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withleeknow · 6 months ago

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moonstruck.

pairing: minho x f!reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, angst if you squint; they're in love <3, mentions of menstruation, there's a bit about orpheus and eurydice so you're not familiar you might want to look it up beforehand idk, not as edited as i'd like. not a lot of warnings here tbh it's just pretty mild and mellow saur 🤷‍♀️ (also i don't exactly love this but i hope you'll still tolerate it anyway lol) word count: 4.7k playlist 🎧: moonstruck - enhypen // this is how you fall in love - jeremy zucker ft. chelsea cutler // pansy - taemin // tightrope - zayn

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / masterlist / ko-fi

Minho is the kind of love that you thought only existed in movies and fairytales. Make-belief, too good to be true, out of reach.

When he rests his head on your shoulder, drifting in and out of sleep like he’s been doing for the past hour or so, you give into the urge to stare at him in wonder. An angel on earth, if there ever was one.

His long eyelashes that you could only dream to have, the slope of his nose, his pink pouty lips, his impeccably sharp jawline, and even his fluffy hair that’s ticking your cheek as you look at him as if you don’t get to see him like this every day. But that kind of beauty is something that demands to be showcased in the world’s most exquisite museum and admired by anyone who comes across it.

Minho is beautiful in every sense of the word.

And you adore him. You do. You love him with every single beat of your pathetic little heart and then some.

Surely, you must’ve saved a nation in one of your past lives to deserve someone as ethereal as him.

Turning your face to the side, you press a kiss against his forehead. The touch makes him stir awake, eyelids fluttering open as he groggily looks around and stretches out his limbs, in the limited space that he has anyway. His sleepy voice asks you, “Are we there yet?”

“Not yet. I think they said we still have about forty minutes before we land. Do you want to go back to sleep?”

Minho shakes his head, covering his mouth when a yawn forces its way out. He straightens his back to his full height sitting down, then slumps against the seat a little bit. He rests his cheek against the top of your head while his hands find one of your own to hold in his lap.

He rubs the skin of your fourth finger for a moment before he eventually stills, lightly snoring again while you look out the window, gazing at oddly shaped clouds and blues and the reflection of the sun on the waters below.

–

After you’ve checked into the hotel, freshened up and readied yourselves to explore the scenery, Minho takes you down to the beach. It’s a little chilly, spring hasn’t yet settled into summer. Even with a light jacket on, you still shiver every time the wind rushes by like it’s playing with the waters. But it’s nice – the sea breeze in your hair and the sunlight on your face, your lover by your side, his fingers intertwined with yours as you walk along the shore together. The blue of the sea almost blending in with the sky where they meet somewhere out there on the horizon. Seagulls flying overhead, families enjoying their relaxing vacation, children playing in the sand way down the shoreline where all you can make out are blurry silhouettes dancing about.

It’s paradise on earth. It’s an escape that you desperately needed. Exhilarated doesn’t even begin to describe how you felt when he told you that he’d booked a Jeju trip for your anniversary.

He’s always been the perfect partner. Always knows just the right thing to do for you whenever you need a pick-me-up. He may not seem like it, but Minho is beyond caring and considerate. He’s a man of few words but he certainly makes up for it with his actions.

“Hey,” he says, pointing somewhere ahead of you. “Remember what happened there?”

“Hmm?” Your eyes try to follow the direction of his finger, until they find a spot where two people are sitting, watching the water in front of them, content smiles passed between lips as they talk animatedly. “Didn’t you confess to me there?”

He smiles as the memory resurfaces in his mind. “Did you know I almost chickened out?”

You two started out as friends way before you got together.

Three years ago, just a few months after you’d both graduated from college, Minho asked you to go to Jeju island with him. You thought it was a little strange – though not that strange since you had been on trips with him before, but it was always in a group setting with all of your other friends. Never just the two of you.

Nonetheless, you agreed. You wanted to get out of the city anyway. You needed a change of scenery to clear your head and to recharge. Everything was starting to become too much for you - being 22 and in limbo. You felt like you kept falling behind no matter what you did. Everyone was moving forward and you were running in place no matter how hard you tried to get out of that slump.

Everyone around you was outgrowing you and your little life, and all you could do was pretend you were fine.

It was one of the lowest you’d ever felt, and you suppose that was why you said yes to Minho’s invitation. A vacation didn’t seem like it would help much, but it certainly couldn’t hurt.

A few days away, with nothing but the sun and the sea to help you get out of your own head.

A tropical paradise and Minho. It wasn’t the end of the world. There were worse things you could think of.

That, and the fact that there had always been something between you and him. Not crazy sexual tension or anything, but just enough of a noticeable spark. An inkling of something that neither of you ever acted upon.

“Did you?” you ask. “Didn’t you plan the whole trip back then to confess?”

“What? No. Why would I willingly do that when you could’ve rejected me? Then I would’ve been stuck in a hotel with you and on the plane ride back.”

You squint at him. “Then why did you take me on that trip?”

Minho shrugs. “Friendship trip to cheer you up.”

Years with him and he still makes you feel as warm as he did the first time you kissed. You gaze at him with what must be the world’s most lovestruck look plastered on your face. You reach up to press your lips to the corner of his mouth, then watch as a blush spreads across his cheeks.

“You did confess though,” you argue.

“Well, yeah, but that wasn’t planned,” he tells you. “You just... We were sitting right there,” he tips his chin toward the same spot again, “and you had my jacket on because you were cold. You were watching the sunset and you looked so pretty. I couldn’t help it. Almost chickened out though.”

You stop walking, and this makes him stop too. Minho glances at you with his head slightly tilted, wearing a puzzled expression.

“You never told me that,” you say.

“You never asked.”

Pouting, you tug him toward you until he’s close enough for you to wrap your arms around his neck. Minho is good, so incredibly good for you that sometimes you can’t possibly fathom how you even deserve him. He never meant to get anything out of it; he just saw that you were struggling and wanted to make it better for you.

Maybe you didn’t do a very good job at pretending, not if Minho could see right through you.

Before him, you had a fear of heights. Not the literal kind, but rather the kind of heights that often accompanies big leaps, big changes. A fear of falling, maybe that would be more accurate. Falling and failing and hitting rock bottom with no way to climb back up. A fear that you would always be stuck with this life forever, trapped in an existence you never asked for. A fear that no effort to escape your reality would be enough, and you’ll always be trailing ten steps behind even if you try twenty times as hard.

You pull him down so you could properly kiss him, your lips slotting together perfectly like he was made for you, like he’s the only person you’re ever meant to kiss in this lifetime. You can taste his smile, minty and happy as he moves against your mouth, his arms sliding around your waist to hold you to his body by the small of your back.

“If I had known,” Minho pulls away slightly, mumbling against your lips, “telling you that would get me brownie points, I would’ve told you ages ago.”

You roll your eyes with affection.

“So all this time,“ he says, “you thought I asked you on that trip just to get into your pants?”

“You did get into my pants on that trip!”

“Let me remind you that I only wanted to do something nice for you. You were the one who almost jumped my bones right then and there after I said I liked you.”

You slap his chest as he throws his head back in a hearty laugh. Minho takes your hand in his once more as he drags you along, savoring the cool sea breeze and the golden daylight dancing on glittering waters before the sun bids you goodbye.

Minho is the kind of love that makes you want to curl up into a ball and ugly cry for an hour straight.

In a good way, of course. In the best way possible.

So that’s what you do, on a fine Tuesday afternoon, sitting on a couch surrounded by three cats as you wait for him to come home, perfectly sheltered from the harsh sun outside.

He returns eventually, toward the end of your crying session. When he sees the pile of tissues on the coffee table, soaked with your tears and snot, his heart nearly falls out of his ass.

Minho drops everything, rushing to you like you’re on the verge of spontaneous human combustion because clearly, this is a normal reaction to have when you come home to a girlfriend who’s been sobbing in the dark for god knows how long.

That, and the fact that said girlfriend doesn’t cry very often. Not by herself and certainly not in front of others.

Doesn’t mean that you’re immune to the occasional bouts of tears whenever shark week closes in, though.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”

Another rush of tears breaks as you look at him. You wipe your eyes and your nose with the tissue you’re currently holding, before throwing it on the table to join the pile you’ve accumulated.

You launch yourself forward, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck. The sudden force takes him aback, makes him gasp a little.

He freezes as you cling to him like a desperate koala, before his hands slowly land on your back, rubbing slowly, hesitantly, as though he’s afraid he’s hurting you.

“What’s wrong, baby? Why are you crying?”

“PMS,“ you hiccup your answer out, to which Minho only responds with a relieved Ah, his hands now moving more assuredly on your body.

“Anything hurt? Sore?”

“No. Just… missed you today. Love you a lot.”

There’s something saccharine in his gaze when he pulls back and regards you with his big doe eyes, softened and endeared, yet there’s still a twinkle of mischief peeking through the sugary glaze.

He moves to make himself comfortable next to you on the couch but still makes sure to keep a hand on you so you don’t grow impatient.

Once he’s effectively squished between you and the armrest of the sofa, he says, “You missed me so much that you started crying? You could’ve texted me, or called. I would’ve come home sooner, crybaby.”

“I didn’t cry because I missed you. I cried because I love you.”

He pretends to think for a moment. “I honestly can’t tell if I should be offended or not.”

You jab a finger at his ribs.

Sure, the mere thought of Minho brings tears to your eyes sometimes. It’s not really a secret anymore.

There’s something about him, just him, how wonderful he is and how all of the stars in the sky must have aligned themselves to make you and him happen. He’s the love of your entire life, there’s never been any doubt about it. Your other half, perfect for you.

You’ve never felt this way about anyone before, and you’re positive that you will never feel this way about anyone ever again. Your love for him runs so deep, so powerful that it overwhelms you at times, drowns you in nothing but affection for him and only him. A love that spreads like wildfire through your calm and sacred forest.

It’s cliché beyond words, that one day you would be having these thoughts about someone. You used to watch this kind of sentiment romanticized in movies, used to cringe and laugh at sappy lines in books and TV shows though there was always a part of you that longed for that kind of love.

You didn’t talk about it often, not even with the people closest to you. You always found it a little embarrassing to admit that you wanted love. To love and to be loved. There was something so utterly vulnerable in the act of yearning and isn’t it such a scary thing? To be vulnerable? You never saw the appeal in showing someone the deepest, darkest parts of you.

What if they leave? What if you bare yourself to someone and they deem you not worth staying for? How would you come back from that kind of rejection?

You suppose it always held you back - the fear of being open that goes hand in hand with the fear of being left behind. Maybe you have more fears than you’d like to admit.

Then came Minho.

No, that doesn’t sound right.

He didn’t come crashing into your life like a tidal wave and unraveled your every belief.

He was always there by your side, a calming presence that you could lean on when things got tough. A friend, a solid foundation. He’s the relief after every monsoon, the first day of sun after a long and harsh winter.

He saw you for who you were, all the messiest parts of you, and loved you anyway. In spite of your mess? Because of your mess.

He taught you that love isn’t always extravagant gestures and grand declarations that Shakespeare would applaud.

Love is acceptance. Love is staying with you on your gloomiest days and holding your hand through your dreariest moments. Love is lingering glances by the doorway before he goes to work because you’re half asleep but you’re still trying to reach for him even in your dreams.

It’s sharing joys and burdens alike. Reminders to eat and gentle wake-up calls. A photo of you in his wallet, a silly picture of him as your phone’s wallpaper. Giggling with him after he tells a joke not because of the punchline itself, but because his manic chortle is even funnier.

Love is Minho cradling your face in one hand and holding onto your shaking fingers with the other, his steady gaze holding yours, and his voice whispering gently in the darkest of nights, “Your storm is my storm.”

At the end of the day, love is pretty simple. Love is him.

“Do you ever think about Orpheus and Eurydice?”

Minho laughs, the sound vibrating where you lay your head, his hand still absentmindedly rubbing the skin of your waist over your shirt. “No, I don’t think about Orpheus and Eurydice.”

You figured as much.

Your fingers trace invisible patterns on his chest as you hum your acknowledgment. Then you ask, “If it was me, if you were Orpheus, would you look back?”

His hands pause their ministrations, a little taken aback by the question you suppose. Your brain tends to pingpong between the most random things sometimes.

“You know,“ he says with an even voice, though the corner of his mouth still curls upward in amusement. “Other people just ask the worm thing.”

“The worm thing is boring. And we both know you wouldn’t love me if I was a worm.”

“You wouldn’t love me if I was a worm either.”

“That’s true. I don’t like worms,” you agree, chuckling while your boyfriend scoffs. “Answer the question, would you look back?”

There’s no right answer because you’re not expecting a correct response. It’s a hypothesis that can never be tested because you aren’t a nymph and Minho isn’t a bard with the ability to sway all life with his music. It’s a silly thought but it’s one that you’re curious about nonetheless, just to hear what he would say. Why not?

You’ve read many interpretations of the tragedy. In some, Orpheus hears Eurydice stumble and turns to catch her fall. In others, he can’t hear her at all. The story will forever be among your favorites, one of the things that never fails to turn you inside out no matter how many times you mull over it.

Minho is quiet for a moment. You think he’s about to shoot back with a witty retort that he always has up his sleeves, probably something about how he would find a loophole and trick his way out of the deal, or that he would personally fistfight Hades to get you out of the underworld. This wouldn’t surprise you at all.

Instead, he says, “Yes, I would look back.”

But regardless of how you choose to view the myth, the ending does not change. Orpheus always turns around.

He turns around because he loves her.

Minho’s fingers slip under your shirt to brush your bare skin, angling his head sideways so he could kiss your forehead.

Maybe he’s just saying it for the sake of being romantic, for the sake of saying what seems to be the right thing. It’s an answer that you can never give substance to, but you believe him with all your heart.

You believe him. You do.

“If it’s you, I would look back.”

Minho is the kind of love that eclipses the sun and dims the light of the moon. The kind of love that drowns out all the noise and makes everything a little more bearable. Not just the most horrible things – your fears and struggles alike – but even the smallest, most mundane things.

If there’s one thing that you absolutely hate, it’s the smell of nail polish. You hate the way it lingers in the air even after the bottle has been capped, hate how the smell of toluene stains your fingertips even after washing your hands several times with scented soap.

Though, the only time you try to tolerate it is when Minho convinces you to stay in and pamper each other. Pizzas that he picks up for dinner and tiramisu ice cream for dessert. Face masks and fancy candles that you save for special occasions. SoonDoongDori napping on various surfaces in your living room, an old vinyl playing from the record player he got you for your first birthday you shared together after you started dating.

You each take turns doing the other’s nails on the carpeted floor. It’s become somewhat of a tradition that you indulge in every month, where you would spend cozy Friday evenings indoors just because neither of you can be assed to indulge in a “proper“ date night. Being hermits together sounds infinitely more appealing to you than any other alternative.

“I’m not done,” you say, snatching Minho’s hand back after he pulls it away to admire your work. You blow on his fingers to make sure that the layer of black polish you applied earlier is dry, then you’re reaching for a bottle of beige polish sitting amongst the ones scattered on the floor. You take a tiny brush from the nail kit - one that’s rarely ever touched because neither of you knows how to do nail art - and dip it into the sand-colored polish.

“What are you doing?“ he asks, watching as you trace some squiggly lines on his middle finger, the lighter color settling nicely on top of the black even if he has no idea what you’re trying to draw. “What is that?”

“Soonie,” you say simply. “When you flip people off, you can show them Soonie.”

You don’t need to look at him to know that his attention is fixed on you even though he doesn’t give you a response. You feel his gaze on the side of your face, soft and warm and never leaving for even a second. He doesn’t say anything while you work though, maybe he doesn’t want to mess up your concentration while you’re so engrossed in what you’re doing. He only chuckles at your answer, then nothing afterward.

You don’t mind the lack of conversation. It helps you focus better on what you’re doing because you’re no artist by any means. You can’t draw to save your life, let alone master something as intricate as nail art, but this is therapeutic. It’s perfect to help you unwind after a long week - doodling your beloved cat on your boyfriend’s nails while Iris by the Goo Goo Dolls sets the ambience. You’ll get the ice cream when you’re done with your impromptu project, along with a little headache from inhaling too much of the polish scent perhaps, but isn’t that a small price to pay?

You take your sweet time with the teeny tiny details, like Soonie’s delicate whiskers and the darker strips of fur on his face. He still turns out a little wonky, a little lopsided here and there but it’s not like you expected it to turn out like a Picasso.

The real Soonie seems to sense a disturbance in the force when he wakes up from his nap and saunters toward you curiously. You pick him up and sit him in your lap so he doesn’t come too close to the fresh polish on Minho’s nails. “Look,” you say with a proud smile, pointing toward the small cat doodle. “That’s you.”

He studies it for a moment, focused on your portrayal of him but then he’s quick to decide that he’s not interested anymore before wiggling away from your lap to go join Doongie on the couch. You chuckle lightly, watching him as he walks off, wondering if this is what it will feel like when your future children enter their teenage years.

When you turn back to Minho, he’s still staring at you, a dazed look in his eyes as he blinks slowly, his hand resting limply on his thigh.

“What?” you ask. “Do you not like–”

“Marry me.”

The rest of your question dies in your throat, wilting away like cherry blossoms when summer nears. He doesn’t break eye contact, still that dreamy gaze when he peers at you. Nothing has ever changed in the way that he looks at you.

For a moment, you’re too stunned to speak. You think anyone would be when their boyfriend drops a proposal out of nowhere while you’re doing each other’s nails in your comfiest sweatpants.

Everything that you’ve been afraid of comes bubbling to the surface, every doubt, every fear, even every fleeting insecurity. They manifest as a ringing in your ears, a buzzing in your head that makes it hard to think about anything at all.

But then he shuffles closer, closer and closer until his warm breath fans your cheek, his nose nudging your cheekbone gently. It’s similar to what Doongie does sometimes when you’re lounging in bed and he just wants some love.

When Minho takes your hand and laces your fingers together in his lap, everything stills. The rumbling comes to a halt, the distant thunder fading slowly into the background of your mind palace until it’s reduced to mere white noise. “Marry me,“ he says again, and his voice is so tender that you ache. Tender and sweet and so full of wonderful adoration. If you ever have to describe what love sounds like, you would say it’s him and his voice, right here and right in this exact moment.

“A little dramatic to propose just because I drew your cat.”

He chuckles, presses a kiss to your cheek before he ducks down to deliver another kiss on the side of your neck. Then he pulls back, just enough to get a clear view of you and your now glassy eyes.

“Bottom drawer in our bedroom,” he tells you. You can’t lie; you have half a mind to leave him here and go check. “I bought the ring two months ago, but I knew I wanted to marry you two years before that. I’ve been waiting for the perfect moment to do it but I realized the perfect moment doesn’t exist, because every minute I spend with you is perfect. I love you so much. It’s not because you drew me my cat, by the way. I think I’ve loved you since the first time I saw you.

“I love your weird brain and your blanket-hogging ass. I love that you’re crazy enough to listen to a song literally over a thousand times without getting bored. I even love you when you set ten alarms in the morning and still manage to sleep through all of them. I know you hate your smile but it’s my favorite smile in the world. Did you know my favorite color is the color of your eyes? The best part of my day is when I get to come home to you and the kids waiting for me. I want all of you forever. I promise I’ll love you twice as much on days that you don’t love yourself. When we’re old and gray and we look like raisins, I’ll let you go first so you won’t have to spend a single day alone. I’ll–” He stops when you let out a teary giggle, no bite in his voice at all when he says, “Please don’t laugh at me during my big romantic speech.”

It only makes you laugh harder, though it’s just as emotional. If you focus on the other part of his sentence, you’ll only crumble into a million pieces right here. “How very romantic of you to include the visual of us as raisins in your speech.”

Minho rolls his eyes – fondly, of course. When he pretends to squirm away from you, you tug him back by the collar of his shirt to plant an apologetic kiss on his lips which he eagerly accepts.

“Please continue,” you say, smiling against his mouth. “Tell me all the ways that you’ll love me.”

“You ruined it. I retract my proposal,” he grumbles, but his arms betray his words when they tighten around your frame, holding you close to him to steal another kiss. Then another, and another, until your faces are wet with tears and you realize that you’re both crying.

“I’m sorry,” you say through sniffles and tears. “Please keep going.”

“Make it up to me first.”

“How?”

“Marry me,” he repeats a final time. “I’ll give you a better speech on our wedding day.”

Years and years from now, when you’re old and gray and look like raisins – as he so poetically put it – you’ll remember this moment down to every miniscule detail. How the cats’ peace is disturbed by your tearful giggles and the strange look they give you before wandering out of the room, in favor of somewhere without two crying idiots. How the record starts skipping but neither of you can be bothered to do anything about the obnoxious sound. How the material of his shirt feels when you bunch the fabric in your hands because you need to kiss him, need him to be as close as humanly possible.

You’ll remember the sob that he hiccups when you tell him through choked up whispers, “Yes, I’ll marry you,” and how his lips feel when they tremble against your skin. You’ll remember the way he holds onto you like a lifeline, because he’s always been your salvation for as long as you’ve known him. You’ll remember what happens after, later that night when he finally slips the ring onto your finger. The words he whispers into the crook of your neck, “You mean the world to me,” and the emotions in his voice when you both realize this is the start of the rest of forever.

You’ll remember everything, all of it, every clumsy touch and every graceless kiss. Ugly crying on the floor and yet, it’s more perfect than anything you can ever dream of.

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ladyddanger · 1 year ago

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thinking about the events of the dsmp hundreds of years later being just a bunch of stories.

In a village nestled between tall pines children play Manberg Vs Pogtopia, the names of nations and reasons for war long forgotten as they hit each other with sticks and tackle their friends to warm summer grass.

When their mothers tuck them in that night they tell them stories of a snowy wasteland, so ancient it still holds the scars of long wars forgotten. They tell them of the wasteland’s inhabitant, the greatest warrior this world has ever seen. His name is lost to history but warriors still pray to him on the eve of battle and tie ravens feathers in their hair in his honor.

If the children misbehaved that day their mothers tell them a different story, one of a masked man who steals bad children and drowns them in the sea.

There’s a crater a few miles east of the village in the middle of the marshlands up by a glittering ocean. The crater is so deep that you can throw rocks off the edge and never hear them hit the bottom. Legend says that once upon a time the goddess of death had a son who walked this earth and when he died in her rage and grief she tore into the city that once stood there with her bare hands and ripped it from the earth leaving nothing but a crater behind.

On long sunny evenings in the inns that dot the coastline bards tell stories of a cursed city of gold and glass buried in the heart of a desert where it snows. They whisper the city is full of riches but nobody who looks for it ever comes back.

On stormy nights the Bards tell a different story, a story of a town that sits over a slumbering god. Strange things happen there. Red vines sport up over night. If you listen closely, the people say you can hear them talk. Everyone there has red eyes and cold cold hands.

If you start at dawn and ride in the opposite direction of the carter you can reach the vault before nightfall. The locals claim it used to hold a faceless god guarded by a king but time has weathered the vault’s defenses and the towns children dare each other inside its walls, running though the tight passages.

An old fairytale says if you follow a small barely visible path from the doors of a vault beyond you’ll reach a forest full of trees so overgrown they block the sun. The fairytale says if you walk to the heart of the forrest there’s a prince sleeping there, nestled in the flowers and weeds. The fairytale says his true love and his knights are long dead. The fairytale says he dreams the whole world in existence. The fairytale says a lot of things but nobody really believes it.

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amjustagirl · 9 months ago

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title: to rebuild a home pairing: kuroo x f! reader genre: angst / fluff, post timeskip! wc: 6.8k m.list

a/n: companion piece to the original love knows not its depth, from kuroo's perspective.

Kuroo Tetsuro is doing alright.

He’s deftly juggling the roles life has handed him. His tenth wedding anniversary is coming up. He’s gotten a nice pair of earrings and a reservation at Tokyo’s hottest omakase for you to celebrate. The girls are doing nicely at school - Aiko’s grades are excellent, and Fumiko’s not gotten into any schoolyard fights unlike Bokuto’s trio of sons. His bosses seem happy with him too, paving the way for him to climb the corporate ladder rung by rung. He’s earned each promotion by burning days in the office, nights in the izakayas schmoozing with his bosses, but it’s worth it, even if it admittedly comes at the expense of being with you and the girls.

It’s a sacrifice he has to make so he can provide you with the fairytale life he’s always promised you. Not that you’ve ever complained about the trade-off.

“She’s the best wife and mom I could’ve asked for”, he tells Kenma, when the former setter asks about you. “I don’t know how she does it.”

Kenma frowns. “You make her sound like a video game character.”

“That’s cos she’s amazing -”

“Kinda sucks that she pretty much has to juggle a full time job and the kids on her own most of the time.”

“She manages perfectly well”, Kuroo enthuses, oblivious to the barb in his friend’s words. “By the time I get home, the girls are in bed, the house is clean, and there’s even a lunch box packed for me each day. She’s a rockstar at work too - should be up for a promotion next financial year.”

“Huh”, Kenma sniffs. “I wonder when she gets a break.”

Kuroo’s too distracted by the round of beers that’s delivered to his table to think deeply about his best friend’s apprehension. When he stumbles through the front door that night, he finds you crouched over the coffee table, frantically typing at your laptop. As expected, the girls are in bed, there’s nothing out of place.

“All good?” he asks you in passing, his mind already filing the tasks on his plate for tomorrow - organising a publicity event jointly held by the JVA and Bouncing Ball Corporation to introduce new national team members, reviewing the proposed budget for this year’s international competitions, popping by the under-19 team to see if there are indeed any promising candidates - he’s already one foot in the bedroom, ready to call it a night.

He doesn’t notice the violets blooming under your eyes.

“Mm.” You don’t look up. “Have a good night.”

Kruoo Tetsuro thinks he’s doing alright.

Bokuto Kotaro, for some reason, doesn’t think so. “Mitsuki said you’re lucky you’re not married to her cos she’ll skin you alive”, he informs him, as if Kuroo shares his love for women capable of chomping his head off in one bite.

Maybe the Bokutos operate on a different metric - because yes, they’re the model of egalitarianism with Mitsuki the high powered general counsel for Kenma’s Bouncing Ball Corporation (based on his referral, he likes to add, cos’ it’s funny to watch Mitsuki growl) and Kotaro the part time coach, full time stay at home dad to his wolfpack of sons, but that doesn’t mean his marriage is on the rocks.

As a child, he was the unwitting witness to his parents’ fights, which culminated in his mother walking out of the door, his father crying over a thick stack of divorce papers. His grandparents took him in, gave him stability and love and comfort but he swore to himself he’s never going to put his daughters through that.

Sure, it’s been a while since you’ve had a night to yourself. The last time he remembers you taking time away from the girls was to go out for dinner with him to celebrate his latest promotion - his conscience stings a little that he can’t remember the last time you’ve taken a break from everything you’ve been doing for him and the girls, but he’ll make it up to you once he has time. You always understand.

Still, just to be sure, he checks in on you again.

“You alright?”, he reaches for your hand, when he climbs into bed that night.

You’re lying in bed. He should find it odd that you’re still awake at this time of the night, staring up at the ceiling as if there’s something to be found there, but he falls asleep in the slow seconds, doesn't hear your response. When he wakes, you’ve already taken the girls to school. He gets himself ready for work, loops his tie around his neck, grabs his briefcase and the bento you’ve so lovingly packed for him, and hops on the train. He runs through his routine like clockwork, but there’s a niggling feeling that he’s missed something important, possibly something to do with you.

Did you say something to him last night?

It doesn’t matter. He makes a mental note to purchase a spa day for you - but that’s promptly forgotten when he’s greeted by a flood of emails and an invitation from his boss to go out for drinks that night.

Kuroo still thinks he’s doing alright.

“You’re lucky”, his boss toasts him. “Your wife doesn’t complain like mine when I go out drinking, even though I tell her I need to do it for work.”

“She’s an angel”, Kuroo replies, quietly bursting with pride. “Never complains.”

“Lucky man”, his boss says. “My wife is such a nag.”

He misses the last train home that night, drops you a text not to wait up and stumbles around Shibuya trying to find a cab. It must be a busy night because by the time he manages to flag down one, it’s three a.m. and his head is pounding from the excess of alcohol and lack of solid food and water. He fumbles with his keys, almost falls through his front door when the lock gives way. “Tadaima”, he says out of habit, too-loudly, before his stomach lurches and he has to make a mad dash for the kitchen sink.

“Tetsuro?”

He wants to respond, but he’s too busy emptying out the contents of his stomach. He shouldn’t have woken you up. He shouldn’t greet you with a mess for you to clean up. He shouldn’t lean so heavily on you that you stagger beneath his weight.

He shouldn’t do all of that yet he does so anyway. You tuck him, a grown man, into bed.

Tomorrow, he’ll apologise. Tomorrow, he’ll make it up to you.

Tomorrow comes. He wakes up.

You’re gone.

Kuroo Tetsuro is not alright.

He’s ashamed to admit that he doesn’t even notice you’ve taken off until it’s way past lunch when your mother drops him a text to ask if he’s picking up the girls or if he intends to leave them with her overnight.

“What d’you mean?” he texts her, confused.

His heart stops when your mother responds to say you dropped off the girls at her place without much of an explanation, an overnight bag slung over your shoulder. You don’t pick up your phones, his calls going straight to voicemail. For the first time in forever, he sheepishly asks his boss for urgent leave from work so he can rush home to figure out what’s going on.

You always take your laptop with you, but it’s sitting at home. He knows it’s an invasion of privacy, but he types in your password (his birthday), and your web browser reveals a booking for a ryokan in Hakone, where the both of you honeymooned almost a decade ago. It’s an hour away by train, far too much time for him to sit and stew in his thoughts. He wonders if you’ve become sick of your life with him, whether you’ve found someone new, and by the time he’s reached the ryokan and charmed the receptionist to let him into your room, he’s teetering on the edge of giving into his frustration, entertaining thoughts about yelling at you for being so goddamned irresponsible, cos how could you just walk out on him and the girls -

Until you walk in, thankfully alone.

It strikes him that it’s the most refreshed he’s seen you look in a very, very long time. Your cheeks are glowing, your eyes sparkle, and there’s a spring in your step that he hasn’t seen since you’ve had the girls.

Still, he can’t help but remain a little peeved. “I’ve been calling you all afternoon”, he informs you. “I was worried.”

He immediately regrets his words as he watches the light die in your eyes.

“Were you?”, you ask, as if you were addressing a stranger. “Really?”

“Of course”, he frowns, slowly getting up to approach you, concerned when you start to sway. “You’re my wife and the mother of our girls, of course I care.”

Laughter spills from your lips, an undercurrent of bitterness and contempt that’s threatening to drag you under before his very eyes. “If you really cared, you’d have noticed that your wife is broken”, you tell him between gasps, your shoulders caving in. “I tried fixing myself with a break, but you can’t even give me that.”

He’s starting to realise that things aren’t alright at all. You flinch when he takes a step towards you, an action which stabs him clean through his heart because he’s your husband, your Tetsuro, your person. Tea, then, a neutral offering that manages to calm you down enough to take a seat, even if you’re still shaking, falling to pieces while laughing, laughing -

“Tell me what’s wrong”, he begs. “Tell me what I can do to fix you.”

You take a sip of tea. It’s hot enough to burn you, but you don’t seem to notice.

“I can’t do this anymore, Tetsuro.”

“Don’t say that”, he snaps, his inner child recoiling because he can’t bear to have his girls go through what he went through, wondering if it was his fault, his very existence that caused his parents to split up. “The girls and I need you -”

You don’t seem to hear him.

“Princess”, he falls back on his pet name for you, rusty from lack of use. “Come back to me.”

You’re unmoved, your eyes unseeing, deaf to his pleas. Sip after sip, you gulp down scalding tea, each action jerky, mechanical. Frozen, in an impenetrable placidness that he can’t read. You’re sitting right in front of him but you’re not really there at all.

“Let’s talk when you’re back home”, he finally says. “Have a good break.”

The immature little boy that still lives in his psyche is still unconvinced that it’s a bad idea to drag you back home with him posthaste, but you asked for a break, and it’s the least he can give to you.

You allow him to roll out your futon for you, to swaddle you in layers of blankets as if that would keep you from falling apart any further. As he kisses your forehead to bid you goodnight and goodbye, he feels the brittleness of your bones, the thinness of your skin beneath his palms and he spends the hour-long train ride home wondering how he managed to look away long enough for you to turn into a shadow of your past self.

He goes straight to your mother’s house to retrieve the girls. As penance, he stands at the front door, head bowed, letting your mother yell at him in front of the neighbours for being a useless husband and an irresponsible father. After all, he deserves every word she flings in his face. He’s just thankful that she doesn’t ream him out in front of the girls.

“Where’s mama?” Fumiko mumbles half asleep into his neck. “Want mama.”

He cradles her closer. “She’ll be home tomorrow”, he tells her, hoping with every fibre of his being that that does not turn out to be a lie. Aiko, older and wiser, just stays quiet, so he forces a smile on his face for her sake.

Kuroo Tetsuro is far from okay.

The strain of the day wears on him and he’s sure there are burning emails in his inbox for him to firefight, but there’s a long list of chores to be done in your absence. The girls’ school bags need to be packed (in the case of five year old Fumiko) or checked (for ten year old Aiko), their uniforms to be laid out, the laundry sorted and folded. He barely gets any sleep before he has to hop out of bed to throw together a cold breakfast of milk and cereal that makes Fumiko burst into tears and Aiko’s face droops. By the time he shuffles his two cranky children out of the house and into their respective schools, he’s late for work.

He meets Bokuto and Kenma for lunch since there’s no lunch bento waiting for him in the fridge, though he regrets the decision to leave the refuge of his work desk for the boardroom of Bouncing Ball Corporation when Mitsuki joins them and, sharp-eyed as ever, sinks her talons into him.

“You look like shit”, she says to him as a greeting.

“Thanks”, he grounds out. The girls demanded he work their hair into the neat braids they insisted you always do, so bedhead would have to do for him today.

“I’ve never seen you without hair gel before”, Bokuto marvels. “You look weird.”

“I had a crap morning, okay”, he snaps, biting the head off the karaage fish in his store bought bento, which he resents for tasting worse than those you usually make for him. “So I’m sorry if I look slightly less than presentable -”

“You look like a man whose wife just left him - “

Mitsuki’s just stepped right on the wound he’s tried to keep hidden, festering and bleeding beneath his skin, so like an animal lashing out when it’s hurt, Kuroo slaps the table with both palms and snarls.

“Don’t - don’t fucking say that, okay? She’s just taking a break. She’ll come home.”

He can’t stand to see the shock and pity on his closest friends’ faces. “She’s coming home today”, he repeats softly, almost to himself, as if he’s little Fumiko in need of reassurance that the person she needs most in the world hasn’t just abandoned her. “It’s gonna be okay.”

Perhaps it’s the maturity that comes with fatherhood, because Bokuto is the first to react. “That’s right, you’re gonna be okay”, he soothes, pulling Kuroo into his seat. “Kenma’s gonna call your boss and tell him that you’re gonna spend the rest of the afternoon here to plan some event - “

“Sponsorship for the Under-19 team, done”, Kenma snaps his phone shut.

“Guys, I’m fine - ”

“Pretending everything’s okay isn’t going to help.”

Kuroo deflates. “Thanks, Kenma.”

Shelving his worthless pride to lay bare the situation he’s found himself in, that by neglecting his duties as a husband and father, he’s forced you to the brink of a mental breakdown, bad enough that you’ve left him - temporarily, he hopes. In the span of a few hours, he’s already found himself at his wit’s end, struggling to handle both the demands of the kids and his job, something that he realises he’s left you to bear, alone.

“But I can’t figure out why she didn’t just tell me she was feeling overwhelmed”, he says, pulling at a fraying thread in his shirt. “I would’ve listened. I would’ve done better.”

“She shouldn’t have to tell you to do your part”, Mitsuki waves away Bokuto’s desperate gesture for her not to kick a man when he’s already down.

“But I didn’t know -”

“Y’know, I really can’t stand men like you. You guys are amazing at work, able to anticipate your bosses’ and clients’ needs. At this point, you don’t even need to be told by your bosses to jump, you don’t even ask your clients ‘how high’ - yet, for some reason, you manage to turn off your brain the minute you walk in through the front door at home.”

“Maybe I should ask her for a list of things I can help her with -”

Bokuto claps his hand over Mitsuki’s mouth. “Ehhh..you might not wanna finish your sentence or Mitsuki might really bite your head off.”

Kuroo winces, snapping his mouth shut.

“Maybe you can think of it in a different way”, Bokuto says. “Instead of ‘helping’ her - cos that’s just placing the mental burden on her - at least, I think that’s the term Mitsuki-chan used when she explained it to me -” the affronted lawyer nods begrudgingly, and beaming, he continues - “you gotta do your half of the work!”

“Level up”, Kenma provides, rather unhelpfully.

“Open your eyes and use your brain”, Mitsuki says bluntly, rolling her eyes, though her tone is less sharp.

“Where do I start?” Kuroo asks.

Step one.

He picks the girls up from his mother in law’s place, bears with the lecture that’s awaiting him, and sheepishly asks them what their mama usually feeds them for dinner and breakfast, making a mental note of it. Tonight, he’ll cheat by feeding them gyudon at Sukiya, but he drops by the supermarket to procure the ingredients he needs for tomorrow’s breakfast and a bouquet of pink roses, even though he knows it’s probably too little, too late. He counts himself lucky that Fumiko loves bathtime, only needing supervision to wash and dry her hair, and Aiko’s responsible enough to work through her homework without prompting, but he’s still exhausted by the time they both head to bed.

His job doesn’t end there. Running through the checklist Mitsuki begrudgingly allowed Bokuto to give him, he surveys the apartment, comparing it against the mental image of how everything was before you left it. Toys scattered, to be put back in place. Dust on floor, to be vacuumed up. A heap of laundry in the basket, to be hung, dried, ironed.

Just as he finishes all these tasks, the front door swing opens.

“Tadaima”, you call out, voice hushed.

He nearly trips over his feet in his haste to relieve you of your luggage, usher you into a seat by the kitchen counter. “Okaerie”, he breathes,

“The girls?” you ask.

He’ll buy Bokuto lunch next time. “I picked them up from your mom”, he responds. “Don’t wake them up, I just put them to bed.”

You peek into their rooms nonetheless. “Thanks”, you say, heading next to the fridge. “By the way, I’ll pay you back for the hotel room from my own money, don’t worry.”

That’s the last thing on his mind. Besides, his sin is being a neglectful husband, not a miser. “It’s fine, I’ll cover it”, he scratches his head, embarrassed that you’re even bringing it up. “I should’ve realised you needed a break.”

That makes you frown, but you accept anyway. He watches you stack bread, eggs, ham, cheese, and it strikes him that you’re already worrying about the girls’ breakfast when you look as if you haven’t even had your own dinner.

“You haven’t had dinner?” he asks.

You reply carelessly that you’ve had a bento on the train back. You don’t even bother to look at him.

“I’ll take the girls in the mornings from now”, he tells you. “Sleep in and take a break.”

That gets your attention.

“Really?”

He plasters a confident smirk on his face to reassure you that he’s got it all in hand.

“Oh”, you’re adorable when you’re confused, but he hates that he’s given you reason to doubt him. “Wake me up if you need my help?”

“I won’t”, he promises.

It’s time for him to level up.

Step two.

He’s not going to lie to himself that he finds it difficult to do even half of what you used to do. Taking over the responsibility of wrangling the girls out of bed and into school, coming home early enough for dinner with you, that requires him to have hard conversations with his boss about not being able to go out for drinks or come in early anymore which probably hurts his chances for his next promotion, forces him to give up an hour or two of sleep, but it’s worth it if it allows you to heal.

“Don’t expect a gold star for your efforts”, Mitsuki warned him. “It’s just what you should’ve been doing before, so it’s time for you to go above and beyond.”

He takes her words to heart. You deserve to go to work well-rested, to wind down at night with a hot bath. He’ll buy a robot vacuum and pour over its manual that’s thicker than a textbook, do laundry loads while hopping on and off conference calls, wrestle the iron to press down his own shirts.

You seem baffled by the sudden shift in the winds, but he just pretends everything is normal. Business as usual. Things are just as they should’ve been.

In his next push to right his wrongs, he organises a Saturday dinner date with you. The girls are packed off with your mother, he makes the reservation, books the cab, compliments your dress. He asks you about your work (tiring), your boss (a micro-manager), the books you’ve read recently (nada, zilch). In the uphill battle to keep the conversation from being stilted, he makes a fatal mistake.

“We can make it work if you want to quit your job and stay home full time with the children.”

In his mind, that was a reasonable suggestion to make since you seem to hate your job and boss with a fiery passion. But you stare at him wide-eyed, your initial confusion hardening into anger.

“Did the guys at work tell you it’s easier to have a housewife instead of a working wife? Are you saying this because you don’t think I’m a good enough mother to our girls?”

You don’t give him a chance to backpedal, shooting a sarcastic apology for being selfish enough to refuse to be reliant on him, so he just slumps back in his chair in defeat.

“I just want you to be happy”, he murmurs. “Forget I ever said that.”

Step three.

To figure out step three, he schedules an emergency lunch meeting on Monday. The troops convene in Kenma’s boardroom to listen to his sorry tale with Mitsuki in charge of the post–battle analysis.

“And remind me again, where did you two meet?”

His face lights up at the memory of his first meeting with you. “Finance 102”, he replies. “We used to be academic rivals turned teammates after I convinced her I was smart enough for her to work with on projects.”

“What made you fall in love with her?”

“As much as I hate it, I have to admit she’s probably smarter than me”, he says, though the fond smile that creeps onto his face betrays the fact that he loves that about you. “She’s just - her, she’s headstrong and funny. Did I tell you how she tried to stab me with her fork when I stole food off her plate -”

“Only a million times”, Kenma interjects.

“She’s always been independent and ambitious, with big dreams and an even bigger heart.”

“Well”, Mitsuki says, adopting the mildest tone she’s used on him this month. “Does that sound like a woman who’d choose to stay home and depend on her husband? Not that there’s anything wrong with being a stay-at-home parent - Koutaro makes my career possible, and I’m the luckiest woman in the world to have him as my husband.”

“Babyyyyy.” Bokuto bawls, looking at MItsuki as if she hangs the moon in the sky.

Gross. Kenma seems to agree. “Let’s get back to Kuroo’s failing marriage”,

“So I shouldn’t bring up the suggestion that she quit her job again?”

His three person council shake their heads in unison. “Just keep what you’re doing”, Bokuto pipes up. “Sounds like you’re already doing the right things! Just gotta keep making sure she’s not holding up the sky herself.”

He can do that.

“And maybe talk to her?”, Kenma offers.

That’s the suggestion that he wants to dismiss right off the bat because he’s too much of a coward to even face the possibility that you might leave him. He doesn’t want to become his dad so he resolves to keep his head down and continue pushing ahead with his efforts to prove to you that he can be the husband you deserve, so you won’t wake up one day and decide to walk out on him again.

But his subconscious fears force his nightmares into overdrive. Dreams of packed bags and stacks of divorce papers makes him yelp loud enough for you to roll over and shake him awake. He’s a terrible husband for disturbing your sleep, but in his sleep-dazed state of confusion he just sinks back into the pillow, exhaling a sigh of relief.

“Thank the gods you haven’t left.”

“Why would I leave?”, you mumble, turning away again. “It’s my home, isn’t it.”

He sits up, rubs the nightmares away from his eyes. “I was afraid you left me.”

The silence nearly suffocates him. The sudden need to know exactly where you stand eats away at him and he crawls towards you. “Are you going to leave me”, he asks, praying to all the gods in the universe that you’ll reassure him otherwise.

His heart breaks anew when he hears a small sob, buried in the bedclothes. “I don’t know, Tetsuro”, you finally say. “I’m tired of being alone in a marriage when it’s supposed to be us working together.”

“I’m sorry.” There’s nothing much he can say.

A broken whisper. “I’m tired”, you exhale. “I think I deserve better.”

“I’ll make it better”, he promises.

He will. He will.

Kuroo Tetsuro is trying his best.

He takes a cooking class on the weekends to learn how to prepare bento boxes that are nutritious and easy on the wallet. He takes over the ferrying of Fumiko to her swimming lessons, work on Aiko’s art projects with her. He hires a part time cleaner to pick up the deep cleaning, so you and he have time to take the girls out on weekend outings instead of spending all day on a week’s worth of cumulated chores. A dishwasher appears in the house. He makes it a game for he and the girls to load and unload dishware each night.

“There’s a networking wine night for finance next Wednesday”, he tells you casually. “I’ll make sure to be home so you can go, if you want.”

You goggle at him.

“Go schmooze so the world knows you’re as amazing as I know you are.”

You trust him enough to leave the girls behind in his care and go. He counts that as a win.

Some nights he still can’t get home in time for dinner, but he always makes sure he’s home in time for a bedtime story and a goodnight kiss. Aiko avers that at the grand old age of ten, she doesn’t need her papa to tuck her to bed anymore, but she sidles into Fumiko’s room everynight and sits in the corner of her little sister’s bed as the littler girl listens to his tall tales.

“I met a princess when I was eighteen”, he says with a grin when he notices you listening in. “Instead of a crown, she armed herself with a fork, ready to cut down anyone who’d cross her.”

His heart skips a beat when he hears your voice from the doorway. “Don’t be dramatic”, you interrupt, a small smile growing on your face. “You were trying to steal my food and didn’t stop ‘til I stabbed you.”

Fumiko huffs, unhappy that her story’s being interrupted, but he can’t seem to tear his gaze away from you. “You left it on the table, princess. I consider that fair game.”

“Let ‘to-san tell the story, ka’san.” Aiko grumbles.

He savours your laughter. It tastes better than the finest wine.

“I can’t believe I have to fly all the way to Italy just to meet Kageyama-kun”, he huffs. “At least Hinata is meeting us there, I’ll revolt if I had to go up to Brazil as well.”

“You know it can’t be helped”, you reply. “The promotional activities planned need your presence, and it’s only for a week.”

“Will you be okay when I’m gone?”

His fears melt away when you hand him his suitcase, a flask of his favourite tea. “I’ve always managed fine. Nothing’s changed.”

His little monsters, realising that he’s about to leave, decide to launch a synchronised attack on him. Aiko throws herself at him in a bear hug. Fumiko yanks at his sleeve demanding a thousand kisses.

“Yes, well. I’ll be home soon. Please wait for me” he says to you when the girls finally release him. The expression on your face is unreadable, but you don’t pull away when he takes the liberty of taking your hand in his.

He feels your heartbeat accelerates. You glance up at him, almost shy. “I’ll see you soon.”

He’s so tempted to call his boss and pretend that he’s too ill to get on that damned flight, but he’s pretty sure that would get him fired. Instead, he calls you and the girls every day, and brings home a luggage full of presents for all of you.

When he’s home, he celebrates by putting on the frilliest pink apron he’s ever seen (courtesy of Yaku, who sent it to him all the way from Moscow as a joke) and throwing an elaborate takoyaki party, replete with customised toppings - octopus, cheese and shrimp, which the girls enjoyed even if he burnt the first batch and had to call Fukunaga frantically for tips to rescue the rest. It turns out to be such a success that he makes it a weekly event. Okonomiyaki is next, which he flips with expert confidence on a hot plate to the applause of you and the girls.

“Itadakimasu”, you clap your hands together. “It tastes good.”

He nearly melts into his pan. “Thank you”, he replies. “It means a lot, coming from you.”

His nights are still plagued by nightmares.

Things are better with you, he likes to think. The violets beneath your eyes are replaced by roses in your cheeks. He hears you humming about the house again. You pick up reading again, the shelves in the house start to groan under the weight of books belonging to the girls and you. You’re as eager as the girls to go on the next adventure, whether it be a summer night out in the park with sparklers, or a nerf gun battle at home on rainy days.

Still, he doesn’t know for sure what he’s doing is enough for you and he’s too much of a coward to check. So he’ll wake up almost every night, fumble in the dark just to make sure you’re there.

You’re there, until you aren’t.

It’s three in the morning. The space beside him is cold and empty.

He throws off the blankets, trips on his bed slippers. He crashes through into the living room and oh, there you are - sitting at the dining table, typing furiously at your laptop while mouthing off to yourself about the ridiculous demands your client makes.

“What’s wrong?” you frown.

He walks towards you, trying to discern that you’re real, you’re there, not some trick of the light..

“You’re - you’re still here.”

You nod slowly, eyeing him strangely. “My boss called and asked me to send out an urgent email. I was just about to go back to bed.”

He exhales, tries to force his trembling heart back into his chest. He thinks he’s doing a good job trying to act nonchalant, smoothing back his frazzled mane of hair, but you see right through him as you always do.

“Tetsuro”, you say slowly. “Is everything alright?

The truth tumbles out of his mouth. “I thought you were gone.”

Then he hangs his head, looks at his feet, afraid that he’ll only see rejection in your eyes. He’s a pathetic failure of a husband who has a decade’s worth of sins to make up for, and there’s no justification for him to selfishly to seek your absolution.

It comes anyway, in the form of soft hands pulling him forward.

“I’m here”, you say, pulling him into your embrace, letting him rest his heavy head in your lap.

He doesn’t allow himself to sink into your warmth. “Are you happier now? Are things better for you?”

“Yes”, he hears you say. The tension he’s been carrying around these few months lifts. “Thank you, Tetsuro. I appreciate it. I really do. You don’t have to work yourself to death - that’s never what I was asking for. If you’re tired -”

He shakes his head at your suggestion. He’s got a long way yet before he earns any reprieve.

“Tetsuro -”

He sits up abruptly, takes your hands in his.

“Promise you won’t leave me”, he pleads. “I know you’ve had to carry what must’ve felt like the weight of the entire world on your own, and I don’t have any excuse for that.”

“You don’t”, you agree.

He accepts the blow but he takes comfort that you don’t pull away. “I know that now. I know now how fucking hard it was to do it all alone.”

“It was hard. It was so, so hard, Tetsuro. I became numb to the pain. I don’t think I was functioning, I haven’t been for a while. For a long, long while.”

“I’m sorry”, his voice cracks.

“I know.” You cup his face in your hands, offers him comfort he doesn’t deserve. “That’s a chapter of our marriage that’s past, that can’t be unwritten. But the past few months have been different. You’ve shown me that you’ve changed.”

The first glimmer of sunlight after a long, dark winter. Hope blooms with your smile.

“I think”, you say. “I think we can make this work again.”

He stares at you, dumbstruck. Then the fact that you’re giving him another chance dawns upon him, and he crashes forward to rest his head on your shoulder, unashamed to cry tears of relief.

“Thank you”, he exhales brokenly. “I won’t fuck this up again, I promise.”

You press a kiss to his forehead, curl up trustingly in his arms. “Don’t thank me”, you laugh. “Thank yourself for making me believe in you.”

He drinks up each drop of your affection, falls asleep in the cradle of your arms.

“Is this what flirting is like?”

He wakes up to Aiko’s impertinent question, her hands on hips looking distinctly unimpressed at finding her parents asleep on the sofa, entwined together.

“Who taught you that word?” Kuroo asks, aghast that his ten year old daughter even recognises the existence of the opposite gender.

Aiko sticks her tongue at him, and he’s too distracted by Fumiko taking a flying leap onto the sofa with them, chattering a thousand miles an hour about what’s for breakfast and whether they can go to the zoo this afternoon - though he pins his suspicions on Bokuto’s trio of sons.

“Monsters”, he says. “Can’t even give your to-san a break to snuggle up to your pretty ka’san.”

The girls shriek in dismay - Aiko, at being a witness to further gross displays of affection between her parents, Fumiko, at being called a monster despite being a self-proclaimed princess. You prod at the soft flesh between his ribs.

“Don’t be mean”, you admonish him.

He sniffs, taking the chance to draw you closer. “I’m cranky in the mornings unless I get a morning kiss.”

You snort, swatting at him. “You make it sound as if kisses contain caffeine.”

The girls giggle, but he protests.

“Full of nonsense”, you tease, but you kiss him, again and again and again.

Things settle into a steady, sustainable pace.

You refuse to allow him to bear the weight of the household on his back alone. There are frank conversations to be had about what each of you can realistically handle without burning out. He leads the charge in the mornings, whipping up breakfast with the aid of his two sous chefs, building an expertise in braiding and french twists that could possibly allow him to moonlight as a hairstylist. You, on the other hand, take charge of evening pick-ups, cooking dinners, supervising homework and art projects until he comes home and tags you out.

Chores are evenly split. He doesn’t allow you to assume the mental load of organising the household by yourself. “We both have a degree in business management”, he likes to remind you, because he now knows that remembering to run errands, scheduling appointments - all of this is work too.

You force him to take breaks. If you get to relax with your friends, so should he. “If you get too stressed, you’ll lose your hair and we can’t have that.” He yelps when he imagines himself bald and obediently complies when you call Kenma up, talk him into getting him and Bokuto and Akaashi (when he’s feeling less morose about his singlehood) to go for a round of pick up volleyball. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself”, you note wryly when he returns home crowing about how he stuffed an Olympic player with a kill block.

“I did”, he replies, catching your hips to pull you in, cheekily ignoring your complaints that he’s sweaty. “But I enjoy coming home to you even more.”

“Gross”, you grumble, but you seem content to remain in his arms.

It’s another small moment he treasures. Life, he learns, is made of moments, both big and small. He’d made the mistake of only focusing on the big ones - graduation, playing at nationals, the day he was lucky enough to marry you, each of his daughter’s birthdays. Now, though, he cherishes each moment, each second he has with you and the girls, no matter how little, no matter how small.

He likes to come into the bathroom each night, leaning his elbow on the edge of the bathtub as you chat to him about your day, luxuriating in the bath he drew for you. You and he take turns to complain about life’s inconveniences as you clear emails once the girls have gone off to bed- colleagues who shirk their work, bosses who nitpick overmuch, washing everything down with steaming cups of herbal tea.

“Are you happy?”, he asks you, night after night.

“Mm”, you say with an impish grin. “I’d be happier if you let me put my toes on your calves.”

“They’re freezing”, he groans but scoots over anyway. “Better?”

“Much better”, you hum, content. “Life is good.”

He’s not remiss in planning the big moments too.

A year passes quickly to your wedding anniversary. He packs your suitcase, books the train tickets and whisks you back to the ryokan in Hakone, though this time he upgrades you both to their largest suite. “I feel like a princess!” you exclaim, twirling about the room.

Your happiness is worth every yen he spent.

You spend the day strolling down avenues lined with cherry blossoms, Mount Fuji looming in the backdrop, the evening exchanging heated kisses in the private onsen he booked. You’re older now, with laughter lines creased into your forehead, grey streaks in your hair, but you’re still the same girl he fell in love with all those years ago.

“And you couldn’t wait ‘til we got back to our room?” you smack him.

He also loves how there’s fire burning bright in your eyes, the way it always used to. “You kissed me first!”

“You kissed me second!”

“I don’t hear you complaining”, he cackles.

You try to shush him, to no avail, as he draws the attention of everyone around him.

“What a happy couple”, an obaa-san remarks out loud. “They must be newlyweds.”

Well, she’s not wrong. You’re as radiant as you were fifteen years ago, his spring bride, but he’s an old man doddering on, hopefully with his edges sanded off with time. “Just your regular old, married couple”, he chortles when you’re safely back in the room.

“A happily married couple”, you reply, serenely sipping your tea. “That obaa-san definitely got that part right.”

There’s a lump in his throat that he can’t swallow. “Are you happy?” he manages to ask anyway.

“With you?” Your smile is warm, bright. Always.”

Both of you are doing alright.

a/n: it's been a while, hasn't it. i've been alright - how are you guys doing?

#kuroo x you #kuroo x reader #kuroo testuro #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff

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hotvintagepoll · 10 months ago

Text

Propaganda

Angela Lansbury (The Harvey Girls, The Court Jester, The Manchurian Candidate)—The babe, the myth, the legend. In her own words her early hollywood roles were "a series of venal bitches" and they were all glorious. Half of them wanted to kill you and you probably would have thanked them. She even goes toe to toe with Judy Garland in The Harvey Girls! That said, she was chronically underused and misused during this era - she was just 36 when she was cast as Elvis Presley's mother in Blue Hawaii and a few years later commented that she'd played so many 'old hags' that most people thought she was in her 60s. She thought she was "all talent, no looks" but she was the full package! Post-1970 I hope we all know what an incredibly talented and compassionate badass she was, but I feel like not enough people know her early roles as a hot (often villainous) young thing.

Angie Dickinson (Rio Bravo, Point Blank, Ocean's Eleven)—Though it could be argued that overall her career leans more to TV, during this time period she was splitting movie title credits with the very top names in the business.

This is round 1 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Propaganda for Angie Dickinson:

Propaganda for Angela Lansbury:

"Angela Lansbury might not be where your mind goes first when you think of hot leading women, because she had a later career revival. But she began acting in the early 1940s after leaving London due to the Blitz. In the first couple decades of her film career she has an openness about her. She said she never really fit in with the Hollywood crowd and to me she gives off a friendly, untarnished vibe."

"Most of us know Angela Lansbury as old lady sleuth Jessica Fletcher, but it's important to know that she was smoking hot in her younger days as well as a damned fine actress. Although she didn't get lead roles until her early 40s, at 17 she was a supporting actress in films such as Gaslight (1944), National Velvet (1944), and The Picture of Dorian Grey, for which she won the Golden Globe for best supporting actress and was nominated for the Oscar. Even in her memorable performance as the manipulative mother in The Manchurian Candidate, she is listed as a supporting actress as she does not play the love interest. She was successful both on stage and screen, and won the Tony for her lead role in the musical Mame on Broadway in 1966. TL;DR While Angela Lansbury mostly played supporting roles in films before 1970, she had what it takes to be a leading actress, which we know from her success on stage and tv from the mid 60s onward"

"She looked like a princess but bit like a viper"

"Is there anything this woman couldn't do? Act in comedy and drama, sing, dance, be a wonderful human being - quite simply a true and wonderful lady."

"god she had such an incredible career all throughout her life really but as a young lady she was just as incredible as she was in her later years. enchanting voice, amazing personality, and absolutely GORGEOUS. she lamented not having the looks to play leads in romance but that idea is so batshit because look at her??? she's one of the most terrific women of all time. also she's my grandmother's favorite actress and i truly get it"

"she is the fairytale princess of my dreams in court jester"

#angie dickinson #angela lansbury #hotvintagepoll #ladies 1 #fuck that old woman #here we go!

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cutieeva · 3 months ago

Text

Worth of a terror

Female reader

Warnings : Murder. Deaths. Attempt of sexual assaults.

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒

Married to the man one loves is magical even fairytale however if the man turns out to be a obsessed King is it really alright ? Or it is because there's much more truth in it.

Words spread ear to ear to nation to another nations of how in the country of Imperia the ruler is obsessed with his wife, the most wisest woman to be known (Y/N).

It is said that at the first sight princess (Y/N) of neighboring kingdom of Tharagon saw the soon to be King one day and fell fast and hard. Deciding he will be the one to hold her hand and lift her white veil of marriage so she begged her father who succumbed to his daughter's wishes arranged an meeting between the pair, a pair brought by the deities themselves because the moment the prince saw once glimpse of her visages cerulean pupils transform into heart and boldly bowed his knee to have her hand for eternal, soon the vows of love were exchange as well as the bloodshed didn't remain in the battlefield rather inside the walls of royalty too after the love climb into of akin madness, obsession and desire because the prince wore the crown and sat at the throne of his country ruled with benevolent smile yet iron fist for those who glance little to his wife. The fairytale love story commoners love begin to sour a lesson of the reasons why not to marry elites.

The new maid of the castle heard the passing whispers, tales and rumors time to time, none escaped her even when in front it's spoken loudly at all times the moment the royals are out sight by blue ribbon maids yet she notice one bit of how no golden ribbon maids gossip at all rather their lips are seal with sectary oh— golden maid are known for the private maids who serve the royals directly and handle their schedule and the reason of their name is for the noticeable difference between the hair bow color, the colors are important in the castle to identify one's position and the golden are the supreme and the new maids are the whites— oddly to define their purity and naïvity too, one older female maid with blue ribbon commented. Blue applys for the upper level after blooming their training.

In passing few times of sewing clothes and watering gardens did she caught glances of the wise queen she come to admire even respect deeply after an occurrence she would to this day have shivers in her spine. At dinner she was hosted to be one of the many maids to serve the royalty and when she went to gracefully fill the red wine like blood to the queen's glass god forbid again her weight on her hand slipped pouring few drops on the luxurious white dress. Paled her face was and fast her heart with darting eyes to the furious king who stood from his seat, marching to his wife with burning her though his glare to (Y/N) who rather of getting mad, yelling harshly and posing punishment worse, a laugh fell out of her rudy hue lips.

"Fear not. We are all prone to error, and from those mistakes, we shall glean valuable wisdom. Be at peace". Smiling ear to ear, her fingers touch the maid's white ribbon and gifted another comforting pat before wrapping a hand around her dear husband. Calming the beast that threat to spill out the maid could see and tremble her heart out.

"Compose yourself, my dear husband. Do not let your passions get the better of you, lest you succumb to apoplexy. She is but a mere child, prone to errors and innocent of malice." Wittly (Y/N) spin her wrist around for the servant to whisk away and she did excusing the pair where from the closed doors she could hear the muffled passionate kisses. Tips of ear burned when body flinched meeting the royal knight's gaze who stood blending in the shadows, he is known to be the queen's shining armor and the man the King failed to assassinate multiple times due to his skill experience and queen's help. The reason behind murdering the man is of jealous of course, no man alive should be closer to her heart then the king himself. What a hassel the maid believes running out ever grateful for the madam's kindness.

That at any command or meeting upon sights of queen never does she forget to get on both knees for the kind woman deserve all respect and it only increase when she was appointed from white ribbon to blue— one step closer to see more of her elder sister figure, every dress the queen wore becomes the maid's favorite too, never forgets to sing songs of praises with other blue ribbon maids who too tune to her child like nature unlike the golden ones whom seems to be as tight lips she recalls. Never forgets to mask a smell of expression nor word like perfect dolls they work with sealed lips.

Also there is another person who comes to see the queen more is the ruler and as the rumors believes he is a very much touchful person, never his hands left her body whether in public or behind closed doors as he boldly even kisses her startling the poor maid's heart yet a beyond level of understanding is come from her when each time the queen smile into the kiss and any touch and attention, never shy away however also not returning the same enthusiasm making pity stem in the maid's heart seeing the queen being a beauty to the beast for him to be a proper prince in this case the king.

"The royal family of neighboring kingdom is coming to Imperia nation". Is a pure chaos, the notice was late and the servants were barely able to match the rhythm of orders properly unlike each time. The dinner, the decoration everything expected to be perfect. Not a single mishap panicking the attendants even more.

Thankfully it was arrange hasty and beautifully. "Perfect". The queen utter, her chest swell in pride when her husband entered with all the servants bowing with their eyes on the floor. His arms find on her body along lips on her bare skin of side nape.

"Perfect indeed". His eyes half lidded, only for his utter heavenly wife.

"Not me, my dearest. The castle". Mellow chuckle escape her lips. Meeting his eyes.

"Still the most beautiful I can see is you". Truly (Y/N) sometimes believes her love of life could had been better off as an poet than an king. As a hopeless romantic is sweet it's quite endangering she is afraid.

"Thank you, love". Gratitude fill her heart with butterflies in her stomach. Staring right at the infuriating reflection of herself in his eyes just like the first time is nostalgic.

"Your Majesties, the carriages are few feets away". The royal adviser reminded the pair and intruded their session.

"Indeed I know". Frown brows cast his face, marred with annoyance the queen finds endearing. Her finger pads gently ease the wrinkled skin and brows even pressing as gentle as feather a kiss. Stealing his breath and heart altogether.

"It's alright, love. Better for the kingdom". Smile wide so much it crinkles her corners of eyes. "The more the merrier isn't it ?" She jested pulling a smile out of the stoic man, feared even.

"However, my queen, you are well aware that the neighboring kingdom is not particularly indispensable to our affairs?" King Vincent uttered, caressing strands of her hair.

"I do". Press a hand on his shoulder she left to prepare for their welcoming and it was easy would be a blunt lie by the palpable tension is visible to any naked eye.

The neighboring king is not what a proper nobleman should be behaving more like a scoundrel with Queen (Y/N), kissing her hand more than needed, staring more than appropriate and not shy away to brush touches and the servants quiver from the dreadful consequences of such actions because each could see the twitch in the king's eyes and the beast hidden too well inside those smile.

And the tension only stretched more at the supper when the daughter of the neighboring king urged to be sit next to King Vincent wantonly seduce the married man by brushing skins and serving dishes. Such a wretched and filthy woman the maid curse freely in her mind. How dare his daughter without blinking an eye snatch the husband of the woman her father is so desperately steal virtue of ? Such women are shame to be grown out from mother's womb the maid thought, glancing in awe how no hint of outbust is seen from (Y/N), she even tender with the maiden she doesn't deserve to get all while handling the aged man's greedy hands.

Truly a woman worth to love and respect and the maid is out of words to describe. Gratefully the supper came to an end and the pair of King and his daughter went to spend their night in their castle for tomorrow's farewell.

The moon hanged exquisitely among the stars covet by the darkness the maid stare from her window when a sudden thirst come to her. Sitting up in her bed her fingers went to the jar only to feel lighter—empty she realize. Groaning she held a lamplight in one hand and went to wonder for the kitchen, her steps precise and careful to reach the lengthy walls to the kitchen and at last drench the thrist she wake from her slumber.

Chop ! Her nerves freeze. Chop ! Blood drain from her veins. CHOP ! Shudder her body to the core. The sounds are clearly of slicing something— or someone. Despite the warnings in her brain advising to ran away her feet drag her to the creator of the noises, solely relying on the noises her eyes blind in darkness went near the open door with golden light peeking though. Prying eyes meet sorrow's sight. A saying she knows yet not heed.

Chop ! Her eyes flinch close before opening to peek and met a sight that shatter her entire faith, beliefs and trust.

Chop ! Because in front is the body of neighboring princess laying on the ground, her widen eyes stare directly to the maid's that lost the life in it, blood bled endlessly like spilled juices out from her cut— chopped parts. The sliver sword soaked in crimson color and smell drip little by little held by the culprit of her murder. Queen (Y/N) herself, the same woman who utters gentle words, sweet voice, pretty smiles. A beauty to her husband chop and dice and slice the parts of the woman like an carcass of pig. Droplets of blood scattered across her face, dress and hand.

Near is the neighboring king's body only sliced throat once. (Y/N) bore special hatred for the daughter to still torture her.

Footsteps towards the otherside sucked the maid's pulse, still her eyes watched as the owner revealed to be none other than King Vincent. A helpless sigh and defeated look carved out of him. "(Y/N), my losana what have you done this time ?"

"Oh, my love, I fear you are correct regarding their unnecessary pursuit of power to foster our nation's growth. Alas, I have taken drastic measures and eradicated the impurities." A feverish blush paint her majesty's face as she gaze at her husband. Grinning like a mischief goddess.

And without sparing glance her sword stab the daughter's detached head to stick before walking to Vincent. "You know I love you ? Hence I had to do this. She was a whore who should not live". Slight shiver hands cup his chin, connecting their foreheads. "You know you are mine and mine only ?"

"Indeed I do". Feebly lift his lips to smile and lean more. What could he do, she is a woman who loves fast and hard.

Suddenly her (E/C) eyes slide to the maid's direction who buried her head behind the wall with palm tight clasped on her lips even forbid breathing in fear of getting caught. Her chest up and fell and pupils changing. Because missed dots came connecting all round.

The real obsessed one was nd is not the king. It was the queen (Y/N) all along.

The missing and murders people were her fault, the queen kill them in rush of envy and jealous of rivalry. The rumors were reversed and the reason the golden ribbon servants seal their lips because they had been the ones cleaning the mess of her majesty, they were unspoken witness to the madness of her obsession not his.

She was always jealous thus the murder was commented. She was simply good at hiding, behind that naïve smile. Same one the maid was bestowed. No wonder the king is tamed.

Quickly hers feets disspeared to the darkness to her quarter to not be discovered and be beheaded or worse fate.

The next rise of sun came faster than she wanted and she had to do her duty with empty mind is difficult with too many mistakes. When she notice the lines of servants behind the queen is appearing. The images invaded her thoughts again, gripping her in fear. Her knees bowed on her own.

The smell of lavender suffocated her and the sight of the queen's grown came to view. She could feel her leaning closer, closer and closer until her lips were near her ear. "Remember to have water on your jar before the bed". She knows. She knows. She knows.

With that her heels turn to see her husband. A husband who should have been a poet not a leader as he was not a man of bloodshed. How twist of fate.

A strangled grasp left the maid's lips meeting the back of the queen and her close knight. She is truly a worth of a terror.

FIN

Notice : ⌜ I will soon focus and complete the lost series ⌟

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vxnuslogy · 5 months ago

Text

– to fall for the sun.

pairing: albedo x gn!reader

premise: albedo was not a poet, but for you, he could try to become one.

– warnings: fluff, yearner albedo, he sucks at poetry (he's trying his best), poor attempts in making poetry at the end

– author’s notes: this is a remake of my old albedo fic but instead of angst, its fluff so yippie!! art credits goes to @.Jotto75 on twitter. thank you to @lowkeyren for proofreading and creating the title <3 | ~1.4k words.

“mr. albedo, are you alright?” sucrose, his assistant, asked. worry etched in her eyes as she watches her mentor’s hunched figure throw away another crumpled piece of paper.

“yes, yes, i’m quite alright. please don’t mind me.”

but albedo was anything but alright. he pushed his messy hair back with his hand and let out a tired sigh. albedo had ultimately underestimated your talent in making poetry–he had always assumed you just wrote whatever you felt on paper–no need for fancy words or metaphors. yet here he was, on the third day in a row, filling the small trash bin in his office with poorly written declarations of love.

albedo wonders how you do it. you, a traveler from fontaine, coming to visit mondstadt to explore the nation’s ballads and poetry, had easily captured the hearts of many by just walking down the cobblestone paths that lead inside its walls. you with your charming presence, felt like a character from an inazuman fairytale, had even captured the bard in green. but more than that, you had captured his attention—maybe even his heart—by simply existing.

with one glance you had enamored his chalky heart. suddenly, the paint brushes that were in his hand itched to be used on a blank canvas to paint your portrait, wanting to forever remember the smile that glowed under the afternoon sun. albedo could’ve sworn he saw fresh cecilias beneath your feet with every step you took inside the city.

in one glance, you flashed him a knowing smile and gave him a bow.

venti played his lyre and before the chalk prince knew, he was tugged into a dance near the city’s fountain. everyone laughed and danced and sang, but all albedo could see was the way you sat by the bard, a quill in your hand and a piece of parchment on the other. you cleared your throat, capturing everyone’s attention and started reciting your magnum opus.

albedo didn’t quite understand most of its content–a real shame he thinks–but there was one line that made his mind tick in interest.

“why does icarus continue to fly despite his impending doom?”

he was not a poet by any means, he was a researcher, a slave to finding the truth, but he found the mystery behind your words worth uncovering.

so for the next few days you stayed in mondstadt, albedo had asked for your time to ask you questions. the two of you spent your time in dragonspine in his lab. he asked about your inspirations as you chatter about your love for words and asked him in return on why he paints. albedo concluded after your time together that you were simply born with poetry running through your veins and pumping metaphors and analogies to your beating heart. there was no sense of logic in your being–it wasn’t a bad thing, emotions seemed to transcend all logic to begin with–and he found that incredibly charming.

which leads to his predicament now: inside his office, trying to rack his brain on a verse that would evoke the same feeling you showed him when you first met.

he loved your poetic mind, the calluses from pens on your fingers, your ink-stained blouses and hands, the love letters hidden under the guise of friendly affections—he loved you. but he didn’t know how to showcase it. relationships were troublesome–hard to maintain. but he wanted to try. he didn’t fall in love easily–he didn’t even know he was capable of falling in love–but he felt his growing yearning for you deep in his chalk stained bones. for once in his life, albedo wanted his fixation and interest in you to last a lifetime, afraid of the lingering bittersweet sensation that you would leave him.

with one last sigh, he picked up his sketchbook and left his office. a change of pace would surely inspire him, he tried to convince himself, but not even a few steps later, he sees you by the entrance of the knight’s headquarters. and like the first time, you flashed him a smile with those eyes and his mind went blank. you tug at his hand–his heart–ever so gently, urging him to have a picnic with you under the afternoon sun.

“you seem to really love using icarus in your poems.” albedo randomly mentioned, taking a bite of the adventurer’s sandwich you bought. you only hum and continue to write in your journal. against his better judgment, albedo leaned into your space, trying to take a peek of your newest piece, but you quickly shut the journal and stuck your tongue at him.

“peeking is rather rude y’know?” you jest and his chuckle ringed out.

“pardon my rudeness,” he said. “i was simply curious.”

albedo was sure there was something swimming in his chest–fondness, most probably–as you flash him a knowing smile. you take out something from your bag, a crown made out of cecilias and windwheel asters, and place it on the crown of his head, leaving him with a quiet but undeniable joy that he couldn’t quite name.

“i see myself as icarus, that’s my answer.”

“how so?” he asked, mindlessly flipped through his sketchbook and felt a growing smile tug at his lips when he saw your handwriting in the corners of a few pages.

you don’t answer–you never do– but albedo never minded. he liked it whenever you left him guessing. for the rest of the afternoon, you both spend your time in each other’s presence as you eat your food. you talked about the new book lisa had given you to read in your spare time and he asked you what colors he should use on his next painting. “yellow because they remind me of you.” would always be your reply and he’d comply.

by the time he waved you goodbye and sat back down in his office, there was another letter pressed in his sketchbook. he could already feel his heart racing as he reached for it.

“to my dearest, albedo

you seem to really ponder over the last verse of my poem when i first arrived in mondstatd. i must say, i feel honored that i made your mind tick with curiosity. i found myself gravitating towards your presence more and more after you asked me if i could be the subject of your painting. that was the first time i’ve ever been the muse to someone’s creation. it sent my heart into a giddy fit you know. you are no poet, as i am no painter; i cannot paint the image i have of you on a canvas, but i can put my affections into words. after all, the verse ‘why does icarus continue to fly despite his impending doom.’ was always meant for you—to capture your attention.”

albedo sat down on his chair, a gloved covering half of his face to hide the pathetically infatuated smile on his face. he took out the second letter from the envelope, bracing his heart to whatever emotion you would stir inside him.

“like icarus, i found myself

flying straight into the pools of his eyes

with my wings made of wax,

i soared straight into his guarded heart

and let his burning affections scorch me and melt my wings.

then i fell—or so i thought

my body did not meet the ground harshly,

for he caught me,

in all the gentleness known to mankind,

he treated my scorched skin with care.

i was icarus and he is my sun,

with gold and glitter in all his glory.

icarus is a fool in love.

why does icarus continue to fly, despite his impending doom?

because the sun is icarus’s love.

in every lifetime, he will always choose to fall,

loving him despite it being too hot, too close.

icarus is a fool in love, for without the sun,

he would have no reason to live.

why would icarus fly if he had no sun to fly to?”

albedo’s eyes traced over the last line of your poem, his heart rattling with uncharacteristic tenderness and a gentle ache. your words had breathed life to the emotions he never knew he was capable of feeling.

he looked down on his sketchbook, then out the window to gaze at the setting sun. the warmth reminding him of your love for icarus—him. he was no poet, but for you, he could perhaps become one.

with careful hands like you described in your poem, he folded the parchment and placed it gently into his sketchbook, right beside the finished sketch of you under the afternoon sun, cecilias blooming right under your feet. a small smile tugged at his lips as he picked up his pencil.

for the first time in a long while, albedo finally understood what it meant to be inspired.

#—stellaronhvnters.#・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact albedo #albedo x reader #albedo x you #albedo genshin impact #albedo headcanons #albedo imagines #( 🂡 ) – royal flush of stories .ᐟ

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honeykaes · 1 year ago

Text

not a fairytale

pairing: ayato x femme!reader II 3.1k

warning: smut, 18+ content, minors do not interact, hurt/comfort, angst, arranged-marriage au, based on queen charlotte, reader is from fontaine, fingering, cunnilingus, virginity loss, creampies, unedited

synopsis: to improve relations between inazuma and fontaine, focolors and raiden shogun arrange you and ayato to get married much to your dismay. As you try to be hopeful about the situation, you find yourself getting angrier and lonelier as ayato completely distances himself from your life.

A small lit candle on your vanity illuminated the dark room as wax soon dropped along its golden holder. Your obi, decorated in navy and sewn with silver cranes was thrown to the ground, leaving your robe barely covering your chest and stomach.

Your eyes gazed at your reflection in the mirror, darkened eyes watching you back. You looked completely different than you did in Fontaine three months ago before you had sailed across the lands for weeks to reach Inazuma where you would reside for the rest of your days with a man you had never met before.

It had been three months since you had married Ayato Kamisato, the head of the Yashiro Commission in Inazuma.

The archons, Focolars and the Raiden Shogun had chosen your families to wed as to improve relations between the two nations—your family, hailed for its international politics and diplomacy matched with his family’s managing shrines, festivals, and other cultural events. You had traded your bodices, frills, and corsets for robes, obis, and haoris.

You hated being a pawn in a game you weren’t even playing, but how could you fight against two all-powerful archons? When you first met your husband, he had seemed kind as you battled with yourself whether you could run away without your family being tried by Focolars for “breach of contract”. Ayato offered reassurances, that you wouldn’t be forced to do anything you didn’t please, that you’d be free how to go about life in the estate.

It comforted your heart and made you hopeful that you had an ally, someone to rely on, someone to eventually trust and love. Yet, after you said your vows in front of the people of Inazuma adorned in a white shiromuku kimono you didn’t get to choose, he distance himself from you and ushered off to attend to whatever with his retainers flashing a sad look to you.

The two of you haven’t even consummated the wedding. How utterly embarrassing. The man had not provided a shared bedroom with him. It was separate rooms, separate lives, separate people.

You hardly saw him at all.

You gripped your fists tight, nails digging in the flesh of your palms. Tears pricked at your eyes watching your hardened eyes fill with them.

“It’s not fair. I didn’t want this. I never wanted a marriage like this…” you muttered out loud. You heard a timid knock on the door as one of your personal retainers, Ayato seemed to assign her to, peaked her head out of the door.

“My l-lady? Are you crying?” she stammered out. You narrowed your eyes at her, quickly wiping your cheeks to hide any stains or residue your tears could leave behind. Shifting under the weight of your cold gaze, her eyes leered away momentarily before gazing back at you.

“I’m fine,” you muttered. “He missed my dinner invitation again despite the numerous attempts to get his attention. I’m not going to try anymore. I’m tired of feeling like this.”

The retainer hesitantly leered behind her again before letting out a soft sigh.

“I see, my lady. But, my lord is actually here at the door with me wishing to speak with you,” she answered, opening the door further to reveal Ayato’s somber form peering over at you. He was dressed casually in a pale blue yukata, purple heko obi wrapped around his waist. His lips pulled themselves in a frown.

The sight of his eyes gazing at you pitifully caused bubbles of anger to rile deep in your chest. You turned your head around glaring at the pair through the reflection of the mirror.

“I don’t care. Va-t’en!” you barked. The retainer shrunk as you yelled, looking up to Ayato as he silently lifted a hand up signaling she could leave. The retainer rushed out as Ayato walked fully into your private chamber, closing the shoji behind him. You hear his heavy footstep creep closer to you as you shut your eyes, knowing he was now right behind you.

“(Name), I believe I owe you a long-deserved apology,” he murmured. You napped your eyes open, whipping your head around, and scoffed, seeing his frown deepen.

“Oh? What makes you say that?” you sarcastically ask. You rose from your seat, jamming a finger into his chest. Ayato could feel the daggers digging into his eyes from your gaze.

“You said we were in this together. That’s what you told me on our wedding day! That’s what you even said in your vows to me,” you barked. Tears were beginning to prick at the corners of your eyes once more, as Ayato’s eyes softened.

“You made me believe that this shitty situation would be hopeful! That I’d be happy despite being a sacrificial pawn to my nation,” you yelled out. Ayato briefly closed his eyes, letting out a deep sigh from his chest.

“...It seems my own judgment about you was incorrect,” he replied, reaching out and placing his hand on your shoulder. A fire lit under you as the rage that developed for months finally reached its boiling point. You shrugged away his hand, Ayato’s mouth opening in surprise.

“Don’t act like my husband now, my lord,” you cooly reply. Ayato closed his mouth, taking a sigh once more to collect himself and retreating his hand back to his sigh.

“When we first met, and I saw you at the docks strategizing with yourself on how you could wiggle yourself out of this situation, I couldn’t help but smile. It comforted me that I was also not alone in feeling like a pawn to the archons, to the nation,” he confessed. You sniffled, crossing your arms tight. He thought you would interrupt him, curse at him, beat on his chest but you stood there, silent tears streaming down your face, and simply glared at him.

“You told me your wish for independence. I knew that you did not want this, so I did not want to force you into a role you had no choice to do. I wanted you to be able to do as you pleased and work on your efforts of diplomacy and international cultural teachings Inazuma needs after the Sakoku Decree lifted—”

“No, Ayato! I WANTED LOVE!”

Your eyes widened surprised by your own outrage before drifting your arms to hug yourself. Your blurry vision darted to the floor, shame bubbling inside of you as you finally admitted the core issue of your frustration. Ayato’s lilac eyes widened, taking a step back surprised at your outburst too.

You turned your body around, trying to escape his eyes peering into your own. The two of you briefly sat in silence, the candle still burning briefly alerting you that Ayato still remained there, paused as his shadow did not move.

You wiped your eyes once more, sniffing loudly to prevent any snot threatening to peak from your nose, and took a shaky sigh before turning around to face your husband. His eyes had narrowed, not from anger or disappointment, but from thought.

“...As a child, my favorite story was Cendrillon. Although I did not have an evil stepmother or step-siblings, I related to that poor girl so much,” you confessed. Ayato took a silent step forever, getting closer to you.

“Yes, I wanted my independence and freedom but I also wanted to share that with someone that I loved,” you uttered, voice beginning to get shaky. Ayato still had not said a word, same expression outlined on his face.

“...I…” Ayato trailed off before, closing his mouth once again. He took a deep breath, an attempt to reassure himself against your own watchful eyes.

“When my parents passed when I was a child, the stories that I loved…I began to hate them. How could these fairytales, love like that even exist even when I would never be granted those privileges? I couldn’t shrink my responsibility, I had to take care of my little sister and the clan my father had left for me,” Ayato recalled, closing his eyes.

“I didn't understand because I had the legacy of my bloodline, my family on my shoulders; however…” he trailed off, reaching his hand for your palm. He lifted the appendage up, pressing his lips against your palm.

“...I need to at least be willing to learn with you. I cannot promise I will be a prince from those stories, but, as I said in our vows, I will open myself to you, in my heart…if you’ll still let me.”

You froze as Ayato gave you a soft smile, letting your hand go and placing his large palm against your cheek. It was warm, his touch gentle as if he was handling cracked glass. As more tears cascaded down your cheek, he wiped them away with his thumb slowly leaning him and placing his lips on top of your own.

And to both of your surprise, your eyes fluttered close—pressing your lips back with the same fervor.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, deepening the kiss and closing an inch of space between you two—lips desperate and clinging on to the hope of reassurance of the future of your marriage. A low moan reverberated from Ayato’s lips, drifting his hands to your waist, and pulling you closer. You gasped feeling something hard beginning to nudge your upper thighs, before he gripped your robe—already exposing much of your body to him—and took it off, leaving you bare to him

Embarrassment fills your form remembering the little clothes you did have on when you confronted Ayato, but it didn’t matter at this moment; his hands gently brought your body down against the large plush futon on the ground. He laid on top of you, breaking the kiss momentarily to let his eyes wander across your form before claiming them once more. Ayato’s hand brushed against your thighs, pinching the plush skin of your upper thighs.

Ayato breaks the kiss once more, grunting in brief frustration, at the lack of contact his skin was having yours. With his obi and yukata joining your attire, your eyes fell to his hardened cock before he laid on top of you once more, pressing his lips against the shell of your ear. His hand snaked itself between your thighs, cupping your slit as a soft sigh escaped your lips.

“Ayato, please,” you begged. He sucked a breath in and felt his cock throb at the low seductive nature of your voice. Two fingers brushed themselves along your fold, gathering up the slick drooling out of you You gasped as they sank themselves inside, inching deeper into your core. Ayato struggled pumping his fingers inside of you from how tight you were, walls clinging against him as if they didn’t want them to leave.

“You’re beautiful and already dripping this much for me. I didn't take you for the innocent type,” he hummed in your ear. Your nails harpooned in the soft silk of your sheets, feeling hot precum smearing against your leg as Ayato absentmindedly ground himself against you.

“I see you’re feeling confident now, my lord,” you muttered in response. Ayato clicked his tongue, pressing his lips against your neck.

“I thought I told you when we got married not to call me that. I want to hear your voice, especially like this, call me by my given name,” he whispered. You choke out another moan, his fingers scissoring themselves to stretch you out further. Ayato leaned over, stealing another kiss from you, before parting his fingers. The digits were illuminating under the dim light, caked with your arousal before Ayato briskly lapped them up.

His lips moved down from your neck, leaving a trail of burning kisses along your body.

“W-What are you doing now,” you stammered out as he reached the valley of your breasts. His hands propped up, fondling the pair with a tight squeeze as you whined.

“Something you’ll enjoy, I promise,” he reassured, lips curling to a smirk. He flashed his eye up briefly at you, admiring your embarrassed expression eating up every move and tease he was showing to your body. A soft laugh escaped him before continuing to kiss down your body until he reached your naval.

“Did they not explain what consummating truly meant?” he hummed in amusement, lips moving towards your inner thighs. You ball your hands into fists, pounding them down against the futon.

“I know what it means! I’ve read books about it, Ayato! It’s not like I had anything else to do stuck inside of here all day!” you barked back. Your husband, who was nipping at your inner thighs, paused hesitantly before offering you a regretful smile.

“Hence why I want to give you the best experience possible. To help atone for my cruelty,” he replied. He set his sight on your entrance, watching your sweet hole puckering on nothing, and leaned in further. Opening his mouth, Ayato pressed his tongue along your slit, sliding the muscle up and down. You whined, pleasure shooting through you as his tongue nudged against your clit ever so often.

He slurped the abundant slick pouring from you, wrapping his lips against your swollen clit and sucking with passion. His name yelled from your lips, drifting your hands down on Ayato’s soft pale blue hair—pushing his head further against your crotch. Your ground your hips against his face desperate for more friction on the bundle of nerves.

“Heh…our retainers probably know what we are doing from how loud you are being,” he cooed, giving your clit kitten licks as your hips bucked for more. He quickly released your hands that were pressing against Ayato’s hair covering your mouth in embarrassment. He clicked his tongue, corners of his lips turned downwards before gliding two fingers back inside of your warmth, curling themselves inside of you as if they were determinately searching for something.

“That’s not to say to be quiet, love. Please…I want to hear your voice. Let me know how my actions are making you feel,” he breathlessly groaned. You shakily let your hands go, pitch rising as Ayato went back to toying with your clit as he pumped his fingers inside of you. Your stomach churned, thighs trembling as you crawled closer to your high.

“Ayato! Ayato, fuck!” you cursed out loudly, overwhelmed with the pleasure he graced you with throughout your body. As you shivered in pleasure, hips rising without control, Ayato pressed his hand down—trying to control your writhing form.

“Easy there. Shhh, I got you,” he cooed, helping you ease down from your climax. Your chest heaved, catching your breath—half-lidded, tired eyes peering up at his soft ones. You drifted your eyes away from his gaze as he leaned up, wiping his mouth of the slick that clung onto it.

Your attention was now on his cock, twitching impatiently. Although it wasn’t girthy, it was long and looked heavy as it curled up. Precum budded at his flushed tip; a few moles littering along its base.

Ayato lined himself up against your slit, the sensation feeling foreign to you as he reassuringly nudged his tip against your burning clit. You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, trying to internally prepare for what was to come.

“I won’t sugarcoat it, this is going to be painful,” he murmured, offering you a kiss on your cheek. “But, just let me know when you're ready for me to start moving. Don’t worry about how long that will take. I’m a patient man.”

Ayato slowly slid his cock inside of you. You suck a sharp breath in, walls burning as you feel him slowly stretching you out overtook your senses. As he inched further, Ayato found gnawed on his bottom lip fighting the urge to immediately bottom out. Your walls were soft, tightly clenched around his length. Your nails dig into his pale. Broad shoulders as tears develop in your eyes.

As he finally bottoms out, he peppered kisses along your tear-stained face, softly moaning at your pulsating walls trying to milk him.

“You’re taking me so well. It’s hard to control myself when I have you like this,’ he confessed, drawing shapes on your hips to distract yourself from the pain. His fingers eventually move away finding themselves against your clit while it rubbed tight circles, trying to ease the torment into pleasure

Time eventually passes and you whine, offering a shaky nod. Pressing his lips on yours one more time, his hips begin to move. His pace is powerful, clearly overwhelmed by your cunt. You could hear him grunt against the shell of your ear, muttering your name repeatedly.

Your legs wrapped around his thin waist, allowing him to plunge himself deeper. Ayato’s tip brushed against the spot he had found earlier and you yelped out in response. Your head had thrown back, sliding your nails down his back as he clenched his jaw at the sharp pain. He increases his pace, as the sound of skin slapping against one another echoed throughout the room.

With his balls slapping against your ass, his eyes focused on his cock continuously disappearing inside of you, glistening in your slick. Your stomach churned, walls fluttering down as you crept closer to your high once more.

His patience had sadly thinned too much, shutting his eyes tight and grunting loudly. His hips stifled, cum shooting deep inside of you.

“I can’t stop myself, I’m sorry,” he slurred out, pressing his face tight against the nape of your neck. He continued to rut against you, thrusting his cum deeper as one hand stroked along your thigh to try to wake him up from this spell.

As his thrust slowed and then halted, sheathed completely inside of you, he lifted his face from your sweaty nape—capturing your lips once more. The two of you moaned before he leaned away again.

A blush had decorated Ayato’s face, lilac eyes darker and focused as if you were the only person on the planet. His head clung onto his forehead, his lips, glossy, as a string of saliva connected them with yours still. You let your hands fall to the futon before Ayato weaved his own with them and gave you a soft smile.

He was beautiful like this, vulnerable. It was different from his usual distant, calculating self.

“What made you come tonight,” you whispered. Ayato sighed, letting your hands go and leaning his head to rest on one of your breasts.

“My sister and one of my closest retainers, Thoma. The pair held an intervention for me and put the mirror to my face on how I was treating you. He paused briefly.

“As I said, I’m truly sorry. You won’t have to worry about me leaving you alone anymore,” he whispered. You smiled.

Although it would not make up for everything he put you through, it was at least a start.

A glimmer of hope.

You brushed his hair with your hand, closing your eyes—a peace you haven’t felt in months overtaking you.

“We’re in this together. Never forget that.”

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin smut #ayato x reader #ayato smut #ayato imagines #ayato scenarios

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fatuismooches · 1 year ago

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fabulam diu oblitus - postlude.

synopsis: The tale of the raven and the sparrow has long been forgotten by most, but some will always remember.

includes: dottore w/ gn! reader

notes: This is the fourth part of this fic, please read the other parts first! It seems that the fairy tale of you and Dottore comes to an end. Follows some of Sumeru's storyline. Warning for death. Angst. Thank you to my mootie @kaixserzz and my all of my dear anons (🎐, 🐓 <3) who kept me inspired to keep writing this fic :3

prelude. first interlude. second interlude. postlude. sequel.

“The raven and butterfly’s happiness continued for much longer. But of course, every creature is aware that nothing lasts forever, and even the lightning in the sky would agree with that statement. All fairytales must come to an end. That was no different for the raven and the butterfly.”

There had been a buzz around the lab lately. Some of the segments had been ordered to leave for a Fatui mission. Which, would have been a normal occurrence, were it not for the place they were headed to this time.

“Sumeru? You’re going to Sumeru?” Your home country had instantly gotten your attention, not only because you haven’t been back in centuries, but also because the segments were never usually dispatched there, instead causing their usual chaos in other nations.

“Indeed. We will see if the Balladeer is able to become the God he so desires to be,” Omega hummed, moving a hand underneath your shirt to record your heartbeat. Ah, that was right. The puppet had stolen the Electro Gnosis to use as his ascension into godhood… and Dottore would be there to see how his experiment plays out. Well, you already had a feeling about how that would turn out.

Moving on to a different subject, although Sumeru was the home you and Zandik were chased out of, you still held fond memories of it. Many happy things happened there for you, so the thought of it made you smile.

“You have to bring back lots of stories for me! And souvenirs! Oh, I would love to see how much Sumeru has changed from all those years ago,” you dreamily smiled. Yeah, your favorite cafe was probably gone by now… but you’d love to see what replaced it!

“Of course. I expect there will be much to say with the God of Wisdom and the Traveler intervening as well,” Omega chuckled, scribbling down something on his clipboard after glancing at the monitor, before fixing your shirt back.

“Your vitals have been better lately,” the segment commented and patted your head, which you happily indulged in. It wasn’t too noticeable, but it seemed like your body was getting even a little bit better. Not much, a little. But that was good anyway. “But run along now. There is much preparation to be done regarding the trip to Sumeru.”

“Okayyyy,” you stretched your words a bit disappointedly, not wanting to leave the segment, but you knew he had a lot of work to do. So instead you settled with pecking him on the cheek which he of course returned tenfold before you went off on your way. You had quite a few segments to say goodbye to, after all! You’d miss them a lot, but, you still had the other segments here with you. And your lover of course.

Surely, they would be back in the blink of an eye. Yes, surely, they’d return just as they always did. You had no reason to think otherwise. And so for the next few days, everything was normal. Time passed regularly. You got through the days as you did with any other.

But one day was different.

You were in your room by yourself, enjoying your alone time. Because as much as you loved being around the segments, you still liked being by yourself too. But all of a sudden, your tranquility was interrupted by literally a bang on your door, which made you jump.

The knock on your door was frantic and loud. Immediately you hopped out of bed to see what could possibly be so important that your door was getting pounded, but when you opened the door there was no one there. You were very confused… how was that possible? This was a pretty long hallway. Even with the segments’ abilities, there was no way they could just disappear into thin air like that.

A bad feeling began to creep up on you, your stomach twisting and turning. You don’t know why, but it just did. But surely you were overreacting. Perhaps… perhaps… actually, you didn’t have any valid reasoning you could think of right now. Maybe though, maybe you should go and check on them. Just in case. You know that they’ll be there, in the lab doing their experiments or perhaps bickering with each other as usual, but there was nothing wrong with double-checking. And then you’ll calm yourself with a nice hug from one of them. It would all be okay.

But you found that your steps were quicker and longer than usual, your breathing heavier than usual. As you got closer to the main lab’s doors, you strained your ears for their voices, anything, something, but heard nothing. You licked and bit your lip that had gone dry, weak legs walking even faster if that was possible, before you swung open the doors, hoping to see those blue mops of hair you so desired to see.

Nothing. The room was empty.

Your footsteps slowed, walking into the room cautiously. It was strange because it looked as if there were people in here just a few minutes ago. Notes that were left unfinished halfway. Beakers that had broken on the floor, with some mysterious liquids soaking the floor. Strange, very strange. And yet no trace of any segments remained.

The bad feeling had grown into something much worse now. Where else? Where else could they be?

Their rooms. You should check their rooms. They were usually there if they weren’t in the lab, doing their own respective work (because their office and rooms doubled as one since they didn’t need to sleep.) So despite how your chest burned, and your legs ached, it didn’t matter if it meant your heart would be soothed and relieved.

You ran as fast as you could, more like you tried to because your illness had really kicked in since your mind was stressing out a great amount. As you clung to the walls, catching your breath, you paid no mind to the random agents who were looking at you funny, nor did you manage to catch their words of “Omega” or “erased” or “gone.”

It took longer than it should have taken you, but at last, you made it to the corridor with the segments’ rooms. You didn’t bother to knock, swinging open the door to Alpha’s room.

Empty.

Beta’s room.

Empty.

Every single room was empty. Fuck, even Zandy’s room was empty. And he was always in there if he wasn’t with you. Your head was throbbing with unease now, your heavy, troubled breathing sounding throughout the whole hallway. Where? Where? Where did they go…?!

“[Name].” A voice sounded from behind you. Spinning around, it was Dottore. Your Dottore! Okay, at least he was still here!

“Dottore,” you breathed a sigh of relief. He would have an explanation for this. “Dottore, where are all the segments? I-I can’t find them anywhere. I mean, I know the lab is really big, but it’s strange for them not to be in these areas,” you placed a hand on your rapidly beating heart, trying to calm it, not noticing your husband’s expression.

“...” The scientist was unsure of how to break the news to you because he knew of the bond you shared with the segments.

“Dottore? Why aren’t you answering me?” He opened his mouth to respond, but paused, seemingly trying to determine the best way to phrase his words. That only worried you more, because he was never one to sugarcoat his words. Your nervousness had returned once more, burning heat from fear creeping up your shoulders. “Zandik, answer me.”

“They’re gone, [Name].” The words took a few moments to settle in, silence overtaking the area for a little bit. But only for a little bit, as your nervous laughter rang out interrupting it.

“Gone?” You repeated. “What do you mean gone? They just can’t be gone. Right? Right, Dottore?” The nervous smile that had etched its way onto your face hurt badly, the laughter mixed with wheezing was painful, but it was all you could do to convince yourself this was a lie.

“Omega has… deleted them in exchange for the Electro Gnosis.” You looked at him blankly, the former emotion on your face gone.

“Deleted? Deleted from this world? From existence?” Your tone got higher and higher as you continued speaking. You didn’t even know Omega had the ability to do that. Or that the segments could be erased in the first place. Dottore just nodded in response.

“But- but why? Surely t-there was another way?” Your voice was on the verge of breaking into tears.

“He wanted to show respect to the God of-”

“Respect? To a God, of all people?” You hissed, bubbles of anger surfacing now through your agony. “He’s a Harbinger, is he not? And he’s stronger than that God! He- he could have easily found another way! He didn’t have to DELETE the segments! Another method HAD to have been possible! Did he even try to negotiate?!” Hot tears ran down your cheeks as you raised your voice at him. It took everything it had in you not to fully scream. You began to pace back and forth, hand covering your already tear-streaked face, whole body shaking. Your husband could only watch.

Dottore wasn’t thrilled with Omega deleting all his segments either, with the endless resources that went into creating them, but what’s done was done. And both the Electro and Dendro Gnoses were acquired. But you? You were on the verge of hysterics. He had never, not once, seen you like this.

You had come to a stop, head buried into your arm as you braced against the wall. Oh, the segments were gone forever. They were never coming back. You could only imagine how they must have been in their last moments. That they only had a few more moments to live. You couldn’t bring yourself to think about what Zandy must have thought in his last few seconds.

And what’s more, the segments had disappeared into… nothingness. There was no trace, no remains of their bodies whatsoever. And although seeing their bodies on the floor would have certainly destroyed you, perhaps this was even a worse fate. Because it was as if they never existed at all. You couldn’t even hold their bodies one last time, or give them a proper farewell. They were just… gone. Oh, how you wished you could have at least been there in their last moments, to provide some comfort, some love, some sense of peace. The more you thought about it, the countless memories with them flowing through your mind, the weaker your violently shaking body became as you struggled to hold yourself up. Dottore instantly noticed and, worrying about your frail condition, walked up to you before you spat out at him.

“Do not come near me.” Out of all the centuries Zandik has spent with you, he has never been on the receiving end of much anger from you. Rather, it was you who dealt with that from him. But this wasn’t just anger. It felt like venom.

“Why…” You pulled yourself up once again before glaring at him with teary eyes. “Why didn’t you stop him, Zandik? You could have, couldn’t you? They didn’t have to die…!”

There was only one answer the Harbinger could provide, even though he knew you would not like it. “It was necessary to obtain the Electro and Dendro Gnoses for the Fatui.” To this, you could only laugh again once more before digging your nails into your palms so hard it hurt.

“I see. I see…” You mumbled brokenly before stepping off to the side, your steps still unsteady and wobbly as you nearly tripped. Dottore once again tensed up, body wanting to move to support you, but the look on your face made him decide against it. You then walked past him, not sparing another look at him before exiting the corridor, tears still silently running down your face. He could only watch you as you left him standing, wondering about many things yet nothing at all.

—

“From that day, there was a drastic shift in the butterfly and raven’s relationship. The butterfly was indescribably hurt by the loss of the other ravens, and could not bear the pain. It was the first time the raven had ever been subjected to such cold treatment by his lover. Usually, it was the other way around. And it seemed like fixing this would not be easy.”

Dottore thought that if he gave you some space, you’d cool off soon enough.

He thought wrong.

You had flat-out been ignoring Dottore since the day the segments were erased. And not just refusing to talk to him. You didn’t even want to be in the same space as him. If he came into your room, you would just leave. As soon as he opened his mouth, you were gone. In order to give you your meds, he had to wait until you were sleeping to slip in, because of the way you were acting. When it was time to eat, he had to leave the meal outside your door, otherwise, you wouldn’t eat. That is if you even took it. The grief made it hard for you to do a lot of things, which made it imperative for him to help, but you didn’t want it. You were distraught, but you were angry too. Why?

Because you truly loved the segments.

Dottore did not. He did not feel the same connection as you did. So he was at a loss. He didn’t know what to do to resolve this. Apologize? No, he suspected even if he did, it wouldn’t mean anything, because you’d know he didn’t fully mean it, and it wouldn’t bring the segments back anyway. Comfort you? You wouldn’t allow him to hold you or talk to you. Il Dottore did not know what should be done.

Omega received similar treatment when finally returned from Sumeru, the Gnoses in hand. Normally, you would be waiting at the entrance whenever he returned from expeditions. This time, however, you were not, which he supposed he should have expected. You didn’t want his stories. His gifts. No, all you needed to know was that he deleted the segments. They were gone because of him, and you didn’t want to see him right now.

Omega was not a human. He was a segment. Though, that didn’t mean that he couldn’t feel emotions. He did - when it came to you. But Omega was a selfish segment. Selfish when it came to a lot of things, you included. And selfishness and emotions do not bode very well, as it becomes… a convoluted mixture.

The segment thinks of himself as a patient man. He knows how to wait, and wait, and wait until it pays off. He can do that for you, too. Wait for you to come back to your senses. After all, they were just segments, right? And the superior one, the best one of them all was still here - him. So surely you won’t be like this for too long.

Just like his creator, he was proven wrong. He learned the depth of your anger a day he tried reaching out to you, wanting to put this whole situation behind. But you certainly didn’t share the same sentiment. It was like any other day, him talking to you and you walking away, but this time he reached out for you. The segment unconsciously longed for your touch, your affection, that was once so commonplace.

But as soon as you felt his fingers brush yours, you slapped Omega’s hand away with a scowl. You didn’t need to say anything. That one action spoke everything you wanted to.

You would never view him the same ever again.

—

“And so the butterfly found themselves drowning and suffocating in grief. Their whole life had been changed, the creatures who helped them through so much were now gone. But that would not be the last of the butterfly’s sorrow.”

You had been giving the cold shoulder to Zandik and Omega for a long time. Considering how clingy and affectionate you were before, they didn’t even know you had it in you. But now, it was as different as night and day. However, it wasn’t as much as it was before, because you still had to rely on them in order to live. Despite how much you didn’t want to, without them, you’d be dead. They were the ones who had to administer your medicine and give you check-ups so your condition wouldn’t get worse (although it already happened after the segments were deleted.) It was funny how easily progress could be reversed. How one thing, one random day, could change everything.

So eventually you had to let them in a bit. Most of the time you just ignored them and rarely spoke. Even during the checkups and shots, you had your head turned the other way the whole time. They would still attempt to talk to you, in hopes you would even grace them with a “yes” or “no” rather than the rare nod of your head. But it wasn’t very fruitful.

Another habit of yours now was that if you weren’t in your room, you were most likely in a segment’s room crying. Especially Zandy’s. Clutching his plushies. Or maybe Alpha’s. Trying to fix up the parts he left lying on his desk. Or Beta’s. Going into his closet to wear his coat. Dottore knew better than to clean out their rooms because you would most likely snap at him again.

You didn’t have much energy to do anything else but lay in your room, blankly staring at the ceiling all day, your head a foggy, grief-filled mess. It did not feel good… you hated the feeling… but what else should you do…? You just wished you could feel the warmth of your segments… the seemingly annoyed but secretly delighted posture of Alpha as you held him from behind. The bitey nature of Beta that didn’t let you go once you were in his clutches. The small, clingy body of Zandy as he cuddled into your body, sweet dreams blessing him instead of the nightmares. But you could only dream about those things now.

Even the regular Fatui agents had noticed this development. The lovey-dovey nature of Il Dottore’s spouse was now reduced to this. You heard them speak about it.

“Have you noticed? Lord Dottore has been far more irritable lately.”

“Oh yeah, both Omega and Prime! I feel bad for those who have to work directly with them…. At least my job is just standing at this door all day.”

“I know. They always were terrifying, but it seems even worse now. Ugh, and now there’s even more work for us since all the segments are gone.”

“Do you know why? Has Lord Pantalone decreased his budget again?”

“Yeah, it’s kind of obvious…” The agent lowered his voice to a whisper. “His spouse, [Name], has been giving them the silent treatment for ages now. Don’t tell anyone this but, I believe that our great Harbinger, Lord Il Dottore… is feeling the effects of this. I’ve never seen them act like this!”

“Is that so? Speaking of, I don’t think I’ve seen them around here very much.”

“Well yes… if you were here for as long as I have been, you’d normally see them all over the lab but, they tend to stay locked up in their room nowadays. And Lord Dottore as well, he doesn’t leave his office much either. Omega seems to take care of much of the outward responsibilities.”

So that was what it was like. You got your answer to if Dottore missed you. You wondered how many people accidentally became his test subjects due to his rising temper because of you. But though it may not have looked like it, not speaking to your husband was hurting you tremendously as well. Because at the end of the day… he was your love, your life. He was your Zandik, the one who meant everything to you. The one who went through everything and anything with you. He was the only one you had… you still loved him, terribly so. Maybe that was a bigger weakness than your illness.

But that didn’t mean you were any less mad at him.

Omega, on the other hand… ah, you didn’t even know what to think anymore… you were so conflicted, it was so hard to even think… when you said you loved all the segments, that included him too. But he deleted all of them… you hated him… but did you love him too? No, you should continue to hate him, he was the selfish one… Zandy was gone because of him… you couldn’t forgive him! So you didn’t forgive him. The days continued the same as always.

Until one fateful day.

Omega was set to head out on a mission. Which was quite unusual nowadays, because ever since the clones were deleted, he couldn’t afford to leave Snezhnaya with all the work that had to be done. All you had heard was that the blonde-haired traveler would be there too, from all the whispering around the lab.

But what did it matter to you? Whether the segment was here or not, it was the same to you. His whereabouts were surely not of concern to you, so you had no feelings on this. Though the night before he was set to leave, he knocked on your door anyway. You immediately pulled the blankets over your face and curled to the side of the bed so you wouldn’t see Omega. The door shut with a click and his boots sounded against the floor.

“Hello, [Name]. I’m sure you’ve heard by now that I am leaving soon. It is another critical mission for the Fatui, and I suspect the Traveler will be there once again.” He didn’t receive a response from you, which he expected. “But I’m sure this is of no interest to you, anyway.” He guessed right, you thought, you didn’t care. However, even after saying what he had to say, he did not leave. A silence overtook the room as neither of you moved or spoke. But then Omega called your name, with another short silence coming after it before he spoke once more.

“I will not ask for your forgiveness, because I know I will not receive it, nor will I apologize, because I believe I took the right course of action. But…” Omega paused, “I still hold you fondly. I still…” He reached his hand out to your covered body but drew it back before his fingertips could brush you.

“I hope we will be able to talk more once I return.” He seemed to wait a few more seconds, perhaps hoping you would stay something, hoping he could at least see your face before he left, but to no avail. All you heard was the retreating footsteps and the click of your door shutting once more. You pulled the blankets off so you could breathe properly again, as you thought about his words.

What should you do? You didn’t know. The segments had passed quite a while ago, and the pain was still fresh in your heart, but Omega… ugh… perhaps, maybe, just maybe, you could try talking to him once more. Only an attempt. If you didn’t like how it felt, you’d stop. And he wasn’t returning from the mission for a few months, so you had ample time to make your decision anyway.

But Omega never returned.

The next few months flew by quickly, and though Omega had not returned yet, you thought nothing of it. Something must have come up that delayed his return. It’s happened before, it probably happened again. That was until you noticed groups of Fatui huddled together murmuring in the lab. As soon as they saw you, they went back to work and shut up their little gossip quickly, which was very strange. Now you really needed to know what was going on, so you decided to silently eavesdrop on the next pair you found. But you would have never thought of the words you heard next.

Omega had been killed by the Traveler.

Omega was dead.

Omega wasn’t coming back.

You would never see him ever again. The realization made your body weak as you stumbled back, having to cling to the wall for support. He was gone… the tears immediately sprang to your eyes, as you covered your mouth to keep your sobs down. Omega killed the other segments. Maybe a part of you should feel glad. But no, all you felt was red-hot grief and pain, as you crashed into the nearest random room, and cried, and cried, and cried.

If you knew that was the last time you would see him, you wouldn’t have acted like that…

You wonder why things had to turn out like this.

—

“The butterfly never truly recovered from their loss, but as they say, time heals all wounds.”

After Omega died, you didn’t have the energy to be mad anymore. You were just tired. Tired of everything. Everything felt like a chore. Though you saw your husband more often now. Since there were no more segments, and Dottore obviously wouldn’t trust even the best Fatui doctors with you, he was the one who did all the usual medical stuff for you now.

Admittedly, his touch felt nice. It felt good. It felt like exactly what you needed right now. Comfort. So you gave in. When he had finished the usual procedure, as he turned his back on you, you reached out and wouldn’t let go of his hand. Dottore stiffened from the contact - it had been a while since you’d touched him so intimately - but you didn’t let go, and only weakly tugged him closer, which he complied to. You couldn’t bring your eyes to meet his, instead blankly staring at his shoes, but he seemed to get the message anyway. Tentatively, he wrapped his arms around you to gauge your reaction, and when he saw no resistance, he pulled you into his chest and held you. You missed this feeling. You missed Zandik.

And maybe you were scared he would leave you too.

Things continued like that for a while. You’d seek your husband out for his touch. His presence. His voice. Anything that would bring you some peace. Though you still remained mostly silent during these times. You just didn’t know what to say. Sometimes you wondered if he was mad at you. Annoyed. Disappointed. You didn’t want to know though. You were content with the fact that Zandik would hold you in his lap even at the wildest hours of the night.

But now, it had been some time since Omega’s death and even longer since the other segments were erased.

You weren’t quite ready to move on, no, not yet, but it was inevitable. Or perhaps you would never truly move on, instead, they would always be a part of you. You’d always carry them with you. But regardless, you needed to try, at least for Zandy. You think he’d want you to try and smile more often. You were speaking a bit more to your Harbinger friends again, and finding some enjoyment in your hobbies. Not to mention your relationship with Zandik was becoming better again. He had still been there, even when your illness and grief had you at your worst, with no complaints. Even though he had nothing to gain from this relationship. Even though you had become someone different. He had always loved you.

But there was still a rift caused by everything that had happened, that you wanted to fix. Because at the end of the day, in this world, you two only had each other. So you decided to talk to him about it. You had a habit of this, just waltzing into his office without knocking, and came upon Dottore who had a small box in his hand, appearing to gaze at whatever was in it, before he quickly snapped it shut at your sudden arrival. You recognized that box. It was the one where he kept his wedding ring in. So he still had it like that after all these years. You pretended like you didn’t see it as he swiftly put it away.

“[Name].”

“Zandik. Are you busy right now?”

“No.” Both of you knew that was a lie. The Second Harbinger was always busy. You knew for a fact he was stretched thin, especially since he wasted so much time taking care of you along with his Fatui duties, which piled up quickly with no more segments.

“Alright… can we talk?”

“Of course.” Zandik had been especially attentive to your words lately. Perhaps because he missed the times you would talk his ear off.

“I want to make something clear.” Zandik looked at you curiously as you took a deep breath. Many possibilities raced through his head.

“I still love you, Zandik.”

Well, he certainly wasn’t expecting that, and you could tell, even though his expression did not betray his thoughts.

“You already know the reason I’m…” Your voice trailed off, not wanting to say the words aloud, but you continued. “But I… appreciate you for staying by me. For all these centuries, through everything. It’s been a… very long time. And although things are different now, I want us to be… happy again. It might not be immediately but… it’s because I love you, Zandik.” You swallowed, at the end, your voice growing a bit softer. Ah, you hoped that wasn’t too sentimental. Zandik’s expression was blank so you couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

“So yeah, that’s all… I guess.” All of a sudden, the silence that followed made you embarrassed, and you wanted to leave there as quickly as possible. “Okay, I-I’ll let you do your work now.” And then you hastily made your exit and left the Harbinger alone, before he started chuckling to himself. He’d expect nothing less from you, his dear, darling spouse.

Though he wonders if you realize time is irrelevant for him. He’ll wait for you as long as it takes.

—

“One thing about the raven and the butterfly that would never change was that they were wholly intertwined with each other. Their fates were one. So even if they happened to go their separate ways, they would inevitably return to one another again.”

It was actually quite scary how fast time flew. From the time you woke up, to marrying Dottore, to the segments passing, to right now… it felt like a blur. You guess, now that your life span was no longer that of a regular human’s, time was starting to skew a bit for you. Well, you were just excited to spend decades more, even centuries with him.

Throughout all the years that had passed since that day, you found yourself falling more and more in love with Zandik again. You suppose that should be normal for a married couple but, it never ceased to amaze you how one man could make you feel like this.

Something that had become somewhat of a habit for the two of you was dancing. Yes, dancing. It had come up during one of your wedding anniversaries. To be honest, neither of you really did or planned anything special for the day. Perhaps there was a bit more kissing along with other affectionate activities, but you two didn’t look at it as something that big. First, because you didn’t want to waste his already precious time, but also because you knew from the beginning the wedding anniversaries would be countless. So every anniversary was more of something you expected, so it was nothing too big to celebrate, especially as people who lived this long… if that made sense. And Dottore… was Dottore after all. Never one to care much for dates.

But on one anniversary you were reminded of how you two danced during the wedding. Your clumsy steps as Dottore guided you through it all, and you wanted to relive that, so he indulged you. And funnily enough, you were a lot better! Your steps weren’t as unsteady and your body didn’t ache as much. Dottore’s feet didn’t get assaulted by yours too much. Even Dottore was pleasantly surprised. It probably had to do with the fact that although you weren’t cured yet, your health had been up on an upward curve. Of course, never the best but, much better than you first were. You were proud of yourself for making it this far.

So now, when you had time, you found yourself rehearsing your steps with him and your husband twirling you around. Perhaps one day you could reach his level.

You found that there were days that reminded you of the Akademiya. Where you could help him with his notes and research like a real assistant would. Obviously, it still wasn’t the best but it was something, and you could see that Dottore liked it. These days often came with you teasing him with embarrassing memories from the Akademiya.

“I still remember when you got motion sickness from piloting that ruin golem, Zandik.”

“For the last time, I did not get motion sickness, [Name].”

“Mhm, sure. If I didn’t drag you out, you would have-”

“That is enough from you.”

You found that there were more days he would take you out into the Snezhnayan winters (you were bundled up to the max) so you could finally see the snow. You found yourself attending your first balls at the Tsaritsa’s palace, as Dottore was now forced to attend himself rather than his segments. He didn’t want to leave you by yourself in the dreary lab so… you were often his plus one, where you spent the evening poking fun at him with Columbina. (You also were the one who publicly took sweets to-go from the parties for him so he wouldn’t get judged.)

And perhaps your favorite memory was when he took you back to Sumeru - yes, to another country - so you could witness the Akademiya Extravaganza festival. He, of course, had no interest in it, but you being you and loving fun things absolutely did. Many things happened, including meeting the Traveler… but that story was for another day.

All in all, you always knew this but, you found that no matter how many years passed, no matter what Il Dottore has done, no matter the amount of sins and wrongfulness he has committed… you were hopelessly in love with him. From the time he was that perpetually irritated but in love student from the Akademiya to his current self, the Harbinger that was a stark contrast to his former self but still possessed you for himself.

Sure, it was a bit lonely at times compared to before, but all the tender moments throughout the years made you happy to have Zandik in your life. Which is why you foolishly thought these times would last forever.

When Dottore told you he was leaving Snezhnaya, and therefore the lab, and therefore you, it jolted you right up from your sleepy daze on his lap.

“What?!” The word came out as a half yell, half-whisper. “What do you mean you’re leaving Snezhnaya?”

“It means I’m leaving Snezhnaya, dear,” he continued on his paperwork (which never seemed to end) as if this was common knowledge. “The mission needs a Harbinger to oversee it, and the task falls to me this time.”

You were devastated. There were times when Dottore only had to leave the lab for a few days to attend to matters in different parts of Snezhnaya. (You spent the time at Columbina’s mansion because oddly enough, she always seemed to be there… how did she manage to shirk her duties so often?) But this was completely different. He would be so far out of reach, for a long time probably too. Foreign missions always took a while. You remember how long you had to wait for the segments to return from them.

“Okay, then I’ll come with you!”

“No, you’re not,” he immediately shut down your proposition. “Missions are still far too dangerous with your current state. You will stay in Snezhnaya, and wait for me to come back.” You knew when he used that tone, things were final, and you hung your head low, all sleepiness gone at the fact you wouldn’t be seeing him for months. Sure, you would be staying with Bina as usual but, you had a feeling it’d be hard to replace the rush of emotions Dottore gave you on a daily basis.

Dottore noticed your dour expression, which he obviously expected, and sighed, setting down his pen. At this point, it was a sort of routine that he had memorized, comforting you and all. Although comfort would never be something he was adept in, years of doing it had let him become somewhat proficient.

“[Name],” he moved his hand to guide your chin up so you could look at him. You were pouting. “These few months, or even less, depending on how quickly the work gets done, will only be a blink of an eye in the grand scheme of things. I’ll be back before you know it,” he hummed. Although he certainly was not pleased about leaving you by yourself for so long, such was the life of a Fatui Harbinger. It was at times like these he missed his segments. (Did that sound selfish? Well, he was a selfish man when it came to you.)

A drop in eternity, huh? Well, when he puts it like that, then maybe it would be just a bit bearable. And, when you think about it, he’s waited over four hundred years for you, all alone. So this little challenge couldn’t be too hard, right?

“Alright… I’ll wait for you, Zandik.”

“Good,” he chuckled at how easy it was to win you over sometimes and stroked your cheek. “In the meantime, you can work on the recipe you’ve been vehemently hiding from me and show me when I’m back.” You immediately brightened at that.

“Oh yeah! I promise you’re going to like these sweets better than the ones at the bakery!” You proudly declared.

“Oh? Now that’s a high standard you’ve set yourself to, dear. Are you sure you’re going to be able to live up to it?”

“Hmph, don’t underestimate me. My baking skills have improved over the years!”

The banter always made you two feel like regular humans, despite what you two really were.

—

“The days went by peacefully for the lonely butterfly, but soon that feeling was shattered when they learned of a golden comet’s presence near their raven.”

The days in Columbina’s mansion went by rather uneventfully. Surprisingly enough, she wasn’t home as often as usual. It seemed like the Fatui were really stepping up their business now. You’d have to ask Dottore about that. Maybe the day Celestia is defeated was closer than you thought. But today was a day Bina had some time to indulge in cakes and conversation with you. The chit-chat was mundane but brought a sense of comfort until the conversation somehow ended up with Dottore as the topic. Your friend always liked teasing you about him. Everything was lighthearted and sweet until she idly mentioned his mission.

“I wonder how your Doctor is doing on the mission~”

“Well, I’m sure he’ll be fine. He’s Dottore after all.”

“Mhm, that’s right. I do wonder how he plans to deal with the Traveler though.” The mention of the blonde’s name nearly made you drop your teacup.

“W-What?” Your voice cracked as you implored your friend to tell you more. You were now realizing that you neglected to ask Dottore what the mission exactly was, and he did not reveal the contents as well, probably because he knew you’d freak even more if you knew he was most likely going to confront the Traveler. Columbina looked confused.

“Dear, did he not tell you?”

“No! I- ah, he only told me he has a mission in another nation, I guess it slipped my mind to ask him the details!” You now had your hand clutched to your head and another one trying to soothe your now rapidly beating heart. A naive and very stupid part of you thought it wouldn’t have to come to this, but it already did, so quickly too.

Why were you so particularly scared? It was because all you could think of was Omega’s death by the Traveler’s hand, as well as your fellow colleagues. You knew that Dottore was far stronger than any of them but… you were in a panic. All the worst possible scenarios began invading your mind relentlessly.

“[Name], calm down. Dottore is strong. We do not even know if it will end in a battle or not, but regardless of the outcome, he is smart enough to-” Bina attempted to comfort you before you interrupted her and abruptly stood up.

“I need to go.”

“Go? Go to Dottore, dear?”

“Yes. Yes, I need to see him. I need-” Your words were becoming a jumbled mess from the anxiety this piece of news caused. “I need to see him in person if he’s okay.”

“You do not think you should think about this some more? I suspect the Doctor will not be happy if he sees you there, even if it’s you of all people.”

“It doesn’t matter. If I stay here, all I’ll be able to think about is him.” You could already see yourself losing sleep and appetite over this. “But as long as I can see him okay… even if he’s angry, I can deal with it. Anything is better than being over here helpless!” Columbina watched you silently.

“Alright. Be ready in a few days.” You looked at her in surprise.

“Bina? You’re helping me? You’re not going to… stop me?”

“Dear [Name], I will not get in the way of a decision you’ve made for yourself. If this is what you’ve decided, then it is my duty as your friend to assist you as I’ve done in the past. And perhaps this will teach the Doctor a lesson to stop withholding information from you,” the Harbinger sighed.

“…Thank you, Columbina.” You’d have to repay her sometime later.

—

“The raven and the butterfly found themselves reunited again at long last, and would stay together like that forever.”

It was funny you found yourself back here, your home country. It seems like you two were always drawn back here, despite no longer being welcomed. But that didn’t really matter too much, because as soon as the boat you were on pulled into the port, it was clear that today was not a normal day in Sumeru City.

You were too late.

The fight had clearly already begun, probably only recently too, by the chaotic state of Sumeru. Obviously, it’d be out of order if there were two immensely powerful beings in battle with each other. Maybe, if you were just a bit sooner… but you already had your mind set. Although the Fatui agent entrusted with your safety was ready to head back already, his orders to not let you come to any danger, you just tranquilized him. (It was a courtesy device from Dottore in case he wasn’t near.)

And you ran. Was that a good idea considering your illness? Absolutely not, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Was it a good idea to walk into the middle of a battle? Also no, but you couldn’t shake the bad feeling you had this whole time.

Although it was far away, it was easy to spot the place, as for one there were Fatui swarming the area and also regular citizens running in the opposite direction. Though your lungs were absolutely burning, your knees weak and scraped from tripping, tired from bumping into others, illness flaring up even worse from the added stress and exertion, you continued ahead with only one goal. To see your husband.

Throughout your haggard walking, you thought of the future. You thought of how great it would be to see Teyvat change in the next four hundred years just as he did. And this time, Dottore would not have to witness it by himself. He would have you. It would be amazing, just thinking of all the variety of new inventions and such that would be created! You two would surely dissect them and put them back together for fun. You two would do a lot of things, you think, as you finally made it to the door of the grand building the fight was in. It was already rather damaged, but the door managed to remain mostly intact, so you pushed it open.

Just in time to see the Traveler land the final fatal hit to Zandik, his body landing on the floor with a painful thud.

Your worst nightmare had become reality. But… Zandik told you he’d return to you in no time…

Suddenly, all the will you had before was gone in an instant. You didn’t have the energy or focus to call out his name. All you could do was blankly stare at his defeated body while taking some hesitant steps forward, all while mumbling something incoherent under your breath. The Traveler, despite their exhaustion, noticed you and immediately readied their sword again. But, they soon realized that there was no need for that from the exceedingly dull look in your eyes and the way you tripped over yourself again, landing on the floor, reaching out your hand towards the Doctor. You had to make it to him.

You pathetically dragged your body closer to Zandik, every part of it screaming out in part for you to stop. But you didn’t care. You could take it. After all, you knew the pain would soon be over. The Traveler merely watched you, still a bit on edge for what you could do, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care about anything besides Zandik, so you continued inching your body to your husband before you finally reached him. His body was practically motionless, his face revealed as his mask was destroyed to the side somewhere. When you came into view, a flicker of surprise came across his face but it quickly morphed into one of acceptance.

“You’re not supposed to be here.” You half-laughed at that.

“I could say the same to you…” Your voice had dropped to a soft, defeated one. Huffing and panting, you used your last remaining strength to pull yourself up and kneel, tenderly bringing your husband’s head onto your lap. He did not resist. It wasn’t like he had the strength to anyway. “You didn’t tell me you were going to be here, either.”

“It was not necessary… at the time,” Zandik said, looking right at you the whole time with those red eyes of his. “But I suppose I should have expected this. You never do as you are told, do you?”

“Of course not. But you should remember that whenever I break the rules, things turn out fine for us.” You smiled, and you had a feeling both of you were thinking of the same memories. That time you helped him break into the Akademiya’s library when it was closed, or the time you threw a book at someone for him, or the time you two helped each other on what was supposed to be solo assignments. Or the times you ran away from his needles and medicine, or the times you went behind his back and befriended the others. Those times ended out okay, so this time would be okay too.

Then, the building began to rumble, most likely about to collapse. The battle must have been quite fierce. Although the Traveler felt no remorse for the two of you, their kind heart still couldn’t help but feel the slightest twinge of pity. After all, the blonde had read the notes the two of you left scattered around Sumeru. To think that a relationship could last so long, especially one with the mad Doctor… You noticed their expression before you rasped out a mixture of a plea and demand.

“Why are you still here? Leave us now. I want to be alone with him.” Your words were empty of emotion towards them. There was no point in any hostility anymore, not when you had to treasure the last moments with your beloved. The Traveler didn’t seem surprised by your words, as they nodded and threw the bloodied Harbinger one last glance, before running away with the little fairy. It seemed they knew… you’d rather die here along with him than live without him.

You looked back at Zandik’s face, his once brightly colored red eyes now a darkened hue.

“I’ve failed you, [Name].” Since it was the end of the line now, even a genius scholar such as him had to admit defeat. Dottore thought back to all the times he swore to cure you. He swore he would do it so that you could be who you used to be once more. But he failed. He let you lose centuries of your life and left you in pain for your conscious ones. But you didn’t seem to share the sentiment.

“Failed me?” You couldn’t help but laugh at that, despite the tears that began to run down your cheeks. “Oh darling, you have never failed me. Not once in over four hundred years.” Zandik continued to stare at you because that was all the strength he had to do, so you reached for his hand and brought it to your cheek.

“You’ve loved me continuously for so many centuries, haven’t you? How could that ever be a failure?” You nuzzled into his hand, his own blood beginning to smear on your face, but you didn’t care.

“Your love has changed so much over time. From your prickly and thorny yet beautiful love from the Akademiya. To your smooth and unabashed love now. But your love was unfaltering, to me at least. Perhaps I may be delusional, and I overthink how much you love me. But I think it was real, even though you may never admit it, that is what matters to me. So if you’re thinking about the cure, forget it.” Your hands were shaking and struggling to hold his to your cheek for this long, energy spent, but you continued anyway, even as a piece of the infrastructure suddenly caved in and collapsed on the opposite side of the room with a loud crash. “The cure isn’t what mattered. It was you.”

Zandik thinks you are the only person who has forgiven him. Not even he has. He knows he does not deserve it, but he shouldn’t say that to you now. But he thinks, even at this moment, perhaps it may seem sick or morbid, your beauty still manages to surpass that of any other being in Teyvat.

You thought about the Tsaritsa, who had shown you much love and kindness. You hoped she would finally achieve her goals. You thought about the other Harbingers, the ones who were still alive at least. You would miss them. You looked at your wedding ring. It was still intact. How lovely. Lastly, you thought about Zandik as you looked at him, and he seemed to realize something.

“[Name], reach into my pocket.” You were confused but you complied, wincing in pain a bit but successfully reached it and pulled out a box. It was the box he kept his wedding wing in. Popping it open, you were correct, and still couldn’t help but be a bit incredulous.

“You brought it with you?” You were surprised because a part of you still believed he thought the whole thing was a bit dumb.

“I normally do not but, with the length of the mission, I believed it would be a simple and easy way to be reminded of you.” That was cute.

“Sorry. I guess the good luck charm didn’t work,” you smiled apologetically as you slipped the band onto his finger, to which Zandik scoffed.

“You know very well I do not believe in luck.” You only laughed, though it was mostly drowned out by multiple crashes and rocks falling all around you. Being buried was a fitting end, to be honest. No one else needed to know about the two of you. No one else needed to know your stories. It would be best if the two of you ended up forgotten, lost to time. Then, no one would be able to misunderstand or twist your relationship.

Despite all of the pains that had befallen you, the suffering and hardships, you could happily say you lived a good life. You were happy, so happy, thanks to Zandik. Zandik was what made this life worth living… so this was okay. You would have loved to have been cured and lived out many more happy memories with him but… this was alright. But the time was limited, so this conversation needed to be wrapped up in a way that would satisfy you.

“I love you, Zandik.” You don’t expect any response back because of your husband’s poor track record with saying those words.

The times Zandik has said the words ‘I love you’ have admittedly been scarce and in-between despite the centuries he’s spent with you. It was a grand total of… two times. And both had been said when he thought you were sleeping.

The first time had been in the Akademiya. It had been a while since you two were a couple, and he had yet to say it. You expected that obviously. But one random night, when you two were cuddling and drifting off into dreamland, you heard the three words mumbled into the crook of your neck. It took everything in you not to react.

The second time had been when you had recently woken up from your coma. Dottore was around you constantly, taking so many tests that it made your head spin, and you had to take naps more often than not. And once again, as you were just about to slip off into slumber, you heard the three words whispered as he gently bit your ear.

Surprisingly enough, the third time would be now. Perhaps because he had nothing to lose anymore, as it was the end.

“I love you as well, [Name].” Your eyes go wide for a few seconds before you grin widely one last time, and you give him a look that says ‘I know.’ Zandik watched your eyes flutter shut as you leaned down to his face, and he let himself be enveloped in your final kiss, neither of you paying attention to the shadows cast by the multitude of broken architecture about to fall on top of you.

Let the fairy tale come to a close.

—

“In his last moments, the raven was taken back to a memory from centuries ago. It was a memory where he was truly happy with his lovely sparrow.”

Zandik awoke to a blue sky and a gentle breeze. He blinked, immediately trying to gauge where he was. But then the sound of a familiar voice flooded his senses.

“And you know what this professor had the audacity to say to me, Zandik? ‘Figure it out!’ Like, you’re supposed to be helping me, not writing me off! You’re getting paid for this!” You were lying down on the grass next to him, hands folded as you huffed. “At least I have you, Zandik. Way better than any damn professor.” He blinks at you.

Zandik remembers this moment. It was the day when exams and classes were finally over, and you wanted to relax before helping him with his experiments. And you also thought it was the perfect time to rant about all the professors you had to deal with over the last few months. But soon, you just started bringing up random things that occurred over the term. Zandik couldn’t remember the last time he saw you like this. Donning the Akademiya uniform, so happy and carefree… healthy, strong, like nothing in the world bothered you.

He found himself slightly smiling at how stupidly happy you looked, before reaching out to you. But as soon as merely his fingernails came into contact with you, you began to dissolve right in front of his eyes. Immediately, he stiffened and sat up, again trying to take hold of you but you were no longer there. Zandik’s hands began to shake, and that’s when he realized his surroundings were changing.

The blue sky was now fading away, becoming pitch black along with everything else that was chipping away, ready to swallow him whole into the darkness.

Ah, he understood now.

This was the end.

—

“Finally, the twisted raven met his fate.”

Or so he thought. Zandik woke up once more. Everything seemed normal at first, the blue sky was once again there and the Sumerian breeze caressed his hair. Until he realized there was a sticky substance coated all over his hands.

Blood.

This wasn’t an unfamiliar occurrence for him, after all, he would usually get hands-on with his experiments, but he had an… odd feeling about this. Zandik blinked and all of a sudden, there you were lying on the ground in front of him.

Dead. Coated with blood.

Did he… kill you?

All too quickly, before he could reach out to hold your body or begin to process what happened, he was suddenly somewhere else. The desert.

Zandik laid eyes upon you. What he would usually see was you complaining about the heat while you dug through the ruins. What he saw instead was an Eremite plunging a sword through you.

And again. This time he awoke to you being completely cold and limp in his arms. And again. It didn’t take his brain long for him to understand what was happening.

His victims and test subjects could torture him for eternity, yet Dottore would not feel bothered or a shred of remorse. It would be a useless endeavor. But this? This was the perfect punishment.

His beloved being killed in front of him, by the world, by other people, by natural forces, by his own hands. And for all of the power and knowledge he once had, he was powerless to do anything yet again.

… How ironic, Zandik thought.

—

At last, the tiny Archon closed the storybook.

It had been ages since the events in this tale had taken place. The Fatui were no more, Celestia was gone, the Traveler had long left this world, and Teyvat was at peace. So much time, that the Outcast’s name no longer floated around the Akademiya, now long forgotten. The God of Wisdom herself had gained a tremendous amount of knowledge from all the years that had flown by. And even still, she has not forgotten this story.

Yet, in all of her wisdom, she still cannot hope to fully understand the raven and the sparrow. The Dendro Archon found herself coming back to this tale, trying to comprehend their actions and thoughts. She reads it aloud to herself, draws pictures, and crafts the tale with her own words, yet it only leaves her more lost. Perhaps one day she will understand. But perhaps she won’t. Perhaps no one ever will.

After all, there were only two people who would ever truly understand the bond between the raven and the sparrow.

Zandik and [Name].

An unfriendly and cold scholar and a sweet and caring one.

An immoral villain and an accomplice.

A violator of this world’s laws and a supporter.

A Harbinger and an assistant.

Regardless of those titles, perhaps at the end of the day, they only saw themselves as one thing to each other.

Two people who loved each other as if nothing else mattered.

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cirqosmos · 2 years ago

Text

Did I, A Side Character Became the Male Lead's Wife?! : Part 2

2023 | 13+ | ONESHOT | YANG JUNGWON × READER | -> PART 1

SUMMARY the male lead was suppose to fall in love with the female lead, and yet how did he even gain an interest in you?! clenching your fist as determination blazes your orbs as you're now far beyond determined to make him dislike you for once and for all.

WC -> 22.5K *⁠.⁠✧♡・ PLAYLIST -> 💌

🎵...BLUEBEARD

"a lady like you, i'm afraid to say, intrigues me very much..." jungwon shots a kittenish wink right through your heart. "be my wife, milady. i'll show you how good I can be for you."

"b-be your wife?!" your features contorted horrendously, along with immense cringing.

this prince. this fucking prince.. no way did he just ask me to be his wife?! your orbs ogled out as his words chanted within the void of your mind, mocking your very efforts to sway this prince away to his land of fairytale, and to where he rightfully belongs.

screw you?!

"i don't want to dance with you, nor be your wife, or for you to be good for me! get. fucking. lost!"

it's safe to say, that you punched a fist right to his face after him spewing such shitty nonsense. that alone adding an nth time of gasps from everyone in the ballroom.

right now, unfortunately, you were sprinting to the long ass hallway without ever looking back. okay let's say you did look back and fortunately no one or neither the prince were chasing after you.

seriously, what has gone wrong with the male lead?! how in the actual fuck he had taken an interest in you? it seems as if every action you did to push him away only pulls him closer. might as well reset yourself from this world if you can.

whining immensely as you recalled your female lead's precious grin, "liz! what has come to my story?!"

yet to your utter disappointment and shock even, the news of the prince literally proposing to you minus the one punch incident had somehow quickly reached the entire nation, everyone and anyone you could think of has been informed of the incident between you and the prince. confirming it totally as you walked through the market with the female lead.

you’ve come to a final conclusion that the prince must have sealed everyone’s lips that was present at that ball, probably for your sake.

"his royal highness has truly taken a liking towards you, milady." liz pulled up a proud smile which had you cringing. like please don't do that, please don't. you weren't supposed to be smiling like this.

"oh god, kindly refrain from uttering that prince's in front of my face, liz. he's nothing but a—" you immediately stopped yourself from spewing shit about the prince as you don't want to ruin liz's perception on him, which would possibly furthering the already inflicted damage on your original story.

you sigh dejectedly, as your eyes lazily gaze somewhere instead. wanting to take off the stress from your chest for a while.

throwing yourself on your bed after an entire day out with liz, you refuse to attend any noble event since you discarded all the invitation letters with the contents consisting of them congratulating you for being the prince's fiancée which had you cringing to your core.

your deadpan look as you threw all of the letters had the maids bringing the tray of food—mortified to say the least.

how couldn't you? those nobles sending in a bunch of letters obviously had traces of malice and envy engraved in those over exaggerated fonts, they are akin to a predator waiting in patience for you—a little lamb to reveal itself as a free buffet.

buffet? wife? where did my comfy life go? where?!

you've decided to hide in the comfort of your manor till this so-called news of you being the prince's fiancée died out. but how long would it take then? would it take a week? a month? oh god, you're wishing it won't have to take that far as you also need a bunch of fresh air.

groaning again you did as you couldn't possibly hid forever too, as the author of this novel; you are fully aware of how you crafted the prince's character, that despite all of the charms and dazzling traits you moulded into him, you've added one specific thing that had him stood out the most and that was he's beyond possessive and obsessed with the female lead as it was rooted from one of his traits; competitive, dedicated and most of the time, he doesn't like to lose and that he had to get what he wanted or else..

chaos it is, and such chaos coming from the prince himself are not to be underestimated.

you are having such an enormous urge to bang your head on your bed right now as how couldn't you? who doesn't want a male lead to live and die for their lover? of course you and your damn adorable readers!

well, fiction isn't to be confused with reality after all. but damn your life for this is your reality now—here in your own very novel.

screw your novel, screw your life, screw reality, screw the prince! you might just as well fall into your slumber now as you try to plan another way to avoid that very prince you crafted.

"milady? would you like to try the new gown we had customised for you from the town's boutique?"

"what? new gown? since when did i ask for you to customise me one?"

"just.. the head maid had asked for it as another letter had arrived from the royal palace, more specifically, the prince himself had asked for your presence for the upcoming ballroom this week."

"nah uh?!" you emphasised in slight irritation. "don't make me repeat this again, juliet. i'd rather have the cup of chocolate i asked you for just now than attend such pointless event."

"but milady!"

"oh dear heavens, my silky and puffy blankets are to be treasured upon my hands—" burying your head in your pillow as your maid had a defeated expression, pouting slightly. lifting your head almost immediately when your maid left, you muttered endlessly to your void or more specifically to the prince. “inviting me for another ballroom, do you think that i’m stupid? now feel free to dance all by your own!—”

a pair of birds chirped in a melodious, and harmonious tone on the edge of the window.

the sun rays peering through the swaying curtains glints against your fluttering eyelashes, causing your orbs to hid behind the shield of your splayed fingers. stretching your arms upwards, a sense of satisfaction surged through your veins—fueling the corners of your lips to pull up in the widest grin.

it been approximately six days since then, with no news nor an invitation had arrived from the prince himself.

it can’t be that you've successfully overturned your fate by not attending the prince's second invitation, squinting mischievously—he must have lose interest in you for not visiting your manor, doesn't he? with his character, he couldn't have possibly had gone that long! he sure would've been tremendously patient regarding political affairs but never at the female lead!

in chapter 16 of your novel, "blooming romances" where you've written the development of their romance that had your reader's heart evaporating into nothingness as they weep under the comment section over how a single sentence you wrote had made them feel so damn single and why they haven't found a guy like the prince yet:

-> a paragraph from chapter 16 ✧⁠◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠✧

after gaining the heart of lady liz; prince jungwon was beyond ecstatic to have another day out with his lover, however alike the eclipse's separation—royal and political affairs had ripped him away from the comfort of his lover's arms. thus, he had been occupied with so much papers within the palace's quarters.

yet as soon as the grey cloak crawled back over the blue sky, pulling the moon back with it—so does the prince himself, leaving the stacked up papers on his desk and appearing before the lady's quarters after much effort climbing onto the firm tree.

wasting not a single breathe, as the apples of his cheeks serving as a physical form of his infatuation towards the lady—the tips of his tongue mellowed in instinct for her, along with his hand that were accustomed to his sword's handle to enveloped beneath her fingers—pressing a lover's vow on the top of her hand through his faint red lips.

"milady, i fear i no longer have the strength to contain myself from letting out a single breath without your presence." his lips ghosted against his lover's ear, "it had my patience crumbling into nothing when you, milady had reigned over my heart."

— was what the male lead had voiced out rather solemnly to his lover, as he couldn't bear to be stay one more night without her presence.

yet it doesn't seem to be that case in yours! fucking good news, finally!

ah! what a joyous occasion! you plopped on the bed with your gathered strength as you giggled like a child. bliss consumed your entire soul with your surging scream alerting the entire manor.

swaying your pillow in a circular frantic motion as you sprinted towards your hallway, "juliet! liz! i'm the happiest person ever in the world— oh jesus, someone hosts a damn buffet and tell everyone in the manor to join!"

"milady!" your grin only grew wider as the sight of juliet sprinting towards your way greeted your eyes.

"juliet! oh dear, you should—"

"milady!" she panted right after falling on your arms. "the— the—"

"hm? why are you sweating so much? what happened?"

taking a deep humongous breath she did before uttering one sentence that had your head, mind, and soul blasting into the ghost quiet vacuum of space.

"the prince— his royal highness has arrived!"

"what?!" your jaw dropped on the ground with dozens of imaginary gigantic mirrors crashing behind you in a comical way as your expressions darkened into utter horror.

🎵. . .WAKE UP

a chirping bright blue bird with its harmonious song apparently had been crashed by a swerving black velvet bird from the sky, resulting in both of them colliding and falling on top of another on the lush green blades, just a few distance away from where the table you and the prince were at.

"why. are. you—i mean his royal highness doing here again? i'm sure i've made it clear that i simply wanted nothing to do with you, didn't i? prince jungwon?" crossing your arms, holding a firm resolution in your foot before the prince as you two sat down for a tea, in the refreshing garden behind your manor.

there he was in his casual royal attire of white ruffled shirt, dark blue bowtie with tiny gems engraved on it. his lush hair bouncing slightly on top of his eyelashes as he blinked a couple of times, and tiny sparkles within those orbs which made him look like a puppy at times but those feline eye shape stood out even more.

"i assume that you require time to think about this matter, milady." jungwon answered, "that's why i stayed behind, for a while, that is."

huh.

are you hearing this correctly? him, this very prince you crafted with little to no patience for his lover—telling you that he waited and desires to not pressure you? what in the humongous sorcery is this?!

"if you think that's gonna make me feel something, then.." you leisurely caressed your cheek, gazing at him lazily. "that's quite dense of you, your highness."

little dimples emerged from his cheeks as his feline eyes twinkled at you. "that's not the only thing i could do, if you—milady, grant me the honour, then there's plenty things of things about me that you haven't explored yet."

as if! you scoffed in the back of your mind, eyes deadpanning as this guy had no clue that he is nothing but a character you crafted! how could you know nothing about him?! heck, you are the one who wrote him this way!

"you see, your highness." you sighed with a pout, "i'm a very busy person, i do not have such leisure time to explore something that is not centred around my interest."

"oh, does it mean that i perhaps don't interest you then, milady?"

"isn't it obvious by now, your majesty? plus, inviting yourself to my residence is nothing close to good manners. as a prince, manners should've been your priority."

jungwon stayed awfully silent after that, eyes looking down as if he was in a deep thought. your eyebrows knitted together, curious as to what he's trying to pull off next. like just give up already, goddamnit.

"regarding manners, how about we tie a pact then, milady?"

"a p-pact?" you frowned deeply at him.

"yes, milady. a pact that would honour both of us, and our wishes." jungwon continued after taking a sip from his teacup. "i wouldn't be able to sit still without pouring an effort for something i desire, what my heart desires." his feline eyes slowly raised to look at yours. "yet milady doesn't hold the same desire as i do, which is quite unfortunate, that is."

"i seriously have no idea what you find so interesting in me?" you shook your head along with a slight scoff, apparently breaking another bead of sweat, unsure of where this was going—definitely not in the way you've dying for.

"i have yet to know, milady. that's the very reason i had the courage to ask for such a bold request from you."

"and what makes you assume i would agree to that?" you raised your left eyebrow.

"i have yet to resort to such foul actions, which i'd rather not to milady."

your blood surged cold through your veins, "are you threatening me?"

"certainly i do not intend it to sound that way, i prefer to keep this as civil as possible as you—milady, truly does has gained my interest and it would truly be vain if i.. wasn't given the chance to prove my worth to you. all i am asking from you milady, is to give me a chance to prove myself for you."

prove himself..?

shit. you hated to admit it. but those words, the way he chose to string his words akin to woven embroidery that was meticulously sewed to perfection—pierced right through your heart strings, causing your ears to heat up. partly because of how truly sincere he sounds, and partly was.. how the fuck did he made it sound good?! you've never thought of such romantic words even after a hundred cups of coffee in your desk!

"and how would you guarantee the eligibility of this pact? that you won't force me against my will?"

"you have my word, milady. if by any chance, i failed to gain your love—i will gladly retreat. that's my promise to you." jungwon leaned in closer as he placed his chin on his right palm. "however, i'll certainly do my very best in this thirty coming days."

mischievous yet determination blazes within those feline eyes of his, which had you realising just how serious he was at pursuing you.

"fine, i'll give you a chance but as a pact requires rules, i'll share some of my own."

"sure go ahead, milady."

"one, do not call me your wife or specifically future wife in front of everyone."

"may i do it personally then—" jungwon shrugged playfully when you hissed at him.

raising your index finger upwards, "two, stay one meter apart." he obliged with much hesitation, "and three, uh. i haven't think of it yet but i'll surely add a third rule. now how about you, your majesty?"

"yes, milady?"

"don't you have any rules you want to add?"

jungwon emitted a giggle as soon as he processed your words, "oh, i don't think i need one. after all, whatever you may wish, shall i grant."

"then, stop chasing me—"

"except that one." his lips pulled up in a mischievous smirk, the sun places a tender kids on the strands of his hair—dripping honey hues on his cheeks which reflected against his feline orbs. "then shall we start the countdown, milady?"

thirty days, it is; for him to pour his entire efforts to gain your heart, while you greatly adamant in your mission to make him lose interest in you and make him fall in love with your precious female lead, liz!

sighing for the horrendous nth time as you stood before the blinding lights of the chandelier on top of the patterned ceiling, it had you remembering your old trip to a renowned palace in the real world back then, and that it had mesmerised you so much you wish to stay there a bit more.

it was also one of the main inspirations for your novel, after all.

that you kind of wish to be able to stay in such a glorious place, and wear exquisite dress, to attend a tea party and meet your own prince charming.

"i see, that this is the lady our prince had taken an interest for?" a middle aged man along with a young lady appeared before you, clearly trying to get your attention.

but now that you are here, it kind of sucks to be fair.

all of that was a mere desire, it was just a temporary part of you that desires to be in such life, not that you'd really want to be in it as you'd rather stay in your room—indulging yourself in the world of your favourite manhwas, that it had you working on your own very novel. having no matters to attend to except for working on your novel 24/7 was pure bliss, and that you'd rather spent reading all your adorable reader's comments over talking with people way too much in reality.

it was probably a way of the deities to pull you out from your dusty old corner which you definitely and would never appreciate as you gave a deadpan look towards the night sky above the glass panes of the ceiling.

"uh?"

"she truly lives up to the rumour, father." the lady snickered behind her lacy hand fan, her eyes held traces of mockery in it.

"i dare say that his royal highness had quite a special taste.."

you tilted your head at them, sighing as you very well know where this is going. of course why wouldn't you? this was the dialogue you created during a crying session after your favourite manhwa ends on a horrible note. opting to torture your characters in your dusty side novel by using this dialogue on them, and later had a beaming idea to recycle it for the female lead's fateful encounter with the nobles.

"if you'd like to keep your tongue, then i advise you to stick it inside. marquess?" goosebumps raised over the back of your neck when the prince appeared, his feline eyes held irritation in it as he stood beside you. "you had no right to speak to my future wife, don't you?"

"i- ap-pologize, your highness!"

"apologize? they say actions speak louder than words, then would you, dear marquess, cut your atrocious tongue for me then?"

the marquess held the need to tear up as the humongous dark aura the prince emitted caused his knees to turn noodles, trembling pathetically.

they all know, just like you do, obviously cause you write them that way—that this prince had not the slightest mercy once provoked, therefore he was greatly feared and will never cease to be so the more he grew up to be a fine young man, and onto his adulthood.

sneakily getting out of the ball after a few royal officials appeared and the prince had no choice but to entertain them. you took the chance to sniffed in a humongous fresh of air into your burning lungs after spending a torturous hours inside.

with the moonlight rays being your fellow companion as you wandered about the royal garden you encountered, your heels made an audible crack sound which causes something from the distance to rustle, you snapped your head at the source of the noise.

yet none was to be seen except for your presence.

a white silhouette, rather tiny in form sprinted in your peripheral vision and before you can turn your head towards it, it was unfortunately gone. then suddenly, it reappeared and only then you notice what it was as your heart immediately form shape of neon hearts.

you caught sight of the tiny snow bunny hopping along the bushes, your eyes shimmered as you approached as slowly as you can. a snow bunny. how adorable?! you cooed as low as you can to avoid scaring the bunny, and to your utter satisfaction, it hops onto your lap. with the biggest grin on your lips—you patted the bunny, indulging yourself in this form of cuteness.

"milady, you're here?"

the snow creature on your lap flinches and hop out of your lap which causes you to sigh at the prince before you. giving him a deadpan look you were itching to do all this time, and now that he's finally here..

"i'm quite sure one of the rules i stated was that you would refrain from calling me.. your wife? didn't we, your highness?"

"forgive me, milady." jungwon shrugged. "such atrocious acts had to be cut off before it grows, and aside from that, what kind of husband would i be if i couldn't do the bare minimum of protecting my wife?"

the tip of your nose was immediately dusted off with rosy hues. another shitty dialogue that you don't know where it came from, that shoots another cupid's bow to your serene heart once again—gritting your teeth as you pull the imaginary arrow out of your heart before it can grow to something worse.

you sighed at him as you placed your attention on the lush garden around you, getting on your knees as you brushed your finger across the florals. “your highness seems too confident, i fear you’ll be utterly heartbroken later.”

“to pursue something requires risk, it is a risk i am willing to take, milady.” jungwon said. “plus, it is not determined yet that i can’t win your heart.”

“hm, sure your highness. feel free to think so, we’ll see that later.” you rolled your eyes. “make sure not to come back crying later, your highness.” you notice the way jungwon’s lips pulled up in the faintest smile.

your eyes exponentially softened at that sight of him, of course seeing your male lead with your own eyes was once in a lifetime opportunity, to see one of your characters that you created with your entire heart and soul came into life and to utter words with their lips engulfed you with complete bliss. yet your heart moans in fear that this smile shouldn't be for you, it was only for the female lead.

you cannot let it grow more than this.

my precious female lead.. liz. poor her, she's definitely having her well deserved sleep after going about the town, helping people in need and such, therefore you had to get this mission done as quick as possible!

for her to indulge in the romances of love!

clenching your fist in full blown determination, you stood back on your feet—the breeze flowing against your gown as you gaze up the moonlit sky and you've gotta admit that the scattering rays the moonlight bestows upon the silent blooming florals had the image of tranquillity, instantly bringing your heart at ease.

but you would never be at ease as long as the prince had his eyes on you.

you turned your attention back to the prince who had been gazing upon the moon as well. despite the prince's back facing you, you could tell that he was deep in thought, remaining silent for quite awhile.

"but keep your hopes low, your highness." you exclaimed with a mild scoff.

"i do and will keep that in mind, milady." jungwon's lips pulled up in a slight smirk. "however, please do keep it in mind too that I will never give up yet."

taken aback by his sheer determination, you folded your arms— "well, let's see!"

jungwon slightly giggles at you, "alright, milady."

damn, author versus character? what an odd combination of a match. he won't give up? sure bring it on! i knew you better than you do, yang jungwon! a total stare down occurs between you and the prince, with a definite goal at mind.

"may i ask why.. is lady liz here with us too, milady?" dumbfounded the prince was in the presence of the lady, he surely didn't expect that right?!

hah! jokes on you, yang jungwon! you suppressed the need to smirk as the very fact was you sneakily inviting liz without the prince's knowledge which resulted in all of you three seated down for a tea party in this round table; with you in the middle, as you purposely had the prince facing the female lead in the hopes that they could lock eyes and for it to cause immense spark between them!

ah, what a sight! you couldn't help it but fangirl really hard over them, cause how couldn't you?! it's like a matchmaking session and you, obviously the cupid!

"i assume there's nothing to be curious about, as this was the pact, isn't your highness? i could bring whoever i please."

"yes indeed, but.. the pact.." jungwon pauses, then pulls a tiny smile all reserved for you. "never mind it, i had been granted the honour to be invited to the lady's manor, how ungrateful would i be if i couldn't satisfy your wishes, milady." he continues as he turns his fluttering eyes at liz. "lady liz, it's my pleasure to meet you."

"so am i, your highness."

yes! yes! freaking finally, did he turned his damn head over the female lead! you got this, you were beyond sceptical at agreeing with the pact at first but now that you've seen it before your eyes, you could make the prince fall for the female lead whenever it's your turn to invite the prince!

this is truly a blessing in disguise!

make him fall in love with her, bit by bit, till his interest in you slowly divert into the female lead before his eyes. simple it is! just make sure she's always in his line of vision, so that his heart would truly realise who it was beating for this entire time.

oh dear prince, look ahead and see the perfect lady that was meant for you! for if you still refuse to do so, i'll gladly force your damn eyes to look towards her!mission start!

"so, liz." you grin with your chins on top of your interlaced hands. "i heard you're planning to hold a feast banquet for the people in the town, i forgot but perhaps it would be held a week later?" your eyes darted over the prince to examine his reaction, yet his eyes lingered over anywhere but liz, seemingly not paying attention.

your eyes twitches in disbelief. damnit, give me some reaction, will you? liz, our precious is helping the goddamn country. your goddamn corrupted country!

"what do you say, your highness?" you asked with raised eyebrows.

"that's certainly virtuous of you, lady liz." jungwon smiled as he took a sip from his teacup, his eyebrows furrowing for a moment. "the royal nobles couldn't be compared with you, honestly."

"thank you, your highness. you're flattering me way too much."

"no, i say what needs to be said. unlike you, the nobles are greedy and selfish, often catering to their own personal needs. it tends to irritate me that i couldn't do anything yet with my current status."

"that's certainly unfortunate, however i'm sure your majesty could overturn the tables soon." liz sympathised. "what's important for us to do right now is to help more people in need."

"a nation definitely would need a reigning queen like you, lady liz."

liz covered her mouth with her handkerchief, "once again, you're flattering me, your highness. i do not think i'm capable of such a crown."

"yet your humility and kindness surpassed all, i may say. it is certainly the qualities of a queen."

"it is always my pleasure to help people in need.. but if fate persists, then i would gladly take the chance."

jungwon emitted a slight giggle, a tender smile forming in his lips. "that's fascinating of you, lady liz. is there anything you had an interest for other than helping people?"

"hm, i adore looking after birds, they're my precious friends that tend to help me more than i could count, your highness. and at times, i practise the art of embroidery.."

jungwon's eyes beamed at that particular word and it didn't go unnoticed by your eyes forming countless neon heart shapes as you watched them converse with each other, heart quenching in top fangirling mode as if they were truly a match made for each other!

aaah, my favourite couple!

an enchanting frame of them conversing with each other should be immediately turn into them slipping in wedding rings into each other’s finger! what a lovely sight indeed!

"how about you, lady (name)? is there anything you in particular liked about?"

"uh-?" your fangirling mode switches off when both of their attention are now on you.

"i'm curious about you, milady." jungwon tilted his head at you, curiosity glazed across his feline orbs as he leaned back on the chair in a leisurely manner.

you could freaking imagine the long ass arrow of his concentration fixating on you. freak, i thought you were already falling in love with liz!

you held the need to snort, and you actually missed how liz blushed over the prince's gesture towards you, secretly fangirling inside her rampant heart.

"w-what is there else to know about me?" you held the need to cringe.

"like stuff you're interested in?" jungwon added.

"oh the lady loves to—"

"hush, liz!"

the green blades swayed along the soft breeze as the scorching sun grew a tad bit hotter today yet the over-the-top umbrella you had with you—protected you from the rays at least, but you couldn't care any less as you were beyond giddy, as right now you brought the two with you to the bridge behind the manor.

adding a humongous speed on your feet, leaving the two slightly far behind you for obvious reasons.

now, now.. shall we start the plan?

a mischievous, meticulous plan you've crafted since last night, sacrificing your beauty rest for this long awaited encounter of your precious main couple. moving on to the second step of your plan.

of course, being a writer means you could imagine a dozen more ideas of how to develop romance between two characters—easy peasy. spending an unhealthy amount of time into perfecting your craft, you didn't waste your 20/20 vision to have learnt nothing, obviously.

"ah, isn't the heat a bit irritating today?" wiping off the bead of sweat down your jaw, in a slightly exaggerated manner.

"perhaps, it would be best if we return to the manor, milady." liz spoke, concern engulfed her expression.

"hm, you're probably right." sneakily taking a few glances towards the prince standing behind liz, you fake a few coughs.

forgive me, liz, my precious baby! i had to do this to make that damn prince realise his love for you, plus the lake ain't deep for god's sake..

yes, the goddamn lake. you even had to ask the maids over how deep was this lake just for safety measures, certainly you need your female lead to stay alive for your plan (and novel) to work.

and why the lake, you might wonder? oh jesus, just how many dramas had the damn water scene appearing regardless of any form; lake, river, swimming pool, waterfall, you name it—where the female lead crash into, only for the male lead to come and save her for the day?

the exquisite proximity and skin brushing against skin, those pair of orbs gazing into the universe of each other's soul as they stuttered along the line—traces of infatuation fleeting into the empty air, the heavy scent of romances blooming with prolonged gaze—eventually sealing their amour with a deep, passionate kiss.

ah, chef's kiss! massimo paborito, mwah!

upon your mere hesitation, you sneakily bumped against liz; a surging scream emitted from her lips as she fell into the lake, water splashing against your dress in the process.

"lady liz!" you pushed yourself at the edge of the bridge, feigning shock—to be fair, you would've been annoyed by the soaking spots on your dress but your main priority right now is the prince beside you!

"your highness!" it seems as if he didn't need a word from you to dive in through the lake, but oh well, that had you immensely proud at his quick reflex. now have your skin brush against each other, and look deep into each other's eyes! your eyes widened mischievously as liz's face was buried in the prince's neck.

yes! yes! now gaze deep into his eyes and thank him for saving you! seriously you're currently suppressing your rattling feet from taking small giddy jumps over the sight before you; the prince's arms wrapped around the female lead's waist—while her arms around his shoulder, their nose brushed against each other when she lifted her head.

that alone had you turning your back around, cupping your mouth as you squealed in utter fangirling mode.

shit! holy shit! is this what it feels like to see them right before your eyes?! oh dear, oh dear, just get married will you?! you truly felt like a proud parent right now.

now what is it, let me take one more look! ah!— a fat ass bee buzzes out of nowhere, at your face even. your blood run cold at this stinging monster flying around you. seriously?!

your feet stumbles backwards as you kept smashing your umbrella at this hard-headed bee yet it buzzes even louder, dodging every each of your lame attacks. to your utter shock, your entire world turns downwards as your feet stumbles backwards causing you trip over the bridge.

a humongous splash shoots up the air and against the pair at your pathetic fall.

sunken seaweeds tangled round your wrists as you fell deeper, the water rushing into your lungs and nose had your mouth burbling bubbles before you. your eyebrows furrowed as someone familiar had dove back in, swimming towards you.

why is he even bothering? go back to liz, you idiot!

his fingers found it way around your hips, however you pushed yourself up—swaying your hands upwards, causing the prince to follow suit.

"goddamnit, i can swim." instantly mumbling to yourself as soon as the air greeted your nose, rolling your eyes as you slapped the prince's arms, "i didn't take swimming lessons at the ripe age of seventeen for this shit. by the way, where's liz? why did you leave her!" you mumbled repeatedly as you pushed yourself out of the lake, groaning with your soaking heavy dress.

"milady! you were about to drown!"

"bitch—oh god, your highness be for real." you huffed, "i just said i can swim."

"how was i supposed to know, milady?"

all in all, you all ended up soaking in the scorching lake. what a perfect day for swimming, huh? anyways, why did he even leave the female lead? she can't swim for god's sake!

"lady (name)!" liz had seated herself on the grass, utterly drenched yet still you could differentiate it from the tears streaming down her face as she pushed herself up, sprinting towards you, crying over how worried she was for your life.

rubbing her back you did as you comforted her, telling her that all is fine. except it wasn't fine for you that your fucking plan failed because of your careless damn feet.

you flinched slightly when you caught his eyes never leaving your form and more even at how drenched he was, beads of water dripping down his chin, and his royal attire soaking wet along with his once fluffy lush hair dripping immensely.

the maids had given towels and another pair of dresses for now, but you're actually wondering about the prince as this manor surely didn't had an attire for a male, moreover a prince. since you've written the background history of this manor that the duke who had owned it had passed away before his daughter was born, and so since then, only females had lived in these quarters over the past 40 years.

you heard a few knocks on your door, the maid's head slipping in through the edge. "milady?"

"hm?" you didn't bother to pay a glance as you wiped off the excess soaking of your hair, still in your spiral of dilemma over what happened an hour ago. your stupid mistake of your damn foot conspiring to trip into the damn lake in a rare opportunity!

"his royal highness was asking for your presence, milady."

"and what is his royal highness trying to conspire right here, huh? i am not his personal assistant to dress him up." you snorted, "what is this, barbie and ken? barbie girl in a barbie world?"

it's fantastic? this is nothing close to fantastic at all! you were so damn close to having them crashing their lips against each other!

"goddamnit why is this song kept repeating in my mind!" you whined to yourself.

the maid who had been patiently waiting for you to finish your emo session, spoke once again. "but milady, his royal highness had been having troubles since an hour ago. he had only requested for you and no one else."

"oh god, fine!" you smashed your soaked towel on the table, huffing as you went on your way to the guest room. stomping your feet ever so loudly as you pause before the double door, "your highness, may i ask what in the world are going on for you to request for my presence?"

"come in, please."

you didn't think much as you pushed the door open, yet your lungs bursted into flames when his toned chest and down your eyes went to his bunny pack of buns greeting your lazy orbs which had by far rattled into chaos as of now.

he's freaking half naked?! your mind chanted it like an unlimited internet quota. shirtless he was with that pestering smirk on his face as if he did this on purpose. yeah, this bitch definitely did it on purpose.

"milady?" jungwon smirked, "why don't you welcome yourself in? after all, this is your manor."

"no need." you coughed with your fist.

"just come in, please?"

"stop it! this is basic decency, why would you— ah—!" you held the need to breath as he slammed both his hands on either side of your head.

his breath brushing over your cheeks like feathers, "i don't think such terms like 'decency' are needed between us. after all, milady.. you're my future wife."

"w-what are you doing?! liz is right here—"

jungwon frowned, "why is mentioning her important to us?"

"w-well then!" you horrendously blinked a couple of times as you reasoned with him, "t-the pact! this is a blatant violation!"

"i haven't even done anything yet, milady?" he leaned in closer, seductive tone enveloping his voice. "so worked up for nothing, but that's cute. it satisfies me that only i could have such a great effect for you to have this expression, milady."

you couldn't contain the suppressed hiccup inside your lungs anymore as it eventually emitted right through his face, which had you immediately covering your mouth in utter shock. yet relief consumed you somehow when the smirk on his lips dissipated, however concern adorned his feline orbs.

but just as embarrassment left your soul, another emotion surged through your throat when his hand found its way to your cheek, his thumb stroking your cheek in circular motion as his concerned orbs were wholly fixated on it. "milady, can't you just get rid of the lake behind the manor?"

"w-why do you ask?"

"are you serious, milady? the incident awhile ago would certainly grow worse once left unattended."

"you're overreacting, prince jungwon." finally gathering courage as you pushed him away with your palms against his bare chest, gasping like a dying fish with your hands on your chest when you finally got your needed oxygen.

"i'm certainly not overreacting, i don't know what could've happened if i wasn't around if ever something.. endangered your life, milady."

"your highness, i am not as weak as you think of me."

"perhaps i've look down on you a little, milady. my apologies." your breath hitched down your throat when he immediately took your hands to pressed a tender kiss on top of it. "forgive me, milady."

your ears heated up when your eyes fell on his bare torso, realising that he still doesn't have anything on. dripping hair, beads of water down his chest causes your head to combust. pulling your hands away you did as you exclaimed.

"there's no need to apologise!" stomping out of the room, "seriously wear something!"

🎵…DESTINY IS NOTHING

today was the third time you were in the palace, and the prince's second turn in this pact where he had been guiding you around, everywhere but his room since you blatantly ignored his request with a firm resolution after that embarrassing incident you put yourself in a week ago.

jungwon spoke about his interests and stuff which you obviously knew very well, not really bothering to say anything in order to let him know that you weren't interested at all. opting to let him down as many times as it needed for him to fall out of love with you.

yet he just won't fucking give up.

cuisine, art, languages, swordsmanship, you name it; you've made this prince to be almost perfect at all aspects that was needed for him to inherit the throne. not that you've never written about his brothers, or any other princes in the kingdom, but a prominent part of his history throughout his childhood was that he was an illegitimate child of the king, yet he was immensely capable in adapting quick and efficient.

he pushed all through the trials and obstacles with his wits and immense manipulation tactics, overthrowing his opponents and those who dare to target his head were immediately thrown towards the sharp edge of the guillotine as soon as he spotted them within his line of sight.

jungwon was deadly and far more cunning than you could ever think. mercy was never part of his dictionary as a large part of his childhood grew under a knight whose heart was ice cold like freezing winter, therefore he inherited such traits and honed it to his advantage.

yet that ice cold heart instantly melted when his eyes fell on the female lead, his one and only lover. the rest was merely a history, sweet sugary romance that had been utterly messed up due to your existence in this novel.

you truly did never expect such a nonsensical turn of events to happen.

this prince could try anything he can to win your heart with his tactics, but jokes on him—it was you who crafted this very characteristic of him. therefore you, the writer of this very novel—has the upper hand and advantage more than he does.

but this freaking prince just had to fall asleep in the comfort of his arms before you as you two were seated down at the table for another cup of tea, that is. his lush bangs hanging just above his eyelashes, the tip of his nose dusted with cherry hues as he had been rubbing it off awhile ago when you were both in the palace's garden, his lips pouting made him appear to be an innocent child.

scoffing as you rolled your eyes, is he seriously that comfortable with you? this guy with horrendous trust issues even with his own personal knights? frowning, you leaned in a bit closer, inspecting his features.

i get it that you're cute, i mean all props and kudos to me for creating this goddamn hot face of yours but seriously i had matters to settle, and that is resting in my own quarters with my legs sprawled! not in this damn puffy dress that had me sweating for the past few hours!

—and definitely not all while riding a damn horse!

yes fucking indeed, prince freaking jungwon had arranged a horse riding session in the evening after taking a freaking nap, how utterly horrendous this situation is as you found yourself before a pair of horses emitting their very friendly nose according to the prince which doesn't sound the very least friendly to you.

and you might wonder why this situation was nothing but a pure form of nightmare to you? you unfortunately didn't have any experience in horse riding, and that’s no problem at all, actually! considering your well known reputation as a manhwa avid reader on her own flower bed.

the thing is, your dumbass had written this character you were currently in to be a complete master in horse riding and had actually won multiple national championships since she was at the early age of 10 years old!

oh god, dear god, could you just let me flee into dust at this moment? why the heck didn’t you add fantasy powers in your novel? could’ve actually brought you an advantage by smacking the prince to the female lead’s arms instead of this nonsense.

this was a pure nightmare in the physical frame of the prince having a lovey dovey moment with his horse, you cringe at the thought of him offering you for a ride and your back pressed against his chest all while passing through the field—as if this was a sort of la la land of fairytale.

screw this. you definitely don’t wanna have a lovey dovey moment with him. if you could, you would’ve invited liz! there would be no damn problem! but the thing is, he had the upper hand this week!

this bitch is really using every single damn hour without a waste, huh? what should you do?! tell him you are sick or that you kind of have a weak body now? hell nah, you had just stupidly challenged him that day by punching him right in the face, showcasing your not so sick body, unfortunately.

and most important of all, why the heck did he choose horse riding as part of the weekly pact? how did he even think of this? to bond using the method of interests? bullshit. you voiced such a question to him with your eyebrows raising minus the cussing part, as you can't help your expression.

"milady appears to have a taste for adventure and a hint of rebellious judging how you ended up punching me that day.." jungwon tilted his head playfully. "so it naturally came to me to do horse riding, and it just so happens that i heard that you, milady, had an exquisite talent for it. it must be destiny, isn't?"

screw your so-called destiny!

"that doesn't appear to be a compliment, at all. your highness." you emphasised the addressment. “and for your information, i am currently not in the mood to ride a horse. so, your highness. could we just do something else?.”

"hm, but today i wish to show the meadow which was deep in the woods, milady." jungwon sighed as he pouted, “it wouldn’t be fair for the agreement we had, aren’t we? and if you wish not to ride, then you could always ride with me, you know?” a smirk formed within the corners of his lips as he turned his attention towards his horse.

huh.

i fucking knew it! this bitch of a prince is pulling a hidden agenda of initiating close contact with you through this, that thought alone had you fuming in utter rage, clenching your fist as you can’t refuse such an offer.

everywhere you look, there seems to be no escape from this bloody hell of a lovesick prince! inhaling a very deep breath into your nose as you lifted your eyes at the prince who was currently giving a nice goodie boy pat to his jet black horse, giving him a total deadpan look.

“your highness, i really am not in the mood especially when it’s not my own horse-” you gestured towards the other white horse in which it emitted a total annoyance of ‘neigh’ in response, “and i definitely do not want to risk my life again the way i and lady liz did back in the manor.”

“that’s why i was asking for you to get rid of the lake, milady.” jungwon said. “and i could request for your personal horse-”

“don’t you ever touch my lake!” you huffed in which he raises his hands up immediately, sighing in defeat. “and no, quit it. let my horse rest!”

“well then, milady. your wish is my command..” jungwon emitted a tsk all while pushing himself up on top of the horse with so much ease by placing his foot on the saddle, wrapping both his hands at the handle as he ushered the horse to move closer to you. he lets out a breath of satisfaction as he lowered his right hips and extended his right arm for you much to your deadpan look. “however today is my turn, come and have a ride with me, milady.”

right, you really had no choice!

biting your lip as there was no other way to escape this situation despite your best efforts, you’ll just slam the reality to his face then. “fine, don’t you dare regret it.”

“hm~” he hummed in utter delightment as he pulled you up easily, since you wore this annoying puffy dress; you didn’t face the front, rather your shoulders were pressed against the prince’s chest which apparently worsened the situation as you could see his dangerously close face in this way.

god forbid you punch this prince to death.

"riding a horse is utterly boring now, i might say." you mumbled.

if you actually had applied for horse riding lessons along with swimming lessons, you could’ve and definitely ride a horse all by your own, and even imagining to an extent of ushering all the way out from the palace.

yet all you did in your life was curl yourself in your comfy heavenly gaming chair—that you had to withstand this dangerously close proximity with his breath causing tingles behind your neck. you could sense his chest, his heart beating too loud for your sake, and his lush hair brushing against your ear.

"may i ask why so, milady?"

"it's the very fact that i couldn't ride a horse on my own after some little accident i had back then. you see, your highness."

"ah, so it was that?" his voice made you nervous for no reason, you flinched slightly when he leaned closer, whispering in an almost feathery atmospheric tone. "then it would be my pleasure to give you some personal riding lessons to polish your skills again, milady."

your cheeks heated up at the supposedly double meaning, yet is that even possible?! gulping down your throat, and coughing in attempts to calm yourself down. "never mind it, honestly."

"as you wish, milady." you swore you could sense his mischievous grin behind, you broke a cold sweat at the growing and brave advances this prince is making.

is there really no way to get rid of his so-called interest in you?

“oh, i see your highness and lady (name) are having a pretty little date?” your eyes ogled out at the familiar luminous puppy vibes approaching from the distance, blonde fluffy hair bouncing every couple of seconds as a ‘neigh’ emitted from the horses. “this sight appears to be lovely, i have to say.”

it's definitely not lovely at all, the fuck are you saying?!

you suppressed the greatest desire to roll your eyes at the blonde-haired prince along with the two knights accompanying him.

“prince jake, i wonder what could be the reason to the knights behind you?”

“ouch.” feigning shock by clutching his chest, jake pouted in return. “no hey, how are you’s, or at least how's life? brother?”

right, the history between these two brothers is not the brightest as it seems, as they were birthed from two different mothers; one being the queen, and the latter of nothing more than a worthless prostitute. that rooted history alone had the gap between them growing farther and larger, adding the fact that jungwon managed to soar to the pinnacle in such a short time had not only jake’s position in the kingdom in a thin ice, but also other princes.

the rest was history though, as right now jungwon obviously had the power over each and one of them. the highest in status amongst his half brothers and sisters—the crown prince.

so these seemingly playful words emitting from the other prince don't have the slightest traces of sincerity, rather that of mockery.

“lady (name)?”

you replied almost immediately, “yes, your highness?”

“do look after my precious younger brother, will you? i certainly couldn’t bear once he—”

blah, blah, blah—worthless lies one after another, only nodding your head with the sweetest smile you could afford on your lips in order to appease the prince. right, what’s the point of having such golden vibes if he had such a despicable tongue? it’s such a waste of good looks, to be honest.

well, it was you who wrote him that way though.

conversing with the golden prince lasted for quite awhile much to your inner groaning, and incredibly elated you were when he finally left with his knights—excusing himself for some military affairs, that is. but jokes on him, you knew what was he in for, yet that couldn’t be any of your priority as this prince who had his feline features contorted into bitterness will handle him later according to the original route of the story.

but of course, the original route is pretty nonexistent if he never falls in love with the female lead! ugh! and what’s up with this ugly bitter look on his face? i didn’t spend all of the hours that was meant for my sleep to craft your pretty damn face!

“milady, i’ll only repeat this once.” his feline eyes darkened as it looked into your soul, “do not ever stay even one inch closer to prince jake, he’s not what you think he is.”

gulping down your throat as you broke a cold sweat, this look he was giving you was the very expression you described on him when he felt that he was being challenged or worse, getting on his nerves.

“plus, i do not like it a single bit of how you, milady gave him a smile.”

well yeah, screw it. you gave him another deadpan look, punching his chest with your clenched fist, causing him to yelp in pain.

tap, tap, tap.

you were sure you look like a freaking duck right now as you squinted so hard at the shop before you as it was your turn in this week once again, you had been researching about this particular shop where you could try on dresses and go about the town without paying first. therefore proceeding with your plans as always, you had invited liz again much to jungwon's hidden inner groaning.

silently weeping to himself as to how he could get on with plans in winning your heart, too, if a third party is always presented and a girl, even. if it was a man, not even an ounce of hesitation will he claim you before their eyes. yet he had just to eat his own words by going along with your wishes as now he had a kitty ears on with a cape that was a tad bit colourful for him, only lowering his head down in attempts to conceal his face from the crowd as it was freaking broad daylight.

that’s right, you had chose to cosplay with the two in hopes for them to find each other adorable, at least. yet much to their deep knitted eyebrows over what that word means, you had to think of a petty lie to utter before them.

and that was brushing it off as a rare word you encountered in a goodie oldie book that they could never lay their hands on, (obviously your novel) proceeding to drag them around the town with so much ease without them protesting to match the kitty ears on you as well. you gestured all around like a child with your eyes twinkling immensely at every single object, and rushing into the crowd despite their protests.

and behold, this was your very plan! sneakily getting rid of yourself and leaving them two alone together in the crowd, dumbfounded over your existence, shape, or form-nowhere to be found, this was one in a millionth chance to have them together all by themselves!

rushing out of the crowd from the back, your eyes sparkles in luminous brightness as you observed their frantic form everywhere looking for you. with the widest grin ever on your face and a humongous sparkle on your eyes, you exclaimed within your mind:

enjoy your date, my precious!

watching them from the distance as you took a sip from your orange juice, you squealed so hard as they began to converse with each other and the sight of liz giggling as she covered her mouth, the prince must have been saying something towards her right?!

"w-what? w-what did you say?!"

"yes, milady.."

coughing immensely as you choked on your chocolate drink after your maid, juliet — broke out the news with a pout in her face and her back drooping that the prince wouldn't be able to come today as he had important matters to attend to, however she added that she overheard from the maids that the prince had visited lady liz's manor, and everyone was cooing and swooning over the perfect sugary image of them giggling together.

really? really?! did your plan work out? unbelievably joyous your soul was as it soar into peak euphoria, thanking the deities as you didn't have to go that far anymore! truly, the female lead's charms are irresistible even to the prince, himself! unbeatable indeed, that he could no longer ignore the one and truly one for him.

juliet added that another type of rumours had been escalating over the entire royal court, and it was crystal clear to you how it was causing everyone from peasants to nobles to bet on who was going to hit the jackpot; the status of the crown princess.

"was it any of the three ladies closest to the prince's circle?" was the question lingering like a super duper glue from everyone's tongue.

some wondered that it could be princess violet who had just arrived from the neighbouring kingdom. she had been prince jungwon's supposedly fiancée ever since he was crowned as the prince, the keyword here is 'supposedly' since she was initially thought to be engaged with the prince, yet till now it was never officialised nor an official banquet had been held along those years. however, her arrival after so many years causes rumours to arise that a royal marriage was probably around the corner soon.

while others say that it might not be princess violet, and it was actually noble lady liz from the house of felix; walls are akin to eyes, ears and mouth—and so it soon reaches everyone's peace of mind that she could be a rival to the princess.

yet others also had their mind fixated on another noble lady, you. some of them however, had no guts to say out loud to vote for you—since one, your brazen attitude in the ballroom that day causes a hazardous chaos to everyone's mind, and two—rumours say that even when the prince had initially visited your manor for a couple of weeks, his interest soon dissipates upon lady liz's arrival.

kicking your feet in the air as you stretched your arms with utter satisfaction, you were surely placing your entire bet not on the former, but on the latter. you had never heard of princess violet, sure you had written a princess in your novel but that character was only a minor role. so it kind of bugged you over who is this princess violet?

well yeah, screw it. what is there to worry about when the prince had been pouring his utmost attention to his one and only female lead?

supporting your head with your arms as you gaze upon the silent sunset above the horizon—somehow, someway, it kind of gives you a solemn mood? shouldn't you be happy right now?

weird.

the glowing blush of the moonlight had the clouds dissipating in a rush, showcasing it's rays towards the glasshouse from where you are right now, the scent of fresh lush garden and the sweetened blossoming flora had your mind in a total serenity, yet it doesn't last any longer as a particular someone had made his appearance today.

"hm? what are you hiding behind you?"

you raised your eyebrow as you tried to take a sneaky peek on his left, yet he dodges it efficiently. it has nearly been a week since the prince had last visited you, yet he just had to break the streak by appearing before you today. at night even! you were appalled at first, frightened even that he might do something yet an afterthought struck you that he must definitely end the pact today!

giddy you are, as you spun around with your arms interlaced behind your back. a paper it must be? a paper with an official agreement to end his pact with you!

his feline eyes looking down the ground as his cheeks profusely steamed in rosy hues, obvious to you that this prince surely is being shy for reasons you couldn't think of.

huh.

"if your highnesss think i would keep forcing you then scrap the idea." you hummed as you turned around. seriously the prince surely doesn't think that you would insist right? you've watched too many dramas for this shit, the result of it obviously falling on each other's arms.

"milady?"

with a low sigh, you turn your head towards his way. wondering what could he be saying again, yet something naturally pulls your disinterested orbs onto it.

in his hand, in the grip of his long fingers; a book appeared.

but not just any normal or average book—by the looks of it, even when your eyes fell on it for the first time—you immediately noticed that the book on his hands was a handmade one with a vintage hardcover. your lips hang slightly apart and for some reason, your heart actually mellowed before your brain could process the fact. "i made this for you."

this is dumb, seriously it can't be? this prince is certified dumb but you were even dumber as you took it in your hands, inspecting every corner of it with your tender orbs.

"y-you made this?.. for me?"

"yes, i know it's rather simple—"

"n-no," shaking your head slightly as you unconsciously let out a breathless awkward giggle. "but when did you make this?"

"the first time i was invited to your manor, milady. i didn't mean to peek into your room—"

"what?"

"b-but i swear! i didn't read the papers scattered on the floor of your room, i held myself."

relief engulfed your soul, yet why are you even relying on his words? he could be lying, that it's right? he could be lying. but why can't you rip your orbs away from this simple object?

"yet seeing how your interest was centred along papers, and the ink plate on the farthest side... i thought that you must've liked to write, milady. so, i thought that i could make a handmade book for you."

a couple beats of silence.

"don't you like it?.."

"you didn't have to go that far, seriously—" you reasoned with him, yet your eyes never leave the object on your palms. unable to process this very fact, you don't wanna admit that it does something to your heart.

"no, but i have to." he interrupted, "and this is simply what a lover would—" pausing he did after he recalled your initial distaste over that particular word, letting out the last words from his lips rather low in volume as if he was shy to let you hear it clearly. "what a man would do for the woman he loves."

your stomach grew butterflies at his words.

"you could write anything you wanted in it, pour out everything you felt, your troubles, anything.."

and if i'm lucky enough to be a part of the pages.. i surely would treasure it, milady. those words rang akin to windchimes in jungwon's head as he observed you with utmost intent.

your fingers traced over the engraved leafy patterns on the cover, you suppressed a giggle at the obvious amateur brown threads that woven the entire pages together—sure it appears to be messy at hell, yet you seem to adore this proof of wholly effort. no you absolutely adore it.

it reminded you of that time when you had poured out your inner feelings in a journal for the first time, because you weren't able to let yourself out completely for everyone. it was before you ever had the hobby of reading manhwas, and or even being a writer.

it was the only way you ever had that time.

raising your glued eyes on the book at the prince, "thank you," his shy feline eyes bubbled into bubbly bobas at your gesture, "your highness."

jungwon looks away, avoiding those eyes that he had grown smitten for. brushing his fingers on his lips in the process as he gulped down his throat. "ah, right. i still have another present for you."

"god, it ain't my birthday today though? what's with all this presents—"

jungwon smiled as he turned his head towards the entrance, "bring it in."

the knights stepped in through the entrance, yet the sight of the white tiny creature on their arms caught your interest, and the fact that this frame of the knight's buff form and the creature in his arms seems to be a rather comical, eccentric but comforting sight.

your mouth hangs apart slightly when you finally notice the familiarity of the white creature—it was the snow bunny from the royal ball that night.

jungwon took the bunny in his arms as he approached you, "i have to say it's quite an effort to catch this little bunny, yet milady is—" he pauses with a slight grin, opting not to finish his sentence. "here, from today onwards, this bunny is yours, milady."

"how did you.."

"i have quite a keen observation, milady."

"stalker." you playfully spat out despite knowing this ability of his, in which the prince giggled in return.

your orbs endlessly waver at the lively snow creature on your arms, it's round form making itself comfy and nice which had you giggling at how utterly adorable it was.

🎵...AQUARIUS

suddenly the bunny wiggles in your arms and decides to hop on your face which had your butt hitting the grass in a loud thud, you yelp in pain much to the prince's displeasure. but you brush it off with a smile on your face, opting to lay your head on the grass bed instead as you picked up the snow bunny, lifting it up with your pair of arms.

the dim blue-ish setting of this place blending with doses of lavender hues and the fleeting fragrance of the flowers enveloped your form as the night breeze grew its volume in serenity.

like an image of a violet evergarden.

the prince had seated himself on the bed of the grass as well, not too close to make you feel uncomfortable yet not too far to be able to observe the way your features contorted into silent euphoria, just at an appropriate distance.

jungwon places his chin on his palms, tilting his head sideways with his orbs fixated on yours, watching you in silence as you play with the bunny in your arms, and at the handmade book laid beside you.

you didn't notice this awhile ago but now you did, realising the prince who had seated himself on the bed of grass. "y-you're still here.. i didn't notice."

"of course, but isn't that nice?" a tiny crease emerged from the corners of his cheeks, showcasing his dimples, "that means milady is happy."

your cheeks along with your heart grew warm at his words, placing a chaste kiss on the bunny's forehead as a way to hide away your stuttering. "r-right, thank you for all of this."

a low tone giggle from him sent tingles towards your ears, threatening to push in the cupid's bow a few more centimetres deep into your heart.

in this heaven-like, dimly lit glass greenhouse with the glitters star glazed monochrome sky behind the glass panes on the ceiling serving as your cinematic view, with your silk hair spreading beneath the lush grass bed and your bare skin feeling the sensation of the tender blades, the blossoming violets surrounding you and the prince sitting at the distance had every cells inside you to mellow in comfort.

the moonlight rays shimmering against the glass panes formed a twinkling light, and an imaginary silk fabric of soft beige and black velvet flowed in utter grace above the round patterned ceiling.

you held your breath.

this utterly whimsical and fairytale mood like what you often imagined in your novels, you had never imagine to be able to experience such vivid details with the tips of your fingers, reminding you of that time when you thumbed through the dictionary, studying each root and meaning of a specific word, with a blazing desire to be able to convey your story in utmost descriptive senses to your readers.

ah, this is beyond what you can imagine.

it sort of felt like the lush muted grass bed beneath your bare skin had pulled its borders open, transporting you into another dimension, into another world where it defies gravity and the laws of physics as your soul wasn't held by anything concrete nor anything spiritual.

the snow bunny before you had fallen to its slumber as you laid it on your tummy, purring in a tender melody.

floating and floating amidst the pit patter of the star it was as the weight of the crashing reality from where you used to be, every thought dissipates as your desire to merge yourself within this enchanting dimension grew

you'd imagine the fleeting dust orbs floating above your line of vision were the embodiment of glowing fairies dusting their magical powders on you, that could be the reason for this enchanting serenity.

yet your eyes unconsciously took a glance towards the prince sitting from the distance, you were relieved when he had his eyes shut tight for a moment as if to feel the soft breeze against his face.

a thump. it was supposed to be brief yet with the way his lush hair resembles the swaying motion of the violets had your orbs lingering for a bit more. the hems of his long black coat spreaded out behind him, and his crimson shirt paired with the regency bowtie around his neck which was adorned with ruby rhinestones.

it was as if he was the garden itself.

a shooting star emerges upon the glazed starry night sky, falling across the reflection of your orbs, having you engulfed in amazement at the sight. "a shooting star."

"oh, a shooting star, the old saying goes was to make a wish before it and your wish shall be granted.." with his chin still on his palms, he tapped his cheeks playfully. "i wonder what would be milady's wish then?"

a wish?

no doubt, your wish was for the male lead to return to his original character and story, to the female lead—his lover. so that you won't have to be troubled with all this nonsense, and another wish you had is to definitely return to the real world. there's no doubt as well that you were beyond happy to be able to immerse yourself in the world you created, yet you wish to return home; home where your comfy bed was, kitchen that you often were excited for once you're done with work, your desk with countless papers of poetries you wrote and your glowing laptop with thousands of either unfinished works or complete ones residing in that one folder.

the joy of reading the long ass paragraphs your readers wrote for you once you posted the next chapter, some of them having you teared up due to how expressive and hilarious they were, all of it brought little yet significant bliss into your seemingly normal days.

but.. you had another tiny wish emerging from within, forming a rather solemn sound of windchimes to your heart.

"my wish?" raising your splayed fingers over your eyes, inspecting each unique star twinkling above the splattered paint of glitters. "i would like to be real to myself."

yes, to be real to yourself and to say nothing but truth to the tip of your tongue before everyone. to be a writer, they say, is to be a very sad child, that you have to pour all your sadness to your characters, crafting obstacles for them to fight against, and let them withstand it bit by bit till they grow to be a stronger person than they used to be.

yet to be a writer in your words would also mean to be both a liar and a truthful person, for all the words you convey to your readers were lies crafted in utter perfection and a thousand hours worth of learning—and were also truth stemming from inside you, your very own obstacles where you feel nothing but being fake.

doubting yourself of whatever you say was a daily chore to you in your original life, yet you couldn't stop it no matter how you wanted to. you felt enormous guilt before the people you called your friends, despite putting your best efforts in caring for them, you still felt like you were being fake.

yet in this novel, you poured everything with truth upon a thousand perfected lies. you cared for your characters, to think of them as humans rather than mere descriptions or profile, crafted dialogues you knew would be from them, and such.

therefore, it was in this world where you knew you weren't being fake. it was the world that was a part of you, a world you felt the most realest without punching your hands against your chest.

maybe that's why you also wished to stay a bit more in this fairytale-like world.

"what's yours, your highness?"

the dim lit glass panes glinted against jungwon's orbs as he raised his head to look upon the night sky, "my wish.. is to be a bit more sincere in the things i do."

a few beats of silence.

"—being a crown prince has its fair share of troubles too, lifting a veil of deception before everyone is utterly exhausting. to do everything for the sake of earning something is exhausting."

being manipulative is exhausting, jungwon thought to himself. he'd rather not add that one particular word for your ears to hear, as he definitely wishes not to ruin the mood.

"but aren't you doing all of these to earn my love?"

"that might be the case, milady." jungwon pauses yet again, "but what i'm doing right now is showing my love for you, to let you know that you had made me do something without asking anything in return. i do not yet know if i am completely being sincere right now, since.. the sight in front of me is pretty nice.. that i desire for it to be a little longer, you know?"

you knew what he meant by his wishes, and that was the very reason why he should have fallen in love with the female lead. they were the remedy to each other’s pain, they were the answer to each other’s prayers, they were made for each other just like you intended it to be. it should have been her at this moment, with him.

yet why is it that you can’t help the way your heart grows exponentially warm at his words? avoiding his steady eye contact and his tiny dimples by covering your eyes with your once splayed fingers. "hm.."

it's safe to say that your maids and the prince's knights standing outside the glasshouse immediately cupped their mouths really hard after overhearing the prince's words, some of them squealing and the other smacking each other in attempts to stay as silent as possible.

it had grown silent after that, yet it for sure left a lingering rosy hues on your face and his.

jungwon felt like everything in this space was oddly moving in a slow cinematic motion, with the sight of you laying there with the sleeping bunny on your tummy, your sparkling eyes against the night sky, your hair and your white dress sprawled over the grass bed like dripping honey petals.

his icy cold heart; he felt as if it skipped a thump with every single breath you took, every time your eyelashes fluttered with every blink, the way your toes wiggled as you counted every single star above the universe.

this magical border where it only had you and him, was akin to the drawn images of the fairytale book he read as a child. this scene, this image, this scenery; you stood out the most.

it was as if you were the flower in this garden.

little did you know, that the so called dates he had with liz was after all his request for personal embroidery lessons. liz, herself had been awfully fangirling over you two for the past few days, giving amateur yet adorable advice that he should be away for a couple of days, to give you an air of mysteriousness and wonder over his whereabouts.

"i had to express my thanks to you, lady liz — for helping me."

liz giggled, "all are well, your highness. it appears to me that your highness' present to the lady had been a success, i assume?"

jungwon blushes at the thought of your tomato face.

"lady (name), she's a bit odd sometimes, however she's a kind person! therefore, your highness shall treat her well."

"of course, lady liz." replied jungwon as he remembered the days when he squinted hard, poking the needle towards the handkerchief. yet he eventually gives up on it, opting for another present as he couldn't possibly give you such a horrendous looking present. cussing at himself that even by being the so-called perfect prince, he is unable to be good at some things.

cringing to himself, he pondered immensely. ah, he recalled that you had a particular interest over something his eyes had fallen upon a while ago.

papers, books, inks, poetry.

he deduced that you had the probably an interest on such a particular thing, proceeding with his secret plans in acquiring new books that you perhaps would have an interest in. yet he pauses with a distant thought that you might have read a thousand books more than he did (which you actually did), and discards the idea immediately, wondering how and what kind of present he should get in order to align with your particular interest.

it should be made with pure effort, yet it should also be deemed useful for it to be on your palms everyday it could. jungwon wishes to avoid extravagant presents such as jewellery or dresses as you had expressed dislike over them by the reason "it was too hot and itchy" — plus, you as a noble lady would surely have a wardrobe filled with dozens of such stuff.

therefore, after much thought, he settled with one thing; a handmade book.

jungwon couldn't suppressed his grin as he went back to the palace, or all over the way to his quarters without being seen by the maids doing their respective chores, nobles leisurely wandering about or conversing with their peers, and royal officials that had just passed by from their usual royal meeting.

they wondered what could be the reason for the prince's sweet grin? they would never know as they have never seen beneath the prince’s crafted facade. they would never know how that facade of his crumbled the day his feline orbs softened at your curled form in the midst of the hallway.

jungwon’s intention in approaching you that day was nothing more but to bring a couple more scent of fragrance to his name, as part of his meticulously crafted plans. even when you came to accidentally compliment him that day, it was only a slight waver to his ice cold heart. yet he finds you fascinating in how you carried yourself around him.

at second meeting, he knew you were hiding something to the point you were getting rid of him— yet didn’t bother to dig in as his instincts rendered you to be harmless, and that the thing you could be hiding would be to your own best personal interest. he ain’t no fool, growing up all by his own while encountering all sorts of people had sharpened his mind and polished his skills to the finest. yet he found it interesting to bubble up those panic expressions on your face.

during those days where he chose to wait for you to appear again had him quite of missing those expressions on your features that he decided to enter your residence which marks the third time you met each other. that day, when you made it clear that you do not have any interest in him, it's not that he felt like he was being challenged like he used to—it's just that there was something he couldn't fathom.

that's the very reason he made the thirty day pact, to see how far it will go till he loses this mere interest in you.

yet seeing you was yet another wish that kept burbling up in his heart one after another despite thinking to himself that this will be the last time, and at last he finally found himself wishing to see you one more time, every time he could, as long as he can.

you were definitely not the first lady that had shown lack of interest in him, neither you were the first one he had ever first fallen in love with, nor the first one to had him crumble into this way.

but you are definitely the last one he’ll ever pursue.

your eyes flutter open with the blossom of the sun kissing your hair strands and reflecting it's honey hues within your orbs. a wholly sensation of peace engulfed your heart as you seated yourself up, your eyes falling on the curled form of the white bunny, and at the handmade book beneath it.

"why didn't you woke me up?"

"his highness had spent the entire night watching over you, milady. he left by sunrise."

"oh.. he didn't say anything after that?"

"unfortunately no, milady."

you shrugged, scratching the back of your neck as you stood on your feet. pouting slightly as to how the prince didn't left any message for you before leaving, you sighed a bit.

but hold up? why are you sighing?

your previous thoughts dawned on you a couple of seconds later as you cupped your mouth with your hands, and your ogled eyes threatened to pop out. what is this nonsense?!

🎵…THEIR OWN WORLD

so much about the grinning stuff, here your face and lips were horrendously affected by this grin that never ceases to exist since that day.

seriously? it's just a simple book with empty pages and an obvious amateur embroidery that had threads sticking out front and back, yet as much as simple as you claimed it to be, your actions says otherwise as you had placed it amongst your personal bookshelf where your favourite books were, or the fact that your feet couldn't stop bringing yourself to where it was and for your hand to pull it out for the nth time.

to carefully inspect every little detail of this hand made carved cover, recalling the prince's words that he had poured his utmost effort in creating such a simple yet.. heartwarming gift. it kind of bugged you that accepting this gift probably meant accepting his advances towards you?

no way, that can't be it.

but the fact that you recalled how your heart mellowed in a swift speed when he placed the handmade book on your palms, and how you were sure that your smile that time was pure sincerity could have meant that.. you were falling for him?

nah uh! impossible as fuck! just give this back to him, yes indeed, that's the only plausible way to get rid of these ominous thoughts in your head. you can't be falling for the male lead, the very fictional character you created for your precious female lead.

yet your feet pause on its tracks almost as immediately it started, gripping the book in your fingers—-having a second thought of it.

tick tock, tick tock.

pure irritation engulfed your lungs in a pang as your eyes had been lingering on the entrance for a long, long time. to your utter surprise, the prince had not visited for a week, not even a single day as whole seven days without any sign of his presence. he had missed your turn in the pact, you had initially thought to spend this time with him without liz.

with the lingering desire to ask him something, but when you confront yourself before the mirror's reflection of yourself. what is there even to ask about?! to discuss the book with him? that could be it, right? not that you wanted him all to yourself, right?

right..?

was he busy? was he occupied with the royal affairs? or perhaps someone had caught his eyes now that he's spending his time with them? you are dead serious about giving this book back to him, so your heart would already be at ease, yet why?

you hated to admit it but, you were longing for his presence as you flipped through the empty pages of the book he made, for you. you haven't written anything on the first page as you desire for the words to be something of importance rather than mere doodles.

"—for you."

for you, huh? this prince is horribly romantic for his own good, isn't he?

"bunny." you poke the little creature's nose that had been scratching it's head on the table before you, "your prince, do you know where is he?"

of course, the bunny could only stare at you with it's boba eyes, obviously not capable of understanding your words. yet this bunny got to be the biggest culprit of them all as those boba eyes just had to remind you of him.

resting your chin on your palms as you let out a sigh for the nth time, having the attention of the maids doing their respective chores on you—pouting slightly as they, too—were waiting for the prince's presence.

"milady?"

"hm?"

"do you perhaps.. miss his highness?"

your chin slipped over your palms as it burst into beads of sweat real quick, eyes ogling at the girl before you. "juliet?! seriously? go make me a cup of chocolate!"

"y-yes milady!" the girl disappeared into atoms as soon as she could. you facepalmed yourself as why did you even name her 'juliet' if you couldn't add her romeo at the beginning of the character's introduction, oh god. now she's pestering you with words you'd rather not hear, this girl had been spilling a dozen more words that had stuck to your mind like a super glue.

"i wonder how the prince is doing, though—" smacking your mouth immediately as it sank in your mind over what you just asked, groaning as you went back to your quarter.

you'd rather die than to visit the palace, seeing all the double faced people residing there would only cost your peace of mind and you'd rather not punch another skeleton to ashes again. you'd rather indulge yourself in the comfort of your fluffy heavenly bed than trouble yourself over the prince, right?

right..?

"well screw myself!" standing before the entrance of the palace had you thinking just what is wrong with you, have you gone insane?

probably.

"lady (name)?" a familiar voice had you turning towards that someone, the widest big grin adorned the corner of your lips as you approached her and giddily interlaced your hands with hers.

"liz!"

great! now you will totally have a plausible excuse when you meet the prince, you’d rather die than have him knowing that you came all the way here from your manor just to see his damn freaking face, or that you actually kind of miss him.

"oh, i didn't expect to meet the lady (name) on such a day?" a seductive and mature voice causes your neck to tingle, and definitely not in a good way. "i wonder what could be the lady (name)'s purpose to visit the palace?"

no shit, the princess who you've been quite curious about has finally appeared before your eyes and somehow after looking at her up and down, it irks you that she gives another villain vibes to your keen eyes and you're definitely not in the mood for it. the fact that she knew your existence, your name, and the way she laid out the question had you confirming that she had heard the rumours, and that she didn't receive it very well, didn't she?

you curtsy before her, bowing your head slightly before fixing your posture again. "greetings, princess violet, i was just intending to bring my fellow companion to visit around the royal palace."

"greetings, princess violet." liz curtsied gracefully, that alone had you grinning immensely proud over how her sparkling charms had more of an effect than the not-so-good vibes this princess was emitting before you.

"very well then, i had brought my fellow companions as well, noble ladies that is." stroking her silk lacy gloves she did as she gestured over the ladies behind her, "we're having a tea party in the evening, perhaps would you like to come?"

sounds like an invitation, to be fair, but those who had sharp eyes could see through her malicious plans—rejecting the princess' invitation regardless of what, is deemed as tasteless and atrocious to the palace despite not intending to do so.

there was rumours flying around that one word slipping from her tongue is capable of snapping people's heads into separate dripping flesh, and that could be the reason to her infamous reputation.

huh, that's definitely the reason why the royal family wasn't giddy enough to arrange an official engagement despite all those years, only holding onto the rope as long as they can if by any chance they had no one to depend on.

royal affairs is just that complicated, huh? but oh well, a cup of tea might do wonders to your dampen mood—might as well indulge yourself in such an exquisite tea party all while seeing just how this noble princess would go far.

"it would be my honour, princess."

the tea party is to say the least quite civil for you despite your initial expectations that the princess could turn out to be a total bully, the ladies and liz converse together with numerous topics just like the nobles would, one of the topics being of the princes of this kingdom. one of them squealed over the red-haired prince with the name sunoo that had caught dozens of heart as he waved his hand against the ladies, or the other one that truly live up to his status; icy piercing eyes and a beauty mark on his nose, a total prince charming vibes with the name sunghoon.

"lady (name), so it was you..?"

you paused your inner monologues, "what.. do you actually mean, princess violet?"

"nothing, i had the desire to see what type of a lady the prince had taken an interest in."

or maybe not, you were truly right after all—now would you look at that? this rookie princess is finally getting on with her plans and apparently proceeding with one of the oldest techniques called "putting you down on your place" which had been scattered all over the dramas regardless of era, often effective as it struck hard right to a character's dignity.

"you see, that his highness might have just gone bored, that he had to find a new toy for a short period, that is."

you let the bitch ramble on and on, letting her satisfy her high ego and pride cause you've seen enough, watched enough, heard enough, even had written enough for you to be affected with such basic insults.

but oh dear god, you desired to smash her face on the table yet resisted as your precious female lead is here, you couldn't possibly let her witness such a horrible sight, right?

yet for some reason you can't help the way your eye twitches and the slight pang in your heart at her words despite knowing that she's just another minor character in this very world you created.

"his highness, i fear, would lose his mere affection for you in no time."

"princess violet! i dare say that is not very wise of you to say." liz frowned deeply, shaking her head as she did so.

"it's fine, liz." you rubbed her hands in which her features softened immediately. ah, your precious sweetheart. isn't she just that kind hearted?

you took a couple of sips from your teacup, indulging yourself in the delightment of it. you wondered who could be the talented one that had created such exquisite taste?

"lady (name)!"

"oh?"

"are you listening or what?" visible veins popping on the side of her neck, obviously irritated by your leisure manner.

your lips hang apart, giggling in a low tone as your eyes crinkled in mischievous crescents. "oh princess, i wasn't aware. perhaps you could repeat it again?"

yes bitch, exhaust your despicable tongue.

"oh dear heavens, i was kind enough to invited you to my tea party, and you have not at least basic manners before me?"

basic manners? oh look who's talking! you held the need to spew insults at the bitch for you seriously had more important matters to settle, "then would it be to your own likening if i excuse myself out, princess?"

she scoffed at you, rolling her eyes as she uttered another thing. "oh please, don't tell me you're wishing to meet the prince? do you think i'm an idiot for not realising your plans?"

"what would make you assume that, princess?"

"just saying, even if his highness truly likes you. sorry to say, you would be nothing but a mere mistress. and i—"

your ears literally shuts its ability to hear anything from her any further, sighing dejectedly before your disinterested lazy eyes caught sight of someone behind the entrance. your eyebrows raised along with your lips, a sense of slight bliss surged through your soul as you recognised who it was.

"y-your highness..?" you mentally wanna slap yourself for sounding too excited, "why don't you welcome yourself over here?"

"oh, my apologies." the sight of jungwon in his glowing princely attire approached from the distance had your heart skipping not one beat but two, which had you looking away instantly, your eyes fell on the ladies behind you had their jaws dropping behind the hand fans in their tight grasp.

"oh my, your highness!" they exclaimed, obviously elated by his sudden and unexpected arrival. your eyebrow twitched at their cringy and over the top whiny voice in attempts to get the prince’s heart.

pausing on his tracks, a few metres away from the table and you. he pulled the familiar smile that held innocence in it, quite double-faced if you ask me. these ladies had no idea just how the prince really is beneath that facade. you thought as you side eyed lady violet.

yeah..

recalling those sets of memories puffed with soft pink mist of his fluttering eyelashes looking down as he stretched out his palms with the book on top of it---the way his boba eyes of innocence blended with utter sincerity, and the way he was obviously nervous by how he lapped his tongue on his lower lip.

how you utterly miss those expression, for a reason you couldn't comprehend. it's not like you had grown closer with him, so why there's a sense of warmth enveloping the silent heart behind the cage of your ribs? and with it, a sense of irritation arose within.

it won't hurt.. to teach her a bit, right?

"princess violet." you called out.

"y-yes?" she raised her eyebrow suspiciously at you.

"you were wondering why i don't have basic manners, but have you ever asked yourself if you ever had one?" you took a few steps closer to the prince before you.

"lady (name), what are you trying to imply?"

"hm," you hummed playfully, raising your fingers up to the prince before wrapping your hand around his neck. "what i was trying to imply is, spewing such nonsense before a lady about her man is certainly lacking manners."

"huh?!"

"might as well show you since you couldn't understand." you turned your attention back to jungwon, whose feline eyes were also laced with utter confusion which quickly turned into a full bloom boba when you pulled his long bowtie closer to you—crashing your lips against his.

—inaudible words along with sudden gasps arose and the eyes of the noble ladies, the princess, including the female lead ogling out tremendously hard.

"l-lady (name)?!"

"a-ah~" you lapped your lips on your plump lips before the full blown orbs of the ladies, "now, now.. this prince right here you've been addressing as 'your highness'.. is my man. kindly practise a couple of basic manners, would you, ladies? unless you would be content being his majesty's side mistress?"

jungwon's cheeks flushed into a hot mess, akin to a profusely steaming bun. his boba eyes relentlessly blinked as he tried to process what had happened just now, feeling the previous sensation on his lips before looking back at you again.

"oh my, your highness?" feigning a playful shock, "perhaps you would like to have princess violet as your wife instead?" placing your index finger on your lower lip as you pouted before the prince.

jungwon's feline orbs twinkled, regaining his well composed manner as his fingers tapped your hips—pulling you closer to his chest much to another series of squealing from the female lead, and screw loosening in the princess' jaw.

"i wouldn't dare, milady. didn't i say i would be good for you?" the sun rays kissing his soft lush hair as his eyelashes fluttered, pressing a soft kiss on top of your hand. "if milady desires, i shall announce to the people that you're my woman just as i am your man."

now it was surely your turn to blushed profusely, looking away from his lovesick gaze. what's up with him with these romantic words?!

the female lead, had by far, turned into a full blown embarrassment as well. actually turning into a diehard fangirl at this point, "m-milady?"

oh shit— what the fuck?! what in the actual shit is this?!

how could you even forget that your precious baby is right here the entire time?! kissing the male lead in front of the female lead? you've truly gone insane!

"i-i! i'm going ahead, your highness. if you'd like to follow then please do so." your feet scattered through the paths as you motioned liz to follow suit.

jungwon nodded with visible rosy hues on his cheeks, but immediately paused on his tracks, turning his head over his shoulder. "ah, princess violet?"

"y-yes your highness?" the princess immediately stood up on her feet, gulping down her throat.

"you see.. if you weren't a lady, i wouldn't have let you earn the consequences of spewing nonsense to my wife."

the princess' orbs widened in utter horror, stuttering pathetically. "n-no! y-your highness! this isn't how it looks like p-please listen—"

"next time, if you dare as much as to provoke her one more time, i assure you being a lady or a princess would no longer be enough to keep your tongue intact." with icy eyes seething with blood, the prince then went on—leaving the princess to fall on her knees, eyes darting immensely.

"lady liz, could you let me have the lady to myself for a moment?"

his voice had you immediately pausing on your tracks with your mind still clouded over your actions awhile ago, heart beating rampantly as you turned to face the prince but you keep your head down as you didn't have the courage to look at him.

liz who was still greatly affected with the obvious tomato hues on her cheeks, looks towards you with eyes asking if it's okay, in which you nodded.

the girl hastily excused herself as she cupped her cheeks, and her feet threatened to stumble at the edge of the entrance much to your deadpanning look and sighing over how clumsy she was.

you finally gathered the courage to look into his eyes yet his face alone had you constantly recalling what you did with him. the heavy crushing weight of kissing him before the ladies, and calling him your man. how cute, huh?

an excruciating silence formed between you and him, your eyes darting all around the space but him, while your hands formed beads of sweat as you waited for him to speak first.

"so.. milady? how have you been?" jungwon locks eyes with yours, the way he looks to your soul felt as if he wanted to caress you with his arms at any moment, what is this? “and i have to say i’m surprised that you’ve came all the way to visit me, was.. it for me though, milady..?”

"oh, i’ve been doing absolutely well! h-how have you been too, your highness?" stuttering pathetically, you wish the gods would launch their gigantic mega hand against your face. and it struck you utterly late when you realised his question at the end. “and.. bold of you to assume that way, your highness.”

"right..” he hangs his head low. “however i’m very pleased to hear that you’re doing well, milady. but i'm not.. okay." he raises his feline eyes that was now engulfed with traces of sadness. "i have to apologize for messing up our pact."

"there's no need, your highness. the royal affairs are your duties as the crown prince. what am i, a simple lady has the right to earn any apology from his highness who simply did what he had to do?"

"what you said was true, but certainly do not call yourself as 'simple'. you're just any other lady, you're my future wife." jungwon took a few step closer, "(name)."

silence lingers in the long empty hallway with no one but you and him.

"i have to own it up to you, milady. it is my fault for missing one week of our pact." he looks down, clearly disappointed. “will you give me the chance, lady (name)?”

your lips hang apart, thinking twice as your eyes darted into any other direction other than the prince before you. “how is your highness going to own it up to me, though?”

jungwon’s features lit up like a glowing sunrise, “tomorrow, a fireworks festival will be held at the town. i’ve been planning to bring you—milady for a day out as a way to redeem myself.”

a day out, fireworks festival at the town. you can’t help but be excited for such simple words yet alike magic—it brought the scent of liveliness all the way to you—hugging your form in an oddly comforting way.

"and milady, can we not bring lady liz with us this time?"

"oh, your highness. i have neither agreed nor said anything yet?"

jungwon blushes awkwardly, uneasiness consumed his rampant heart as he didn’t want to screw this over and definitely didn’t want to risk you getting upset or anything, "lady (name), i truly desire to be alone with you for atleast a day."

that surely had you taken aback, clenching your fist in attempts to soothe your heart skipping a thousand beats. you look down, avoiding his ever so passionate gaze. "i- u-uhm, sure? i guess?"

giddily putting on a casual attire, apparently not the first time nor the first hour with the evidence of the scattered dresses on your bed serving as pure mockery to your face at how you’ve been putting too much effort for a simple fireworks festival.

a simple festival, that is.

yet your feet spinning around for you to sway your supposedly casual dark brown dress with a corset hugging your torso seems to not likely be the case.

leaves rustling from behind the window a tad bit loud for you, causes you to flinched as you snap your head with ogled eyes to the source of the noise. unsure if it was a paranormal phenomenon or whether it was the damn wind trying to shake you off.

being the scaredy cat you are, you just couldn't afford to add a horror element in your novel so what the fuck is this ominous bell playing in the background?!

you almost let out a scream after seeing a black silhouette landing right before your rattling orbs, your brain instantly activating fight and flight mode—opting to take your mountain of a dress and throw it at the intruder.

yet your rattled orbs dissipates as it fell on the familiar lush hair and his feline orbs. instantly fell on his attire—which greatly differs from his usual royal attires. you remembered that you drew this particular fit of him when he brought the female lead to the town for a picnic.

"why are you here?!"

"i thought we're going out for the festival, milady?"

"no— what i mean is why did your highness climb through the tree and not visit the manor in a normal, civil way through the entrance?!" you patted your chest in attempts to soothe your cold heart.

jungwon scratches the back of his neck as he avoided your blazing orbs, "since it would be our first time to go out together, i would like it to be only us. no one but us—"

your orbs softened immediately.

"yet the knights would then accompany us as for protection, which would be irritating so i left the palace secretly. and here i am, milady." jungwon said. "i apologise for scaring you, it wasn't my intention."

"u-uh," you horrendously couldn't think of a proper answer, "it's okay, your highness. i just didn't expect it."

jungwon finally pulled up his usual smile, his feline orbs then looks all the way down from your hair till your feet which had you engulfed in embarrassment. "you look gorgeous, milady. i assume you dress up for me?"

"bold of you to assume it." you scoffed in return in which he smirked, knowing very well it meant the opposite.

"then milady," he lifted himself up on the edge of the balcony, extending his arms and laying out his palms for you. you held your breath with the breathtaking sight of him; his fluffy hair flowing along the night sky breeze, twinkling kitten orbs with his lips forming a slight smirk. "let's go?"

you gaze at his extended palms before you, slipping your hands on it as he takes you closer to his chest, wrapping his strong arm around your waist for stronger protection—his touch alone had you looking down abashedly—guiding the both of you down the ground from the rustling tree. landing ever so effortlessly just like the so-called cat he was, you flinched instantly when his lips ghosted against your ears. goosebumps rising on the back of your neck when that happens.

"are you okay, milady?" his other hand is still wrapped around your hips, tight as it can and yet as gentle as it can be.

"uh- i, i'm okay." you pushed yourself away from him, standing a metre apart. "remember one metre apart."

"right."

"lead the way, then! the festival—"

the blasting noise of the town enveloped your ears the more you drew closer, and you looked down after taking a swift glance at the prince lit up smile, what’s up with him falling so much for you? was it really love at first sight? you’d rather that to not be the case, to be honest, you’ve always loathe that trope which serves as a proof in your entire writing career with you avoiding it through and through.

love at first sight; such sight only lasts for a while, its only purpose is to please our eyes and such. nothing more and nothing less. that's all beautiful things are for, isn’t? it gives you false hope, false dreams, false imagination of what things could have been like.

love at first sight; just like its name, alike the blooming florals in the night sky, falling in love can be deceptive, luring you in for such a short-lasting moment that will eventually leave you in this hollow void of velvet night sky for a long long time, with the consequences of it punching a humongous void in your soul, reaching your hand out for that bursting light one more time.

"your highness, could you stop calling me, milady, milady, for now, will you? just call me by my name." you sighed enormously after having your ears blasted with his never ending ‘milady’, it sort of felt to you that he was somehow enamoured in addressing you that way.

jungwon’s boba eyes wavers, dimples emerging from his puffy cheek. "as you wish, milady. however i wish for you to stop addressing me as ‘your highness’ then."

“a—alright, what would you like for me to call you then...?” you exclaimed a tad bit joyful than usual which had jungwon smiling ever so happily.

"jungwon." he shots a playful wink, causing your already hazardous heart to weaken even further. "(name), is it? pretty name for a pretty lady."

you looked away, "we're in public."

"wow, i didn't expect that you would be embarrassed after the spectacular scene you did during the ball back then, (name)?" purposely emphasising your last name, you glared at him.

"well, that was your fault! when a lady asks for you to let go, then you shall do it."

"but then, us right now—wouldn't happen at all, right?"

you didn't expect you would agree with him, but you obviously weren't going to show it. simply shrugging at his playfulness like a child.

"also that kiss was nice."

taken aback, "you—"

"young sir, would you like to buy a single violet for your lover?" your eyes fell upon an old lady in a weary persimmon cardigan and a beige dress reaching down below her knee, and at the baskets filled camellias dangling on her right arm.

taken aback by that chosen word, your cheeks flushed as you stuttered, unbelievably horrid after realising your own reaction. "h-he is not my—"

the old lady's eyes widened, "oh, my apologies!"

"of course," jungwon pulls not one but the entire camellias into one bouquet, smiling as took a few sniff. "i wonder how much a bouquet would be for my wife?"

"your wife?!” you exclaimed with your features contorted into disbelief after he had paid for the whole damn bouquet, “as far as i assume, the pact is still active?”

“hm,” the prince pulled a sly smirk as he caressed the camellias against his rosy cheeks, “you were the one who wished for me to stop calling you ‘milady’, what would be a better way then to call you my wife? (name)?”

"s-seriously? just where did you come up with all these words!" you cupped your cheeks as you turned your back against him. “this is ridiculous.”

jungwon's orbs widened, looking away immediately as he raised his slightly curled fingers up to his cheeks, hiding away his rosy blush. "have you forgotten the kiss? it might have activated this odd magic of well chosen words, my wife.”

“one more time and i’ll leave!”

“alright, alright! here,” jungwon sneakily sways before you, “a bouquet for a pretty lady.”

“you just had to buy the whole thing, seriously.”

“the old lady would surely go about the town, looking for people to sell her flowers. don’t you think it’s a good idea that we could help her quickly?”

upon his words, you shrugged despite wholeheartedly agreeing with him, sniffing the fragrance of the camellias instantly soothes your soul, yet you couldn’t suppress your grin when you recalled his words and his considerate thoughts for the old lady—opting to hide this blooming grin behind the bouquet while you two walked about the town, exploring every bit and bit.

"if i could be bold once more, could i ask you for something again?"

"hm?"

"i had something i wish to give you."

oh please god, no way, if it's the heirloom you've written on page 76 in your novel, you'd rather not as that object is hella important and the particular scene that includes the heirloom was when the prince gave it as a present to the female lead, his lover—on their wedding day.

and you definitely don't wanna be a queen, screw the crown—you'd rather sleep on your fluffy pillows and blankets.

"whatever you're thinking, do scrap the idea." you nonchalantly said, yet the way his eyes looked down in disappointment had you hissing in response all while rolling your eyes. you kind of loathe to see that expression on his face somehow.. "i'm already satisfied with the book you gave me, there's nothing more i wanted than that, do you understand?”

his feline eyes lighted up so quickly as the corners of his faint red lips pulling up in a satisfied smile. “i understand.”

“good.”

🎵... IMMORTAL BIRD

blasting drums and a roaring crowd suddenly engulfed the entire town, causing your voice along with jungwon's to drown alongside it. you caught sight of everyone in a pair regardless of gender or age hopping into a circular pattern in the centre of the street, holding hands together as they spun around, getting closer and then far. their faces adorned with the brightest smiles.

you caught sight of a mother dancing along happily with her two younger sons, a son pulling his father’s hands as they slowly dance in their own world, a pair of best friends from afar as they giddily created their own silly dance, and a sight of two ladies with their hands interlaced as they look into each other’s eyes with traces of tenderness and warmth, and many more you aren't able to mention.

it was a canvas that held love dripping in thousands of hues, and yet it was still in the form of love.

"it's a yearly ritual, milady. to dance together under the night sky as it blooms into fireworks."

"that's wonderful.." you were astounded, yet you somehow don't remember that you wrote this particular ritual. yes, you did wrote about the fireworks festival and that the main couple had their first kiss in that scene. but the dance ritual?.. was there any important memories that you haven’t somehow recalled yet?

"may i then, milady?"

"w-what?" astounded you were at the sight of him standing in front of you with his arms extended, and palms spread before you with sincerity brushing over his faint red lips.

"may i have the honour to have a dance with you, milady?" jungwon asked with hope evident in his eyes, "last time, it didn't end that well for us."

a couple moments of silence grew between you and him despite the gradually increasing volume of the luminous town behind; the dancing pairs, chatters of the elders, murmurs and gasps from the ladies as they go about their day, footsteps of children stomping all across the pathway as they play hide and seek, while some had kites and balloons tied around their wrist—giggling endlessly.

the low volume of musicians playing their respective instruments of accordion, harmonica, and guitar blended accordingly so that it flowed pleasingly to your ears.

a sentient mood of belonging, comfort, and home.

this sight, this atmosphere, the mood this town emitted, this young man before you turning into an innocent young boy whose feline eyes twinkled and blinked slowly for you.

a frame of everly purring garden.

"so.." jungwon raised his palms once again, "may i, milady?"

truly a breathtaking canvas of a man who falls in love.

tugging both sides of your skirts as you lower yourself slightly, curtsying before him. "of course, my prince." you slipped your hands onto his palms, it didn't go past your sight how his feline orbs widened and twinkled a couple of seconds later as the corners of his lips pulled up in a slight grin.

skin brushing against skin and the comforting heat from his chest as he pulled you closer to him, leaning closer he did with his lips brushing against your ear and his warmth voice sending chills down your skin.

"follow my lead, milady."

interlacing his warm fingers with yours, he guided you around the bursting fountain—swaying around in a circular motion just like every other pair did.

the accordion switches to a lively bursting melody, opting to move everyone's feet in a tapping frantic active mode, a goofy grin and giggles emerge from everyone's face as they spin around on and on.

dancing with him feels oddly calming despite everyone’s sudden burst of energy— the lights turning round and round in a circular motion as you danced with the prince had you feeling slight bliss, that is. you shouldn't be enjoying this too much, right?

this town spilling in golden hues like an overflowing sink, yet this prince drips even more in over-saturation with his own colour, splattering its shades across your bare skin.

it feels as if, as if in this very moment that you were the main character with him. as if you were one with him.

his hands lifted your arm as he let you spin around freely for the first time, both your hands and his immediately reattached and he guided your hands onto his shoulder.

two pairs of feet swaying and spinning beneath the ground with golden orbs particles following along as if it had life in it.

and as you spun a couple of times more when he let go of your hand, it didn't go past your vision on how his fingers twirled your hair locks in tender and utmost affection, and the sweetened sugar smile on his faint red lips never ceasing to exist.

as soon as you got back into his arms, jungwon caressed your cheeks in the process—lifting your arm as he turned you around, pulling your back against his chest as you faced the luminous golden town and everything before you. gasping for the nth time when his right arm wrapped around your clothed tummy, and his left hand; two fingers tapping across your bare arms till it reaches your left hand, interlacing your fingers with his as he lifted it up.

hushing in a lullaby-like motion.

shutting his eyes tight as he buried his chin in the side of your neck—he began to guide you to dance in this very intimate position, he whispered, "milady."

goosebumps arise on every cell in your body, as you two indulged in this dance.

the lively instrument along with overlapping voices gradually merging into one, sort of like as if they were a voluminous orchestra, soaring higher and higher with their vocal chords spiralling into utter euphoria with the blasting footsteps on the ground.

yet the man holding you close in his tender pacifying embrace, had you engulfed in solace; the spirited bustling soul of this town and the stark contrast of the serene soul enveloping yours blended in a perfect balance of home.

purring so lovable.

it had you speechless as his strong pair of arms held you up, bringing your feet up and beneath the ground in this hypnotising dance for a couple of times, spinning you gracefully one more time with the frame of your skirt swaying like a blooming flower in its glory— rendering your mind into utter malfunction.

floating and soaring up the air.

he then spun you around to face him, lifting you up with ease like a fairy floating up in the air, "y-your highness—jungwon!" your vision of the crowd all over the space grew hazy and dazed, with only you and him remaining crystal clear in the glowing frame. supporting yourself with your arms on his shoulder, you were about to protest and yet his eyes had such a breathtaking universe within it that it had you sealing your lips.

breathtaking indeed.

like a stone hopping on the ocean causing a butterfly effect of limitless blossoming ripples, it formed a hypnotising image that lured your soul closer to it’s deepest void, rendering you helpless in getting yourself out and yet you wish not to go, but to stay longer, to stay a bit more to see of what would come out of it. floating like a fairy amidst the dreamy ripple within his orbs, you stuttered from this prolonged magnetism gaze.

pit patter of the flowing fountain afar merged with a sudden burst of crackles.

flashes of voluminous sparks exploded within his orbs, your lips hung apart in awe as the dreamy ripples within it bursted into an ocean of light—that instead of a stone, it was like a single marble smashing into it’s void—forming thousands of scattered and shining golden beads of lights within those infatuated orbs, illuminating those engraved words of romances within it.

all solely for you.

you flinched at the exploding thunder-like shooting above the night sky that surpasses what your mind and ears could take, clenching your hand on his shoulder tighter in hopes to find solace, yet you caught sight of his lips mouthing two words that you took a while to process amidst the sound.

“beautiful indeed.. my firework.”

soaring and colourful, the whole city is immersed in the sound of this sea of bursting lights. crowd's roaring in awe surged through your ears, your cheeks met jungwon's chest as he lowered you down, protesting you did yet he hushed you to gaze upon the limitless neon flora blossoming on the starry glazed night sky; the blinding colourful lights illuminated the smile on everyone's face including yours and the prince.

shimmering gemstones rained upon the black velvet sky, forming a waterfall of lights in all sorts of colours and images; crimson petals of roses, aquamarine waves ushering to the seashore, white blanket of scattered snow powders, yellow fleeting dandelions, green blades of the field swaying with the breeze reluctantly slipping down the town, reflecting on the vast water lake.

it was as if the luminous sun had risen upon the town, and another one shooted above on your right side; blossoming its veil-like umbrella that had millions of garden petals on top of it to rain upon everyone. each and one of them had differing images of it representing itself, yet each and one of them was splendid, breathtaking and awe-inspiring.

it showers down the town like fleeting fairy dust.

"it's breathtaking, isn't it? it’s like a shooting star.."

"truly it is—” you flinched at his feline orbs gazing at you in awe, admiring you utterly as if you were the scenery of fireworks itself. you found yourself getting lost in those blossoming sparkles reflecting within his eyes once again.

"stop it."

"why would i?"

"just look at the damn fireworks, will you?" slightly biting your lips as you look away, breaking the prolonged eye contact.

"alright, milady." he shrugged in amusement. it remained in silence for a couple of minutes before he spoke again. "they say, couples who watched the fireworks together had their first kiss under it."

"u-uh?!"

"but milady, you had stolen a kiss from me." he leaned in playfully, flashes of colours illuminating his kittenish orbs and grin. "would you mind if i steal one, too?"

“i-i said stop teasing me!”

jungwon lets out a couple of lighthearted giggles at you attempting to punch him, sprinting and dodging you playfully, and as the both of you were immersed in your little game, the firework festival had wrapped up in one final splendid sight of bursting petals of garden.

glowing golden lanterns illuminating the sidewalk along the way, pit patters of pouring rain dropped on top of your extended palms out the window of the carriage, tender breeze of the night sky blows through your fallen hair locks as your eyes remained glued on the bouquet on your lap, along with his melody chords flowing through your ears like a lullaby.

it has reached past midnight when you two came back from the town, but on the way back home, jungwon had suggested for you to take a look at his quarters first, which you had initially denied due to obvious worrying reasons. yet today, as you delighted yourself in the bouquet of violets, and the sets of memories from the festival, you agreed with little to no hesitation. however along the hallway as you follow behind the prince, despite ignoring these blurbing thoughts—it dawns on you every passing second of what could happen once you step inside his room.

the sight of jungwon’s back facing you had your cheeks flushing immensely as you recalled his bare chest that day in your manor, mentally cussing yourself for even thinking of it. your brain had just got to be your greatest enemy in this moment after your heart, huh?

“y-you see.”

jungwon spun around to face you, yet still walking backwards with his hands interlaced behind his back. you stuttered at the euphoria evident on his cheeks and crinkled eyes, the moonlight from the vast window illuminated on the edges of his divinely sculptured face, and a faint shadow laying beneath his dimples.

“yes, milady?” this guy just really had to play it cool and nice as he sang the addressment in a playful manner.

“remember the pact, okay? i agreed to visit your quarters in order to just take a look, nothing more than that.” your eyes were on the long red carpet as you said that, yet you raise your head finally in order to see his reaction after an excruciating silence that occurs.

"i'd certainly would not dare, milady.. but if you insist." he shots a mischievous wink at your way, causing your already rampant heart to burst in a thousand volts.

shit.

seriously, you couldn't be bothered by this, aren't you? god knows how much filth you've written in the past few years of your life, you could even describe all of it without releasing a few screams or there, which shows how much of a pro you are.

after what seems like an eternity in the hallway, much to your groaning over your aching legs, you and the prince halted before the huge double door with engraved golden swirling patterns all over it.

you were beyond distraught when he pushed the door open to his room, revealing the entire outlook of the furniture, painting, couches, table, and lastly.. the king-sized bed.

bitch, get a hold on yourself. this isn't your first time.

your lips hang slightly apart to feign surprise as if this was your first time to be in his room, cause heck it wasn't obviously not the first time you've seen this place. you were the one who designed his room! this isn't your first time so why were you this nervous?!

“ugh—” you yelp in pain.

“does your feet hurt, milady?”

“no, no, it’s just aching, that is.” mentally cussing once again at how freaking long the hall in this palace was, you could’ve sworn it felt like you were going for the thousand stairs up to heaven. your head grew dazed when your vision slightly floated upwards from the floor, eyebrows deeply knitted together as to how are you up so high? your haze vision caught sight of your legs dangling up the air and slowly at the pair of strong arms carrying your legs, it finally dawned on you as you let out a yelp with the close proximity of the prince’s face against yours.

“wait- put me down! put me down!”

“hush, milady. you got to take some rest.”

“then in the couch! on the couch, right now!” you pleaded within the depths of your mind, oh my god. oh my god please god help me!

“the couch is not ideal for this situation.” he reasoned with you, not even budging nor pausing in his way to the king-sized bed.

🎵...STUCK IN LOVE

“what is not ideal?!” you whimpered as he placed you on the edge of the bed, taken aback at how he simply gets on the floor with one knee, rubbing your feet after pulling out your shoes. the prince poured his utmost concentration in massaging your aching feet, with his long fingers rubbing and stroking your sole in circular motion. to your surprise, he had been doing this for a whole good ten minutes without saying anything.

you didn’t expect this at all, were you that dirty-minded?! groaning within, you weep to the deities to cleanse your mind at least.

“milady is so worked up for nothing, i wonder what could she be thinking about?” you gave him a deadpan look at how he obviously was teasing you to death.

“stop teasing me.”

“hm? why not? teasing you has been my greatest hobby for awhile now, milady.”

“i said stop it, i dare you or else—”

“or else.. what?” your head blasted in utter chaos when he lets your feet down, leaning closer and closer.

“s-stop!”

“or else.. what, milady?” jungwon cooed, tucking your hair locks behind your ear. “i’m awfully curious.." he pushed you on top of the bed, hovering over you as he caged you within his arms on both sides of your head.

"milady."

your breath caught up on the back of your throat with the sight of him on top of you, akin to a predator about to feast on its prey, due to his feline orbs switching to an expression you very well knew what it means.

"that's certainly brave of you, don't you think? milady?" he keeps emphasising the last word as if he adores to call you that very much, adding such a seductive tone had your heart skipping a beat. "kissing me in front of other ladies, that's quite a fascinating trait."

a thousand hazardous beats, actually. you really can't do this. "i mean, i don't know.."

"milady." he whispered. "are you really shy?" giggles emerged causing tingles on your neck. "after kissing me?"

"c-can you just stop messing with me?!"

"as you wish, milady." he pressed a passionate kiss on your forehead, chanting the word a dozen more times as he continued on making you feel so loved.

his affectionate gestures were driving your bones into weakness and your knees to marshmallows as you indulge yourself in his love—the love he bestows only for you.

"milady, come." his lips brushed against your hair, and to your surprise, he grabbed your hand and pulled you on your feet. surprise and speechless you was as nothing had gone past the limits you placed for him, and the fact that he did nothing but simply tease you does wonders to your heart.

your mind floated into confusion as he urged you to take a seat in front of the big round mirror with a golden frame, letting you view yourself and the prince in the glassy reflection.

you sat there in silence; curious, confused, and a bit intrigued blended with tiny traces of fear of what he intended to do. your heart skips a beat when you observe him taking your hair locks on his palms as he feels it against his cheek, it was an eccentric lovesick sight of him. his long fingers wrapped around the handle of the hair brush on the side of the table, he brushes the piece of your hair locks in his palms gently with it.

"i adore it when you call me 'your prince'."

you felt uneasy, a whole new different meaning of uneasiness as his small gesture of brushing your hair had your heart burbling into forms you couldn't understand. what is this feeling? why was he so gentle and loving with you? for what?

after what felt like eternity, he lets your hair down. his fingers brushes against your bare shoulder which had you flinching slightly. he notices this, the corners of his lips pulling up as he caresses your bare skin with the back of his hand, excruciatingly slow and tiny, tremendously affectionate and enamoured.

he knelt down before you, taking both of your hands in his, engaging it—bringing it on his cheeks which causes you to feel the sensation of his skin. then his lips ghosted across your fingers as he pressed a long deep kiss on top of your hand.

the sensation of his lips has your face flushing in utter mess, you wanted to stay calm and yet these tiny gestures he claimed as a lover's vow, had you crumbling into his hands.

his other hand plucks out a single violet from the bouquet, tucking your hair behind your ear as he pushes the flora in. caressing your hair after in such an affectionate manner.

"milady," his feline eyes raised to gaze deep into your crumbling soul, "i wonder if i am worthy enough to be your lover?"

speechless as your tongue tied on its own, gulping immensely. "my lover?.. just why are you so damn infatuated with me? i don't understand, this must be a joke, isn't?"

"i am not joking, milady. just as you called me your man that day," jungwon spoke, as sincerity engulfed his voice, "i myself also desire to call you my woman.. and not just my woman.."

his hand reaches down to hold your hands in his again, grasping it with burning passion.

"..my lover, my wife, the queen of this nation, and if you would like to someday.. the mother of my future child."

after a couple seconds of silence of you being utterly speechless at his words, he then spoke again with his wavering boba orbs, tongue lapping his lower lip in obvious uneasiness. “all i need is your permission, and one word from you, milady.”

those strings of words holding traces, no, a heavy scent and weight of undying love—he basically just professed his love for you, and proposed to you this time in a more appropriate, intimate, and affectionate way.

to you, he was the garden that slowly held you in his lush bed of comfort. to him, you were the flower that made this garden blooming so evergreen. the violet to his eyes.

the choice is all yours, what is your answer, milady?

💌 TAGLIST: @rinirou @moonchus @seonushine @nourhan-8 @heeseungsim @positivelyinlovewithjungwon @ineedsomezzz @chaechae-23 @axartia @altgojo

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