ELYSIAN ♫

translation

Aventurine doesn't like being understood, but he does like understanding other people. It is essential for manipulation, for scheming, for control. And he likes controlling you especially—for keeping you close but your heart a comfortable distance away, for opening your legs when he wants the pleasure of your body, for playing your emotions however he needs. And the day will come when that skill will be invaluable—the day when he must die without shattering you. (Or: You are the only person in the universe who understands Aventurine in his mother tongue. He often regrets teaching it to you.)

5k words. gender neutral reader, established relationship, angst, non-graphic sex (reader bottoms, anatomy neutral), themes of cultural loss, references to slavery, aventurine’s canonically implied desire to die. MDNI.

Aventurine cannot lie in Avgin.

Deception does not come easily to him in his mother tongue. His command of it is too weak—and too kind. The universe was a different place in the days when his life was coloured by the warble of Avgin dialect. It felt simpler, partly because he was a child and partly because Sigonia was yet untouched by outsiders. There were no corporations, no casinos, no commodity codes. His entire world was sand, desert, mother, sister, father (or more often—ghost), goddess, tent, wagon, luck, sin, rain, blessing, Avgin.

Katican.

Aventurine is sure that he knew more than just those words. He was fluent as a child. He had conversations with his sister that were complex enough to make his heart hurt, though perhaps his heart was just constantly aching anyway. But the rest of his early words escapes him. He could maybe dredge them up if he thinks long enough, but he also isn't sure if his tongue and lips could form the shape of them anymore. Sometimes he still counts in Avgin, memorises phone numbers in it, but he doesn’t remember the last time he actually strung together a full sentence in the language.

When Aventurine was first stolen into slavery (a word that he had not known as a child, and still doesn't know in Avgin), he wasn’t given a Synesthesia Beacon. He had to rely on his ears and his wits, deciphering the harsh edges of the Katican dialect and then the strange garble of Interastral Standard Language. By the time he had a Beacon installed, it was already translating all speech into Standard—his dominant language.

Sometimes he feels a little aggrieved by it, but at least it wasn't Katican. He'd have blown out his brains if it were.

But it is easy to console himself: Avgin is not a useful language anyway. Dead languages have no value, and the Avgin dialect was killed along with its people. You can’t perform commerce in a dead language, can't negotiate contracts, can't enter a gambling den and use your silver tongue to rob people blind. You can't use a dead language to fell governments and extract resources; you can't use a dead language to bring an entire planet to its knees. You can’t use a dead language to gamble your life; you can't use it to save yourself from the gallows.

You cannot deceive people in a language that is defined by sand, sister, goddess, ghost.

Aventurine cannot lie in Avgin. His command of it is too weak, and there is no one left to which he can lie, anyway.

When you ask Aventurine to teach you his first language, he gives you an amused look.

“Why Avgin?” he asks. “No one speaks it anymore. I can teach you Common Sigonian if you’d like. Or we could learn Xianzhounese together. Maybe Intellitron code? I know a little.”

“You speak Avgin,” you argue.

“Not often,” he says. “And badly when I do.”

“But it's still your language. And I want to understand you.”

Aventurine has to stop himself from laughing. Understand him? He hates being understood. When people understand him, it makes him predictable. And unlikeable. Hardly a position from which he can manipulate people in.

You understand him well enough to know that.

“You'll have to give me a better reason than that,” he says neatly. “Make it worth my while. Reward me.”

You look at him as you ponder, your eyes lingering on his. Perhaps trying to read him, though he prefers to think you're just enjoying the sight of them.

“I’ll teach you my language as well?”

“You mean—you'll reward my hard labour with more work?” he says, lighthearted.

You frown at him despite the joke. “You don't want to understand me better than what a Synesthesia Beacon would allow?” He blinks, pausing. “It’ll be convenient too. We can talk shit about other people in public and no one will understand us.”

Aventurine considers you. He doesn't like being understood, but he does like understanding other people. It is essential for manipulation, for scheming, for control. And he likes controlling you especially—for keeping you close but your heart a comfortable distance away, for opening your legs when he wants the pleasure of your body, for playing your emotions however he needs. And the day will come when that skill will be invaluable—the day when he must die without shattering you.

He also likes the idea of talking shit in public.

“I'm listening,” he says, voice lilting. You lean in, smiling. Sweet. It makes his heart feel something he isn't used to. Something addictive. Something disgusting. He scrambles to cover it with one of the usual tools: humour or distraction or maybe just plain old lying—his most reliable weapon.

“I'll throw in a kiss?” you try.

He hums. “Just one?”

“One per day.”

“Three.”

“You drive a hard bargain.”

“Well, I am a businessman.”

You snort, but he knows you're endeared. You have very noticeable tells when you’re flustered.

“Okay,” you say. “Three kisses on days you teach me.”

“Deal.”

Aventurine remembers more Avgin than he thought he would.

It comes to him slowly, painstakingly. You aren't interested in structured lessons, and he wouldn't be able to provide them anyway. He has a nonexistent grasp of grammar aside from this sounds right and that sounds strange, and Avgin dialect is both so niche and so dead that no textbooks are available. The scholars have abandoned the language as much as the politicians abandoned its people. Aventurine only has you, his fragmented memory, and whatever questions come to mind as you live out your days with him.

Mostly, you ask him about basic vocabulary. Sometimes you ask him to repeat sentences from your conversations in Avgin, like he’s some kind of multilingual parrot. Each prompt forces him to wade through the fog in his mind, the one that’s been shrouding his childhood memories until now. He's startled at how naturally the old words roll off his tongue: One, two, three, four. Good morning. Good evening. Good night. Sweet dreams. Five, six, seven, eight. You're lying to me. Why do you always lie to me? I don't know what you're talking about. Nine, ten, eleven, twelve. Welcome home. Have you eaten? Have some bread. I made you stew. Twenty, thirty, forty, fifty. That was dangerous. I thought you wouldn't make it back to me. Sometimes I think you want to die. One hundred, one thousand, one million, one billion. I'm sorry. Come here. Let me kiss you. Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry.

When you say, How do I ask you to let me hold you, he answers easily. He'd heard the words so often as a child: Let me hold you, Kakavasha. Let Mama hold you. His mouth forms the sounds without conscious thought.

He regrets it almost immediately.

When Aventurine hears it from you—stilted, halting, but no less gentle—he stops breathing. Let me hold you. You say it all the time in Standard, but it feels different in Avgin. More painful. A strange sense of panic closes in on him when he's wrapped up in you, thinking in Avgin, thinking sand, sister, goddess, ghost. He holds you tightly, like the rags cut from his father’s shirt, or his mother’s locket won back from the shell-slashers, or a bag of poker chips beneath a card table, clutched within his trembling grip.

“Aventurine, is something wrong?” you ask in Avgin, and he replies in Standard with his usual smile.

“Hm? No. What could be wrong if I have you here?”

Lying is one of his greatest tools. Sex is another one. So he says, “I think I'd like my reward now,” and he runs his lips along your jaw, your pulse, the spot over your heart (there's a word for that in Avgin but not Standard, he tells you), until you're laughing. I thought you wanted three kisses, you tease, and he replies, Who said I wanted to kiss you on the mouth?

But he coaxes open your thighs, and once he's inside you, he collects his payment properly. He kisses you, and kisses you, and kisses you—and you swallow his lies whole.

There are some things that Aventurine doesn't teach you. Mostly, they’re things that he can’t teach you.

There are countless gaps in his Avgin. His speech is painfully childish—probably more childish than it was when he actually stopped speaking it. He doesn't know how to swear (something that disappoints you) and he doesn't know how to flirt (something that devastates you). He doesn’t know any words that would be useful for work either: commercialization, governance, stakes, winnings, profit. When you ask him what his job title is in Avgin (“Was senior management even a thing in Avgin society?”), he laughs and gives you the word for gambler.

Then there are the words that he remembers—has remembered his whole life—but never says. Not to you, and not to himself. He doesn't teach you any prayers. He doesn't teach you any blessings. He doesn't teach you about Mama Fenge, or the Kakava Festival, or how the rain fell when he was born. When you ask him, What holidays did you celebrate when you were little? he shrugs and says, We didn't have any. Sigonia’s too bleak to do any partying.

Then you ask him one day, while your bodies are spent in the afterglow of sex, sticky with sweat and sweetness, how to say I love you. And he goes quiet.

Love is a cheap word in Interastral Standard. In the language of globalisation and trade, love has been commercialised, commodified, capitalised for power. You say it to him in many contexts: I love this, I love that, I love you. He hardly ever reacts, and he's never said it back. It would feel unnecessary and also cruel if he did: Aventurine has only ever said the words himself as either a joke or a manipulation.

But love feels different in Avgin than in Interastral Standard, doesn't sound like a thing that can be traded or bought. Kakavasha only ever said the word love to his mother, to his sister, to his father's grave. Love in his mother tongue feels priceless.

When Aventurine thinks about you saying it—I love you, Kakavasha, in clumsy, earnest Avgin—something so painful swells in his throat that he can hardly breathe.

“There is no word for love in my language,” he tells you.

You blink. “Okay, then what's an idiom for it?”

“There is none. There’s no word or phrase expressing love.”

You raise a brow. “That’s hard to believe.”

“Is it?” He smiles. “There’s no Avgin in the known universe who cares about love. Only scheming, thieving, and treachery—and you can't do those things when love is involved.”

You look at him in alarm. “Why are you saying that?” You're practically squirming in your discomfort. “I don't know why you think I'd believe such a racist stereotype.”

“It’s not a stereotype,” he says. “I'm not talking about the Avgin culture. I'm talking about myself.”

After all, he is the only Avgin left.

It is an unfair thing to say. A cruel thing to say. After all the laughing and kissing and crying and fucking, after all the tender eyes and gentle words from you—it is probably the worst pain imaginable: I don't give a shit about you. He waits for you to cry.

But you only stare at him calmly, studying him. You brush the hair out of his eyes, seeing them clearly.

“If you lie to me all the time,” you say in Avgin, “eventually I'll stop believing anything you say.”

Aventurine is speechless. His heart does that addictive, disgusting thing again. He thinks about leaving, but then you say, Let me hold you, and he can't do anything other than obey.

Avgin dialect was once included in the Synesthesia Beacon list of functions. The Intelligentsia Guild added it before the Second Katica-Avgin Extinction Event, when the IPC was trying to get a political foothold on Sigonia via the Avgin people. The language was alive then, with enough value to be included into the Synesthesia LLM by the linguists.

But since the Extinction Event—since Kakavasha ran away from home—the Synesthesia data on Avgin has been stagnant, a fossil. Aventurine knows because he's subscribed to software updates for certain languages (Avgin Sigonian, Common Sigonian, Interastral Standard, and now your mother tongue). He gets pinged every time there's a new addition for slang, for neologisms—but there hasn't been a ping for the Avgin dialect since he had the Beacon installed. The live translation function hasn't even been available since the previous Amber Era. When he checks its page on his Synesthesia app, it's very clear why—

SIGONIAN, AVGIN DIALECT SPEAKERS: 0 STATUS: Extinct END OF SERVICE: 2156 AE

The complete death of the language has led to an irritating dilemma for you and Aventurine. You keep running into words that he doesn't know—this time not because of his childlike speech, but because they never existed in his language to begin with. Ocean, tropical, rainforest. Starskiff, accelerator, space fleet. Stock market, shortselling, mutual funds. Black hole, event horizon, spaghettification. All things that never came up for Kakavasha, but now come up for Aventurine, and the language has not evolved to include it.

He always wants to switch to Standard to discuss these things, but you're insistent on speaking in Avgin as much as possible. He doesn't know why, but he doesn't mind humouring you—partly because he likes to indulge you, and partly because he’s grown used to hearing the honeyed timbre of Avgin dialect in your household. The place would feel strange without it.

So you start filling the gaps with other languages, filtering them through the lyricism of Avgin. Loanwords, he thinks they’re called. You take ocean, tropical, rainforest from Amazian; starskiff, accelerator, space fleet from Xianzhounese; stock market, shortselling, mutual funds from Interastral Standard. For the astrophysics terms, you try directly translating them—with limited success.

“Can't I literally just say ‘black hole’?” you ask in Avgin, and he nearly spits out his coffee.

“Please don't. That's a dirty word.” He can't bring himself to say what it means, but from the way you’re laughing, you can clearly guess.

“I thought you said you didn't know how to swear.”

“You've just reminded me how.”

“You're welcome.” You look on the verge of cackling. Aventurine finishes his coffee and wonders when you're going to surprise him with your newfound vulgarity.

“Let's just do the space terms based on Standard,” he says. Begs.

“No, that's so boring.”

“Then let's do your language.”

You open your mouth. Close it. Give him a blank look.

“You don't know how to say those words in your mother tongue either, do you,” he intuits.

“Well, ‘spaghettification’ doesn't really come up in everyday conversation, does it?”

“Then maybe we don't need it.” He smiles, senses an opportunity. Smells blood. “How about ‘love’? I'd much rather know how you say that. I bet it sounds beautiful.”

You give him a long look. Your eyes are vulnerable when you share it: Love. I love you. He’s fascinated by the sound of it. Your voice is never that fragile when you say it in Standard. It's never so earnest. He repeats it, staring at you, and your gaze falls to the ground. His mouth curls.

“I like it,” he says. “Let's use that. It'll sound nice in Avgin.”

You try to recover. “Sure. That works. But back to ‘black hole’—”

And the two of you continue like that for days, weeks, months. It feels like a complete bastardization of his mother tongue on some days, in some conversations. Almost unrecognisable. But it doesn't feel bad. It’s all he has, it's all you have, and when he walks into your home, he starts speaking it without thinking: your bastard, patchwork language. The Avgin dialect that exists only in your house. A tongue that can only be understood by a liar.

And then, one lazy Sunday morning, he gets a familiar ping. He expects it to be Interastral Standard, as usual. The language balloons with each planet that the IPC colonises.

But instead, he opens his screen and freezes.

SIGONIAN, AVGIN DIALECT SPEAKERS: 2 STATUS: Endangered. SERVICE RESUMED: 2157 AE NEW UPDATES: 103 loanwords and 5 neologisms added.

He can't stop looking at the status. Endangered. Endangered, which means dying, but alive. The Avgin dialect is alive again. The Intelligentsia Guild determined it, so it must be true. But Aventurine can't agree: there are no Avgin speakers in the known universe other than the two of you, and what you speak isn't real Avgin. The Avgin spoken by his mother and father and sister is dead; the Avgin spoken by Kakavasha is dead. The festivals are gone; the deserts have been terraformed. There are no wagons; there are no dances; there are no prayers. There are no blessings, and he has no home—

As long as you are alive, the blood of the Avgin will never run dry.

His throat locks up.

“Aventurine?” you ask. Your voice is drowsy, but concerned. “Is something wrong?”

He looks at you from his phone, a polished smile on his face.

“No.” His syllables are plain and efficient in the noise of Interastral Standard: “Just looking at details for a new assignment. It’ll be a long one.”

“Oh.” You frown. “Will you be away from home for a long time, then?”

He stops himself from swallowing. “Yes, I'll be away from the house. For several months, probably.”

“Okay.” Your voice is small. “Take care of yourself, okay? I'll miss you.”

Each word you speak resonates with heartbreak. It always does in these conversations, even in Standard—but the sorrow is amplified in Avgin. His mother tongue has an inherently sad quality to it, he's noticed. His people have lost so much over their history—their language is one of loss. It's his language of loss. Kakavasha did all his grieving in Avgin; Aventurine has never felt sorrow in Standard. When the language died, so did Kakavasha—and all his regrets with it.

“You'll come home to me, right?” you ask. It's a beautiful sentence in Avgin. A heartrending one. He feels something that he hasn't known since he was a child.

It's a feeling he has to kill.

“Yes,” he says in Standard. “Of course I'll come back.”

This is not the first time that Aventurine has been mistaken for dead, but this is the longest time.

The latest world to join the IPC network was a tough acquisition. It had been ruled by a despot who wreaked havoc on both the people and the planet, and who was too stupid and reckless to resolve conflicts with his trade partners. He probably would have blown up the whole star system had he been left to his own devices. Aventurine had no qualms about bringing him to ruin, nor did he have qualms about nearly dying in the process.

If things had gone his way, he'd either be dead or missing. This would have been the perfect opportunity to do the latter, actually—to be freed from the IPC. Free to drift alone, speaking with strangers in strange, unfamiliar tongues. No connection to his past, to the cruel history of his luck, to his commodity code. No tether to his inherently unjust destiny. But instead he's back in your house, pockets heavy with his borrowed wealth, speaking to you in his bastardised, childish Avgin. I'm sorry. Come here. Let me kiss you. Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry.

Your Avgin is—shockingly fluent. He doesn't know how. He can't think about it right now. All he can process is the wounded animal noise of your speech as you yell at him, as you cry. Like an injured songbird, or a weeping child. Why did you leave, why did you lie, why do you always lie to me, why don't you give a shit about me, you spit. Why do you want to die, why do you want to die, why do you want to die, you keep saying. Sand, sister, goddess, ghost, he keeps hearing. Sand, sister, goddess, ghost. Don't leave me, big sister. People will die. Why do you have to go?

“I’m sorry,” he tries again, this time in your language. “I'm so sorry. Come here. Let me hold you.”

You collapse into your mother tongue. Aventurine is both relieved and horrified. Relieved that he doesn't need to hear the language of his grief—horrified that he needs to hear yours. He's never heard you cry like this. He's never heard you break like this. These must have been the words you used when the soldiers found you hiding in your closet, when they dragged you out of your home. You were just a child.

Aventurine doesn't know the words you are using—you've never taught them—but he still understands them.

You're very malleable when you’re sad; even more so when you're hysterical. Aventurine understands this about you, and he understands how to calm you—this time in your native tongue—and he understands how to kiss you. He understands that you need to feel close to him. He understands that there are ways to accomplish this other than sex. A normal person would talk it out, have an honest conversation, come to a mutual understanding, and maybe even stop trying to kill himself. They wouldn't fuck you into the mattress while your face is still wet with tears.

But Aventurine is not a normal person. He doesn't know how to have an honest conversation, and he doesn't want to be understood. Lying is his greatest weapon, and sex is a close second. So he kisses you until you’re too breathless to cry, fucks you until you can't think, and makes you come so hard that you’re in too much bliss to grieve. And maybe it's horrible of him, but he enjoys it. He enjoys the way your body takes him in so easily, the way your nails dig into his back, the way you tighten around him when you climax, so wet and needy for him. The way you beg for him in your language for liars as he spends himself inside you: I love you, Aventurine, I love you, I love you, I love you—

Only because it feels good. This is all only because he enjoys fucking you. This is all only because you enjoy fucking him. This is all it'll ever be, and it'll be this way until he gets to meet his end.

(Some months ago, Aventurine started dreaming in Avgin.

It surprised him when he first noticed it. The last time he remembers having a dream in his native tongue, he was twelve years old and still in chains. And even then, it had become a sporadic, strange thing. Awful to wake up from. One minute he was with his mother and sister on a cool, rainy day, speaking fluently in Avgin as he laughed and played—and the next minute, he was being shaken awake in his cage, hearing the cruel lash of Katican.

But ever since he's started speaking Avgin with you, he's been dreaming in it. Vividly. Sometimes he's a child in these dreams, and sometimes he's grown. He's always back in the Sigonian desert, among the tents and the campfires and his family wagons. His mother and sister are alive. Sometimes his father is too. The skies roar with thunder and the stellar winds are always harsh, but they always keep him cocooned up in their arms. He's always warm.

Sometimes Aventurine dreams of nicer days. Clear skies, warm sun, cool breeze—all blessings from the Mother Goddess. On these days, he tends to be an adult, and you tend to be there with him. Your Avgin is fluent but strange, filled with funny loanwords and peculiar slang. His father likes the neologisms and starts using them—but only in wrong ways. His sister finds it embarrassing and keeps apologising to you.

His mother loves you. She loves you so much it hurts. This is how I know you're blessed, Kakavasha, she says, glowing. You’re so lucky to have found such a kind person.

Kakavasha knows this. He knows he's lucky, and in his dreams, that isn't a bad thing. In his dreams, his luck means that his home is not violently excised from his heart: his father never dies; his mother never dies; his sister never dies. The tents are not burned; the wagons are not destroyed. He is never forced to forget his people's dishes, their songs, their language, their joy. And in his dreams, his luck means that he meets you anyway, without all the loss and the chains and the lying.

In his dreams, he is able to bring you to the desert. He is able to teach you the Avgin he spoke as a child, to cook all the meals his mother used to make, to share with you their coffee and their tea. He teaches you prayers. He teaches you blessings. He tells you about Mama Fenge, about how the rain fell when he was born. He takes you to the Kakava Festival, shows you how to dance, sings to you all the Avgin songs until you're singing back. He presses his palm to yours in prayer; he kisses you in devotion, not avoidance.

Sometimes the two of you still fight, the same fights that you have in real life, but he handles them with honesty. He listens to you. He apologises to you. He tells you that he’ll change, and he means it—because this world is a kind one, and he has no need to be so cruel to you.

In this kind world, when you lay in bed with his arms tight around you, you smile at him and say, I love you, Kakavasha. You say it in Avgin—real Avgin, not the dialect born from genocide and deceit—and when he responds, there's not even a little bit of insincerity in his voice. Because Kakavasha never became Aventurine in these dreams, so he has no Interastral Standard in which he can lie to you, no silver tongue with which he can manipulate you, no commodity code that inspires his fear of being controlled by you. Kakavasha only knows Avgin, and he only has his sand, his family, his goddess, his home.

And he has you. Finally, he has you.

He kisses you, and kisses you, and kisses you—and then he tells you the truth.)

.

.

.

Aventurine cannot lie in Avgin.

You noticed this very early on: whenever he lies to you, he always switches to Interastral Standard. Probably he wouldn't be able to do it in his mother tongue. His command of it is too weak, and the words he knows are all too kind. He speaks with the innocence of a child, and children cannot deceive people in the way that adults can. Children cannot perform commerce or negotiate contracts. They cannot use a silver tongue to rob people blind. They cannot save themselves from the gallows.

So Aventurine’s Avgin is defenceless. Vulnerable. So vulnerable it hurts. You are not so vulnerable in your first language because your captors spoke it on occasion, and you learned to lie in it to gain their pity. You told Aventurine that knowing it would help him understand you, but this was a deception. Aventurine’s mother tongue was a language of trust, but yours is a dialect of abuse.

The Avgin language died before Aventurine could be gutted by it; this is why it disarms him so completely. This is why he’s so indulgent and so warm when you use it with him, why he yields to all your requests. Not requests for money or gifts—you’re certain those are meaningless to him—but for affection. Let me hold you. Let me touch you. Let me kiss you. He can never say no.

This is also why he loves hearing you speak his mother tongue, you think—it makes him feel at home, it makes him feel safe. Maybe it even makes him feel loved. He never seems so at peace speaking any other language, so you try to use Avgin as much as possible. You like seeing him happy. You like it even if it means you need to teach him your own native language in exchange, even when it means you need to hear him say all the things your captors used to say. You don't mind it if it's him. You never mind the harm he inflicts on you, especially not when it brings you closer to him.

It is convenient that he cannot lie in Avgin. You only wanted to learn it in the first place because he talks in his sleep—mostly in Standard, but sometimes in his native tongue. And now that you know he cannot lie in Avgin, you also know he's always being honest in his dreams. Honest when he throws his arms around you in his sleep. Honest when he grabs you so tightly that you bruise. Honest when he buries his face into your neck and whispers prayers into your skin.

Most of the words he says are common ones, the earliest vocabulary that he taught you. But there are some things he's withheld from you—and to learn those things, you had to track down linguists from the Intelligentsia Guild, bribe them with your dirty money, have them give you all their deprecated, extinct data. It felt two-faced, and it was violating, but it was the only way. You already know that Aventurine would rather die than translate his feelings for you, would never want this part of himself understood.

I'm sorry for always leaving you.

I'm sorry for making you cry.

I can't bear the thought of losing you.

Freedom would be too lonely without you.

I don't want to hurt you anymore.

I don't want to lie to you anymore.

I missed you.

I want you.

I need you.

I love you.

end

afterword

Cat

Made some Scarameow doodles based off some random cat memes lol, pick your fighter

Casual little reminder about your self inserts

Be as OP as you fucking want.

Make yourself a god

give yourself superpowers

give yourself a tail and horns or wings or anything you want!

Let your s/i change the entire plot to be how you like.

Make your s/i a shapeshifter or a vampire or an elf.

Even if it doesn't fit in Canon. I don't care. Your s/i is completely indulgent to you. What matters is that you enjoy yourself.

I make the rules. Im not sorry about it. That's how it is.

Your f/o loves you so so much. Doesn't care if you're human or an alien or whatever. They love you for you.

Coming from someone who literally made a goddess s/i at one point. Just have fun with it

Today, Jordan airdropped food for Gaza. Most of it landed in the sea as fisherman went by boat to grab the bags. The food was sealed and everything was packed tightly for the possibility of it dropping in the sea so the food was edible but this is not enough. 4 planes for 2.1 million people is not enough. We need a ceasefire now and for the thousands of trucks that are blocked at the border to enter before this catastrophe continues to take lives.

struck with love

the duke and you. will the relationship blossom into something more than just a friendship?

content: SUGGESTIVE! + regency au + duke!blade + duke’s daughter!reader (you’re not blades daughter!) + fem!reader + blade gets called yingxing + pining + second chance + heartbreak + groveling + make out + loads of kisses + fluff + jing yuan and the princess cameo (same characters from my jing yuan fic) + happy ending!!

word count: 11k (I got to into it but it’s a fast fast read I promise!)

hope you enjoy ><

—

The Duke of Stellaron.

This is the first time you’ve seen the man in the flesh aside from hearing about him. He was walking up from behind Prince Jing Yuan. He bows to the princess beside you before addressing Jing Yuan before he stands beside him, you give him a curt bow with a gentle smile.

“Your Grace.” You address him as he bows curtly back at you. Then you see how he looks between you and the princess. The princess immediately figured what was going on.

“Your Grace, this is my most beloved friend. The daughter of the Duke of Navalia.”

“My lady.” You can’t help the lingering look you give him. He’s a handsome man, quite stoic and almost devoid of any emotions except from the polite look on his face. As he chats to Jing Yuan, you see how he glances back at you and your eyes slightly widens when yours meet his crimson eyes before hastily looking away.

“So, Your Highness. How does it feel to have been crowned as a prince?” You throw the question at Jing Yuan who started to look bashful. You grin as you hear the princess, who’s also his wife, giggle beside you. As you grinned, you failed to notice a pair of crimson eyes laying their sight upon how your big smile lightens up your face, thinking how beautiful you are.

“It certainly feels weird.” Jing Yuan says and you hear the princess dramatically gasp from beside you. “That’s not what you said yesterday, my love. I thought you were ecstatic.” She lightly pouts and Jing Yuan immediately grasps onto her hand.

“Of course I’m ecstatic my heart, but I can’t deny it feels weird to be addressed as ‘Your Highness’ than the title of my military rank.” His voice was gentle and the way he kissed his wife’s knuckles softly, has you envy their relationship. Their love was truly so fated. As you glance away from their interaction, you look at the Duke who was quiet the entire time.

“How’s you stay here in Xianzhou, Your Grace?” You ask, feeling shy when you see him look at you. He gives a light nod.

“Quite different from the almost quiet live in Stellaron.” He responds, his reply making you giggle. You nod your head. “Xianzhou is quite-“ you pause as you think of a word.

“Lively.” You hear the Duke's deep voice. You look at him and nod in agreement. “Quite indeed.” You smile at him, finding him quite lively as well.

“Have you been to Stellaron, my lady?” You don’t know why you felt surprised he asked you a question about yourself, but you did. But you found yourself quite liking it.

“I have actually. Though I suppose you weren’t there.” You ponder on if you actually met him the time you visited Stellaron. “I’m sure I’d remember you if I was there.” He lightly chuckles.

“I feel flattered, Your Grace.” You grin at him and you missed how his eyes widened when you flashed him your big smile. Looking away from him, you see how the princess and prince started walking away, arms locked in together, chatting amongst themselves.

“It seems our pair of monarchs have left us.” You playfully sigh before holding onto a little bit of your dress to rise the gown up a bit, missing the way the duke’s eyes lowered themselves to glance at your legs.

“Let’s hurry shall we?” You ask the Duke as he looks at you for a moment before nodding his head.

—

After that day of your first meeting with the Duke of Stellaron, you found yourself enjoying his stoic presence. But he isn’t as stoic as you thought he’d be, he’s very lively in his own way. Randomly saying some sassy remarks which has you gasping and lightly swatting his arm, his arm he so offered for you to hold onto. Or if you didn’t know well enough, you’d miss how he is actually pulling jokes when he sounds so serious.

“Yingxing!” You waved at him as you lightly skipped away from the princess to him.

“My Lady.” He greets you with a smile you’d grown to love. “Ugh, not again! I told you to call me by name.” You pout. You hear him lightly chuckle as you see him offer his arm to you. And then you hear him call you by your name, which makes a smile appear on your face, joy so evident.

Gratefully, you place your hand on his arm and you two start walking away from Jing Yuan and the princess, unbeknownst to you two, missing the way they look at you two with a knowing look on their face.

“So tell me, why are you called Blade?” You ask. “I sometimes hear Jing Yuan calling you that, but never had the opportunity to ask why.” You explain to him and Blade sighs. You look at him confused.

“It’s a nickname I received during the military training, which I was so unfortunate to have at the same time as Jing Yuan.” He says and you giggle.

“Did you perhaps do something cool?” You grin at him and he lets out a breathy laugh.

“According to Jing Yuan and the others, me hitting bullseye ten times in a row with blades, was very cool.” He tells you and you gasp.

“Bullseye ten times in a row? Yingxing, that’s extremely amazing!” You squeeze his arms and he chuckles. “Well, if you say so. Then perhaps it is.”

“I’m sure you did many more amazing stuff with blades.” You tell him and he nods. “I did actually. I was quite proficient in using blades.” He remarks. “And swords as well.” He adds on and you giggle.

“I’m smelling some foul stench of flaunting here.” You tease him and he grins at you, which makes your heart flutter. He looks so much more beautiful like this than the stoic demeanour he always puts on. You look one last time at his pretty smile before looking away, pointing at some nearby big bird flying by, trying to ignore this butterfly mess feeling in your body.

—

The Princess was hosting a ball to welcome the new season. And here you were standing amongst the punch drinks, deciding wether you should pick the raspberry flavour or the watermelon one. Though the way the watermelon punch drinks was decorated is quite cute with the small bites of the fruit sitting atop the rim of the glass.

“I see you’re having a difficult time.” You hear a familiar voice which instantly makes your heartbeat go faster and the fluttery mess in your body go off again. You turn to look at him and as soon as you do, a lovely smile appears on Blade’s face as he softly says ‘hi’ and calls you by your name in that soft deep voice of his.

“Hi, Yingxing.” You say shyly, thinking of the way he greeted you.

“I’d recommend the watermelon one, it’s quite delicious.” At his words, you turn surprised then a quiet laugh bursts out from you. “Then I shall pick that one.” You tell him as you grab onto the watermelon punch glass.

“When you’re done drinking, may I have a dance with you?” You hear him ask and you felt streams of joy spread inside your body. This is gonna be your first dance with the man you’ve had the opportunity to get to know better over the past few weeks.

“You may.” You gracefully accept his invitation.

As you chat amongst yourselves, sipping on the last bit of your punch, you place the empty glass on a passing waiter's metal board. And as you do that, you hear the musicians change the music. You look at Blade, who then looks at you with his hand reached out.

He takes you to the dance floor. As you stand in front of him, you place your left hand on his shoulder and the other one holding his left hand. Then you feel his right hand on your back and you can’t help the slight shiver that comes up in your body. It doesn’t help the fact your gown is kind of backless and you feel his bare hand on the place between your neck and upper back.

You glance up at him then he leads you, moving to the steps of how waltz go. Left foot back, right foot to the side and step forward. The dance suddenly making you nervous by the close proximity, you almost squeeze your hold on his shoulder. You breathe deeply as you look at his chest instead of him, if you did that, he’d definitely be able to hear your quick heartbeats.

“Look at me.” You hear him softly whisper and you do. You do as he say and when you look at him, you wish you didn’t.

How dare he be so beautiful? How dare he look at you with those beautiful crimson eyes? The audacity he has to be so beautiful in anything he does, even in the way he is leading the dance.

“You okay?” He hear him ask and you smile. “Yes, I was just thinking about how we should do two more dances.” You say, lying through your teeth, feeling like you’d rather do this than tell him of your actual thoughts.

“Two more dances?” He asks, almost bewildered. “Yes, or perhaps, three more if you’d like it to be.” You grin at him as he sighs.

“My lady.” He says with almost a stern voice as he tilts his head.

“Your Grace.” You mimicked the way he said but a little more mischievously while also tilting your own head.

“Three it is.” He sighs out while smiling and you grin at him. “No chance to back out, Your Grace, it was you who invited me for a dance after all.” You lightly stick out your tongue to tease him.

He lets out a quiet laugh to hide the way he was looking at your mouth, how moist your lower lip seems to be after you stuck your tongue out at him. To hide the fact that if he leans in a bit closer, he could touch and taste you with his own mouth. He lightly shakes his head and leads you to the final part of the dance before the music changes.

The next two dances was more upbeat and lively, spinning and dancing with the other people in the ballroom before you went back to your original dance partner. As you do, the music changes, to a more intimate and slower tune and you suddenly felt nervous, feeling how your laugh from the previous dances dissipate when you see how Blade is wrapping his arms around your waist. And you know he didn’t fully place his hands on your body, but instead held his own hands and placed his intertwined hands on you.

His arms around your body does something to you. Streams of nervousness and also joy shoots up your body. You feel your hands tremble and almost sweat as you place them on his neck. You avoid looking at him now. Cause this time if you did, he would definitely hear how fast your heartbeat is.

You look at anywhere but his face, this time at his chest again, specifically the white shirt below his black suit jacket. You swear you could see his chest heave up and down quite harshly, his shirt straining against his body. Subconsciously, you slightly leaned your head forward and lightly breathed in his scent. He smells so good, like a man.

And then you still in your actions. Because you felt one of his hands press down on your lower back and lightly push you into him. Softly gasping, you look up at him to find him looking at you. You know that he saw what you’ve done by the way his eyes flickers all over your face before stopping to stare at your lips and you do the same. Your lips slightly part and you see how Blade subtly licks his mouth, his eyes turning almost hazy. You feel yourself almost squeeze his neck and him digging lightly onto your back with his hands.

When the music stops, it’s like you two got out of a trance and looked at each other with surprise evident on your faces. You hastily unclasp your hold on his neck, swearing you could see your handprint on his neck, but brushing it off as something your mind made up to scare you off. You back away from Blade, in turn making him lose his hold on your body, which you so dearly miss though you can sense a phantom lingering feel of his touch on your body.

“Your Grace.” You give a curt bow before walking away, not bothering to let him address you as well.

You walked hastily away, breathing heavily, you ignored your best friend, the princess, who called out for you in worry. You shake your head at her, brushing it off as some kind of problem with the heat and walked past her too before reaching a balcony far away from where the ball was hosted.

Reaching the thick marble fence of the balcony, you grip onto it as you breathe out heavily. You close your eyes as you soak in the summers night cold air then you think about how good Blade smelt, his hands on your body and the way he looked at you with such desire in his eyes. A strange feeling builds up in your abdomen and you try to fan yourself with your hand when you hear steps from behind you. Turning around, there’s the man who’s the object of your thoughts.

“Oh.” Is what you could say. You see Blade close the balcony doors before facing you.

“Care to tell me what that was about?” He asks, if didn’t sound gentle but almost frustrated.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.” You blabber off more apologies then your eyes land on his neck and you do see a faint hint of your hand print there. And you immediately take a step towards him, reaching a hand out to touch his neck.

“My apologies, I shouldn’t have squeezed your neck, I left a mark. I’m so sorry.” Feeling panic build up inside you as you touch his neck, feeling his skin on your fingers tips, a larger hand wraps around your wrist and you feel a hand on your lower back, pulling you in to him again.

“Your Grace.” You softly mumble.

“Yingxing.” He says.

“Yingxing.” You repeat softly, tears welling up in your eyes. “I’m sorry.” You tell him again.

“You’re not at fault at here, I did something too.” His voice is soft as you feel him rub on your lower back. His hold on your wrist loosens as he goes to hold onto your face. You lean your face into his touch, nuzzling into his palm, ignoring the way his breath hitches.

“I don’t know what to make of what transpired between us.” You hear him say and you dryly chuckle. “Me neither, but in my case, it makes sense to me.”

“What do you mean by that?” His brow are raised and he clearly looks confused. You smile sadly at him. You place a hand over his palm that’s holding your face.

“I have feelings for you.” You confess softly. Blades eyes slightly widens in surprise, he didn’t expect to hear that at all.

“Feelings?” He repeats, speechless.

“I’m in love with you, Yingxing.” You blurt out, seeing how he’s still shocked and quiet at your confession. “I don’t know when it started, but it did someday. I catch myself thinking about you a lot, I want a lot more from you. I want to be with-“

“I’m gonna have to refuse.”

“—you.” you finish your sentence then you comprehended his words. “Refuse?” Your heart beats fast this time, but for other reasons. Blade’s hold on your face and back lowers themselves to beside his own body and he looks at you with that stoic look you saw the first time you met him.

“Why? what—“

“I’m not interested in you like that.” He sounds so mean. So mean. He can’t mean that. This is not the Yingxing you got to know. Tears well up in your eyes and you miss the way his hands form into tight fists by his side. Vision blurry, you wipe your eyes but the tears are streaming down still.

“A ‘no’ would’ve sufficed but you had to add the part with me in it.” You chuckle, not being able to believe his words. He sounds rude. You wipe off the remaining tears with a nod to your face and exhale deeply.

“I understand, Your Grace. I’m sorry to have taken up so much of your time. Have a lovely night.” You give him one last polite bow before leaving him alone in the balcony.

Blade stood there alone, staring off at the view in front of him. He’d usually say something about it. With you. But now it looks bleak and gloomy. His hands still in a fist, he feels agonised. But he was honest. Yes, he was honest about his feelings. He does not feel the same way as you. No. He totally does not want something more from you. No no. He does not see a future with you. He definitely doesn’t miss your touch on him. Yes. He was honest.

Very honest.

—

He was lounging on the porch with Jing Yuan. Trying to bask in the heat of the summer, he cannot do that. He hears your laugh, the way your eyes shape into cute moon crescents and the way your nose scrunches up as you throw your head back laughing. His body itches to move towards you but he can’t. He remembers the time he approached you, he was met with a demeanour of yours he did not like. You were so polite, extremely so. Like you two never had conversed before this or that the night in the balcony didn’t happen.

Blade taps his fingers in a fast pace against the armrest of the chair he’s sitting on. He hears Jing Yuan groan from beside him.

“Can you stop that already?” He asks exasperated. “No.” Blade shortly says as his eyes follow your every move, how you run after your best friend in some silly game.

“You know, you could join them if you want to.” He hears Jing Yuan say and he stops his tapping to look at him. “What?” He asks.

“You can join them if you want to, Yingxing.” Jing Yuan repeats what he said. But all he could think of is the way you used to call him ‘Yingxing’ as well but now it’s ‘Your Grace’.

He hates himself for that.

“There’s no need.” He looks away from his friend to look at you once more and begins his tapping once again. He hears Jing Yuan sigh.

“What did you do?”

“Nothing.”

“It’s clearly not nothing by how my wife’s best friend, whose company you clearly enjoy, has been avoiding you like the plague.” Jing Yuan points out. Blade sighs. He can’t hide anything from his friend and his sharp eyes. He wasn’t a general for nothing.

“I rejected her.”

“What?” Jing Yuan almost jumped out of his seat. He looks bewildered at his friend. “You rejected her? I thought—“

“Enough. It is done and I cannot do anything about it now.” Blade cuts his friend off. Clearly knowing what he’s gonna say.

“You’re lying to yourself, Yingxing.” Jing Yuan starts. “There’s clearly ways to fix this.” He adds on.

“What ways? All I’m gonna do is hurt her again and again, and I don’t want that. Hurting her pains me.” Blade retorts with gritting teeth. “I felt agonised the day I refused her feelings. Seeing her cry, oh believe me, those blades my nickname is derived from, I wanted to hit a bullseye on myself more than ten times. It’s awful seeing her hurt. So no, I can’t do anything about this.” Now he’s gripping onto the armrest, feeling envious of the princess who gets to laugh freely with you. His heart aches.

“Yingxing, you’re in love with her, aren’t you?” Jing Yuan asks softly.

“It’s too late.” His voice wavered.

He sees Jing Yuan step up from his chair from his peripheral vision. Then feels his friend pat his shoulder.

“It’s never too late, my friend.”

—

Ever since the day you played a game of tag with your best friend the princess and saw her husband approach you two, leaving Blade alone. It’s like something switched in Blade’s brain.

He’s been there every time you needed help. Or anything of that sort. Small simplistic stuff like dropping your handkerchief, he’s there to pick it up and give you his instead of making you use your dirty handkerchief. But you refused that.

Or when you were going down the stairs and held up your dress but almost tripped, he was there to catch you. Though if you tripped, you’d land on grass not stone. You’d be fine.

So what’s wrong with him?

Just now, he’s ordering a dessert from the servant, your favorite, during an outing with the princess and the prince. You look at your best friend confused with your hands in a fist. She knows what happened, so all she does is shaking her head lightly while patting your fist softly. “It’s okay, just a dessert.” She had whispered.

It’s infuriating. It’s like he’s completely ignoring the wordless request of space you asked of him.

After a luncheon one day, you took a walk in the park with the princess.

“It’s hard to ignore him.” You sigh. The princess giggles. You look at her irritated. “I didn’t know my suffering was so fun to you, Your Highness.” You poke at her side making her giggle again.

“Oh it’s not like that, stop it!” She giggles still. “But why not give him a chance? He’s clearly trying to mend the pain he caused.” The princess softly said. You shake your head.

“There’s no point. He clearly said he is not interested in me. Me.” You point out. His words still hurt to this day. He had to add in the ‘you’.

“What if he has a reason. Did you ask him?” At her words, you quiet down. You shake your head lightly. “No I didn’t, but that doesn’t give him an excuse to hurt me like that.” You pout. You feel your best friend gently pat your cheek.

“He’s invited us over to Stellaron for a weekend, so maybe have a talk with him then, alright?” You sigh but nod anyway. Your best friend does have a point. Ignoring the man and acting like he’s nothing but just a Duke to you, won’t do any good. It’s just leaving the mess to slowly get bigger and bigger.

Switching to a different topic than just crying over a man who rejected you, you speak of something with the princess when you suddenly feel how the wind got so strong it blew your hat off your head, making it fly away. Your best friend gasps and you giggle as you run to retrieve it.

Then it dropped on the grassy ground near someone’s shoes and as you look up to see who it is, it’s Blade. The man who rejected you. Feeling your giggles and smile vanish, you see him pick up your hat for you.

“My lady.” He lightly bows his head. You nod yours. “Your Grace.” You gently say. You see him look at your hat before looking at you, then he hands it over. Taking it from him, you don’t miss the way your fingers brushed against each other and you held your breath before letting it out slightly when you put the hat on your head.

“Thank you. Have a nice day, Your Grace.” You give him a curt smile, feeling your heart ache as you walked away. Unbeknownst to you, the man who rejected your love for him, stared at your form longingly with an ache in his own heart. Little did you know, he saw your smile drop and your giggle vanish as soon as you saw him. He felt like his soul got crushed in pieces by a hammer and that same hammer crushed the pieces into more pieces.

To think he used to make you smile despite his stoic demeanour, the way a beautiful smile lightened up your lovely face and a beautiful laugh escape your pretty mouth. Just for it to turn polite like he was any other man of polite society.

He wasn’t honest after all.

—

Arriving at the Stellaron mansion after a day ride in the carriage, you’re exhausted. You step out from the carriage with the help of your footman. You walk towards the carriage your best friend and her husband is sitting in. As soon as you arrive, they walk out. You hastily grab onto your best friends arm as she startled in surprise.

“Sorry but I can’t walk up alone.” You whisper to her and she giggles. You hear Jing Yuan lightly groan.

“And now I can’t have my wife to myself.” He sighs in disappointment. You see your best friend swat Jing Yuan shoulder before he grabs her hand to gently place a kiss atop her gloved knuckles.

Then you look up and see Blade at the top of the stairs at the entry to his mansion. He looks good. So good, the suns beaming down on his hair beautifully, showcasing his blue hair. He walks down the stairs to greet us all.

“Your highnesses, welcome to the Stellaron mansion.” Blade bows curtly to Jing Yuan and the princess. They thank equally as grateful then Blade’s eyes lands on you. Heartbeat quickens in pace as usual in any proximity with that man, especially when he looks at you.

“My lady, I hope you enjoy your stay here once more.” He walks towards you, taking your gloved hand in his own, pressing a soft kiss atop your knuckles. Your breath hitches and you give an awkward smile, unbeknownst to how Blade’s hand stretched after he let go.

“I shall, Your Grace. Thank you for extending the invitation to me.” You give a curt nod and he smiles at you.

“Of course.” His eye lingered on you for far too long, you’d think he wanted to say something more but he looked away.

Then he leads you all up the stairs and you walk behind the men with your best friend, arm looped in with hers.

“Oh that man is enamoured with you.” You hear your best friend whisper. You frown at her. “No he isn’t, stop putting ideas in my head.” You shake your head and she giggles. “Oh so you have thought the same.” She does a ‘ohhh’ sound as she teases you and you just sigh at her.

When you arrive in the guest bedroom, you flop down on the bed and stare up at the wall. The maids in the bedroom arrange your suitcases and a bath. You tap your fingers on the mattress pondering on how to approach Blade and talk about, no, more like discuss with him. In a civil proper manner.

Then you sigh, not coming up with any ideas. Then you hear a knock on the door and you tell the maids you take care of it. When you open the door, you lightly get surprised.

“Your Grace.” You say breathily, not expecting him to be there. It’s as if he knew you were thinking about him.

“Just coming to ask if the bedrooms alright and to your liking.” Blade asks, his face looking expectant and you almost wanted to burst out into laughter but decided to spare your laugh for him.

“Oh yes, it is fine. Very fine indeed!” You tell him as politely as you could but probably failed miserably. There was a hint of amusement in his eyes as he nods his head. “Then I’m glad.” Is he all he says before he turns quiet and his gaze linger on you once more. It’s quite worrying, the only time he did this was the day you met him for the first time. But now he’s staring at you. Getting a little conscious, you let out an awkward chuckle.

“Was there anything else, Your Grace?” You ask him and you see how his face winces. You don’t know what for but you can’t be bothered to ask even if you want to.

“Oh? Oh. No, nothing.” Is not what he wanted to say. He wanted to ask if you wanted to take a promenade with him, show you the beautiful lake at the back garden of the mansion and the pretty swans swimming around or the lotus flowers blooming. His hands that’s placed behind his back is tightened into frustrated fists and when he sees you give him an awkward smile, he just can’t stand it. So he sighs.

He sighed. And you don’t know what to make of it. Growing almost annoyed at his sudden weird behaviour, you nod your head at him.

“Then I see you at dinner, Your Grace.” And you shut the door. Standing against the door, exasperated, you let out a deep exhale before you see how the maids are looking at you.

“Does the Duke always act like this?” You ask, quite curious as to what they would say. They looked amongst themselves, not sure if they should say it when one of them shook their head.

“It’s the first time actually, My Lady.” She said and you nod your head.

“It’s quite weird.” You mutter and the maids nod their heads as well.

“The Duke doesn’t like to stare, but he does always start a conversation with us to not make the current circumstances awkward.” A maid tells you and the other agreed with her.

“So he does have the ability to talk and not just stare.” You let out a breathy sound.

“The Duke has been the most gracious to all of us, My Lady. And he’s also never brought a lady here, not even chaperoned, which is kind of a wonder in itself.” And they all agreed in unison once more.

At the last bit of information, questions swirl in your head. Then no wonder, he’s never been seen by society much at all. Those who do catch him, are very few. Then he stayed in Xianzhou for far longer than he intended. Then one wonders why he did just that.

—

Putting on your necklace as a finishing touch, you realize you’re a few minutes late to dinner. Feeling embarrassed for having taking so long, you left your bedroom and hurriedly went downstairs. A servant lead you to the dining room. And when you arrived, the table was set quite closely and it fit four people just fine.

“Oh here you are!” You hear your best friend chime in and you let out an embarrassed giggle. “So sorry for the tardiness.” You say as a servant helps you onto your chair. You say a quick grateful thank you before looking at the men at the table and greeting them as well.

Jing Yuan greets back, complimenting how your gown suits you just finely while your best friend agreed wholeheartedly. Feeling bashful at their sincere compliments, you cover your mouth smiling then looking up to see Blade looking at you.

Or admiring you if you looked properly. It probably is just what your best friend said. He is enamoured with you because he clearly looks like it right now. Heat spreads around your body and your hands starts feel a bit sweaty.

“You do look beautiful, my lady. I agree with your friends here.” No idea on how to react to that, all you could do was smile at him and say a ‘thank you’ while your heart feels like it’s gonna run out of its place in your ribcage than beat out of it.

The food got placed on the table and in the meanwhile, you made eye contact with your best friend and she gave you a knowing look and mouths a ‘told you so’ while you roll your eyes at her which in turn makes her giggle, catching the attention of her husband.

Dinner went smoothly, the conversations was pleasant. And the topic of how the princess caught her husband in her father’s, the king, clutches was such a heartwarming story. After dinner, all four of you got to the sitting room and hung around for a little until the princess and prince decided to retire for the night.

As soon as they decided to do so, you decided to take the moment to leave as well, feeling nervous in Blade’s presence.

“I shall retire-“ you feel someone lightly hold onto your fingers from behind and your first instinct was to hold his hand back but denied yourself to do so.

“Wait.” His voice was soft from behind you and desperate. You turn to face him and retrieve your hand back from his hold, which he furrow his brows at, like it’s agonising to not hold you.

“Do you perhaps wanna take a walk?” He sounds nervous, which is unlike him. You tilt your head to hide your nervousness and instead look confused. “It’s pretty late, Your Grace.” You say simply and he gives a slight smile, nodding his head.

“Yeah you’re right, but do you want to? Maybe we could—“ he ponders off on what to say next. “—perhaps talk?” He finishes off and you looked him slightly surprised but found yourself accepting his offer to walk.

—

He took you to the back of the garden, which was stunning even in the night. You can’t help but think to come back here in the morning, knowing it’d be double the beauty in daytime.

You managed to catch a bloomed lotus flower at the lake and couldn’t help but point it out to Blade, who was walking behind you all in silence.

“It’s so beautiful.” You say as you crouch down and look at the pretty flower, not bothering to look at Blade. “Indeed it is.” Which in turn made you miss the way he looked at you as he agreed at your statement.

You’re absolutely radiant in the moonlight, your gown looks like diamonds the way it’s sparkling in the dark. As you stand and continue walking ahead, your body looks like it’d fit perfectly in Blade’s arms. The way you gently fiddle with your hands as you walk, makes Blade’s own hands itch to hold them so you could fiddle with his hands than your own. Keep yourself occupied with him.

Under the moonlight, Blade sees you look up at the sky, at the moon with a small serene smile on your face. And that’s when he saw the lone stray of hair that fell out of place from your hairdo. Not wasting a chance, he reached his hand out and carefully placed it behind your ear then twirled it around your hairdo. All the while, he did not miss how your body was still in shock.

“What are you doing?” You ask, nervously but deeply.

“I missed you.” He ignores your question, which infuriates you. You harshly turn your head to look at him with furrowed brows and an annoyed expression.

“What do you think you’re doing, Your Grace?” You ask once again and Blade sighs. “I’m fixing your hair.” He says your name at the end and you clutch your dress with your own hands.

“It didn’t need fixing.” You simply say and walk away.

“Please, stop walking away from me.” He says from behind you, pleading for you to stop. You let out a humourless laugh but continue to walk. “Do give me a reason as to why I should stop walking, Your Grace. Maybe then I shall stop doing so.” You retort back.

But your body harshly gets turned around by how Blade grabbed your arm and pulled you against his body.

“Don’t do this to me.” You push at his chest but it’s to no avail, he’s much stronger than you. Somehow, he was quick enough to place his arms around your body and keep you caged in his arms. Maybe you’d appreciate it months ago, but you don’t do it now. It’s agonizing.

“Please listen to me. You at least owe me that.” He says and you scoff. “I don’t owe you anything whatsoever.” You glare at him, holding back tears. You feel his hands trail up your back to cup your face. As if it’s a pure instinct, your body nuzzles into his touch and you hate how much you love this. How much you love and miss his touch on you.

“I know. You’re right. You don’t owe me anything.”

“Then let go of me.” You tell him and he shakes his head.

“I already did that once and I won’t do it again.”

“What’s so different this time, Your Grace? You sound like you might return my feelings this time.” At your words, he stills. As if in a moment of clarity. You look at him and scoff once more. Taking the moment of his stillness, you push him and walk away.

“Leave me alone. I know that face. That’s the exact same face you did the day at the balcony. I’ve been refused once by you, can’t have it happen once more, can we?” You huff out a laugh, finding it absolutely ridiculous. Refused by the same man, twice? Maybe you should take a dive into the lake, it’s definitely still cold. As you were nearing the mansion, it starts to rain. About to hurry in, Blade grabs you by the arm again.

“Why don’t you just listen to me?” He asks loudly over the pouring harsh rain. His wet hair sticking to his skin and the raindrops streaming down his face.

“Last time I did that, you said you were not interested in me like that!” You yell from over the rain. “I'd lose it if I get rejected by you once again, Your Grace. So no, I won’t listen.”

“Then let me explain, please I beg you.” His grip on your arm was tight, you swear you’d get a bruise by it my morning. “Then explain yourself.” You tell him.

He was gonna speak up, but then he sees you shiver. And he sees how strongly he’s holding onto your arm and he lets go immediately. He instantly takes his suit jacket off and places it around your body.

“I’m fine, Your Grace. The mansion is just a few meters away.” He shakes his head, refusing to heed your words. You sigh out, letting him do what he wants this time. When he properly put the jacket around you, even tied the arms into a knot as if it would fall off anytime.

“Let’s get back inside, you’re shivering.” He says and grabs your hand. You stumbled just a few steps as you walked. Then just a few second later, you were up in the air, facing the back garden and smelling the familiar scent of Blade’s natural scent and in his arms. He’s carrying you. Then you feel him tuck you against his chest as if to shield you from the rain even if you’re already soaked through.

Arriving inside the mansion, you hear the surprised and worried voices of the servants and Blade ordering them to prepare a warm bath for you. All while he strides up the stairs, with you still in his arms. And all you could do was hold onto him as if he was your safety net. At some point you found yourself almost burrowing your head onto his chest, feeling safe and content in his arms, his scent surrounding all your senses.

Then you were put on a chair in your guest bedroom. The servants hurriedly prepared the bath. One gave you a blanket then hurried to help her colleagues prepare the bath. You didn’t realize that Blade was still in the room when he had spoken up.

“You may leave this room, I’ll take care her.” At their dukes surprising orders, all the servants could do was bow their head and dismiss themselves.

Then as you sit on the chair, you’re ignoring him. But he knows just how to make you look at him. So he does that. He kneels in front of you, which does make you turn and look at him confused.

“What are you doing?” You ask but lightly gasp when you feel him grasp your leg gently.

When he slides your soaked dress up your legs, you feel extra conscious of your close proximity. He stops sliding your dress up when he reaches the hem of your stockings. Heavy breaths escapes your mouth and your hands tremble on your lap.

“Hold onto your dress, my love.” He softly says, lightly startling at the name he used for you but you did what he said nonetheless. Dress now bunched up and held in place by you, your stocking covered legs are on full display. This act feels intimate to you and it is for sure intimate. But knowing how he feels about you, you don’t know what to make of this. Should you be happy he’s giving signs that he care for you or should you beat yourself up over the fact this may be an act of kindness, not cause he may return your feelings.

He places your heel clad feet on his knee, unties the string connected to your shoes. He looks at you time to time and sees you breathe heavily, your chest rising up and down with a lovely expression. Your eyes are on him, lips parted in shock and the expression tells him you’re surprised to see him do this. Have him touch you. To see the Duke of Stellaron on his knees, helping you. Though you two are of the same social standing. You’re two unmarried people in a room alone together without a chaperone.

He takes your heel off your foot and you can feel his clothed knee even through your stocking. You clutch onto your dress on your lap as you see him touch your stocking softly. Gentle as if you’re a precious doll. Your heart beats fast but it aches. How can he do this after the rejection. After the arguing.

Your breath hitches when you feel him touch the hem of your stocking and slowly slides it down your bare leg. You grab onto his hand midway, shaking your head.

“Why are you doing this?” You softly ask again. He shakes his head. “If you stay in those soaked clothes a moment more, you will catch a fever. So I’m helping you out.” At his words, you turn speechless.

He manages to slip down the stocking and gently puts it on the armrest of the chair you’re sitting on. Thinking about his words and how they’re bothering you, you feel him touch your bare leg, sliding a finger up and down your skin as if he’s mesmerized. You turn quiet and watch him still. He’s confusing. Extremely so.

To work on the other stocking, he gotta grab your other leg. Blade feels happy doing this. Helping you out. The thought of you catching a fever itches at his skin. He doesn’t like the thought of you feverish and in pain. Then if you do catch a fever, you’d have to stay in this mansion until you get better. That thought doesn’t seem so bad to Blade.

Grabbing your other leg, the feel of your bare skin on his fingertips is entrancing. Feeling how your stocking slide down your pretty bare leg and revealing more of your skin, it makes his thoughts wander further and further. Further to were those legs lead up to. Up to your thighs and if he just spread your legs a little and bunched up your dress on your lap, he’d see the apex of your thighs and he almost felt lightheaded. Your scoff burst his little thought bubble of you. He looks up as he finally slid down the entire stocking of your leg.

“Helping me out, you said.” You say, scoffing once again. “It’s ironic, Your Grace.” To hear you address him like and not by his name, he physically flinched.

“You aren’t helping anything at all. Wasn’t our argument just a few moment ago not helping?” You ask him, astonished.

“You’ve been acting so weird ever since the day you rejected me. Your Grace, it’s not been a week since that day, it’s been months. Surely you have seen how you’ve behaved towards me.”

“You’re speaking as if I’ve acted in an evil manner towards you.” He says almost offended and you let out a humorless laugh.

“You don’t find it evil how you been at my beck and call, doing things a man who courts someone does after rejecting me evil?” At your words, his heart shattered. About to speak up, you beat him to it.

“It hurts.” He sees your eyes glisten up in tears as your voice wavers. “It hurts so much, here.” You place your hand at the spot of your heart. His hands trembles, itching to touch you, to hold you.

“I’ve given you my bare heart just for you to refuse it, then now you’re behaving as if you never rejected me.” Tears fall down your face, Blade hates seeing you cry like that. How many times he’s probably done that, he doesn’t wanna think about it.

“Why did you reject me?” You ask and Blade stands on his knees and holds your face gently. He wipes your tears off with his thumb.

“I have no other reasons than just that I don’t want to be in a relationship. I can’t. I’m scared.” His answer infuriates you, but at least he’s honest. Brutally so. You lightly scoff though there’s tears streaming down your face.

“Then why still make me think you might feel the same after the way you’ve behaved? Why give me mixed signals?”

“Because I realized too late.” His words now confusing you. Realizing too late about what? You see how his eyes flicker all over your face and how his grip on your head feels almost rough. “Realized what?” You ask, confused.

“That I love you. I realized too late that the moment you smiled at me you’ve had my heart ever since. I still loved you the day I rejected you. That’s what I realized too late about.” You’re speechless. Not knowing what else to say, you feel his thumbs rub your cheeks gently, he flashes you a sad smile.

“It was stupid of me to do that. The day you walked away from me after almost losing your hat, that’s when I knew.”

“How?”

“Because at that moment, I didn’t make you happy. Your lovely smile didn’t appear on your pretty face. Your eyes didn’t almost glimmer in joy. The thought of you unhappy, it ate me up from the inside.” His voice is wavering and you feel his hand on your face shake.

“I wanted to run after you that day at the balcony, but I thought it was too late. There was no way to mend what I had caused.” His eyes well up in tears and you look at him stunned.

“I’m so sorry. I hurt you so much, I shouldn’t have said i wasn’t interested in you. Because I am. Every day I imagine a life with you, every day I long to touch you, to hold your body in my arms and cage you in and keep you to myself. Everyday I want to see you smile and hear your pretty laughs. A day without you, it was tormenting me.” A few tears fell down his face and you immediately go to wipe it off.

“If you had just said that to me that day at the balcony, we wouldn’t have to do this.” You tell him and Blade looks at you sadly, truly regretful.

“I’m so sorry, baby, I shouldn’t have said those awful words to you.” He shakes his head as he earnestly looks into your eyes, truly apologetic. “I am in love with you, most ardently. A day without you is torture, it’s way worse than the Mara that’s been found lately at Xianzhou.” He bemoaned, which makes a tiny giggle leave your mouth. You see how Blade’s eyes lightens up at the sound, watching your mouth expecting more of that sound to come out.

Him staring so shamelessly at your lips, has you flustered and you were about remove your hands from face when Blade, in a haste, out his own on top of yours. He shakes his head, looking defeated.

“Don’t leave, please?” He pleads and your heart races. “I’m not gonna leave, I just felt nervous at the way you were staring at me like that.” You mumble out and Blade’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Why are you staring at me so much anyway? And you always sigh too.” You lightly pout and Blade flashes you a bashful smile.

“Because you’re bewitching. One look at you, it gets me in a trance.” He explains. “But that don’t explain the sigh.” You try to ignore the fluttery mess of your heart at his honest confession of his staring.

“Because it’s absolutely outstanding that someone as enchanting as you is walking on this earth, with mere mortals.” He says and you giggle. “That sounds ridiculous, Yingxing.” You shake your head at his silly words. As you shook your head, you look down at your lap and see how Blade is situated in between your thighs. The position looks quite…scandalous. Your bare legs don’t help it either.

“I love it when you call me that.” He tells you and you nod your head. “Feels better to hear that than my title.” He adds on and you chuckle.

“Now that I know, I might call you that if you wrong me again.” You tease, saying the words in a lighthearted way but Blade turned serious.

“I will never wrong you again, my love. I stand by that promise.” He is saying it like it’s some knightly honour, which is endearing. “That’s impossible, we’re bound to come to disagreement but we shall talk it out than leave it be.” You tell him. He nods his head in agreement.

“Wronging you is something I stand by not ever doing again.” That was final and his sincerity makes you shy.

“The water is getting cold, the servants stressed to prepare this for me.” You shyly mutter out and Blade nods his head. He leans his head in to nuzzle his nose against yours. As Blade was about to pull away, he sees how he’s seated inbetween your thighs and he gulps on air.

You also saw where his eyes went and you feel how his hands moves down to your thighs. As if dazed, he places his bare palms on your skin and you lightly sigh at the touch. As he runs his hands up and down your thighs, he traces his nose down below your face, when he reaches your neck he breathes in your scent there. “You smell heavenly, my love. I can’t get enough of it.” You hear him groan against your neck as his hands squeeze your thighs and your hands clutch onto his shoulders.

“Yingxing, the water.” You manage to breath out and Blade immediately pulls away. His face is flushed and his hair a mess. You let to go off your hold on his shoulders.

“You’re right, I shall leave you alone as you bathe. Call for me when you’re done, yeah?” He’s so gentle. He’s now softly holding your neck and strokes his noses against your own before pressing a kiss on your forehead. His actions leaving you completely stunned, all you could do was nod and you were alone in the room.

You took your gown off and entered your peach scented bath. Then you remembered Blade’s confession, his touches and the way he caressed your legs. You touch your legs as if remembering his touch then you feel embarrassed before soaking your entire body in the bathtub.

—

Putting on a nightgown after your bath. You pace around the room for a moment. Debating on if you should go sleep and pretend to forget Blade told you to call for him. Then how can you call for him anyhow? You’d have to go to his bedroom personally.

At that thought, you get a sudden realization and your body flushes in warmth. Going to his bedroom at night feels nerve racking but at the thought of being alone with him, makes you feel elated.

You were tiptoeing outside your room, mindful of your surroundings but somehow not catching there was a door ajar, seeing what you’re doing. As you were walking down the hall barefooted, you realized you don’t know where his bedroom is. You sigh to yourself for your stupidity and was about to walk away when you hear footsteps from down the hall.

A tall figure emerges and your eyes lightens in joy at seeing Blade.

“Hi.” You softly whisper and he smiles at you like you hold the world. “Hi.” He greets you back and softly takes your hand in his.

“Remembered there’s no way for you to call for me than going to my bedroom, so I came to check up on you.” He whispers to you and you muffle your giggle with your unoccupied hand, nodding in agreement.

“Come, let’s go back.” He says, dragging you to the direction your bedroom is. You stand put, not following along. As Blade sees what you’re doing, he turns confused but when he sees you shake your head slightly when placing your other hand over your intertwined ones, he understood.

—

He gently leads you into his bedroom and you feel all sorts of emotions at once. You see him light the candle by his desk then turns around to face you. The room being lit by only the candle with you two in it, your heart definitely skipped out of its place.

Blade looking at you, it’s like his crimson eyes felt darker in the candlelit room and you decided to do anything else than look at the man.

“So…” you start off as you walk towards his bookshelves in the room, pretending to examine the titles. “You read books!” You chime awkwardly and Blade looks at you amused.

“I do, I’ve told you that before, my love.” He softly tells you as he starts to approach you. Your widens and you quickly speak up.

“No, stop right there!” You exclaim then quickly cover your mouth for being too loud. Blade stops walking instantly, confused as to why you told him to stay there.

“I—why?” He tilts his head and your breath feels almost like it’s staggering.

“It’s the proximity.” You tell him.

“Proximity?”

“Yes.” You nod your head.

“Or is it me?” Blade sees your lips part in surprise before you slightly nod your head. His heart flutters at the thought of you being flustered in his closeness. He takes a step forward and he sees you back slowly against the bookshelf, he smiles at the sight.

When he got close to you, finally, he softly tugs on your hands before clasping them together with his own. He brings them to his lips, kisses the top of your fingers gently, all while keeping an eye contact with you. Your breath staggers and you wet your lower lip.

“I was honest in everything I said today.” He mumbles against your hand and your widens. He smiles again. “I know it’s hard to believe me after I rejected you so cruelly that day.” You shake your head.

“I do believe you.” You softly mutter, loving the way he kisses your fingertips. “I’m happy that you do.” He says before he unclasps your hands to cup your face. He backs you against the bookshelf, making you tilt your head to look at him. He leans down, pressing his forehead against yours.

“I wanted to kiss you since our last dance.” He mumbles and you sigh as you rub your nose against his. “Do you still want to?” You shyly ask and he chuckles.

“Oh my love, such an obvious question you’re asking me.” He nuzzles his nose against your cheek before you feel his mouth pressing open mouthed kisses on your face except the place you want them to press down against.

“Then kiss me.” You whisper before you felt a pair of soft lips upon yours. You sigh into the kiss as you trail your hands up over his firm chest to hold him by his neck.

His lips moves so softly against yours but his grip your face is tight and desperate. When you feel his tongue in your mouth, you gasp into the kiss at the same time as you squeeze his neck. He takes the moment to nibble on your lower lip as his hands moves down your back to place themselves them on your waist, his fingertips close to your backside.

Then he takes your mouth in another kiss, teeth clashing against each other in a desperate and hungry attempt to kiss deeper and deeper. He continues to kiss you as if he hasn’t had enough until you had to pull away, breathless. Blade is panting himself but can’t stop himself from reaching your mouth again and press kisses on the corner of your mouth down to your jaw to your pulse point, all of that making your grip on his neck tighten and soft moans leaving your lips.

“So this is how it feels to kiss you?” You hear him breathe out, chest heaving up and down. You let out a small chuckle. Blade noses the spot between your neck and shoulder, before trailing chaste kisses down your throat to your collarbone, breathing in your scent. All while grabbing onto your thighs, as if in reflex, you pull your thighs up and he automatically lifts you and pins you against the bookshelves. His hands are now below the material of your nightgown and you can’t stop the constant sighs and soft moans that escapes your mouth with the way he’s pressing kisses on your skin.

As you wrap your thighs around his lithe waist, you feel Blade’s hands close to the inner parts of your thighs and you still in surprise. Your hands reflexively gently push his chest and he stops his kisses on your skin.

Blade sees your widened eyes and he feels where his hands are wandered and his own eyes widens as well.

“I wasn’t supposed to go that far.” He says almost if he got caught for committing a very heinous crime. You lightly shake your head, your hands clutch onto his shirt on his chest.

“No, it’s okay. I was just…shocked. That’s all.” You reassure him softly and he nods.

“I won’t do anything you won’t like.” You hear Blade say and you smile at him, genuinely. Your heart feels full of love for him. When Blade sees you smile at him so lovingly, he can’t help but kiss you on the mouth for a few moments more.

“You haven’t done anything I’ve disliked.” You mutter against his mouth during the kiss. You feel Blade smile against your lips, then you feel his hands that are still on your thighs, squeeze you as if he liked the words you just said.

You feel how your back isn’t pressed against the bookshelf anymore, but rather pressing against nothing, so you immediately wrap your arms around his neck. Then you realize Blade is walking with you in his arms, towards the bed. Then you lightly flop down on the mattress from when Blade gently released you.

When Blade sees your hair splattered across his pillows, your nightgown sliding up your thighs with your legs lightly crossed. And with the way you look up at him with such pretty eyes, he loves it. He loves the sight of you on his bed, at his mercy and now in between his arms as he caged you in on the bed.

Then he kisses you all over your face in a haste, making giggles and bunch of soft ‘stop, it tickles’ go past your pretty mouth. He loves this too. Being alone with you, having you all to himself as he gets to press his mouth against anywhere on your soft body. And when he feels you hold his shoulders and your thighs wrapped around him, he feels at ease and fulfilled. Life couldn’t get any better than this.

“I love you.” You hear him say. His voice so soft and gentle, so in love and awe to be able to say these three words to you. You heart just cannot stop beating faster and faster, body heating up even more at his words. You softly nod your head, then you feel him lean down to nuzzle his nose against yours, muttering the three words again and again.

“I love you.” You tell him back then he kisses you on the mouth, saying ‘i love you’ with the way his lips moves against yours leisurely and in unbridled joy.

—

“It’s okay, you can leave it here.” You hear muffled voices from beneath the blanket and you feel the sun beams on your face. You snuggle up closer to the blanket, sighing in content at the familiar scent of Blade on the blanket. You smile sleepily against the material before you feel the bed dip beside you. You turn around and see Blade look down at you with such a soft way in his eyes, full of love.

If it was possible for your body to flush in warmth all the time around this man, your body would be constantly in that state.

“Good morning, my dove.” He leans down to press a kiss on your forehead. You pout and shake your head, puckering your lips and you hear Blade giggle. Then you feel his mouth upon yours and you smile into the kiss. Your arms go around his neck and you push his entire upper body on yourself, feeling his entire weight on your body but you love it even though he’s heavy.

“Good morning, Yingxing.” Blade can't get enough of the way his name leaves your lips. The way you say it, he loves it. The day he won’t hear his name past your mouth, he’s a dead man.

“Let’s get up, it’s morning and there’s breakfast for you.” You nod your head at his words and you feel his hands on your hips before he moves you up against the headboard of the bed and makes you sit up straight. You giggle at the way he manhandled you and he presses a soft kiss on your mouth.

“Did you sleep well?” You ask as he hands you a sandwich. He nods his head as he softly runs his hand down your hair.

“I missed out on a lot of the times you weren’t asleep in my arms.” He grins as you giggle, feeling him put a strand of hair behind your ear. “Don’t tell me you stared at me as I slept.” You look suspiciously at him and he puts his hands up as if he got caught.

“You can’t blame me, you look absolutely beautiful as you sleep.” He tells you. You pout. “I drool when I sleep.” Blade chuckles. “Then I be there to wipe it off for you if you do.”

Your heart flutters at his words and you shake your head embarrassedly. “You and your silly words.” You tell him as you take the last piece of sandwich in your mouth. Blade rubs your mouth, wiping off crumbs then eats the little crumb himself.

“Only you will hear those silly words, my love.” He tells you and you playfully groan. “Oh no, that’s torture.” You cover your face as you grin. You hear Blade laugh as he then climbs up on the bed to hover over you on the bed.

“Oh, then this won’t be torture then?” He asks. And you uncover your face, wondering what he means. “What won’t be?” You ask him back.

Then he kisses you.

Oh this is definitely not torture.

—

Your arm were looped in with your best friends as you two take a stroll in the back garden of the Stellaron Mansion.

“So, what’d I tell you?” You hear your best friend chime in amusedly and you lightly roll your eyes. “That he was enamoured with me.” You repeat her words and she nods, proud of herself.

“And he most certainly is, he can’t stop looking at you ever since you two got out from his bedroom.” She emphasised ‘his’ which makes your eyes get big and you look at her surprised.

“You knew?!” You almost shriek and she giggles. “I saw you two at night, tiptoeing and whispering around then he dragged you to his bedroom.” The way she described it is funny to you, so you can’t help the laugh that escapes your mouth.

“He didn’t drag me. I was the one who asked him to take me there.” You tell her and your best friend oh’s entertained and you giggle at her antics.

“I didn’t know you had it in you.” She lightly pushes your shoulder and you shrug your shoulders playfully. “Well, I did learn from the best, didn’t I?” You whisper to her and the princess laughs. If one has to know, your best friend the princess, sneaked down to her husband, former bodyguard of hers, bedroom after a ball.

“Alright, let’s go back, I can feel Bladie’s stare on us for millions away.” Your best friend says and you giggle. Because he is indeed looking your way. When you see him, you wave and he waved back. He is so endearing.

—

“I will court you properly and ask for your hand once we get back to Xianzhou. How does that sound, my dove?” You hear Blade ask from below the steps to the carriage.

“I love it.” You smile at him as he takes your hand in his and kisses your knuckles softly. He wished he kissed you on the mouth but with so many watching, he decided to spare it for another time.

As he lets go off your hand, you take your fan and unravel it.

“Come closer.” You whisper to him, Blade looks confused then he feels you grab by his collar before covering the view of your faces to everyone with the fan. Then he feels your soft lips on top of his and he smiles. He feels most wholeheartedly happy. You giggle against his mouth when he leans back in to kiss you more when you lean away.

“Okay, no more.” You tell him and he lightly pouts, looking saddened and you pat your hand against his cheek.

“You get to kiss me as much as you want once I’m your wife.” At the mention of you being his wife, his eyes lightens up. He takes a step closer to the carriage.

“And I’m your husband.” He whispers before pressing one last kiss on your mouth, making you lightly gasp and him grin happily.

To think you’d make such a stoic man get so soft around you, is astonishing but you love it.

—

phew! thanks for reading it this far, hopefully you liked it ><

please leave a like and reblog if you did, that would be most appreciated! <3

don’t stop talking about what’s happening

pairing: dr. ratio x gender neutral reader

contains: angst, insecurities, friends to ???, open ended, mutual (?) pining, banter (?), i tried to make their dialogue lighthearted, reader is a writer/author in this, you call him veritas alot

synopsis: a friend, that's all you'll ever be to him.

word count: 1.9k

a/n: wrote from 400 to almost 2k in one night hehe, i wanted to atleast update my other event so i did. and if i get asked if this has part two uhm, i WILL think about it :D based on a true story (aka im not sure if i like one of my guy friends)

part of the comeback festa

Meeting Veritas Ratio was one of the best things that happened to you.

He was a bit eccentric, really intimidating and you're still unsure why both of you became friends so easily.

You liked different things, and people would scoff or laugh at you when you told them that the scary Dr. Ratio was your dearest friend.

When you had free time, you'd meet with one another and discuss the happenings of the week. He'd tell you about the various research topics he delved into or the interesting students he spotted on his lecture.

Meanwhile, you'd tell him about the activities you found yourself in when gathering inspiration for a novel. And Veritas Ratio must not look like he's interested - oh, but he is invested whenever you recount the flowery ideas that came to you that day.

And it was inevitable that you saw the man as not only your dearest friend, but someone you fell in love with.

It was a simple affair really, you'd think that the Veritas Ratio was hard to love yet it was easier than taking a breath of fresh air. He may look cold on the outside yet when you talk to him- you undeniably feel warm.

Other people won't notice it but you do. You know how much he values teaching his students because the way he animatedly “rants” about his students - you could see the sparkle in his eyes, that desire to impart knowledge to those who can't do the same as him.

The more you stare into his mesmerizing eyes or imagine the way you'd card your fingers through his hair - you lay awake in your bed, wishing that Veritas Ratio would feel the same for you.

“You look distressed, is something troubling you?” He asks out of nowhere when you were eating lunch together.

It was a bit late for lunch yet he still found time to eat with you, and he even brought the foods you wanted to try for a long time. 

“Ah…me? It's about my novel. I'm getting stuck on the plot and whatnot.” You say, eyes flitting away from his inquisitive gaze.

“Oh, care to tell me about it? I could even offer my input.”

It wasn't even said in romantic intent yet your heart races loudly in your chest.

“It's a short one this time. The protagonist found themselves falling for their longtime friend but can't say it for fear of rejection or ruining the friendship.”

After voicing it out, you're seriously considering the planet to swallow you whole because isn't that a bit too obvious?

“What's got you stuck then? I'm quite sure you are well versed in this type of storyline, are you not?” He tells you with an eyebrow raise.

You can't speak further, in fear of revealing your true feelings to the man before you. And so you swallow your words and laugh.

“You're right…”

In the months that follow, you're hoping Veritas hadn't noticed a single thing amiss with how you're acting.

You also hope most of your excuses are credible and don't seem as if you're avoiding him. You've got to thank some of your colleagues for barging in on some of them, if not then this whole charade would have been discovered long ago.

Veritas Ratio is very observant, he won't talk much and it's subtle. You get surprised when he mentions something out of the blue and you realize it's those you've said when you think he wasn't listening.

And when another friend of yours comes to you and starts talking, you aren't worried…well for the meanwhile.

“I heard you liked someone.” She said, clinging on your arm and gushing. She's the type that wants to be updated on all the latest gossip and you would have loved to listen if Veritas wasn't a few feet away.

He could rattle your ear off about bringing noisy coworkers in his ‘safe space’ even when you're in public. You gaze over to him and see that he isn't listening and is focusing on his book.

“Where’d you hear that?” Pulling away from her, you asked - hoping that she would back off after having been entertained.

“That doesn't matter! What matters is who you like!”

You do not like where this is going.

And from your peripheral, Veritas raises his head - it looks as if he's disinterested or annoyed even, yet he doesn't try to push away the source of noise.

“I heard it's a friend of yours.”

This is really bad.

“I'm not sure where you've heard of that, but it isn't true!” Your voice pitches up, eyes signaling for your other friend to shut up.

Sighing, you pull her farther from where Veritas was sitting. And you cross your arms, needing that explanation.

“Is it really Dr. Ratio?” If you hadn't dragged her further then she would have exposed you and you would've died on the spot.

“Where did you hear that from?” You asked again, exasperated, maybe paranoid because you feel Veritas would teleport to where you were and expose everything about you.

“I didn't hear anything really. It's obvious!”

You can't speak after that.

Realizing that your true feelings are quite evident, you don't even know how to act in front of your friend.

How could you act normally in that situation? The truth had slapped you in the face after avoiding it for so long - when you got back to where Veritas was sitting, you couldn't even look him in the eye!

Thankfully, you had evaded his prodding and saved yourself from more questioning when a call from work interrupted you both.

Though, the problem lies in the aftermath. How could you face him when hanging out? A few months earlier you could have stared at his face normally yet now when you hear his voice - your heart speeds up.

Groaning, you bump your forehead against the wooden desk. The manuscript of your novel is laid spread over the table. By this time, you think Veritas had connected all the dots - he's smart after all.

Your phone rings and when you pick it up, you see his name.

“Speak of the devil,” you muttered after accepting the call and he questions your greeting.

“What?”

You've got to get it together!

“It's nothing. Anyway, why did you call me?” You scribble on the sides of the scratch paper you found scattered on your desk while waiting for his response.

“What, I can't just call a friend?” He huffed and you had to pinch yourself to stop imagining things.

“You can. But it is very unlike you, doctor.”  you jest, trying to regain composure, willing yourself to not slip up anything during this conversation.

“I'm lying too. I just wanted to hear your voice, is that bad?”

Now that is bad. Your cheeks flare up and you're thankful he isn't in front of you or your eyes would go everywhere and you'd be stuttering.

“What has gotten into you?” You asked and his answer just infuriates you.

“I can ask you the same thing.” He hums, and your stomach does that weird somersault.

“Nothing's the matter, why'd you ask?” Maybe you can get this conversation shifted to another topic, I could ask him about his past lectures or his future lessons-

“By now you would have pestered me to come here. But you haven't.”

You chuckle in utter disbelief, “I find that hard to believe.”

Silence drapes over the call like a warm blanket, and you would have welcomed it if it wasn't for his next words.

“I wanted you to come here actually.”

He must be joking.

A quiet what escapes your lips and you hear that melodious laugh resonate in your ears. You swoon but remember the circumstances, you freeze right after.

You would have loved to hear what he has to say next, after all he is talkative about things he likes. But your shaking fingers press on the end button and the phone drops against the desk.

The thoughts that came subsequently was a grim reminder of your situation.

You like Veritas Ratio, and you're scared to tell him.

It was those cliche and cheesy romance novels you would have enjoyed reading, the conflict before resolution before the two love interests. The absolute torment the lead characters would go through while internalizing if they were good enough for the other.

You then remind yourself that Veritas Ratio wasn't a book character and neither were you.

It had been a few weeks since your last conversation. And he probably understood the silence that came from your end because he hadn't tried reaching out.

This hurts you, but only slightly. Admitting that it's painful solidifies the fact that you are head over heels for Dr. Ratio.

Evading your long time friend was out of the question, it's about time that he barged into your home and questioned you on why you were so adamant on ignoring him after not explaining yourself.

But how could you? How could you explain that you were scared to admit your feelings to him, in fear that he would leave you?

Veritas Ratio was first and foremost, your dearest friend - losing him over some feelings wasn't worth it. You weren't worth it.

You were not deserving of someone like Veritas Ratio. He was the sun and you were the moon chasing after him - being friends with him was all you needed and even if you hide your feelings till it hurts then so be it.

Just then, someone started knocking on your door. You weren't expecting anybody yet still you opened and saw the bane of your existence.

Seeing him after so long knocks the breath out of your lungs. He looks worried over you and you wished he wasn't, you prayed that he was angry at you instead at least your heart won't start beating erratically in your chest.

Words weren't spoken but you let him in. After all, the walls of your home missed his presence and it was like he was never gone.

When you were both sitting on the couch, his eyes observed you carefully. You know him by now and so you avoid his prying gaze and will your hands to stop trembling.

He asks why he was being avoided and if he did something wrong, he sounded so desperate and you wanted to confess. But that looming fear squeezed your chest as if stopping you from saying anything else.

“You didn't…I just wanted time for myself for a while.” You knew what he wanted to say afterwards. He'd inquire why it wasn't shared to him right away - as friends, you regarded each other as a safe space. 

You know Veritas as patient but right now, he is getting desperate. He knows you're lying, you are hiding away from him but why - he knows he hasn't done anything wrong yet why are you so persistent in keeping this from him?

“You're lying.”

Tears have become present in your eyes, your palms have spread on your thighs and pressing against them is the only thing stopping you from breaking.

“Why can't you tell me anything anymore? I thought we were friends?”

Friends. That's all you'll ever be to him. You should know that yet…

“I've liked you for a while now.”

You didn't know what compelled you to confess but the words flew out of your mouth. Your heart was beating loudly against your ears, your hands never stopped trembling and your eyes glanced towards his.

“I know you might not feel the same way…”

His eyes have widened, mouth agape slightly yet he stays silent, curious on what you were saying.

“I don't know when I started liking you, and I'm aware it could ruin our…friendship. I'm sorry.”

Meeting Veritas Ratio was one of the best things that happened to you.

You're just not sure if he would like to see you again after this.

all rights reserved © vynlouvre 2024

You’re a thigh lover?

I think not loving thighs is a felony

Just a coworker

Dr ratio x g/n! reader (i tried)

Part 1, Part 2

cw. angst, super slow burn, they eventually get tgt, hurf/comfort, jealousy brr, reader is unhinged, mentions of drugs, kinda cringe but who cares I've written worse, not proofread, dr ratio is a pussy

a/n: i js wanna say fck SCHOOL FOR GIVING ME 6 PROJECTS DUE TOMORROW. THIS FIC IS MEH BUT TRUST IT GETS BETTER (hopefully…)

Veritas Ratio is a lonely man. Only having his books and his sculptures as friends— regarding the rest as no use for him.

Up till now, you've been nothing more than the pest who waves hi at him every morning, bringing him coffee every now and then. You must be scheming something, there's no way someone could ever be this nice without asking for a favour.

“Dr ratio!”

The alabaster headed man stared at you, even with that stone head of his, you can clearly feel his piercing gaze.

“What is it?”

Veritas groans in annoyance, what is it again?

Lately, you've been struggling to teach this subject. As well-versed you were in topics such as literature, history and the likes, it was true that you were above average with maths.

“I've been tutoring this kid after classes and well…”

He doesn't move, just listening intently.

“He's been asking about quantum mechanics and I don't know much about the topic so…”

“so?”

so?

“I was wondering if you can teach me it.”

God damn it, he has better things to do.

“Then read a book about it”

His eyes were trained on your figure as he saw you tense, just why him of all people?

“Dr ratio, just this once. I just need to learn the basics once and I won't bother you again!”

He closed his codex and turned the other way, ready to walk away from conversation.

“I have better things to do than humouring your foolish antics—”

“Please.”

Your hands fidget nervously as he paused before looking back at you, pondering whether to do you a favour.

“I'll think about it.”

By the time you blinked, he was gone.

The next day passed, you were at his door, clutching your teaching materials as you waited for veritas’ class to end.

He scrunched nose as annoyance rose in him like a tide, he could see you waiting at the window and checking the time every now and then.

“That ends our discussion for today.”

His voice echoing on the walls as the bell rang, his students already out the door.

After a good 10 minutes, most of the students were out the door as he was left alone with himself (+ those eyes of yours that never seem to leave him alone)

“It's rude to stare.”

His comment caught you off guard, the corners of your lips twitching nervously as you hid behind the wall again— shit, he caught you staring…

Veritas let out a sigh before cleaning his desk of the sparse test papers he's collected last week.

A moment of silence passed before you mustered up the courage to enter the spacious room, it was… quiet to say the least.

“Dr. Ratio—”

“I'll tutor you but with one condition.”

Sweat trickled down your forehead as you nervously anticipated what he's about to say. (Did I mention he paused to rile you up?)

“You,”

A click on his cabinet was heard before he turned at your direction to get a better look at you.

“That I won't have to tutor you again next time, just this once”

It was odd, a teacher asking for tutoring from a fellow teacher? It wasn't uncommon but it certainly irked him of the thought. You could just read a book about it but you'd rather take his precious hours in his day for something you could do yourself.

You let out a sigh of relief.

“whew… I thought you were going to refuse.”

“Do you want me to?”

You shook your head no, gripping your satchel tightly.

“Tomorrow at the faculty room after classes—”

When you blinked, he was already behind you. Was he a magician or something?!?

“—Don't be late.”

Then, the door closed abruptly, now it was only you in the room.

…

The next day, classes already ended and you cleaned up your desk to get to the faculty room.

As you slid the door open, he was already waiting for you.

“What're you doing?”

Veritas moved another chess piece on the board, eating the white team's queen.

“What does it look like I'm doing?”

Why can't he just be nice for once?

“Whatever, so… do we start reviewing?”

You pulled the chair opposite to his and sat down. He didn't reply, only tapping his feet.

“Your turn.”

“Do I just?—”

“Just move a piece.”

Fine then. There were barely any pieces left on the board, leaving you with no other choice as you hid your king at the corner of the board.

“Checkmate.”

There was a visible annoyance on your face, making veritas chuckle.

“Seriously? When are you going to start tutoring me? I came here to learn something— not some stupid chess game”

“First of all, chess isn't stupid”

Before you knew it, veritas flicked your forehead.

“Second of all, learn patience.”

“ow!”

Veritas hid away the board and grabbed all the books needed, pulling out some notes and highlighters for you.

“Read”

The man in front of you flipped the pages and pointed at the highlighted paragraph for you. Was he making you read out loud? Were you 10 or something?

“Do I really have to?”

His fingers tapped aggressively on the board, his patience was thinning and you weren't even past the first page yet.

“Just do it.”

…

Who could've guessed two hours later you would be in tears, notes sprawled all over the table and veritas shouting at you.

“Idiot.”

He commented on your work before rewriting the entire thing for you and repeating it again.

“God dammit we're not even past the 20th page yet you're here crying like a child.”

Sniffles echoed in the room, only his lamp illuminating the room. You checked your phone and it was already 8 pm.

“Now read.”

“Q-quantum mechanics…”

He clenched his jaw, raising his voice at you before you could continue.

“You imbecile, not that— can't you read?!? Its wave function!”

“Whatever!”

Before he could react, you stood up, bag already in hand and walking away.

“We're not done yet.”

“I don’t care.”

Just like that, you were gone.

…

Despite you running off yesterday… There you were sitting on that same chair with the alabaster head man right in front of you.

“Again?”

You bit your lip nervously before tightening the grip on your pen.

“Yeah.”

Veritas nodded as he placed down his codex and walked to the sprawled shelves at his desk, his fingers tracing over the books (those books were rotting on those shelves, too dusty he had to wipe them)

“here.”

He took the book off the shelf and thrusted it into your hands.

‘The nonlinear schrodinger equation’

“Let's start with the ‘weakly nonlinear dispersion relation’ topic.”

Time flies by as he explains each term to you, giving definition after definition about each equation in front of you.

“Here, page 24.”

He pointed at the first equation but your eyes couldn't leave his stone head.

For an intimidating man, he's getting quite patient with you.

“— and let's compute the coefficients, after that,”

You couldn't stop wondering what he looked like under that stone head. It's hot out here, he must be sweating a tsunami in there. Is he handsome? or maybe he's wearing that stone head because he looks that bad?

“—the quantum mechanical pressure becomes negligible in the ‘semiclassical’ where nabla and—”

He hit your head with a codex, with no hesitation at all.

“ow!”

Oh shit— he must've noticed you staring.

“What were we reviewing?”

uh…

You gulped nervously, looking down at the page, you guys were already at page 26?!?

“0 points.”

He smacked you but with less force, though enough to leave a bruise.

“that hurt…”

“Then listen, don't waste my time.”

Under that alabaster head of his, a small smile formed from the corner of his lips due to the amusing sight before him.

“You're annoying, let's go over the fluid-dynamical form again.”

You weren't that boring after all.

…

You both were already at page 31, which was slow progress (at least to him, he can finish the book in under 3 hours.), yet still progress nonetheless.

“Do you get it now?”

It was already 9:58 pm, shit. You both got carried away…

“Yeah.”

Veritas handed the book over to you and hid away his highlighters.

“Go review at home— you better finish page 40.”

You nod, shoving the book into your satchel and your water bottle.

Today was… fun.

As you walked outside, one foot already out the door, you looked back.

“What?”

“and…”

There was a moment of silence, none of you moving before your voice shook,

“Thank you.”

He didn't say anything back, only putting back his folders in his bag as he removed his attention from you. You shook your head and just walked home.

…

It was the third day of him tutoring you, you were getting quite good.

“And how do you do the hamilton equation?”

There was a weird habit you did, you would bite your pen or sometimes click it nonstop due to stress (which you did now, don't do it too much though, you'll piss off veritas.)

You let out a soft hum before confidently writing the equation, no error in sight.

“And these quantities are called?”

“They're uh… momentas, right?”

“20 points— you're getting good at this.”

Receiving praise from others came by often, but to get one from the Dr. Veritas Ratio himself? You could wish.

Your eyes were glued at the scratch paper, unable to contain your smile; the aeons definitely smiled down on you and blessed you with his attention for today.

He takes note of this, but doesn't comment on that any further, only flipping the pages.

…

The fourth day. It was 2 pm, 3 hours earlier than the usual tutor hours. A new coffee shop opened in the food court at the university, which turned into the new buzz (the old coffee shops were shit.)

The line was long, your legs were about to give up but your students would occasionally suggest this shop, saying it's definitely better than the instant coffee at the teacher's lounge.

After 5 more minutes, it was finally your turn to order.

“Good afternoon! What can I get ya?”

The menu was definitely diverse, candy corn flavoured coffee? That's new.

“I'll take your special cappuccino”

The cheerful cashier jotted down your order, asking for your name then running to the back.

You sat down at some table and took out your laptop, fixing your schedules for this weekend.

“For ___?”

Eh? That was fast. It only took them 3 minutes to make your order despite the heavy line? Impressive.

“Thank you.”

You smiled and snatched the cup from the counter and walked back to your seat.

It tasted funny. Coffee jelly in cappuccino with sprinkles on top? At Least it tasted good.

“And here I was wondering where you are.”

“ack!”

You looked up and saw veritas in front of you, looming over you with his codex behind him after he hit you.

“that hurt…”

He sighed and sat down next to you while you rubbed the bruised area.

“Stop hitting people with your codex damn it!”

“I find it far more interesting to use my codex to get your attention.”

“Weirdo.”

He chuckled at the way scoffed, sipping your coffee and typing some requirements on an excel sheet.

“Anyways, why were you looking for me?”

He leaned back on the couch, before responding,

“Nothing, I was just wondering where the idiot was.”

“You little—”

Only a soft sigh left your lips as you continued to type, veritas beside you reading his codex and none of you saying a word.

Though this peaceful moment was short lived as the bell rang, signalling that the two of you had to go back to your respective classes.

Veritas sat up, closing his book.

“It's time for me to go.”

“Oh yeah.”

Veritas was gone in a blink of an eye, what's up with him disappearing so suddenly 24/7?!?

…

5 pm.

You were patiently waiting in the faculty room, what was taking veritas so long?

“You're late”

Veritas rolled his eyes— wait.

His stone head was… was this really the veritas ratio? He had nice purple hair, his eyes, he looked so… beautiful.

No way.

“When are you going to stop staring?”

“Oh— uh.”

You chuckled nervously before forcing a smile as he sat down in front of you.

“Let's continue where we let off.”

The sound of flipping pages reverberated across the room, your eyes locked onto his face. He would occasionally click his tongue at some parts of the book, guiding you through each equation as his face was close to yours; enough to feel his breath on your skin.

“—because its transformation φ is a symmetry and thus preserves the Lagrangian L and the action ,S=∫L”

Veritas ratio leaned closer to you, your hands touching as he got closer,

“Do you get it now?”

You didn't. You were too focused on his face, with every wrinkle of his brows, the tiniest details of his jaw and hell, even his eyes. How could you even focus? With his face inches away from yours? No way. The man right next to you stares at you, tapping his fingers on the mahogany table; he repeated himself.

“I said, do you get it now?”

Like the air was sucked out of your lungs, your last card was to lie but he was smart enough to not fall for that.

“Y-yes”

“Then what were we reviewing just now?”

He rolled his eyes hearing your mind blank out and confused ‘uhhs’ escaped your lips. You flinch from his harsh tone, as the cold stare turned into a glare.

“We should be reviewing the noether theorem, not my face.”

He made you solve equation after equation, his gaze not leaving you once as he crumpled your papers even after one minor mistake, “Idiot”, “Do it again.”, and “Are you really paying attention?” Constantly rang in your ears, you were not sure whether you asked for a tutoring session or a three hour insulting session from the revered professor.

“I'm sorry.”, He sighed at your visible frustration as you apologised through gritted teeth. He started to pity you when you struggled with just the terms at the next lesson. Was this theorem that hard? He dropped his pen and closed the book.

“Let’s end today’s session.”

A look of relief appeared on your face as he said those words, clearly, he’ll give you a break—

“Just read this book instead. It gives a more in-depth explanation”

— or not. He thrusted the book in your hands and put on his alabaster head, making you raise an eyebrow,

“What? You can’t seem to focus without this on”

You laughed an awkward chuckle while sliding the book in your satchel, a small squeak was heard when he stood up and moved his chair at his desk.

“Tomorrow again?”

“Sure.”

…

Veritas tapped his feet aggressively as time past by, you were late by 20 minutes, by now he would've left but for some reason he's feeling nice today that he'll wait for you.

The faculty room door slid open as light footsteps entered the room.

“Sorry ‘m late.”

You smelled different today. That would sound creepy to the average person but despite the tight alabaster sculpture that covers his face, he could smell your perfume and that he's gotten used to your scent by now.

“Did you wear something new?”

“Come again?”

He took one glance at you and shook his head and shifted his attention to the complex arithmetics on his codex.

“Hey, what did you mean by that?”

It was hard to ignore you as he tried to mute your voice but he let out an inaudible sigh before taking a quick glance at you.

“I meant your perfume, idiot.”

“No need to be rude.” you scoffed and placed down your bag at your desk.

He finds himself eager for a response as your right hand shuffled in your bag looking for the perfume bottle,

“I just tried something new.”

“Oh?”

He leans over the table to take a closer look at the bottle, inspecting it with a skeptical look one he's glad you cannot see through his sculpted head.

“It was a gift from one of our coworkers here”

There was a loud slamming sound that rang in the room when you dropped the materials Veritas made you read, it was a pain highlighting everything.

“From who?”

Why was he suddenly interested? He's not one to ask about anyone's affairs so suddenly, not that he'd care about something so miniscule about you like perfume yet you humour him.

“From Amir, the history prof guy?”

“I see.” For some reason, he finds himself feeling annoyed after hearing who you got it from. Why would you accept a gift from that idiot? He's a far better history professor, definitely? definitely.

Hours passed yet he couldn't concentrate. Not with that foul stench of your new perfume of yours.

Dr. Ratio scrunched his nose in disgust as he continued to guide you through each and every lesson, harsher than usual— you didn't know why.

“Wrong answer, 2 points.”

Veritas smacked your arm with his heavy codex and snatched your answer sheet, crumpling it and tossing it in the bin.

“Do it again.”

This fucker. You were starting to lose your resolve but you do not falter under his scrutinising gaze.

Again and again. Another 30 minutes yet your answers didn't seem ‘perfect’ enough.

Veritas clicked his tongue in annoyance as you failed to answer another simple question again

“Are you even paying attention?”

“If you didn't yell at me every minute I would've”

You continued to write more equations as he rolled his eyes at your reply, his eyes scanned your work and it was okay (atleast to his standards).

His eyes squinted, looking for any mistake but there was none, he gave up.

“50 points”, he spoke in a defeated tone.

“Just 50?”

“0 points then”

“Oh come on.”

It was hell getting tutored by him.

A/N: ITS TWO PARTS COS FUCK TUMBLR AND TOLD ME THERES A WORD LIMIT LOL. THE FULL FIC WAS LIKE 6.4K WORDS OR SHIT DAMN. ITS SO CRINGE ONG IMMA POST PART TWO TMRW GOD. IM LAGG>NG SO NAD RN HELP

PRIVACY

so won't you come and be my lover?

— a kamisato ayato x f!reader smau — also celebrity au — status: ongoing

SUMMARY — a new year means new beginnings. with your resolution being 'to live a more peaceful life', the start of your year could not go any more wrong when you get involved in a dating scandal with renowned actor kamisato ayato. denying it is easy, but not when the other party gives the completely opposite response.

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆.

[name]'s : official | personal ayato's : official | personal

𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐒.

00: happy new year 01: aether's fault 02: don't leave me on read 03: promise 04: the best part 05: i lied 06: friendship ended 07: respect [name] 08: kiss scene 09: you're my bf 10: ayato hate page | 10.5 (extra): ayadog 11: are you my heart? 12: clean it up 13: all mine 14: i won the lottery 15: gladly, ma'am 16: romance drama 17: sour and salty 18: your place or mine? 19: idea of luxury | 19.5 (extra): no shame 20: airing live

21: i come with free cuddles 22: you have a priv? 23: you >>> everybody else 24: girlfriend privileges 25: #HappyAyaYnDay 26: let's go out 27: i always had a feeling 28: punch your irrelevant selves 29: please go away 30: happiness is a butterfly 31: champagne problems 32: i will gladly break my heart for you 33: truly, madly, deeply 34: one mistake 35: sincerely, [name]'s lover

36: i beg of you 37: it's all yours | 37.5 (extra): i'm connecting the dots 38: daylight 39: kiss them away 40: i am revived 41: karma era 42: my mother did not raise a quitter | 42.5: tba 43: tba 44: i still get jealous 45: tba 46: farewell, moots 47: tba 48: you look better with me 49: now i wake up by your side 50: last laugh

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒

idk what im doing

will contain swearing

mistakes such as grammatical and typographical errors may be committed (eng is not my first language pls bear with me :"D)

updates might be inconsistent

taglist is now closed :>