#hahaha..........

ㅤ @maquiscursedㅤ/ㅤROYAL, FANTASY ROMANCE AND SPICEㅤ/ㅤaccepting!

ㅤㅤhere’s a hurtful reality none can escape from, no matter to which world they try running: every rose has its thorns. even those coloured in rainbow and coated in nectar-like promises. forbidden or tragic love stories were known to many writers’ quills, as ancient as the human heart and all its magic. academics would claim that such truth was the balance of the universe, what kept the planet spinning, a rule that must be followed to keep the natural order. priests would then regurgitate such a fact for their sermons, preaching for the scale of good and bad, divine and humane, peace and chaos. yes, yes, yes, they were right. sometimes, good things hurt, and sometimes, they were not meant to last for very long. destiny, karma, statistics, call it what you will—no matter how hard you look at it, however, there’s no remedy.

ㅤㅤaether knew that. as he spiralled the rainbow rose between his gloved index and thumb, smiling down at the rose-yellowed petals that glistened under the last afternoon’s rays, he felt that sinking in his heart. yet he still chose to bring it closer to feel its sweet fragrance that no perfume could truly imitate.

ㅤㅤ“yes, one day you will.” his voice was low, almost melancholic, rhythmic with the flow of falling fountain water, and in that moment, jaspers did not meet amethysts, even if they were sitting a few centimetres away from each other. as if he didn’t want lyney to hear such a confession. but it was true, and like all true things in the universe, there was little a golden star in the sky could do about it. perhaps one day, when aether flew away from teyvat, the magician would forget him. flowers without thorns would be given out to another who’d share his wrinkles and grey hair. tall tales of his magic tricks and adventures would be the reason for awe and applause, just like the pyro-loved delighted himself on. there would be a huge family, happiness and home.

ㅤㅤhere’s another hurtful truth: every rose has its thorns, but it doesn’t mean you have to suffer for it. just cut it out or pick another with fewer spikes, less blood, and fewer complications. and once more, aether knew. he wasn’t that, the easy choice, the reasonable option, the happy ending — especially not to lyney. no matter how much they played with one another with make-believe fantasies, they were not meant to be. they were each other’s indulgences, that’s what they were. that’s how they were supposed to remain until they ran out of time.

ㅤㅤyet aether’s pinky interlaced with his over the white marble, gloved touches of warmth connecting. he smelled the rose again. what a wondrous gift.

possumtree replied to your post

YEAH! GO DAISY

I'M SO RELIEVED