in the middle of the 19th century, you, the child of a psychic witch, fell in love with kim hongjoong, an outcast lawyer and swordsman. you admired hongjoong greatly, but he fell harder when he first saw you. to him: you were to die for.

he courted you endlessly. you received flowers of every kind, living or dead, every hour. gifts big and small appeared at your doorstep every day. he would wait outside your small house to walk you to and from everywhere. it was obvious he was in love, which only made your heart beat.

one night, hongjoong got on one knee and proposed. of course, you said yes to the love of your life. all the outcasts in the town rejoiced. however, word spread to the humans and cries of hatred sounded throughout the forest.

humans raided the town, leaving you and hongjoong to quickly marry and flee to an abandoned mansion tucked away at the top of a hill. although not the ideal way you expected the new chapter in your life to go, it was home.

it is now the 20th century. you and hongjoong still live tucked away from all of society. hongjoong, being a loving house husband, is making your favorite breakfast along with lyrch, a brain dead monster, and thing, a living disembodied hand.

hongjoong hummed his way up the creaking stairs to your shared bedroom, where you lay deep in slumber. he sits on the edge of the bed, admiring your sleeping form. a gentle hand rests on your stomach.

"it's time to wake, my love." he greets soothingly in sweet, gentle manner.