#secret life of a flower vendor

[doghearted]

my angel farmer 💗

[wildflowerluver]

petals of a flower

emily prentiss x fem!reader

5 times the team suspects emily has a girlfriend and the 1 time it gets confirmed

cw: fem!reader, she/her pronouns, reader is referred to as girlfriend, homophobia, case details involving homosexual couples, slight injuries

wc: 3.4k

༺♡༻

emily prentiss is a mystery when she first joins the team.

garcia digs up the standard: parents, place of birth, etc. but the team doesn’t really know her.

they learn a lot about her as she settles into her position over the months. her high school emo phase had been a highlight. 

but there was one part of emily’s life the team still didn’t know about. 

her sexuality.

it’s not that emily’s ashamed, not in the slightest. she’s just nervous about the response. the bau team is her family and she doesn’t want to lose that. 

any girls night or dinner with the team where partners get brought up, emily does everything in her power to change the topic. she’s simply not ready. she’s not ready to tell them about you. 

you’re emily’s favorite person. the best girlfriend she could ask for. 

she just isn’t ready for her two worlds to collide.

1. flowers

a bouquet of flowers sits on emily’s desk when the agent arrives for work. they’re white lilies, wrapped delicately in brown paper and secured with a thin piece of string. a card is tucked in the top.

“uh oh,” derek muses from his own space. “someone has a secret admirer!”

not secret to her. they’re the ones who don’t know about the sender.

emily stands in front of the bouquet, hiding the card under a folder on her desk. if anyone saw the note, they would demand for her to read it outloud. 

“you know white lilies in particular are a popular funeral flower,” spencer jumps in with a fact.

“come on, pretty boy. it’s a romantic gesture. no need to drag down the mood.”

“actually morgan they’re used in weddings too. mainly christian ones but still they’re-”

“reid!”

the sound of derek and spencer’s arguing is drowned out as emily brought the flowers up to her nose. 

soft and sweet. 

she didn’t even need to read the card to know who they were from. 

you had first pointed out white lilies when on your first date with emily. 

it was when you were walking downtown after dinner. vendors had set up outside in the shopping district including one of the floral shops.

emily had stopped you in front of the bins of flowers. “which ones are your favorite?”

you didn’t have to think for very long. “white lilies,” you answered honestly. “they represent rebirth and purity.”

she hummed a noise of content beside you.

you reached into your bag to pull out your wallet, quickly grabbing the right amount of cash and handing it to the florist who sat outside. 

“to new beginnings,” you beamed, offering the pre-wrapped flowers to emily. her cheeks turned a rosy pink, a stark contrast to the white petals. 

she kissed you for the first time that night. 

ever since then, white lilies have become your mutual flower. 

“any idea who they’re from?”

that’s j.j. who asks after walking over to her with a stack of papers. 

“no idea.”

emily hides her smile in the petals. 

2. minimal loss

there’s a small group waiting in the quantico parking lot.

it’s late. the lights only illuminate a small section of the space. 

you’ve never picked up emily from work after cases. you hadn’t even been near quantico before today. but, this case was different.

emily let you know in advance she was going undercover. it wasn’t supposed to be for long, just enough time for her and her coworker reid to investigate an underground cult in colorado. 

it was hard to avoid the details of the case when every news station in the country was reporting on it.

you were cleaning around your apartment and had the news on as background, mostly to just hear the weather report. it had switched to live footage from colorado. your stomach dropped when you remembered that’s where emily was. 

“this is a special report from la plata county, colorado.

we're reminded of jim mckay's words from munich– our greatest hopes and our worst fears are seldom realized.

let's hope it's not the latter as we wait to hear the fate of the women, children, and f.b.i.agents inside the building.”

an explosion.

you covered your mouth, stomach churning at the site. emily was inside. oh my god, emily.

you sent a long string of texts; hoping, begging, praying that she was alive. 

when your fun buzzes hours later, you race to see what the message is. it’s from emily. she was okay, a little shaken up but okay. 

tears well in your eyes. you knew her job was dangerous but this was the closest you had ever gotten to losing her. you offered to pick her up when she landed and she agreed without hesitation. 

there were a few other cars in the lot when you arrived.

they had parked relatively close to each other. you stayed a ways away. you didn’t know these people and without talking to emily, you didn’t want to introduce yourself. 

they looked familiar but you didn’t quite recognize them. there was a blonde woman and a young boy, another blonde woman with bright accessories, and then a man. who on emily’s team had a kid?

you sat on top of the hood of your car, picking at the skin around your nails as you waited. 

it didn’t take long, nor was it difficult to spot the team when they arrived; two black suv’s pulled in one after the other. 

you slid down the hood to stand up straight. you need to see her, make sure she was okay.

the team offloaded at once, each member getting out of the vehicle and distributing their luggage. 

all eyes went to emily as she stumbled out of the car and hastily grabbed her bags. she had gotten hurt on this case, it was no secret everyone wanted to check up on her. she didn’t say anything before she headed in the direction of the car that was parked slightly away from the rest.

they couldn’t exactly make out the features of the person standing beside it but the way emily walked told them they were someone important. 

you surged towards her when she was close enough, taking her face in your hands.

“oh em,” you breathed out, voice wavering with tears.

“i’m okay,” she promised, thumb wiping away the tears that fell.

emily pulled you into her, hand cradling your head as you cried. she knew this was a lot more scary for you than it was for her. 

though the team had dispersed to greet their respected family members, no one failed to see the scene unfolding in the distance.

you hugged each other like you would never be able to again. 

they all knew that emotion like that wasn’t platonic. 

3. ring

a long weekend typically warrants news from some bau member.

whether it’s about a goal jack scored in soccer or a new house derek had renovated, people always seemed to have something going on.

emily sat at her desk and she scribbled away at files. one hand gripped the pen while the other sat on her knee. she twisted a band that sat on her left ring finger. it wasn’t an engagement ring but she liked wearing it on the one finger that connected to her heart. 

atop the small gold band sat a gemstone, the one to match the month of your birth.

you had gotten the ring when on a trip. a shop you visited had sold them and you picked out one as a gift. as cliche as it was, you thought of it as a promise ring. 

despite emily not being a huge jewelry person, she wore it every day. 

the bullpen was a comfortable quiet. other members of the team sat at either their desks or in their office and worked away. the silence made it easy to focus. 

a sharp gasp sounded behind her.

penelope had entered the bullpen, presumably to say hi under the false assumption she needed another cup of coffee. both of her hands had covered her mouth, effectively covering her shocked expression. “what is that!”

emily quirked her eyebrow at what the tech analyst was talking about. she was just at her same old desk doing the same old paperwork. she finally saw penelope’s line of vision and followed it down to her hand. 

oh. it did kinda look like an engagement ring. 

it wouldn’t be the most surprising thing in the world for someone to come back engaged after a long weekend, even if no one had been aware of their relationship. 

emily barely had any time to answer before derek was circling his desk to find the source of the commotion.

“what’s all the yelling for?”

“emily has a ring. she has a ring, derek!”

derek’s eyes too fell on her hand. “woah princess! you’re getting hitched and didn’t tell us?”

“who’s getting married?”

the entire team, minus hotch and rossi who remained behind closed doors, had circled emily. 

“you didn’t tell us you were dating someone!”

emily held her hands up to silence the group. “guys, guys. it’s not an engagement ring.”

a collective sigh echoed.

“it’s just a ring with my birthstone in it. my parents got it for me when i was younger and i found it when cleaning over the weekend.” emily doesn’t feel guilty for lying. it was a simple white lie, not something detrimental. 

the explanation seems to suffice the group who then begins to disperse. 

spencer is the only one who picks up that emily’s birthstone is an opal.

and an opal is not the gem on the ring.

4. home

nobody thinks much of it when emily neglects a saturday hang out in favor of having some personal work to get done.

derek, penelope, and j.j. all get together instead.

the girls drag derek around to a few shops they want to go to before penelope stops at a window with a gasp. “oh my god, look! that mug looks exactly like the one emily broke. we have to get it.”

there was no stopping the tech analyst who had a killer memory. it wasn’t false. emily had smashed her favorite mug earlier in the week accidentally and moped for days.

“we should surprise her! she said she had some personal stuff to do so she’s definitely home.”

derek shrugs. “i don’t know, baby girl. she probably doesn’t want to be bothered.”

j.j. digs around in her purse before pulling out a folder. “i did have to drop off her medical forms for her to sign.”

“you two have no boundaries.”

penelope is the one to knock on emily’s apartment door. she’s practically bursting with excitement. she loves her team and knowing how upset emily was over the mug, she can’t wait to give it. 

you’re sitting on emily’s couch when there’s a knock at the door.

the two of you haven’t officially moved in together yet, though more times than none you’re at hers. the lease on your own apartment isn’t up yet though once it is, you and her will finally be living together.

saturdays where emily is home are semi-rare. cases often stretch into weekends. she’s thankfully home today, though a few chores around the home dominated her to-do list. she worked upstairs while you relaxed on the couch. 

you were slightly confused as to who would be at the door. 

“can you get the door, baby?” emily called from upstairs. 

“got it!”

you trudged towards the entrance, sliding the peephole cover to the side to peer out. three people stood outside, two women and one man. they looked familiar. you had definitely seen them before. 

the picture emily kept of her team on the wall flashed in your memory. that and the time where you had picked her up at quantico. oh, they were members of her team. 

you finally opened the door. it was slightly amusing to see the three agents' faces twist in confusion when it was in fact not emily answering the door. 

“can i help you?” 

none of the three speak for a few moments. they’re clearly trying to rack their brain as you looked familiar to them too. 

“oh, um, yes!” the woman with colorful accessories stutters out. “is emily here?”

you open the door a little wider, motioning with your head for them to come in. once the door is closed, you leave them in the entranceway and head in a bit further.

“em!” you call up the stairs. “people are here for you!”

there’s a distance thud. “coming!”

you figure whatever they need to talk about is none of your business. when emily comes downstairs, you smile softly at her. “i’ll leave you all alone. i’ll be upstairs.”

you squeeze her shoulder when you walk by and within a minute, you’re out of sight.

“not to sound rude but why are you guys here? is the team okay?”

derek nods his head. “everything’s good, princess. though i have to ask, who was that?”

emily doesn’t have an excuse. referring to you as ‘just a friend’ feels wrong. plus, she hasn’t discussed if you’re ready for her team to know either. she then notices the package in penelope’s hand.

“what’s that?”

the original question gets blocked out by penelope’s squeal and presentation of the gift. 

derek and j.j. share a look. penelope’s not a profiler, she doesn’t pick up on some things, but emily’s deflection tells the agents all they need to know. 

they stay quiet, though both of their hearts soar.

no wonder emily has seemed so happy. 

5. case

emily’s not one to let her emotions impact a case.

she has a routine to prepare herself: kiss you goodbye, tell you she loves you, go to quantico, read the case, familiarize the victims, solve the case. all in that order.

this one throws her off. 

lgbtq couples murdered in their cars, all wearing formal clothing presumably from their date. 

emily’s mind immediately goes to you and her. though this case is states away, the unsub doesn’t have a much different mindset than a lot of people. 

she internalizes it as best she can, wanting to perform at her best to help solve this case before more people die. it works at first. emily’s able to go to the crime scene, distinguish evidence, and build a profile with ease. that is until two more bodies are discovered.

and one of them looks like you. 

j.j. pins the pictures on the board and emily’s stomach drops. she knows it’s not you. you’re miles away and you had just texted her a few minutes ago with a picture of the coffee you had gotten. but the internalized fear is very much present.

theories bounce around the room. why were these two targeted? sexuality aside, what about them was attractive to the unsub?

emily’s throat goes dry. she can’t do this anymore. 

“hotch, can i talk to you?”

the room goes quiet. hotch’s eyes flicker back and forth from rossi to j.j. before going back to emily. “of course.”

emily doesn’t stop at an empty conference room. there’s plenty in the precinct and yet they end up outside. emily sits on one of the steps and begins to toy with the ring on her finger.

hotch takes a seat beside her. 

“hotch i need to be pulled from this case.”

emily’s surprised she’s able to say the full sentence without breaking down. 

“okay,” he begins slowly. “can i ask why?”

internally, hotch knows. he picked up on emily’s behavioral change from the second the case got presented. 

“hotch, i-” the words seem to get lost on the tip of her tongue.

she shoves her palms into her eyes. she's flustered, embarrassed, scared.

she should be able to do her job. cases don’t usually get to her. it’s difficult to not feel helpless. 

a hand moves to rest on her shoulder.

“it’s okay you know.”

he doesn’t need to finish. what he’s implying is obvious.

the tears brimming in emily’s eyes spill over hot and fast. 

hotch moves closer to her, arm circling around her. all superiority dynamics have faded. it’s friend to friend, a moment of vulnerability. 

emily’s felt more accepted from his four words than she has in years.

+1 meeting

emily always goes into work before you.

between her commute with traffic and desire to get there a bit early, she’s up and running before you even get out of bed. 

naturally, you like to help her out as much as possible.

it comes in the form of packing lunch, organizing files, packing her bag (both personal and one for cases).

this morning was a complete blur. you had worked late the previous night and slept in before work. emily got ready around you, shaking you awake a few moments before she was set to leave.

when emily departed and you made your way downstairs, you noticed what she had forgotten. a brown folder stamped with the fbi logo sat next to an empty lunch bag. you frowned. file aside, you didn’t want her skipping lunch.

you took your phone out and sent her a text.

‘hi baby. you forgot a file and your lunch. can i stop by with them?’

she responds while you’re in the middle of getting dressed for the day. 

‘any chance you can bring them at noon-ish? we have meetings all morning but a break for lunch.’

you beam. seeing your girlfriend at her workplace is new. sure you’d seen pictures of the bullpen, mostly when emily showed you her desk whenever you gave her a new trinket to add, but you had never been there.

instead of packing a meal, you stopped downtown at one of emily’s favorite restaurants for take-out. a little surprise.

quantico is intimidating, even from the signage you see on the drive over. 

you park in the visitors lot and follow the instructions emily had given you on where to go. security was mandatory and a visitors pass was needed to access the floor. 

once exiting the elevator, you stood nervously. emily was at her desk, though so were her coworkers. you look out of place; reusable bag and folder in your hands and casual clothing adorning your body.

she finally looked up and out the glass door, smile enveloping her face as she raised her hand to motion for you to come in. the agents sitting at their desks naturally gravitate towards the commotion. all of them recognized you. 

the opal necklace the notice sitting around your neck suddenly makes sense. 

“any chance you can get them to stop staring?” you ask once emily stops in front of you.

“hi baby,” she muses, disregarding the question with amusement. “sorry to make you trek all the way out here.”

her hand finds its way to the small of your back, guiding you over to her desk. she lets you have the chair while she sits on the surface. you fight the urge to roll your chair forward and rest your head on her leg. “don’t worry about it. i brought you takeout from that thai place we like.”

emily beams. 

“you’re too good to me.”

“you deserve it.”

you stop taking the containers out of the bag and peer up at her. 

emily’s hand moves to rest on your cheek before she ducks down to kiss you gently. 

it’s revealing. you both know everyone in the room witnessed the act of public affection. “i love you.”

“i love you, too.”

when the team finally confronts emily, she has no problem boasting. 

“this is y/n,” emily introduces. she glances at you to which you tilt your head, lips upturned. the next two words come a moment later. “my girlfriend.”

like white lilies, this was a new beginning. one where she could be more than open about her lover. 

maybe the team's suspicion had been right, maybe some of it had been wrong. that didn’t matter now. all emily cared about could be open about your relationship. 

rebirth and purity. 

[hihhasotherfixations]

Wedded - Dragon! John Price x Reader | Chapter 1

When you are mistaken by a dragon as his promised bride, you unexpectedly need to learn how to live with your new husband. After all, the dragon made a deal, and he wants his end of the bargain - you.

Current | Next Chapter

The results of the poll were clear. Dragon Price is first to come up and be written. This was also the only option who’s fic had multiple chapters sooo, woop woop! Hope you all enjoy :3

CW: f!reader, dragon Price, violence in future chapters

Word Count: 3028

Walking into the town, your eyes curiously looked around, an excitement blooming inside you – one you always found yourself in any time you got to a new part of the land, finding cities and villages you never knew existed.

This time, you’d made it to a village just south of the roaring mountains. A range that spanned the border of the land near the east. It was a relatively small village, and as you walked through to the marketplace, you immediately became aware of how close-knit the community was, as everyone seemed to know everyone.

Making you stick out like a sore thumb.

Still, your travels hadn’t gotten you this far if that was something that scared you off. And without further thought, you stepped up to one of the market brokers. The man was a botanist, obviously, selling herbs and wildflowers, your keen eyes curiously scanning around.

“Hello, madam!” The vendor perked up, giving you a once over, noting the large bag slung over your shoulder, as well as the leather-wrapped stick you were leaning on. “New to town?”

“Good morning.” You smiled politely. “Yes I am. It’s very nice.” You said, though as you looked around, it was evident that a scuffle had recently taken place. Broken wood and scorch marks riddling the buildings around.

“Can I help you find anything?” He asked, that typical salesman smile on his face.

Giving a small smile back, you shook your head. “No, I’m just looking for now.” You declined.

As you perused, you recognised most of the man’s wares. Within your own bag that was currently slung over your shoulder, you kept several exact specimens like the ones laid out before you.

After all, you’d been collecting them.

For the last three years, you’d been scouring the land, finding and testing herbs and wildflowers for their potencies and effects. What was once a hobby had become your life, with you abandoning your old one in the process. Yet not a day passed where you regretted your newfound freedom.

“Say, you seem very knowledgeable in this.” The vendor suddenly spoke up and you glanced at him, tilting your head in curiosity. Seeing that, the man explained. “Your eyes zero in on the rarer plants and skip over the common ones. Not many know them like I do.” He complimented.

“Oh, yes.” You smile. “I’m… well, a researcher. I’m writing a field guide on the plants of this continent and their effects.” You said, slight pride in your voice. Though it wasn’t a secret per se, saying it out loud was not something you often did. But giving the man’s profession, you figured it was worth a shot. “I’m looking for some rarer plants and I must ask, what is this one?” You questioned, pointing at a flower to the right. It had white, pointed petals that slowly turned blue the closer it got to the core, yellow spore marking the centre while the stem and leaves itself were green. Nothing like you’d ever seen before.

“That? Oh, that is a mountainscale lily.” He smiled, picking up the dried specimen. “Very rare. Found only in caves high up in the mountains.” As he said that, he turned and pointed to the looming mountain behind the village.

“I’ve never seen them before.” You mused, leaning in to get a better look.

“They’re native to this region. Only grow under very specific circumstances.” He explained and you nodded, curious.

“Is this in a place I could reach?” You questioned, making the vendor frown.

“I would not advise-“ “Ah! Hold on!” A woman suddenly interrupted, sliding in beside the merchant, her hand on his arm. The man looked a little startled, glancing at her in confusion, to which the woman nudged her head in your direction with an easy smile. “Look at the lady, she’s well equipped! Don’t be underestimating her now.” She teased, bumping her hip into his before squeezing his arm to get his attention and sending him a pointed stare, one you felt you shouldn’t be witnessing. At it, the man glanced from her to you – who was standing there confused – before grunting as he looked away from you, muttering under his breath.

Confused, you turned to the woman who turned to face you while smiling wide.

“Sorry about that. I couldn’t help but overhear.”

“That’s… okay.” You hummed, shifting your hiking stick to your other hand, a little put off by her sudden appearance. “So, am I correct in saying you think I could get to where the flowers grow?” You questioned, the woman seeming to light up.

“I am positive! In fact, I would like to ask to make a deal with you. Hire you, if you will.”

That was both intriguing and concerning at the same time. Anyone could take one glance at you and see you weren’t exactly a mercenary for hire.

“Darla, no-“ The man started, placing his hand on her shoulder, but the woman just shrugged it off.

“Hush now, I’m sure it will be no problem.” She smiled, keeping her eyes on you, to which the man grabbed her elbow, forcefully turning her to face him.

“Don’t. This is our problem. We must bear the consequences.” He said pointedly, but Darla scoffed and yanked her arm free.

“We have a perfectly capable young woman here.” She spoke, glaring at him.

“I’m sorry, what’s going on?” You asked, confused and before the man could say anything, Darla stepped in.

“These flowers. They have a healing capability. About a month ago, our village was raided and our supply stolen.” She spoke, a resentment sounding in her voice. “It was supposed to last us through the winter but now new flowers need to be plucked. The problem is that gathering them requires skill and knowledge. No one but my husband can do it, but he injured his leg during the raid and hasn’t been able to make the trip.” She said while gesturing to him.

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear.” You frowned in sympathy, looking at the vendor who had a defeated look, sitting down on his stool behind his stall. When looking around at the village, the evidence of a scuffle was clear. And not a small one. Not only were there the ruins and scorch marks around you, some houses were even burned down on the outskirts – which you’d seen when coming into town.

“Listen.” The man spoke up, catching your attention again. “The mountains aren’t easy to traverse, especially with an injury. It’s not a safe road. Think about this.” He warned, looking at his plants, avoiding your eyes.

Your brows creased together in thought as you then looked at the woman. “So… what is it you want?”

Darla perked up, her eyes landing on you before turning pleading as she walked around the stall, grasping your hands and holding them up between you and her. “We will tell you how to find the flowers. And in return, I beg you to retrieve a satchel full of them for our village. We cannot survive winter without them.”

Blinking in surprise, you looked from her, down to the pressed flower laying on the wood of the stall. You’d never heard of a flower which had capabilities such as that. 

“I-“ You glanced up at her again. Her hand was holding yours tightly.

“You can take this one for free.” She then quickly spoke, grabbing the pressed flower and pushing it into your hand.

Frowning, you looked down at it, briefly studying the colours and make before sighing, looking at the vendor again, who was still looking down. While the thought of a flower having such potent capabilities was hard to believe - not without it having some sort of addicting feature – the opportunity to study it was too good to pass up. “Okay.”

At your simple word, Darla lit up, grinning wide, though it was almost scary as she then turned to her husband and hugged him. “We’re going to be alright!” Before you could say anything, she moved back over to you, gripping your shoulders. “You will save every young maiden in our village from a terrible and ill fate.”

Letting out a bit of a confused chuckle, you leaned back a bit. “Why, does the flower not affect men?”

At that, Darla cackled a laugh – a surprisingly pleasant sound.

“Come, let me give you a map and explain how to get there.” She smiled, placing her hand on your backpack, gently pushing you with her, leading you across the market.

And in the haste of her offering you a place to stay at her impressively lavish two-story house, food, a map into the mountains and all the instructions that came with it, you failed to realise that the herbal vendor never came to the house, nor that neither him or Darla wore wedding rings.

- - - -

Leaning on your stick, you paused at the edge of the trail, huffing and puffing.

Since the early hours of dawn you’d been walking, resting periodically to make sure you’d be fit to continue.

According to Darla, the hike to the nearest cave containing the wildflowers was ten hours – on top of the hour you’d already travelled by horse together with the woman.

She had been incredibly helpful, sticking close to you and repeatedly thanking you for being willing to do this. Hell, it almost felt like she was glued to your hip until the moment you reached the foot of the mountain, where she was all too eager to send you off on your way, taking the horses back home.

Not that you blamed her.

Walking over to the rocky face of the mountain, you leaned against it, staying away from the trail’s edge, not to keen to fall down it. Shifting down to sit, you pulled your backpack off your back, digging in to get your journal where you flicked to the most recent entry.

Opening the page, you carefully picked up the pressed mountainscale lily, turning it in your hand. Before parting ways with Darla, you’d asked her many questions about the flower’s properties. She’d seemed a little flustered, almost unwilling to talk about it.

Glancing down at your notes, you pulled out the charcoal pencil from the spine of your journal, drawing a line down from the drawing you made of the flower.

Hunching forward, you scribbled a single word before a loud thud suddenly echoed through the forest down below, making you snap your head up, looking over the sea of orange-leafed trees before you. Far in the distance, birds rose to the air, making you hum curiously.

Glancing back down at the journal, you placed the flower back between the pages before closing the book, getting back to your feet again, ready to pass the next few hours mulling over your new hypothesis, that one word echoing in your mind.

‘Addictive?’

- - - -

Pulling your coat tightly around yourself, you shivered, tying the strings directly under your chin. Even with the sun shining fully in the sky, the air was frigid – a cause of both the height you were walking at, as well as the nearing of winter.

You’d long since pulled out your woollen hat, keeping yourself as warm as possible, your hands feeling like ice.

Holding your map tight, your eyes glanced from the parchment and up the trail you were currently on. It was small, a goat’s path more than anything and one misstep would result in you plummeting down onto rocks far below.

Yet as you looked right, you couldn’t help but be in absolute awe by the view.

As far as your eyes could see, the forest stretched. Along the way, a wide river shimmered in the slowly setting sun, everything bathed in a gorgeous light, enhancing the golden leaves of the autumn trees. If you weren’t at threat of losing the light, you’d have sat down to draw it.

Looking back at the map, you breathed out, exhausted. Your feet hurt, every step making you question whether or not this was worth all the hassle. Yet as you grasped onto the brittle rock on your left and rounded the bend, you saw it.

A large opening sat in the side of the mountain, a plateau in front of it providing plenty of space. The cave opening alone must have been the size of nearly two houses beside each other.

And about ten meters in front of you, you saw it.

A mountainscale lily gently flowed back and forth in the breeze, the petals gently moving.

Firmly pushing off your stick, you began walking towards it, crouching beside the flower.

It was small, incomplete and evidently not growing in ideal circumstances, too exposed to the wind.

Leaving it where it was, you kept going. The cave sat about thirty meters ahead and your heart began thudding in excitement.

Every herb and wildflower you’d documented so far was one you either already knew, or had vaguely heard of. All of them were known, most likely researched, used in experiments until every purpose was exploited. But this one? You’d never heard of a flower like this. And the thought of you being the first to properly document it? It filled you with an eager excitement.

Reaching the cave, instantly you saw the lily’s on the edges of the opening, blooming in the dirt-like ground that littered the plateau you were standing on, the forest behind you and far below.

Taking off your backpack, you moved over the left, crouching by a cluster of the flowers. Digging into your pack, you pulled out your journal and knife, carefully starting to prod at and study the flower, carelessly scribbling anything of note down.

Your mind was only focused on a single thing, yet as you inspected the flower, you noted that even in its alive state, the colours were less bright than the pressed flower the vendor had given you. Even these flowers weren’t sufficiently growing.

“Is it the cave?” You mumbled to yourself, setting your items down and getting to your feet.

Slowly, you started to walk in through the massive opening, your body casting a tiny shadow in the large circle of light.

For a minute or so, you moved. Yet the further you went, the more you walked, a dread slowly started to settle in the pit of your stomach.

Something felt off.

Stalactites hung from the ceiling, ominous and casting shadows onto the top of the cavern.

The light from the entrance was pale, limited. And as you walked forward, you slowly got to the cap of it. Daylight reached into the cave in almost a halo. A safe circle of pale light, ending where you stood now, right at your feet.

Normally, you didn’t feel like this. Normally, you’d step into the shaded part of a cavern without trouble but in this moment? You couldn’t.

There was something about this place that wasn’t right. Unnatural.

…Warm.

The cave was warm.

It was subtle, not immediately noticeable until you focused on it, but still your eyes widened in realisation of that fact. Despite climbing high up, damn near into the mountains to get here. There was no frigid cold. The difference from the moderately chilly air outside and in here was noticeable. And it definitely didn’t come from the watery sun outside.

A breeze suddenly picked up, a gust of wind so fast you had to snap your hand up to hold onto your hat, your eyes closing on instinct as your clothes billowed and ruffled.

Clutching the strap of your bag with one hand and your hat with the other, you dared to peek an eye open. Yet as you did, your heart sunk, watching as the sun that had been shining on your back was blocked, a shadow sliding in and covering your body.

The gust of wind passed, your heartbeat thudding harshly in your chest as you could hear every breath you took, your eyes wide as you stared at the unnatural shadow currently cast over you. A shadow that shouldn’t be there. A shadow that wasn’t a second ago.

Slowly, as if a thousand weights hung on you, you turned your head around. And the clench of your jaw slackened as a terror fell over you.

Sitting there, sprawled  across the opening of the cave, hung a dragon.

With scales a deep green, its eyes were fixed on you, unblinking while it sat. Hanging on the rock, its massive form blocked out the sunlight, small slivers only escaping near the corners of the scaly creature, the light almost casting it in a halo. Or hellfire.

You’d never seen a dragon before, only heard stories of knights or travellers, regaling the terror and power they could wreak.

You didn’t dare blink or move, just stuck in a staring contest until for the first time, it made a noise as a billow of smoke escaped its maw, a rumble echoing through the cave as it shifted, muscle rippling and scales glistening in the light.

With a deliberate and slow movement, it flexed the joints of its wings, stretching them slightly and blocking out even that last bit of sunlight that was on your body, fully encasing you in its mighty shadow.

With barely anything else to do, you turned your body around to face it like your head was, and as if on cue, that made it move.

Slinking down from the large cave entrance, the dragon landed on the rocky ground, front paws thudding down before the rest of the body followed, moving towards you.

Terrified, you stumbled back, wanting to run, though your heel hooked behind the uneven ground of the cave, making you fall onto your back harshly.

With the wind knocked out of you, you’d barely opened your eyes before you found the dragon’s maw hanging right above you, an amusement dancing in the crinkle of its eyes.

“Please-“ You whispered, only for the dragon to not hear as it instead spoke.

“Finally made the decision to show up, did we? You’re four hours late.”

-

I’ll try to get the next chapter out as soon as I can! Please let me know what you thought and if there is interest for a tag list for future chappies ❤️

[trafalgarloves]

Your boyfriend, Eren, does not take birthdays lightly, especially when it comes to yours. Over the years you’ve known him, he’s always done something to surprise you.  Whether with a romantic dinner at a fancy restaurant whose name you can’t pronounce or a small picnic at a beautiful flower field. He has never been the type to half-ass things. 

Though it's a surprise you’ve never had a birthday party while dating him. It's almost always been just the both of you celebrating. Of course, you know all of his friends and have become quite close with them throughout your relationship. They always make sure to wish you a happy birthday since, to them, you are one of their own. Still, a party has never been set in place, but you didn't really mind since Eren made the day special no matter what. 

Still, to your surprise, when Eren wakes you up that morning with just a simple kiss and a half-asleep mumble of happy birthday in his very sexy morning voice, you can’t help but wonder what he has planned for the day. 

You continue with your routine, wondering if he’s planning something you guys haven’t done or maybe even something similar to the previous years. You’d be grateful no matter what. 

What you don't know is that behind the scenes, Eren is planning you a surprise birthday party. Like always, he’s going all out with a bounce house and everything else you could imagine. He even went as far as to get food catering and some vendors who make your favorite snacks.

Now, Eren has never been one for secrets, so holding this in was such a challenge that you can't even imagine. If only you knew how long this had been in the works and how hard it was to not tell you, considering he's a chatterbox and tells you anything down to the tiny inconveniences that happen to him throughout his day. 

You can't believe your eyes when it's finally time for you to arrive. His house is decked in decorations of your favorite colors, with numerous pictures of your happiest moments hanging along little strings for everyone to see. 

You can’t help but get emotional, considering how he manages to top the bar every year. He puts so much effort into your day because, in his eyes, it’s the most important day of the year, considering it’s when the love of his life was born.

All of your loved ones are present, and of course, your bestie is recording your reactions and taking pictures to create more happy memories. She couldn't be happier that you are being loved the way you deserve. 

Once the festivities begin, you better believe that Eren will be kicking everyone out of the bounce house for you guys to have your own time in there. Being a child at heart, he can't help but try and wrestle with you. Also, he doesn't miss the chance to feed you your birthday cake when the time comes. 

[ramayantika]

Sakal Ban

Oh look how the streets have been adorned with colourful banners and flower boughs. The flags of my kingdom fly high on the beautiful carved towers, showing the grandeur of my city.

It's the time of the Spring festival. The fields look as golden as the sun with mustard flowers sprouting from the brown soil, their slender stalks flowing in the flower-laden spring breeze, and maidens wearing colourful robes with chiming anklets on soft red-dyed feet run through the golden fields.

I used to be one of them ages ago. These young girls donned in light shaded robes look as beautiful blooms of the royal garden, which used to be a place for my secret trysts with the handsome young lover, who is still elegant and regal as ever, but alas, no longer mine.

Mango buds hang from the branches, and little children play with stones and pebbles under the young tree. Somewhere in the distance, in the extravagant places of the courtly dancers and musicians, I see a lovely maiden adorn flowers in her braid.

Oh, honeybees, you traverse in circles

around the lone nectar-filled bloom in vain.

When you have the whole garden behind her head

Why go for the single little flower of a shrub?

I make my way through the crowded colourful streets once again like I do every Spring Festival, every year and pay my respects at the Nizamudin's shrine.

Dusty paths permeate with a fragrance of jasmine and lavender, and the bazaars are teeming with sweet shops, with small vendors selling savoury snacks. A husband gently feeds a milk sweet to his wife who glows with the little child growing inside her.

I clutch my stomach, and my heart grows fond but also silently weeps at the fate that I was shown but mercilessly snatched away from.

The chitter-chatter of the streets grow louder. In every courtyard, poets and singers sing verses of lovers and romantic union in spring. The patronisers of art fling their gold and silver in fine silk bundles.

And finally the Royal trumpet blows. The crowd stills. The garden girls with large flower garlands stand on the sides, their smiley faces glowing under the pleasant sun. I smile too.

The palanquin bearing the queen enters the street to the shrine. I caress the ring on my finger, a metallic symbol of a broken promise of yesteryears.

The soldiers cheering the empress's name flank the palanquin. Her maidservants and handmaidens donning simple shades and cotton skirts that lightly flutter in the wind walk by. The crowd amazed at all the riches, power and grandeur swoon in delight.

And then the announcer announces the arrival of the empress. He rules over everyone. He rules over our hearts and souls, but foremost mine, even when I can no longer claim his heart, forget the soul anymore, but some springs before, he was all mine, body, heart and soul, where we claimed each other in the golden fields of mustard blooms.

And fate is a popular jester, its jabs hurt the heart at times, but you have to keep smiling, keep laughing, for the show must go on. Life must go on.

An old singer sings:

woh mohe awan keh gaye ashiq rang aur beet gaye barson, sakal ban, phool rahi sarson sakal ban

The emperor hasn't once seen my eyes in all these years, and I never crossed my fate with his. Not all wishes come true at the shrine, and not all promises can be kept.

For some hearts, there is never warm beautiful spring

All they get is a merciless cold winter until death claims their breath,

With Death granting an illusionary hope of a sweet union in the afterlife...

Fate, a cruel jester! The emperor's eyes meet my steely ones. A lone drop falls and I drag the thin veil around my face. The Spring breeze burns my flesh, it's cool winds freezing my once warm and hopeful heart.

But the show must go on, and the Emperor of my city, the lovely Prince of my youth, the sole Ruler of my heart walks away majestically on the royal elephant.

Not once does he turn back and I feel the sharp chilly winds of winter enter my heart.

*＊✿❀　❀✿＊**＊✿❀　❀✿＊**＊✿❀　❀✿＊*

Tags: @alhad-si-simran @houseofbreadpakoda @swayamev @arachneofthoughts @krishna-priyatama @navaratna @inexhaustible-sources-of-magic @madoucesouffrance @jessbeinme15 @kaal-naagin @aesthetic-aryavartik @krsnaradhika @krishnaaradhika .

Um so I have been listening to Sakal ban from heeramandi. Looked up to the translation a little and I am writing this inside my Pharmaceutical analysis lab before viva which I am actually not prepared for but we ball.

Please please tell me how it was okay. I haven't written, read and danced due to this continuous shower of exams and it feels so restless and suffocating. I was desperate so wrote this on my phone. So, yes, do leave reviews, comments etc.

Maybe I will post a dance cover after internals later on.

Also, if there are others who wsnt to be included in my writing taglist, do let me knowm

[sterekfests]

Welcome to our Spring round of Sterek Fests! Sterek Spring Fest will run from March 3rd - April 6th in celebration of Spring, whether you are excited about the renewal of life and spring blooms or traveling for Spring Break, there’s a little something for everyone!

Check out our Rules and FAQs. 

We also have a Discord you can join.

How to Participate:

Participating in Sterek Spring Fest is easy and stress-free! This is a no-commitment fest where you can participate as little or as much as you want. Participate in one week and none of the others if you so fancy, or participate in all of them! There is no minimum word count for your fics. We have an AO3 Collection for you to post all of your creations in!  This fest is open to both Fic and Art, so create to your heart's content!

How to post:

You can post your creations to any website that you want, as long as they are viewable to the public, whether that’s Tumblr, LiveJournal, DreamWidth, or our AO3 Collection. @sterekfests so we see your creations to reblog them. We can only reblog on Tumblr and Re-Tweet on Twitter (we are @sterekfests on Twitter also).  If you post on another site other than Tumblr, Twitter, or Ao3, you can send us a link and we can post it here on the fest blog for you. Use the tags #sterekfestsspring2024, and #sterekfests for generic tags. For weekly tags: #sterekfestsbreak, #sterekfestsicecream, #sterekfestsbeach, #sterekfestspicnic, #sterekfestsharvest

Late Posting:

Late posting is always welcomed! The collection will stay open for late submissions. You can find our Summer, Fall, and Winter collections also if you’d like to add to those collections.

If you have any questions, feel free to send us an ask!

- Liam (@sterekbros) & Dori (@evanesdust)

Keep reading to see all the awesome Spring theme weeks ahead!

March 3 - 9: Spring Break

Spring break mode: activated! Stiles and Derek are ready to make some unforgettable memories. The plan? Maybe a road trip through the scenic routes of California. Or maybe they spend the week in a cabin in the woods, surrounded by nature's serenity. They could go hiking, take long walks, and at night, gather around a campfire, share stories, or just enjoy the peacefulness. It's all about stepping away from the usual hustle and bustle and reconnecting with each other and the great outdoors.

March 10 - 16: Ice Cream Crawl

What better way to beat the heat and stress of their supernatural lives than an ice cream crawl? Maybe Derek and Stiles spend their day hitting up different ice cream shops across Beacon Hills as they hunt for the most mouth-watering flavors. Or maybe they venture out of town, finding secret spots and hole-in-the-wall parlors, sampling the eclectic mix of frozen delights from vendors who boast an array of international and exotic ingredients. Either way, they're sure to map out a route that would make any sweet tooth swoon.

March 17 - 23: Beach

It’s time to ditch the winter blues and bring on the ultimate beach parties. Perhaps Derek and Stiles decide to make the most of their day building sandcastles together, or maybe they go for a swim and try boogie boarding? They could walk along the shore and collect unique seashells or relax on their beach towels and soak up the sun. Wherever you take Stiles and Derek this spring, they’re sure to be excited for their beach adventure, enjoying the sun, sand, and waves.

March 24 - 30: Picnic Anywhere

With Spring comes lush, vibrant landscapes filled with new life…and ants. There’s sun-warmed skin along with sweet fragrant flowers blooming, which means it’s time to have some Spring fun! Perhaps Stiles and Derek are having a picnic at the newly rebuilt Hale house, or are enjoying a meadow speckled with wildflowers in the preserve. It could be perfect or a complete disaster if it’s interrupted by Spring showers. Only you can share with us where Stiles and Derek are having picnics this Spring! 

March 31 - April 6: Spring Harvest Festival

Spring has arrived and it’s time to enjoy all the local harvest festivals have to offer! Maybe Stiles and Derek visit a local farmers market to check out the produce for the season, or they run a table or booth there. Perhaps Stiles and Derek are taking Eli to an Easter egg hunt with all the pack kids during a spring festival. There are so many options, including games, food, crafts, and anything else you can imagine that can be enjoyed during a Spring Festival! Show us what Stiles and Derek are doing this Spring!

@thebigbangblogproject @teenwolffandomevents @sterekevents

[chiriwritesstuff]

Meet Me at the Farmers Market! 2. - Wager

Farmers Market! Joel Miller x Confident! Plus Sized F! Florist Reader

Previous Chapter │ Series Masterlist

Series Summary: What does a Contractor do in his spare time? Sell his wood carvings at the Saturday Farmers Market, of course! A Grumpy x Sunshine Joel Miller series collective of one shots, Updates every Saturday!

Rating: M

Warnings: Jealous! Joel Miller, Tommy is a meddling little shit, Reader likes to ogle her too-hot market neighbor (I mean, who wouldn't?!) no outbreak! Verse Joel Miller, Friendly wagers between vendors

Summary: When it's a slow day at the market, Tommy suggests a wager between Joel and Sunflower. Which of our two idiots makes a move first?

A/N: Another day in the life of Joel and Sunflower a few days early? YES PLEASE! Hope y'all enjoy!

This story takes place before the events of Pt. 1 - Jealousy, Jealousy.

Banner & Dividers by @saradika

"It's been real quiet today. How are you holding up, Miller?" you ask, your voice laced with genuine concern.

"Not great," he grumbles, his frustration almost tangible.

You gaze at your table of carefully arranged flowers, a hint of disappointment flickering across your face. "I was hoping to have sold at least half of these by now," you admit, absently tweaking a vase.

A scoff echoes from across the way. "That's a tad optimistic," he teases with a playful smirk.

You shoot back with a playful glare, your eyes twinkling mischievously. "Oh, like you're doing any better, Miller. I don't see your woodland critters flying off your table this morning."

Joel grumbles, a hint of self-deprecation in his voice. "Well, they do eventually find their way home," he drawls, a hint of defensiveness in his tone. "Today's just not our lucky day, that's all."

You can't help but laugh, a smile playing at the corners of your lips. "Right, keep telling yourself that, Miller. Maybe the critters need a bit more of your southern charm today."

"Right, it's not like you use your…" he gives you a pointed look, "assets to give you a leg up in sales," he replies, a playful glint in his eye. "I haven't seen someone wink so damn much at the farmers' market."

You roll your eyes dramatically, unable to suppress a teasing grin. "Oh, please, Miller. A little charm never hurt anyone. Besides, a wink here and there adds some flair to the whole flower-selling business. You should try it sometime."

He lets out a mock sigh, shaking his head in mock disapproval. "I'll leave the winking to you, flower whisperer. Maybe those woodland critters need a secret handshake."

You both share a laugh, the tension from the slow day momentarily forgotten as the playful banter lightens the mood in the market.

"Well, well, well," Tommy suddenly interjects, breaking through the tension as he puts his arm around your shoulders, casting a mischievous grin at his brother. "Seems like today's been a bit lackluster, huh? Sunflower's table barely made a dent, and she would have been mostly sold out by now."

You playfully nudge Tommy, a smile tugging at your lips. "Easy there, Tommy. We're all feeling the slow vibes today, aren't we?"

Joel grumbles in agreement, a hint of grumpiness in his voice. "Yeah, it's been unusually quiet. Even the critters seem to be taking a snooze on the job."

Tommy's eyes light up with an idea. "I've got it! How about a little friendly competition? A wager on who can sell out first—Sunflower's beautiful blooms or Joel's charming critters. Winner gets bragging rights and a week of free lattes on the loser!"

You exchange a knowing glance with Joel, a competitive spirit rising within you. "You're on, Tommy. Get ready to be buying those lattes," you declare, a playful determination in your voice.

Joel grumbles, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "You better start practicing your sales pitch, Sunflower. Those lattes are going to be mine."

As the challenge intensifies, you notice Joel maintaining his grumpy demeanor, even as he turns on his charm with the ladies passing by. A pang of jealousy tugs at your heart, but you can't help but find his attitude endearing.

Joel grumbles at Tommy's playful antics, shooting a grumpy glare at his brother. He then turns his attention back to you, a hint of mischief in his voice. "Seems like you're getting quite cozy with my brother there, Sunflower. I might have to step up my game."

You feel a blush rising to your cheeks as you retort, "Oh please, Joel. You're the one who can't resist winking at every customer. I think you're just worried your charm might not work on everyone."

The banter continues as the friendly competition fuels a vibrant energy in the market, drawing more attention to both your stalls.

Joel grumbles playfully, a glint of competitiveness flickering in his eyes. However, as the day goes on, it becomes increasingly clear that Joel is not trying as hard as he could be. He finds himself unable to maintain his grumpy facade, particularly as he admires your dedication and passion. A sense of warmth grows inside him despite his best efforts.

As the afternoon sun begins to dip, your table starts to see more traffic, with customers drawn in by your infectious enthusiasm. Joel, on the other hand, has only managed to sell a few of his critters.

With a knowing smile, Joel arranges his remaining critters with a touch of playful annoyance, giving you an opportunity to shine. As the market comes to a close, you find your table nearly empty, a clear victory in sight.

"Congratulations, Sunflower. Looks like you've won," Joel says, offering you a genuine smile. "You deserve it. Seems like your… assets,” he motions to your unbuttoned flannel, a tease of your cleavage peeking out, you thank the stars god decided to bless you with your curves, “Really worked in your favor," he teases as he openly looks at your chest, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

You feel a rush of joy and relief, realizing Joel's subtle gesture. "Thank you, Joel. Your critters are amazing too, you know. We make quite the team, don't we?"

As the market comes to a close, the two of you share a quiet moment, the lingering warmth in Joel's gaze making your heart flutter with newfound hope. You notice a subtle shift in Joel's demeanor, as if he's holding onto something unsaid.

With a playful smile, you begin to pack up your remaining flowers, unable to shake off the feeling that Joel had been taking it easy on you. As you glance over at him, you raise an eyebrow and ask, "So, Joel, feeling generous today or just letting the lady have her moment of glory?"

Joel lets out a grumpy chuckle, his eyes dancing with amusement. "Well, Sunflower, a gentleman always knows when to let a lady shine. It's all in the spirit of chivalry, you see."

You feign a dramatic gasp, a playful glint in your eyes. "Oh, chivalry, huh? Well, I'll have you know, I'm not one to shy away from a fair competition. Next time, you won't be so lucky!"

Joel grins, a teasing glimmer in his gaze. "I'll be ready for you, Sunflower. No more Mr. Nice Guy. You'll have to earn that victory fair and square, just you wait."

You chuckle, a newfound lightness filling the air between you. "Oh, I'll be ready, Joel. And when I win, I expect you to be the one buying those celebratory lattes. Deal?"

Joel's grumpy laughter joins yours, the sound of it carrying a newfound sense of camaraderie and something more. "You've got yourself a deal, Sunflower. But don't be too confident. I might surprise you yet."

As the two of you pack up your stalls and the market starts to empty, Joel approaches you, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Say, Sunflower, how about we celebrate your victory with a dinner at the barbecue joint in town? My treat, of course."

You can't help but grin at his invitation, feeling a rush of excitement at the prospect of spending more time with him. "I'd love that, Joel. It'll be the perfect way to end this eventful day."

With a nod and a wider smile, Joel tips his hat and heads off to fetch his truck, leaving you with a fluttering heart and anticipation for the evening ahead.

[spiriteddreams]

Late Spring

Pairing: Kamisato Ayato x f!Reader Warnings: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort Word Count: ~2k A/N: ok so i wasn't planning on writing a part 2 but then i started writing this piece and i was like actually it kinda fits with "first loves" so i made it an unexpected part 2!

He had warned you that falling in love with him was a risk, that there would be nights he wouldn’t return and there would be days when clouds shifted over his features, darkening his eyes, pulling a scowl on his lips as he turns you away with sharp words. He had warned you with soft smiles and peeling laughter as you took his words as an empty warning, heeding no mind to the warning bells that had rung in the back of your mind. Because to you, at such a young age, love was real. And perhaps to him, it was real too.

It was sneaking you out of your home, laughter carried in the night breeze as you climbed down the peach tree that grew just outside of your window. The sticky sap that fell onto the branches would become glued to both of your hands as you rushed to the nearest stream to wash it off. It was two teenagers, blissfully caught in what one might call an innocent love as you shared secrets beneath the full moon and tucked plucked flower petals into each other’s hair. 

It was a first love, washed away through the seasons.

Now, locked away in his room, Kamisato Ayato pours over legal documents and correspondences with a straight face, unfazed by the list of items he needs to attend to, and the empty threats of men who are scrambling to cover up their wrongdoings. In the safety of his office, dimly lit by the candles that are quickly flickering out of life and the bright light of the moon, he finds himself staying up late, accompanied by no one other than his selfish pride and blanket that Thoma had offered to him hours ago, with tea that has now gone cold, half full and mocking from his desk.

He thumbs through the letters, eyes flicking past the scrawled handwriting of his name. He looks at the names of the senders, trying to find one of interest for him to look at for the rest of the night. Vendors, merchants, nobles—

To Kamisato Ayato

He recognizes your handwriting anywhere, can pick it out in a stack of letters as he imagines your shaky hands writing out his name. They wouldn’t be shaking if it was anyone else’s name, but he chooses to ignore that thought. Instead he runs his thumb over the parchment, dried ink brushed under his fingers, but he can still feel the indent of your pen pressing down on the paper. He’s careful to tear it open, his stare lingering on the imprinted wax seal of the Feiyun Commerce Guild. It stares up at him in mocking navy blue, a reminder of your departure just one year prior. The paper tucked within, clearly of Liyue origin, feels unnaturally smooth under his touch. Your handwriting starts neat at the top, his name, just his birth name, etched in pen so beautifully he wishes that you would write his name like that forever.

Ayato,

I hope this finds you in good health and that your sister and Thoma are free from your foolish antics. I am reaching out to you now to inform you that I will be returning to Inazuma in two months, just in time for the Irodori festival. I did receive your invitation and I apologize for such a late reply, but in a change of circumstances, I will be returning as an acquaintance of the author Zhenyu. As his friend, I will be taking it upon myself to see his smooth travels to Inazuma as well as ensure he is comfortable. I am hoping that you may be able to help with this.

I would also like to take this as an opportunity to reach out as an old acquaintance. I realize that this message may come at a time of stress and I sincerely hope that you will not be reading this in the middle of the night. Hopefully Thoma is keeping good on the promise he made when we were younger to ensure that you weren’t overworking yourself. All that aside, if you are not too busy, I hope to see you again at the festival when you will not be working. I trust that you will not be taking on the entirety of the planning by yourself, and perhaps this letter will encourage you to allow some others to take the burden off of your shoulders. 

There are some minor details I would like to discuss with you about the state of Inazuma, and my possible return. After all, my parents have been badgering me with responsibilities as the first daughter of the clan. Perhaps my time in Liyue will be coming to an end, or my sister will assume said responsibilities. Whatever it may be, I hope to speak with you before I come to make a decision.

I hope to see you soon.

Regards, (y/n)

Ayato allows himself to reread your words once more, suddenly aware of the exhaustion that has been creeping upon him. Yet he doesn’t want to put your letter down, as if he was afraid that it would burn up in front of his eyes, and the offer that you’ve made to him will be gone in an instant. One hand runs over his eyes, dragging down his face as he folds the paper back up and places it on the corner of his desk, opposite of the dying candle that’s begging to be blown out. He thinks of your words, thinks of the thoughtful expression that might’ve painted your face as you wrote the words in the middle of the night, just like him, accompanied with nothing but a dying candle, the moon, and a multitude of thoughts begging to be written down.

He shakes his head sharply, momentarily clearing his head of previous exhaustion and immediately sets to writing a response. He’ll be sly, of course, it’s in his nature to be, but sly enough to get his point across. That yes, he’d be delighted (moreso then he’ll let on in paper) to accompany you at the Irodori Festival. 

---------

“You look good.” Ayato gets whiplash at the words. Surprise momentarily flickers across his face as he’s suddenly brought back to the party he had hosted just a year prior, when he had approached you with high hopes, only to realize you had no intention to stay.

He clears his throat and offers you a charming smile, “How eloquent of you.” Your lips twitch at his words and he watches the way your eyes dim slightly. So you remember it too, the same night he had let himself be filled with hopes, only to realize that the time you had spent in Liyue was more fulfilling. You don’t let yourself become caught up in the memory, instead shaking your head and smiling at him. Formalities be damned, you think to yourself as you wrap your arms around him. Ayato stiffens for a moment, surprised by your sudden actions, but he finds that his body quickly melts into yours, arms finding solace wrapped around your frame. You’re wearing blue, the same blue of the Kamisato Clan, wrapped in a silky kimono that’s perfect for the occasion. He ignores the delicately embroidered crest of the Feiyun Commerce guild that decorates the silk, reminding himself that you’re not only here to visit him, but also on behalf of the young author, who he’s rather pleasantly surprised to find shares a sibling-like relationship with you.

“Liyue has been treating you well, no?” He pulls away first, hating that he’s always been the one to be putting distance between the two of you, after all, his stubbornness and unrelenting pride was the reason for you both to end up going separate ways, was it not? He ignores the thoughts, knowing if he brought it up you’d snap at him to stop and try to claim some responsibility.

You smile, bigger than he’s ever seen you smile and he hates that he feels butterflies erupt in his chest. “Oh it’s wonderful, it’s so beautiful and everyone is so nice!” He stays quiet as you ramble on about your adventures and the work you’ve been doing, trying to push away the thought you might really be leaving him for good.

“And what about you?” You tilt your head, casting a glance towards the crowd of people that have come to admire what the festival has to offer. “It looks as if Inazuma is slowly rebuilding herself, after a year of finally being open. I’m happy to see it again.” The Yashiro Commissioner takes a glance at the lively scene, but finds himself being drawn back to you. He can’t help but let his mind scream out that you’re different. Not in a bad way, but he’s afraid he doesn’t quite recognize you. You stand taller, shoulders pulled back and hands clasped over one another, as if you’d continued practicing such mannerisms of politeness all while in Liyue. And yet there’s an air to relaxation around you as you offer him such warm smiles and poke at his arm when he doesn’t answer.

“With collaboration from the Tri-Commission, everything, for the most part, has been going smoothly.” He nods, “Your family has been a great help, offering to help whenever they can.” You roll your eyes, a fond smile crossing your features as you turn to face him once more.

“You do know why they’re so eager to help, right?” Ayato wishes he could cockily say he does, but in all honesty, he hadn’t even batted an eye to your family’s offer to help. Your families had always been rather close, so it wasn’t unusual for one another to lend a hand, and yet you seemed to find the whole ordeal rather amusing.

He clears his throat, “I can’t say I do.”

You look at him with raised brows as if you’re surprised that he, Kamisato Ayato, can’t figure out someone’s scheming. He resists the urge to pinch your cheeks at your silly expression. “They hope that you’ll convince me to stay.” Reality hits him in the face. Right. You might be leaving. 

“Let me court you,” Ayato breathes out, heart pounding in his chest. You lean back slightly at his sudden words, blinking rapidly as if trying to process what he had said. “Let me court you, please. Give me one more chance to convince you to stay in Inazuma, to stay with me.” He doesn’t care how desperate he may sound at the moment, all he wants is for you to stay. 

You stare at him. And he feels his heart might break.

“Okay.” Such a small response, so simple and fragile that it might break in front of the two of you if you made any sudden movements. You’re not quite sure what to say, taken aback by his sudden confession as you watch his shoulders drop and his face fall into relief, even if he’ll cockily deny it in the future. You won’t tell him that you’ve already made the decision to stay, that when you first saw him again for the first time in a year, matured after more time away and having come to a better understanding of the storm that had brewed over his family that left him scrambling, that you’ve chosen to stay. Liyue might be beautiful, with towering mountains and melodies sung amongst flower fields, but to you, it’ll never compare to Inazuma. With her sakura scented breeze and childhood memories, first loves and plucked flower petals in blue hair, the midnight breeze and sweet peach tree that bloomed in late spring, along with the rebuilding of a first love between you and Kamisato Ayato.

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! <3 a/n: literally so stressed rn and yet i'm writing fanfics bc i desperately needed a break from school work yayyy

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Ikemen Villains - Part 2

These translations are not intended as a replacement for the game. Please support Cybird by buying their stories. Spoilers under the cut. Expect mistakes.

Ellis: The baguettes here are delicious. I bought some the other day and ate them all before I knew it.

Ellis: Victor missed out on it and sulked for a while.

Kate: Hehe, I'm looking forward to eating it. Which jam do you recommend?

Ellis: The most popular here is marmalade, but I often buy cranberry.

Ellis: But if you don't want it, you can pick whatever you want.

Kate: Don't worry, I love them both!

Ellis: Then let's buy them both.

Kate: What!?

We bought baguettes, jam, honey, ham, pickles, and many other things.

(He keeps on recommending places to eat.)

(We're still prepping for the picnic, but I'm already having fun.)

Kate: I live here in London, but I have no idea this kind of restaurant exists.

Ellis: Finding good restaurants is my hobby.

Kate: Is it because you want to introduce them to people like this?

Ellis: Why do you think so?

Kate: It's just something I see when I talk to people in town.

People were giving me looks for being in a wheelchair, but they were surprisingly tolerant because they knew Ellis for his kindness.

Mechanic: You're making that stuff again, Ellis. Maybe you can help us at our factory again if you have the time.

Ellis: Sure. Jude said I can take next Tuesday off.

Shop clerk: Ellis! Perfect timing. Can you hold that for a second?

Ellis: Like this? This dress is the one Ted bought last time. Do you think it's going to sell?

Shop clerk: Of course! We're actually doing great after you introduce some great buyers.

Shop clerk: Oh yeah, are you still working for that shady Yakuza company?

Ellis: I'll stay with Jude until I fulfill my promise.

Fruit vendor: Are you hurt, Miss?

Kate: Um, yes. I twisted my ankle a little.

Fruit vendor: You're still a good boy, Ellis. Here, take this apple and go.

Ellis: Thanks. By the way, the meds you said you wanted are available at Bates' pharmacy.

Fruit vendor: You remembered? I'm glad. I'll give you this as a bonus.

(Ellis is so dedicated to everyone, not just to me.)

No wonder the people of the city love him like this.

Ellis: You're smiling. What's wrong?

Kate: Looking at you makes me warm and fuzzy inside.

Ellis: Hm? I don't get it, but you look cute.

(Cute?)

Ellis: We've already got the basket full, so it's time to go.

(Maybe the secret to being loved is being able to say these things easily.)

Carrying the basket full of things we bought and received, we unfolded the sheet as we arrived at the beautiful flower garden.

Kate: Yum! I swear, these baguettes are so good!

Ellis: I'm glad. I recommend toasting it with lots of butter.

Kate: Let's leave some and take it home. I want to do that tomorrow morning.

Ellis: Fufu, okay. I'll peel the apples. Just give me a minute.

I found myself smiling, seeing him act like a true lover. It was thanks to him I felt happy since this morning.

(I never thought I could spend my time so peacefully when I sprained my ankle.)

Kate: Haaa, I'm so happy.

Ellis: Really? I'm glad.

Ellis: Hey, Kate.

Kate: Hmm, what is it?

Ellis: How happy are you right now?

Kate: Hm, let's see. This may be the happiest I've been in months.

Ellis: I see.

He whispered as he dexterously peeled the apples with a black-bladed knife.

Ellis: I guess it's hard to make someone feel like they're the happiest person in their life on the first date.

Kate: Is that what you were going for...?

Ellis: Yeah. Here's your apple.

He offered a neatly peeled and bite-size apple.

(Ugh. Does he want to feed it to me? This is embarrassing.)

With that thought in mind, I meekly opened my mouth to play along.

(He's really dedicated to doing this much for my first job.)

(How can he be so kind to others' happiness?)

Ellis: Have you ever been so happy that you wish time would stop?

Kate: Time would stop?

Ellis: Yes. Feeling that the moment is so perfect that you don’t need the future anymore.

Kate: I don’t think so.

Ellis: I see. I’m glad.

Kate: You’re glad?

Ellis: Because if you haven’t felt it yet, I can make you feel the happiest you’ll ever be someday.

(I’ve never heard anyone say something so sweet before.)

(Wait, why am I getting serious? I’ve got to get in on the act since we’re acting as lovers!)

Kate: Then I’ll make you the happiest guy in the world!

Ellis: Me?

Kate: I’m your lover, so I just can’t let you take all the credit for our happiness.

Kate: What makes you happy?

Ellis: I...

Ellis: I can’t think of any.

(He’s always thinking about other people’s happiness, yet he doesn’t seem to have any attachment to his own.)

The slight difference in his personality was both strange and unique.

Kate: Then let’s find your happy moments together.

Ellis: Ah...

Kate: Hm?

Ellis: Maybe when you’re smiling.

(I’ll never be able to compete with him when it comes to pampering a lover.)

I almost took the act seriously and quickly turned my head away.

Kate: Please tell that to your real lover.

Ellis: What do you mean?

Kate: Saying those sweet things.

Ellis: I was just saying what I thought. Besides, you seem kind of happy.

Kate: “.........”

He peeked in, making me blush.

Ellis: “..........”

Ellis blinked his eyes as if something had hit him and gently pushed me down.

Kate: Whoa...wait...Ellis一

Ellis: If you were my real lover, would you be more honestly happy for me?

Kate: Huh?

Ellis: I wish I could be your lover because I feel like I could make you happier.

Ellis: Be my real lover, Kate.

I looked up at him, stunned, as he loomed over me.

Kate: D-Don’t tease me.

Ellis: I’m not teasing you.

(This is the first time we’ve spent time alone together, and now he’s asking me to be his lover?)

(Even if it’s just a pretend game, it’s a little too much.)

Kate: I know you would do a lot to make me happy, but that's the kind of thing you should say to the person you love.

Ellis: I like you, but still, no?

(Is he serious?)

Ellis: I will make you happy.

Ellis: I will live for that reason.

His words, which sounded like an unrequited love, were obviously a lie.

However, his twilight-colored eyes staring at me had an unusual warmth, as if they were telling the truth.

(Something's not right.)

His hands on either side of my face gave me the illusion of being trapped in a cage.

I felt like if I nodded, I wouldn't be able to go anywhere else.

Kate: I-I...

Kate: I need to know more about you before I can respond.

Ellis: I see. Okay.

He gently sat up and helped me up as well.

Ellis: Then, I'm going to teach you a lot about me until you get to know me.

Kate: Sure.

He was still smiling, but the disturbing illusion I had just experienced was twisting around my body like ivy.

The day went on, and the wind grew colder as we talked about other things.

He put me in the wheelchair again, and we returned to the castle.

(He really didn't let me walk most of the day.)

As soon as we stepped into the forest leading to the castle, he abruptly stopped.

Kate: Ellis, is something wrong?

Ellis: There might be a bit of trouble. Geez, I just had a happy day.

Kate: What?

Ellis: If you’re scared, just close your eyes. It’ll all be over soon.

Part 1╏Part 2╏Premium End╏Epilogue

[lunardragon00]

The Heir (Choi San x OC)

Masterlist

Genre: Fantasy , Lord!San x Princess!OC

Words: 3905

Warnings:

Authors Note: Sorry about the wait, I have a couple chapters pre-written, now I just need to remember to post them :)

Introduction --> Chapter One --> Chapter Three

ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔗𝔴𝔬 - 𝔗𝔥𝔢 ℭ𝔬𝔫𝔣𝔯𝔬𝔫𝔱𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫

Under the cover of night, Princess Hana and Lord Choi San embarked on their secret adventure to the city, shedding the trappings of royalty for the freedom of anonymity. Hana wore a plain cream-colored tunic, her striking white hair hidden beneath a cap, while San adorned a dark ensemble, concealing his features with a hood. The city streets became their playground, a realm where they could be free and unburdened by the expectations that governed their lives. As they stepped into the bustling city, the air thick with the scents of street vendors and the sounds of lively chatter, a sense of liberation enveloped them. Hana and San exchanged knowing glances, a shared understanding that this adventure was a departure from the formalities of court life.

They navigated the narrow alleyways, slipping through the shadows with a sense of exhilaration. Laughter bubbled between them as they chased each other through the labyrinthine streets, the cream-colored tunic and dark ensemble blending seamlessly into the vibrant tapestry of the night. The city revealed its hidden gems – quaint shops with flickering lanterns, street performers showcasing their talents, and the distant melody of music drifting from a lively tavern. Hana and San embraced the freedom to explore, to be themselves without the weight of titles and expectations. At one point, they found themselves in a bustling marketplace, surrounded by stalls adorned with colorful wares. Hana couldn't resist the temptation of a flower vendor's display and plucked a vibrant blossom, tucking it behind her ear. San, amused by her spontaneous gesture, followed suit, selecting a flower of his own. 

The night unfolded as a series of shared moments – a spontaneous dance to the music of a street musician, a whispered conversation in the hidden corners of the city, and stolen glances that spoke volumes. The capricious adventure became a sanctuary for genuine connection, a rare opportunity for Hana and San to experience the unfiltered essence of each other's personalities. As the first light of dawn began to paint the sky, they retreated from the city, their laughter lingering in the air. The secret adventure became a treasured memory, a shared escapade that bound them together beyond the constraints of their royal roles. The city, with its nocturnal allure, had witnessed the true essence of Princess Hana and Lord Choi San, free and unencumbered, dancing in the magic of the night. As they walked back to the keep, a member of the King's Guard stood walking amongst the people. His eyes glancing and scanning the faces. The guard and San had made eye contact, no look of realization crossed the guards face, but he would take no chances. Seeing this, San grabs Hana's hand and they quickly flee into one of the many alleys the city had. Once hidden, Hana leaned her body against the wall and looked upon his face. His features were partially obscured by the hood, but his eyes, filled with a mixture of excitement and caution, met hers. The unspoken understanding between them lingered in the air.

"That was close," Hana remarked, her voice a hushed whisper, echoing the adrenaline that still pulsed through their veins. San, with a wry smile, nodded in agreement.

"We can't afford to take unnecessary risks," he replied, his hand gently squeezing hers. The clandestine nature of their adventure added an extra layer of intensity to their connection.As they stood in the hidden alcove, the sounds of the city's nightlife hummed in the background. The distant echoes of laughter and music created a backdrop for the intimate moment shared between the princess and the young Lord. San seized the opportunity to express the sentiments that lingered unspoken between them. Gently removing his hand from hers, he cupped Hana's cheek with a tenderness that bespoke the depth of his feelings. His touch was warm against her skin, a silent affirmation of the connection they had forged during their secret adventure. The air between them held a delicate tension, the quiet alley becoming a canvas for the unspoken emotions that danced in the shadows. Hana, her gaze fixed upon San's eyes, felt the weight of the moment. The touch on her cheek spoke of a shared vulnerability, a vulnerability that transcended the roles they played in the grand tapestry of court life. 

"You're so beautiful," San whispered, his finger gently stroking Hana's cheek as he spoke. A blush crept upon her face, her eyes locked onto his. In the hushed intimacy of the alley, the sincerity in his words resonated, adding a tender layer to the connection they shared.

As Hana asked, "What do you wish to do now?" a palpable sense of anticipation hung in the air. San, moving his body closer to hers, used his thumb to stroke her jaw, ensuring her gaze remained locked with his. The unspoken emotions and the uncharted territory of their shared adventure surrounded them. In a moment that felt both inevitable and spontaneous, San dipped his head down, and their lips met in a gentle, lingering kiss. The alley, their clandestine refuge, bore witness to the unspoken desires that had blossomed in the quiet spaces between words and glances. Fueled by the intensity of the moment, Hana's fingers found their way to San's neck, grasping it with a sense of urgency. Pulling him closer, their bodies pressed against each other, the stone wall serving as an unyielding backdrop to the passionate embrace.The space between them disappeared, and they became entangled in a dance of desire. The cool touch of the stone wall contrasted with the warmth exchanged in their fervent kiss. Hana, captivated by the closeness, reveled in the intimacy of the embrace, surrendering to the unspoken emotions that had woven a tapestry of connection throughout the secret adventure. The alley, now a cocoon of shared longing, echoed with the hushed whispers of their entwined hearts. The princess, caught in the rapture of the moment, allowed herself to be consumed by the intensity of the emotions that blossomed within the clandestine sanctuary of the night.

-----

Day two of the festivities has already begun. It was here she sat again, in the stands with her father seated behind her and her brother seated to her right. His friends were absent this time, many of them were going to participate in the tourney today. She did no adventures in the morning, learning her lesson after a scolding came from her father shortly after the feast ended the night before. However, she was in a much better mood this time, for memories of the escapades from the night had came in waves. Not only that, but she saw her mother this morning. She had said she would try to attend the ceremony today, but it had been 2 hours since that conversation happened. Perhaps she will check on her and give her a break from the events. Hana stood from her seat, catching her brothers attention. 

"Where are you going?" he inquired, his gaze fixed on her. Hana smiled at her brother and replied, 

"I'm going to check on Mother. She mentioned she might attend the feast today." Her brother nodded understandingly, aware of their mother's occasional seclusion and the importance of family connections during the festivities. With a brief pat on his shoulder, Hana made her way down from the stands, weaving through the crowds toward the keep where her mother was likely preparing for the day's events.

-----

Entering her mother's chamber, Hana found her reclining on a couch, a small fan waving gently in her face. The queen's eyes brightened as she noticed her daughter's presence.

"Hana, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be with your father and brother?" she inquired with a fond smile. Hana swiftly moved across the room, grabbing a stool and sitting beside her mother.

"You know I have no interest in tourneys, besides, I feel as if I haven't seen you in some time," Hana explained, her gaze filled with genuine affection. The queen extended her hand, and Hana took it, the warmth of the connection reflecting the bond between mother and daughter.

"You have just seen me this morning, my child," the queen chuckled. Hana couldn't help but join in the laughter. She adored her mother, finding inspiration in her kindness, intelligence, regality, and wisdom.

"Yes, but I haven't had a moment alone with you. Ever since you found you were with child, there has been no one but helpers surrounding you," Hana expressed, her tone a mixture of concern and longing. The queen's eyes softened, recognizing the sincerity in her daughter's words. A moment of shared understanding passed between them, the queen's hand gently squeezing Hana's. 

"They are here to look after me, sweet girl, and your little sibling," the queen reassured, her hand gently squeezing Hana's. The understanding between mother and daughter deepened, and Hana nodded in acknowledgment, appreciating the care bestowed upon her mother during this significant time. Yet, a wistful nostalgia lingered in Hana's thoughts. She missed the days when it was just the two of them, wandering through the gardens, with her mother watching as she flew on Noctis overhead, performing tricks to amuse her. The simplicity of those moments held a special place in Hana's heart.

"I understand, Mother," Hana replied, a soft smile playing on her lips. The connection between them remained strong, but the dynamics had shifted with the impending arrival of a new member to the royal family. As they sat together in the chamber, the distant sounds of the ongoing festivities served as a backdrop. The shared moments between mother and daughter became a sanctuary, a brief respite from the demands of courtly life. In the quietude, they found solace in each other's company, cherishing the bond that transcended the passing of time and the changing seasons of life. 

"Mother, may I discuss a matter with you?" Hana asked, a hint of nerves betraying her usual composure. Aera, the queen, regarded her daughter with a serious expression.

"Of course, my dear. What troubles you?" Aera inquired, her maternal concern evident in her eyes. Hana felt the weight of her words, knowing that the topic she was about to broach could potentially alter the course of her life. Taking a deep breath, she spoke, 

"I am sixteen years of age, sooner or later I will have to wed." Aera's surprise was palpable, and Hana braced herself for the discussion that lay ahead.

"Yes, I am aware. Your father has already been receiving ravens from many lords asking for your hand. But where is this coming from?" Aera questioned, seeking clarity on her daughter's thoughts. This was the moment Hana had been dreading. How does she approach this delicate matter? With careful consideration, she began, 

"Mother, it's just that... what if I have found a suitor?" As the admission hung in the air, Hana awaited her mother's response, unsure of how the revelation would be received. The intricacies of love, politics, and family alliances converged in this conversation, and the queen's reaction would play a crucial role in shaping the path ahead for the young princess.

"Well, to be honest, me and your father haven't really given much thought to the proposals. He said it was a matter that could wait. Have you found someone?" Aera inquired, her tone holding a mix of curiosity and openness.

Hana took a moment to gather her thoughts before responding, "I'm not sure..." The Queen, sitting up straighter, peered at her daughter with a discerning gaze.

"Well, who is he? What is he like?" Aera asked, her genuine interest in her daughter's feelings evident in her eyes. The air in the chamber carried a sense of anticipation as Hana contemplated how much she could reveal about the one who had captured her heart, knowing that the dynamics of their houses added layers of complexity to the situation.

"He's very kind, treats me very well. He is a Lord." Hana moves her hands to fidget with the rings adorning her finger, a habit she developed when she was younger. 

"Well that's good, I assume you haven't spoken to your father about this." Hana shakes her head and looks down. Her mothers fingers lifted her chin to look into her eyes.

"My dear, it warms my heart to see you've found someone. But don't settle quite yet, for we do not know what the God's have in store for us. What you feel towards this boy may be strong, but there is no telling if it will last." Aera counseled, her words carrying the wisdom of experience.

"But we will talk of this another time. It is your fathers celebration, go back to the tourney. I hear Hongjoong might join in on the fun." Aera advised, bringing her daughter close and pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. Their eyes met, and a profound sense of pride filled Aera's soul as she beheld the woman Hana was becoming.

"Will you be at the feast tonight?" Hana inquired, standing from her stool and fixing her gown. 

"Ah, we will see how I feel. The baby has been causing quite a fuss the past few days." Aera explained, her hand gently resting on her burgeoning belly. Hana nodded in understanding, a smile playing on her lips, and then made her out. Sir Jaime stood at present outside the Queens' chamber, awaiting the princess.

"If we hurry, princess, we will get to see your brother go head to head with his friends," Sir Jaime suggested as Hana approached. She smiled at the knight and walked forward.

"Well then, we mustn't miss that," she jested, the playful banter lightening the atmosphere. With Sir Jaime as her escort, Hana made her way back to the arena, anticipation building for the ongoing tourney and the prospect of witnessing her brother's prowess in the competition.As they navigated the corridors of the keep, the sounds of cheers and the distant clash of arms grew louder, signaling the vibrant energy of the ongoing celebration. The festivities awaited, and Hana, guided by Sir Jaime, looked forward to rejoining the merriment and experiencing the thrill of the tourney alongside her fellow courtiers and the people of the realm.

Hana took her place by Arya, exchanging smiles with her friend and offering a greeting. "Greetings, princess. I hear you visited the Queen today," Arya remarked.

"Yes, I did. She seems to be doing well," Hana replied, the exchange between the two friends reflecting the camaraderie that had endured since their childhood. As they settled in, their attention turned to the events unfolding down below. The vibrant colors of banners adorned the walls, and men, clad in armor, stood tall alongside their families. The air was charged with anticipation, and the cheers of the crowd echoed through the arena. A horn resounded through the arena, heralding the arrival of the next challenger. Hongjoong, adorned in black shining armor emblazoned with the Kim house symbol on his pauldron, entered the arena. 

He mounted a white horse, adjusting himself for comfort. In his hand, he held a jousting lance adorned with black and red stripes. On the opposite side of the arena, his opponent, clad in silver armor, held a blue and gold jousting lance.

"Ladies and Gentlemen! The tournament to which we gather today is to us traditional; a rite of antiquity and a monument of ancient generations," the announcer proclaimed. The crowd hushed, their attention fully captivated by the spectacle about to unfold. The announcer continued, 

"We like to think that when our forefathers, offspring of men who established chivalry, came from overseas, they brought with them not only this ancient play but the precepts it symbolizes. In the name of that high tradition which this day preserves! In the memory of those other knights who practiced the tourney in its old-time glory! In the sight of your King! I charge you, gentlemen, to joust with that valor, fairness, and truth which are the enduring glories of Westeros." The atmosphere in the arena was charged with excitement as the two knights prepared to face each other in the age-old tradition of jousting.

"Prince Hongjoong of the House Kim, representing his father Kim Kang-Dae I, Prince of Dragonspire. King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, Protector of the Realm," the announcer declared, introducing Hongjoong with the weight of his noble lineage. The cheers from the crowd reverberated through the arena as Hongjoong raised his sword in acknowledgment.

"His opponent, Lord San of House Choi," the announcer continued. Cheers erupted again, but San paid no heed to the crowd. Instead, he approached the King's seating area, lifting his lance to the stands. "I wish to ask for the Princess Hana's favor." Hana and Arya stood at the edge, and Hana, with a soft smile, reached behind her, grabbing a flowered wreath. She let it fall down the lance.

"I wish you luck, Lord San," Hana wished him well. San, helmet removed, his appearance marked by sweat and a trace of blood, bowed to her and Arya before stepping back to his horse. "Princess," was all he said. Hongjoong, observing the scene, felt a surge of anger within him. His horse, sensing his irritation, moved impatiently in its spot. Once mounted, San placed his helmet back onto his head, preparing for the joust. Taking her seat once again, her father called for her attention. 

"Princess, you favor him?" He questioned, a tinge of displeasure in his voice. Hana glanced at him, her expression calm. 

"I wish for a fair and honorable competition. May the best man win." Another horn blared, signaling the commencement of the joust, and the two opponents readied themselves for the clash that would determine the victor in this age-old contest of skill and valor.

The joust began with an air of fairness, but the atmosphere shifted as San delivered a powerful strike to Hongjoong's chest, nearly unseating him from his horse. Despite the force of the impact, Hongjoong displayed resilience, using his upper strength to regain his seat on the horse. If there was any anger simmering within him before, it now blazed anew. Fueled by this newfound determination and a touch of anger, the dragon prince urged his horse forward. The clash between the two opponents intensified as they closed in for another round. The crowd, caught in the thrill of the moment, watched with rapt attention as the joust unfolded, the fate of the match hanging in the balance.

The joust reached its climax as Hongjoong, fueled by a surge of determination and perhaps a touch of anger, struck San once more. The force behind the blow was formidable, knocking San off his horse and causing him to roll across the ground. Hongjoong, seizing the moment, dismounted from his steed and tore off his helmet. Quick to recover, San stood up, acknowledging the approaching prince. He, too, removed his helmet, addressing Hongjoong, "My prince..." Before he could finish his sentence, he was met with a punch from Hongjoong. The arena fell into a momentary hush as the unexpected turn of events unfolded. The clash between the two had transcended the boundaries of the joust, escalating into a physical confrontation. The spectators, caught off guard by the sudden shift, watched in silence as the tension between the dragon prince and Lord San reached a critical juncture. 

The tension between Hongjoong and San escalated as the dragon prince, fueled by a mix of anger and protective instincts, grabbed San by his breastplate and locked eyes with him. 

"Why? Why ask for my sister's favor?" Hongjoong demanded, his frustration evident. San, feigning confusion, replied, "Many men here have asked for a woman's favor, why is mine different?"

"Because she's my sister, you fool," Hongjoong retorted, spitting in San's face. The sudden confrontation reached a breaking point when the King, who had been observing the events unfold, intervened with a commanding voice. 

"ENOUGH." Hongjoong, in response to the King's command, quickly let go of San and retreated back to his own men. San, left standing in the aftermath, watched as Hongjoong walked away. When he turned to go back to his own men, he looked up at the King, who stood tall with a scowl on his face, directly addressing him. The weight of the King's gaze lingered, leaving a sense of gravity in the air as the events unfolded. 

-------

As the night descended, the people gathered in the great hall for the concluding feast of the two-day celebration. The King occupied the central seat, flanked by Hongjoong to his right, who wore a visible scowl on his face. To the King's left sat Hana, adorned in an elegant ensemble. Her hair was intricately braided and adorned with gems, and she wore a light pink gown with golden swirls embellishing the fabric. Delicate white lace sleeves allowed for the free movement of her arms, creating an overall regal and graceful appearance. The atmosphere in the great hall was charged with the lingering excitement of the day's events, both in the tourney and the unexpected confrontations. As the feast commenced, the hall echoed with the sounds of revelry, music, and laughter, providing a backdrop to the grandeur of the celebration.

One of the servers approached the King and whispered into his ear. The King, visibly intrigued, whispered back, seeking clarification. The server nodded and softly confirmed the news. The King, now holding a piece of urgent information, stood at the table, commanding the music to stop and instructing the servers to pause their work. The attention of the entire hall focused on him, and Hana and Hongjoong exchanged glances, both curious and awaiting the announcement.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I would like to thank you all for being here for my name day. It brings this old man's heart joy to see such wonderment happening all around. The main course will be served shortly, but I have just received word of some urgent news," the King declared, his words drawing the attention of the assembled crowd. Hana looked to her brother, who, in turn, directed his gaze toward their father.

"Queen Aera has started her labors," the King announced joyously. The revelation sent ripples of excitement through the hall. Many stood and applauded the news, while others raised their cups in a toast to celebrate the impending arrival of the royal babe. The childrens father rested his hands on both of their shoulder as he laughed with joy. Hongjoong clapped, scowl now replaced with a smile. Hana laughed along with her father and held his hand tightly. 

"I bet it'll be a girl, then the men will finally be outnumbered in this family." She jested to her father and brother. "We shall see sister, we shall see." Hongjoong reached for his cup and drank the wine, meanwhile, Hana turned fully to her father. 

"Can we go visit her?" Her father shook his head. 

"Let the maestors and lady's take care of it. As soon as the babe is out and checked, we can all rush to your mothers side." He petted his daughters hair as she turned back to the crowded room. 

However, the optimistic mood was short-lived. After some time, another worker approached the King with urgent news. Whatever it was, it prompted the King to abruptly leave the hall, leaving his two children in a state of confusion. Little did they know, what transpired next would be a moment that Hana and Honghoong would never forget.

[foggyfanfic]

Mirabel's Super Secret Adventure

Chapter Preview: Isabela strolled beside her in silence for a few minutes, she made an idle flourish with her hand, a gesture that used to produce a flower for her to play with. No flower appeared and she stared at her empty palm, frowning.

“Do you-, what’s it like? Having a gift and then suddenly… not having one?”

Prologue Prev Next Masterlist

14. Rebuilding

Mirabel didn’t know how to do this, she had never even thought about one day thinking about doing this, but it needed to be done. Rebuilding their house was one thing, but rebuilding their home was a whole different game. Looking at blueprints and hammering nails wouldn’t be enough, she needed to put herself out there in ways she never had before.

So, with a deep breath, Mirabel pointed out one of the girls Isabela had gone to school with, “She’s pretty.”

Isabela paused, looking up from the fruit stand they were shopping at to see who Mirabel was talking about. She snorted and rolled her eyes, giving Mirabel a “You gotta be kidding me” look.

“What?! She is,” Mirabel groused.

“She’s shallow. There are puddles with more depth than her. And she is way too into the Madrigal thing,” Isabela dismissed the other woman, “I once heard her plotting to try and trick Gabriel into being alone with her so she could claim he ‘took liberties’ and force him to marry her.”

“Oh,” Mirabel felt her shoulders deflate, then she tried for a grin, “well, if she found out marrying you was an option, she might-.”

“Dios, she would, she so totally would,” Isabela scoffed, shaking her head, “I’m pretty sure she’s not even into women, but she would marry me in a heartbeat if it got her the name.”

“So, if you get desperate-.”

“Not if she was the last woman on Earth.”

Mirabel’s grin started to feel a little more natural, “Well, yeah, because if she was the last woman on Earth you’d be gone too.”

“You know what I mean!”

“I’m just saying.”

“Ugh, come on,” Isabela handed the vendor some money and shoved the now full basket into Mirabel’s arms, flouncing away with such prissy grace, Mirabel half expected the miracle to come back just to provide her with her usual trail of flower petals.

She trotted to keep up with her sister, then gently bumped against her, “What about her?”

“Who?”

“Her, the one in the pink and blue.”

“Hm, unfortunately, I already know she is not attracted to women.”

“Darn. Her?”

“Oh, uh,” Isabela blushed, and cleared her throat, “we’ve already uh-. We want different things out of life.”

“Wait, is she your ex?”

“Sort of? I don’t know, it’s not like we were ever official. I mean, we did go on what were basically dates, a-and we did stuff but we weren’t-. She doesn’t want to ever be anything official with a woman.”

“Why not?”

“Her parents wouldn’t like it.”

“Oh,” Mirabel frowned, “right.”

That wasn’t something Isabela would have to worry about. With the revelation that Abuela already knew about his ex-boyfriend, Bruno had come out to the rest of the familia, paving the way for Isabela to do the same. Their Má and Tías had already taken their curiosity out on Tío Bruno years ago so they helped to field questions. Their Pá and Tío Félix had pulled Isabela aside and given her the same talk about respecting women’s boundaries they’d apparently given Gabriel and Camilo.

Camilo had made one joke about fish and flowers and had promptly been smacked with a cactus. Not by Isabela, by Dolores who had been holding a cactus for Isabela when she’d reflexively smacked her brother. She was very apologetic but he hadn’t made any jokes like that again.

Isabela strolled beside her in silence for a few minutes, she made an idle flourish with her hand, a gesture that used to produce a flower for her to play with. No flower appeared and she stared at her empty palm, frowning.

“Do you-, what’s it like? Having a gift and then suddenly… not having one?”

“I don’t know, probably like spending your entire life thinking you have magic to fix the miracle and then learning you don’t.”

“I… guess. But it’s not like-, I’ve never had magic, the whole miracle fixing thing was just this vague concept. You could actually make real flowers just appear out of nothing,” Mirabel said, “that was your whole thing.”

“Right,” Isabela said, slowly, then with a contemplative frown, “I miss it, but I also kind of don’t. Does that make sense?”

“No.”

Isabela rolled her eyes at her, “It’s-. I miss the actual gift itself, but I don’t miss being, y’know, Perfect Flower Making Isabela. I’m not saying that if I had a chance to get my gift back I wouldn’t take it, but, but-. It doesn’t feel like I’m missing a part of myself, and I thought it would.”

“Oh,” Mirabel paused to carefully consider her response, “I don’t miss Perfect Isabela either, I like the person you’ve been since Casita-. Since we lost the miracle.”

Isabela smiled at her, “Well, don’t get too attached, I’m still figuring things out.”

“I’m sure I’ll like whoever you end up being too.”

“Dios, have you always been this cheesy,” Isabela teased, slinging an arm around Mirabel.

“Well, last time we all tried playing it cool we lost the miracle,” she pointed out, “so no more! It’s all love, all the time now.”

This earned her a quiet laugh, “Fair. Love you, dork.”

“Love you too, nerd.”

“Nerd?! How am I a nerd?”

“Did you hear yourself talking about all those plants? Ay! You were like a plant encyclopedia, how much time did you spend researching all that stuff?”

“I-. That doesn’t-. It was my gift, I basically had to.”

“Uh-huh, sure. Whatever nerd.”

“Oh, you are lucky I can’t make a cactus right now!”

Mirabel laughed, but otherwise didn’t respond. Isabela too, seemed content to settle into a companionable silence. They spent the rest of the walk back to the remains/beginnings of their house caught up in their own thoughts. 

Together they passed out the fruit to their family and various volunteers, then went their separate ways to work on their own projects.

A couple days later, Mirabel was helping Tío Bruno mix the spackle when he pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned quietly.

“Are you still getting migraines?” she asked, well, blurted. She had always assumed his migraines were a product of his gift.

“Oh, uh, n-not technically,” he chuckled, somewhat bitterly, “tension headaches. I uh, I sort of thought that when my gift went away my anxiety would too, but uh-. Nope.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I-I keep clenching my jaw and it’s beginning to-. Never thought I’d miss my gift, b-but it turns out-. Well, there’s a lot about it I don’t miss, I-it just feels weird, not being able to reach out and feel the future pouring over me.”

Mirabel nodded, more to give herself time to think than because she understood, then slowly asked, “What was it like?”

It was a vague question, but he didn’t need any clarification, he gave her a crooked smile and shrugged, “Sometimes it was fun, being able to-, well you’ve seen some of my fun visions. I-I loved that part, always have. There was a time when-, I struggle sometimes to stand up for myself, so there was a time when it looked like I would spend my life telling people they’d get wrinkles when they were old, or when their pets would die. I was so busy giving everyone else visions I never got to look for the things I wanted to see.”

“Really?”

“Mh, yeah. My own future was l-looking pretty bleak. And then I got with Leandra and she fought for me to use my reservation system, and slowly, my gift started to feel like it was mine again, y’know?” he said, “Sometimes, I would watch robots be made or rockets fly through the stars and it would feel like my gift was-, I don’t know, like I had almost lost it, and then won it back, I guess. There’s so much about it I’m happy to live without, the migraines, people hounding me for visions, surprise prophecies, all that. But then I would see a meteor shower, or watch a newly discovered medicine save a ward full of children and all that felt-. It made it worth it.”

“I always thought-. You always seem so tired, and people can be sooooo… dumb about your gift,” Mirabel shrugged, “I guess I always assumed you must hate your gift.”

“I almost did,” Bruno said, “a-and I pretty much always hated being Bad Luck Bruno. I guess I hated the way people reacted to my gift, more than anything. I could live with the migraines, but people? Ugh.”

She smiled at that, and laughed a little at his exaggerated shudder. He gave her one of his quiet, crooked smiles and set aside the bucket of spackle. When they were done, they would deliver the buckets to the different work stations that needed spackle, but for now, Tío Bruno reached for an empty bucket to get started on the next batch.

“Isabela said something similar,” Mirabel murmured thoughtfully, “that she misses her gift but not how people reacted to it.”

“Hm, yeah, I bet,” he replied, “I-I was the village favorite when I was a kid. I remember how-, well, sometimes it almost felt better being Bad Luck Bruno.”

“Really?”

He shrugged, “I spent my childhood afraid of what would happen if I disappointed people. Then my fears came true and I discovered that I would still have a family that loves me. I-it’s- it still sucks sometimes, most of the time, actually. B-but it’s nice to know the people who say they love me, you know, actually do.”

“I love you,” she said, feeling a bit silly.

But Tío Bruno smiled at her with his hearth fire smile and said, “I know, I love you too, mija.”

After a few minutes in silence, Mirabel got up the courage to ask, “Why didn’t you tell me the truth about my gift?”

Bruno paused, then sighed. He didn’t respond at first, he took a few beats to think his answer through, then said, “I-I guess I was hoping if I could delay the cracks long enough, I’d figure out what the actual reason you didn’t get your gift was. I know your Má was also worried about what the truth would do to your confidence, and Leandra worried the more we talked about it, the more likely it was others would find out. B-but I really just-, ay, kid, I wish I had more answers for you.”

Mirabel nodded slowly, taking her turn to think before she spoke, “I appreciate what you did, but I also-. I wish you’d told me.”

“I’m sorry. You’re right, we should have told you sooner,” Tío Bruno said, “you had a right to know.”

She paused again, “I forgive you, of course. Although-.”

“Although?”

“Well, now you got me thinking about the fact I’ll probably never know why I didn’t get a gift,” she sighed, “that’s-. Oof. Almost wish we could go back to you lying to me about it.”

He snorted, recognizing both the tiny bit of irony laced into her words, and the truth to them, “Ay, sí. If it helps, the c-curiosity has been killing me and Leandra these past ten years.”

“Really?”

“Sí,” he said, emphatically, then with a slight shake of his head, “You wouldn’t believe how many nights we spent lying awake debating different theories. It just-. It makes no sense!”

“What did you guys think it was?”

“Oh, we’ve considered everything, even-, I don’t know if you remember this, but in between touching the candle and the doorknob, you wiped your hands on your skirt,” Bruno shrugged, “I spent a good year wondering if that was it, then when Octavia got her gift she did the same thing, so.”

Mirabel couldn’t help a little laugh, “That’s kinda ridiculous.”

“I know, I know,” he shook his head, “but I’ve had ten years to wonder about this! Not every theory’s gonna be a winner.”

“What were some of the other weird ones?”

They spent the rest of the afternoon trading increasingly ridiculous theories about her lack of gift back and forth. Weirdly, it did help to know that this had been bugging Tío Bruno as much as it was just starting to bug her.

Another week later, the ground floor was done and they were all sleeping in the dining room, kitchen, or laundry room. Mirabel was sitting quietly with Abuela, both of them working on their embroidery to wind down before bed, when Amada slowly approached.

Mirabel looked up at her expectantly, assuming her cousin was here to talk to her, but Amada had her eyes trained on Abuela. It took a minute for Mirabel to place why that felt weird, then she realized she’d never seen Amada and Abuela interact outside of assigning chores, or using Amada’s gift.

Abuela glanced up and did a double take when she realized Amada was approaching her and not Mirabel.

Amada stood in front of Abuela and for a second nobody said anything, Mirabel and Abuela exchanged glances, while both trying to look like they were still focusing on their embroidery.

“It seems unfair to say this after you’ve already apologized,” Amada said, eyes on her hands as they played with the shawl Mirabel had made her, “b-but I hate how easy it always would have been for you to stop talking to my Pá.”

“Oh,” Abuela put down her project and gave Amada her full attention.

“I also hate how easy it would have been for you to start treating me the same way you treated him.”

Amada paused and looked at Abuela, but Abuela didn’t say anything.

“And um, I was angry at you, s-so I thought it was only fair that you-,” Amada gulped, “I’m sorry, Abuela. I’ve known this could happen this entire time. I-I’ve seen it over and over, a h-hundred different ways. I knew how much you were still hurting and I n-never-. Should I have-?”

“No, mí corazon, no, no,” Abuela shook her head, “that-. I would not have responded well.”

Amada still looked deeply troubled, despite Abuela’s assurances, and Mirabel doubted Abuela knew why. Now that she thought about it, she doubted Abuela knew much of anything about Amada other than how her gift worked. She debated if it would be better to let them talk and get to know each other without interference, or if they needed a mediator for the time being.

“Would you like to sit with us?” Abuela asked, valiantly masking most of her uncertainty.

There was a pause, then Amada nodded and sat beside Mirabel. Silence descended over the trio like a thick, scratchy blanket on a sweltering day.

After suffering through it for a few seconds, Mirabel popped her lips then in a slightly too loud voice said, “So! The weather’s been great lately, hasn’t it?!”

Amada and Abuela both rushed to agree, Abuela mentioning the “sweet smelling breezes this time of year” and Amada bringing up the “great clouds”. 

Then there was more silence.

“Amada, mija,” Abuela suddenly said, “I am sorry, for how precarious your position in the family has been. I-. The last thing I wanted was for any of my grandchildren to feel-.”

“Am I?”

“¿Perdon?”

“Um, am I your grandchild,” Amada stared down at her lap, “I mean, I know that we’re apart of the same family, but a-are we family?”

“¿Que? Of course we are,” Abuela raised her voice, more out of shock than anger, “You’re-. I have never even considered that you and your siblings-. Of course we are, Amada.”

Amada didn’t respond for a long time, then quietly said, “It’s just, we’ve never…”

“Sí, I know, I know, I haven’t spent as much time with many of you as I would have liked. Tomorrow I am going to have lunch with Camilo, but how about the day after, we have lunch together,” Abuela suggested, “just the two of us. I would like to know you.”

Amada shrugged, opening and closing her mouth, trying to find the right way to say whatever it is she wanted to say, “It’s different, though. Camilo is, you know, biologically your grandson. I’m just your son’s daughter.”

Abuela frowned deeply, looking at Amada with mournful eyes, “Do you want me to be your Abuela?”

Amada nodded.

“Then I am,” mind apparently made up, she nodded once, “the day after tomorrow, we’ll have lunch.”

“Alright.”

The silence that followed this agreement was less awkward, but ten times as tense. After a few minutes, Amada left, getting up and walking away with the same abruptness that her father had when he was uncomfortable.

Abuela sighed, watching her leave, “How did I ever let so many things slip?”

Mirabel wasn’t sure if this was a real question, or if Abuela was just talking to herself, but she answered, “Well, there are nine grandchildren and an entire village to keep track of. That’s kind of a lot. Too much, really.”

Whether or not she’d wanted an answer, Abuela gave Mirabel a small smile, “Ay, sí, that’s true. But how have I allowed my grandchildren to be what slipped through the cracks?”

“Because we all have parents who love us, where as the village only has you for leadership?”

“Do you have an answer for everything, mija?”

“I try to,” Mirabel grinned at her.

Abuela smiled while shaking her head, “Well, no more of that. You are right, I have taken on too much for one person, and I am setting a poor example for my familia. I will have to look at everything on my plate, and decide what burdens can be shared.”

“With how large the village is getting, we’re probably going to need a more official form of government anyways,” Mirabel noted, she’d spent the past few weeks getting to know the different villagers and she was coming to understand how complex running a town was.

Abuela nodded her agreement, then looking back down at her embroidery said, “I would like it if you, Isabela, and your Tío Bruno could help me with all of this. I believe you are each the best suited to either take over a task, or tell me when I am expecting too much.”

Mirabel felt something warm fill her chest, she knew she didn’t need her Abuela’s validation, but it still felt good to hear herself be deemed “best suited” to do anything.

“Great! That’s-. Can’t wait,” Mirabel said, barely keeping herself from dancing in her seat.

Abuela seemed to see right through her, however, and gave her a warm smile, “I am proud of you Mirabel. You are becoming quite the young leader.”

“Thank you Abuela,” she all but whispered, then said, “love you.”

“I love you too mija.”

They turned back to their embroidery, settling back in to a peaceful silence.

[doghearted]

this is the funniest fucking thing they could have added to the game

[cquity]

The city of Sydney sprawled before Livia Cardew like a tapestry woven with memories she couldn't quite grasp. The scent of eucalyptus hung in the air, mixing with the salty breeze from the harbor, and the distant sounds of street vendors hawking their wares created a comforting symphony. Livia stood on the cobbled streets, gazing at the familiar landmarks with a sense of belonging that she couldn't explain.

She threaded her way through the crowded markets, her fingers trailing over the vibrant fabrics of the stalls. The vivid colors of fruits and flowers painted a vivid picture of a life she felt she had lived, a life she thought was her own. It was a paradoxical dance between the known and the unknown, a tangle of memories that whispered of laughter in sunlit parks and the echo of waves against the shoreline.

Livia's footsteps took her through the winding streets of The Rocks, a historic neighborhood with its sandstone buildings echoing tales of generations long gone. It was as if the stones themselves held the secrets of her past, whispering stories of a childhood that felt just out of reach. She found herself drawn to a quaint bookstore tucked away in a corner, its shelves laden with books that seemed to call out to her like long-lost friends.

@totouchthcstars

[jimenathefirst]

Maybe I could be a better human with a new name...

— was that JIMENA HERRERA? the 27 year old is a LADY, how exciting to see them this season! rumors have it they are NURTURING and ENERGETIC, but i’ve heard they are PUCKISH and DISCREET as well — maybe that’s why they’ve been called the THE THESPIAN. I have even heard that SHE MAY NOT BE WHO SHE CLAIMS —only time will tell.

BASICS

Jimena was born Jimena Perla Lazaros to working class parents along with her two older siblings, Gabe and Emiliano. She spent her youth running barefoot and climbing trees and likely getting her siblings into trouble.

When their parents died, her siblings felt the weight of making ends meet for the family while still trying to give their little sister a good life. They strung money together to afford her some lessons, gifting her a few hard skills, but at the end of the day she's still worked odd jobs throughout her life.

At points, she was a street vendor slinging watercress, violets, primroses and lavender. Currently, she's one of many women trimming hats, and occasionally helping her siblings with their work. Thanks to never quite sticking to anything, and being one blurry face of many, it's been easy for Jimena to be invisible.

One to value whimsy, Jimena is playful and mischievous. She loves exploring and pulling little pranks and smiling contently in a room of people laughing. She is youthful and loves children, unafraid to crouch to their level or get her hands dirty, and hoping to one day have a family of her own. But if she's to do so, the thought of raising them with the same difficulties her and her siblings face upsets her. Everyone she's ever loved, or will ever love, deserves more.

Which leads her to this season...Jimena's done her research, she's watched closely for seasons now, studied the hands of wealthy pianists in the home Gabe works for, and she's decided to do the unthinkable. Debut--as someone "worthy". She is now Jimena Herrera, gentry, visiting, and hoping to marry.

TLDR: Jimena grew up working class and is currently pretending to be gentry so that she can marry into stability and support her future family and her siblings, who have done so much for her. She's risking a lot, and has been finding little ways to push the lie forward. It's made her secretive and a little on edge, slowly realizing she's bitten off more than she could chew.

CHARACTERISTICS

Face Claim: Barbara Lopez

Height: 5 ft 7 in

Positive Traits: playful, nurturing, energetic,

Negative Traits: stubborn, forgetful puckish, discreet 

Hobbies: Flower/herb picking, tree climbing, horse-rider admiring, learning, the outdoors, active activities, etc.

Pinterest

WANTED CONNECTIONS:

A best friend - Jimena is close to her siblings but obviously knows other people and/or has at least one or two solid friends, who may support her or think she's insane, but it would be nice to have at least someone who knows Jimena's true self.

Someone who knows - While Jimena's life has made it easy for her to be invisible before this, it's likely someone can recognize her or would know her from somewhere. This might be someone who is suspicious of her and realizes over time, or someone she may have to bribe (this may be helpful if your character wants/needs something). 

Help/Alliances - Jimena can't do this on her own, so I'm looking for people who may be able to supply her with fabric, or dresses, or anything that might help her pull off their elaborate lie. She's willing to work for it. I'm also interested in if she can be posing as someone's distant visiting cousin, whether or not that person thinks this is true, which might give Jimena access to some of their resources (like carriages, horses, a fancy home, etc). Bonus if they think having Jimena helps THEM so they give her things.

Gentry+ connections! Has she hit it off with anyone? Who is she...I don't know...taking strolls with? Past romances? New romances? New enemies? Frenemies? People she doesn't trust? People she does...but shouldn't? All the plots!

[rambheem-is-real]

Hibiscus

Relationship: Alluri Seetharamaraju/Komuram Bheem

Rating: T

Tags/warnings: referenced torture, angst

CelebRRRation Day Two - Flowers

The days of the past few months blend together, consisting of physical beatings, verbal abuse, and eating moldy slop. The heat seeps through the metal bars of his cage, and he doesn’t have the strength to bat the mosquitos away anymore. Ram’s only respite are the nights. 

Then, he’s not A. Ramaraju, convicted criminal. He’s not being kept alive merely as a fucking trophy for the governor. He can be whoever he wants to be, do whatever he wants to do.

Ram has always had the ability to control what he dreams about. In his free time, once he had gotten accustomed to his officer job in Delhi, he had scoured the libraries to find out more. Lucid dreaming, he read. 

That night Ram made himself dream of Chinna, woke up with tears on his cheeks, and vowed to never do it again. 

Now, it’s his comfort. As soon as the field lights come on, the guards leave him alone to go home, and he knows he won’t be bothered until dawn. He closes his eyes, and falls.

-

Ram opens his eyes to see long green stalks. He sits up, surveying his surroundings. There are flowers that stretch out for miles as far as he can see, and they bring a sweet scent with them. The sky is painted pink and gold from a breathtaking sunset, and the cool dirt beneath his legs provides a respite from the heat. Over in the distance, kneeling near a row of red hibiscus, is a broad-shouldered figure. 

Ram slowly makes his way over to the man he loves, who turns and greets him with an ear-splitting smile, and Ram has no choice but to smile back. Bheem’s emotions have always been contagious to Ram, whether it was elation over trying a new snack from the street vendors, or the heartbroken grief Bheem had raged with during their fight. 

“Ram!” Bheem greets him. 

This Bheem, the one he’s created in this dreamscape, doesn’t hate him, or see him only as an older brother. This Bheem sees himself as an equal, as the other half of Ram’s heart, the way it should be. This Bheem knows all of Ram’s secrets, knows the monster he’s become and the child he started out as, and yet doesn’t hate him for it. 

This Bheem is the only one Ram has left. 

Ram kneels down next to Bheem, who points out the row of hibiscus flowers. “Look, bangaram, they’re so beautiful!” 

Ram just smiles at Bheem, knowing nothing he could dream up would be more beautiful than the man next to him. There is no betrayal in those eyes, no whip scars on his back, no lacerations on his wrists. 

Bheem is glowing from the sunset lighting, shoulders upright and relaxed. The saffron kurta he’s wearing makes him look like a god, and that’s actually close to the truth of it. He’s been Ram’s only solace these past few months, and Ram waits for the blissful nights where he can worship to his heart’s content. 

He reaches for Bheem’s hand, his heart jumping a little even though he knows none of this is real, when Bheem wraps his fingers around Ram’s and squeezes softly. 

“They sure are, bujji.” He replies. 

Bheem fusses for a few seconds, brushing his hands through the row they’re kneeling in front of. 

“Did you know that hibiscus flowers can reduce inflammation? Also a myriad of other ailments. If you ever get a heart attack, I’ll make you a paste that’ll save your life out of these.” 

Ram just listens to Bheem ramble on fondly. This wasn’t part of the dreamscape, Ram didn’t have that much knowledge on random flowers. He and Bheem –- Aktar at the time –- had had this conversation when Bheem had found Ram in the middle of reading a book detailing the circulatory system. 

His mood dips when he doesn’t remember what Aktar had said after that, and right on cue, Bheem stops talking next to him. Ram closes his eyes, fighting off the brutal loneliness of the moment. Here he was, a prisoner in a 4 x 4 cell block, left alone for the night, dreaming up his imaginary lover. The real Bheem was likely long gone, probably in some other state. His babai was probably away reassuring Seetha after delivering his letters. And the rest of his family was in a place unreachable to any human being. 

Not-Bheem makes an “ah ha!” noise next to him, which rouses Ram out of his self-pity. Bheem picks what seems to be the best flower out of the bunch, smiles down at it, then looks at Ram like he wants to memorize his face. He brushes back Ram’s hair with one hand, and with a tenderness that makes Ram ache deep in his heart, slowly tucks the red flower behind Ram’s ear with his other hand. 

“My favorite hibiscus, for my favorite man.”

Ram can’t stop the sob that automatically rises up in his throat at the gesture, knowing that he’s ruined any chance of the real Bheem touching him for a reason other than wanting to hurt him. 

“Ram?” Bheem asks, worried, and Ram hates himself for wanting to stay here, to let Bheem dote over him for longer. 

Yet Ram knows he can’t escape his recurring nightmare, already feeling the dry early morning heat and hearing the noises of soldiers wandering around in a way that is much more real than his dreamscape. He’ll have to wake up soon, to avoid being woken up. The feeling of waking up not being able to breathe and instinctively panicking, surrounded by the laughter of those white monsters holding his limbs in place with their boots as they continue to pour ice cold water over him, is not something he wishes to experience again. 

So he allows himself one last gesture, to grab Bheem’s hand on his face and gently press a kiss to the owner’s palm, hating the way the imaginary Bheem’s eyes look so understanding- 

And Ram lets himself come back into reality.

-

@celebrrration

[theskyehealers]

Helena found a rare moment, all to herself. With the arrival of Alynne and Jezyk, the birth of Ula along the way, and returning to Hillside, she had welcomed Arendt to stay on longer, with his mysterious companion Maris, her younger girls, and returning to the responsibilities of caring for the people, she had barely a breath to herself. Thankfully Ulrich had proven a worthy partner, where he had also begun to take on some of the queries of the people. As the sun had begun its descent, and the summer winds breezed through, she took her collecting basket with her, and went out to the Old Gardens. The original plot of land, a slightly neglected and overgrown garden with a more than vibrant pond, remained almost the same. She remembered exactly why she had chosen this spot. it was serene with only the sounds of the chirping birds returning home from their day's journey. Seating herself atop a fallen log, in the overgrown grass, she looked out at the pond, and thought of her sisters. Lorna had been the first, and they had found each other just by sheer luck. She was named Pink Dust then and Pink had never failed in becoming the exact woman she was meant to be, fearless and forward. Juliette had found her way far from the forests of Thrakir, wounded in more ways than one, limping, but defiant, and unyielding in her loyalty. Exene had also found her way from Thrakir, a girl then displaying abilities like no other, a healer still, taught to show shame for her telekinesis, until tragedy struck, and life began anew. Helena squeezed her hands around a few of the flowers she had plucked. Absent hands remembered an old skill, weaving together wreaths and flower crowns. When she had run, as fast as her legs could have carried her, she hid her healing abilities, and learned to weave flower crowns and wreaths, earning the trust of other vendors, and eventually a bowl of stew. And then another, until the Potter family had aided her. Helena sighed heavily at the fading memory. She had bonded with their youngest daughter, and had secretly begun to teach her the healing arts. Collecting plants here and there and showing her how to dry and wrap them for later use. The Potters thought less of her, shunning her when they caught little Aurelia mimicking Helena, trying to 'cure' one of her porcelain dolls with the healing herbs Helena had helped her collect. Aurelia and Helena were forbidden to see one another after, and eventually Helena found herself at the garden by the pond, and they continued to write, in secret. They saw each other infrequently, until the last missive was received, from Pa Potter himself. He explained his daughter had gone mad, all because of her. She had become fanatical with the herbs Helena had taught her, berating the family that she was not like them, and had run away. The Potters vehemently told her to keep clear of their family, and Helena obliged, never reaching out again. She still listened to the winds, hoping she could learn of her whereabouts, hoping she was thriving, somewhere far, somewhere safe.

Stabbing her collecting stick in the dry earth, she found a few rare tubers, and cleaned them off with her hands, looking them over, and whispered. "Trinity." Trinity had been a discovery of Pink's, the two girls had found each other through the skin trade. She shared a similar history with Pink, their families both renowned and storied and having abandoned their natural talents for something completely different. Pink had tried to spare Trinity, even under the scaled thumb of Jormun. Trinity survived that life, and when all was said and done, she had come to Hillside, to recuperate. She displayed mystical abilities much like Exene and Pink's, but stronger, under the finest control she had ever seen, but worried for her nonetheless. Life had parted them all, scattering them with the winds. It was the winds that would carry back whispers of the toe-headed psychokinetic. That she had been bested, and was one with the stars again. Helena never forgot either of her fallen sisters, and how much guilt she felt for failing them, for not being able to protect them. Rising to her feet, she pulled the hood of her cloak back over her head, picked up her half-empty collecting basket and returned home. "In the stars...I hope you are safe my sisters..." Helena whispered. Not knowing that the stars themselves had set a new path for these wayward witches.