#🌸 delicate flower no more ( face )

[moonselune]

hiya!

could i ask for the female companions (or just like, the main group of ladies u write for) reactions to tav having hanahaki disease, and then later on finding out the disease is directed at them when tav coughs up petals of their favorite flowers? A little bit of angst is neccessary, because like, the companions would probably assume reader was dying of some exotic virus or poisoning before someone told them what the disease was 🌸🌸

ur more than welcome to ignore if u dont write for uncannon illnesses 🫂

--🃏🌀⭐️ Jester

(P.S!!! if u decide to write for just like, two-three people, then please include bestgirl shadowheart 🖤)

This was so much fun to write !!! I wasn't familiar with it at first but i got so hooked on the idea !

Karlach:

The first time you cough up petals, Karlach doesn't notice. You're quick to hide the evidence, stuffing the delicate fragments of color into your sleeve as her attention is caught by something else in the camp. But as the days go by, the cough worsens, and more petals appear, vibrant and fragile, each one a sharp reminder of your feelings and the love you haven't dared to voice.

Karlach is the first to notice that something is wrong.

"You're coughing a lot lately," she says one morning, her voice filled with concern. Her fiery gaze scans you, her brow furrowed. "You're not catching something nasty, are you? If you keel over, who's gonna keep me sane in this mad world?"

You laugh it off, pretending it's nothing. A bit of dust in the air, a mild allergy, anything to deflect her concern. But Karlach isn't stupid. She watches you closely, and when you excuse yourself from dinner one evening, coughing violently into your hands, she follows.

She finds you behind a tree, bent over, a handful of petals spilling from your mouth. They glimmer softly in the moonlight, the edges of each one perfect, like a cruel mockery of beauty.

"Gods," Karlach whispers, her voice trembling. "What’s happening to you?"

You try to hide the petals, to brush them away, but it’s too late. Karlach rushes to you, her warmth radiating even in the cool night air.

"You’re sick!" she exclaims, gripping your shoulders. Her tail flicks in agitation. "What is this? Poison? A curse? We’ll find Shads, or Gale, or—"

"It’s not that simple," you manage between gasps.

Karlach's panic grows as you begin to explain, haltingly, about Hanahaki Disease. A cruel affliction born from unspoken, unrequited love. Her hands clench into fists, her flames sparking faintly, reflecting her frustration.

"Unrequited love?" she echoes, her voice soft but laced with disbelief. "You mean… you love someone, and you didn’t tell them?"

Your silence is answer enough. Her expression hardens, and for the first time since you’ve known her, Karlach looks genuinely angry—not at you, but at the injustice of the situation.

"Why the hell didn’t you say anything?!" she demands.

You look away, the weight of your emotions heavy on your chest. You’re about to speak when you cough again, violently this time, and petals tumble to the ground. Karlach freezes.

They’re red, vibrant and fiery. Her favorite color. Her favorite flower: crimson dahlias.

It takes her a moment to process, but when she does, her fiery demeanor falters. Her lips part, her eyes widening in realization.

"Wait… me?" she breathes, her voice almost inaudible.

You nod, unable to meet her gaze. The tension stretches between you, unbearable, until you feel Karlach’s hands cup your face, warm and steady. She forces you to look at her, her own eyes shimmering with something unreadable.

"Why didn’t you tell me?" she asks, her voice breaking slightly.

"I didn’t want to burden you," you admit, tears stinging your eyes. "You’ve already been through so much, and I didn’t want to make things harder for you."

Karlach shakes her head, her grip on you tightening. "You idiot," she says, her voice thick with emotion. "Do you think I’d ever let you suffer like this? Do you think you’re a burden to me?"

You start to respond, but she doesn’t let you finish. Instead, she kisses you. It’s fierce and desperate, filled with all the emotions she’s clearly been holding back. Her lips are warm, her flames subdued but still ever-present, wrapping you in a cocoon of heat.

When she finally pulls back, her eyes are blazing—not with fire, but with love.

"I love you," she says, the words spilling from her like a vow. "I’ve been too scared to admit it because I didn’t want to mess this up, but gods… I love you."

You’re left speechless, your heart pounding. The weight in your chest lessens, and for the first time in days, you take a deep, clear breath. No petals.

Karlach notices, a grin spreading across her face despite her tears. "Look at that," she says, laughing softly. "You’re already better."

You both sit there in the moonlight, her holding you close, as the realization of what just happened settles over you. She murmurs softly about how you’ll never go through something like this again, how she’ll always make sure you know exactly how much she cares.

And as her flames flicker softly around you, warming you to your core, you finally feel at peace.

Minthara:

The onset of the illness was slow, creeping into your life like an uninvited guest. You thought little of it at first: a dry cough here, a scratch in your throat there. It was easy to dismiss the signs in the chaos of your travels and battles, especially with Minthara by your side. She was fierce and steadfast, her presence alone enough to anchor you through the storm. But soon the symptoms grew worse.

You began coughing up petals—small, delicate things of an unnervingly familiar hue. White and gold, like the ethereal blooms Minthara kept tucked away in her personal satchel, plucked from her homeland's gardens. Nyvellan blooms, she called them once, her voice tinged with rare fondness as she described their beauty.

The first time Minthara saw you cough up one of these petals, she didn’t say much. A curious glance, a narrowing of her sharp eyes, but no words. It wasn’t until the coughing fits became more frequent, your steps faltering during marches, that her concern began to show.

It was late when Minthara pulled you aside, her voice low and commanding.

"You are not well," she stated, crossing her arms. Her silvery hair caught the moonlight, framing her expression of cold determination. "I have seen warriors collapse from less, and yet you persist in hiding this from me. Enough."

You tried to brush her off, laugh through the faint traces of blood that began to accompany the petals. But Minthara wasn’t having it. She grabbed your arm—not harshly, but firmly enough to root you in place. "Do not test my patience. I have seen death creep into the eyes of the strongest. Do not let it take you without a fight."

Her worry struck a chord in you, but how could you tell her the truth? That the disease blooming in your chest wasn’t some curse or poison but love itself? Love unspoken, unrequited—love for her.

Instead, you deflected.

"It's nothing," you said, your voice hoarse. "Probably just something I ate."

Minthara’s glare could cut through steel. "Do not lie to me."

But you lied anyway.

It wasn’t until days later, when Shadowheart offhandedly mentioned hanahaki disease, that Minthara pieced it together.

"A pitiful affliction," Shadowheart had said, her tone detached. "Born of unspoken longing. Fitting, isn’t it, that it slowly strangles those too cowardly to confess their love?"

Minthara’s heart froze. She didn’t believe in such frivolous maladies—until she did. Until she saw you again, coughing up petals that perfectly matched the flowers she adored.

That night, she confronted you again, but this time her voice was softer. Not pleading, but dangerous in its intensity.

"This is not poison," she said, holding up one of the crumpled petals you’d discarded in secret. Her eyes searched yours, demanding answers. "It is me, isn’t it? These flowers. They are my favorite. Speak plainly. Is this affliction mine to blame?"

Caught, you could only nod.

For the first time, Minthara faltered. Her lips parted as if to speak, but no words came. Her sharp, commanding presence softened into something unreadable—a mixture of guilt, disbelief, and something close to regret. She stepped closer, her fingers brushing against your cheek, her touch uncharacteristically gentle.

"You fool," she whispered, her voice low and wavering. "You would suffer this? For me?"

You tried to laugh, but it came out as a choked cough. "I didn’t think I had a choice."

Her hands moved to cradle your face, her eyes fierce yet tender. "You always have a choice. But why did you not tell me? Did you think I would cast you aside? That I would not care?"

You hesitated. "I didn’t want to risk losing you. Not when this…this might go away on its own."

Minthara shook her head, her expression hardening into resolve.

"You are a fool," she said again, but this time her voice was filled with something more profound. "But you are my fool. And if this disease takes you, it will not be because I stood idly by."

Without another word, Minthara pressed her lips to yours, the kiss fierce and unyielding. It was both a confession and a command, a declaration that she would not lose you to something as trivial as unspoken feelings.

When she pulled away, she rested her forehead against yours. "No more hiding. Whatever the outcome, we face it together. And if you think for a moment that you will slip away from me, I will hunt you down in every life to come."

You chuckled, despite the tears welling in your eyes. The tightness in your chest began to ease, the petals in your throat fading into memory. For the first time in weeks, you could breathe.

Minthara stayed by your side that night, her hand never leaving yours, a silent vow in her touch. You realized then that her love, fierce and unyielding as it was, had always been there—waiting for you to see it.

Lae'zel:

The coughs had started small—more of an inconvenience than anything else. You’d wave off the concerned glances from your companions, brushing away any inquiries with vague excuses about dry air or a minor illness. But as days turned into weeks, the fits worsened. They wracked your body with enough force to double you over, your hand pressed against your chest as though trying to hold yourself together. It wasn’t long before blood mixed with petals—delicate, crimson-edged petals, almost too beautiful to belong to something so cruel.

Lae’zel was the first to grow frustrated.

“You are a fool,” she hissed one evening, crossing her arms as you coughed into a cloth. "You weaken yourself and the group. If you cannot fight, you should return to camp and rest."

The accusation stung, though you knew it came from her fear—her inability to understand vulnerability. You’d seen it before, but this time it carried weight. This time, her words were tinged with genuine worry, buried under her gruff demeanor. You nodded weakly and promised to take care of yourself, hoping she wouldn’t press further.

It was during a sparring session that everything came to a head. You’d insisted on training despite Shadowheart’s protests and Lae’zel’s pointed glares. Your blade clashed with hers, the metallic ring echoing through the clearing. But midway through the exchange, a sharp pain tore through your chest. You staggered, clutching at your ribs, and fell to your knees as another violent cough erupted.

“Get up,” Lae’zel barked, stepping closer. “The enemy will not show you mercy for—”

Her voice trailed off as a cluster of blood-streaked petals spilled from your lips, scattering across the dirt like some grotesque offering. Her yellow eyes widened in shock, and for once, Lae’zel was silent. Shadowheart, drawn by the commotion, rushed over.

“What in the hells—” she started but froze at the sight of the petals. She exchanged a grave look with Lae’zel.

“Poison,” Lae’zel declared, her voice tight with anger. “Some coward has infected them. Or perhaps it is a curse?”

Shadowheart knelt beside you, examining the petals. “It’s not poison. This—this is something else. We need to get them to camp.”

Lae’zel didn’t argue. She hoisted you into her arms with ease, her grip firm but gentle as she carried you back. The others gathered around, their faces etched with concern, but Lae’zel barked at them to clear the way. Her jaw was set, her eyes flickering with a mix of anger and fear as she laid you down by the fire.

The petals kept coming, your breaths shallow and labored as the group deliberated. Gale, ever the scholar, was the one to piece it together. He explained the condition in hushed tones, his eyes full of pity as he spoke of unrequited love and its devastating consequences. Lae’zel’s face darkened.

“Love?” she spat, as though the word itself was a curse. “You are telling me this is some… weakness of the heart? That they are dying because of… affection?”

Her voice cracked at the end, betraying her confusion and anguish. She turned to you, crouching down so that her eyes met yours.

“Who?” she demanded, her tone sharp but her hands trembling as they hovered near your shoulder. “Who has done this to you?”

You tried to speak, but another cough interrupted, this one bringing up a single petal—a vivid red one with golden streaks. It fluttered down into Lae’zel’s palm, and she stared at it, her breath catching. It was a githyanki blossom. Her favorite flower.

The realization struck her like a blow. She froze, her eyes darting between the petal and your face.

“You…” she whispered, the word barely audible. “This… is for me?”

When you nodded weakly, her expression crumbled. For a moment, she seemed utterly lost, grappling with emotions she had no training to face. Then, without warning, she surged to her feet, pacing like a caged animal.

“This is madness,” she growled. “You should have spoken! You should have told me!”

Shadowheart, standing nearby, interjected. “Perhaps if you didn’t make yourself so unapproachable—”

“Silence, Shar worshiper!” Lae’zel snapped, her voice trembling. She turned back to you, her fists clenched at her sides. “Do you truly think so little of me? That I would let you die for… this?”

Lae’zel refused to leave your side after that. She barked orders at the others, demanding remedies and research. But more than that, she softened in her own way. She sat close to you, her hand hovering near yours as though afraid to touch. When the coughing fits came, she steadied you with surprising gentleness, her sharp tongue dulled by guilt and worry.

One night, when the camp was quiet, she spoke.

“You will not die from this,” she said firmly, though her voice wavered. “I will not allow it. If your heart is weak, then I will strengthen it. If it is pain you fear, then I will bear it with you.”

It wasn’t a confession—not exactly. But it was enough. For the first time in weeks, you felt a glimmer of hope. And as Lae’zel settled beside you, her fingers brushing against yours, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, this battle could be won.

Shadowheart:

Shadowheart was not easily rattled. She had been raised to endure, to press through pain and uncertainty without hesitation. But the moment you doubled over during your trek through the forest, coughing violently into your hands, she froze. The sound was raw, wet, and pained in a way that made even her steel-hardened heart skip a beat.

“Are you all right?” she asked, rushing to your side.

You waved her off weakly, insisting it was nothing, but the look in your eyes betrayed your discomfort. Shadowheart’s sharp gaze caught the faint smear of crimson staining your lips—and the delicate purple-black petals now scattered across your palm.

“What…?” Her breath hitched as she plucked one of the petals from your hand. “This—this isn’t normal. Did something poison you? Were you attacked without me noticing?” Her voice was firm, but beneath it lay a thread of panic.

You shook your head, trying to speak between coughs. “It’s… not poison.”

Her brows furrowed as she pocketed the petal, her mind already racing through her repertoire of healing spells and herbs.

“You don’t know that. You don’t know what it is. I—” She cut herself off, her voice cracking. “We need to get back to camp. You’re not dying. I won’t allow it.”

She practically carried you back, her protective instincts on high alert. In her eyes, the scenario only worsened. Each cough brought more petals, each more beautiful and eerie than the last. It wasn’t until she had you bundled in your bedroll, her hands glowing faintly with divine magic as she tried every healing spell she knew, that someone finally spoke the words that sent a chill through her.

“It’s not poison or sickness,” Gale said, his tone grave as he looked between the two of you. “It’s… hanahaki.”

“Hanahaki?” Shadowheart repeated, her hands pausing mid-incantation. “What is that? And why does it sound so ridiculous?”

“It’s a condition of the heart,” Gale explained carefully. “Unrequited love, to be specific. The afflicted cough up petals of flowers tied to their feelings. If left unresolved… well, it can be fatal.”

Shadowheart stiffened as the words sank in. She turned her gaze back to you, her mouth set in a grim line.

“Why didn’t you say anything? You could have—” She faltered, realization dawning. “You didn’t want anyone to know.”

You avoided her eyes, coughing weakly into the crook of your arm. More night orchid petals spilled forth, vivid and delicate, as if mocking the tension in the air.

Shadowheart stared at them, her mind whirling. Night orchids. Her favorite flower. The one she kept tucked in the pages of her journal, drawn in the margins of her maps. The one she had murmured about wistfully one night when you asked her about the things she loved, and she’d been just vulnerable enough to tell you.

Her heart sank.

“It’s me,” she whispered. “Isn’t it?”

You didn’t answer, but the look on your face was enough. The admission hung heavy in the air, a silent confirmation that felt like a blow to her chest.

Shadowheart rose abruptly, pacing to the edge of the campfire. She pressed her hands to her temples, struggling to make sense of the storm of emotions inside her.

“I thought you were dying,” she said finally, her voice low and trembling. “I thought I was going to lose you. And now I find out you’re—” She turned to look at you, her face etched with guilt and frustration. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you give me the chance to—”

She stopped herself again, shaking her head.

You reached out, your voice hoarse. “I didn’t want to burden you. It wasn’t your responsibility—”

Shadowheart cut you off, kneeling in front of you, her hands clutching yours with a fierce determination.

“Stop. Just stop. You’re not a burden, and this—” She gestured to the petals strewn between you. “This isn’t just some fleeting crush, is it?”

You shook your head, tears welling in your eyes.

“Then you should have told me,” she said, her voice softening. “Because the thought of losing you—whether to some disease or your own silence—is more than I can bear.”

Her hand cupped your cheek, her touch tentative but steady.

“You’re the one who pulled me back from the brink of doubt and despair more times than I can count. Let me do the same for you. Let me…” She hesitated, her own emotions threatening to overwhelm her. “Let me love you, as much as you clearly love me.”

Your breath hitched as her lips brushed against yours, tender and unhurried. The moment felt like a balm, soothing the ache in your chest and quelling the petals that had plagued you.

When she pulled back, a faint smile played on her lips. “There. Now you can stop coughing up flowers, though I wouldn’t mind if they were just for decoration next time.”

You laughed softly, the weight in your chest lifting for the first time in what felt like an eternity. Shadowheart pressed her forehead to yours, her voice a quiet murmur.

“No more secrets, all right? No more suffering alone.”

Jaheira:

The first time you coughed blood in Jaheira’s presence, she dismissed it as overexertion. After all, the path you walked—fighting relentless foes, delving into cursed crypts, and pushing yourselves to the brink for the good of the realm—didn’t leave much room for tenderness or rest. You both wore your wounds like a second skin. She handed you a rag, her expression a mix of mild annoyance and concern.

“Don’t overdo it, cub. Even the strongest vines snap if pulled too tight.”

You laughed weakly, brushing it off. She was right. You’d been too tired lately, your chest tightening painfully when she was near, your thoughts a whirl of what you could never tell her. Not when her heart still ached for the one she had lost. Khalid.

But the petals were harder to ignore.

The first bloom came late one evening around the campfire. A fit of coughing wracked your body, doubling you over. The others froze, their mirth over a shared story dissolving into alarm. Gale leaned in, brow furrowed, while Shadowheart grabbed her satchel of healing supplies. It was Jaheira, however, who knelt beside you, one hand on your back as you heaved.

When the petals tumbled from your lips, delicate and speckled with blood, silence fell. Gale reached for one, his fingers trembling slightly as he studied it.

“This… isn’t natural,” he murmured, as though afraid of the implications. Jaheira’s hand tightened on your shoulder.

“What have you gotten yourself into? Poison? A curse?” Her voice was stern, masking the fear in her eyes. “Tell me what you’ve done.”

“I—I don’t know,” you stammered, your throat raw. The petals scattered like confessions across the ground, their soft beauty at odds with the horror they represented.

Jaheira rose swiftly, commanding the group with her usual authority. “We find the source of this affliction. Now. Shadowheart, Halsin, assist me.”

For days, she worked tirelessly, gathering herbs and consulting every healer and scholar the group encountered. Her demeanor was sharp and businesslike, but her eyes betrayed her turmoil whenever you coughed again—when more petals spilled forth, vivid and soft, like tiny betrayals of your body. Every time she pressed you for answers, your silence wounded her further.

You wished you could tell her. But how could you confess that she was the reason? That the petals bore the hues of her favorite flower: deep golden marigolds, vibrant even in death. The disease fed on your unspoken love, choking you with everything you couldn’t say.

It was a quiet night when the truth finally came out. You’d coughed yourself awake, stumbling from your tent to avoid disturbing the others. The air was cool, the stars an uncaring audience as you doubled over by the stream, petals and blood pooling in your hands.

“For the love of the nine hells,” Jaheira’s voice was low but carried the weight of thunder.

She’d followed you, her arms crossed, though her face was shadowed with worry. She strode to you, her hand gripping your arm to steady you.

“Enough of this.” Her voice cracked, just slightly. “I’ve seen death take too many. I won’t watch it take you—not like this.”

You tried to pull away, but her grip held firm. “Jaheira, it’s not something you can fix.”

Her eyes narrowed, anger flaring. “Everything can be fixed. You’re not dying on my watch. I—” She stopped, her gaze falling to the marigold petals now stained red in the moonlight. Her lips parted slightly, and the silence between you grew sharp, tense.

“…These flowers…” Her voice was softer now, unsure. “Where have I seen these before?”

Her hand dropped from your arm as though burned. For a long moment, she stared at you, her usual composure stripped away. The realization hit her like a storm.

“Y/N…” she began, her voice unsteady. “This disease… it’s caused by—”

“Unrequited love,” you finished, the words tasting like ash. “It’s you, Jaheira. It’s always been you.”

She didn’t speak at first, her expression unreadable. For the first time, you saw cracks in her armor—the guilt, the grief, the love she’d buried for so long beneath duty and survival. She turned away, her shoulders trembling.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Because it’s not your burden to bear,” you replied. “You’ve lost so much already. I couldn’t… I didn’t want to hurt you.”

She whirled back to you, her eyes blazing. “And letting this kill you? That doesn’t hurt me?”

Your chest tightened further, the weight of her words heavier than the disease. “What could you have done? You don’t feel the same, Jaheira. And that’s fine. I’ll… I’ll live with it.”

“Clearly, you won’t,” she snapped, though her voice cracked at the end. She stepped closer, her hand brushing your cheek—hesitant, as though afraid you’d disappear. “You should have told me. You’re an idiot. A selfless, reckless idiot.”

Her touch was warm, grounding you even as your world spun.

“Jaheira…”

She sighed, pulling back. “I won’t lie to you. My heart is… complicated. But you? You mean more to me than I have allowed myself to admit.” Her gaze softened, a rare vulnerability slipping through. “I won’t let you die for such a foolish thing as loving me. We’ll find a way to heal this. Together.”

As i said previously this was so so fun to play with as a concept and can definitely see myself writing it for the boys as well. Hope you guys enjoyed it as well ! - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

[gojostan-doodles]

Local farmer/ florist, Amari Vaughn 🌸💐

As a human/ demon hybrid, Amari is gifted with immense physical abilities. When she was a kid, it was very common for her to accidentally break things since she didn't know her own strength. But her affinity for flowers encouraged her to learn how to be delicate with her hands. She realized early on that she wanted to be a florist one day. During her developmental years, she was discreetly monitored by her parents, who looked for other signs of her having supernatural powers. They were relieved to learn that Amari was as normal as everyone else (for the most part). Because of that, they opted out of telling her that she was half demon, thinking that it would only be a source of stress for her if she knew.

Amari grew up in the city without much trouble. She played a lot of sports when she was in school, but it didn't interest her that much. She enjoyed taking care of plants, but found it hard to pursue that kind of work in the city. It's too much of a concrete jungle, y'know? So for a while she gave up on the idea.

Amari worked at a construction company for about 2 years before deciding to go after the life she actually wanted. So she packed her things and took a bus ride to Pelican Town, moving into the farmhouse her grandfather left for her. Settling in took some time, but Amari adjusted to her new lifestyle. She felt right at home surrounded by lots of nature.

But of course, Stardew Valley is a really weird place. So it wasn't long before she encountered the junimos, and later Rasmodius. The "tea" she drank from the wizard not only gave her the ability to communicate with the junimos, but also unlocked her dormant supernatural abilities. She immediately gained a white streak in her hair, and while in a disoriented state, accidentally set herself ablaze and fecking collapsed 💀 Reasonably stunned, the wizard puts out her fire with magic. When she finally wakes up he apologizes, telling her that he'll look into what went wrong and report back to her as soon as he can.

In the meantime, Amari tried to return to her life as a farmer, only to be met with a new set of problems. She struggled with burning her own crops (and many, many other items). During full moons, she would undergo a physical transformation, forcing her to stay home since she stood out like a sore thumb. So yeah, her first year really sucked 🥹 It was clear by her transformation that she was half demon, but it was later confirmed by Rasmodius. Amari was really confused and angry when faced with the reality that her parents didn't bother to tell her something so important.

Things eventually got better though. Over time she figured out that being stressed causes her to combust, so she ended up burning things less often. She made a lot of lovely friends in town too, some who turned out to be just as odd as her. It was really nice knowing she wasn't alone. And eventually she married Sebastian, so things were really great for a change!

About a year into their marriage someone new showed up to the farm, a demon named Uruz. Turns out he and a few others where tasked with searching different realms in order to find Lord Wynn. He's Amari's father, and the king of the demon realm. Uruz accidentally found Amari because her aura is the same as Wynn's (and since it was the night of a full moon, it was more intense). When Uruz learned that Amari knew nothing about her powers, he took it upon himself to stay and teach her everything she needed to know. Apprehensive at first, Amari eventually agreed after talking it over with Sebastian. She felt like she couldn't rely on her dad to tell her anything. So she decided to take this as an opportunity to learn everything, about herself and the demon realm. So currently there's a menace living on their farm that they have to keep in check 😭

Since Amari is only half demon, the abilities and traits she inherited from her dad is a mystery. So when she learns about how long demons usually live, she becomes incredibly anxious about her future. But she tries not to think about it.

[masterjedilenawrites]

The Flower That Blooms In Adversity

Clone x Reader Prompt-a-thon 2025 | @cloneficgiftexchange

Rex x reader | 900 words

Content: domesticity, some angst, no dialogue

Prompt: (Spring) Rex worries a flower might die because it isn't blooming when the others do.

Note: Happy First Day of Spring! 🌸 I saw this prompt and couldn't help but think of a line from Mulan that always get me in the feels. There's something so sweet about Rex looking after a garden, and so comforting knowing that hardship can sometimes make us stronger

You'd gifted him the seeds for Life Day. He had been surprised to receive a gift, perplexed at what was inside. A tiny, weightless bag, nothing more than paper it seemed. But several tiny bumps could be felt as he gingerly ran his thumb across and his smile widened. He'd always been amazed by your home garden. He'd watch you water the flowers, would help you pick the vegetables. You'd tell him all about the plants and how to care for them and he'd listen intently but would never interfere. It was your space. Now, he'd be able to have a corner of his own.

You'd helped him germinate the seeds after the new year. He had carefully followed your instructions for potting, his brow furrowed with the utmost of concentration as he delicately covered each cell of seeds with a thin layer of soil. He had fiddled with the pots, shifting their position on the ledge by mere fractions of inches, to position them just right. He had damn near spent his entire leave of absence peeking at them, inspecting them, knowing nothing would happen so early but still being too fascinated to keep away.

You'd looked after his seedlings while he was on duty. Of course you would've taken care of them anyway, but he'd still insisted on sending you reminders. Is the temperature still right? Is the soil still moist? It's been two weeks, are they sprouting yet? You'd waited for the little green leaves to really start showing before you sent him a photo. The 50 exclamation marks in response had left none of his excitement to the imagination. You'd demanded he focus on his mission so he could come home alive and see them for himself.

You'd set aside a flower bed for him a week before the final frost. You'd guided him through the process of transplanting his precious babies into their new home and tried not to tease him for it. He'd been a little ridiculous, but also endearing, you supposed, as he fussed over their care. It was only when you'd grumbled after catching him whispering to them early in the morning did he ease up and start paying you more attention instead.

You'd left the garden gate open for him in the warmth of spring. You yourself had been tending your own plants and were okay letting him rush to see his blooming flowers before greeting you. His face had predictably lit up in awe and joy as he crouched by them, brushing his gloved fingers lightly along the petals. All the effort, all the worry and fuss, had finally produced three vibrant, beautiful flowering plants. And then his smile had become a frown as he discovered the one bulb that hadn't yet opened. You'd assured him some flowers took more time than others, but his concern only grew with each continually dormant day. 

You'd whispered a prayer to his flower when summer came. Crept outside in the middle of the night, your stomach twisting with worry. He was supposed to have checked in days ago. No one had given you answers on his battalion's status. And to make it worse, each one of his flowers had been losing their petals, withering in the sudden heat no matter what you did to protect them. You'd laid yourself in the dirt next to the fallen petals and cradled the one flower that remained. It'd been the last to bloom - he'd left before it'd opened - and it still had some growing to do. You'd spoken to it through tears and a heavy heart, promising that if it could hold on, you could, too.

You'd given up on the garden long ago. Weeks of radio silence and heat waves had gone by and you'd had no choice to but to leave it behind. You'd gone parsecs away, searching for the one thing you couldn't give up on. You'd willed yourself to believe that of all the fragile living things, he would be the one that would survive such a harsh, unforgiving world. And if he was still out there, you'd find him. You'd get him back and you'd care for him and you'd never let him go. And so you'd searched and searched and searched... You'd hoped and fought and prayed. And against all the odds, you finally got him back into your arms. Safe. Alive. Well.

He named the flower after you upon his return. You felt sad but still went out with him to assess the damage. The whole garden was a sea of brown, wilted stems and crumpled leaves and dirt as hard as rock. But standing above it all, in the humble little corner you'd so generously given him, as if untouched by any troubles, was his flower - the flower. The one that had been so slow to bloom that he'd been worried it would simply die off. Now its petals were bright, vivid, beautiful. He didn't rush to it this time, instead staying in the shade by your side. You wrapped your arms around him and held him close as he whispered his love to you.

The flower that blooms in adversity is the rarest and most beautiful of all.

Every Character Tag: @dangerousstrawberrypie, @justanothersadperson93, @arctrooper69, @sleepycreativewriter, @techie-bear, @theroguesully, @cw80831, @cdblake1565, @msmeredithrose Clone Bois Tag: @kaijusplotch, @rebel-finn, @lucyysthings, @marvel-starwars-nerd, @nekotaetae, @severalseashellsbytheseashore, @lackofhonor, @flowered-bicycles, @foodmoneyandcats, @nahoney22, @dangraccoon, @lulalovez, @aconstructofamind, @skellymom, @the-mom-friend-dot-com, @tardisgirl420

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🌙 Master Master List | ☘️ Stories Master List

[emmyinjapan]

Winter Peonies at Hakozaki Shrine – Part 1: A Chilly but Beautiful Visit

It was a cold, dry, and ridiculously windy day, the kind where your face feels like it’s being gently sandblasted by nature. But despite the weather’s best efforts to turn me into an icicle, I was determined to visit the Winter Peony Festival at Hakozaki Shrine.

This annual flower event runs from New Year’s Day to mid-February, showcasing 200 peonies across 20 varieties, all blooming beautifully in the Flower Garden. As someone who absolutely loves peonies, orchids, and wisterias, I couldn’t miss it—especially since the flowers would start wilting soon. Time was of the essence!

When I arrived, the first thing I noticed was how quiet and peaceful it was. No crowds, no jostling for the best photo spots—just serene beauty and a crisp winter breeze trying its best to freeze my soul. I made my way to the entrance and happily paid the 500 yen fee—which, in my opinion, was a bargain for such a stunning display.

The garden itself is a work of art, designed in the style of a Japanese karesansui (dry landscape garden). The peonies stand proudly under traditional straw hats (warabocchi), which protect them from the harsh winter elements. The whole scene looks like something straight out of an Edo-period painting—delicate, elegant, and absolutely mesmerising.

Peonies, known as "botan" (牡丹) in Japanese, have been cherished in Japan for centuries. Originally introduced from China during the Nara period (710–794), they quickly became a symbol of wealth, nobility, and good fortune. The Japanese particularly admire the winter-blooming varieties, as they represent resilience and quiet strength—blooming despite the harsh conditions, much like I was attempting to do in my very underprepared outfit.

The Hakozaki Shrine Flower Garden isn’t just about peonies, either—it showcases a rotating selection of seasonal flowers throughout the year, making it a year-round paradise for plant lovers. But in winter, it’s these vibrant pinks, reds, and whites that steal the show, creating an enchanting contrast against the minimalistic gravel garden.

As I walked around, admiring the blooms and desperately wishing I’d worn one more layer, I couldn’t help but think—if a flower can thrive in this freezing weather, then surely, so can I… right? (Spoiler: My fingers were numb, but I pressed on.)

To be continued… 🌸❄️

—Emmy

[chiiyuuvv]

sakura 🌸 k. minjae

it's like nature was responsible for meeting your loved one

stranger/boyfriend!minjae x fem!reader 0.6k listen to the song!!

▸ 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺?

Sakura, or cherry blossoms, are well known for their image of fortune and beauty, the soft pink hue of the petals falling delicately from their stem, littering the ground in which people and animals walk on. The said creatures could even find it scattered in their hair or fur after a lovely stroll in the park, picking it off of their coats or even eating it if one desired. You could relate to cherry blossoms since they also represented the start of something new. Unlike your situation, though, these flowers were very ephemeral, lasting up to a limited time of two weeks. Your situation was (or so you hoped to be) eternal. You knew you’d live under these circumstances for the rest of your life with a smile on your face the entire time, you were sure of it.

You crouched down near these light pink flowers, your right leg bent in front of your face with your cheek resting against your knee cap. An annoyed sigh leaves your lips as you fiddle with your soon to be dirty white shoelaces, which seemed difficult to tie at the moment. You almost gave up on the idea and opted to simply tuck them into your shoe, when you hear a tree branch snap near your figure, your eyes averting from your feet to find the culprit of the sound. There stood a boy who looked about your age, a pair of black framed glasses sitting relaxed on the tip of his nose while also giving more definition to his facial structure. His boba eyes were round as they shake slightly, looking down to the pink littered floor as he silently bows apologetically for disturbing you, before giving a polite smile and continuing his walk.

You remained in your crouch position stunned, for you have never met a guy who looked so.. Pretty. He wore comfortable sweatpants and a plaid button up you swore was difficult to match with, yet he was able to sweep you off your feet, leaving you breathless in return. Your mind began to race as you thought back to the countless times you visited the park, each one of your flashbacks leaving you in a trance since you don’t ever recall the boy to be in this location. 

Picking yourself up and dusting off your legs, you chuckle at yourself, feeling so foolish to fall for an unknown stranger who could have very bad intentions for his peers around him. But somehow your heart was able to convince your mind to pipe down, letting your rapid heartbeat do the talking for just this once.

A laugh echoes out into the open when you feel a hand wrap around yours, twirling you around with a smile on your boyfriend’s face when you finally collide, his hands trailing down your body to gently hold onto your waist. He begins waltzing you around the empty park with adoration coating his eyes, spinning you around once more before pulling you closer to his body. Delicately, he lifts your jaw with his finger, letting his lips linger onto yours as his eyes flutter shut. After smiling into the kiss, you wrap your arms around your lover, only releasing when you feel something land on your head. It was a light pink petal, the same one that witnessed your first glance down to your first kiss, a wave of nostalgia washing over yourselves as you rethink your past. It’s like nature was watching your relationship with a smile on their faces, happy they made another couple under their precious leaves.

︴bonus! happy birthday minjae !! credit to the server for coming up with the idea and @marw-lilia for extending it and @starryriize for proofreading it. I also going to give this a part two, to showcase @marw-lilia's thoughts on how they get together and everything. speaking of writing, please click here for an important message regarding my writing schedule

▸ taglist 📬 @hyunukitty , @cake1box , @mars101 , @nenede , @yuniniverse , @hunchan444 , @s00buwu , @cherrycolaberry , @wonootnoot , @pinievsev , @bluw0-ok

🎬 navi

@chiiyuuvv on tumblr . do not steal works/headers/line dividers

[asterakix]

this new official art left me speechless 😭 the sweet and enchanting atmosphere it radiates is simply incredible, majestic, lovely, but what struck me the most is Ryu’s delicate, graceful, ethereal gaze 🥺💖 I have no words to describe him seirously, he’s an angel, a muse, a true wonder of nature 🥺 I could lose myself for hours just admiring him, and every time a new official art comes out, he somehow surpasses himself, becoming even more perfect and mesmerizing to me than he already is 😭 no matter what gaze he has, he's always perfect to me, but here he radiates something purer, even more graceful and majestic than always, he's like a flower himself, and I'm so happy I finally have a cherry blossom official art with him bc it's my fav set and I couldn't wait to get one about him since when those about Senku, Gen, Tsu and Ukyo came out ❤️ I couldn't wait to see my man surrounded by cherry blossom petals 🌸🩷 they suit him sm, they make him even more elegant and graceful and divine 😭💖 Ryu never ceases to amaze me with his perfection, but this time, he has truly exceeded all my expectations ❤️ I could stare at him for hours and never get tired of him because he is the most beautiful masterpiece nature could ever create. His soft, gentle gaze never fails to reflect his pure soul, and this art and the way they drew his face and gaze absolutely captured his whole essence ❤️ I’m every day sooo proud to love such an extraordinary being like him, someone who can comfort my soul like no one else does. Ryu will always be my one and only love, my greatest love ❤️ I love him so deeply ❤️

[bramblepurr]

🌸🌧️ finally the finished comic for my uni project!! i’m so very proud of this :] thank u to everyone that took/spread my survey for this!! mwah mwah mwah!!! love evie and love every trans woman before its too late!!

id below cut/in alt text!! bc it’s very long!

[ID: A digital comic featuring lyrics from the song fake violins by casio dad. The comic is in shades of white and purple, getting progressively more pink. The two characters are elves named evie and cosmo. evie is transfem, has medium-length curly hair, and has a freckles with some hair on her face. cosmo is a fat transmasc and has curly long hair with light streaks in it, as well as facial hair.

Panel 1: A nailpolish brush lifts out from a container reading “True Black Nail Polish,” the hand and rest of the person hidden.

Panel 2: Two hands pull on dark thigh-high socks, the rest of the person hidden.

Panel 3: A face looking into its reflection, only the lower half of the face.

Panel 4:  evie stands, wearing dark high-rise socks, a dark skirt, and a white t-shirt, and black nailpolish. She’s the person featured in the first few panels. She smiles, looking forward. A computer in the background has a search term for transfem, with the article “I Am A Transwoman. I Am In The Closet. I Am Not Coming Out.” visible. Lyrics in the background read “She never broke any windows A love like starving and waiting and fake violins Bowed their song through the air ducts fistfulls of anticonvulsants stuck in her throat.”

Panel 5: evie looks directly forward, at the viewer, looking upset. Lyrics in the background read “She gave her all that she could do picked up a hairpin and bent it to make a ring”

Panel 6: evie looks forward, in a dark sweater, while cosmo smiles at her from behind, wearing a dark t-shirt.

Panel 7: A white heart in a purple circle has the words “she her.” Lyrics in the background read “Gave her all that she had to She tried the door, it wouldn’t open”

Panel 8: cosmo, wearing a white t-shirt, stretches with his hands behind his back. evie wears a sweater and overalls, and looks nervous, sitting to the side.

Panel 9: cosmo sealing the ends of a ribbon with a lighter

Panel 10: Cosmo reaches out to evie, his hands with black nailpolish as well, and smiles softly.

Panel 11: Evie looks down, slightly surprised, noticing a tied up ribbon bow on her overalls that cosmo put there.

Panel 12: White lily of the valley flowers sit delicately in a bottle with the text reading “Estradiol Injection”.  Lyrics in the background reads “So let’s start again together I’ll run away forever You know I can’t help coming back to you Break all our friends who ever loved us and made life better” 

Panel 13: evie sits on a bed, smiling and looking at the viewer. she wears a bralette, a skirt, and light high-rise socks. Lyrics in the background read “Fuck them, they don’t have any clue!” end ID]

[windsweptinred]

I wrote this for a fun little flower prompt challenge between myself, @bobbole and @rriavian. 😊🌸

This Bobble's prompt: Holly -The terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day and you - Destiny and Daniel

(This went a whole lot more angst ridden (and longer) than I was intending bobbole. Fear not, there's going to be some comfort with that hurt.. Destiny really is going to try! Warnings for Mother Night being Mother Night.)

 Little Brother 

"Greetings to you, my Mother."

Destiny of the Endless paused in the entrance of Mother Night's inner sanctum. It was a place awash with the grandiose beauty of her domain. Wondrous to behold, yet undercut by an all encompassing frigidity, an eerily eternal silence, horrific for the senses to experience . A place of awe and dread that perfectly reflected its mistress. 

Night stood in the centre, an imposing figure, instructing all about her with a commanding idleness. She acknowledged his presence with little fanfare, gracing him with a smug smirk. 

"Destiny, you've come to visit me. How delightful." Her honeyed tone was imbued with a cutting sarcasm that Destiny recognised all too well in young Desire's own barbed compliments. Crossing his free arm about his book, he inclined his head, nonplussed at her taunts. 

"You called for me, I came."

"Oh Destiny, always so pragmatic. " She sighed disdainfully. "You have far too much of your father in you." She moved leisurely to join him, sweeping a finger along the spine of his vast book, flicking maliciously at the great chain that bound it to him. Eyes alighting with glee as its metallic clink echoed around the vast, shadowed chamber. Then with an affected air she pinched at his cheeks, cooing tenderly, "An unfortunate eventuality. But you are still my stalwart boy. Yes?" She grinned excitedly, straightening his robes in an overly maternal display. "You have brought him, haven't you? My dutiful Destiny."

A brief flash of something that could have been reluctance passed over Destiny's face. Before he swept aside to reveal the slight, white figure concealed behind his cloaked frame. 

Unwittingly finding himself the centre of attention, Daniel, the new Lord Shaper, King of Dreams, Master of Nightmares, Dream of The Endless, visibly baulked. Fretfully he swept a curl behind his ear, fingers continuing to twist and tug at his white locks in an anxious manner. His starlight eyes dashing hither and there in an obvious show of apprehension, before hesitantly glancing up to meet Night's gaze. He gave a slight smile, a hopeful, frail little thing and bowed his head in regard. 

"Lady Mother." He addressed her with a timid reverence. 

Night stared at the man clothed in white before her with an unimpassioned air, before turning to her eldest. She waved an enquiring hand towards Daniel, face twisted in an obvious show of revulsion. 

"What have you brought me Destiny?" She enquired, her voice laced with faux curiosity. 

Destiny's brows twitched in aggravation. 

"You asked for brother Dream, mother. And here he stands before you." 

Night turned with great reluctance towards Daniel again and gave him a critical glance. He shrunk under her gaze, eyes dimming, fingers grasping at his long sleeves as if seeking some form of comfort from them. 

Night gave a sickly sweet smile. 

"Why, my foolish eldest….This is not Dream." She started towards Daniel, who curled further into himself as she approached. "My most cherished, most precious child."

Grasping his chin cruelly, she twisted it this way and that, before flinging it to the side with the ferocity of a slap. 

"This… base THING you have presented is not my little Night Terror!" 

She curled her lip and turned up her nose. "It reeks of scorched humanity!"

She turned away from him then, dramatically throwing herself into Destiny's arms with a pitiful wail. Completely unconcerned by the tear that trailed a delicate path down Daniel's pale cheek. 

"Oh you are a cruel boy to taunt your mother so." Night fisted Destiny's robes, dangling forlornly from him, letting out woeful, overdramatic cries. "They take my sweet Dream from me and suppose 'THAT' will be compensation enough. 

All the while, Destiny stood, expression unaffected. His unseeing gaze fixed on the slowly crumpling form of his brother. 

"Your behaviour is unbecoming." He reproached her steadily. 

Rearing back with a snarl, she shoved him viscously. Sending him staggering, desperately trying to maintain his stance and grasp of his book. 

"How dare you! Ungrateful, spiteful child!" 

With that, she rounded on Daniel, sweeping towards him with furious intent. 

"And you! How dare you look at me with his eyes. You are not worthy of my starlight!" 

She gave his head a hard smack, watching as the deep black of his irises bleed to verdant green in shock. 

"Keep them green!" She demanded spitefully. "Like the provincial little planet that birthed you."

She gave a dismissive wave of her arm, turning her back on both of them, a silent but clear sign for them to leave her presence. 

"Begone with this dust born Dream, eldest." She ordered with steely absolution. "I do not want it in my presence again!" 

For a while, the deathly silence of Night's realm hung over the trio, thick and suffocating. Before Destiny let out a loud, aggrieved exhale, moving towards the younger Endless, who stood, near bent double with grief. Daniel's eyes gleamed and chin wobbled precariously, yet he held his composure with an admirable will. 

Raising his arm, so his long sleeves draped like a protective barricade between supposed mother and child, Destiny gestured towards their exit. 

"Come," He instructed. "We will take our leave of this place."

He watched as Daniel gave one last, despondent look towards Night before giving him a mournful nod in agreement. When, however, after several moments the younger had made no move to leave, Destiny sighed, grasping one slender wrist in a firm but gentle hold. "Come Dream." He said pointedly. And in a flurry of pages they left the realm of Night behind them. 

…………….

The landscape unfurled around them like an opening book. Infinite darkness gave way to a hazy grey blue sky and the sharp cool of night lessened to a comfortable chill that tickled at the nose and fingers. The smell of foliage, half living, half dead, musty, yet comforting filled the air and in the distance, childish cries of joy could be heard accompanying the screech of ancient swing sets. A small park, tranquil and picturesque in its autumn hues. 

Despair seemed to consume Daniel all at once, his strength fleeing him as he slumped dejectedly onto a nearby wall. "I never asked for this." He muttered, voice thick with misery. "Yet they treat me as if I struck his killing blow for my own advantage…. I never asked for this."

Destiny inclined his head as if conceding a truth. "And yet you are, always have been and always will be Dream of the Endless." He stated, in a tone that left little room for argument. "A fact Night knows all too well. This was a chance for her to act out her own selfish dramatics. Nothing more." 

Daniel raised two pleading, wet, life-green eyes to meet Destiny's vacant pupils.  "I am no good at this."

"And yet you will be."

Daniel leant forward, resting his head against the ancient tome Destiny held to his chest. 

"I will never be him." 

"No." Destiny confirmed resolutely. He felt the younger sag at his words. 

"But you will be you, and that, in time, will be better." 

Daniel pulled away, regarding his older brother with a small, sorrowful smile. 

"Do you think so?" He asked, voice quivering. 

"I do not think, I know. I am all that is between the beginning and end. I am every tomorrow, every path ventured. Every fate foretold. I know this." 

He raised his free hand to rest it atop of his younger siblings head. "I am your elder brother, and I know this." 

Daniel clutched briefly at the others sleeve in a silent show of thanks before Destiny withdrew his arm. Finally acknowledging their surroundings, he glanced around them, taking their surroundings in curiously. 

"Where are we big brother?" 

"Where you need to be." Destiny answered cryptically, turning to the regard the misshapen gravel path that lay to their right. 

Daniel quirked his brow inquiringly, following the elders gaze as a woman he knew all too well, rounded the corner. 

Lyta Hall had changed little since he had last seen her. Still a statuesque beauty, despite the air of  inconsolable grief that hung about her like a shroud. Though today, she seemed somewhat content. Swinging the light grocery bag that she carried in time with the light tune she hummed to herself, taking in the autumnal serenity of the park. That was, until her gaze alighted on them. 

Her eyes widened in astonishment, the bag she clutched, slipping from her shock slack fingers and landing with a squelching thud which promised irrevocably ruined products.

"Daniel?" She asked in disbelief. Both stared at the other, amazement and apprehension intermingled across their features.

She reached out towards him, almost instinctively, "Daniel… my baby?" She asked, soft, desperate and hopeful. 

Daniel shook his head frantically, expression screwing into one of abject misery. "I'm not, I'm not…" He tried to  grind out until his resolve finally broke. The first anguished sob fell from his lips, followed by another as his body crumpled in on itself. He slipped from his perch on the wall, descending to the ground… Only to be swept up into Lyta's waiting arms. Tenderly tucking his head beneath her chin, she rocked him soothingly like a babe in arms. 

"Don't cry, don't cry." She murmured to him. Running gentle caresses through his white locks, sweeping away his tears devotedly and placing loving kisses to his brow. Completely oblivious and uncaring of the commotion they were causing in the otherwise tranquil park. "It's alright, it's alright. My baby. Don't cry.  Mummy's here. Mummy's got you. Don't cry."

Destiny spared one last glance towards once mother and once child. Daniel had curled eagerly into Lyta's maternal hold, clutching desperately at her as his heartache poured from him. Neither spared the elder Endless a glance, lost entirely in each other's embrace. 

"Be well, little brother." He wished the young dream Lord earnestly. 

And then, he was gone. 

(I had to really hold back from making Destiny too sentimental in this, make him act how he would act and not how I wanted him to act. Poor Daniel. I love him so but I don't half make him suffer in fics. 🙈) 

I'm posting this here rather than on A03 as I want to work it into the next chapter of what was 'Dandelion Wishes' …Now, 'Turn of the Wheel' . It needed renaming to match the entire theme of the fic. 😁 Anyway, I hope you…is 'enjoyed it' the right phrase? 😅) 

[candyapplebuildaheadmate]

OMGG I LOVE YOUR HEADMATE PACKS SO MUCHHH may i request a lvl 3 my melody fictive? make her a caretaker and just genuinely a really sweet person pleasee thank you!!

-💜

My Melody

Fictive - Level 3

♥ Name - Melody

♠ Age - Young Adult

♥ Pronouns - She / They / Fwu / Love / Lovely / 🩷 / 🩷self / Bun / Bunself / Lace / Laceself / heart / heartself

♠ Face claim -

♥ Species - Bunny (?)

♠ Height - 4'4 (Very very short lol)

♥ Fandom - Hello Kitty and Friends

♠ Type - Fictive

♥ orientation - Asexual / pansexual / Heartfriend

♠ Gender - Demigirl / sweetcouldic / Lacefem / Bunnygender

♥ Sign off - 🩷 / 🍡🐇 / 🐰🩷 / 🌷🐇 / 🌸

♠ typing quirk - Uses cutesy and gentle words, loves using emoticons and kaomojis like (*´˘`*)♡ // (≧∇≦)/ // ^_^ // >:L // Σ(゜゜) She occasionally will use a w in place of an L

Ex; omg I wove those things sm! / I litewally wuv that!! (She thinks it's cute)

♥ Pos triggers - Flowers, her favorite show, animals such as cats puppies and birds, being outside at a park or taking a walk or even just seeing cute flowers in the grass during a walk, being around a family member or friend that she likes talking too and being around.

♠ Neg triggers - Having to keep the body calm, panic attacks or meltdowns in general, someone infront panicking or needing assistance, gathering littles from the front during times when they can't be in front

♥ Roles - Caretaker / protector / shepherd

♠ Likes - Cute things, pink, animals, flowers like roses and tulips, she likes sweets like tea and cupcakes and baking, she loves plushies and having tea parties, she likes dressing up and taking selfies and playing idle games like cat cafe and paint by numbers. Taking care of kids and plants are her major skills, she's patient and delicate with things like taking care of life. She likes slice of life shows and animes, since they're always so calming.

♥ Dislikes - she HATES loud and rowdy situations. Seeing others upset and in distress makes her panic slightly as well, even if she keeps calm, she's worried out of her mind for the other person and will do whatever she can to help even if it stresses her out slightly. She hates focusing on herself too much, taking care of others is what makes her happy is what she tells herself.

♠ Behavior - very selfless, and gentle. She's soft spoken and is more of a listener than a yapper. She likes hearing others talk, and seeing them happy. When she's front she's typically front to take care of the body but when she has spare time she's tidying up, decorating, or playing cute games she found on the app store. She's a very calm and collected person, she hates overstimulating shows and games and music.

♥ Front Behavior - Usually fronting for hours on end taking care of the body and those in cofront, she mostly fronts with littles to take care of them and make sure they don't do anything that could harm them or the body unknowingly. She's typically only ever in cofront with littles or people who may need extra support with fronting on their own, she'd never say no to helping someone out after all.

ACK I'M SO SORRY IDK WHY IT DIDN'T SAVE THE VERSION WITH SONGS BUT THANK YOU AND I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS!!!

[eighties-goth-suicide-note]

🎀

♥️

🔮

🌘

☂️

🍒

🍓

🥩

🥀

🌸

🌺

💖

💘

💌

💋

⛓️

🔪

answer to every single one or im using the last emoji to unalive myself

Hello my little Dove ♡︎

🎀 - How did you meet your Darling?

Well. . . . we met on a dating app ^___^' not our proudest fact but ... we fell in eachother personalities and were in a 3 day online relationship before seeing eachother!! thats so adorable

♥️- What's your favorite thing about your darling?

Beutiful, long eyelashes....and ocean blue eyes.. *blushes cutely* I also think that you have such kind and delicate soul but also the other half is filled with pure insanity and possesivness!!

🔮- What is your ideal date?

I just need your presence Darling, but im weak for forest, picnic dates, it would be so nice to admire the beauty of the nature with you! Juts imagine how lovely the birds would sing just for us, lonely in the woods. I have very good orientation in field, so taking you to a meadow deep in the forest wouldn't be a problem for me. We would have a delectable picnic with pastries I prepared all by myself and then I would try to paint you or play a song for you!! I also love museum dates . . . im a sucker for culture, I just find humans so interesing, I can watch paintings and wander what was the point behind it? Or watch some artifacts and imagine people, just like us, but many years ago living their little lives! Just like us now, we are also living little lives that take part in big history ! Ahhhh I can ramble for you for hours ! (´｡• ω •｡`)'

🌔- What is your ideal yandere/darling scenario?

I am drolling everyday at the thought of getting creepy letters.. .. ones are full of pure love, how my stalker wants to marry me, thinks im beautiful porcelain doll, they need me like oxygen, other with just lustful disgusting thoughts!! and the last - possesive, dangerous ones!! How im being stalked, how they love taking pictures of me, how they will kill all tthe people i talk to!! nhh g h g hh being followed would be sooo sooo scary i would be sooo terrifed that i would stay in my room and and then you would break into it because you will miss me soo much!!.. also kidnapping.. heh do i need to say more..

for me being yandere, i would find your scared face so adorable! You cant even imagine how awful i can get! i play the role of weak, petite doll for a reason, one day i will lock you up in my basemen . . . or maybe just put collar on you and chain you to the wall so i can see you right after entering living room. . . ahhh... . . to have my little pet waiting for me after a long day . . . i could do anything i want, the good and the bad, , that would be so fun to have you all defendless.. i could just put knife to your neck, scream at you . . ohh ho i would love that salty tears!! I would lick them off without second thought. And you would succumb to all my orders!!! you will be my pet and i will be your master ^__^ But with my harsh traning.. comes rewards, you will be the one reciving attention from me, i would shower you with kisses, make you homemade meals to watch your health ! It would be our little secret. I will be the source of all your happiness, sorrow and fear.

☂️- Do you have a rainy day plan for you and your darling for when you're stuck inside?

My darling playing brawl stars and hugged in his arm reading some good book and drinking hot tea ! (〃＾▽＾〃)

🍒- What are your yandere types (if you have them)?

I have them all in my bio silly... . but im both sadistic and masohistic... it just depends how im feeling :3

🍓- What is your favorite yandere trope or stereotype?

STALKER X VICTIM, the obsessive possesive ones, or when darling gets mad at yandere and they start crying, begging for forgivness on knees mnnn.

🥩- What is your favorite metaphor for love?

“The moon is beautiful, isn't it?”  ִֶָ☾ ⟡ ݁₊

🥀- What would you gift your darling for a special occasion?

lego. or maybe some game... or flowers..because a beautiful boy like you deserve whole bouqet!

🌸- What is your least favorite yandere trope or stereotype?

really dense/oblivious love interests.. i like when yan hides for beggining, sends anonymous signs, ther darling gets so paranoid and then - yan catches them like a wild animal ^__^

🌺- What are you and your darlings respective aesthetics?

I adore gothic, dark academia, dark aesthetic... and my bf is just geek >w<

💖- Would you donate your organs to your darling if needed?

YES. But im afraid im to small for him >___<

💘- Do you have a future plan for you and your darling?

Yes, I can wait for you to finally be in the same uni as me and live together my love :3

💌- What was your first introduction to the yandere community/how did you find out you were a yandere?

Since I can remember I was a fan of dark fiction, I remember I found a stalker au usuk.... YES I WAS A HETALIA FAN. and also THE pregame saiouma fanfics... i have cluster B disorder so intense feelings for my favorite person was always a thing, but before my little lamb it was only platonic.

💋 - What is your love language?

Acts of service? Im busy girl so I always get happy when someone does little things for me. Quality time, I want to spend every second building great memories. Also getting long messages about devotion to me.

⛓️- What would break you?

Getting cheated on.

🔪- How far would you go to express your love?

Im capable of hurting myself or deleting everyone from my life just for one person. ( ❛ᴗ❛ )

Ahhh it got longer than i thought, I hope you enjoyed reading all of this sweetheart!! I hope you will send me more anons or repost more insane things i wuv you (〃＾▽＾〃)

[cherry-vennom]

When you get this, please respond with five things that make you happy! Then, send to the last ten people in your notifs 🖤

So many things make me happy...❣️ I am so blessed. Here are 5—

1. Being included in little Tumblr activities like this. I've been here for over a decade and have been included in a handful of them, delights me every time 😄🌸 Thank you for passing this on to me 🥰

2. Milk chocolate. I'm including this little piece of cocoa happiness because I just finished off a Cadbury milk chocolate bar with almonds that my fella brought home for me just a couple days ago along with a Snickers that I also already ate 😋 Love chocolate! Related side note - I recently confirmed (long time speculated) my genealogic roots to Aztec Native American people, as well as learned that not only did they rip still-beating hearts out of the chests of men with their bare hands 🫀 as means for religious sacrifice, but they also considered chocolate to be more precious than gold, used it as currency 🙂‍↕️ and are considered the first people to have "invented" edible chocolate. Checks out 🙃💖

3. Having such a close relationship with my daughter, all the precious moments and memories 💗 Her aura and personality, her cute little face!! Spending time with her is so cozy. This evening we decorated the house a bit for Christmas and then watched some Christmas classics like Frosty The Snowman and Rudolph. Her and I are constantly finding reasons to laugh through life. She is such a treasure and I am honored to be her mama, can't say that enough.

4. I have so many beautiful things and completely gorgeous connections with others and vividly intricate feelings about it all. My home is adorned with crystals and gems and books and art, friendly house plants and the most precious pets; beautiful happy faces with beautiful souls to match. I have a gorgeous little family I'm blessed to have been born into, as well as the family of my very own I continue to find and choose and grow, and the most incredible friends. I have profound romantic connections just at my fingertips.. and possibilities for more perfect babies. Closets full of faux fur, sparkly fabric, satin bows, platform ribbon lace-ups, color. Immediate access to organic nutrition, clean water, warmth. I love when I really get to reflect on how beautiful my life is and how thankful I am to be me and to have all that I do. Moments in time like this when I'm just completely in awe, grateful, and both incredibly humbled yet simultaneously feeling as though I have it all and the whole world is at my feet🎀; truly appreciative of everything in my exquisite little life exactly the way it is.

5. Me! I make me so happy. I love waking up to me! And spending all day and all night with her, forevermore. It's not always blissful and "perfect" (yet, it always is..💎), there have definitely been moments when I wish I could just get away, get a break - but ugh, her darling and precious sharp little face, an anchor in the chaos. Her big, dark and expressive warm-honey alien eyes full of love and ferocity. Her silky dark curls, rose petal soft skin, perfectly proportionate petite, powerful and mighty in every which way and yet so delicately soft. The way she deeply considers others, her innate ability to feel how they feel and see how they see - blurring the lines between self and other, gender fluidity, to find herself in a flower, a cloud, a beast - but never loses her own spark and her own take on things. A truly remarkable little deity in which to witness divinity unfurling itself from. She loves so hard! Loyalty and compassion unyielding. An artistic masterpiece in motion, ever evolving progression. Her expansiveness dripping with the tremendous love both and all of creation and consciousness bestow upon her - it saturates and radiates through all things and all of time, and beyond and within nothingness. Sometimes the immensity of that love is such an incomprehensible behemoth that it seems any way of attempting to fully express it through the lens of humanity falls short of true comprehension. Sometimes it seems like the other me's cannot truly fathom how in love I am. Therefore in the behemoth do I miss the entire love monstrosity? The answer is yes because love is constantly being made more, new, reaching deeper, paving higher - love is infinite, and as infinite is, infinite does. I am love and I love being her, I love being me.

[alkaline-nails]

Summer Nail Designs to Try Right Now! ☀️

Hey nail art lovers! 💅✨

Summer is here, and it's time to bring some sunshine to your nails. Whether you love bright colors or fun patterns, I've got some awesome ideas to make your nails pop this season. Let's dive in!

Bright and Bold 🌈

Summer is all about vibrant, eye-catching colors. Think neon pinks, electric blues, and sunny yellows. These shades are perfect for making a statement. Add some fun patterns like stripes, polka dots, or even some tropical designs to really stand out.

Beachy Vibes 🌊

Bring the beach to your nails with ocean-inspired designs. Go for shades of blue, turquoise, and sandy beige. Add some cute seashells, starfish, or wave patterns to complete the look. Perfect for those beach days or just dreaming of the sea!

Fruit Fun 🍉

Nothing says summer like fresh fruit! Try out some fruity designs with watermelon, pineapple, or citrus patterns. These playful designs are sure to bring a smile to your face and are perfect for a fun, casual look.

Floral Fantasy 🌸

Flowers are always in style, especially in summer. Go for bright, colorful floral designs or keep it simple with delicate, pastel flowers. Either way, your nails will look fresh and fabulous.

Minimalist Magic ✨

If you prefer a more understated look, minimalist designs are perfect. Stick to neutral colors like white, nude, or soft pastels and add simple geometric patterns or tiny accents. Chic and sophisticated!

No matter your style, there's a summer nail design out there for you. Experiment with different colors, patterns, and textures to find what you love. Happy painting! 🎨💖

Full ideas: https://nailarts.worldculturepost.com/2024/07/summer-nail-designs.html

[ghost-cherry-blossom]

Appleblossom Week 2024 🌸🍎

Day One — Paint 🎨🖌️

@appleblossomweek

Under a twilight sky streaked with the last warm colors of the day, Wally and Julie were setting up their little face painting station on the patio. The air was fresh, filled with the scent of pinewood and freshly planted daisy’s that they both planted together earlier in the day. The neighborhood hummed with the distant sounds of their neighbors coming back home from a day of working and fun activities.

“This is going to be so much fun,” Julie had a bounce in her step as she spread out their supplies—an array of vibrant face paints, brushes of various different sizes, paper towels, face wipes, a small mirror, polaroid camera, film for said camera, and a bowl of water.

The blue-haired puppet grinned, his dark eyes sparking with mischief. “Are you ready to become a masterpiece my dear Blossom?” he teased.

“Only if you’re ready to be my canvas!” she shot back, poking his side playfully. Wally chuckled, placing the chairs to face each other and helped Julie with spreading out their supplies and organizing them into stations.

They decided to start with simple designs. The blonde-haired rainbow monster dipped a fine brush into the green paint and began with delicate strokes on her partner’s cheek. She was surprisingly gentle for someone known for her bouncing off the walls and playful nature. He closed his eyes, feeling the brush glide over his skin, leaving a cool, ticklish trail.

“What’s it going to be Blossom?” Wally questioned, resisting the urge to peek at his significant other’s handiwork. His imagination ran wild with possibilities—a butterfly (no bugs are more of Frank’s style), or maybe some delicate floral designs (she does love flowers).

“It’s a surprise my darling gentleman, now hush, I need to concentrate.” Julie stuck out her tongue as she continues to paint his face, giddy to see his reaction to her craft. When she finally finished, Julie handed him the small mirror trying to hold back her giggles.

He opened his eyes and burst out laughing. His Blossom gave him a green beard, scar, and attempted to draw an eyepatch on him. “You made me into a pirate my love.”

“Aarghhhh Captain Darling, the ship is sinking!” She cries out and pretended to fall out of her chair, bursting into fits of giggles. He just shook his head and smiles from her silliness. “Alright Quartermaster Joyful, it’s your turn.” He pats the seat and then got his brush ready, dipping it into a lovely shade of burgundy paint. The blonde got up quickly and sat down, closing her eyes in anticipation and curiosity of what he will paint on her face (since he is the artist between the two of them).

He started on her forehead; the paint was cool against her warm pink felt skin. Wally’s strokes were confident and sure, a reflection of his artistic flair. Watching Julie relaxed into his touch as he cupped her cheek with his hand to get a better angle. Her features softened by the trust she has in him; it made his heart swell with love and warmth for his beautiful Blossom.

Occasionally, he would stroke her cheek as he continues painting on her face. Minutes later, he leans back to admire his work, “You can look now Jules.”

The rainbow monster opened her eyes and took the mirror from the table. Painted across her forehead was various burgundy dahlias. The intricate and delicate designs were vivid, simple yet evocative. The message behind it was loud and clear, bringing a soft smile on her lips. Julie wrapped her arms around his waist and brought him into a hug. Without a second thought, he wrapped his arms around her too, enjoying her warmth and the moment.

What felt like hours of pure bliss turned out to be a few minutes once they parted. They spent the rest of the evening adding to their face paintings, turning each other into living canvases. Sometimes getting into silly spats and smearing each other with paint. Julie’s red dress had splats of yellow, pink, blue, and pink. While her face ended up with a garden of flowers blooming across her cheeks and forehead. Wally’s outfit had some splotches of red, green, purple, and black. He sported a menagerie of doodles of hearts, apples, smiley faces, and cat whiskers. As the stars emerged and the sidewalk lights turn on, they sat back to admire their work and each other.

The face paints were more than just colors on their skin; they were expressions of their love and trust for each other.

Julie leaned her head on Wally’s shoulder. “We should do this more often,” she murmured.

“Of course Blossom,” He agreed, his voice soft as he leans his head on hers, being mindful of the horns on her head. “It’s a reminder of how much fun we can have together.” Wally glanced at the pictures they took of each painting they did on each other’s faces. Some individually, others together and doing silly poses.

In that moment, surrounded by their colorful creations and the serene night, they felt a deep connection, their love painted in every stroke and line on their face.

[damnedrainbows]

🌸 Put a flower in (Alastor)’s hair

From Husk, who had too many of those dang things and wants to get rid of them

His eyes are just cracking open to the pungent odor of antiseptics and the droning beeping from his heart monitor. Alastor realizes that he must have fallen asleep at some point (as it’s the only time in the night he allowed Husk to slip out of his grip) and he blinks when a new scent replaces the wave of chemicals. Floral, and sweet.

There’s his friend, still in the clothes Alastor had soiled with blood and tears the night prior, looking almost sheepish behind a bushel of yellow in decorated cellophane.

Alastor blinks and a wider grin cracks over his exhausted face as Husk tucks a daffodil into his cherry red hair. Yellow, yellow for joy and friendship—like Niffty’s old leash; symbolic, it feels as if it’s replacing the poisonous green that linked them for decades.

Daffodils…for forgiveness.

Alaator takes out the delicate blossom, long enough to twiddle it, and impishly brush the feline’s nose with it. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but red is more my color.”

He smiles…and he tucks the flower back into where it was. “…But I think I could get used to yellow.”

[freckled-moss]

Autumn Tea Chapter 7

Lockwood & Co.🌸Historical AU🌸Locklyle

1117 words

Chapter 6

Part 1

Gardening did wonders for drowning out a person’s thoughts, and for that Lucy was very grateful.

She couldn’t think of Mr. Lockwood at all while plowing soil for new flowers to be planted into. She couldn’t think of his hands gracefully taking a delicate necklace and brushing against her neck as he clipped it on. She especially couldn’t think of him whispering “There. Just perfect,” in such a soft voice as he stepped back.

What was she to do?

Continue gardening, was one, but by now she was more attacking the soil than plowing it so she hurriedly put down the hoe and fanned her rapidly heating face.

So much for not thinking.

Honestly, it’s not like it had happened yesterday. In fact, it had been a good two weeks since that night and she had been back at the estate for one of them.

The rest of the trip went by in a blur, and she could hardly keep up with whatever meetings Mr. Lockwood dragged her into. The only part she really still remembers is bringing him tea every morning.

She wears the necklace every day.

Even now, as she rummages through dirt, the necklace is round her neck. It must’ve been so expensive she can’t imagine leaving it in a dusty drawer every day.

This is hardly the activity it was made to be worn in, though, she thought to herself a bit ashamedly.

Finding that gardening was quite a bust for the day, she decided to wash up and get an early start on dinner. Holly will certainly be happy to have the extra help.

Part Two

Holly liked to think that she was not an oblivious person. In fact, she thought of herself as rather observant.

Perhaps that’s why both Lucy’s and Mr. Lockwood’s idiocy has driven her up a wall.

Something happened over the trip. She knew that. What she didn’t know is what. Neither of them would tell her.

She also knew that this is the most distracted she has ever seen Mr. Lockwood in all the years of knowing him, which is certainly saying something.

She was in the library going about her normal routine of organizing and dusting when she noticed Mr. Lockwood standing quite still on the balcony. She called up to him, but he didn’t reply, and when she followed his gaze she noticed him staring at the Shakespeare section.

Mr. Lockwood never showed any real interest in Shakespeare, so obviously his mind was elsewhere.

She called for him again, louder this time, and he startled.

“Oh! Hello, Holly.”

“Hello, Mr. Lockwood. May I ask what’s got your head in the clouds?”

“Head in the clouds? My head’s not in the clouds. I’m perfectly aware.”

“Oh? So, you were simply looking longingly at one of your least favorite authors.”

“No,” he smiled at her, and Holly knew she wasn’t going to get anything out of him.

“Absolutely ridiculous…” she muttered before heading to the door. The books had been dusted enough for today.

Part Three

“George!”

George couldn’t say it was quite unusual for Holly to shout his name from across the hallway, but usually it wasn’t stated with such urgency.

“Yes, Holly?” She had properly stomped her way over to him and huffed in anger before righting herself.

“Please tell me you have noticed Mr. Lockwood’s infuriating behavior recently.”

He looked at her over his glasses for a second, “If you mean he’s had his head in the clouds-“

“Yes I mean he’s had his head in the clouds!”

“-then yes. In fact, I even noticed Lucy staring at that ghastly portrait of him in the front hall.”

“Oh, I knew something happened between them!”

“You haven’t heard?”

“Heard what?”

“Lockwood’s told me he got Lucy a dress when they went down to Paris.”

“A dress?”

George smirked, “And a necklace. Diamond, if I remember correctly.”

“Oh, how could Lucy not have told me about that?” she muttered.

“If you asked me,” George continued (he always liked talking his mind, and this is perhaps the first time he’s had the upper hand on Holly, so he wouldn’t waste it) “Lockwood’s quite besotted with her.”

“As is Lucy with him.”

“Yes.”

They both stood considering the conclusion for a moment before Holly spoke again.

“So what are we to do?”

“We?” he briefly took off his glasses to wipe them on his coat, “Why would we do anything? I say we let the two idiots figure it out themselves.”

“You would say that,” Holly sighed and began walking away. Dinner needed making, “but I think they may need some help, and I’m not one to leave my friend helpless.”

She disappeared down the hall.

“Quite,” he muttered to himself.

Part Four

Anthony Lockwood found that focusing on dinner while Lucy Carlyle stood near him was actually quite impossible.

She was still wearing the necklace.

At this point, he doesn’t know if it’s because she simply loves it so much she can’t bring herself to take it off, or if it’s because she won’t know how to put it back on later.

He hopes it’s the former, but if it was the latter he doesn’t see any problem in putting her necklace on for her for the rest of the foreseeable future.

He decided to focus on the potatoes. He took a bite.

“What excellent boiled potatoes you’ve made, Holly. Many years since I’ve had such an exemplary vegetable.”

“Lucy actually made those, Mr. Lockwood.”

“Did she now?”

“Yes, and you had the same dish last week.”

“Did I? Certainly it wasn’t the same potatoes?”

“No.”

“There you go, then.”

He tried to go back to eating, but found that his mind couldn’t stop wandering to Lucy making the potatoes, or working in the garden, or lit by the moon in Paris.

The whole time wearing that silly, little necklace.

It is a shame that she didn’t wear it while at the banquet.

“I’ve got it!” he exclaimed, and his fork hit his plate as he stood.

“Got what?” said George. “Finally figured out how to expand our clientele?”

“No, of course not! Well, perhaps it might.”

“What is it, then?”

“We’ll have a ball!”

“A ball?” George seemed displeased.

“Yes! With proper dancing and everything. And you’ve got a dress just perfect for it, Luce!”

“Mr. Lockwood,” Anthony found that he was so excited even Holly’s serious tone couldn’t deflate his mood, “Lucy and I couldn’t dance, we’d have to serve the guests.”

“Nonsense! I’ll hire someone to cater for the night. I’ve plenty money from how understaffed we are.”

“Oh, how nice,” she said flatly.

“Yes! It’s decided then. This Friday, we dance!”

[schleckermaul]

🍭 𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙘 𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨! 🎀 (to braid/brush your muse’s hair) + 🌸 (to place a flower crown on your muse’s head, to braid lil flowers in his hair instead!) — by @archaictold

suffice to say, xerxes is absolutely ecstatic about the idea of a picnic once zhilan brings it up throughout their morning routine.

   not quite a breakfast picnic, with the two of them lounging around in bed for far longer than at least one of them intended, the sun is closer to its highest point than it would usually be for one's first meal of the day. this did nothing to lessen the clear excitement, fluttering in xerxes' chest, so different from the tingle of a cough or the grasp of a choke. there's no need for any particular cooking skills, at least not for the type of picnics he's familiar with.

   they'd had some leftover cake from the day before, sitting in the fridge, so there was no baking to be done. merely zhilan, standing in one corner of the kitchen, preparing small sandwiches. and xerxes in the other, brewing the best of teas for the best of occasions, something to wake the both of them up and accompany the scones that are perfect for the afternoon plan.

   he does a cartwheel on their way to one of the larger trees of the estate's gardens, and his own giggle resonates with zhilan's when he lands on his back, fall cushioned by the meadow beneath, as well as a few flowers here and there. there's the warmth of the sun on his face, and then the cool shadow of his heart looming over him, when the scholar studies him, making sure he hadn't gotten hurt.

   or perhaps, getting this particular idea at the sight of xerxes, head framed by flowers, a few squished here and there.

   ' you know, ' he mumbles around a piece of strawberry around half an hour later, ' lady sharon used to do this for me a lot. '

   his back is now leaning against zhilan's chest, who is in turn using the bark of the tree to rest against. deft fingers are weaving through the thin strands of xerxes' hair, messy as it is, both combing through it and braiding what he believes to be daisies and buttercups into it. zhilan's hands are very warm against his scalp.

   reminiscent of two things: the last time they had a similar picnic, under the eternal tree, when zhilan had noted his longer hair, agreed to cut it for him. and the other time ...

   " she did? " zhilan's voice is all gentle intrigue, though he's clearly more concentrated on the task at hand, no mistake lacing itself into the movement of his hands. " lady shelly's ... daughter? i saw her here, when we were in the mist ... i imagine she's grown. "

   xerxes chortles, wills himself to still when zhilan tickles the back of his neck with his index finger. ' i suppose. not as much as she'd like to, i think. don't tell her that, though. '

   zhilan weaves the stem of a buttercup into his hair, white against green. " how do you mean? "

   ' she has a contract, ' xerxes' voice grows a bit distant when he leans forward to stab a sandwich with his fork, which he nibbles at more delicately, taking his time. ' much like myself. she stopped aging at around ... thirteen years, though i've been serving her for quite a bit longer than that. '

   " you serve her? " zhilan's breath slides against the crook of his neck as he leans in to apparently take a peek at xerxes' expression. for what it's worth, it's relatively calm, still pleasantly relaxed with the familiar birdsong and sunshine, the same scent of roses he'd been missing so very badly. " i thought ... "

   ' i serve her under lady shelly's orders. ' a sentence that comes easily, practiced as it is, though it hasn't left his mouth for a while. with zhilan leaning forward, xerxes leans backwards, interrupting the braiding process but making up for it with a nuzzle to the cheek.

   ' if anything were to happen to her, milady would be quite upset. '

   he feels how zhilan's eyes crinkle around an earnest smile. xerxes pouts in response almost immediately. zhilan chuckles.

   " i see. that's very kind of you, xerxes. "

   ' oh, shush, you— finish your braiding, will you? '