#by Krysanthe

[at-the-sign-of-the-fox-n-phoenix]

Poetic Mischief in the Park with Tanja Wagner (International Featured Poet #1, from Germany), Thomas Herlofsen (International Featured Poet #2, from Norway), and Heather Gartman (Mountain Folk Featured Poet, from West Virginia, USA) all present by reading. All pieces performed with permission from their Poets, all rights retained by their Poets. Jhessail performs two of their new punk songs (WOO HOO!) and reads Wagner. Khrysanthe shares her latest fashion upcycled brilliance and reads Herlofsen. Colleen reads Herlofsen, Gartman, and her own work. Phoenix reads her own works.

Poetic Mischief in the Park events are sponsored by my Patrons over on Patreon. If you want to join in on or support the free exchange of artsiness and pleasant company, now's the time to join the patreon!

[chill-bunn-sage]

A sunny bunny during winter

I just miss her looking happy and at peace tbh

[novel-tea-cafe]

☕️📚Just a normal prep day before the doors open… ☕️📚

[dearastrologian]

I FORGOT TO POST THIS

a really rough portrayal of my sad boy surprising his Lady with a forehead kiss before a battle

how scandalous, Ser

bnnuy belongs to @chill-bunn-sage

[lizzybeth1986]

Rose Gold

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Hana Lee x Kiara Theron

Rating: PG

Word Count: 4, 304 words

Content Warning: Mention of Gun Violence, Character Injury.

Summary: Six months after King Liam and Queen Esther's wedding, Hana and Kiara take their next big step as a couple.

A/N: Set in the P&Tverse. Since P&T spans the timelines of Books 2 and 3 (the Engagement Tour and the Unity Tour + Liam & Esther's wedding), most of this fic takes place after the series is meant to end, and there are references to things that happen there that aren't canon.

The first half of the fic, however, takes place just before the group reunites with the MC and Drake at the safe house (TRR3, Ch 1).

I've borrowed a few elements from Hana's own engagement to the MC in the books: the rose gold ring, the coin throwing ritual at the foundation and the proposal at the lake.

Tagging @hanaleeappreciationweek for Day 5: Romance, @choicesficwriterscreations for FoTW and LGBTQ Archive, and @choicesmaychallenge24 for Hera: Marriage

October 14th, 2017. Half past Midnight.

Foolishness. Sheer foolishness.

The voice inwardly chiding her right now sounded suspiciously like her mother; for that reason alone she was desperate to ignore it.

But what else would one call an impulse to jump out of a car that could take her in complete secrecy to the city's best safe house, only to race to Argyros and Sons - Cordonia's premier jewellery store - for a gift she wasn't even sure would be accepted...a promise she wasn't even sure its intended recipient would want?

"Looking for something specific, Your Grace?"

Surprised, Hana looked up from the case displaying an assortment of glittering diamond rings. The eyes that met hers in a speculative survey were ocean-blue, marked by wizened crow's feet. It was at the tip of her tongue to correct him (Lady Hana, sir!) when she spotted the Twitter feed on the iPhone in his hand.

News sure does travel fast around the Capitol!

But no sooner had that thought left her head, than the riptide of memories began to flood her.

The Homecoming Ball. Hors d'oeuvres. Speeches. Fireworks. Announcements. Please welcome Esther DuPont, Duchess of Valtoria, and Hana Lee, Duchess of Krysanthe. Cheers. Expectant Gazes. And then...

Darkness. Gunshots. The acrid taste of fear.

Hana bit back a grimace. How long would memories of tonight haunt her? How long would it be before she heard people address her by her new title, without memories of the violence that followed?

She held her handbag with a sudden death-grip, forcing herself to breathe. To push forth happier, sweeter memories.

Unbidden, comes the one memory that had managed to keep her sane this night.

Her laughter.

Sharp. Raucous. Loud. Jarring against the tinkling sounds of cutlery and glassware, as far away as one could get from the soft, windchime quality of delicate laughter, that every female courtier was taught to emulate.

She thought she'd known love until that moment, fool that she was. Thought that no matter who she dated, no matter how distant she'd be from those memories of the social season - Esther would somehow remain her first and forever love.

Until she had taken that one fateful look at Kiara's wildly joyous face, heard her cackle - the kind one would never normally dare to do at court - and realized with piercing clarity that if she were to compare her feelings for these two women, they would be nowhere close.

Her love for Esther had all the subdued warmth of a crackling bonfire. But these newfound feelings for Kiara?? They made her feel like she was plunging herself headfirst into a raging volcano.

Something within Hana had trembled violently in that moment; some premonition that felt searing in its finality.

Kiara was the one. She was all Hana had ever wanted, without knowing it; all that Hana would ever want, from now till eternity. The one in whose arms she would want to stir awake, every day for the rest of her life.

Kiara Thorne, or no one. Kiara Thorne, or lifelong loneliness.

The phrase rang in her ears like a verdict: final, eternal, unchangeable.

When Hana opened her eyes, she found to her consternation that they were blurry from unshed tears. Quickly blinking them away, she noted dully how different the rings on the display now looked.

Certainly she must have moved to another part of the store without knowing. Where before she'd seen glittering, brilliant, ostentatious diamonds, set in white gold and platinum...now she saw stones nestled in the embrace of a warmer, almost blush-toned metal.

Rose gold.

The metal that was all the rage in her mother's birthplace Bethulia, for its delicate shimmer and soft pink hue. Mama had told her often enough in her childhood that their barony's love for it went far beyond just the colour...that her mother - Hana's Nanimaa - loved it for being such a perfect union of gold, silver and copper...

A whisper of a memory of Nanimaa, the one time she'd ever seen her. At a fountain, glowing from the glimmer of abandoned coins.

It took her less than a minute to find exactly what she didn't know she'd been looking for. Had you asked the jeweller about her, he would have told you that the newly appointed Duchess of Krysanthe had chosen her ring with the greatest confidence. The confidence of a woman who had probably wooed her beloved, confessed her love, basked in the joy of being loved back.

A confidence Hana didn't feel.

When she returned to the limo, she was greeted with the sight of a pensive Liam, rubbing the frown between his brows absently with his fingers. A telltale muscle jumped inside his jaw.

"Any news?" Hana whispered, almost dreading the answer.

"Yes," his voice was grainy from exhaustion and guilt. "Three people injured. Bastien, Esther's press secretary, and...."

"And?" Her voice had gone small and high, that a fearful child's.

"And Lady Kiara. She was..."

Hana blinked once, then blinked again. Liam's mouth was moving, yet no sound seemed to come out. All that she could hear was a low, keening noise, like a muffled siren...or like the moan of a woman in terrible pain.

Kiara. Kiara. Kiara.

--

May 12th, 2018. Afternoon.

"How far from the palace are you taking us?" Kiara asks, her voice alight with laughter.

"Not even outside its gates," Hana replies, grinning. Kiara looks down at their fingers laced together, palms almost touching.

They've been together for just six months, and still somehow, the lines on Hana's palm feel as familiar to her now as her own. Without even looking she can conjure up the memory of the heartline on Hana's left palm at a moment's notice - long and deep, starting from her index finger, suggesting she would be a wonderful lover with a very fruitful love experience - and her marriage line, stretching from one end of her palm all the way to her ring finger...suggesting friendly in-laws.

(The thought of luring Hana to marry her under the premise of palmistry is sounding more and more tempting by the minute)

Involuntarily - perhaps to stop herself from checking her trouser pockets once again for that tiny box she took from her vault today - Kiara's hand tightens around Hana's.

Can she dare to hope that fortunate beloved could be her?

She steals a glance in Hana's direction, noting with alarm that her fingers are trembling in Kiara's hand.

"We're here," she says, her voice suddenly small and quivering against the gurgle of water in the courtyard fountain. It's been a palace fixture for several decades now - ornate and imposing - a legacy from King Liam's formidable grandmother, the late Queen Mother Cassandra. According to Kiara's father, the woman had married into the family as a young princess from Monterisso, and for her foreignness alone was expected to be crushed by the strictures of the palace and the expectations of her people - yet in a decade's time she had somehow became the most imposing figure there! There was very little in the palace that didn't have her stamp of approval first.

As they come closer, Kiara sees the one thing Queen Mother Cassandra may not have predicted when this fountain was built - the glimmer of coins, all gleaming in the sunlight like they were minted just yesterday.

Her own smile begins to tremble on her lips, even as she notices Hana swallow a telltale nervous lump in her throat. For the first time since they have gotten here, Kiara notices that Hana's other hand is fisted around something. Something that could very likely be the same coins they just saw in the fountain.

She takes that hand gently in hers, knowing now how nervous Hana must feel; knowing that if they complete the ancient lover's ritual that she so hoped to do today, there will be no going back. She uncoils Hana's fisted hand, finger by quivering finger, watching her face as her breathing quickens. She smiles again - a smile more aimed at reassurance than amusement.

"Are we going to do what I think we're going to do today, ma moité?"

For several seconds, Hana doesn't respond. The three coins in her hand (Heavy. Ornate. Engraved with apples. Ancient) are proof enough. The answer, when it finally comes - almost like it is torn out of her throat for fear that Kiara's feelings may not match her own - is barely audible.

"Only if this is what you want too."

Gold. Silver. Copper. Tossed in one after the other in an ancient lover's ritual - one that Kiara knows only because she'd learned about it from her mother, who'd had friends in Bethulia where this ritual was most popular. Maman and Baba themselves had done it on a trip there when she was a teenager, still squirming over her parents' ability to still act like swoony romantics in their (and this would be said well out of their earshot) "fucking forties!".

Wiser now, Kiara feels the same anticipatory tingles that her parents must have felt back then.

This ritual wasn't for the faint of heart in ancient days. You did it only when you were certain. When you looked at your lover and knew that a life without them wasn't a life worth living.

Well, Kiara muses as she watches a hundred emotions flit in a second over Hana's face, I think I've known that long enough. I've known ever since I saw you fight your father in Shanghai, even when you knew it would cost you everything. Since that one moment, I've been yours.

Planting a tender kiss on the corner of Hana's mouth, she takes the coins. "Ready when you are," she whispers softly.

Hana swallows again, her eyes glistening and moist and relieved all at once. In a silk pouch that dangles from her wrist, she fishes for three coins identical to the ones on Kiara's palm. She breathes deep once, twice, three times.

Kiara links their free hands, grips them tight as they turn their backs to the fountain. Hana looks up, a question in her eyes.

"For friendship!" Kiara says, tossing the copper coin into the fountain. Faint memories of something that almost feels like another lifetime glimmer and fade in her memory. Applewood, sipping water, giggling over their favourite fruits and flowers. The Beaumont Bash. Watching from the sidelines as Hana did the verbel equivalent of ripping out Olivia Nevrakis' spine at the Coronation Ball.

Hana takes out the silver coin, and waits for Kiara to holds up hers'. "For love?"

Engagement tour. Fearing Hana would hate her in Fydelia, but never understanding why that should suddenly matter. Standing with her against a bridge in Paris, each mourning their lost loves.

Finally learning what love really was, when she opened her eyes and truly saw Hana for the very first time.

Kiara nods, touching her forehead to Hana's. "Par amour." Their coins splash in unison in the water.

Her girlfriend lets out a watery giggle as she takes out the final coin, glittering and golden on her palm. Her voice breaks a little as she tosses it behind her. "For...bel- belonging".

Kiara's own sigh releases in a shudder as she lets the final pledge sink in.

There were very few places in the world that truly felt like home to Hana. Not the place where she was born, not the barony that could have been her legacy. It took her months to even find comfort or security in her future in Cordonia - much less belonging.

Without a moment's thought, and without releasing the golden coin in her hand, she cups Hana's face and kisses her. Hana shudders and buries her hands in Kiara's hair, her lips trembling against the unspoken promises in her lover's.

"For belonging," Kiara says it like it is a vow. "And I don't care how long it takes - I give my word right now. I'll never let you feel like you have lost your home. Ever." Another kiss - this time on Hana's temple. "I hope you will always find one. In me."

Hana's smile is warm and dreamlike, her eyes closed as if to savour this moment, her fingers playing with Kiara's curls. She barely notices the sound of Kiara's gold coin landing in the fountain. "I love you, Kiki."

Kiara chuckles at her teasing use of the nickname, brushing Hana's nose with her own. "Together forever?"

Their hands, now free, close around each other. "Together forever."

It's quiet now, except for the sound of collard doves, the rustle of leaves and branches in a light breeze, and their breathing. The air smells of wildflowers, citrus and a subtle floral scent that Kiara knows to be the perfume Hana has been using for months. Orange Blossom. She grins as she remembers. It's a scent Hana has often loved to wear, just for her.

Hana's thumb feathers lightly over the ring finger on Kiara's left hand, almost as if to commit the bare space on it to her memory. Kiara doesn't miss that gaze - bright-eyed and soaked in longing - and how it mirrors a need she has felt ever since they landed at the Capitol last week.

Kiara swallows. She had wanted to take things slow, she really did. Woo her, bathe her in every luxury possible, make this trip even more unforgettable than Hana could ever imagine, and then spring this surprise on her - like a kirsch-soaked cherry topping on an already very tempting Black Forest Cake.

But...but that gaze of Hana's has always been Kiara's undoing.

Simply, she says, "come with me."

Puzzled, Hana looks up. "Where?"

"To Lake Sôse," Kiara whispers, wasting not one more moment and grabbing her hand. Hana lets out a nervous, slightly incredulous laugh as she allows herself to be pulled along.

Kiara isn't sure why she's suddenly rushing this. When she thinks of the elaborate plans she'd been constructing all week - chocolate-dipped strawberries and champagne at one of the Capital's premier restaurants, flowers everywhere, a proposal at the hedge maze with a picture together by the swing to commemorate the occasion - she wants to laugh. She isn't even sure why Lake Sôse was the first place she'd thought of just now.

She takes a deep breath, and grounds herself. Uncommonly impulsive though it may be, her decision has been made. There is even a part of her that seems to prefer it to happen this way!Kiara has never been one for last minute changes of plan...but ever since she fell in love with Hana, she's learned to expect - and enjoy - the unexpected.

It's only when she sees the shine in Hana's eyes that she realises why her mind took the turn it did.

Lake Sôse. The one place Hana Lee has always chosen for solace and comfort. The one place in the Capitol where she felt the most at home. It had been here, Hana told Kiara once, that King Liam had told her his plans to appoint her Duchess of Krysanthe. It was here, hours later, that she'd shared that momentous news with her best friend Esther; where Esther - herself aglow with love and a newfound purpose - hugged Hana and told her that the world would now be Hana's oyster.

She'd brought Kiara to this lake for the first time the day after King Liam and Queen Esther's wedding, following a night when the queen herself had been kidnapped, and Hana had joined the king's entourage to rescue her.

A night that Kiara - in constant fear of losing her forever - had recklessly kissed Hana. In public. In front of the entire court. Braving gazes of teasing approval from Kiara's parents, and near-murderous glares from Hana's. The night everyone outside of Hana's friend circle finally realized the two were a couple.

Kiara remembers the day after that like it was yesterday. Something must have changed fundamentally in Hana that night, because the fear seemed to have gone, and with it the compulsive need for hiding and subterfuge and constantly looking over her shoulder. It was as if Hana had faced what she'd thought was the worst thing that could happen to her, and realized she really was strong enough to face that fear.

You're my safe place among people, Hana told her that morning, her fingers lacing through Kiara's. The one I feel most at home with. I want to bring my safe space..to the place in Cordonia I've always felt safest in.

It is afternoon, and the yellow crocuses behind them exude a warm, buttery golden glow in the sunlight. Hana lets out a breathless, incredulous laugh. "You seem like a woman in a very huge rush today, Lady Thorne."

Kiara's own laughter in response is high-pitched and halting. She tries to hide the moistness of her palms as she makes a blind grab for the small velvet box in her purse. "Believe me, this wasn't the way I'd planned this to go at all."

Intrigued, Hana's eyes follow Kiara's hands, and her eyes widen as she recognises the familiar deep blue velvet, the embossed silver lettering on top. Argyros and Sons.

"Is that --"

"Yes," Kiara says, clearing her throat, "I'd been planning this. All week. It was going to be romantic, elaborate, I was going to sweep you off your feet. Just like I'd planned to ask you out seven months ago."

Hana lets out a watery giggle. We all know how that turned out, don't we, qīn'ài de? Kiara can almost hear her saying.

But the humour stops almost immediately when she looks at the box again, and suddenly Hana seems too still, too shocked...too far off from how Kiara hoped she would react.

Kiara lets out a deep breath, then lets the words gush out of her. She's too scared to stop, too terrified to think - the fear that she may be doing too much too soon is so overwhelming that she knows if she stops she won't be able to bring herself to do this for a long, long time to come. The humiliation would be too strong.

"I'm not one for impulse. I never have been. I've never felt comfortable with anything if I didn't have a plan for it first."

Kiara gives herself a moment to half-smile at the irony of it all. Approaching Hana Lee with a smile and a bottle of water, after that first eventful bite of a Cordonian Ruby was definitely an impulse. So were half the things she had done with Hana since. So will many, many, many of the things they may wind up doing together, if (if!) this leap of faith works in her favour.

She looks up at Hana to see if she's laughing at the memory too. She isn't. In fact, Kiara isn't even sure Hana's reacting yet to what she's saying. Perfectly still, her eyes never moving from the box, so wide that they would go bloodshot if they were widened any further. Kiara swallows, and finds that her throat feels suddenly, inexplicably sore.

"I could never tell what it was about you that changed all that. I still don't. All I know is that...around you, Hana, I feel so much more brave. To let go of the need to plan and organize. To not be too afraid of what will follow - whether it goes in my favour or not. I find myself not just willing, but eager, to trust my gut."

Kiara's eyes search every inch of Hana's face as she opens the box, revealing the ring inside. It's a gorgeous piece, all platinum and sparkling diamonds. The smaller stones form a cluster around a massive one, leading the viewer to believe they are seeing a glittering snowflake, fallen fresh from the heavens.

Kiara had known the minute she saw the ring that it was the one. That it would remind them of the first time they confessed their love. Of their very first date, of the first time they shared Hana's cup of homemade hot chocolate. Of why the two of them will always love winters.

Hana's fingers move, trembling, towards her mouth, her face suddenly flushed. She remembers it too.

"Hana Lee," A frisson of fear slithers down Kiara's spine. "Will you marry me?"

When Hana finally opens her mouth, several seconds later, Kiara has to strain to hear her voice.

"I - I -" her eyes dart away from Kiara as if she's just remembered something important - her beautiful bronzed skin suddenly a little drained of colour. The next few words, she says in a "I.... I'll be back. Give me five minutes? I...just remembered something."

She leaves without waiting for an answer.

Kiara sinks into the grass, covering her face in her hands.

What have I just done?

--

All the way back from her room in the palace to the lake, the pouch hanging from her wrist feeling only a slight bit heavier, Hana cannot stop mentally kicking herself.

"You fool! You imbecile! Bèn dàn!!" Hana curses herself as she speeds up her sprint into a run, "What happened to your tongue? What kind of reaction was that?? What will Kiara think?"

Her mind now sprints miles ahead of her feet, racing in panicked ferocity over the possibilities.

With any luck, Kiara could still be waiting - puzzled and perhaps a little worried. Or she could be actively panicking, the way she does (on very rare occasions) when a plan goes terribly wrong.

Or...or...

Hana holds the silk pouch from her wrist in a deathlike grip as she speeds up towards Lake Sôse. Or.

The thought of that lovely, open space completely devoid of Kiara, of that beguiling combination of rose and jasmine emanating from her favourite Dior J'adore perfume, makes Hana's stomach drop to her feet.

It isn't until she sees that that heartbreakingly familiar figure of Kiara's, hunched over the grass, that Hana allows herself to breathe.

Kiara is there. Shoulders bent, head buried in her hands, almost stumbling as she tries to get up when she sees Hana.

Morose. Defeated. But still there.

Without another thought, Hana rushes into Kiara's arms, almost knocking her off her feet.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Hana whispers against her hair. "I wasn't trying to run away. I really had to get something. For you."

Kiara pulls back to look into her eyes, and when she does Hana's heart twists at the sight of unshed tears. "I thought I'd scared you off."

Hana's own laughter quavers, pitched high in disbelief. "I've just pledged myself to you this afternoon, body and soul, at the palace fountain. This -" she lifts Kiara's left hand to her chest, her thumb caressing the empty space on her beloved's ring finger " - just makes it so much more real."

Kiara's arms wrap around her, pulling Hana flush to her. Hana can feel Kiara shake as she giggles in response. "...you mean to say that I'd have saved myself so much stress if I'd just remembered those coins."

"Yes, qīn'ài de, a thousand times yes." She cups Kiara's face, pressing their foreheads together. "Place that ring where it belongs, Kiki. I can't wait to see it on my finger."

Hana holds her tight until Kiara's breathing becomes slower, calmer. She raises her newly-adorned hand for Kiara to see - marvelling at how the ring really mimics the glow of a snow crystal in the winter sun.

When they part, shyly, reluctantly, Hana begins to fiddle with the silk pouch.

"Here's what I'd gone to bring."

Kiara's eyes brighten at the sight of the box in her hand; a wave of warmth floods through Hana in anticipation of her response. Kiara gasps the minute she opens the box, revealing a delicate, intricately carved rose gold ring, flanked by small diamonds on all four corners, cradling a bigger one at the center.

"Rose gold," Kiara murmurs in wonder.

"Yes," Hana brushes her fingers over Kiara's knuckles. She'd told her once, long ago, how revered that metal was in her home province Bethulia. How Bethulian jewellers and goldsmiths and young women swore by the rosy hue it exuded. How it was a perfect amalgamation of three precious metals - all highly valued in the province. How tied it was to their folktales and bridal rituals.

"Copper..silver...gold." Kiara's tears glitter like diamonds before she lets them fall. "For friendship. For love. For belonging."

Hana smiles, her hand still stroking Kiara's cheek. "You remembered."

Kiara rolls her still-moist eyes, trying hard not to sniff - it would take out all the humour in this situation. "It's hard to forget a ritual we'd performed just ten minutes ago, ma moité."

"I'd planned to give you this ring a week from now," Hana says, shaking her head at her own impulsiveness as the ring she'd chosen on a fanciful whim so long ago, now finds its home. "I've been holding onto it for far too long."

Kiara caresses the stone on her own finger lovingly, admiring the way the rose gold glows on her skin. When she speaks, her voice is breathless in anticipation. "How long?"

For several minutes, Hana's only response is to pull Kiara back in her arms again. Her hand slides slowly, almost with a tinge of regret, down the dip of Kiara's waist on her left side. The wound that had once served as a constant, searing reminder of so much (of her vulnerability, of her inability to run from pain, of what she'd once considered her failures), has healed in more ways than one - only a faded scar that Hana never fails to kiss, now remains.

"For seven months," Hana's voice shakes at the memory, "Since the night after Homecoming Ball."

With a choked sob, Kiara enfolds Hana into her arms, almost as if she'd want to absorb her into every cell of her body. Fervently, reverently, she presses her lips all over Hana's face - her eyelids, her cheeks, the bridge of her nose, all the little-known, barely-noticed parts of her. It takes her a while - perhaps too long, in Hana's opinion - for Kiara's lips to meet hers, but she welcomes the sweet torture of waiting.

"Mon cœur," Kiara says between kisses, "ma raison de vivre."

When they part, the two women keep each other's hands interlinked, one left hand over the other. Neither of them will remember how long they stay at the lake; only that they never want this joy, this warm afterglow of seeing their dreams come true...to end.

The empty spaces on their ring fingers, over which they'd each stolen such secret, hungry glances today, now bear the mark of their lovers. Now bear the most tangible signs of their love, their memories, their promises, their commitment.

Together forever.

--

Translation:

Ma moité - a romantic endearment in French, meaning "my other half"

Qīn'ài de - Mandarin Chinese for "my dear"/"darling"

Bèn dàn - Mandarin Chinese cuss word that means "stupid egg!"

Mon cœur - French endearment, meaning "my heart"

Ma raison de vivre - French for "my reason to live"

--

References for Hana and Kiara's engagement rings:

Kiara:

(Source: Maxine Jewellery)

Hana:

(Source: This article on engagement rings, but the actual pic itself came from Blue Rose Photography)

[mimble-sparklepudding]

9. The Idol.

The Idol steps out upon the stage,

With her diffident heart aflutter,

Which the ardent crowd will soon assuage,

Until she quite forgets her stutter.

The ninth character in my silly poem series is Krysanthe of @chill-bunn-sage, who is embarking upon an Idol story arc this year, which I'm rather excited to see develop.

Krysanthe is definitely one of more relatable and downright likeable OCs in the FFXIV community. There are also some amazing gposes, stunning glamours and marvellous hairdos.

Krysanthe deserves a even larger audience, so if you're not following her yet, you should definitely check out @chill-bunn-sage

[howlingmoonrise]

i wrote myself into a barbie fic corner rip

in conclusion: why do i do this to myself. why are barbie movie character names always so modern-sounding. who decided to give barbie a baby sister in an early 2000s game that stuck with me and name her krissy. why with the k. why did i choose to use her as a sister instead of like the thousand other barbie sisters in the doll lines who got yeeted away with time (the answer is nostalgia).

also, should i just ignore the k in the long form of the names because most of these look painfully modern.

help.

[nightraid-hq]

NIGHTRAID KAIHO ISSUE #1 | A CLASH OF SPELLCASTERS!

The greatly anticipated magicks tournament unfolded in front of NightRaid HQ, captivating audiences and igniting the spirits of aspiring mages and sorcerers. This grand event brought together some formidable magic users, showcasing their talents and unleashing spells of breathtaking magnitude. As the night sky shimmered with the promise of arcane prowess, the competition witnessed some exhilarating battles.

The tournament commenced with a spellbinding duel between Joshua and Krysanthe, mentor and student. Both combatants wove intricate patterns in the air, summoning the power of the stars through their astromancy arts. Explosions of cosmic energy filled the arena as the two masters clashed, creating a spectacle that left the audience in awe. Ultimately, Krysanthe's celestial mastery prevailed, defeating her mentor in a hard-fought victory and setting the stage for an enthralling tournament ahead.

In the next encounter, Kallias and Penelo took center stage, each showcasing their unique magical styles. Kallias employed the mesmerizing art of paper puppet magics, his dragon familiar throwing fiery displays that dazzled the crowd. Penelo, on the other hand, harnessed the raw power of conjury, commanding the elements with grace and precision without a staff to speak of, impressing onlookers. The clash of these two formidable magicians was an intense battle that kept the spectators on the edge of their seats. In the end, Kallias emerged victorious, his blazing pyrotechnics overwhelming Penelo's conjured forces by the narrowest of margins.

Up next against Krysanthe was Ryuu. Well known for her explosive blue magicks, she quickly started the match with a torrent of aether. Spells inspired by wildlife and the elemental forces of her hunts erupted from her fingertips, testing Krysanthe's mettle. Despite that, Krysanthe's unwavering resolve proved insurmountable, and she emerged triumphant, reaffirming her place as a force to be reckoned with.

The stage was set for an epic clash of champions as Kallias faced off against the indomitable Krysanthe in the tournament's final showdown. Kallias employed a combination of his signature paper puppet magics and newfound confidence. Krysanthe, undeterred by the formidable opponent before her, summoned her stellar astromancy powers once more. The impressive dragon familiar mastery against the stellar counterattacks, pushing each combatant to the limits of their magical strength. Ink spilled from the belly of the paper familiar on more than one occasion as Kallias fought back with all of him. In the end, Krysanthe's unwavering determination and mastery of the celestial arts proved too formidable for Kallias to overcome. With a resounding display of astromantic power, Krysanthe emerged victorious as the champion of Nightraid's Magical Tournament.

[tetsuro-wulf]

The Wulf's Eye: RP Journal #127 | Searching & Finding

I've lacked journal entries this moon, truthfully a lot has kept my occupied in terms of writing. Particularly, the book! Writing it, I realize it comes with a lot of.. reflection. Looking back on how far we've gotten. The irony of my meeting with Roku, as well as the tattoos he's left me with.

Ah right.. tattoos. To me, it's strange to call them tats. Markings, tattoos.. same thing if it's on the skin, right? Their tribal symbolism only offers a glimpse into the ancestry I know little of. Yet after a good heart to heart with Scilla, the fun stems from finding, rather than waiting for the answers to come to me. That said, it starts with tracing roots. Back to the library I used to eagerly skip to on the outskirts of my village.. it'll be nice for the two of us to visit again anyways. Plus, Scilla gets to see where my passion for the sword started. I do pray that nothing drastic has happened to it.. I mean, it has been about 800 turns now?

That aside, lately I've been prepping for Obon Odori. This is the first year where the meaning of my ancestory uh.. actually matters. Even if I don't know them, well, who tends to know their ancestors anyways? But.. I want to know ABOUT them. Such festivities offers a chance, perhaps. I've been asked to run the Segaki ritual this time around. Relearning the sutra has been something nostalgic, I'll say. It wasn't too difficult, at some point Haruko walked in on me chanting. That's right! Krysanthe shall be assisting me with the ceremony, hopefully she'll have a fine first experience at such! I'll have to write her a letter.

Last evening at the Ochaya, a pleasant surprise guest decided to steal me for the eve; Tomoe. With her, I didn't feel the need to be as formal as I usually am with clients. Not such a bad thing, since she seemed practice at filling my tea cup. She revealed that Ichiji proposed to her in a battlefield.. now I'm surprised the idea hadn't come to me, but the thought of flowers was far too strong. Not those petals soaked in blood. Though, it was nice to speak one on one. Reserved type, I'd say. Perhaps next time we can steal Ichiji at the ochaya.

08.16.2023

[chill-bunn-sage]

Me, looking at Pictomancer: Finally, a reason for Krysanthe to take up painting 🎨🖌️

Nah but Pictomancer might be my new main Ranged Magical DPS if it’s as fun as I hope it’ll be XD

As for Hrothgals… if I had the patience and spoons, I’d make an alt for for sure

FFXIV Daily Question n°128 : With Dawntrail new classes and the hrotgirls being a reality, do you intend to swap classes and races for your character(s) canon ?

[chill-bunn-sage]

Hey guys…

Didja miss her?

She’s back, a little bit at least

[dearastrologian]

@chill-bunn-sage

Knights hold umbrellas for their Ladies, do they not?

[lizzybeth1986]

The Moodboard that Hopes to Give Hana Her Flowers.

Tagging @hanaleeappreciationweek and @sazanes for HLAW Day 2: Flowers!

(FC for Hana - Kaitlin Marianelli)

I often think of Hana in terms of homes. She is the only court lady besides the MC who is away from home, and in TRR2 she tells us how - on her return to Shanghai - her parents' home hardly felt like home to her anymore. Once she is disowned and kept away from her family, Hana stays in Cordonia and starts to consider that her home instead.

There is also her mother's home province which canon doesn't tell us much about (besides flowers being part of their sigil). I have headcanoned that it is named Bethulia and is the home of a thriving Indian Parsi community.

In the Hana x Kiara series I've begun to write, Liam eventually confers the title of Duchess of Krysanthe on her, and in a lot of ways this place becomes a new home for her. So essentially in my P&T-verse, Hana has three homes (besides Castelserraillan - her wife Kiara's duchy).

I have associated each home with three flowers -

Shanghai with Plum Blossoms. In China, the plum blossom is a symbol for resilience and perseverance in the face of adversity, because plum blossoms often bloom most vibrantly even amidst the harsh winter snow. Hana's name, among her father's side of the family, is Lǐ Méi Huā, which is the Mandarin name for the flower as well.

Bethulia with Water Lily. Typically symbolising enlightenment and purity (as it blooms in muddy wet areas), Bethulians associate the flower that graces their coat-of-arms with the Zoroastrian yazata/angel Aban Yazad (angel of water). The water lily is said to be her representative flower. To Hana, the water lily too seems to be a very resilient flower, surviving in water and mud and staying beautiful and fragrant.

Krysanthe with Yellow Crocus. Crocuses come in a range of colours, and the yellow one often symbolises joy and cheerfulness, as well as a return to spring after a harsh winter. The crocus in general seems to symbolise new beginnings through its association with spring, and in many ways Hana's rise to power in Krysanthe was indicative of a new beginning for her.

[chill-bunn-sage]

Krysanthe’s been smelling like the outdoors a lot: sweat from the hiking, earthy from the dirt she kicks up on the road, lingering smoke from campfires, constant scent of an apple just eaten on her breath. There’s always a faint sent of a sweet oil in her hair to keep her scalp from drying out.

WoL/FFXIV OC question!

What does your WoL/OC smell like, and why? Do they smell like roses and morning dew, or is their scent more earthy and grounded? Or perhaps they smell like salt and sea from years of fishing and sailing?

[disciple-of-frost]

Okay. I don't normally do art out of the blue like this, but I have been in a funk for a long time and I feel like just finding other people's Warriors of Light to draw might help me get motivated again. So, uh, here you go @chill-bunn-sage. I'm gonna go hide now. 😖

[kryssiesbookofselfinserts]

Look, I haven't posted or written fanfic in over a decade. It's been awhile but writing this made me incredibly happy. Hope y'all like it too

Long Overdue

Series: Final Fantasy XIV

Ship: Our Grand Adventure (Krysanthe/G'raha)

Word Count: 3,179

Spoilers and Warnings: Endwalker, Shadowbringers, Crystal Tower Raids, lvl 50 Dark Knight Quest

It's just a nice day together after months of isolation after stopping The Final Days. What could possibly go wrong??

Be it by luck, chance, or Hydaelyn’s good graces, The Last Stand was practically empty and Krysanthe was more than grateful—for this was the most nervous she’s ever felt. Of all the trials she’s faced and triumphed, it was sitting here at the only cafe in Sharlayan, that has her worrying the sleeve of a pink, lace trimmed sweater dress. The only jewelry worn were small gold rose shaped earrings and matching rings, and two delicate gold necklace chains with simple gold ovals functioning as pendants—the whole outfit which was lovingly put together by Tataru as an attempt to get the Viera into some casual wear; the white fringed shawl was draped over the back of her chair. She looked down at the cup of black tea she bought as she waited, seeing a few of her earthen dark coils fall over her dark brown eyes in her limited reflection. Her tense expression mirrored back at her before she sighed and took another sip to calm her nerves.

She thought she’d find her stride in peacetime—picking up other hobbies, adventuring for the sake of it—but all she had show for was months of isolation after the dust finally settled; that and her hair returning to it’s natural curly-coiled state. A talk with her older sister helped snap her out of it, which led her to this impromptu trip to Sharlayan for a change of scenery. Included in this trip was to spend some time with G’raha, an offer which the red-headed Scion sounded eager to accept over linkpearl. That conversation was only a few days ago, but in her current state of anxiousness, she was nursing her tea and glancing at the path a half-hour before their meeting time.

“Just calm down, Krysanthe… it’s not like this is a date,” she murmured into her tea, the steam fogging her glasses as a soft blush colored her face at the thought.

Yes, if it was an actual date, you’d have collapsed in a heap by now. A familiar voice in the back of her head piped up, the voice of the inner darkness that sprung forth since she took the mantle of the dark knight. Krysanthe felt that voice laugh with a hint of a smile as it continued.

Then again, Raha does look at us with nothing but adoration. You’d think he’s worship us if he’d have the choice. Hahaha! Maybe even kiss our feet if we said so!

Though she soon shook the thought out of her head, and the blush from her cheeks. She knew G’raha valued her as a dear friend—and she’s harbored some affection towards him since she saw him step into the Crystal Tower, but date? Date her? Being intimate with her?She forced herself to stop dwelling on that thought as her eyes caught a familiar streak of red coming down the path. Not since she saw her sister, has Krysanthe felt a whole smile grace her lips as she saw G’raha, his breathing heavy through a chuckle as he sat down at her table.

“Pray, forgive me Krysanthe, I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”

~*~

G’raha looked himself over in his mirror, letting out a breath as he undid his braid for the third time. When Krysanthe said she wanted to spend some time with him, he did accept the offer with eagerness and excitement. But now, here he was, spending time in his room in the Baldesion Annex, fretting over his appearance like he has a childhood crush—the gentle teasing from Krile certainly didn’t help. Letting his shoulders relax, he looked over his reflection, deciding to leave his hair our of his braid after a moment more of fretting. The attire, picked with some assistance from Krile, was simple, but suited him well: a crisp red button-up with a dark grey waistcoat with similar gold designs near the hem that brought back memories of his Exarch robes. Brushing off his black pants, he made a move to wrap his scarf around his neck—half from habit, half from that there’s still a chill in the air outside. Tugging on his boots before leaving the Annex, G’raha took a breath and decided to take a slight detour to the marketplace, buying a small bouquet of purple roses before making a beeline to The Last Stand.

The Mi’qote could feel his heart beating quicker and louder as he got closer to his final destination, his palms sweaty despite the cool island air. He stopped in the aetheryte plaza for a moment to calm himself, though he could see the caféfrom this vantage point. Breathing in the crisp hair helped steady his heartbeat, but the nerves were still there.

“There’s nothing to be nervous, about,” he grumbled to himself as he glanced at the flowers he held, “It’s just a day with Krysanthe.”

By the Twelve, even saying her name make his heart skip a beat; a blind man could see how he felt about her. How he held the Viera as his friend, his inspiration. Stories of her deeds and kindness kept him on course as the Crystal Exarch during his time leading the Crystarium. And how that he was here—fully a flesh and blood man and not half-crystalline and bound to the Tower, both of his souls merged and in sync—he wanted to see what was possible with her. All he wanted to do was to see her know her happiness. Hopefully, this day would be the start of some happiness, even over the linkpearl, he could hear the sadness she tried to hide.

“Alright, enough dallying,” G’raha smiled at the bouquet and felt the smile spread to his heart before he started his run to The Last Stand.

~*~

Ruby red met deep sable eyes as they locked eyes at the table. Krysanthe felt her voice catch as she was about to speak, since she was stunned by how beautiful he looked. His hair draping just past his shoulders, but still had that bit that’s always pinned back. This clothes were tailored to him perfectly, formed to his frame and the sight of his scarf draped around him made her smile.

“I… I-I haven’t waited long, don’t worry G’raha,” she looked at him sweetly as she caught sight of the flowers. “Are… a-are those for me?”

Wicked white, she’s beautiful…Was all G’raha could think as she saw her. There she was, his inspiration. He realized this might be the first time he’s seen her not in armor or healing raiment. Her hair, her dress, even her aura felt as soft as she looked. However, her smile made his heart melt. He could get lost in her eyes, dark and warm as they were, though he still felt that spark of sadness in them. He wanted to heal that for her, be there for her. Though when he heard her voice asking about the flowers, he snapped out of it.

“Ah, right!” His ears flicked upward with a wide smile as he held out the purple roses, “I hope I’m not being untoward, I remembered you said these were your favorites. I hope this is still true?”

Looking at the flowers properly, the tips of the petals a darker purple that ombréinto a lighter lavender towards the base, Krysanthe felt her cheeks warm as she gently took the bouquet from G’raha. Their fingertips brushed against each other as the transfer was made, and he curled his fingers back into a relaxed fist on the table as he watched her breathe in the rose’s scent. Giving him a look of thanks, set them beside her teacup with a small laugh.

“Thank you for the gift, G’raha. It was very sweet of you,” she said as she folded her fingers around her cup, “Though now I feel bad about coming empty handed.” “Oh, no no,” he shook his head and smiled, “Spending this day with you is the true gift.”

Feeling the warmth in her cheeks flare, Krysanthe opened her mouth to speak, but only a squeak came out as she couldn’t form the words. How could he say these things so effortlessly? The best—worst?—part is, is that she knows he’d genuine in all that he says. As she was busy ruminating and mentally floundering at his sincerity, G’raha’s lips curled into a catlike smile, more than a little pleased with himself that he stunned the Viera in adorable silence if his swishing tail was anymore of a visual indication. Taking this moment to flag down a server for a mug of coffee and a small pot of the black tea Krysanthe for herself. Once a coffee set and tea set was obtained, G’raha stirred some cream into his mug as she opened her mouth to speak again.

“Pleasantries a...a...a-and stunningly kind words aside, how have you been G’raha?”

Thus the conversation shifted into a more pleasant tone, with G’raha explaining some of the progress of rebuilding the Students with Krile, the commissions given and completed, and the near endless comings and goings from the Noumenon for various tomes and research notes. Krysanthe smiled and listened intently, her leporidaen ears perking up at his research.

“If you and Krile e-e...ever need h...h-help, you know you can call me right?”

“No, we wouldn’t want to take up your time with mountains of research notes,” G’raha hummed as he took a sip from his mug, “I said we’d let you know if any interesting commissions would come up and I meant it.”

“Trust me, spending an entire day in the Noumenon stacks would be leagues more entertaining than what I’m doing now.”

“Surely the leisurely days of the savior of the star aren’t that dull?”

The two smiled at each other, but Krysanthe’s didn’t reach her eyes. G’raha’s smile faded to a worried frown, tentatively reaching his hand over to hers. When she didn’t flinch away, he placed his hand over hers.

“Dull is… one word for it.”

“Krysanthe, you can tell me if something is ailing you,” his ruby eyes pleaded as his fingers laced with hers as she started to pull away, “I once said that you needn’t carry your burdens alone. I meant it then, and I mean it now. Let me share your burdens, tell me what’s causing the pain behind your eyes.”

If this doesn’t convince you that he’d love you, nothing will.There was no snark, no teasing; a matter of fact statement from that spark of darkness as Krysanthe lowered her gaze to her cup.

Her breath was shaky as she felt the weight of his words. There was no doubt that G’raha meant the words he spoke, there was no doubt that he would do everything in his power to help her. She bit her lip to help keep herself together, but the familiar sting of tears in her eyes was breaking her shield.

“This wasn’t how today was s...su-supposed to go,” Krysanthe’s voice cracked as her hand pulled away from G’raha’s dabbing away her tears before gulping down her tea to help steady her nerves bur her wavering tone and stuttering gave her away, “Th… Th-This was supposed to be f-f...f-fun. A day where we w...w… were supposed to rest, and relax. For us to just be people. And I ruined it, I’m ruining it by being a-a broken f-f...fucking mess. I’m sorry… G-G’raha I’m so s-so...sorry.”

Standing up suddenly, Krysanthe moved to leave her table and her friend. Hiding her now-tear stained eyes behind her curls, she grabbed her shawl, the roses, and moved past G’raha. What she didn’t expect was his hand grasping hers, gentle but firm. She couldn’t read his expression, but the grasp stayed as he to stood and led them away from the cafe at a hurried pace. Past the aetheryte plaza, past the annex he lead, until there was a small clearing by a cliff-side. She’s been here before, usually sitting here when she just needed some time alone when the Scions first came to Sharlayan. The silence made seconds feel like eternities as fear slowly sank into her chest. G’raha hadn’t turned to face her yet, but she braced herself when she heard him exhale and speak.

“Forgive me for this sudden change of scenery,” he spoke, “But I would rather you hear these words away from wayward listening ears.”

His voice was low, but certain and clear in cadence, reminiscent of when he had to dredge up the mannerisms remnant of when he was the Exarch, shouldering the hopes of Norvrandt all those centuries ago. Turning towards her, his expression was soft and earnest, but there was a glint of something that she couldn’t perceive. She opened her mouth to protest but a look from him kept her words back.

“Please, let me say my piece,” he stated before starting, “You have bared the burdens of this star and countless others, you have carried all of your hopes to the edge of creation and it was those hopes that brought you back to us. I’ve known no truer friend, nor inspiration, than you. ‘A broken fucking mess’ is the last phrase one would ever use to describe you, and I suggest you never call yourself that in my presence again.”

“B...b-but…”

“No, I shall not hear those self-degrading words from the one I love dearly!”

Like a broken dam, Krysanthe’s eyes widened as tears started flowing down her cheeks, letting G’raha’s words sink in. “How… h-how long have y-y… y-you…?”

“Since the Crystal Tower,” G’raha spoke earnestly as he stepped closer and clasped her hands in his, “Since I thought I would never see you again once the doors of the tower were sealed behind me. Your actions and deeds were my inspiration, but youkept me afloat. The moment Lyna brought you to the Occular, I wanted to tell you everything. My plans, my feelings, I wanted to tell you it all. But I had to keep to my role, at least until everything was saved, and we won. I’ve wanted to tell you what lies in my heart for so long, but I’ve never felt worthy. I would have been happy being at your side, your steadfast friend as we explored what the world we’ve saved; one grand adventure after another. However, I’m not wont to live with regrets. So this I will say to you, and will repeat however many times until its truth is engraved in your heart.”

Krysanthe felt her knees buckle from the weight of his words, and if G’raha wasn’t holding her steady, she would’ve collapsed onto the grass. A small but saddened smile graced his features as his hand moved to her cheeks, gently wiping away the tear-stained trails.

“Krysanthe, I love you. I love all of you; tears, scars, pain and all. I shall not flinch from your dark days, nor am I only here to bask in your light. To be by your side, to be your cherished partner would be one of many of mine dreams come true. How long I’ve waited to tell you of these feelings mine, the yearnings and wishes of an old soul in this young body. You need not answer me now, nor even in the coming days, just know that shall be at your side for the rest of my days, if you decide to accept the rambling confession of a lovesick scholar.”

The tears fell freely from Krysanthe’s eyes, the bouquet fallen along with she to her knees. The Viera hugged herself as she sobbed, not even pulling away as G’raha pulled her into his arms, letting her cry for as long as she needed. Through her tears and hiccups, she explained her sorrows since the Endsinger was silenced, her wallowing self-worth leading her to not leave her home until recently. Quietly he listened, stroking her curls and wiping her cheeks until the last tears fall.

“My brave, beloved Warrior… how heavy your burden has been…” he sighed into her hair as he gazed down at her. Her crying eventually gave ways to heaves and sniffles. He held her in a gentle hug, stroking her hair until she stood up and wiped her eyes once more.

“Oh no, I got y-y...y...your vest all covered in snot…”

“It’s ok, it’s nothing that can’t be cleaned,” G’raha shook his head as his ears perked slightly, looking up at her. “Would I be remiss in asking if you feel slightly better?”

“No… no, in fact, I do feel better,” she responded with a small smile that reached her post-crying eyes and a clear voice, “Feel a little lighter, like some of the weight is knocked off.”

“Full glad I am to hear that, my love,” G’raha beamed at her before being aware of his words, wringing his hands lightly, “Ah, I mean—if you…”

He took a breath to compose himself. “You do not have to answer my confession. You are under no pressure to respond, it’s enough that you know how I feel.”

Krysanthe was quiet for a moment, taking in his confession, the way she broke and he managed to help hold her together, and even her own feelings that she’d held on to for so long. After letting out a breath, she smiled and worried the edges of her sleeves before she spoke.

By the Fury just kiss him already! Do it! Just do it!! She could practically hear the screaming in the back of her consciousness.

“I… y-you know I’m not the best with words, but I hope this is enough of an answer.”

Holding G’raha’s hands in her faint trembling ones, Krysanthe leaned down and placed a soft kiss on his lips. She pulled away to see a stunned look, his eyes dilated in shock and joy as he returned with his own kiss, that Krysanthe reciprocated. It was gentle, tentative, like both weren’t sure how far to go yet. But once they parted, they found themselves laughing. Genuine joy rippled between them more as G’raha’s tail wrapped around her waist and their foreheads touched.

“Some date this was,” Krysanthe shook her head as G’raha’s thumbed rubbed against the top of her hands.

“I dunno, I thought it went rather well,” he beamed with a cheeky grin, the tip of his tail swishing happily.

“Are we assuming there will be a second one?,” Krysanthe murmured sweetly before her eyes widened in sudden realization, “Ah! I forgot to pay for our drinks!”

~*~

A hand-holding walk, awkward apologies to Dickon, and one paid cafe tab later, the pair was sitting on a bench in Scholar’s Harbor. Hands laced together and G’raha’s head resting on Krysanthe’s shoulder the two felt at peace, the skies clear and the seas lapping against Sharlayan’s coasts. The two looked and felt at peace, basking in the sea breeze and the gentleness of the day. Glancing at her with a lazy smile, G’raha asked a single question.

“So, a second date, then?”