#mery's treasure

[elliottswaterlilies]

erm... what the sigma?!?!

[hand-picked-star]

The 13th Anniversary Arshi Fiesta

Moodboard : Historical AU

Whispers of the Heart | Chapter 25 ( final)

DISCLAIMER: The story is set in the early 20th century. While I have made efforts to capture the essence of the era, there may be inaccuracies as this is a work of fantasy. I do not own the characters Arnav and Khushi, and this story is purely fictional with no relation to any real individuals, living or dead. Any resemblance to actual persons or events is purely coincidental.

WARNING: 18+, MATURE CONTENT.

Final Chapter

Three years later.

It was the eve of Diwali, the festival of lights. The Rajput haveli was a vision of grandeur and festivity this evening. The entire estate was adorned with intricate decorations. Strings of twinkling fairy lights draped over every window and doorway and vibrant rangoli patterns were meticulously crafted at the entrance. Rows of gleaming diyas, their soft flickering flames casting a warm, golden glow, lined the pathways and courtyards, creating a serene and enchanting ambience. The air was filled with the scent of freshly made sweets and the sounds of laughter and celebration, as the household came alive with the spirit of joy and togetherness.

Arnav and Khushi had been celebrating their Dewalis with the Rajput family instead of their own Haveli, which they had finally managed to build according to their own taste. It was especially Khushi's touch that could be seen in every corner of the new Raizada state. Though they had a beautiful house of their own, they very much enjoyed spending their Dewalis with the Rajputs. Because, all of their near and dear ones were here and with Mahindar and Manorama's advancing age, they wanted to celebrate the festivals surrounded by all of their children.

"Oh shit."

Arnav hurriedly entered the room and locked the door behind him. Khushi was in the midst of getting ready. was adjusting a delicate gold necklace around her neck. She had styled her dark hair elegantly in loose waves that had gone perfectly with the stunning deep red sari, she had worn. Her eyes sparkled with a hint of concern as she looked up from her reflection.

"What happened?"

"The string of my trousers just snapped. Did you bring a spare?" Arnav replied, noticing how gorgeous she looked.

"Let me see."

As Khushi proceeded to see Arnav's broken trouser string, a mischievous smile appeared on his lips.

"Aren't you a bit too eager to see my treasures, Mrs. Raizada?"

Rolling her eyes at his antics, she said, "Take it off."

"As you wish."

Arnav grabbed her waist, gently placing her on the desk in her room. The old desk was not that big, leaving her back pressed against the wall. He moved to stand between her legs, gently pushing them apart.

"What are you doing?" she whispered yelled as his hands slid up her thighs. He wrapped one of his hands around her waist, pulling her a little closer, while he put the other hand against the wall, above her head.

"Nothing, just testing how sturdy the desk is," he said leaning closer to her. A playful smirk curled on the corners of his lips.

"Arnav, everyone is waiting for us downstairs."

"A few more minutes won't hurt them," he said, capturing her lips in a teasing kiss while his hands gathered her saree around her waist. He touched her in between her legs, finding her already eager for him.

"Ap aise nahi kar sakte," she whispered, biting her lips.

"Kyun nahi kar sakta? Biwi ho tum meri, my legally wedded wife." A soft whimper escaped her lips, as he pushed his fingers in between her nether lips. "And look at you," he murmured, "....already so ready for me. The idea of us on this desk excites you, huh?"

Khushi swatted his shoulder lightly and smiled, her eyes full of mirth. "Shut up."

"Make me."

In the past few years, so much had changed. What hadn't was the undeniable pull between them. Despite the upheavals in many aspects of their lives, there they were, still wrapped up in their own little world.

He looked devastatingly handsome, as always-nothing special in that. But the navy blue kurta he wore today made his eyes stand out even more, and they were now focused on Khushi, brimming with mirth.

Khushi clutched his collars and pulled him close as she fused their lips together, successfully wiping off the teasing grin on his face. Meanwhile, Arnav got rid of his trousers and entered her in a swift motion. Both of them moaned softly, their pleasure barely contained. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt as she pulled him closer. Her back arched slightly while she adjusted to him. His lips travelled down her neck alternately sucking and kissing her soft supple skin. Her head fell back, eyes fluttered shut.

"Don't leave marks. It would be very awkward in front of the relatives." The desk beneath her creaked softly as he began to move.

"Shhh... I won't... at least not where everyone can see." He whispered, lightly sucking behind her ear.

Their rhythm grew frantic. They tried desperately to muffle their moans, as he pounded repeatedly into her. He then realized they were making lots of noises.

"Shit, your bangles.''

"Huh..?" When Arnav saw his wife completely blissed out and lost in the sensation. He just shrugged his shoulder and went back to his previous activities. Soon, their moans mingled in each other's necks as they finished together.

Both were breathing heavily. Khushi cradled her face against his shoulder, her fingers gently playing with his hair. While Arnav tried to catch his breath by resting his head on her neck. A sudden knock on the door startled them. Instead of pushing him away, Khushi clutched his neck even tighter, holding him close. Akash Bhai's voice came through the door.

"Khushi?"

Regaining her composure, Khushi answered in a shaky voice, "Haan, Bhai?" Her body froze in place.

"Where's Arnav? Hasn't he come yet? Bareilly wale Fufaji usko kabse dhoond rahe hain."

"Hume nahi pata, Bhai. Humne unko nahi dekha."

Khushi noticed her husband's shoulders shaking lightly. She cast a glare at his shoulders as if willing them to stop.

"Theek hain, main dekhta hoon. Tum jaldi tayaar hoke niche aao."

As Akash Bhai's footsteps faded, Arnav couldn't hold back his laughter any longer. He looked back at his wife, his amusement contagious. Khushi tried to give him a stern look but ended up laughing along with him, playfully swatting his chest. Arnav gazed at her affectionately before capturing her lips with his.

As much as he loved to kiss her whimpering lips, he loved kissing her smiling ones even more.

After freshening up, Arnav headed downstairs. As soon as he reached the bottom, two little bodies collided with him, and he effortlessly scooped them up into his arms. Three-year-old Akansha, a spitting image of Anjali as a child, brought back memories of his sister's younger days, while five-year-old Ajit, a perfect blend of Akash and Payal. They grinned up at him. Arnav settled into a nearby lounge chair, both children comfortably perched on his lap.

Little Akansha said in her baby voice, "Mamaji, thank you for the gift. Ma said me to thank you." She placed a tiny kiss on his cheek.

Not to be outdone, little Ajit mimicked her. "Ha, Mamaji, thank you."

Akansha quickly turned to him, frowning. "Arre, buddhu, wo sirf mere Mamaji hain. Tumhare nehi."

"He isn't your Mamaji either," Khushi chided little Akansha lovingly. "Remember what I told you? When you go to our house, you'll call him Mamaji. But when we come here, you have to call him Fufaji."

Arnav scrunched his nose in response, "Don't confuse the children, Khushi." Then, turning back to them, he added, "Why don't both of you just call me Uncle, okay?"

Both of them nodded and sprinted off to play in the courtyard.

Meanwhile, two pairs of brown eyes eagerly awaited their turn on his lap. As soon as it was vacant, they climbed onto each of his thighs. A sweet, confused voice asked, "Daddy, do we need to call you that too?"

"Oh, no, I've worked too hard for you to ever call me that."

"Well, your daddy was very close to being called 'Uncle' by my children once upon a time," Khushi said, lightly touching the little girl's nose.

Arnav cast her a mock glare and mouthed soundlessly, "How dare you?" In response, Khushi just laughed.

While little Ayushi snuggled against her father's neck, little Kush played with his toy, absorbed in his own world. Roma Chachi had remarked aptly that Khushi had indeed given birth to their own reflections, as the three-year-old twins were perfect mirrors of their parents.

While little Ayushi was a bit clingy and voiced her need for attention, little Kush was more reserved. Arnav saw himself in Kush more and more as the days went by. Though Kush didn't seek attention outwardly, inside he was just as eager for snuggles and cuddles as his sister. Even if he pretended otherwise, he desired the same affection. So, Arnav made sure to give both children equal attention. And in some cases, he made an extra effort to give affection to Kush while he was still open to it. Because, As Kush grew up, Arnav knew his little boy might not appreciate his father hugging him as much as his daughter might. It's just a man-code.

Arnav pulled little Ayushi closer, planting a kiss on her head, while he affectionately rubbed his son's back. Khushi watched them with a soft smile, her heart swelling with warmth and tenderness. It had been three years since their birth, and Khushi had been pestering Arnav for another child, but he kept refusing. Their birth had traumatized him enough. Arnav till date clearly remembered and almost felt the panic that he had gone through that night.

He had arranged for the best midwife in the area and had called a trained nurse from the missionary hospital for the delivery. The doctor had come as well and assured him that everything was alright and that the birth would proceed naturally. And there he was, pacing in front of the room where Khushi had been for two hours-two hours of listening to her whimpering and screaming in pain. Arnav was just minutes away from asking Hariprakash to fetch the doctor again when a deafening cry of a newborn pierced the air.

A joyous shout of Roma Chachi came from inside, "It's a boy!"

A few moments later, Roma Chachi emerged from the room with a little crying bundle and approached Arnav. But at the same time, another scream from Khushi nearly stopped his heartbeat. Roma Chachi tried to pass the baby to Arnav, but he grabbed her upper arms and asked urgently, "What's happening inside? How's Khushi?"

A hushed whisper circulated among the women in the room who had come to assist with the birth, noting Mr. Raizada's reluctance to take the baby in his arms. Roma Chachi looked around, guessing how the situation must appear, and spoke to Arnav in a hushed voice.

"Take your son, Arnav. Khushi will be alright."

Chastised by his mother-in-law, Arnav looked at the baby, who had stopped crying and was now gazing at him with wide eyes. He took the baby in his arms and sat on a sofa in the corridor. The baby's little body squirmed in the palm of his hand. Father and son stared at each other for quite some time. An overwhelming sense of protectiveness washed over him, though he couldn't exactly name the other emotions coursing through him. He just kissed the baby boy's forehead lightly and spoke softly as if the baby would clearly understand his words, "I'm not mad at you. I'm just scared."

A little while later, Anjali took the baby from Arnav while Khushi's screams continued to echo from the room, driving him to the brink of madness. He asked Hariprakash to fetch the doctor and also asked Anjali to go inside and see what was happening. Suddenly, the screaming stopped, and Arnav's heart pounded at the sudden silence. Roma Chachi emerged with another bundle, her face radiant with a brilliant smile. "There was another baby-a girl. It's a little Khushi."

Arnav placed his hand on the baby's head and asked, "How's she?"

"She will be okay, Arnav," Roma Chachi reassured him and transferred the baby to Arnav. He felt her snuggle into him as he placed a soft kiss on her crown. Since then, Little Ayushi never missed a chance to snuggle into her father's arm.

When everybody went home and the babies were settled with Anjali and Payal in the next room. Roma Chachi decided to sleep in the room, attached to where Khushi was. She was sleeping soundly after giving birth. The doctor said she had lost a lot of blood. Although the bleeding had stopped, she had become very weak. She looked pale, alarmingly pale actually and her breathing was shallow. Fear gripped Arnav's heart despite everybody's reassurance.

He spent the night holding her hand and sitting on the floor near her head, counting her breaths. He didn't know when he fell asleep, his head resting near their joined hands. But he woke up to Khushi's gentle fingers lightly gliding through his hair. When he opened his eyes, she urged him to lie down beside her on the bed. He obliged, and she didn't waste any time snuggling into his chest, her arm draped across his belly.

"Will you be angry with me for the rest of your life if I leave this world before you?"

Arnav's heart dropped at her question. "Don't ask me questions like that."

"Answer me, please."

He pressed his lips to her forehead. "I can never be angry at you."

"Good, I don't want you to be angry at me at all."

"Then don't even think of leaving."

Khushi tilted her head to look at him and smiled tiredly. Arnav placed a soft kiss on her dry lips. "I felt like I would never see you again, or our babies..... I was so scared."

Arnav gulped down the lump in his throat and didn't say anything in response, only pulled her closer to his body.

She had been quiet for a while, and Arnav thought she had fallen asleep when she spoke again."We have two babies now," she said almost disbelievingly.

"Yes, we do. We didn't even know how to raise one."

"Shhh, we'll manage," she said dreamily. "One baby is for you, one baby is for me. Did you hold them?"

"Yes, I did."

"I haven't yet. I guess I had fainted at the end," she said sadly.

"Why don't you get some sleep and gather some energy, Mommy?" he said lovingly. "If they're to be like you, we'll have a lot on our hands."

"What are you saying? I was a very quiet kid."

"Sure, you were," he whispered against her forehead.

"You were no better, mister. I know all the stories from your childhood, so you can't deny it. At least I didn't get stuck in a patila."

Laughing, Arnav gathered her in his arms even tighter, and both of them fell asleep like that.

"Bhaiya, Bhabi, come quickly! Roma Aunty is calling you," Amelia's voice called out across the courtyard to the little bubble of the family of four, who were just chatting.

Over the years, Amelia blossomed into the remarkable young lady she was destined to be. As the cloud of melancholy gradually lifted, it revealed her true essence—a kind, compassionate, and fun-loving individual, fiercely protective of those she loved.

"Let's go Mrs.Raizada."

He extended his hand toward his wife.

Khushi looked up at his extended hand, recalling a time when he had reached out in much the same way to guide a little girl out of the darkness.

Khushi scooped up Kush in her arms as Arnav held Ayushi. Hand in hand with their children nestled in their arms, they joined the rest of the family. The warmth of the burning diyas cast a golden glow over them.

In the end, as they embraced the spirit of the festival, they realized they found their perfect piece of forever in each other's arms, in each other's eyes, knowing that this was where they were always meant to be.

----------THE END----------

<previous>

@featheredclover @arshifiesta @phuljari @msbhagirathi @jalebi-weds-bluetooth @chutkiandchotte

[sonics-atelier]

Appreciation Post <33

Happy New Year fellow unhinged people, the past year has been one hell of a Rollercoaster and I'm glad I got to share it with everyone I love. I've made so many amazing friends and I'd like to tell them how appreciated, loved and cherished there are, hence this post. Wishing everyone so much happiness and success in this year and I hope your days go by filled with peace and joy, I love all of you very much 💗. ( Apologies for being late )

@shadowqueenjude - My Wife, My Love, You are charismatic, powerful, stubborn ( ily for that btw ), passionate and so damn hard working. I am the luckiest person on earth to have you as my confidant ( still dont know that i did to deserve you ). I remember last year when I randomly dmed you to vent about the fandom and you understood me so well, and how I stayed up till 4 am just to talk to you and how I had been searching all my life for someone like you and we found each other like it was always meant to be. The rest is history. We've been through sm together and never once has my love for wavered. You're just that amazing. I am yours, for now and ever. Keep being amazing 💕

@decadentpostnacho - Meri Jaan, You walked into my life and you were like the missing puzzle piece that instantly fit into my life and heart ( destiny fr ) You are the fuzzy green blanket I can wrap myself in when things get too much ( you're entire presence is calming ✨️ ). You're one of the most kindhearted and beautiful people I've ever known. We were put on this earth to find our ways back to each other ( long live the teatectives ). I love you more than words can ever express 💖

@mintedwitcher - I LOVE YOU. you are so fucking brave and amazing and I've come to cherish everything about you, I'm so grateful that cherik brought us together. Our late night conversations about our Headcanons and wips and your ability to make me sob have been the highlight of my year, ty for making things bearable and for going above and beyond for me, I will hold you dear always 💕

@achaotichuman - At the risk of repeating myself, you're a great person and an even better friend. You've been there when I've needed you most, you've been kind, understanding and unapologetically honest ( which i love ) and for being an amazing writer ( kaimond *sobs* ) and for all the amazing recs. I hold all our unhinged convos close to my heart. Thank you for being yourself 🫶

@matrixsss - YOU ARE PHENOMENAL. Becoming mutuals then friends with you was one of the best decisions I made this year. You're so talented and kind I am over the moon how our vibes match instantly ✨️. Thank you for being someone whom I could rely on and being the personification of comfort. ( we're Kakashi and might guy coded lmao ) Ilysm ( I'll always be there for you ) 🥺💗

@yaralulu - ILY, you're so sweet and fun to talk to. I AM IN LOVE with your writing. Getting to know you and becoming friends was by far one of the best things to happen in 2024. I adore your sense of humor and how you're able to be both sweet and sassy, like 🤌. tysm for dealing with my screaming about itwv ( I still need therapy btw ) and being awesome. Keep slaying ✨️

@praetorqueenreyna - MOTHER, I still remember how I screamed when I saw we were mutuals ( yes I'm an unashamed fangirl ). Thank you so much for introducing me to so many amazing fandoms like iwtv and the captive prince. You are a treasure and I love you so so so much. You're quite literally a role model. ( also tysm for holding my stupid ass back from doing things that would get me cancelled ) KEEP BEING THE ICON YOU ARE 💕

@highlordofkrypton - Awesome falls short for how awesome you are ( I'm lame Ik ). The way we instantly connected and then proceeded to bitch about a situation was the best bonding experience ever. I am in awe of how great of a writer you are. Your stories have me by the throat and what I love most about it is how you include cultures and history and motives in it, It means so much to me. You're an amazing friend ( I am so sorry for all the times I was ready to go to war and you had to keep me in check 😭 ) your intuition is always right, you're multitalented ( an artist now too !!! ). All hail agent Reacher 💗

@thegolden-tigeress - Shree, My Sweetheart, I love you to Saturn and back. Thank you for being the shoulder I could cry on and always uplifting me even I'm going through things. I don't know how I can ever thank you enough for that. You're invaluable to me. My life has been lit ( pun intended ) ever since you walked in it. Tysm for making me laugh, for loving my writing and for always having my back. I couldn't have asked for a better friend 🥺💗💗

@watcherintheweyr - SOULMATE, Oh how I love you, I was so elated that we share sm fandoms and interests. It's usually very hard for me to become friends and then have that bond stay strong but you've proven me wrong. I usually never took the initiative of caring about things happening in people's lives but for you I changed all that. You are like the elder sister I never had, you understand me so well and I love you sm ( totally didn't fall for you just because you had horses ). You're an amazing writer too, I'm OBSESSED with your wordlbuilding and ocs 🛐. I vow to be your hua cheng for eternity. Shine like the star you are Vira, ily forever 💗

[bookns]

The Manuscript is that song for me off TTPD. Tortured poets came out April 19th and that day was already so important to me. It was the day my school was hosting Poetry Day (which I KNOW what a coincidence). The whole poetry day was a three day conclusion of a writing workshop. I attended the workshop as one of the fourteen students that were chosen. The first day of the workshop was held by a professor. Professor Kimiko Hahn, known for her poems and her vision of motherhood. She taught us how to express ourselves with themes... of elegance and disgust. I choose the theme of girlhood but truth be told, I choose my girlhood. The one that left as I turned 18. The poem was named ode to girlhood. Each line is a description from my life.

"It's frightening to think if i had not lived my teenage years the way i did, would i still be me?

Would i still made of Books and journals filled with the prose of my purity that has lead me to beg on my very knees.

For forgiveness or for permission. 

I shall never tell 

Only Pandora’s box could hold the truth to my convictions.  

Throughout my high school experience, I always had a journal on me. I went through 12 within 6 years of high school. It kept me grounded and allowed me to breathe. Something you will notice is that I mention many greek myths, and of course if you know this blog, you will know I am a Percy Jackson girl. Raised by Annabeth Chase herself, this was my love letter to such a series.

I am eighteen - 

I have traveled to worlds that are formed with words born out of minds that crack into the deepest of skulls.

After the war of my ways, i have learned that life is a manner that only artists can paint 

Crucial to the success of the greater good I made my choice of my future.

Will I regret it?

Will I ever make peace for whom I've become due to it?

None of us will know.

I am now eighteen, and my love for writing is the only thing keeping me ashore. I travel more than most people, always one foot out to see the world and yet I had stayed home for my college experience.

Being 13 was a treasure and a threat to my very well being

Every intake of his rosy red lips pooled through my lungs engulfing in a sickness only love can cause 

He was Polymepus on pursuit and I, the golden fleece tied to him as always 

“Tu meri dil haga”

You had my heart, 

“Tu meri dil torda”

And you broke it too 

This was about a boy that I had nicknamed my 'would've could've should've' boy. I liked him at thirteen yet I now know it was more than like. I had loved it for many years, always at the back of my heart, this boy. It's madness remembering how little I remember of thirteen. He was Indian much like myself and the language that I translate is one he and I share.

14, in hindsight was a wound to to my soul 

A Treacherous path that undoes all of your doing 

The thread that my Nani wrapped me when i was afraid whirled through her lifeless eyes 

It was my broken heart against the world, at least that is what it felt like when the ongoing pile of patients that preach prayers on my doorway 

A life lesson within ink 

I was 14 when COVID hit. The isolation that came with it was unlike anything other. No one will be able to comprehend the chemical change that happened to me that year. Memories of being a kid, sharing a bed with my grandmother (Nani), changed as I grew out of my childhood bedroom. The boy that I swore I loved, and in the deepest part of my heart, still do broke me.

fifteen was torture in a pleasureable way - a gun shot that set off no alarms 

It could have broken me - the growth of my bedside pills or the shrinking of my stomach 

But it was worth it when my pose in the portrait was picture perfect with my shiny eyes and crooked teeth 

Even Aphrodite would’ve fallen from grace when the reflection she saw in the mirror was my face 

I look back at my fifteen year old self and my heart burns for her. I felt as if I had to look like the girls in the screens. I remember it being an act. An act of beauty.

Dear Reader, sixteen was perpetual loneliness

Midnight brushed away my forlorn tears 

Helen of Troy, they loathe me too

Only Sisyphus understands me now- can catch me now 

Hollow as each step of the Eiffel tower that i had stepped out alone 

 The wolves that hunted me withering me with weight - either dust or diamond.

At sixteen, Taylor's Midnights album came out and it turned me into the woman I am today. My best friend had left me at this age, and it felt like the whole world hated me because of it. I had traveled to France by myself - I had always wanted to go - but during this trip, I remember feeling so lonely. It was a tragedy in the making but seventeen changed that.

seventeen brought forth anew 

Glittering in only the shine of my eyeshadow in the summer sun

Saltwater and sunshine were my afterglow 

That pressure had made me a diamond 

And diamonds are forever 

Seventeen gifted me with something I would never change back. Myself. I learned how to be alone, how to celebrate the little moments (the eyeshadow is a reference to my first time wearing eyeshadow the day of my Era's Tour), and how to be a teenage girl flirting with a boy midst some of the most stressful exams a high schooler has to take.

In hindsight an Ode to teenage years can not be possible without the idea that in every universe, the presence of vulnerability is a form only which a teenage girl - can posses"

"The professor said to write what you know. Looking backwards might be the only way to move forward." Kimiko Hahn had advised us to think about who we are, and how it reflects our writing. Then the actors that were hitting their marks...each friend that I had lost during high school were watching stand on the podium and tell my story. But the story isn't mine anymore.

[bleeding--scales]

continued from HERE. @bloodyarn

"It's no mistake," Meri bends at the hip, looming over the seamstress with stormy intent dancing behind her eyes. "that's what I am."

Her eyes chart a looooong path down the smaller one's figure, an intentional bow of her head, making no effort to mask the lechery on display as she polishes her teeth with a swipe of her tongue.

"You know what they say about us pirates, little lady." She is no closer than she was just a minute ago, but her voice lowers to Babette's level, a deep timbre that coiled the air like a serpent. "We love to plunder booty," A sideways grin and a creak of her jaw. "and it seems you're packin' quite the treasure."

Her stare very purposefully leaps to untoward places.

[antisolararc]

sharing this little thing i wrote for an ask game on insta bc i actually put some effort into the writing--

Mery and Odd unconventional but perhaps similar (?) ideas of love. which is part of why they work well together, even though everyone else thinks it's kinda weird.

Audrist, ever forthright, would only ever want to be loved for what he is, even if he imagines himself a reviling specimen. He doesn't want to be showered in petty praise or be treated like a fragile thing. He wants to be respected, to be an equal, to protect and be protected in equal parts. He wants to earn his love by forging it from the flame because that is the only love that feels strong enough to support him. Love served on a silver platter isn't appetizing at all. Love me enough to give me a real challenge, to gnash our teeth together for fun, safe in the knowledge that my blood is yours and your blood is mine.

Meridian, likewise, cannot stand the idea of being loved for a false image. Ironic, given their... "career path," but those two things aren't exactly unrelated. They are always afraid that they cannot truly be loved for what they are, always hiding in fear of shame and rejection. So they wish that someone would care enough to look closer, that someone would even acknowledge there might be something worthwhile hiding in that shoddy, paper mâché prophet. To be seen, and for that sight to be cherished no matter how unsightly, is love. Love me enough to search for me, to see my ever-changing shape, and treasure it for its substance regardless.

[kaerinio]

ALSO??? aerea's disappearance??? look, i'm probably insane, but balerion was already old by the time she claimed him. he was around 170?? and like, okay, dragons are magical creatures, yes. they are highly intelligent. they are very much attached to being willful and maintaining their own free will. however, within this universe, they are still living creatures, and we see balerion's age showing by this point (based off of what the dragonkeepers tell alyssa less than 25 years later?? when she expressed interest in wanting to claim balerion). sooo, i think a couple things could have happened here:

1) balerion very well could have confused aerea for daenys. dragons aren't without confusion/mistake! quentyn notes that viserion became erratic when he smelled meris and saw her blonde hair, and he perhaps thought that his mother had come for him. something very similar could have happened when aerea approached balerion. and, when she told him that she wanted to go home, perhaps he was remembering some of daenys' lamentations (which, if he ever seemed prepared to return to valyria, she would have known to stop him . . . whereas aerea, a child, new to dragonriding and to balerion and unsure of valyria's direction, no doubt, wouldn't have known). but . . . perhaps he was simply trying to obey this longstanding wish of daenys': to return home.

but there's also . . . 👀

2) where balerion, seeing the direction the house was taking, attempted to take the house back to its roots. aerea was heir to two targaryen kings and a would-be targaryen king. and, within these courts, she was treated as heir and cherished. interestingly, after maegor's death, rhaena allowed for the throne to be passed to jaehaerys, claiming that he was more fit, as her daughter was young and timid. anyways, what i'm trying to say is that by targaryen tradition, it should have been her on the throne by the time she claimed balerion. and i think balerion saw that. he also saw how maegor had gone against targaryen tradition by demanding male heirs and treasuring male heirs while robbing targaryen women of their autonomy and power (aka locking rhaena in a tower?? balerion was probably like 'you're literally visenya's son. what are you doing???' this is one of those moments where balerion was probably thinking of how visenya would be disgusted . . . and the thing is . . . visenya raised maegor with the valyrian customs of strength being important above all else. in valyria, she would have been the head of her house without a doubt. she was raised as a valyrian heir, and we see this in how she interacts with the world around her and in how she picked up a sword as the firstborn, and her house supported her! she warned aenys that he needed to rule with strength, and when he gave blackfyre to maegor, it was the literal culmination of him giving away his strength/showing that he had none. in her eyes, the cannibalization of the house in that instance was warranted because they needed a strong head to rule/survive, and she raised her son to fill that role. now, i'm rambling but . . . visenya would have choice opinions about the dance, but if asked who she would support, it would be rhaenyra). anyway, this moment could have been a harbinger and a warning to turn back to the old ways because maegor introduced a touch of andal assimilation, and with jaehaerys on the throne, the house was about to go even deeper down that path.

[rajni31]

"Everlasting Gratitude"

In the quiet whispers of the night, you shine,

Your words a balm, a gift divine.

Through shadows cast and skies above,

Your love resounds, unwavering love.

Your solace beams within the darkest hour,

A beacon bright, an eternal flower.

In the vast expanse where dreams take flight,

Your presence glows, a guiding light.

The world may falter, trials may impend,

Yet your spirit soars, a steadfast friend.

With whispered vows in silent air,

Your support holds, so strong and fair.

With bonds that weave through joy and sorrow,

Our connection’s thread, an unbroken arrow.

Endless echoes of care and glee,

Your friendship's treasure, a jubilee.

In every verse, in every line,

Your affection's warmth, a pure design.

For every laugh and every tear,

Your constant love, forever near.

The universe whispers, the stars align,

Your love, a melody, so fine.

Through highs and lows, in every plea,

You're cherished deeply, meri nikki dikkiii.

Forever entwined, our souls in sync,

Through life's dance, in every blink.

With heartfelt gratitude, I'll replay,

Your love's the sun that lights my day.

Follow for more such content ✨️

[faiirytalcs]

closed: meri webster & hiro hamada ( @hirosix ) location: repurposed dreams

Meri didn't make it a habit to spend time in pawn shops or thrift stores, but she'd been convinced recently that real treasures could be hidden there, and she wasn't busy - it was worth a shot, right? Sighing after pawing through some records and random trinkets, she glanced over to the nearest person, hoping they had more experience. "You ever find anything good here? Or at that other place? I can't help but feel like this is all... garbage."

[astralyavie]

@meryasek location: fairy king's forest notes: kiss kiss

The leaves no longer wilted when Yavie approached, there was no brush of a cool breeze but a stillness instead. The wind seemed to vanish, the world fell silent, and Yavie slipped into the heart of the fairy king’s forest. His oldest, treasured friend. Difficult as Meryasek could be, he would always be that to the elf. 

A new power bloomed about his friend now, not unfamiliar to someone who’d spent as long as Yavie traversing the Astral, but foreign to this realm. “Fey'ri- '' Yavie said with a smile as he floated around Meryasek, inspecting him before he stopped before him and clasped the other’s cheeks between his palms. “I didn’t think it was possible, I thought… I thought you were gone to the Underdark.” To the life of a boring drow, Yavie had hated that for Mery

[zannolin]

4 7 AND 17!!!! -kai

HI KAI my beloved thank youuuu <3

4. Do you prefer writing multi-chapter or oneshot fanfictions?

oneshots full stop. okay well rolling stop. i love multi-chapters in theory but my god i hate the execution they take SO long to write and i have to keep so much straight and i have to pick CHAPTER TITLES and have you noticed how people are the worst about commenting on multichaps? if you post a oneshot people seem to be more likely to leave you a lovely comment with all their thoughts. post a multichapter and people won't comment 'til it's over or just leave a one-line comment like "can't wait til there's more!!" and it's like why did i even put in all this work if it was miserable to write and there's no joy in posting HUH. but also i do love when i have like one person i know is reading it and i have a reveal happening at some point or a crazy cliffhanger and i get to see their reaction to it. moth's reactions to the fey au were very fun back in the day. so yeah i'm a oneshot girlie but i keep writing ill-advised multi-chapters and telling myself "this time it will be different" (it is not different the best it gets is subreddits calling your fic "super underrated" which is not actually the compliment people think it is).

7. What’s a trope you love to write?

love to write a good college fic. found family, of course, is a big one. and hurt/comfort is my beloved.

17. Are there any writers and/or stories that you consider an influence?

writers (fic): @/rebelpeas, @/eirianerisdar, meri, laquearia, @/rarilight, @/blusandbirds, aknightley, YouAreInAComaWakeUp writers (other): maggie stiefvater, tamsyn muir, t kira madden, carmen maria machado, my sister, ann patchett, kristen arnett, edgar allen poe, lemony snicket, tolkien (obligatory), shel silverstein, probably wayne thomas batson unfortunately

stories (not book specific): the scorpio races, the secret life of bees, the twistrose key, the polar express (2004), fnaf, the oz books, home alone 2: lost in new york (1992), parallelograms by agrestenoir, pins and needles by mutterandmumble, national treasure (2004), the truman show (1998), the half of it (2020), frances ha (2012), the goose girl by shannon hale, the starcatchers series, the lion, the witch, and the wardrobe, the haunting of hill house (2018), mabel podcast, welcome to night vale podcast, alice isn't dead podcast, the odd life of timothy green (2012), moulin rouge! (2001), the spiderwick chronicles, over the garden wall (2014), the x-files, object 3921.0045.371, catalog entry by wrishwrosh, this one (well, one and a half) christmas musical production the church where i live put on (that i was in fun fact) that involved two characters reuniting after like 30 years that left an unbelievable impact on my 12 y/o brain, mlp:fim, and star trek....to name a few.

i feel like that explains both everything and nothing about my writing.

ask game!!

[kannahsuniverse]

And my shadow stretching out, through all the things i've left behind...

A child that has been lost to sea. Swept away by the arms that shall breach. A boy determined to follow her voice, seduced, allured by the curse that it is the void. Parents aloof, neighbours have stared, at the home that is barren of laughter and love that was shared. A promise is trapped and guarded like treasure, some will come to conquer the receiver. Whispers are carried from pillar to post, lost in translation but never the hope.

Vanora Meris. - Female/Non (White Wave; butterfly, Of The Sea)

Morvan Adris-Ciro. - Male/Non (Sea Raven, King-Sun)

Siblings separated. either at birth or when they were young.

Pirate/Navy Daughter.

Gardener-Middle class/Florist Son.

[libidomechanica]

Of the surrounding and drunk as flies

And thou for beautiful things at     times with two alone thro’ Crystal’d lily be the mought him     with might, blood-thirsts appear,

nor let not to rule them so’ so     take his bow, kneel, touch’d with you canst view. Now and touch end     persever, and, subtle soul

of Plato in her solitary     hills alone and their forte; ’ but no one can hath more or     less, yet more their wont

countenancie to the long life to come.     You: you linger’d still murder added charming Chloe, tripping     o’er marks the countenance

with ardent Lover’s laps     awkwardly, at its here Adeline was glorious Toil attends.     With great Lord t’assault

a genial soil seems fertile in     them all the dark, the like the key of my spouse of her life,—     so I, with careful to

save prayed: give the blissfully haunt,     and waited that this paine mighty contact; and, with Hawthorne     buds, and of all be turn

out. Proud, since, it shod ill, thou, in     an everything or vanish’d out a suit, I court, are treasures     of man’s fingers made:

the soft: tho creepe god blessing, ye     joyful and endeth, sleepiness well as dare approach the     retire, are, as stones

of quainted, unassail’d by that     close, you break, a soft, cries the coldly shows in her blue so     swift display, and tell he

sprung amidst may not yet with five     hundred Years, he had good nigh retired quieted. Trembling     together, or whether

one had might be blotted, or a     saints, and brauest retired the lobes of Heaven, though no doubt he’s     a-getting the best, my

sisters of these words dissent. And     relation, such wild hills, and such is for leauing him out the     little darts, for a kiss—

like the newell, though a fading     each charmed maids wait they pleas’d amain.—Water—fire lives, neatly     tender coloured thy youth,

lucke, and floods, and in all, but haue     learnt how to kicks out a bad graces implore to come: and     Ioy, while the bring to row

them both, and ever call celestial     heat burnt from its knot, I charge her Hair, some good, but let     us marry me? Even

Petrarch’s flames? So tell heart all     full glow, and the ceremony kneeling from me, while decline;     and long galleons

of existent, she’s tolerable     Lord! In any kin, arrangement, the common Teutonic     pimp of Ottoman

paradise. The door upon her     Mother receive the mery money burns. Is captives led     into necessity.

[bleeding--scales]

name; captain meri merdoc. age; 37 years. race; levistus tiefling. class; fighter/druid (circle of the sea). gender; cis, she/her. whereabouts; sailing around the sea of swords or getting drunk at any number of port cities. height; 5'10''. weight; 195lb. aroma; sea salt, bourbon and leather. weaknesses; a pretty lady and a bottle of mead.

sailors and fishermen alike share whispers of her fables. her name never meets lips, her infamy never given face. they know not who she is, only the sunken corpses of ships left behind in her wake. a ravenous onslaught of teeth and fins, blood mixed with the ocean spray, countless souls lost to the waves.

her motivations are clear. a self-proclaimed defender of the seas. cutting down those who seek to bloody her waters for selfish gain. for years now, the fishermen have not known peace. very few brave her domain, and fewer still return home.

fame and fortune hold no glimmer in her eyes. she seeks her treasure in pounds of flesh. and god help anyone who stands in her way.

[solifloris]

≡;-꒰ 𝐊𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐍 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I 𝒕𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒆𝒔𝒕 (𝒊'𝒍𝒍 𝒈𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈)

╰┈➤ ❝ PRELUDE | kieran x mc!afab!reader

tags : no smut. poetry, general intro, angst, mention of scars (general). ~200 wc.

an : happy sylus myth announcement day here's the prelude as promised 🤲

SERIES MASTERLIST / KO-FI / COMMISSIONS

this series contains sexual content, and is only for those 18+. if you are a minor, please do not interact. I BLOCK MINORS AND BLOGS WITHOUT ANY AGE INDICATOR.

As it was said in days of old...

Where rumors would grow of treasures untold, and where darkness would meet the light; in spindles of vine and flowers of gold, lay a voice that would call to the night. For there by the hedge reaching far to the stars...

Comes a tale of the fool—

And his demise.

“O, darling heart of flame, Prithee, wouldst thou guidest me? With boldness of youth shouldst I acclaim, Dost thou hearest me?”

And sunlight beckoned, all warm and new, A dance beneath the skies—

But the fool did not know.

Of feathers, and wax— He’d fall down below. So far, so harsh.

His scars would only grow.

For to touch the sun was heaven blessed; A radiance of perfect demise O guiding beauty, O damsel of light, Calamity in perfect disguise.

Dear tragic child of morning’s embrace, Dared soar too close to love’s fair grace...

Lo, the tale of Icarus and his sun.

It was not meant to be.

It was not meant to be.

Don't get too close.

You'll burn.

(Or, so it says. But to me, you’re already a sin I can’t refuse; sweeter than evil. So, to you who shines the brightest...

I'll give you everything.)

so i had to study forms of poetry for this lmfao,

taglist: @interstellar-inn @pixelcafe-network @hunters-association @darlingdummycassandra @milkandstarlight @thoupenguinman @valyvinny @rafayelsheart @jellyroom2 @chemiru @ywnzn @pepprrmint @angel-jupiter @cordidy @raiyuxa @xai-mery @abyssalblossom @oharasmommymilkers00 @pikachuzhc @venussakura @love-and-deepstrays @cloverlilies @midiplier @kreishin @deusfoundry @m2ichaelis @keioxo

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

[drsanjaymukherjee]

Unveiling “Main Aur Meri Awargi” - The Lost Gem of Kishore Kumar 🎶, now sung by Dr. Sanjay Mukherjee

I’m thrilled to share an unforgettable musical treasure with all of you—“Main Aur Meri Awargi”, an unreleased, melancholic masterpiece originally sung by the one and only Kishore Kumar. This song captures the essence of solitude and longing, a reflection of emotions about a loved one lost.

With soulful lyrics by Javed Akhtar, one of the most revered lyricists of our time, and a haunting melody composed by the iconic R.D. Burman, this piece unites four legends of Indian music to create something truly timeless.

As you listen, let yourself be immersed in the heartfelt vocals, the poetic brilliance of the lyrics, and the plaintive music of Pancham Da. I hope this lost gem touches your heart as deeply as it did mine.

🎧 Listen, feel, and share the magic of “Main Aur Meri Awargi.” Do like and subscribe to my YouTube Channel.