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pigtailedgirl · 2 months

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Due South and a Canadian White Girl North-ish

I'm so nervous. Addition: Perhaps some trigger warning for abuse and illness talk?

So I read this great Due South fanfic.

BLESSED

I think it's going in my top ten. And I have a bunch I like that deal in the same theme. In Fraser's fit of himself in the city versus northern Canada and how he finds something in the contrasts.

Still this fanfic, though it does a neat re-examine overall, and others, have an image I guess that is put out by Fraser, by the narrative, of Canada that just does not work for me.

EXAMPLE

***

"Think about being somewhere else," Cleve told him as the strings began to vibrate again. "Anywhere but here."

And he did. Where did he want to be? Anywhere but here. Yes, Cleve had indeed answered the question for him.

The MacKenzie River, strong and swift, slicing through the spruce and pine, cutting a path between the snowcapped mountains.

The frozen, inhospitable Beaufort Sea, where a man could see his own breath turn to ice on the air and blow back to his face, clinging crystals of ice on his skin and lashes.

The mighty forests of tamarack and poplar that covered the western slope of the coastal mountain ranges. The warm, gentle breezes of heady lodgepole pine scent. The soft hiss and crackle of campfire, mellowed by a handful of cedar bark.

"There you go," Cleve decided at last in a quiet, satisfied voice.

Ben smiled until his face hurt, not quiet ready to open his eyes and let go his vision just yet. The strings felt good, like the strips of cedar bark he had imagined for the fire, the neck of the guitar a more than adequate rendering of the canoe paddle the MacKenzie demanded. The smooth, time worn wood of the box pressed into his belly, a body that complemented his, perfect in its unyieldingness, yet matching his every bend and twist.

Stella the True.

Ben would have given her another name.

His eyes opened then, noticing first how the world seemed to have blurred in more ways than one, and that the smile had faded away as the memories had faded in upon him. The world was only blurry for a few seconds more, until he realized that once he blinked the beginnings of tears from his eyes, the world became amazingly clear. So much became amazingly clear.

"Don't give up on yourself, son," Cleve Abernathy's voice came from somewhere very, very far away. Fraser gave his saturated eyes to the man who had spoken.

***

"Where I come from, people help one another. If one goes without, then all go without equally, so that everyone has a chance. You don't let your neighbor's coal run out in January. You don't let their stomachs go empty when your kill is plenty. When their children don't return from the trail, you go looking for them. That's just the way it is."

***

It's beautifully written, but feels wrong to me. Feels like lies to my lived experiences. Being from a small place like Fraser, this is a beautiful sentiment, and not at all true to it's realities.

When Fraser, Due South's narrative and comedy, and fandom view the otherness of the wilderness or northern Canada, make big deals to study it, never mind just mark Canada different in broad... It feels othering. Othering in a way I think is really important to how Fraser doesn't fit in if he's got this perspective too.

I've grown with stories about people and family who lived the same kind of lives as the Fraser family. In modern ways my home here still is like this. I even lived some like this and I'm baby in comparison.

Remote and isolated. Lots of nature to be in. Law, education and medicine as tiers in the community that are mostly outsiders to the community either brought in short-term or recurring.

Even those who live here permanently now, have founded themselves career wise, and have to, going away to do it or having been born and raised elsewhere. Christ, we have to basically leave after high-school more than 1000km away. HAVE TO.

And there is a definite disconnect between this group who are outsiders and the what I would call settled persons in the emotional connection to the place and town and the ability to fit in.

If it's a truism to me, this idea of grand north, natural beauty or isolation in a small town, with the people, to get in touch with an emotional growth is the biggest lie I have ever witnessed done by people to themselves. And this is an idealism of outsiders. You don't come out into isolation or live it to get NEW emotional needs met. You don't grow yourself thinking this is something special or the true way or will fix you.

Those that say living like this is a personal spiritual ride are:

1. High on their own supply as it were, aka, either tapping what they had dormant before or pretending.

2. Doing so off the backs of those who just don't think too much about it and are where and what they are.

If I had a dollar for every doctor or therapist I met who came here and were enamored by the place, the seas and freedoms and kind people and opportunities in solitude, expected it to change the people here and them, and then ran wild because they were always dumbasses, or took advantage, or after a year of seeing it day to day still wouldn't or didn't understand how to live with it and ran or got burnt out...RICH.

Because the truth is that small communities and remoteness don't make special or perfect people or places. We aren't magic, we aren't even that different, we just face a different or smaller reality.

I'm struck by the story One Good Man paints of Fraser's grandmother, who faced early trauma, and to me tells a reality you maybe don't want to embrace fully but should reflect on before concluding the nature of life here. A young woman who saw her town burn, who saved some of the children in it, but watched the others and adults die and was also horribly physically and probably emotionally scarred by it. Who only had an idea, and with it, bravery in the face of that moment, and after the strength to hang on as her backbone tip of surviving. Any wonder then, the tough it attitude and gift of wisdom was maybe her main survival and emotional mantra. That what tied her there to keep trying to give knowledge to people and how she pushed that above emotion on her grandson was this.

I think canon does a good job of highlighting an undercurrent of why Fraser and family still didn't fit in and why Fraser and Due South is a story of growth as a person and finding his home/community is going outside. His emotional needs weren't here. That's alright to find elsewhere when you need it.

@juniperpomegranate made a really great point of difference of Fraser's north, so often idealized in show or fic, and how it isn't actually like a town. It's not imagined or filled or understood in the reality of a community. Which is hella important. Because your community and relationships is how you really fit in a place like that or in my home.

And that's people. People to connect to. People who aren't wildly different. Experiences only seem wild to outsiders. Perfection or an image of better peeps is only lauded to cover in my opinion.

We face hardships and issues. We don't face them mythically. Nature is pretty and it requires work and understanding of it, learned only from experience and listening or knowing others who have, to survive and thrive in.

The reason we have outsider law or medicine or education come in is...

Well it can be real fun when the town is faced with say influenza and has no resources, or knowledge about it. Where you have to be cajoled to get immunized by your sister dressing up in the nurse's coat and leaving, to trick you into coming out of hiding. Where Dad tells stories of my great-grandma who plastered everyone with coal oil for cures as the rock of the town. Or where, when you have criminal stuff or domestic violence or mental illness and you can't treat or stop. A woman who hurt her family for decades because she was sadly untreated and unknown Schizophrenic. When another woman my dad's age wrote of her harrowing experience of childhood, of her mom dying from cancer and her father putting her to work as a teenage girl to care for the siblings and home, and then not providing any of his income or the support people gave him for them, until she and her siblings were literally found starving. Cause he fucked off to the neighbors. Cause the whole town knew it was happening, but there was no alternative, this was just their monetary and work survival versus that family and that family's lack of social capital paired with no place to go. Where solution was when law finally came in an forcefully moved the minor kids to different fosters in villages 100s of kilometers away, this was just a daily continuation of life though for most here.

See law, as external resource, can't even do much beyond come in twice a year and judge people. Punishment for crimes is more social than moral and depends on taking a person out of the community most times. Bob Fraser, Mounties and cops who ship around to different spots, if they are good get then respect sure, but they were and always have to stay detached to not bias too. It's a hard one. It's you can have impact and respect, for example the priest use to come a couple times a year and get the good dishes out for him, but you don't build the emotional connection of say staying for the weddings after-parties of music and dancing all night. Of people crossing islands to visit each other at the end of weeks' work.

In this vein I'm not surprised Bob had a great reputation and a lot of "friends" he didn't know.

And education. Where it's people come to knowledge at you, or knowledge from you. Where it's students come to study you like you are a tropical native of the 18th century. Write their papers and go back and take your history and skills to sell and forget the here left behind. Or come dodging the drafts of the States. All our stories or archives are in a "local" museum we can't even get to without a plane ticket yo. Or again those who come to give wisdom like they are the holders and we are heathen plebs. With maybe a one in ten being someone or something honest or decent. Though I'm a little bias here. My mom was a teacher who came here in the 70s and spent her whole life teaching grade school. Literal one room school house start. Who met and married and stayed with my Dad here. Some people do catch. Some, I think like maybe the example of Fraser's grandma, which I have soft feeling for probably because of this, just really want to impart shared knowledge and get happiness from seeing it grow and having that personal shot to help it. In a small community that seed growing outwards, to see it, is freaking awesome. But key is shared. You got to learn from too.

Finally, small isolated communities need and foster their connection through the people. Who you know. How you are all related. The meme of does everybody know everyone in Canada hits lol. But that's got the inverse too. There is no privacy. Loners be seen and judged. Again, social fit and capital being supreme.

That's why the nature loner or lover is myth too. Drop you off on a pretty snow covered lake. Pretty yes, magical and just for you, no. You still need the community knowledge to know where the fish, which direction is inland or sea, where is best shelter, where is Indians in the country to help you trap, when does the supplies boats and airdrops come. Nothing is done alone okay, trust me on this. You go out to snowshoe alone on a clear day, and weather strikes and you die.

I guess my point I keep trying to rope back into is maybe the experience or place or people sound different, or magic, but it's superficial. It's no different than how stories of history or cities sound to some. Emotionally I think we run the same. I think the true beauty is in seeing that reality. That you can't be the best stuck in an unreality or hiding from finding your fit. And again the true charm of Due South and Fraser, is his going south grows himself to see it. The show gets us to play and have fun seeing it.

And that the best of people or place, Canada or States, small town or city, outsider or no...is accepting and acknowledging that difference and sameness is the way to grow. Is the best beauty.

It's how my community did grow out of most of it's struggles imo, and hopes to go further I tell ya.

So here are my recs on the wonder of difference and sameness in Due South. Again like the fic above, can't rec enough.

Here are a small sampler of finding yourself near and away.

Stars, I Have Seen Them Fall (squidge.org)

Smaller Gods - arrow (esteefee) - due South [Archive of Our Own]

Our Dancing Days - sdwolfpup - due South [Archive of Our Own]

Also, does anyone have a link to an old ds flashfic of Fraser wandering Chicago in a power outage? I loved that one.

#due south #due south meta #personal life i dont know how much to put in honestly #fic recs #fraser is example of you can emotionally or physically survive a place and enjoy or be accustomed to it's nature #but does that mean you fit it?#i think there is a pretty good argument his longing for emotional contentment beyond his isolation inside himself means no to the north #his lack of friends or family up there #his dad's and grandparents as well #and their lack of ability to give him emotional happiness or get him tied to the towns #even if it doesn't mean yes always to chicago either #which would have lots of overwhelming differences to see and grapple with and explore #also this hits what i think meg thatcher could have touched on as a character #as a canadian city woman trying to entice or grapple with fraser #a fun idea of othered but from your country to play with #benton fraser

18 notes · View notes

maaarshieee · 1 year

Note

Okay so: How about giving Wanderer, Pantalone, Dottore and Alhaitham flowers 👀

Pick some flowers for them. What's their reaction? Put them in their hair too. Make them a flower crown!

⎯⎯ ୨ Flowers For You! (HCs) ୧ ⎯⎯

ੈ♡˳ Alhaitham, Dottore, Pantalone & Wanderer x Gn!Reader *ೃ༄

ੈ♡˳ Masterlist *ೃ༄

author's note ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

THEY'RE INFESTING MY MIND RN,, THEY'RE ALL SKRUNKLIES,, ty for the request this is ... so soft... omg,,, FINALLY NEW BANNER FOR WANDERER BC OF THAT BDAY ART HEHEHE,, ok i might've had brain rotted too hard on pantalone esp bc the song "call out my name" came up from my playlist while writing him..... have a good day/night!! <33 oh! noticed were mutuals,, got an emoji for ur mutual tag ?? hehe,,

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ cw: canon typical violence, longer than i anticipated, injuries, made up flowers on wanderer's part

"What are you doing?"

"Decorating!" Was your only reply.

Inside the library that Alhaitham often resides in, with piles of books on his table, legs crossed as he read peacefully, you stood behind him, hands raking through his silky hair.

A while ago, you entered the library with a bright smile on your face, a bunch of flowers gathered in your arms. Alhaitham was pleased with your sudden visit, even if his outward appearance was of annoyance, choosing to 'ignore' your existence instead.

Huffing humorously at his attitude, you greeted him cheerfully, giving him a quick peck on the cheek (where he subtly leaned his body to the side to chase your lips for a longer kiss) before placing down the flowers you'd freshly picked from the forest during your forest ranger patrols.

You often brought him flowers after finishing your patrols, always dropping them wherever he was so he'd usually be walking home with a bouquet in his hands. He didn't particularly mind, in fact, he absolutely cherished them, especially when you always put so much thought and effort into them.

Each day you bring a new bouquet, they'd be bundled in different shades of green crepe paper, ribbons, and various designs you could think of, and you do it all by yourself. Even so far refusing opinions from others, pouring all your creativity and adoration for him into each bouquet. You even pick a diverse variation of flowers that would mix and match, then you would list off the meanings of each flower, its anatomy and the role plays in the ecosystem, basically info dumping him.

And each time, Alhaitham would close his book, leaving a bookmark on the page he was reading, and turn his head to you, listening to every word you say and even engaging in a deep conversation with you about biology. In each conversation, each discussion, he learns something new about plants, and he's able to bask in your loving presence, watching your hands fluidly move with your words, noticing the way the corners of your eyes crinkle from the big grin on your face. It's always the tiniest details that warm Alhaitham's heart.

But today was a little different, he supposes. As soon as you got close to where he sat, he took note that you hadn't brought him a bouquet this time, which earned you a raised brow from him. All you responded with was a small mischievous smirk on your lips as you put down the flowers you had gathered that day onto a chair next to him and got behind his back.

Alhaitham hadn't expected you to visit him that day since he had told you he'd be pretty busy, that's why he had a lot more books on his table than usual. And yet here you are, with a plan brewing inside your pretty little head that Alhaitham would just have to let himself fall victim to. It was distracting, sure, but it's you.

So he didn't tell you off and instead allowed you to bury your fingers into his hair, tenderly massaging his scalp and running your hands through his fluffy hair, softly humming a tune near his ear. Soon, you began to put flowers into his hair, playing with his hair and silently giggling behind him.

All the while Alhaitham immersed himself in the books he read, not minding your pestering one bit. As long as you didn't completely distract him from reading, he would let this (and many others things) slide.

From there, you compared Alhaitham to a cat, holding back a snort at the comparison. Whenever you pulled your hands away from his head, he would chase your touch subconsciously, yearning for more. When you still your hands in his hair, he would turn his head to look at you questioningly, an unimpressed glint in his eyes.

And while Alhaitham hasn't spoken a single word after the question he had asked a few moments ago, you could tell that he was enjoying this more than he could let on. His tense muscles had relaxed, leaning back on his chair and, from time to time, you'd catch his eyes flutter close before he'd blink to pull himself out of his sleepiness, he even had a small tugging at the corners of his lips.

He didn't make a move to take out the flowers you had put into his hair once he got up from his seat, returning the books from their respective shelves. Internally chuckling at the image of the blank-faced scribe walking around with flowers littered in his hair, you decided to play nice and reached up to his hair to remove them.

Only for your hands to be swatted away by Alhaitham and receive a halfhearted glare from your dearest lover.

It was quite endearing that Alhaitham did not give a care to anyone who saw him with a head full of flowers, and hair a little messy from all your playing and rubbing, but he ignored their stares, his eyes only focused on you as you walked side by side back to your shared home.

"Hey, Dottie," Hearing your voice from the doorway of his personal office, Dottore paid you no mind and continued to write on his whiteboard with a few other segments behind him. A few segments gave you a brief glance, before returning to the tasks they were assigned with. "Hey Dot, Dottie, Dotdot," You continued annoyingly, listing away all the nicknames you could think of at the top of your head, getting more absurd when you're slowly running out of ideas.

With a sigh, finally popped back the cap of his marker and turned to look at you, only to see you holding a bunch of baskets in your hands and... 2 of his segments holding similar baskets but with flower crowns on their heads. Truly, what a sight to see. You hailed all the way from a couple nations you had to stop by for your mission only to come back and immediately cause some shenanigans inside his laboratory.

Dottore couldn't help the sigh that escaped his lips once again as he started walking toward you, eyeing the flower baskets the 3 of you held that were filled to the brim with various flora he was quite familiar with. Letting you put down the baskets on a table, he turned his head to the 2 segments trailing behind your back with a scowl on his face. "You may leave," He orders, before adding. "And take those off."

To his surprise, they hesitated to follow his order, hands froze in midair as if they were contemplating whether to obey or not. Now that greatly irked the Doctor, seeing that 2 of his creations had the gall to not obey right away in front of him, only to be calmed down by you by putting a hand on his shoulder. "Oh c'mon, leave them be. They're just flower crowns, let them have it." You reasoned, gesturing to the 2 segments to move along while Dottore had his attention on you.

With a smirk taking over your features, your hands settled on your hips when you jerked your head in the direction of the baskets you had brought proudly. "Besides, I got you a lot more." Dottore narrowed his eyes at you, dismissing the other segments present inside his office more, taking a few steps closer to you, arms crossed. "What exactly are these?"

You passed a basket to him and he took it, observing the contents of it before widening his eyes slightly, hands now caressing the leaves and petals of the flora you've brought to him. "My recent mission had me running around Teyvat for a bit, so I grabbed everything I could." You explained, eyeing one corner of his office. It had pictures of flora he needed for his experiments, a definitive list of everything he wanted that are plant-based to set a project onward and help with his research. "Be it mythical, illegal, rarest of the rare, or the most expensive, nothing escaped me."

A big, maniacal grin soon blossomed on his face as he further examined the multiple baskets, small giggles emitting from him here and there. Satisfied at his reaction, you proudly crossed your arms and your smirk grew. "My my, whatever is the reason you've become so generous?"

With a mere shrug, you walked behind him, laying your chin on his shoulder as you watched him eagerly sort through the flora you'd given him. "Just wanted to further our research, is all," At that, his movements paused and his grin faltered, head turning to look at you. You blinked at him, before realizing what you'd just said.

"Well, also because I wanted to spoil my dearest partner." You tried to save yourself, though it was the actual truth. Dottore seemed to think your words over, before menacingly smiling at you. "Oh, so they get one of those and not me?" Was he serious? You stared at him incredulously. Well, you guess you couldn't blame him. You mistakenly had told him the gift you had prepared for him was simply for your experiments, not for him.

But you couldn't help it. You let out a small, breathless chuckle before digging your hands inside one of the baskets that held flora that isn't much required for your experiments and began to work for your hands. Dottore watched you while you twisted the stems of each flora, organizing the petals and making them look as pretty as you could, tying them up neatly.

Dottore had pursed his lips as he observed, his expression growing sour when he peeked outside of his office to see a majority of the segments outside had flower crowns on their heads. They all seemed to be containing the joy they had upon receiving a flower crown, while the unlucky ones that doesn't have any were sulking and glaring at the luckier segments.

It seemed to upset Dottore, even more, to see he's one of the unlucky ones, unintentionally beginning to sulk like the rest of them. You had to hold back your laughter when you saw a big frown on his face, eyeing angrily at his segments but you opted to explain yourself to avoid his wrath.

"I thought you'd be satisfied enough with all the stuff I got you, so I didn't make you a flower crown." You said, earning Dottore's attention once more as you kept adding the prettiest flowers you could get your hands on, "I'd imagine you wouldn't want others to see you with such things on you so..." Finalizing the flower crown you made just for him, you turned to face him once more, a sheepish smile on your lips.

"But I suppose I was wrong, making my lover feel jealous." Dottore scowled at your words, opening his mouth to deny it but you just shot him an amused look, presenting him with the flower crown. Compared to the ones you've made for the segments, you put a lot of thought into the flower crown you made for him. It wasn't as messy, considering that you were frequently on the run during your mission whilst you made them.

"I'm sorry my love... Is this enough to earn your forgiveness?" Gently placing the flower crown on his head, pulling back a strand of his hair behind his ear. You then gave him your best puppy eyes on him, knowing full well that it wouldn't work on him. Despite this face, you still liked doing it, putting your hands on his chest.

Dottore didn't speak, only cupping your cheek with his gloved hand. He didn't like the fact that he has a flower crown on his head, but he suppose that he could tolerate it just for you since you made it for him after all. Since it was an act of seeking forgiveness.

How thoughtful of his lover. To bring him so many important materials for his research and make him a flower crown. And you easily got the message that he had forgiven you when he pressed a small, fleeting kiss on your forehead.

The Regrator has it all. He is rich, very rich, so of course, he does. So you can't help but feel a tad insecure whenever you think about giving him something.

You? A mere adventurer who does commissions for a living and even often helps the people around you for free?

How do flowers you've picked while you were doing commissions in a different region compete with the literal huge gardens Pantalone has at the mansions he has all over Teyvat? Every time he brings you to one of his 'vacation homes', you always find yourself lost in the beautiful paradise of flora that he owns.

It's the thought that counts, you argue with yourself. While it's true, it doesn't stop you from hesitating whether to even give the bouquet you've prepared for your dearest lover. Maybe you shouldn't have if you were being honest. Pantalone, in your eyes, was the embodiment of elegance.

He was gorgeous; the smile that's always etched on his lips makes your palms sweat, especially when they're always so genuine whenever they're directed at you. Skin fair, face as refined as smoothed jade. His expression was a balanced mix of sharp frostiness and a polite gleam of warmth, both authoritative and welcoming.

Immaculate and pristine clothing could only be worn, from his coat, gloves, and even the material of his glasses; all were top quality and handmade by professionals amongst professionals. With each calculated step, his entire being is the epitome of wealth.

So who were you to sully the beauty he has with simple flowers that you've handpicked from the forests you've roamed in? Sure, you've cleaned them as much as you could, but giving him flowers that weren't grown in quality gardens- you'd be ruining his image!

Clutching the DIY bouquet you've organized the flowers in, you almost sank to your knees as you continued to mull over your decisions, sulking right in front of Pantalone's office door. It has been 20 minutes since you arrived and the guards stationed near his office have been pitifully glancing at your predicament.

Just as you were about to take a step back and throw the bouquet you'd made, deciding to just do more commissions and earn more mora (and not use the mora he kept giving you) to buy him something more presentable and pleasing to the eye, Pantalone opened the door.

You froze in your spot, but the grip on the bouquet you held tightened to the point it would've been broken. Pantalone was shocked to see you just standing motionlessly at his door, not expecting you to have you back so soon.

Immediately, Pantalone's expression softened and his smile widened. His shoulders relaxed and his body felt lighter just at the mere sight of you, and the feeling of laughter bubbling up his chest when he saw your stupefied face.

You fought the urge to bolt or throw the flowers in your hands to an unsuspecting guard and pretend as if nothing had happened. You stood your ground, no matter how hard your heart was beating against your ribcage when his eyes traveled down, catching sight of the bouquet.

Pantalone's face evidently brightened at the sight of it, the corners of his lips curving upwards. "For me?" He says in a fond tone as his hands reached for the bouquet, but you instinctively flinch back, surprising Pantalone. You quickly stuttered out; "I-I... yeah, yeah it is..." You learned your throat, averting your eyes from him and shamefully bowing down your head.

"But, well, you shouldn't take it. I just picked them in the forest when I was back in Sumeru because when I saw how pretty the flowers were, I thought about you... They're not high quality, so I can just buy you better ones—" You didn't even realize you'd begun rambling, so you were cut off abruptly when Pantalone took the bouquet from your arms anyways, caressing the petals with his gloved hands, his smile never leaving his handsome face.

Then, he gently grabbed your chin and lifted it up with his index finger and his thumb so you'd look at him eye to eye. Before you could say something, he captured your lips against his, tilting your head slightly to the side to deepen the kiss.

Heat exploded on your face, eyes widening at the sudden kiss but you indulge yourself in it nonetheless, kissing back fervently and clutching his coat shakily. You let out a small noise when Pantalone licked your bottom lip, satisfied at the delectable sight of your red face, before pulling away a little.

"I absolutely love them, my dear." He muttered against your skin, taking a step closer to you. "I'm delighted that even when you're out on your travels, you still think of me, so I will cherish these flowers you've given me, for they remind me of your love for me."

Those words sent chills up your spine, and you couldn't suppress the smile forming on your lips and the sigh of relief that escaped through your nose.

"Now, why don't you tell me more about these flowers?"

As a seasoned adventurer, you've equipped yourself with various knowledge of anything that could help you in your survival in the outside world. Perking up at his request, you eagerly nodded at that as the words spilled from your mouth whilst Pantalone led you inside his office, shutting the door close.

And thus the beginning of you always bringing him a fresh bouquet of flowers every time you come back from your commissions, then recounting your wide knowledge of flora to your lover.

And every time, Pantalone would listen intently, learning how to care for the flowers as per your instruction if it meant he could listen to your voice more with such enthusiasm, quell your feelings of inferiority in your relationship, and ignore his piling paperwork to spend more of his time with you.

The Wanderer never really understood the sentiment of giving flowers to your lover. So what if they gave you flora? They're just plants that look pretty and usually smelled good. It was a romantic gesture, others would say. It shows the thoughtfulness you had for your lover, it's why you'd gift them flowers! But would it still be counted as very thoughtful if it's such a common thing lovers do to one another?

He doesn't truly get it, so he had absolutely no idea how to react when you came back to the camp you set up for the night, a wild grin on your face with a bunch of cuts and bruises on your body, your hair one big mess and your clothes were torn and dirty, though you cradled a bunch of flowers in your arms protectively. Well, besides being concerned for your entire being and getting absolutely mad at your lacking self-preservation.

"Just what were you thinking, picking flowers near a Hilichurl Camp without your weapon!? Are you trying to get yourself killed!?" He scolded you whilst he cleaned your wounds, intentionally adding pressure enough to make you wince and hiss in pain to both stops the blow flowing out and punish you for your foolishness, deathly glaring at you.

But you merely had a sheepish smile on your lips as you watched your lover fuss over your wellbeing, wrapping you in bandages and scolding you like a mother whose child had run off to do whatever. To be fair, he had warned about the Hilichurl camp near yours, and that you both agreed to leave it be for now since it was late at night already, but when he told you to grab more firewood, you still went to the Hiluchurl camp unarmed all because some 'pretty flowers' caught your eyes.

Offering you a fresh set of clothing, he let you get dressed whilst he went back to cooking, eyeing the bundle of flowers you left near him. Just why did you get through all that trouble for a bunch of flowers? You can buy flowers at multiple flower shops all over Teyvat! He doesn't understand at all, grumpily huffing under his breath.

You told him that those flowers were for him, that it was worth the trouble. It took all of his willpower to not smack you with the wooden ladle he had in his hand, only gritting his teeth and glaring at you. But for some reason, you were extremely unbothered by your injuries, only apologizing to your partner for worrying him. You kept caressing the flowers with a big grin on your face, features softening as you admired them.

So, he had to ask. "Is there any other reason why you had to get these for me?" He crossed his arms, eyeing you warily. You never ceased to caress the damp petals of the flowers, only scooping them back in your arms and giving them to him.

"They remind me of you." At your answer, he raised a brow. How does a bunch of flowers remind you of me? "I read in a book once that these rare flowers symbolize new beginnings, a fresh new start, and hope." You started, sitting close to him and leaning your body against his, staring up at the night sky. "They grow in an unhealthy environment and start off like wilting little buds of flowers, but the more it grows, the more it blossoms into a beautiful flower."

Slowly, his eyes trailed down to the flowers in his arms, piecing them together bit by bit in his mind. He held the flowers closer to him as he continued to listen to your words. "In the midst of burnt forests, these flowers usually grow at the heart of the disaster, sprouting beauty in hapless surroundings." You finish with a sparkle in your eyes, now gazing at him fondly.

Trying to hide his expression with his hat, he merely responded with; "Hope and new beginnings truly fit this flower then." Though his voice was steady, the same couldn't be said the same with his body, which lightly trembled. Your hand found itself in his, lacing your fingers together. You were relieved that he didn't pull away from your hold, only squeezing your hand as he hugged the meaningful flowers in his arms.

These flowers greatly reminded you of him. Not only because of its appearance, but also what it symbolizes. You admired him as if he was the flowers that you picked near that Hilichurl camp, marveling at the beauty of his new life, the hope in his eyes, and his will to finally live without the strings that were attached to him.

The Wanderer may never get why other couples would give each other flowers; may never understand what's so sentimental about it, but he now knows why you chose to give him those flowers... And it meant quite a lot to him.

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