#romaricche

[katrine-fd]

Baking mishaps 🌹

Paring: Romarriche x Reader (no gender mention)

TDLR: You attempted to bake some cookies to gift to Romarriche as a thank you gift and they came out bad. (This isn’t totally because my own cookies melted and made me sad or anything).

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ:* ✧

Looking into the oven and seeing yet another attempt at baking wasted made you want to sob. Why did they always come out bad even with Romarriche’s advice? What did you keep messing up in the recipe? It could have been the lack of scale, forcing you to eyeball everything. Hopefully the My Melody Knight, Merold, wouldn't be at the palace.

You didn’t dislike Merold, you two were, at least, on friendly terms, possibly somewhat friends, but the My Melody knight was also a mischievous one enjoying to tease others (you had found out during one of your conversations over tea, that Merold had made the young Hello Kitty Knight, Hallritt, his new victim, and you could only pray for the young man). He always made fun of your mishaps as you tried over and over again to make some nice cookies to gift to Romarriche. The gentle man smiled and thanked you every time and, always, left out a soft chuckle saying he was appreciative of your gifts, no matter what, since the intention was more important.

That also started the annoying teasing from Merold, saying you had a crush on Romarriche and being the brat that he was, seemed to be testing you with implications, which, only you understood what they meant. You weren’t a violent person but Merold really stepped on that line. Where it almost made you wanna smack him to shut his mouth.

So when you arrived at the palace, the guards welcomed you in, telling you to find the dirty-blonde man in the gardens, as he was preparing to enjoy some tea after his work. He was quite easy to spot, as he set some treats on the table and a tea cup. The soft smell of roses filled your nose as he smiled at you.

“What a nice surprise to see you today.” His soft voiced had such a calming effect as he walked to meet you. Noticing that you were hiding something behind you, his head tilted to side a bit, curiosity evident in his eyes.

“A-ah! Good afternoon Romarriche! I hope I am not interrupting you!”

“Of course not. You are always welcome to visit. Although I hope you don’t mind me asking what it is that you have brought behind your back?”

Your heart skipped a bit as he leaned in somewhat closer, while still keeping a respectful distance, as the gentle knight always seemed respectful of people’s boundaries. With a sigh you present him with the new batch of failures.

“They came out bad again”

His expression moved from confusion to a gentle smile. He let out a soft chuckle. “Shall we move along to have some tea to taste the treats you have prepared?”

Pouting but nodding, you moved along sitting at the nice table in the middle of the garden, as he asked you to wait while getting another cup. Even if you told him he didn’t need to, he insisted and so, after so many attempts at not bothering him, you had given up.

After hearing his heels click on the ground of the garden he set up your cup, pouring out the tea for you to enjoy.

“Mmm it smells so nice”

He giggles out softly “I am glad you like it. Now let’s taste your cookies”

“Well they look more like a mess of crumbs”

“Now let’s not say that!”- as he took a piece and bit into it, he let out a small chuckle. “You have improved a lot since the last time! They are tasting better and better!”

With a groan and a hand covering your face, you embarrassingly tried to hide how such a simple compliment from him made you look like a silly teenager again being complimented by their crush. Your head could only remember Merold’s stupid teasing comments, like, how the color of your face competed with the roses of the garden.

“They are still coming out wrong thought! I just wanna give you something good!”

“They are good. They don’t need to be perfect, as long as you put your heart onto it”

“But I want to make them perfect!”

He smiled, hand softly patting your head. “You just have to keep trying, and while you do, feel free to come over and enjoy some tea. I am always happy to have you over”.

“Well your tea and treats are always tasty”

He giggled once again “I am glad you think so! Feel free to come taste them as much as you’d like”

Even if you yourself didn't think the cookies were that great, you felt extremely happy seeing Romarriche eat them alongside the warm tea. You knew he would never tell you your stuff was bad but, even then it made you happy when he complimented you.

You were happy to simply enjoy these quiet afternoons, drinking tea, eating treats, amidst the rose garden with the prettiest and most gentle knight you could ever know.

[aquamarixx]

read some of your latest event fics and loved them! can I request romarriche with the concept of blooming roses (to hopefully match new beginnings theme) fluff! sorry if my english is weird!

among rose blossoms

the blooming roses under the golden hour will be the witness of you and Romarriche’s unspoken feelings that definitely won’t go unnoticed. 

‎‧₊˚✧ TURNING POINT 2025 ENTRY ✧˚₊‧ pairing romarriche x reader word count 2.3k words tags sort of longtime friends, mutual pining, fluff, gn! reader (but i do love thinking how it's a female guard who's rough around the edges matching romarriche's gentleness), anyway we love romarriche in this household navigation

The scent of blooming roses hung heavy in the air as you walked through the castle’s corridors. You had always thought it strange how their fragrance lingered even in the heart of winter.

Perhaps it was because Romarriche, the Knight of Fragaria, made sure his beloved Marroncream’s gardens flourished year-round. The thought of him—graceful yet strong, endlessly kind yet burdened by his duties—was enough to draw a small, involuntary smile to your lips.

Your steps echoed as you approached his quarters. A quiet knock, followed by his soft voice bidding you enter, brought you into a space that was entirely, unmistakably him.

The room was filled with delicate touches: embroidered pillows, neatly arranged tools for sewing, and a vase of freshly cut roses on his desk. He looked up from the cloak he was mending, his brown eyes lighting up as they met yours.

“Ah, my dearest guard,” Romarriche said with a kind smile, his voice as soft as silk. “Come to whisk me away from my duties?”

“If only I could,” you replied gruffly, though the warmth in his gaze made your heart stutter. “You shouldn’t be doing that, though. Isn’t there someone else who could mend that?”

He chuckled, setting the cloak aside. “If I let others do all the work, what kind of knight would I be?” Rising gracefully, he crossed the room toward you. “Besides, I quite enjoy it. Just as I enjoy… this.”

You blinked, feeling heat rise to your cheeks as he adjusted the scarf he’d made for you weeks ago. The soft fabric was impossibly warm, and you knew it had taken hours of meticulous work. His fingers lingered, brushing against your skin for a moment too long before he stepped back with a satisfied smile.

Today was your day off and Romarriche has asked you to accompany him for the day. You found yourself standing near the castle gates, unarmed and dressed in civilian clothes. The scarf Romarriche had given you was wrapped snugly around your neck, its warmth a welcome comfort against the cool breeze. When he appeared, wearing a simple yet elegant coat, his smile was brighter than the morning sun.

“You’re wearing it,” he said, his tone pleased as he reached out to adjust the scarf again. His fingers lingered briefly, and you caught the faint scent of roses clinging to him. “It suits you.”

The walk through downtown was lively, filled with the chatter of townsfolk and the bustling energy of the market. Romarriche’s presence was magnetic. People stopped to greet him, their eyes filled with admiration and gratitude.

You watched as he spoke with each person—listening intently, offering kind words, and ensuring that no concern went unnoticed. It was in these moments that you were reminded of his strength, not just as a knight but as a leader.

After hours of walking and chatting, you began the journey back to the castle. The setting sun bathed the town in a warm, golden glow, but Romarriche’s steps faltered near the gardens.

“You must see the roses,” he said, as he pulls you by the hand. “They’re in full bloom, and I don’t want you to miss them.”

He led you to a secluded section of the garden where red roses stretched as far as the eye could see, their petals illuminated by the golden hour light. You couldn’t help but marvel at the beauty of it, though your attention quickly shifted to him. He seemed lighter here, his usual composed demeanor softening as he spoke of his duties and his hopes for lasting peace.

Ever since he was appointed as Marroncream’s Knight, you’ve been a guard at the castle. You’ve seen him grow into the role and despite his soft motherly energy, there’s this strength behind him. While others admired Romarriche as the soft-spoken Knight of Fragaria, you had the privilege of seeing his strength underneath in everything he does. 

That’ why you’ve admired him. For so long. And you’ve vowed yourself not only to serve Marroncream but also to be a shoulder Romarriche can lean on. Because who else would the knight have, if not his most loyal guard?

“You’re doing a remarkable job,” you blurted out of nowhere, your voice firm but sincere. “You’re strong and resilient, Romarriche, but even a knight needs someone to lean on. Whatever happens, I’ll be by your side. To fight for you. To protect you.”

His eyes widened, and for a moment, he seemed at a loss for words. Then his expression softened, a rare vulnerability breaking through his calm facade.

“How lucky I am to have you,” he murmured. “One day, when peace finally comes, I hope you’ll accompany me to see the Red Continent. Together.”

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. You don’t know what lies behind his offer but for you, there’s a silent acknowledgement of the feelings you guys have for each other. “I’d like that.”

As the sun began to set, you noticed the faint lines of exhaustion on his face. Before he could dismiss you, you gently brought his head to rest on your shoulder.

“Just for a moment,” you said quietly. “Close your eyes. Take a breather.”

To your surprise, he did as you asked. His weight against you was comforting, and as his breathing evened out, you felt a pang of protectiveness unlike any you’d ever known. When Merold appeared, his gaze fell on the two of you, but he said nothing. Instead, he smiled and retreated, leaving you and Romarriche in peace.

You pressed a soft kiss to the crown of his head, the gesture as fleeting as the golden light fading from the sky. One day, you thought. One day you’d tell him how you felt. But for now, it was enough to stay by his side, to be his shield and his solace, as he worked toward a brighter tomorrow.

“It’s okay to let your guard down sometimes,” you whispered. “We’ll face the new day together.”

amari's notes: hi anon! it took a while for me to get this out, i wasn't confident if i wrote him well. but i hope i was about to do him justice. i love the blooming roses concept and it felt so fitting to pair romarriche's softness with a guard! reader who's has a good "opposites attract" kinda dynamic hehe if you get what i mean i did enjoy writing this and it makes me so happy to write more about fragaria memories in the future! anyway, I’d love to hear your thoughts, so feel free to leave a reply or drop an ask or even a request! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

[merryfortune]

Lovelocks

Title: Lovelocks

Ship: Merold/Romaricche

Fandom: Fragaria Memories

Word Count: 1,334

Rating: T

Warning: None

Tags: Fluff, Childhood Friends, Crushes, Unrequited Pining, Pampering

   Merold yawned nostalgically as he appreciated having Romaricche run his hands through his curls and brush out his hair. Romaricche was gentle and attentive. There was tenderness in his fingertips as he went section by section through Merold’s hair.

   Romaricche was good at it. He was good at all kinds of domestic things and homemaking, self care, and Merold was spoiled by such favours from where Romaricche dabbled. Merold shuddered as he was pampered by Romaricche. The bristles on the brush were soft and yet glided through his hair which was full of kinks and curls with ease. 

   “I remember…” Merold mused aloud. “When we were kids… Your hair was much shorter.” 

   “Mm, it was about your length, actually.” Romaricche said. “Although, dead straight.”

   Merold laughed. That was true.

   Romaricche could see it very clearly in his mind’s eye, how they looked when they were little. He had been an introverted young boy once upon a time with a tragic bowl cut. Merold had always been more aloof and good-looking. In their opposites, they had found contrast thus they made a pair then and still very much now: the shy child and the outgoing child, the polite child and the wild child, the bookworm and the activity seeker. It was nice to reminisce now and then.

   “So, why did you grow your hair out?” Merold asked as he another stroke of Romaricche’s hairbrush went through his own fluffy mop. 

   “I liked the way it looks on other people so I thought I would grow it out.” Romaricche replied. “I think it's more knightly.”

   Merold hummed. He sounded unconvinced. Romaricche didn’t mind. It was an unconvincing reply and he knew it. 

   After all, Romaricche had his more private reasons for growing out his hair and it's not that he did not trust Merold with them, nor want him to know, it just trod a little too deep in places that Romaricche did not dare to tread. He didn’t want to ruin what he had with his longest and dearest companion. Adding into the layers of the years they had enjoyed together, romantic feelings could complicate.

   They could sour.

   They could fragment relationships beyond the present and into the past.

   The thought of that happening to them frightened Romaricche so 

 would much rather prefer to keep things as they were. Traditional. He was just like his elders and their precious quilts in that way. 

   Afternoons such as these were simply far too precious to Romaricche to complicate. The flavour of their raspberry and ceylon tea, the tortes with thick, vanilla cream, and the ease of conversation all hued in goldenrod and maple foliage. Romaricche would not trade them for the world as he enjoyed them, and Merold, far too much.

   “I guess so.” Merold sighed. “Like the knights in your books that you would read as kids. I recall, what was his name? He had long hair.”

   Romaricche chuckled, “Lancelot?” 

   “Ah! Yes! Him.” Merold replied, his voice tinged with the satisfaction of eureka.

   “I’m surprised you remember.” Romaricche said. Another stroke of the brush through Merold’s hair, he divided it a little more.

   “I remember thinking they were dumb.” Merold teased.

   Romaricche’s lips twinged. Mostly as a smile, mostly not trying to laugh again as that made sense to Merold’s character. His hands twitched as he held onto the wooden handle of his hairbrush just a little too tight for what the moment called for.  

   All because now, there was a pang in his chest, a small wound akin to a papercut, because Lancelot had devoted himself to Arthur and to demonstrate his love, he grew out his hair and wore it over his shoulder. 

   The book had called it a lovelock and Romaricche called it an inspiration.

   Romaricche felt that way unto Merold. Devotion. Something he could not touch but could certainly abide by. Merold took his love unto his Lord seriously and he need not ask for love for anyone but her. So long as My Melody was content, as was Merold. 

   Attaining My Melody’s accolade had been Merold’s dream since he was young. If it were not for meeting Merold, Romaricche was uncertain as to what his own dream would have been. He had read the stories of triumph and camaraderie and they were resonated well enough for Romaricche but not in the way that Merold’s stories of how he projected his future to look did.

   Romaricche wanted to see it. He wanted to see Merold make his dreams come true, so he decided that he would turn his gaze upon the Lord of his own homeland and attain her Accolade. That made them brothers in arms, just like Romaricche’s books but Merold didn’t see knighthood as a communal experience. To him, it was just himself and his lord. All else was collateral, irrelevant.

   That included even Romaricche, his brother… It was bittersweet but Romaricche understood. Particularly now that he was thorned by chivalry in much the same way. To become a Fragarian, it was lonely in that they would pledge their love to their lord and now only their lord could love them. That love was their only payment for their duties as knights. 

   Yet Romaricche was not inhuman. He still had his emotions, his feelings, his thoughts and prayers, his wishes. They might not be grounded in his reality but he still felt that way. He still loved Merold, even though he knew that loving him would complicate things and create fraught situations not only for himself but Merold, too.

   And so, to do something with his feelings, Romaricche grew out his hair. He kept it shiny and smooth with a brown hair tie to complete the look and posed it over his shoulder.

   Of course, Lancelot had braided his hair. Romaricche was content with a sleek ponytail to rest over his breast. He did not want to be too conspicuous about his feelings. Especially if they were unrequited. Merold was not fettered by too many matters of the heart. For better or for worse.

   Merold turned his head slightly, “Are you done?” he asked as he blinked owlishly. “You stopped, is all.”

   “Ah, oops. Got lost in my thoughts.” Romaricche replied.

   “That’s okay.” Merold said.

   Romaricche continued to brush Merold’s hair. It was already looking a lot more tame due to Romaricche’s attention. His artfully wild curls and strands were now arranged more straightly and in a way which made sense to the whorl at the back of his head.

   “Thank you.” Merold purred.

   “You're welcome.” Romaricche replied. 

   Merold reached for his cup of tea and had a sip from it. Romaricche caught the whiff of its delicious, raspberry aroma and Merold sighed. Out the corner of his eye, he looked at Romaricche.

   “Maybe when you're done,” Merold teased, “I should brush your hair. Quid pro quo and all that.”

   “How kind of you to offer,” Romaricche replied, his fingers twitched once more, it's not as though Merold would be able to detect his feelings through the strands of his hair grown long for him and yet, Romaricche denied the offer, “but it's not necessary, Merold.”

   “If you say so.” Merold shrugged.

   Romaricche chuckled, “Sit still, I’m almost done.” He pulled back his brush as though to convey the pout that he had on his face to Merold.

   “Sorry, sorry.” Merold giggled. Though, that only jostled him some more but Romaricche found it endearing despite the prior admonishment.

   Romaricche smiled. Genuinely. Merold settled again and Romaricche resumed his brushing of Merold’s hair but it was obvious to him, Merold knew that Romaricche had been taking his sweet time so he could savour the touch of Merold. His soft hair, his slender neck, and so on and so forth. He truly did enjoy these moments in time where it was just the two of them in his garden, spending quality time together. Romaricche wouldn’t do a thing to risk them, not even tell Merold how much it all meant to him.