𝙼𝚢 𝙵𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚎𝚛'𝚜 𝙸𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚛 𝚃𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜: 𝚃𝚑𝚎

Here's a random headcanon for my future character in Fields of Mistria

It has been mentioned in the game that before your farmer moved to Mistria, they were also a member of the Adventurer's Guild. (I believe) Then what if, your main character in Fields of Mistria used to live in Stardew Valley until something significant occurred that took a toll on them.

One day, Marlon received news from one of his old adventurer friends in the Capital about a request for help from Mistria. Recognizing that his comrade and student needed a change of scenery, he informed your MC about the opportunity of a new farmland in exchange to assist the town. After a lot of thinking, the MC (soon-to-be mc in FOM) decided to start anew, bidding farewell to their cousin, the MC of Stardew Valley, before relocating to Mistria.

A/N: After experiencing the Immersive Sam mod by @maggplays, I was inspired to write a fanfic based on one of its cutscenes. Enjoy!

Sam was nervously pacing near the beach tide pools, his fingers tapping anxiously against the body of his guitar. In his chest, his heart beat a frantic rhythm, filled with anticipation and a mix of excitement and trepidation. Today was the day he had decided to confess his true feelings to someone special, the farmer who had recently moved in, Yvonne.

Under the soft morning sunlight, the waves gently lapped against the shore. The beach tide pools glimmered enticingly, their azure depths reflecting the cloudless sky. It was a tranquil and beautiful scene, the perfect backdrop for a moment of heartfelt confession.

He was drawn to Yvonne's genuine kindness, her warm smile, and her easy way of connecting with people. Over the past weeks, they had spent a lot of time together, working in the community center project, exploring the town, and sharing stories about their lives. All the while, Sam's feelings for her had grown stronger, and he knew it was time to take a chance and confess his love.

Summoning his courage, he had asked Yvonne to meet him at the beach tide pools in the morning, promising her something special. Now, as he waited for her to arrive, his mind raced with the possible outcomes of his confession, from the joyous and positive to the painful and rejection.

Finally, he spotted Yvonne walking towards him, her soft blond hair swaying gently with the breeze. Her presence eased his nerves and yet, his heart skipped a beat as she got closer. They exchanged a few words, a mixture of pleasantries and friendly banter, as she settled down on the huge wooden log he had chosen as their meeting spot.

Sam took a deep breath, steadying himself as he began to strum his guitar carefully starting with a familiar melody, one that he knew Yvonne liked. The sound of the guitar strings vibrated through the air, carrying the first notes of his confession.

As the music played, Sam couldn't help but glance at Yvonne. Her expression was soft and attentive, her eyes fixed on him as he continued to play. He wanted to tell her how much she meant to him, how her laughter and kindness brought color to his life, and how he couldn't imagine a day without her in it.

The melody changed, the chords shifting into a more romantic tune, as Sam prepared himself to sing the lyrics he had carefully written. He had poured his heart into those words, expressing his deepest feelings for her.

Taking a deep breath, Sam began to sing, his voice both trembling and clear as he started the first verse. The words poured out, a declaration of his admiration and love for Yvonne. The lyrics painted a picture of his desires, his dreams, and his hope that she might feel the same way.

Yvonne listened quietly, her eyes never leaving his face. Her expression remained unchanged, but her slight smile and the gentle tilt of her head showed that she was paying close attention to his every word.

Sam's voice grew more confident as he continued to sing. He sang of the adventures they had shared, the moments they had laughed and cried together, and the deep connection he felt with her. His fingers moved with increasing skill on the guitar, the music complementing the heartfelt lyrics.

As the song slowly came to an end, Sam held the final note for a few moments longer, savoring the sound of his confession. He let the last word linger in the air, waiting for Yvonne's response.

Silence fell over the beach tide pools. The waves continued to lap against the shore, the only sound breaking the quiet. Sam looked at Yvonne, his heart in his throat, waiting for her reaction.

Yvonne's eyes remained on him, her expression still soft and kind. For a moment, she didn't react, just gazing at him with a gentle smile. Then, she slowly stood up and took a step closer to him.

Her hand reached up to gently caress his cheek, her touch warm and soothing. Sam's breath hitched, and he almost missed the soft murmur that escaped her lips.

"Sam..." she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper. The sound of his name on her lips sent a shiver down his spine. She leaned in slightly, her face just inches away from his.

Her eyes, deep and sparkling, looked into his, and just as he thought he'd faint from the tension, she smiled wider and did something Sam never expected. She leaned forward and pressed a gentle, tender kiss on his lips.

Time seemed to freeze in that moment. Sam's mind went blank, his heart skipped a beat, and all he could focus on was the feeling of her lips on his. He didn't know what to do, unsure if this was just a response or a sign of her reciprocation.

Just as he was about to react, Yvonne pulled back a soft flush of color on her cheeks. She looked at him, her eyes sparkling with warmth and affection. "Thank you." she said quietly, her voice trembling slightly. "For that wonderful song and showing me your true feelings."

Her words sent a wave of relief and joy through him. The uncertainty and anxiety that he had felt a moment ago gave way to a new sense of hope and understanding. He couldn't help but smile, feeling his heart swell with happiness.

"I take it." he said, his voice a little shaky, "You feel the same way?"

Yvonne nodded, her smile growing even wider. "I do." she confessed. "Your song was beautiful, and I... I feel the same."

Sam couldn't believe his ears. His confession had not only been accepted but reciprocated. He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, a wave of pure elation spreading through him. He set aside his guitar and reached for her, pulling her into a tight embrace.

She leaned into him, her arms wrapping around his neck. They stood there by the beach tide pools, holding each other tight, the only sound being the soft whisper of the waves and their own beating hearts.

"I was so afraid you wouldn't feel the same." Sam whispered, burying his face in her hair. He could smell the honey and lavender scent, and it brought an even greater sense of comfort and contentment.

Yvonne chuckled softly, her breath tickling his neck. "I was just as scared." she admitted. "I never thought you'd see me that way."

"How could I not?" Sam pulled back slightly so he could look at her. "You're the kindest, most genuine person I've ever met. Spending time with you feels like coming home."

"I feel the same." Yvonne echoed, her eyes sparkling. "You bring so much laughter and joy into my life. I can't imagine my days without you by my side."

The sun slowly rose higher in the sky, casting a warm golden glow over the beach. Yvonne and Sam, still holding each other, watched the waves lapping against the shore, feeling as if the world was a more beautiful place now that they had confessed their love.

Together, they knew that the road ahead would be filled with both joy and challenges. But as long as they had each other, nothing seemed impossible. The love they shared was like a powerful force, guiding them through any storm.

As they walked hand in hand towards the future, they knew that their lives would never be the same again.

~END~

Here are some screenshots related to this cutscene:

Mod: "Maggs Immersive Sam Romance Dialogue and Events (x)Spicy or Sweet 1.6" by Maggplays

"The great power of C.H.E.A.T."

The next story is about May (@poxy-domain OC farmer) teaching Julian how to use a secret magic only available to the farmers of the Stardew Valley :D Humour, crack and a bit of breaking the fourth wall. Heh 😀

**********************************************

"All treasures will be yours. The most delicious meals that even rich brats from Amethyne rarely have will be on your dinner table. Forgotten blades and rings. You will have power over men. You'll have everything - you'll get anything you want, you'll be able to go anywhere you want!"

Julian had been listening to May's story for half an hour, when she had decided to tell him about a forbidden magic that was not known to humans, elves, dwarves, or shadow people. Both of his gem-coloured eyes - the left the colour of aquamarine, the right like a pure emerald - looked at the girl who stood on the wooden crate and told him the secrets, gesticulating vigorously. Julian listened to May's every word, intrigued, fascinated, he couldn't take his eyes off her.

"Fascinating.... And what is the name of this spell?" The blond-haired boy asked a little more quietly. The girl looked at him and smiled enigmatically, she was obviously waiting for her friend to ask this question.

"C.H.E.A.T." May answered loudly and proudly.

"Huh? Cheat?" He asked.

"No, not cheat, but C.H.E.A.T. Did you get that?" May spelled it.

The young man was already bouncing slightly with impatience. What does that mean? Forgotten magic? Even Magnus doesn't know about it?

He asked again:

"What this stand for?"

"Hell if I know." The dark-haired farmer jumped down from the box and rubbed her palms together in anticipation. "Shall we get started?"

"Wait-wait-wait!" Julian rambled on. "Shouldn't we prepare before we cast a spell?"

May laughed good-naturedly at the panicked notes in her friend's voice.

"No, silly. This magic, this ability to cast this spells, has already been in every farmer since the beginning of our arrival in the Valley.... In me," She pointed a finger at herself. "In you," The finger was now pointed at Julian. "You'll understand the first time you try it. All we need to do it's focus on the object you want and say "debug command". I'll show you."

Julian nodded to his friend, and took two steps back, giving her space to demonstrate.

May closed her eyes and brought her two palms together again. A stream of magical energy formed around her and swirled around the girl like the wind swirling autumn leaves. Unbeknownst to him, symbols formed above her head, the girl uttered monotonously.

"Debug.... Command..."

In an instant, several large purple chests formed near May's feet, which were completely stuffed with treasures, gold and precious stones. The magic flow disappeared, the girl opened her eyes and smiled triumphantly when she saw Julian's surprised face.

"Wow!" the young man uttered, seeing May proudly step over the golden slides to approach him.

"See? Now it's your turn."

Julian nodded, closed his eyes, and tried to focus on his thoughts. Slowly, a similar magical flow surrounded him, just as it had surrounded May a few minutes ago.

"Debug... Command!"

In one moment, a large tied bag immediately formed at Julian's feet. He bent down to the bag on the ground and carefully untied it, still not fully believing that it was a real object and not an illusion. May wondered what Julian had conjured up for himself. A dozen prismatic shards, as beautiful as the sky, fell to the ground from the untied bag. Julian's pupils dilated at the sight of the beautiful shiny stones.

"Good. Very good," like a proud teacher who rejoices in the success of her talented student, May gave her verdict and patted her friend on the shoulder.

"You need to know that, in addition to conjuring items, we can also move to any place we want," The dark-haired girl stood next to Julian. "Don't go far, I'm about to read the spell."

Julian did not move, waited patiently and watched as his friend and fellow farmer read the spell again.

There was a flash of energy, for a moment there was nothing but darkness in front of his eyes, and in another moment, they were standing on a sandy beach.

"So, this is Ginger Island," May began to shake the sand off her shoes while Julian, as if struck by lightning, stared mesmerised at the crystal clear sea water. So clear that it was easy to see all the fish and other sea life!

"Okay, let's move to another place," Once again, May read a spell, after which they both found themselves on top of a volcano. The heat from the lava was so unbearable that even the air was burning hot. It was a little difficult to breathe.

No sooner had the blond-haired young man commented on the place itself or the strange forge than a figure formed behind them. A tall beautiful man, with pink hair and a blue cloak. The man opened his mouth and wanted to say something, but upon seeing the two people, he immediately closed his mouth again. Apparently, he didn't expect to see strangers here.

Julian waved his hand at the mysterious man while May cast the spell again.

"Okay, too early for us to meet him yet. Let's move on."

After another teleportation, Julian realised that this time he and May were in the middle of a sandstorm. Sand was flying in their faces, nothing could be seen.

"If I pronounced the coordinates correctly, we're now in the Crimson Baldlans. At least, according to Wiki," May tried her best to shout over the howling wind to get her words across to Julian standing next to her. Admittedly, the girl quickly regretted it when sand got into her mouth.

"Who's Wiki?," Julian didn't know if May had heard his question or not because of this blasted storm.

"Ugh! That bloody sand!" The girl, cursing, began to read the spell again. A second later, they found themselves on top of a wall that was in the same wasteland.

"Well, at least here there wouldn't be sand flying into their eyes". She sighed. "So what did you tell-"

"What in the name of Yoba is going on here!?" May didn't have time to finish before she was interrupted by the shocked voice of the woman, who stood there looking at the two strangers as if they were aliens. Julian and May were stared at, in addition to the archer, by several other pairs of similarly surprised eyes from beneath their brown hoods.

"Invaders!", The man with the scarred face drew his sword, preparing to attack the poor farmers. The girl with the bow and the others also bared their weapons, someone even started reciting magic spells. Realising that the two self-taught mages were in trouble, May quickly grabbed Julian's hand and read the spell, already for the last time.

Poof! And they were back on the peaceful and tranquil farm again.

"Phew, that was close..." The girl sighed tiredly. "I think that's enough magic lessons for today."

Smiling at Julian, who was still in a state of shock, May let go of his hand.

"So, do you want to learn more C.H.E.A.T. magic?"

Julian slowly turned to face his friend, and nodded just as slowly. The adventure had scared him a little, but his curiosity and boyish desire for fun were greater than his fear. May smiled radiantly, already anticipating the mischief they both would cause for the Valley's residents.

Summary: Cerise jumps to the worst conclusion, unleashes fury, then realizes her mistake while Jio quietly revels in the chaos.

The farmhouse stood quiet in the late afternoon glow, bathed in soft amber light. A faint breeze stirred the curtains, carrying with it the distant hum of the forest. The stillness was only broken by the slow creak of the front door as Lance pushed it open, supporting Rosemary with one arm.

“Easy...” he murmured, glancing down at her. His obsidian purple eyes softened with concern.

“Tch. I’m fine.” Rosemary grumbled, though her pale features said otherwise. One hand pressed against her side, a dark stain seeping through her shirt. Her rose-red hair, usually vibrant, clung to her cheek with sweat.

“You took a hit from Apophis. You’re not fine.” Lance’s tone left no room for argument. He tightened his hold when she stumbled. “Come on, your room’s closer. You’ll be more comfortable there.”

Rosemary scowled but didn’t protest. The journey back from the Crimson Badlands had been rough. The encounter with Apophis had left her winded, the creature’s strike tearing through her defenses and leaving a gash along her hip. If Lance hadn’t been there... she shook the thought away.

As they entered the farmhouse, Rosemary glanced around. The place was quiet. Too quiet.

“Huh. Cerise isn’t here?” she muttered, wincing as she lowered herself onto the bed in her room.

“She must’ve gone out.” Lance said, fetching a roll of bandages and a bowl of water from the washstand. “We’ll get you patched up before she’s back.”

Rosemary lay back with a groan. “Just hurry up. I want to sleep after this.”

Lance knelt beside her, his hands deft but gentle. “Try not to move. This might sting.”

Meanwhile, outside the farmhouse...

The front door clicked open. Cerise stepped inside, brushing a strand of beige blond hair from her face. Her twilight-hued eyes swept the room, noting the faint scuffs on the floor, a sign of recent arrival.

“Rosie?” she called out.

A faint voice answered from down the hall.

“Hey, Sis! I’m here! Lance’s with me!”

Cerise raised a brow, slipping off her bonnet. So they’re back. A faint smile tugged at her lips. “Lance, you staying for dinner?”

“If it’s not too much trouble, then I accept. Thank you, Cerise.” came Lance's muffled reply.

Before Cerise could respond, the door behind her creaked. She turned and her expression softened immediately.

“Jio.”

The brooding figure stepped in, his dark attire blending with the farmhouse shadows. His green eyes held their usual quiet intensity, but his expression softened when he saw her. Without a word, he closed the distance, wrapping his arms around her waist with practiced ease.

“I missed you.” he murmured, voice low and warm.

Cerise chuckled, resting a hand on his chest. “You've literally seen me four hours ago.”

“Four hours is too long.”

A rare smile played at Cerise’s lips. “You're impossible.”

“I know.”

Their quiet moment lingered until Jio glanced toward the kitchen. “Need help with dinner?”

Cerise’s expression brightened. “I’d love that.”

An Hour Later...

The scent of a warm meal filled the farmhouse. The table was set. Cerise wiped her hands on a cloth, glancing at Jio, who was placing the last dish.

“I’ll get them.” she said, moving toward Rosemary’s room.

With her usual composed demeanor, she knocked on the door, voice calm but firm.

“Rosie. Lance. Dinner’s ready. If you don’t come out now, it’s going to get cold.”

Inside, Lance’s focused voice responded, “Hold still. I know what I’m doing.”

Rosemary’s sharp retort followed, “Easy for you to say! Just hurry up and finish already!”

Cerise paused. What?

Her brows furrowed as she leaned in.

“Ah—OW! Lance, gentle!”

“You could have told me it hurt there. I’m not a mind reader.”

Cerise’s eyes narrowed, suspicion prickling at the edges of her calm.

...The hell?

“I’ll do it myself!”, Rosemary snapped.

“Absolutely not." Lance said firmly. “You’ll mess it up. Lie down.”

Cerise froze. Her expression darkened.

Lie down?

“I still want to breathe when you’re done!” Rosemary growled.

“Relax. I’ve done this plenty of times. Trust me.” Lance’s teasing tone followed.

Cerise’s entire body stiffened.

“…What the actual—”

“Move your legs to the side. It’s hard to reach from this angle.” Lance murmured.

“Ugh… Fine. Just get in between—”

BAM!

The door SLAMMED open.

Cerise stood there, deadly aura radiating from her, twilight eyes sharp as blades.

“WHAT. THE. HELL. ARE YOU DOING TO MY SISTER, YOU—”

The room fell silent.

Lance blinked, still holding a roll of bandages. Rosemary sat on the bed, skirt slightly lifted to reveal the fresh bandage along her injured hip.

“…Cerise?”, Lance said slowly.

Rosemary tilted her head, confusion written all over her face. “Sis? Uh… you good?”

Cerise’s expression shifted from cold fury to blank realization. A faint blush touched her cheeks.

“…Oh.”

Without another word, she shut the door with a swift snap.

“Never mind. Dinner’s ready. Be out in five.”

Back in the Kitchen...

Jio glanced up from the plates, eyes narrowing slightly. “Everything alright?”

Cerise, face a mask of calm composure, poured herself tea. “Nope.”

Jio studied her for a moment. The corners of his mouth twitched. “You thought they were...?”

“Don’t.” Cerise’s voice remained flat, but the faintest flush on her cheeks betrayed her.

Jio let out a low chuckle. “You’re more overprotective than I thought.”

“Shut up.”

Meanwhile, in Rosemary’s Room...

Rosemary stared at the closed door. “What the hell was that about?”

Lance secured the final knot in the bandage, glancing at her with a teasing smile.

“Maybe she thought you were dying in here with all that noise.”

Rosemary groaned, flopping back onto the bed. “More like she thought you were killing me.”

Lance chuckled, brushing the strands from her face. “Her overprotectiveness is admirable. But I’ll have to work harder to prove I can handle you properly.”

Rosemary glared at him, cheeks flushing.

“Tch. Shut up.”

Later That Evening...

The air in the farmhouse kitchen had settled into a calm warmth as dinner finally commenced. The aroma of Cerise’s cooking filled the room, and soft clinks of cutlery echoed against the wooden walls. Rosemary sat at the table, pale but composed, her side wrapped in fresh bandages. Lance sat beside her, his movements calm and measured, occasionally glancing at her with quiet concern.

Cerise sat opposite them, maintaining her usual composed expression, though her eyes flicked to Lance every now and then—narrow, warning. Lance, for his part, met those looks with a steady gaze, though the tension in his shoulders suggested he felt the weight behind them.

Jio sat next to Cerise, his posture relaxed, arms folded across his chest as he watched the others eat. Every so often, he would glance at Cerise, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. The memory of what he’d overheard from the hallway still lingered.

Cerise, however, kept her face stoic. She reached for her cup of tea, raising it with practiced calm.

But then, Jio leaned closer, lowering his voice so only Cerise could hear, his smirk deepening.

“Quite the scene you made earlier.”

Cerise froze, the cup halting just before her lips. Slowly, she turned her head, her twilight-hued eyes narrowing with a sharp glint.

Jio’s shoulders trembled slightly—slightly—as if he were struggling to contain his amusement.

And that was all it took.

Jio stiffened, the smirk faltering as sharp pain flared in his thigh. Cerise’s hand, deceptively delicate in appearance, had clamped down with surprising strength beneath the table. Her nails pressed just enough to make her point without drawing attention.

Jio inhaled sharply through his nose, glancing down before giving Cerise a sideways look. But she only sipped her tea with perfect composure, not even glancing in his direction.

Lance and Rosemary continued eating in silence, pretending not to notice the exchange.

Jio exhaled a slow breath, a begrudging chuckle escaping. “Noted.”

The moment passed, leaving the room quiet again—at least for a while.

Then Cerise lowered her cup, eyes sharpening as she turned her gaze toward Rosemary.

“Now then.” she began, her tone calm but carrying an unmistakable edge. “Mind explaining to me why you’re injured, Rose?”

Rosemary, who had been focused on her food, stiffened.

“Uh...", She glanced at Lance briefly, hoping for some backup, but when she noticed the pointed stare Cerise was giving her, a bead of sweat rolled down her temple.

“Well, you see—”

“Rosemary.” Cerise’s voice dropped a note lower.

Rosemary groaned, slumping forward slightly but straightening up when she realized Cerise’s glare was only intensifying.

“Okay, okay! We had a little run-in with Apophis. It wasn’t a big deal—”

“Not a big deal?” Cerise repeated slowly, her eyes narrowing further.

Rosemary laughed nervously, scratching the back of her head. “I mean... it could’ve been worse?”

Cerise didn’t respond immediately. Instead, her sharp gaze shifted to Lance.

Lance, who had been quietly eating, paused mid-bite. He lowered his fork with deliberate care, meeting Cerise’s gaze head-on.

The room grew still.

Cerise’s look wasn’t just one of inquiry—it was a silent reminder, one that said: You were there. You let this happen. Explain.

Lance held her gaze for a moment longer before exhaling softly.

“The beast caught us by surprise. Rosemary fought well, but the wound wasn’t something we could avoid. I took care of it.”

Cerise’s eyes narrowed further, studying his expression for any sign of hesitation. Lance didn’t flinch.

After a long pause, Cerise leaned back in her chair.

“Hmph. I see.”

But the intensity of her gaze didn’t waver.

Rosemary, still pale, glanced between the two of them, feeling the tension rising again.

“Uh—C’mon, Sis. It’s not like Lance wanted me to get hurt.”

Cerise gave a slow blink, gaze lingering on Lance for a few seconds longer before finally shifting back to Rosemary.

“...Fine. But next time, be more careful.”

Rosemary sighed in relief. “Yeah, yeah. Got it.”

Jio, watching the whole exchange with mild amusement, glanced sideways at Cerise. The faintest trace of a smile lingered on his lips.

Cerise caught the look and, without missing a beat, gave him a subtle side-eye warning.

Jio chuckled under his breath.

The conversation shifted back to lighter topics, but an unspoken tension lingered. Cerise’s sharp gaze had delivered its message clearly—she would always be watching.

Lance returned to his meal in silence, his hand brushing lightly against Rosemary’s, a silent promise that next time, he would be ready.

I have now fully completed and acquired all the Special Items and Power books, had to look far and wide around the valley just to find the difficult ones. 😂✨

But I noticed the "???" thing and I'm curious what that is. Either it's part of the vanilla game or some mods I install.

I recently got these adorable perler keychains commissioned from an online shop here in my country, and I'm absolutely in love with them! They perfectly capture the cuteness of Aleia with her husband Sebastian. And there's Rosemary with her lover Lance, too. Ahhhh, it's so sweet. 🥺 I can't get enough! 😭❤️ I'm already planning to place another order for more customizations of my other farmers and their love interest NPCs. A huge shoutout to KnoTela Creations for creating such a fantastic masterpiece!

I recently ordered another adorable Stardew Valley perler keychains online, but this time, I had them customized with my oc farmer, Yvonne and her husband, Sam. I think they turned out really cute! 😍 The shop even included some freebies, a stardrop and a void chicken, which I really appreciate. I'm already planning to place another order for more custom perler keychains in the future. A huge shoutout to Knotela Creations for creating these charming keychains for me!

After FOM Full Update:

ꜰᴀʀᴍᴇʀ - ꜰɪᴇʟᴅꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴍɪꜱᴛʀɪᴀ ꜰᴀʀᴍᴇʀ - ꜱᴛᴀʀᴅᴇᴡ ᴠᴀʟʟᴇʏ

March: *who is drunk* Heeeey Farmer, you looking mighty fine today. I wish could kiss you~

Farmer: Oh...Neat!

*later*

Farmer: *lying face down on their bed holding a phone calling to their relative from Stardew Valley* I said "NEAT" right in front of everyone! Who the fuck says neat these days? It's not neat to say NEAT but I said it anyways because I'm fucking stupid!

Farmer: *holding their baby while using their phone* Don't beat yourself up too much, cousin.

Farmer: I will never show my face in front of everyone again! Especially to March. How can I face him without embarrassing myself?

Farmer: Everyone gets nervous sometimes. Remember what I did when Sebastian confessed their love for me?

Farmer: Didn't you thank him?

Farmer: *stays still and looks at the ceiling* I fuc-freaking thanked him.

I haven't played "Fields of Misteria," but I've seen some playthroughs on YouTube where players interact with this npc named March. I definitely sense some enemies-to-lovers dynamic between him and the MC. ( ╹▽╹ )

A/N: After reading @studentinpursuitofclouds headcanon about the bachelors/ettes' reactions to being kidnapped for revenge or ransom only for their furious Farmer spouse to storm in and rescue them. I felt inspired. I couldn’t help but write a version for Lance, blending it with my farmer OCs' backstories. Hope you enjoy the fic!

The moon loomed high over the farmhouse, casting its pale, silver glow across the quiet fields. The night was still, almost unnervingly so, with only the soft rustle of leaves stirred by a gentle breeze. The greenhouse stood as a lone beacon in the darkness, its glass panels faintly aglow, sheltering a world of warmth and life separate from the cool hush outside. Inside, Rosemary moved among rows of flourishing crops, the earthy scent of soil and faint hum of lingering magic surrounding her. Yet, despite the comforting atmosphere, a knot of unease twisted tightly in her chest.

Lance should be home by now.

He had left at dawn, that familiar confident grin on his face, promising—promising—to return before sunset. She had believed him. Lance always kept his word. But now, as the hours stretched long past nightfall, the promise felt like a fading echo.

A message had come earlier, brief and reassuring. But Rosemary’s instincts screamed otherwise. She brushed her gloved fingers over the rough skin of a void root. The dark, twisted form seemed to absorb the soft light, pulsing faintly with ancient magic. She tried to focus on the task at hand—on the routine—but her thoughts kept circling back to one question.

Why isn’t he back?

Her pruning slowed. Water dripped from a nearby watering can. The silence grew thick.

Then it happened.

A chill—sharp and sudden—sliced down her spine.

Her breath hitched.

Her gloved hand froze mid-motion.

It wasn’t a sound. Not a shadow shifting in the corner of her vision. No. This was deeper. Internal. Like something inside her had snapped.

No...

The comforting aura of Lance’s magic, ever-present beside her own like a steady heartbeat—had vanished.

Gone.

Her pulse thundered in her ears.

“No.”

The word escaped her lips in a broken whisper. The trowel slipped from her hand, clattering against the stone path. A ragged cry tore from her throat as she stumbled back. Her gaze snapped toward the hills beyond the farmhouse. She reached inward—desperately—trying to find the familiar pulse of his magic.

There. Faint. So faint.

But still there.

A gasp tore from her.

Lance...

Alive. Barely conscious. But alive. Reaching for her.

Her hands fumbled for her phone. The screen blurred before her eyes as her fingers darted across it, moving faster than her mind could process. Only one number mattered.

The line rang once. Twice.

“Rosie?”, Her sister’s voice answered calm as ever, but edged with concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Cerise!!! I can’t feel him.” Rosemary’s voice cracked. “His magic! it’s gone—I don’t know what’s happening, what does it mean?”

Silence.

A silence that stretched for only a moment but felt like a lifetime.

When Cerise finally spoke, her tone had shifted, cool, sharp, edged with something Rosemary rarely heard from her sister: fear.

“No… they wouldn’t.” The words came as a whisper. Then, sharper, cold with realization: “Stay where you are. I’ll be there soon.”

Rosemary’s grip tightened around the phone.

“They must've took him.”

The words hung heavy in the air.

“They took my husband.”

This time, her voice was low, dangerous, a quiet fury simmering beneath each syllable.

Cerise inhaled sharply on the other end of the line. “Most likely. If they couldn’t get my Jio, their next move would be—”

“I’m going.”

“Rose—”

“I’m not waiting around, sister.” Rosemary’s jaw tightened. Her ocean jade eyes—usually bright and warm—narrowed into cold flames of determination. “I’m getting my husband back. Whatever it takes.”

”Rosemary, wait—”

But the call had already ended.

Without hesitation, Rosemary snatched up her sword from the greenhouse floor. The blade thrummed with her magic, responding to her rage. She pulled on her dark cloak, fastened the clasp at her neck, and slung a pouch of potions over her shoulder.

She stepped out into the night.

She didn’t need a plan.

Only a direction.

Lance’s faint magic—like a whisper at the edge of her mind—would guide her.

“Hold on, love” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I’m coming.”

And nothing would stand in her way.

The room reeked of damp stone and stale air, a subterranean prison swallowed by oppressive darkness. The narrow space was barely lit by a flickering lantern that hung from a rusted chain in the corner, its dim glow casting trembling shadows across the concrete walls slick with condensation. The ceiling sagged low, pressing down like a weight upon the soul. The air itself was suffocating, thick with the scent of mold and the faint, undeniable metallic tang of old blood. A chill seeped from the stone floor, gnawing at the skin, while the silence—broken only by the rhythmic drip of water echoing from some distant corridor—felt almost unnatural. But worse than the cold or the damp was the lingering, suffocating aura of magic that clung to every surface, woven into the very air. It was a cruel enchantment, designed to sap strength, to suppress power. And it was working.

Lance shifted in the chair he had been bound to, the rough rope digging into his wrists. His head hung low, dark pink hair falling messily into his face. A dull ache throbbed behind his eyes, sharp and insistent, growing worse with each breath drawn in the magic-saturated air. His eyes flickered open with slow, deliberate effort. His arms ached from the tight restraints that hummed faintly with the same suppressive power in the room. Even the smallest attempt to draw upon his magic was met with resistance, a suffocating weight that dulled the spark he relied on.

A breath slipped from his lips—slow, frustrated, bitter.

The Second-in-Command of the First Slash Clan, renowned combat mage, captured.

Not by a rival clan worthy of his strength. Not in battle against some formidable foe.

No, by a group of low-ranking mafia thugs who had no comprehension of the power they were trifling with.

The humiliation stung, but it wasn’t the real issue gnawing at him. His pride could endure this. What he could not endure was the knowledge he had failed. Failed to see the ambush coming. Failed to protect what mattered most. With all his training, all his magical prowess, he should have burned through these restraints with a flick of his wrist. But this room—the entire place—reeked of the kind of magic meant to weaken him, suppress him, render him vulnerable.

Still, it wasn’t his own fate that consumed his thoughts.

It was hers.

The realization cut deeper than any blade.

They weren’t after him.

They were after Rosemary.

He had heard them, muffled voices beyond the door, carelessly assuming he was too weak, too broken to care. But he had listened. Every word. Every plan. The truth had struck him harder than any blow. They believed that taking him would draw her out. They thought Rosemary would come running, desperate and vulnerable—a perfect trap.

But they didn’t know her.

They didn’t know Rosemary.

She wasn’t some fragile woman to be lured like a helpless bird. She had Cerise’s blood in her veins—the blood of the Crimson Wraith.

And worse still, they didn’t simply want to use her as bait. No. Their plan was far more twisted. They wanted her alive. They wanted to mold her into a weapon—a new puppet assassin forged from the only sister of the Crimson Wraith.

The thought made Lance’s jaw tighten, his fingers twitching against the ropes. His entire being recoiled at the idea of anyone laying a hand on her. His Rosemary. His wife. The woman who had fought for her freedom, who had lived in the shadow of her sister’s bloody past but had never allowed it to define her. They thought they could twist her into something she wasn’t.

The audacity.

The rage brewed quietly beneath his composed exterior, his magic stirring despite the oppressive weight. He would burn this place to ash for even daring to think of touching her.

The door creaked open.

Rusty hinges groaned like a dying animal, breaking the stillness.

Lance lifted his head, eyes narrowing as two figures stepped into the dim light. One was tall, broad-shouldered, with a jagged scar slashing across his cheek—a permanent sneer carved into his skin. The other remained near the door, arms crossed, eyes dull with boredom.

The scarred man grinned, a slow, mocking curve of his lips.

“You know.” he drawled, stepping forward with deliberate slowness. “None of this would’ve happened if you hadn’t married that red-haired bitch. We didn’t want you. You were never the target.”

He crouched, bringing his face close enough that Lance could smell the foul mix of tobacco and cheap liquor on his breath.

“We wanted her sister. Cerise. She was... valuable to us. But she escaped. Left everything behind, dragging her little sister along like a coward.”

His grin widened, malicious satisfaction gleaming in his eyes.

“But now? We have something better. You see, we realized something. What better way to replace the Crimson Wraith than with her own blood? We’ll take your precious wife, and turn her into the perfect weapon. Our new puppet.”

The words echoed in the damp room.

Lance didn’t move. His expression didn’t change. His face remained calm, far too calm.

But inside?

How dare you.

The air shifted.

Even bound and suppressed, his magic stirred, a quiet storm gathering, waiting. The ropes bit into his wrists, but they were nothing more than an inconvenience. He would burn this entire place to the ground before he let them touch her.

And then—

Footsteps.

At first faint, almost mistaken for an echo. But then louder. Steady. Unyielding.

The two mafia members stiffened. Their smug confidence faltered.

The pressure in the air built, thick and suffocating. The flickering lantern dimmed, shadows crawling further along the walls. The footsteps didn’t slow.

They grew louder. Closer.

And then—

The door exploded inward.

Wood shattered into splinters. The force of the blast sent fragments clattering across the stone floor. The oppressive magic that had choked the room recoiled instantly. For a moment, the air itself seemed to fear the figure standing in the doorway.

Rosemary stood there—fury incarnate.

Her rose-red hair blazed in the dim light, cascading behind her like a river of flame. Ocean jade eyes burned with unrelenting rage and fear, swirling with power she no longer cared to conceal. The aura surrounding her crackled with raw magic—a tempest on the brink of being unleashed.

“Where...”, she whispered, her voice low, trembling with restrained wrath, “Is my husband?”

The scarred man stumbled back. “Oh shit-!” he muttered in disbelief, glancing at his companion.

But the moment he moved—

Rosemary vanished.

A flash of purple swept through the air. Her blade glinted once, a crescent of death cutting through the dim light. With a scream, the scarred man flew backward, crashing into the far wall with a sickening crunch. The second man barely had time to react before Rosemary descended on him with relentless precision. Her strikes were merciless—graceful yet devastating. Every movement spoke of years of training, of lessons carved into muscle and bone.

They had expected a weak sister.

They received a force of nature.

The second man crumpled to the floor without a sound.

Silence fell.

Lance remained still, his gaze fixed on the woman who had torn apart his captors without hesitation. His heart thundered in his chest—not out of fear, but awe. She had come for him. She had shattered their illusions. She was magnificent.

Rosemary turned.

Her gaze softened the moment it met his. The fury faded, replaced by something far deeper—fear, worry, desperation.

“Lance.”

Her voice broke.

In two strides, she was beside him, dropping to her knees. Her hands reached for his face first, trembling as they brushed against his skin, as if afraid he would vanish.

“Are you—did they—?” Her voice cracked, unable to form the question.

“I’m fine.” His voice was soft but firm, though his smile faded when he saw the tears shining in her eyes.

“No, you’re not.” She gritted her teeth, glancing at the glowing restraints. Without hesitation, her fingers tightened around the ropes. Magic pulsed through her veins, rushing to her hands.

The ropes hissed.

With a surge of power and a cry laced with all the fear and rage she had suppressed, Rosemary ripped them apart. The restraints shattered into ash beneath her touch.

Lance didn’t move. He simply watched her—watched as she clung to him, as her shoulders shook.

“I thought—” she choked out, “I thought I was too late.”

Gently, Lance wrapped his arms around her.

“You weren’t.”

She buried her face in his chest. “I would have destroyed this whole place if they’d laid a hand on you.”

“I know.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “You were perfect.”

“No.” She pulled back slightly, her ocean jade eyes locking onto his, fierce even through the tears. “Not perfect. Just in time.”

And when Lance leaned forward to press his lips to hers, tender lingering. It wasn’t simply relief that filled the space between them.

It was a promise.

A promise that no matter who came for them next, no matter what shadows lurked in the past, they would face them—together.