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kumoriyami-xiuzhen · 2 years ago

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Hakuoki Character Drama CD Book Vol 3 - Harada

Typed out “Haradad” by accident when I was typing out who the speaker was for one of the lines in this drama... i think i want to go crawl into a hole and hide now.

*insert pathetic laugh here*

lol. in my defence, the content of this did not help. Also I’d rank Yamazaki higher than Harada.

anyway.

enjoy!

Hakuoki Character Drama CD Book Vol 3 Harada Sanosuke-hen Winter Story

Translation by KumoriYami

Act 1

Location: Bedroom

Time: Morning

【Leaving the country we came from to come here, Sanosuke-san and I crossed the sea to get to this northern country. The winters in this coastal town are extremely cold, and the icy winds coming in from the sea are bone-chilling. However, we've built a family in this country, and narrating our own happy times——】

Yukimura:...Nn....

【Although the winds outside were extremely cold, I still felt very warm with my child wrapped in the blankets, and I unwittingly forgot what time it was... 】

SE: rustle

【I was woken up by the sound of Sanosuke-san changing clothes, he turned his head.】

Harada: Sorry, did I wake you?

Yukimura: Eh.... Ah, Sanosuke-san?

SE: Getting out of bed sound

Yukimura: So-Sorry! I... I overslept...!

Harada: Don't worry about it, I woke up early. Furthermore, [our] child seemed to have been crying for a long time last night, so you must be pretty tired.

Yukimura; Yes..... but

Harada: You both seemed to be sleeping so peacefully, and I feel happy just from seeing your sleeping faces.

【I looked at the child sleeping next to me, who just woke up. He seemed to be in a good mood at this time, and even though he was a bit difficult at times, he was mostly an honest child.】

Harada: This child also slept peacefully, so he's happy this morning. Well, it's truly great that he was able to sleep with his mother

SE: baby's laughter

Harada: See, he also said that he's happy. Besides, the sun hasn't come out yet, it'll be fine if you sleep a little longer.

Yukimura: Thank you. Even so... Sanosuke-san, you still got up very early today.

Harada: I have to go to a distant sentry post to observe the situation today, which is I need to leave early.

Yukimura: Is that so

Harada: Dad's going to work now, so be a good boy

SE: baby's laughter

Yukimura: Have a pleasant journey, Sanosuke-san... stay safe.

Harada: Yeah, you should also pay attention to staying warm, and even if you're at home, it'll still be cold today so don't get sick. Then I'll be setting off now.

SE: the sound of a horse's galloping hooves

【As soon as the door opened, some of daybreak's chilly air difted into the house, and Sanosuke-san braved the cold as he rode away, disappearing into the darkness in the blink of an eye. 】

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Act 2

Location: living room

Time: evening

【With a child, the day passes very quickly.】

Yukimura: It's almost time to prepare dinner.

SE: footsteps

Harada: I'm back

Yukimura: Welcome home, Sanosuke-san

Harada: I'm back, how were you today, nothing happened, right?

Yukimura: Nn. It wasn't too cold today, so I took this child to play outside for a while.

SE: baby's laughter

Harada: Is that so. Did you protect your mother while i wasn't here?

SE: baby's laughter

Yukimura: really, shouldn't it be other way around? I should be the one protecting this child.

Harada: Haha, that's right. You're already a qualified mother... Thank you for protecting our home/family everyday.

Yukimura: How can that be... Sanosuke-san is the one working hard everyday.

Harada: What, a job like this is nothing, [though] it's great to be able to come home early.

【At that moment, I noticed that Sanosuke-san was holding a package didn't recognize, just was [in?]it?】

Yuimura: ? Sanosuke-san, that package is...?

Harada: oh, almost forgot

SE: The sound of a package being put down

Harada: This package was given to me by the man who was in charge of the lookout post last month, saying that it was my share. It's venison that was caught by someone who's good at hunting.

【As he spoke, he opened the package to showed it to me.】

Yukimura: Wow, there's so much

【The weather in this land is extremely cold, and during winter, it becomes a barren land. However, the people give food to one another like this to support each other.】

Harada: Are you going to start making dinner now?

Yukimura; Yes, I'll start right away

【With that, I got up and prepared to head into the kitchen.】

Harada: So, since we managed to get this, why don't we have venison tonight?

Yukimura: Ah, yes. Then... drink some wine first and [I'll] grill it.

Harada: Aahh, I'll leave it to you. Let me play together with my adorable son first.

【After he spoke, Sanosuke-san lifted up the baby up high.】

SE: baby's laughter

Harada: Up high! Isn't this fun! How about this! Watch this!

SE: baby's laughter

Yukimura: Oh, it seems like you're having a lot of fun... Then please look after our child.

Harada: Aahh, leave it to me

【As I listened to the laughter of the two people behind me, I happily walked into the kitchen.】

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Act 3

Location: Living room

Time: night

【The temperature during the day isn't too cold, but in the evening, it gets worse. Strong winds make the windows rattle.】

SE: Sound of strong winds

SE: Sound of windows shaking

Harada: The weather's gotten worse. It was good to have come home early.

Yukimura: Yes. This weather Horses aren't able to run in this weather.

Harada: Nn.... Thanks to you, I was able to enjoy such a delicious dinner.

SE: The sound of tableware clattering

Yukimura: How does the venison taste?

Harada: It's delicious and doesn't have any fishy smell. I feel like I can eat as much as I want.

Yukimura: That's great. I made a lot, so eat up.

Harada: You seem to be very good at cooking with the meat and other ingredients here; when I was in the Shinsengumi, I've always thought that no one could match your cooking skills.

Yukimura: I'm really happy to hear you say that. When I first started living here, I suffered a lot of hardships [learning how] to cook.

Harada: I did too, and although I'm now familiar with the locals, it was really hard at the beginning. But looking back now, there are only good memories.

Yukimura; Yes.

【As I chatted with Sanosuke-san, I suddenly recalled when we lived in Japan... when i started living with the Shinsengumi, and although the situation then might be different in Sanosuke-san's eyes, I think it's similar to now.】

Harada: It's a miracle that complete outsiders like us were even accepted.

Yukimura; Yes, it must be because Sanosuke-san is a very popular person.

Harada: I'm popular? It's certainly as you say, [but] aren't we also popular because you're a good person?

Yukimura: Why do you say that?

Harada: Everyone time someone who lives nearby gets sick, aren't you always the first person to take care of them? It's only natural that someone who does so much for people without asking for anything in return will be trusted.

Yukimura: That... I simply did would should be done...

Harada: it's already very difficult for me to do. Thanks to you, we are now fully accepted as people in this neighborhood. This is all your credit.

Yukimura; Sanosuke-san...

Harada: If there aren't any acquaintance/friends nearby, it would be very lonely. It'd be really hard to live like that. With such an environment, this child will be able to live well here.

Yukimura: Nn, yes

SE: baby's laughter

Harada: Lately, he's been smiling/laughing a lot. At the beginning, whenever I held him, he would get very restless, so it was really hard.

Yukimura: Aahh, yes. Nowadays this child is always very happy whenever Sanosuke-san holds him/lifts him up.

Harada: Speaking of which, when this child can walk/stand up on his own, why don't the three of us go somewhere else [tl says "distant place"] to play together? This child will have to ride a horse one day, so it'd be better to get used to it earlier.

Yukimura: I've already started thinking about the future.

Harada: That's as it should be, right? It's my duty as a father to consider the future of this child.

【When I first I arrived in this country, I couldn't even figure out my directions, but now this foreign land where I've built a family from nothing, has unexpectedly become so warm, which makes me extremely happy.】

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Act 4

Location

Time: Night

【After a lively dinner, doing some housework and [some] other things, the skies soon became dark. The winter climate in Ezo is also very harsh, and rarely will people be busy until late at night like in Kyoto, and most people will have already fallen asleep at night, waiting for the next day to arrive. 】

Harada: Oh, he seems to have fallen asleep.

Yukimura: yes, he was playing a long during the day, and is tired [now].

Harada: Haha, it seems that he's sound asleep... if this continues, he won't cry tonight, right?

Yukimura: I think he'll sleep until dawn...

Harada: Then you should also go take a bath and go to sleep.... Hah, I'm sleepy too.

Yukimura: Then, we'll go to sleep early.

Harada: Haha... I'm tired after riding a horse all day today.

Yukimura: Today was exhausting. I have to get up early tomorrow!

Harada: Hey, are you still worried about what happened this morning? You didn't oversleep, I got up early.

Yukimura: but...

Harada: Furthermore, it really won't matter if you sleep in tomorrow.

Yukimura: Eh...?

Harada: I'll rest at home tomorrow, [though?] it's not good for all three of us to sleep together/so it's fine if the three of us sleep together [one or the other. can be interpreted both ways though I think the latter makes more sense].

Yukimura: Sanosuke-san, tomorrow... you'll be resting?

Harada: Yeah, I have the whole day off, I haven't done that in a month.

【I was relieved to hear what Sanosuke-san said. Sanosuke-san job doesn't have holidays, and it was rare for him to come home early, rather, he almost always came back late at night... I'm worried that Sanosuke-san's body will collapse one day.】

Yukimura: That's great...

【Sanosuke-san seemed to know what I was thinking, and looked apologetic.】

Harada: I'm sorry for worrying you

Yukimura: No, that doesn't matter. But, take better care of your body.

Harada: Nn, however, you don't need to worry about me/my body though. You know, compared to how busy i was everyday when I was in the Shinsengumi, this is nothing.

【Sanosuke-san's words reminded me of those days, when indeed, everyone at that time barely had time to rest, and even and even if they were off-duty, they still had to go on patrol immediately.】

Harada: Besides, after surviving the war with great difficulty, and starting a family with you, I need to live well.

Yukimura: Sanosuke-san....

Harada: Of course, I understand your worries. After finally getting away from the war in Japan and coming to a place where I didn't need to take up arms, I still chose a job that required violence.

But, I don't regret it. In any case... what I need to protect now is different from the past.

We had a duty to protect Kyoto at that time then, and it didn't matter if we had to risk our lives [to do so]. That was true for me and for them.

But now, my duty is to protect you and this child. I have to work hard to take care of him, so I absolutely cannot die easily.

Thank you for coming with me to live in this foreign country.

Our family of three... No, perhaps that will increase in the future... regardless if that becomes four or more, I will do my best to protect you all.

Yukimura; Alright... I'll be relying on you.

Harada: Okay, we should sleep too. We've inadvertently been talking for too long, and it'd be bad if if woke up now and wanted to join us.

Yukimura: Yes... Hehe, this child is sound asleep...

SE: Baby's snoring

Harada: A child's sleeping face is truly wonderful I will never get tired of the sight of you and this child sleeping together.

Yukimura: Me too, if Sanosuke-san and our child sleep together, I won't be able to stop staring...

Harada: Haha, yeah. Apparently [we'll?] have to wake up early tomorrow to see [his?] sleeping face.

Yukimura: Yes... rest well, [and] please allow me to see your sleeping face, Sanosuke-san.

Harada: Aahh, it feels pretty good to be watched by you...... then I'll put out the light.

Yukimura: Nn...

【Sanosuke-san stretched his body to blow out the lantern that was next to his pillow. The room was immersed in darkness, and the sound of the wind from outside seemed to be louder. 】

Yukimura: good night, Sanosuke-san

Harada: Nn, good night.

Starring: Harada Sanosuke... Yusa Koji

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I think.. of the original routes, Souji and Heisuke are the only routes where kids/pregnancies haven’t ever mentioned?

For Hijikata, it’s in Reimeiroku.

For Saito, It’s in Ginsei no Shou.

For Harada, it’s canon.

For Kazama, it’s Tsukikage no Shou.

#hakuoki #hakuouki #harada sanosuke #Yukimura Chizuru #hakuoki drama #hakuoki drama cd #hakuoki drama translation

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neo-shitty · 3 years ago

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stray kids masterlist.

☆ - reader’s favorite, ♡ - writer’s pick

back to main masterlist | navigation

OT8 SERIES

IN THESE HALLS. — you are a student of seoul’s top arts high school, SSA. during your sophomore year, you stumble upon a group of boys who took you under their wing. the rest was history. | a compilation of high school aus set in the same universe

BANG CHAN

CHAMPAGNE PROBLEMS. — in which your only company is the hum of the train beneath your feet and the numbness in your chest—waist-deep in regret and envious of the happiness that could’ve been yours. 3.3k. angst.

DROWN. — in which the music wasn’t enough to drown out the thoughts inside his head anymore. 3k. hurt/comfort(?), slight fluff, slight angst, high school!au

GLADIUS MAXIMUS. — in which they didn’t tell you that superheroes didn’t always come in suits and capes. some came in casual clothes, OP bronze swords and sparky hands. 2.8k. percy jackson and the olympians!au, comedy.

IF I FALL. ♡ — “so i walked back to my room and collapsed on the bottom bunk, thinking that if people were rain, i was drizzle and she was a hurricane.” - john green, looking for alaska. 2.9k. fluff, prom night!au, high school!au

STAR LOST. — in which you find out the hard way that leaping off of skyscrapers was one of the ideal dates of the sky god’s favorite son. sequel to gladius maximus. 1.3k. fluff, pjo!au, established relationship!au

ZERO DEGREES. — “closed-eyed and hoping for a better life.” 5.6k. heavy angst.

drabbles :: on the ride home ♡

LEE MINHO

BACK BEFORE SUNDOWN. ♡ — today was a nice day. just you, minho, the woods, and its occupant. 1.4k. horror, gore, paranormal, slight fluff.

PATCH UP. — prompt. #35 - sick x concerned: where there’s a lack lot of mother-henning for ficscafe’s au pairing event 1.4k. fluff, neighbor!au

ROGER RABBIT. ☆ ♡ — notorious troublemaker lee minho teeters between suspension and expulsion when he finally gets caught, except it’s for something he didn’t do and when the boy cries ‘innocent’, no one bats an eyelash to drive the wolves of consequence away. with only one eye witness and the world’s faith turned away from him, it’s up to his friends to white out a well-earned reputation and serve justice where it’s due. (all prior cases that led up to said notorious reputation aside, though.) 26.8k. adventure, comedy, high school!au

TIMEPIECE. — time was often a concept too hard to grasp. for most things, it passes—irreversible—its marks left on whatever it touches. flowers wilting, buildings crumbling, people aging, all things fickle and impermanent. then there were those stuck in its loop long enough to become one with it like the seasons that changed in a number of months, and there were those whose clocks have already ticked their last—the dead. 2.9k. angst, shingeki no kyojin/attack on titan!au

drabbles :: sharp-tongued

SEO CHANGBIN

FIVE STAR. ☆ — changbin wasn’t the five-star michelin their song suggested but he was a five-star boyfriend to you and somehow that was enough. 1.5k. fluff, established relationship!au, idol!au

SAFETY PIN. — just because changbin knows how to put away a knife doesn’t change the fact that he knows how to wield one. 2.5k, hurt/comfort, angst, bestfriends!au

UNDER STREETLIGHTS. — when his own light dims, changbin wades the darkness of both the night and his mind alone. he needs someone tonight but that isn’t something the local convenience store across the street can offer. or can it? 5k. hurt/comfort, fluff, platonic(?), student council!au, high school!au

HWANG HYUNJIN

DAYBREAK. — every morning was a no-clip out of the reality whenever he was with you. 3.1k. fluff, high school!au

MEET ME WHERE THE FLOWERS ARE. ♡ — “ano daw la kun aadi la gihap? iba gud it kabutangan hiton akon kinabuhi.” (what if you were still here? things would’ve turned out differently.) — hain ka, bullet dumas 1.7k. hurt/comfort, angst

drabbles :: beside you, district nine, in the comfort of your apartment

HAN JISUNG

BRUISE LEE. — han jisung has lost to lees all his life, he should’ve been used to it by now. 2.6k. fluff, high school!au.

CHECKMATE. ☆ ♡ — in which a group of friends decided to play a realistic game of mafia where it was all fun in games until one of them goes missing. 19.3k. mystery, thriller, high school!au

GHOSTING. ☆ ♡ — after months of radio silence, jisung shows up on the rooftop of your friend’s house as if nothing had changed at all. 1.8k. angst, slice of life, best friends!au

KARAOKE BLUES. — when in doubt, have a karaoke night out. or in which the first real hurdle of your seemingly flawless relationship is finals week (and miscommunication and a tad bit of overreaction). 2.1k. fluff, slight comedy, camping!au, established relationship!au

KETCHUP. — after months of skirting around each other, it was about time for the both of you to catch up. 1.9k. fluff, high school!au.

OBLIVIATE. — in which you found yourself alone with han jisung again; still fighting the same battle, but this time on two different sides. 2.8k. harry potter/hogwarts!au, angst, enemies to lovers.

OREO MINE. ☆ — the universe never worked in han jisung’s favor so when it (finally) did, he wasn’t ready for it. supplementary fic to bruise lee. 3.7k. fluff, high school!au.

drabbles :: try hard

LEE YONGBOK

ROAD RUNNERS. — road running was just like any other high-paying job brought about by the new road management system. high risk, high reward. another position had been vacated in your station, you just hoped the newbie would last a little longer than the last one did. 2.6k. dystopian, kind of workmates!au

drabbles :: sunshower :: chevron signs

KIM SEUNGMIN

THE LONELY HEARTS CLUB. — when you reach the point at world’s end where nothing seems to go your way anymore, will company be enough to console you? 2.1k. angst, hurt/(no)comfort, platonic!au, friendship!au, university!au

THOU SHALL NOT DIE. ♡ — “do you think if you put your life on the line fighting for others, someone will stamp a form certifying you deserve to live?” — ryunosuke akutagawa, bungo stray dogs. 2k. angst, sci-fi, fantasy, dystopian!au

WHEN THE DUST SETTLES. ♡ — prompt. #21 - sharing your umbrella with them in the rain from the 50 wordless ways to say i love you list. 1.8k. slice of life, hurt/comfort, high school!au

drabbles :: at lunch break, in the rain, proofreader(bf)!seungmin ☆ ♡

YANG JEONGIN

HEARTBREAK GIRL. — introducing yang jeongin: resident best friend, never the boyfriend. 1.4k. fluff, slight angst, slight pining, best friends!au, high school!au

These are works of FICTION. All of the characters, organizations, events and places mentioned in these stories are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

#stray kids fics #skz fics #skz masterlist #masterlist

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grogusmum · 4 years ago

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A Galaxy Far Far Away au: Part 3 Making Breakfast

DIN DJARIN X EARTHING F!READER

WARNINGS: Still all fluff

WORD COUNT: 2500ish

SUMMARY: In an effort to keep Din’s son safe from Imps and bounty hunters, he sets a course for a far away galaxy.

On Earth, Din and Grogu have been taken in by gentle reader, and they go from bone broth and ration bars to gathering eggs and chopping wood for the first meal of the day.

Part 1 Part 2

Looking at the clock on your bedside table, you groaned.

After showing Mando where the bathroom was and how it all worked, then helping your guests set up the futon, you cleared the dishes and brushed your teeth a second time that night. A small laugh popped out.

"Are pumpkins small animals," you mumbled with a mouth full of toothpaste. So cute.

You got gratefully back into bed, but the moment your head touched the pillow you were wide awake. You started thinking about how to hide the space craft, the Razor Crest, Mando had called it. You weren't sure if it was "a" Razor Crest, like a Ford Mustang, or "the" Razor Crest, like, the Bluesmobile. Thank the gods you decided not to go down that rabbit hole of awkward.

What the hell was wrong with me, you thought.

After that little tangent, your mind raced with thoughts of NASA and the government in general. They had to know, right? The Razor Crest couldn't have entered our atmosphere, let alone US air space without them knowing... should I expect a big plastic envelope encasing my home by tomorrow, remembering the scene from E.T. . .

You shook your head.

Relax, breath, sleep, think about it the morning.

But it was morning, sure an unacceptable hour in the morning but daybreak was coming sooner rather than later.

Then suddenly with some indignation you thought, did all my animals ditch me for the alien knight and his little green goblin??

You laughed at yourself and sighed as you finally drifted off.

It was fully morning before you knew it, you had only slept a couple hours. But once your eyes opened you knew you had to drag yourself out of bed. You pulled on jeans and your comfiest plaid flannel. You then pulled on wool socks and padded into the kitchen. You could hear scratching at the door to the art studio. You opened the door just enough to let all the animals come out, to preserve Mandos privacy, careful not look in.

"Good morning, Willow... Seamus... Tabitha" you said as they each came through the door. You were just about to shut it again when a little green hand came around the door.

"Oh! And good morning to you Grogu!" You switched to a whisper, "Is your dad still asleep?"

Grogus waddled thought the door looking up at you, babbling and pointing into the room.

"Okay, well, we can let Mando sleep. Shall you and I will get the morning chores done? How does that sound?"

"Patu," the little one said, ears at attention.

"I'll take that as a yes, little one, let’s help Seamus do his business."

You scooped up the child and walked over to the front door, stepping into a pair of clogs you kept by the door. Seamus was at your heels, as you stepped out into crisp morning, frost glittered over the grass and plants. "Brrrr, the temperature dropped like stone!" you shivered, quickly attaching Seamus' collar to the dog run. You slipped back inside to grab your coat, you wrapped a scarf around Grogu for good measure, then headed to the hen house.

"These are hens, Grogu, they are laying eggs for us to eat!" Grogus ears went up and his eyes widened. You let out a little laugh. He reached out to them.

"Sure, you can pet them, gently, it is very important for us to show how thankful we are." You placed him on the floor of the small building, which was strewn with hay.

"Good morning, ladies," you said brightly, Grogu peered with interest at the waking chickens, feeling their soft feathers, he cooed with delight. You picked up your egg basket and dipped your hand under each hen gently.

"Thank you, Gerta. Thank you, Clara. Thank you, Amelia. And thank you, Eva!" You, then, handed a cup of grain to Grogu and took some yourself to show him how to pour it into their trough. He copied, then looked up at you, proud of himself. You booped his nose.

"Good job, buddy, I just need to give them fresh water."

You finished that task, scooped Grogu up again, who whined a little not wanting to leave his new friends.

After assuring Grogu he could see them again you opened the hen’s little door, so they could stretch their legs in the yard, you waltzed back into the house, Seamus followed, ready for breakfast.

You sang a silly song to Grogu about a baby bumblebee, as you entered the living room to find Mando stock still, in his flight suit and helmet in the center of the room. You to jumped in surprise. Grogu wriggled to get down, then pointed to the eggs and babbled excitedly

You smiled at his enthusiasm and imagined he was telling a fantastic story about the eggs and feeding the hens that laid them. Mando let out a breath of relief, "I didn't know where-"

"I'm so sorry, I wanted to let you lie in. I should have-"

"No," Mando held up a hand. "Its fine."

You handed the basket to Grogu to show Mando. He waddled over to Din, his father knelt, and he showed Mando the 7 eggs, some blue, some ruddy, one speckled and white.

"You gathered these?" He asked the child. Grogu looked very pleased with himself. Din looked up at you, and found you gazing down at their sweet interaction with a wistful smile. Your face warmed a little at being caught. Din noticed and kindly turned attention to the eggs.

"These are for-"

"Breakfast," you smiled, "these do come from small animals."

Din chuckled, you warmed anew.

"Breakfast?"

"The first and most important meal of the day!" You chirped, and because you can't seem to stop yourself, "I'm not sure if that's still considered true actually... it could have just been factory egg farm lobbyists..." you rolled your eyes and muttered, "capitalism."

I'm literally nuts, you think, rolling your eyes again, as you went to feed your clamoring brood of animals. And still, you continued, "well, Egg Lobby or not, it's my favorite, and I have my own chickens so... suck it Factory Farming!"

What is wrong with you!

Din had no idea what you were talking about, except that "Breakfast" is first meal, that eggs were being served, the kid will like that, and that you were charming, wait what?

You decided not to explain, that "breakfast" comes from the 15th century England, "to break your fast"... you internally give yourself a pat on the shoulder, for a job well done.

"Can I help?" Din asked, picking up the little one, holding him so he faced forward, Grogu continued to hold the basket. You took a mental picture.

"Um... sure, I am out of kindling", you said, pointing to the wood stove, "for the fire. Follow me." You led them outside to the axe yard. Din noticed you smell the air, and hum. "Smells like snow," you said mostly to yourself, despite the blue sky, "I'm not sure how much firewood chopping you do... um, whe- where you're from..."

"Me? Not much," Mando said, you could hear a smile. "Generally, if I make a fire, it's outside. With. Um. Branches, I just broke them. "

"Okay, it will be a breeze, you probably don’t really need me to… um, it’s all about confidence really," you told him as you put on your heavy leather gloves, grabbed your camp axe and a half round log. You placed it on a large chopping stump.

You explained the difference between splitting logs with the long-handled hamaxe and making kindling with a short-handled axe. You appreciated his rapt attention. So often you found explaining something like this to a man was difficult, even a guy who’s lived in a city his whole life and has no reason in the world to feel like it was a skill he should just know, seemed to get defensive. He's from outer freaking space, of course, he's not 'like other guys', you rolled your eyes at yourself a second time that morning.

You, then, demonstrated. You brought the axe up and swung down in a smooth confident motion, hitting the log, square in the center. It popped apart, in that satisfying way, maple tends to do. You loved it. The next piece you held upright on the stump, then you didn’t swing, you let the weight of butt of the axe do the work, just letting it drop, so it stuck an inch into the log. You then lifted the axe, the log attached, and brought them both down hard and smooth onto the stump splitting it gain. Then two more times.

“Tada! It’s Kindling!!

Din placed the little one on the ground. You handed him your gloves, "these are more protective. For, um. This work. They are kind of too big for me... so" He took his gloves off, you noted his hands, wide, tan, double jointed thumbs, then he put on yours.

You picked up Grogu, so he wouldn't get under foot. "Watch from here, jellybean."

"Patu," he remarked. You nodded.

For Dins part, he appreciated how you taught. For all your tangents, (which for reasons he didn’t understand he thought was adorable) when you taught, you were very clear about what to do, more importantly how you wanted them and what you needed, all the while being warm and kind. He also, enjoyed watching you demonstrate, your fluid and powerful movement, and obvious enjoyment of simple things.

Din picked up the other 1/4th round and balanced it on the stump. He brought up the ax and brought down, it popped apart.

"Buurap!" Grogu cheered. You smiled.

"How much do you want?"

"Um, three logs will do us for the day. I'll go in and start. How well does Grogu listen?"

Mando huffed a laugh.

"Gotcha," you laughed. You grabbed the kindling you made to get the fire started, "I'll bring him in then, so you don't have to worry about where he is."

Din watched you go into the cottage with Grogu. He listened to the birds and prepared to split the next log with a smile. He was anxious when he woke to find his foundling missing. But he felt a strange stirring when you came in with him in your arms, singing a little song to him.

As you walked inside with Grogu now, he felt at ease, his trust in you surprised him. He was enjoying being out in the yard, the air was fragrant, crisp, the sky was a pleasing blue with puffy clouds... but he felt a pull to finish up and get inside with you and the child. He also felt a pull to do more for you. So, he after he finished the kindling, he started, chopping some of the whole logs with the long axe.

He weighed the axe his hands, thinking about you doing this work. He was both impressed and ... well, he brushed whatever that other thought was before it becoming fully formed, something involving asking you to demonstrate so he could watch again.

Inside, you had set the little one up in the living room with some toys, and walked into the kitchen knowing you could check in on him easily, but he whimpered when you walked away. So, you went around the doorway and then peeked around the corner, "Hi Grogu!" Showing him, you were right there. He smiled, seemingly at ease and began playing with, what was now, his stuffed rabbit.

As you turned, you looked out the kitchen window that looked out on the axe yard, Din was now using the long-handled ax splitting whole logs, bringing you up short. You were just about to say, how sweet and helpful he was, Aw... but his arms came up over his head. You noted his trim waist and broad shoulders, then he brought the ax down hard.

Shit.

You prided yourself on your self-sufficiency, and you didn’t get all melty at muscles for muscles sake, but you felt... you shook your head and muttered, "okay cave person DNA, calm the hell down. You are evolved. Sheesh."

You were singing again when Din returned, the kindling in his arms. He stopped, listening. It was a pretty song, about stars and colors, your voice sweet and free of self-consciousness. Grogu was playing with toys living room, the animals sleeping close to him, he leaned on Seamus.

Din listened to you, and watched the kid, arms full of wood. He could smell the delicious smell of your cooking, which he already felt a preference for, even though he has only sampled the two soups from last night.

You crossed the kitchen to the table, you looked into the living room to check on the little one, seeing Mando through the doorway, "Hey, you’re back!" You registered he seemed rooted to the spot, not unlike last night. "What- are you okay?"

He wanted to see, smell and hear everything here, without his helmet.

What is the matter with you, Djarin??

"Yeah, I- you- your kindling?" He grimaced, now, quite relieved the helmet was in place.

You smiled warmly, "thank you for that, there's a wooden crate behind you, just plop it in there. Breakfast is almost ready, if you want to put Grogu in his seat."

His seat, Din thought warmly. He groaned internally at these thoughts and feelings.

You met, this person, last night nerf herder, relax.

He picked up Grogu, and brought him to the sink to wash hands. "Time to eat, buddy, today you're allowed to eat eggs." He gently washed Grogus hands within his own.

The table was already set for three. You set out several serving platters, bacon, eggs with cheese, spinach and mushrooms, home fries, a bowl of cut fruit, and a stack of toast. You grabbed a French press of coffee and a carafe of orange juice and sat down.

Din looked at all the food, and then you.

"I got carried away," you said apologetically, "it's my favorite and it’s my day off sooo..." Remembering his helmet, you hastily added, "don't feel bad about making yourself a plate and going into your room. We can talk through the door, you can sit at the sewing table, it's right by the door.” You got up and pulled a tray from a cabinet, so he could bring his plate and drinks in with ease.

"Thank you," Din wanted to stay, but that seemed like as good a compromise as anything. He loaded Grogus plate with a little of everything and then made up his own plate, then poured his coffee. You added a small glass of orange juice and placed the cream and sugar other tray, "if you don't like your coffee black. Add a little cream and sugar a little at a time until it’s to your liking." He nodded and went into the other room, you had called it his room, and shut the door. He thought about how you, despite the adorable awkwardness, were so at ease, sharing you space with them. You truly acted like your house was his house the moment you invited him and the kid in.

After Din shut the door, you began helping Grogu eat, but after a taste, he dug in himself. A moment later you heard Din hum, "everything tastes so good."

You smiled as you sipped your coffee. Then you remembered NASA...

Part 4

If you are interested in hearing more about Grgu meeting the hens from Grogu’s PoV, you can find that fic here.

@its--fandom--darling @seasonschange-butpeopledont

@oloreaa

@lexi-b-writes

@darthmama1618

@artemiswastaken

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sharkbait77 · 3 years ago

Text

The Sun Sets With You

Chapter Five: Just A Man

Summary: A simple yet despondent farm life suddenly sparks with new hope when an unusual traveler makes your town his latest stop and brings with him intriguing and promising viewpoints and no one to share them with. Until he meets you.

Pairing: Ezra Prospect x f!Reader

Rating: M

Warnings: Fluff! (It's getting cute y'all!), death of a parent, grief, smoking, food, Silas🤢, a little sad Ezra in this one

W/C: 4k (made it a little longer to make up for the wait! 🥺)

A/N: We are back! I'm so so so sorry this took so long to get out! What can I say, life happened & kept knocking me down & I couldn't find the strength to write for this fic. I'm still not even completely happy with this chapter, but after reading it so many times, I think it's okay lol a huge thanks to everyone for being so patient & lovely to me ♥️ okay, I'll shut up, hope you enjoy!

Series || Main || Taglist || AO3

Chapter Four || Chapter Six

~MAY EIGHTH OF EIGHTEEN SIXTY-SEVEN~

As the days and weeks passed, Ezra finally felt comfortable enough to join you and Pa for meals at your family table, sitting and eating quietly until responding to a thought or question of Pa’s. It felt nice. It felt…warm and natural. As opposed to the slight coldness you’ve felt sitting with Pa, without your mother. Though it was still as quiet as your meals alone with your father, the silence now was more comforting.

You realized shortly after that last evening under the tree with Ezra what exactly ails you when near him, why exactly your pulse quickens and you feel heat flush your neck and cheeks. It was a startling conclusion, given that you have been inexperienced when it comes to the term ‘love’, outside of the love you felt for Ma and Pa. This, with Ezra, contrasts immensely.

It had caught you off guard, a small infatuation with the man that you realized must have taken hold of your heart from the first moment you met him, when you simply could not remove your eyes from his face. You now find your eyes lingering on his features longer, learning the curve of his smile, the fine wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, memorizing the tone of his voice and his laugh to be replayed in moments of silence.

It’s strange; a simple emotion that you had witnessed your whole childhood into adulthood from your Ma and Pa, an emotion you carry in your heart for each of them, though the way you experience it now, the strength in which it has grasped onto your very being – and so suddenly – has been enough to make the room spin whenever you lay your eyes on him. The idea of taking a husband has never been one of priority. Up until now, at least.

“Many thanks for the delicious meal, miss. I am grateful you have welcomed me into your home as such,” Ezra says as he stands, helping you take the soiled dishes to the wash basin.

“You have always been welcome, Mr. Prospect. I am glad you now feel comfortable joining us,” you say with a gentle smile, looking up at him as he approaches you with the dishes. You catch a faint hue of pink spreading across his sun kissed cheeks.

“Would you care for a pipe, Mr. Prospect?” Pa calls out as he sits in his chair by the fireplace, beginning to pack away tobacco in his own pipe.

“I very much appreciate the offer, sir, however I do not smoke,” Ezra replies kindly as he turns away from you to face Pa and you begin washing.

“Good man; do not start the nasty habit until you become old and worn as I am now,” Pa jests.

“I only see a wise man, years of strength and kindness the only evidence that you have lived a wonderful life thus far,” Ezra compliments and Pa releases a hearty laugh.

“As I said: ‘old’,” Pa replies and both Ezra and you laugh along.

The genuine and natural lightheartedness of the conversations Pa and Ezra shared tonight warms your heart and you realize tonight has been one of the few nights you’ve smiled so freely, so frequently, since Ma’s passing and you strongly sense her spirit surrounding the three of you. Almost as if you could hear her laughing along with you all.

Although a feeling of sadness lingers in your heart that she cannot be here physically, you remember Ezra’s kind words and let them ease you. The comfort you feel wash over you leaves you pondering if it’s a sign of acceptance from above, from Ma, that she welcomes Ezra’s presence amongst you and Pa.

“Can I be of any assistance, Sunflower?” Ezra turns and asks quietly, out of earshot of Pa and addressing you by his personal endearment he has bestowed upon you.

“Thank you for offering, Ezra,” you reply just as softly. His given name had nearly slipped from your lips on more than one occasion tonight, but you felt it best to remain coy in front of your father. “I’m nearly finished now.”

“Perhaps tomorrow night. I will not miss my chance then to be of service,” he smiles and the inside of your cheek stings from the bite you dealt to keep from grinning widely. “I will take my leave for the night. The lovely beasts I room with will be missing my presence, I fear,” he says, loud enough for Pa to hear as well and Pa chuckles at his statement.

“Always a pleasure to have you for dinner, Mr. Prospect,” Pa says and stands to shake Ezra’s hand. “Daughter, would you be so kind as to walk Mr. Prospect to the door?”

“Yes Pa,” you nod, abandoning the soapy dishes for the time being and you wipe your hands to dry on your apron as you head towards the door with Ezra.

Pa smiles again in Ezra’s direction as he walks past and takes his seat once again, watching the flames dance and flicker. Ezra opens the door, allowing you to walk through and step on the porch and he follows suit, shutting the door behind him.

“Shall I walk you to the barn?” You offer.

“No, Sunflower, I would prefer you to stay. The dark of night may carry with it many dangers lurking around the corner.”

“All the more reason I should walk with you,” you grin, wrapping your arms around the wooden support post as you watch him step down into the dirt.

“Then I would intend on escorting you back here and we will only find ourselves repeating the action for one another until daybreak,” he chuckles. “Until tomorrow, dear Sunflower.”

“Tomorrow,” you smile and nod. “Good night, Ezra.”

“Good night,” he bows his head in farewell and turns on his heels to head toward the barn. You linger a moment longer to assure he is well on his way, waving when he turns back to steal another glance at you.

You take a deep breath to calm your galloping heart and turn to walk back inside, Pa sitting quietly as he continues smoking. You head back to the wash basin to finish the chore, rinsing, drying, and putting away the dishes before heading over to sit next to Pa, grabbing a new book from your small collection.

You decided to leave Alice’s Adventures In Wonderland to read with Ezra under the tree and the image of the two of you lying in the grass as you read to him brings a contented smile to your face. After quite a bit of comfortable silence, you feel the curiosity inching through your brain like an insect and decide to give in to the itch.

“H-how are the crops faring, Pa?” You ask while picking at the corner of your book.

“They grow fine,” Pa replies simply. “Each and every week another inch to their lives added.”

“And… Mr. Prospect has been much help?” You continue carefully.

“Oh yes, he has taken on the majority of the labor. We are blessed that he sought to help us.”

“Yes,” you smile softly as you lower your head slightly, gathering the courage to continue the conversation. “And… How do you feel about… Mr. Prospect?”

“What do you mean, child?”

“The townspeople think him...odd.”

“They must reflect on themselves before passing that judgement onto an innocent man. Especially the four hens, as you like to call them,” you giggle and look up at Pa, a slight smirk hidden beneath his thick, grey beard as he lets out a deep chuckle.

“Yes, but… What do you think of Mr. Prospect?”

“Why the curiosity, daughter?” He asks, though no irritation is found in his voice; instead, a light-hearted tone, one of knowing. Knowing why you insist on finding out his opinion.

“Merely curious, Pa,” you say quietly, just loud enough for him to hear over the crackle of the fire.

“Hm,” he hums as he inhales smoke through his pipe, taking his time to retrieve an forthright answer from his mind while you gaze at him in anticipation.

“He is an honest man. Good and kind. A hard worker. I believe he is fit to be a lawful husband to any girl who seeks his affection,” he finally says, looking deep into your eyes and his words go straight to your fast beating heart.

You catch the smile on your face growing, evident in the strain you feel across your cheeks and you put your head down to face the book in your lap.

“That's nice,” you reply once you've cleared your throat and regained control of the muscles on your face.

“Yes. Yes it is,” Pa smirks as he inhales another puff from his pipe.

~MAY TENTH OF EIGHTEEN SIXTY-SEVEN~

Today is as exhilarating as the rest; you attempt to sort through the inventory of the shop, taking note of which supplies are dwindling while also marking down new items the townspeople have requested, such as candles and playing cards for the children. As you walk toward the back of the shop, beginning your count of products there, the shop bell dings and you hear boots stomping from whoever has stepped through the door.

“Just a moment, please,” you call out to the customer from over your shoulder, hoping not to lose track of the count in your head.

“Please, do not rush, Sunflower,” a gentle, familiar voice replies and you feel your heart thumping faster in your chest now as you turn quickly, inventory be damned.

“Ezra,” you greet the man standing meekly at the front of the shop. He takes a few steps forward to meet you beside the counter. “What brings you to town? Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Oh, no thank you, Sunflower. I needed to send a letter off at the post and thought that my day would be much brighter were I able to visit you as well,” he says with a soft grin and you lower your head to hide the bashful expression on your face.

“Well, my day has brightened now, too,” you reply, gaining the courage to look up at him again, the apples of his cheeks reddening. “I trust you were promptly taken care of then?”

“Yes, Mr. Williams is a kind man,” he nods. “The elderly woman who works there as well – she is quite the conversationalist,” he releases a soft laugh.

“Ah, yes. Mrs. Williams,” you shake your head. “She actually does not work there, just adores to be in the center of it all,” you jest and Ezra chuckles. “I do hope she was not too overbearing.”

“Only slightly,” he shrugs. “After you and your Pa, her and Mr. Williams have treated me the kindest since my arrival.”

“Oh Ezra,” you share a perturbed look. “I am truly sorry for the way the town has behaved.”

“Sunflower, you have no reason whatsoever to apologize for the actions of others. Unfortunately, this town has not been the most unpleasant I’ve come across. I was very lucky to have found you. And your Pa,” he rushes the last phrase and you smile knowingly, his mouth curving slightly as well.

You open your mouth to continue the conversation, the innocent coquetry between you, yet no sounds are released from your mouth before the shop bell dings again and you sigh at the interruption. You turn your head and your racing heart, caused by Ezra’s presence, races faster, only in anger now.

“And what do we have here?” Silas’s booming, uninvited voice resonates through the shop. “What business could a queer like you have to conduct in town?” He looks at Ezra and you step in front of him.

“I told you not to call him that, Silas.”

“It does not seem he’s made any purchase,” he says, making a show of looking in Ezra’s hands for any paper bag. “Yet he is allowed to stay and converse while you toss me in the dirt.”

“Go away, Silas.”

“Sunflower-” Ezra calls gently from behind you, unable to finish his thought.

“‘Sunflower’?!” Silas laughs. “She does not need a freak to endear her, not when she has a real man. Like me.”

“Silas, he is more of a man than you could ever hope to be,” you spit out.

Of all the times you had the opportunity to speak your mind to Silas, you held back. Though, now that it is directed to Ezra, you feel that innate protectiveness for him wash over you again, no matter the cost or consequence.

“You dare say such a thing to me, girl?” Silas takes a menacing step forward.

“She is not a girl and you will not speak to her as one,” Ezra moves to stand in front of you now. “And I do believe she has requested for you to take your leave.”

“And exactly who will force me out? You?” Silas puffs out his chest, as if he were attempting to assert his role as an alpha, and frustration grows on his face at Ezra’s lack of response to the tactic.

“If I must.” Ezra replies simply and calmly, the tone of his voice even, though underneath lies a hidden message that he would not back down from a brawl, if it were to come to that.

“Ezra, please, he isn’t worth it,” you say softly, reaching out to hold his forearm.

“Oh, aren’t I?” Silas scoffs.

“I will summon Sheriff Wilson here to collect you himself if you do not leave my shop right this instant,” you hold your unyielding gaze to Silas’s, raising your chin slightly so as to challenge him to defy your wishes.

Silas hmph’s, his thick brows arching menacingly as he glances down at where your hand rests firmly on Ezra’s arm, clearly displeased at the contact. You feel Ezra’s form tense next to you, and you use your free hand to lightly press against his back in an effort to calm him.

“Fine,” Silas finally says harshly as he turns his back to you and Ezra and stomps to the door.

He looks over his shoulder one more time at the two of you and something about his animalistic eyes sends a nasty shiver down your spine. Before he can see you falter, he rips the door open, walks through, and slams it shut, rattling the frame as he leaves. You exhale shakily and Ezra turns his body to face yours, his hands gripping onto your upper arms as his eyes rake over your face in concern.

“Are you alright, Sunflower?”

“Oh Ezra,” you gaze at him thoughtfully. “It should be me asking you that same question.”

“Please, don’t worry about me. My only concern is you,” he continues, his eyes trying to follow yours as you look away from him. “Does he come here unannounced often? Has he bothered you before?”

“Ezra, he has always been a thorn in my side, but it is nothing for you to concern yourself with. I promise,” you look in his eyes, hoping to convince him, but you suspect it does not work and his hands fall from your arms.

“Sunflower… I did not appreciate the way he looked at you and spoke to you.”

“It’s alright Ezra, it is not anything I can’t handle,” you smile and grasp one of his hands in both of yours, squeezing it gently as reassurance.

You’re unsure of what to say. What could you say? That up until now you have been cowardly when it came to Silas Taylor? That it was not until Ezra’s arrival to town that you have come to know a stronger side of yourself, willing to risk your already frail reputation to defend this man’s name?

Ezra sighs heavily, staring into your eyes a moment longer before looking away. You watch his eyebrows crinkle together, the worry wrinkles along his forehead becoming more prominent as he reflects on the situation that just passed.

“Are you alright? Please… Do not take anything he says to heart,” you say softly and your kind voice pulls him back from his thoughts and to this moment with you. He smirks and huffs a chuckle through his nose.

“No fear, Sunflower. It is not a trial I cannot handle,” he cocoons your hands in both of his and squeezes lightly, as if to reassure you he is alright. “I will go now, Sunflower.”

“I understand,” you nod. “Then… I will see you back at the farm for supper.”

He smiles to acknowledge your words, releasing your hands and heading to the door. He turns once more to nod his goodbye, places his hat back on his head, and walks out the door. You walk to the front of the shop to watch him through the window, his hands in his pockets and his shoulders slumped forward as he walks swiftly to leave the area.

Your head feels on fire, ready to blow steam at any moment as you watch the townspeople around staring at him. They turn to each other, presumably whispering gossip amongst themselves about him. Unfortunately, as you have come to know Silas, you know he will be spreading word of the ‘threat’ he felt from Ezra, which you surmise will only result in the townspeople turning their backs on Ezra even further.

~MAY TWELFTH OF EIGHTEEN SIXTY-SEVEN~

Ezra had not shown up for supper that night or the night that followed. You had wanted to take supper to him, but Pa advised against it. He had heard on his last trip to town what transpired between you, Ezra, and Silas. You prepared yourself to, once again, defend Ezra, however, Pa’s unabated rancor of Silas all but guaranteed Pa would not believe a word from his mouth.

Pa informed you that when he returned and asked Ezra about the situation, he assured the man that he was not at risk of losing the job at the farm, and while he was grateful, he did not wish to speak on it further. Pa told you to leave him to gather his bearings and you complied.

On your way to the oak tree, you pick two apples as you had done the Sunday prior, and to your earnest disappointment, you do not see Ezra as the tree comes into view. You look left, then right, hoping it was possible he had just walked along the riverbank, but you were alone.

Heaving a sigh, you turn to face the way you came as you debate on heading back. Your weekly tradition almost seemed silly to continue alone, after having been in Ezra’s company the past few weeks. It almost felt...incorrect to spend time here without Ezra now. You take a few steps forward, now under the shade of the tree, sparing another moment in case you missed him.

“Sunflower,” his elated voice from above frightens you and you quickly turn your head to follow the sound, seeing his bright smile from where he sits on a thick branch.

“Ezra! You startled me!” You chuckle as you take a few breaths, covering your racing heart with your hand.

“My apologies,” he chuckles. “I did not hear you walk up otherwise I would have made my presence known sooner.”

“I did not expect to see you in the tree today,” you smile up at him.

“Come, join me,” he smiles, patting the bark to the side of him.

“I have not climbed a tree since I was a child, Ezra. I will fall,” you shake your head.

“I will never let you fall, Sunflower,” he smiles and your now settled heart begins to race again. “It’s simple, really. Nothing to it. I will guide your steps.”

You take a deep breath, pondering for a moment if the risk was truly worth it, but there’s an excitement in this small adventure that you feel your soul reaching for. You smile at Ezra and nod, removing your bag and placing it at the base of the tree.

You follow Ezra’s voice commands as he tells you where to step up and you use more muscles in your body than you have in so long. You heave yourself upwards, careful that your boots do not miss any section of the tree that will have you flying all the way back down.

Finally, you make it far enough for Ezra to take hold of your arm, using his strength now to help pull you up until you’re close enough to attempt to sit. He scoots over, keeping his hand tightly grasped on your arm to make sure you don’t fall. Though, at this point, if you were to fall, Ezra would certainly fall with you.

You plant your bottom firmly onto the branch, breathing heavily and smiling widely at the accomplishment and Ezra chuckles along with you. You try to settle yourself further and suddenly get the sense of falling, reaching out instinctively to hold onto Ezra’s arm and you practically glue yourself to his side for support.

“You will not fall, Sunflower,” he reassures and you feel him lean closer into you to comfort you.

“Pardon me,” you giggle, feeling steady enough now to remove yourself from him. You take a deep breath and look out ahead at the river and the grassland, spotting the other farms in the distance. “Wow,” you say breathlessly. “It’s a beautiful sight.”

“Yes, it is,” Ezra responds softly. You turn your head to him where you already meet his gaze and turn away again as you smile.

“Oh no,” you gasp as your eyes meet your bag down below. “I left the book… And the apples,” you turn to frown at Ezra.

“Do not fret, Sunflower,” he smiles. “I enjoy your company regardless.”

“Maybe...you could read me more of your prose?” You prod gently, hoping he will be willing.

“Yes,” he says wistfully as he glances down at his journal. “I do like when you read to me, however.”

You smile as he passes his journal to you and you cradle it with care in your hands. You move to open it and the binding opens automatically to one page, clearly still stiff from where he had it open, this addition to the pages only written just recently. You clear your throat and let your eyes dance as they pick up the words in his neat handwriting.

“‘A being from a different universe desires to live amongst the men in peace on Earth, for his purpose to be written in the stars. A nomad, an outcast on the run, desperate for a residence more suitable than his dreams. Soon, he will find home, and soon, he will find life’,” your voice trails towards the end of the passage, your heart wrenching at the meaning behind it.

“Ezra…” You call softly once you notice his head has lowered.

The silence stretches and you can almost visualize it expanding across the lands in front of your view, any helpful or comforting words escaping from your reach. The only conclusion your mind seems to come to is just to place a hand softly on his thigh. You feel his muscle twitch at the contact and he glances over at you, a light tint of pink beginning to spread across his cheeks.

You suddenly feel embarrassed to have placed your hand there and you immediately think to yourself that perhaps it was not welcomed, though before you can remove your hand, Ezra places his own, large and warm, over yours. Your mind settles while your heart beats rapidly. You still do not know what to say, but it does not seem Ezra is expecting for you to say anything at all.

“I’ve missed you at supper, Ezra,” you whisper and grin softly.

“Forgive me for my absence, I was not… I did not feel…” You sense him struggling as he lowers his head again and you place your other hand on top of your intertwined ones.

“I understand; you have no need to apologize.”

He looks at you again and you give him a reassuring smile and he returns the gesture. You two say nothing and let the comfortable silence blanket the air around you while you gaze out to your surroundings again, your hands not leaving each other’s grasp.

“Sunflower?” He calls and you turn to face him again.

“Yes, Ezra?”

“I’ve missed you as well.”

Chapter Four || Chapter Six

Series || Main || Taglist || AO3

Tags: @the-ginger-hedge-witch @asta-lily @honeymandos @pascalpanic @aliwritesfic @mandocrasis @hnt-escape @winter-fox-queen @sarahjkl82-blog @day-off-inkyoto @pedrocentric @astoryisaloveaffair @amandalovess @foli-vora @lucrezia-thoughts @chasingdreamer @quica-quica-quica @pedro4ever @mishasminion360 @wardenparker @librariantothejedi @fan-of-encouragement @javierpinme @writeforfandoms @ew-erin @you-got-me-starry-eyed @beskarboobs @andiesturgss @maryfanson @princessxkenobi @castleamc @magpie-to-the-morning @pbeatriz @radiowallet @stevie75 @honestly-shite @bison-writes @amneris21 @disgruntledspacedad

Ezra Prospect Tags: @quietpainter @grogusmum @tenderwhat

#ezra x f!reader #ezra x reader #ezra x you #ezra prospect x f!reader #ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect x you #ezra au #ezra prospect au #ezra prospect fanfiction #ezra prospect fanfic #pedro pascal character fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #prospect #prospect fanfiction

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elisela · 3 years ago

Text

above the ground (ao3) buck x eddie, 1.3k, domestic fluff, trees of vermont for the second day of @eddiediaz‘s birthday week celebration!

The first time Eddie catches Buck staring up at the trees in the backyard he’s just finished pulling all the yellow tile out of their bathroom, plaster dust still coating his arms. Buck had heaved a box full of the cracked clay into the outdoor garbage can, turned to walk back to the house, and just—stopped. “You good?” he asks, and Buck visibility shakes himself out of his reverie.

“Yep,” he says, glancing down at Eddie’s empty hands. “Was that the last of it?”

“Still another pile,” Eddie says, and follows behind him when Buck claps him on the shoulder and pushes past him on the way back into the house.

The second—and third—time they’re barbecuing. Or, well, they aren’t, but Bobby is, taking over their backyard because theirs is being reseeded. Eddie’s not doing much of anything; the kids are running around the yard, Buck and Chim are in the middle of dragging Bobby’s patio table over so they all have places to sit, Karen is swatting at Athena’s hand when she reaches into the salad bowl to pinch an olive between her fingers.

Buck drops into the chair next to him after the table placement is approved by Hen, threading their fingers together with an easy sigh and accepting the cold bottle Eddie hands him gratefully. His head is tipped back, eyes trained on the far corner of the yard, one of the corners of his mouth pinched thoughtfully.

“Planning something?” Eddie says, because he knows that look. That’s the look that caused them to strip and restain all the hardwood floors downstairs the weekend before, the look that preceded Buck’s proposal that they rip out the out-of-place island in the kitchen, take out the crappy wire shelving in the pantry and replace it with wood, and while they’re at it, Buck’s never liked the placement of the refrigerator anyway.

“Maybe,” Buck says. He sounds far away, and Eddie wonders what havoc he’ll bring to the house now.

“Cool,” is all he says. There hasn’t been anything Buck’s done that he hasn’t liked—fish scale tile in Christopher’s bathroom aside, because that was one hundred percent his son’s choice. “You know where the credit card is.”

In retrospect, he shouldn’t have been surprised when he comes home a week later and there’s a pile of lumber sitting in the corner of the backyard.

The plans for the treehouse are stretched across Buck’s desk, and Eddie runs his fingers over the detailed sketch, the trunk of the tree it’s all built around. If he’s reading it right, it’s meant to be just fifteen feet off the ground, an octagonal structure with a deck that faces the backyard, an enclosed room at the back, a staircase that spirals up to it.

“I would have put it up higher, but I had to work around city ordinances,” Buck says from behind him. He’s leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed loosely over his chest. “That’s as tall—and as big—as I could make it without applying for waivers.”

“This is amazing,” Eddie says, glancing back at the plans. “I didn’t even know Chris wanted a treehouse.”

Buck huffs out a laugh. “Well,” he says, “he hasn’t said anything to me, either. But one of his classmates was talking about backyard camping and how cool it would be to have a treehouse to live in during the summer, and the look on Chris’ face—I just thought it would be pretty easy to give him.”

Eddie’s going to marry this man. “You need help with it?”

“Yeah, but I’m not sure when we’ll get started. I called an arborist—don’t look impressed, it was Bobby’s idea, he said we should get the whole yard checked before any more trees decide to crash through the roof—and I’m waiting to schedule with them. Don’t wanna start building before I know if the tree can hold it.”

“Chris is gonna be thrilled,” Eddie says. “But I hope you know that you’re the one sleeping out there with him. I’ve done my time sleeping outdoors.”

Buck laughs and pulls him close. “He’s almost eight, Eds. Let him and Denny go out on their own, and we can have some fun in here.”

Eddie pauses, hands on Buck’s warm, solid side. “You know he’s gone for the next few hours, right?”

Buck still closes the door behind them.

Maybe Eddie should be over a shirtless and sweaty Buck, but it’s a sight he never wants to drag his eyes away from. The last weeks of summer have been blisteringly hot, so naturally Buck decided that it would be the best time to build.

Eddie has no complaints—except when Chim starts calling him over to help.

They’d started early, driving a rented lift into the backyard just after sunrise so they could get the frame built out around the tree. Eddie had done his part by staying out of the way and making sure there were enough bagels to satisfy even Buck’s insatiable hunger, picking up lunch from Bobby’s when they took a mid-day break, and was about to disappear again when Chim called his name.

“Eddie,” he says, hands on his hips fifteen feet up, straddling two of the cross-sections that radiate from around the tree, “getting the base down would go a lot faster if you could hoist the planks up to us.”

In the end, Eddie is almost as sweaty as they are, arms pleasantly sore in a way they haven’t been in a very long time.

The build takes three days; they finish the round base and railing on the first day, the staircase takes them all of Sunday, and Buck is antsy all week, never getting home early enough to get started on the enclosed section without losing the light. Christopher walks up the stairs daily, spreading himself out on the base and laughing when Eddie aims the hose up at him.

Buck’s up at daybreak the next weekend, the sound of hammering waking Eddie from what had been a good dream. He’d made Eddie promise not to let Chris watch the progress, so as soon as Chim knocks on the door, Eddie takes Chris and leaves, spends the day running errands and waiting for Buck to give them the all clear, a text that doesn’t arrive until it’s nearly dinner time.

He picks up pizza on his way home, tries not to laugh at the way Chris bypasses the front door and goes immediately around the side of the house, yelling for Buck as he does. Eddie slows his steps—he knows Buck and Chris are already bonded, that they love being around each other, but he wants to give them a moment that’s just for them after Buck has done something so incredibly huge for his son.

Chris is already in the enclosed section when he makes his way up the staircase, and it’s nothing like he had imagined. This isn’t the cheap, hastily built treehouses he’d seen while looking for houses—it’s like a log cabin up in a tree, and although he can see the exhaustion in Buck’s body as he walks around with Chris, the only expression on his face is the excitement that’s mirrored on Christopher’s.

“Buck says we can sleep up here tonight!” Chris says excitedly, tugging on his hand. “I’m gonna go pack my stuff!”

“Air mattresses are less comfortable than I remembered,” Buck says much later that night, after Chris had already dropped off to sleep. “Maybe we should get real beds in here.”

“Maybe you were right about letting him be on his own,” Eddie says, linking their fingers together. It’s far from the worst place he’s slept, but Eddie’s a creature of comfort now. “We can give them walkies to check in. I’m calling Hen first thing tomorrow.”

#may's birthday week celebration #buddie #buddie fic #vermont baby!#evan buckley #eddie diaz #domestic fluff #may i hope you have an AMAZING day!

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drazavonia · 4 years ago

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Luxu's History Repeats Itself

Speculation/Theory:

Luxu's role was to past down the No Name keyblade to be succeeded over and over again until it ended up in the hands of the one who would summon Kingdom Hearts. But, part of that role was for Luxu to observe and watch over the course of the Keyblade's journey.

We see this from BBS to KH3 chronologically, where he became the right hand man of Xehanort and Xemnas to help push forward his plans to reenact the Keyblade War.

If Luxu bestows the keyblade upon "one of the five", then his first host has to either accompany them to their next worldline or be at their side consistently similar to how he does with Xehanort.

Because of this criteria, the first successor of No Name can't be Skuld, Ventus or Lauriam because they were sent forward in time, so the Master's eye couldn't record anything.

That leaves Ephemer and Brain.

Somehow Ephemer's heart is displaced and resided in the Keyblade Graveyard for who knows how long, so even if he inherited No Name, the keyblade couldn't record anything of significance and there'd be no need for Luxu to body hop.

I think Luxu will most likely bestow the No Name Keyblade to Brain. This makes the most sense given everything we know so far.

Brain is the only Union leader yet to have a "confirmed" fate as of KH3/KHUX. However, that means he's the only leader left to guide the Dandelions and keep the keyblade legacy alive.

In Dark Road and KH3, we can see No Name mounted on a crest in Master Odin's classroom. This means Brain continued the succession of the No Name Keyblade and throughout all of it's wielders till now, the Book of Prophecies was able to be born.

Brain being the new "king" of Scala ad Caelum would explain why he, Eraqus and any of his lineage are blue-bloods.

After the latest update, this would mean he has both Master Defender and No Name in his arsenal. Ironically Eraqus who's completely unlike Brain inherited his keyblade and his best friend who behaves just like Brain inherited the keyblade given to him second. In kh3 Xehanort tells Eraqus "When the world needs a defender, they'll pick you Eraqus." Eraqus received Brain's first keyblade (the first choice), while Xehanort got Brain's second keyblade.

"Speculation": If Yen-sid was referring to the Union Leaders and the Dandelions when he mentioned the "Ancient Keyblade Masters", then "crossing over to another world" might refer to them migrating into the Data-Daybreak Town.

However,

following up on the notion that Luxu has to observe Brain and No Name in one of the secret reports (Luxu states "Amidst the chaos I bequeathed my Keyblade to one of the Union leaders, just as the Master instructed. I watched as the Five were sent to another worldline-at no small cost-ensuring the line of Keyblade wielders will live on."), then Luxu would have to crossover to the Unreality/Other worldline alongside him.

It seems as though the Union leaders will somehow get sucked into another datascape/worldline/Unreality. If this is the case, it's possible that Luxu actually does bequeath the keyblade to any one of the five, and then something happens, and they're forced to leave the keyblade behind for Brain to take in their stead. Luxu has to keep an eye on Brain, but if he is moving to an unknown world with possibly unknown assailants, it can't be that easy to just sit back and watch like he did originally as they were repeating the original worldline in the Datascape.

Well, we have already seen how Luxu went about observing the most recent inheritor of No Name, Master Xehanort. Luxu possessed a man by the name of Braig, becoming Xehanort's right-hand man under the guise of "a fool desirous of the keyblade". Afterwards he harbored a piece of Xehanort's heart and stuck by his side from BBS to KH3.

"Luxu's History Repeats Itself", as in Luxu casted off his original form and resided in the heart of another to watch Brain, or even better, remain at his side the same as Xehanort in the future.

Luxu will inhabit the body of Ephemer and stand with Brain within the Unreality.

The two scenarios that I can think of (can be different or sequential) :

Luxu chose to reside within Ephemer's heart silently, the same way Eraqus had done to Terra. Eraqus's light as well as his "signature chains" were able to support Terra's fight against Xehanort within himself. It is possible if Ephemer gets into a jam that Luxu could help him from within as well.

Luxu may have chosen to completely dominate Ephemer's heart and push him out, the same way Xehanort did to Terra, in order to become Terra-Xehanort. Ephemer's heart would be lost, possibly traversing to the Keyblade Graveyard. He has been watching them for a long time, so it's possible he may be able to imitate Ephemer well enough for no one to suspect anything.

The second option seems way too unlikely. The Master told Luxu he could help, but probably not to interfere and make his presence known. Also, Luxu seemed especially worried about the Dandelions, to the point where the Master compared him to "a mother hen(?)". It would seem pretty messed up (at that point) for him to straight up take Ephemer's existence like that.

I think Darkness will separate Ephemer's heart from his body, infecting it and birthing his Dark Inferno much like Ventus.

*This has been addressed already, but Ephemer and Braig share the red scarf motif and kinda similar outfits.

A better example is probably Terra again. Ephemer's heart would be the Guardian(Terra) to Luxu's Terra-Xehanort.

"The History" being referred to are the groups Luxu has been apart of:

Ephemer/Luxu = Xigbar

The Overseer

Brain = Xehanort

The Inheritance

Ventus/Darkness = Ven/Vanitas

The Harbinger of Darkness

Lauriam = Terra

RAGE AWAKENED

Skuld = Aqua

The True Successors

Strelitzia = Eraqus (?)

Felled by Darkness

(Skuld is compared to Ava & Aqua was the only student made into a master.)

*This is from like two months ago.

#kingdom hearts #kingdom hearts union x #kingdom hearts birth by sleep #kingdom hearts 3 #ephemer #brain #ventus #skuld #lauriam #strelitzia #luxu #xigbar #Xehanort #vanitas #aqua #terra #Eraqus

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deathleadsarc · 3 years ago

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@thefatalmarksman sent: 💋👀

The first 5 Asks to send 💋 get a kiss | 2/5

“ Good Morning, Lulu. ”

How blessed it is to hear those words fall from her lips each morning, even in soft whispers, and all the more heavenly to greet his eye. Never had she imagined in these past centuries that she would have been so divined as to greet her lover in such a manner, to have brought him into the world and... while having lost him before, now able to partake in such human rituals with nary a worry at all that they will be parting again. So blessed, it leaves her nearly inarticulate at each instance they pass by one another.

When had she become so twitterpated? In the way that he strides toward her, Luxu's every cocky retort and attitude as hot as summer - no, it must have been in the way that he kissed her. Or in that daybreak when the sun begins to crest through wood shades, spilling across the sensitive eyelids, beckons the velvet soft lips to caress him into wakening. They press carefully, along the lines of his scar, lips never parting from flesh and only trailing happily along. Hums along those tracks, singing him gently from his sleep, her chest heaving slow but rested against an equally heavy body.

Her fingertips brush along the shore of ravens wing strands, sinking her touch further along until unquestionably vanished in their blanket of soft. Watching. Kissing and guarding. Religious observance 'pon the finely sculpted visage that had just been watching her from above - ahhh musn't be thinking on those nasty fancies... she had just showered and only returned to bed to warm herself up again.

They needed breakfast. He needed breakfast, and after a night like that he deserved it. When Luxu was finally fully conscious, she boldly pressed her lips to his once more. A good morning, how-do-you-do, and thank you all in one. Pecking him as if smacking each and every pore with her lips, smiling so broadly when that melodious giggling is her returned 'thanks'. Beautifully renditioned, the only piece she'd ever wish to listen to the rest of her life.

“ Why don’t we get breakfast started, hm? You sit and fiddle with that tello - vision and I will cook... Now, where do you keep your eggs? I noticed you don’t have a hen house or anything similar... You do have eggs, don’t you? ”

#thefatalmarksman #answered #🜃 He was soon borne away by the waves and lost in darkness and distance | IMMORTAL LOVERS #i was gonna q it but i see u awake so : )

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plus-size-reader · 5 years ago

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Daybreak

Ambrose Spellman x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1547 words

Warnings: none

Summary: Reader goes to the Spellman house for a sleepover with Sabrina and bonds with her cousin Ambrose.

———————————————————————————————————

You and Sabrina had sleepovers all the time.

You were her only witchy friend so it was safe to have you around her house and her family enjoyed your company as well. In fact, you arguably spent more time with Sabrina and her family then you did with your own.

That being said, it was no surprise when you came through the Spellman's front door, dragging a bag behind you that was probably full of everything you owned.

You were greeted instantly by Salem who rubbed against your ankle before disappearing into the hallway. He was followed closely by your best friend in the entire world, a platinum blonde Sabrina.

"Took you long enough" she teased, taking your bag from you and heading up to her bedroom.

The night was full of laughter, gossip, and magic talk and it was no secret to anyone in the house that you two were having a good time.

Ambrose knew that better than anyone considering his bedroom was down the hall from Sabrina's and you two were cackling like hens. Luckily for him, the sound of your laughter was one of the most beautiful things he'd heard in at least a decade.

In truth, everything about you was stunning and he had never felt that way about any man, woman, or person on the planet before. He'd fallen in love plenty of times but never like he had with you.

The only problem was that you didn't and couldn't know that he had those feelings about you. He was Sabrina's cousin, and you were her best friend in the entire world, it just couldn't work out.

That being said though, Ambrose would be lying if he said that he hadn't thought about being with you.

You woke up at daybreak, nearly beating the sun in the morning but Sabrina was still passed out next to you. She had always been more of a night owl and she probably wouldn't be up for a few more hours.

However, once you'd woken up, there was no more sleep to be had. So rather than spend hours waiting for her to wake up in silence in her room, you decided to go exploring around the Spellman mortuary.

Your footsteps were quiet, for the most part, against the wood floor and other than that, the house was silent. Hilda and Zelda weren't even up yet and the last thing you wanted to do was be the one to wake them up.

The house was beautiful early in the morning because it was so dark and stunning in aesthetic but filled with light, it glowed.

It was amazing.

So amazing in fact that you didn’t realize that you were no longer alone in the large entryway.

At some point in your admiring, Ambrose had gotten up and was now standing at the top of the stairs, looking down at you with a sleepy smile on his face. Sleepy sure, but in no way blind to the beauty that was you, first thing in the morning.

“Good morning little witch” he grinned, using the nickname he’d given you as children. It was a terrible nickname and sort of cheesy but you’d always allowed it because of that way it made him laugh when he said it.

You sort of jumped at his sudden intrusion but didn’t shoo him away. You liked the idea of having some company in the morning, even if it wasn't Sabrina like you'd been expecting.

"Morning. What are you doing up so early?" you wondered, giving him a smile. It might have been early but you weren't upset about it.

The Spellman mortuary was a huge house but when you looked at Ambrose, it might as well have been the smallest place in the world. It was just the two of you, in that moment and you wouldn't have had it any other way.

Perhaps it was nothing more than a silly crush, but you'd always taken a liking to the man, who you spent quite some time with over the years.

He shrugged, as if he was always up at this time. Maybe he was, knowing Ambrose...he probably woke with the sun. You accepted his answer, but weren't quite ready to end the conversation.

Instead, you had another idea.

"Would you like to join me on my morning walk?" you hummed, unsure if he would accept or not. You hoped that he would, but there was never any way to know for sure. He might have had something to do, or maybe he just didn't want to go.

In any case, you wouldn't have been destroyed if he declined your offer.

Still, you couldn't help the buzz that went through you when he nodded. You had been hoping for that, deep deep down...not that you'd ever admit it.

The morning air was crisp and clean with every breath. The day was just breaking and the sun peaked through the trees more and more as you made your way toward the graveyard.

It was your favorite place to watch the day begin, which was kind of poetic. This was where most people went when they met their end, but for you, the morning felt wrong without it.

You liked it.

It made you feel at peace, and in some weird way, Ambrose agreed. It was nice, silent and still in a way that reminded you just how alive you all were.

"You do this every morning?" he asked, reaching out to take your hand in his in your own as you walked. He'd never actually seen you this early when you were over, but it wouldn't have surprised him if you did.

This seemed like something you would do often, especially since you seemed to have the route all mapped out in your mind.

It was kind of awesome, that you found so much peace in a place meant for death. You found your reflection and your happiness surrounded by the dead, and Ambrose could appreciate that.

He similarly lived his life mostly around corpses and the same few people. It was nice to know that it was possible, at least for someone, to embrace it.

Perhaps you could help him learn to enjoy his life...even under the restrictions that he had.

“I do, every morning that I’m here” you grinned, swinging his hand in your own as you walked. You were so happy to just be there with him, and it felt nice.

It was rare that you two actually got to spend time together but now that you were in the middle of it, you were so glad that he’d agreed to walk with you.

“I wish I’d have known, I’d have joined you much sooner” he allowed, looking over at you with that slight smile on his face.

It was clear that he had something on his mind, but you had no idea what it was. How were you meant to actually know what he was thinking? This was Ambrose after all, the man who kept his every feeling under lock and key.

You two weren’t the most open to begin with, but this was something else entirely.

“What is it?” you wondered, stopping between two stones to give him your full attention. You weren’t going to move until he told you what he had going on...and in all honesty, he knew it.

It had always been this way with you.

And in truth, it was probably better to just rip off the bandage as quickly as possible.

“You're truly beautiful" he smiled, reaching up with one hand to brush a little bit of your hair behind your ear. Your eyes sparkled as you looked at him, comprehending what he was telling you.

For some reason, there was no shock on either end as he said it.

There had been this clear connection between you both that just remained unspoken but something about this morning seemed like the right time to bring it to life.

You two were almost meant to be together. Everyone had been expecting it since the moment you meet but you just weren't ready to the time.

Now, there was nothing holding you back.

"Ambrose?" you whispered, both of you still staring into one another's eyes, the space between you getting smaller and smaller with each second.

He hummed, not wanting to ruin the moment. Withing missing a beat, he leaned down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss.

It was gentle and full of love and you could have been in that moment for the rest of your life without a single complaint.

You wondered how you'd been able to go this long without this feeling.

"Yes darling?" he smiled, clearly amused with himself for catching you off guard. It felt like he'd been waiting years to feel this alive, and he could only hope this this would change the way you two interacted from now on.

He didn't want to ever give this up, now that he'd had it.

"We should take walks like this ever morning" you grinned, pulling him in for another kiss after a giggle.

Whatever it was that had sparked this momentous morning, you were sure that there was no going back, for either of you.

#ambrose spellman #ambrose spellman x ps reader #ambrose spellman x plus size reader #caos #caos x ps reader #coas x plus size reader #the chilling adventures of sabrina #the chilling adventures of sabrina x ps reader #the chilling adventures of sabrina x plus size reader

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akilah12902 · 5 years ago

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Creature Feature: Harpy and Erynia

Not as annoying as sirens, but that’s about it for good things.

Hello everybody, today we’re going to be talking about harpies and their slightly tougher cousins, erynias.

Check the tags for your warnings and click read more for the rest!

Some are repulsed by rotfiends, other cannot stand tales of bullvores, but I find harpies, beasts of ugly temper and penchant for thieving, the worst of all. Fortunately, harpies prefer wild, mountainous areas, full of rocky ledges they can build their nests on. However they always establish themselves near a human settlement. This is done for thus simple reason that they wouldn't be able to steal much from animals.

There are many harpy species, and all are kleptomaniacs, though some steal dreams instead of baubles. They especially like dreams laden with strong emotions, such as nightmares that recur time and again. The harpies' victims lose such dreams - which is actually a blessing in the case of nightmares - and the beasts enclose them in crystals, creating items that strongly radiate magic. Mages desire the dreams stolen by these creatures, so much so that they breed harpies in order that they may filch their booty at daybreak. Yet it is rare for a stolen dream or nightmare to be powerful enough, or to come from a powerful enough creature, to satisfy a sorcerer.

As winged creatures, harpies attack swiftly, from a great distance, before their prey can notice them. After landing a blow, they flee for a safe spot. Pinning them to the ground and denying them flight is often the only solution. Thus incapacitated, they become as clumsy as hens. Stunned with a bomb, hit with the Igni or Aard Sign, the beasts prove easy to kill, especially with the fast fighting style.

The harpies' greatest strength is their ability to fly, but they can be grounded with the use of a trap. Because the creatures' wings are feathered, they are easily set aflame, so using the Igni Sign against harpies always has good results. The beasts have an excellent sense of direction and balance, and even when flailing about near the ground they can easily regain the sky, so attempts to knock them down are doomed to fail.

Witcher 2 Bestiary Entry

Most monsters don't actually keep any treasure in their lairs. Harpies, though - they like shiny things.

– Letho, Viper School witcher

It is hard to say what is most repulsive about harpies and their cousins, the shishigas: their hideous appearance, the overwhelming stench of rot and bird excrement that clings to them or their bloodcurdling screech. Suffice it to say that even rats, who dwell happily among the rankest fecal matter and rotten waste, give their nests wide berth.

Harpy nests are most often found atop high cliffs or rocky ravines. Sure signs of having strayed near one are crumbling human and animals remains, guano-streaked rocks and feathers littering the ground.

Harpies and shishigas hunt in flocks consisting of a handful to up to twenty individuals. Though rather cowardly and cautious, harpies fiercely defend their nests and will not hesitate to attack when outnumbering their foes.

During combat they use their ability to fly to dive[sic] swiftly to strike their victims one by one before soaring back up out of reach. They can kill with their wings or their sharp beak and talons. Once on the ground they move slowly and clumsily, and thus no longer present much of a threat.

Witcher 3 Bestiary Entry

Harpies are another Hybrid creature, although I can’t really imagine a point where you’d want to use the oil on them. They, like sirens, can be knocked out of the air (I prefer to use the crossbow in case they manage to recover) and killed in one hit when prone, or still probably just a few hits while they’re negotiating getting back into the air.

There’s a very misguided mage in the Hearts of Stone DLC who was attempting to raise harpies as a military battalion for Redania. He was, by the contents of his diary, almost completely delusional. The harpy eggs he acquired hatched into a number of spectacularly vicious babies, which did not show any indication of affection or any sign that they thought of him or his assistant as a parent, at all. He didn’t manage to actually train them to do anything, and they were so canny and nasty that they managed to deprive his assistant of all his fingers and, eventually, his life before breaking out, devouring the magician himself, and nesting in the tower.

Despite the injuries to his assistant, the mage is so foolish that he thinks the escaped harpies would be lying there outside too hungry to move.

...yeah.

At least the loot’s good.

#Witcher Creature Feature #Witcher #The Witcher #cw mutilation #mutilation #death #cw death #anthropophagy #cw anthropophagy

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margridarnauds · 6 years ago

Note

for the otp ask meme: ronan/peyrol and/or bres/sreng; 2, 9, 15

Thanks!

2. How do they wake up next to each other?

For Lazare and Ronan, it depends on the night. In the very early days, Lazare very rarely stuck around long enough for Ronan to really wake up to him, being gone at least an hour or so before daybreak, when Ronan tends to gets up. As time went on and he realized that it was important to give Ronan attention/affection, he grew to like it, liked the stability of having Ronan THERE and knowing that he was. Sometimes, they’ll fall asleep with Ronan settling his head into Lazare’s neck and they wake up like that. (And then the first thing Lazare’s aware of is Ronan playing with his hair, which he is never willing to admit that he likes.) Sometimes, one of them has a nightmare (generally Lazare, but as time goes on, Ronan gets his demons as well, and more than his fair share of ghosts) and startles, generally needing a little bit of time to relax before they try to go to sleep again. Sometimes, Ronan spreads out, taking up most of the bed (and the blankets). Sometimes, they wake up facing one another, legs entangled so that there’s real way to tell the two apart, and there’s a moment or so when they can think “Oh my God, we actually made it.”

Since Sreng is repeatedly referred to in-text as HUGE (The Fir Bolg’s description: ”For he is big and fierce, and bold to spy on hosts and interview strangers, and uncouth and terrifying to behold.” Bres’ description of him: “A big, powerful, fierce man…with vast, wonderful weapons, truculent and hardy withal, without fear of any man”) while Bres doesn’t get the same description, I tend to think that they have a height difference, so Bres just…..flops on top of him. Possibly slightly more dignified than that but still. Sreng makes a very nice, warm pillow and Bres has high standards for this kind of thing. And, barring anyone Bres flopping around, they probably wake up in a similar way, with Bres sometimes nuzzling against Sreng, especially post-Cath Maige Tuired when I think that Bres would become increasingly clingy.

9. When their partner has a bad day, what is something the other picks up to try and make their day a little better?

Ronan - Tends to get either coffee (Laz drinks STRICTLY black, in both the Modern and the Canon verse) and/or chocolate, depending on just how bad a day we’re talking about. (If Artois is anywhere in the vicinity, it’s a “both” kind of day.) @lehetsz-kiraly and I somehow decided a while ago that, like his Toho actor, Laz is a chocoholic. Albeit a very, very closeted one who tends to blame Ronan for the various and assorted chocolates that are stuffed around the house (Oka Kojiro is a delight to follow on Instagram but my GOD does the man love his sweets. And….every other type of food. Do NOT go on his account if you happen to have an empty stomach.) So, Ronan brings the chocolate and makes a BIG deal over not being able to finish it after 1-2 pieces and can’t just let it go stale, you know (because….subtlety….Ronan….they don’t match).

Also has been known to bring Lazare lunches to his office, on the days when he gets so engrossed in his work he forgets to eat, and tends to try to find ways of distracting him, because he knows that Lazare has the tendency of brooding on this sort of thing and generally just needs a way of getting away from it for a little while. (For all that he rags on Lazare for mother-henning him, he can be JUST as bad, being the one most statistically likely to make a nuisance of himself before Lazare gives in and takes care of himself. Ronan might have a bit of a puppy dog personality, but he has a cat’s habit of sitting on Lazare’s lap, blocking the keyboard, etc. when SOMEONE doesn’t listen.)

Laz - Lazare…tends to go casual, on the days when Ronan’s off. Not FULLY casual, because it’s still LAZ. We’re still not going to see him dead in, say, a pair of jeans, but he bends a little bit more. Fast food? He might cut his hamburger into tiny pieces and then poke at them like he’s a scientist working on a lab experiment, but he’ll do it. Lounging on the couch and watching Shape of Water with Ronan, despite claiming that he has no interest in this sort of thing? He’ll do it. And if seeing his boyfriend making that kind of effort for his sake doesn’t make Ronan cheer up at least a little, then seeing his awkward attempts at behaving like a Normal Functioning Human Being™ will.

Sreng - For some reason, I see Sreng as being much less…big on getting THINGS so much as reassuring Bres and being outwardly affectionate. Sreng’s odd because on one hand, he was born the son of a king and he grew up the brother of a king, until Fodbgen was killed by Eochaid mac Eirc. And, even then, he’s STILL described as being (along with his brothers Semne and Sithbrug) the Fir Bolg King of “The province of Cú Roi” (Modern Munster) when the Tuatha dé arrive, so he’s STILL in the upper, upper ranks of the nobility. Despite the “uncouth and terrifying to behold” description, this is NOT someone who’s exactly having to scavenge in the forest for his next meal. In some ways, he’s actually BETTER BORN than Bres, at least if we’re talking about the context of Cath Maige Tuired, since he’s IN with the tribe in a way that Bres ISN’T with the Tuatha dé (or, really, even with the Fomorians). But then, with the Tuatha dé’s victory, the Fir Bolg become unsettled, in at least some stories being reduced to refugees or servitude (AGAIN) and he loses a lot of that prestige, so he can’t really…PROVIDE that to Bres on the same level (Which…honestly, has to sting Sreng’s pride at least a little). All he can really provide is himself, and so he does. Like, Bres gets home and then he’s got Sreng gently rubbing his shoulders. Or he falls asleep in the middle of planning a strike against the Tuatha dé, face down on a table somewhere, and the next thing he knows, he’s waking up in his own bed, Sreng beside him, rubbing his back. During the CMT era in particular, Bres NEEDS that reassurance and that affection; he’s got the material help from his father, but he doesn’t have any SUPPORT except for his mother and Sreng. (Alright, and the kids, but they’re…his KIDS. He’s not going to tell the full truth to them, even when they’re Adults™.)

Bres - Bres totally brings the punny cards, in keeping with my ongoing theme of Dad Joke Bres. Sreng rolls his eyes, but he keeps them all anyway, in a small wooden chest that he keeps his “Things that I’ll take if I’m forced to move suddenly” in and looks at them when Bres can’t be there for one reason or another. Lugh intercepts them at one point and tries to run them through every. Single. Cipher and way of deciphering secret messages that he can, thinking there’s some hidden wordplay in there. Ogma is the one who has to gently break it to him that, no, Bres is just Like That, there is not actually a secret message written in invisible ink on there. Though the jury’s still out on whether any one of the Tuatha dé…realize EXACTLY what they mean. “They swore a vow of friendship long ago, Lugh”

15. Things they do for one another because they know their partner hates it?

In any modern AU where he can’t fall back on servants, Peyrol takes care of anything when it comes to cleaning and cooking. Partially because he knows Ronan hates it and partially because he is TERRIFIED of the results otherwise. (Modern AU Ronan can make ramen and various and assorted microwave meals and that is pretty much it. And Lazare wants his place to still be standing.)

Also in any AU where they stay together long enough to get pets, Lazare’s the one who tends to let them out, because even though he SAID that they were going to be Ronan’s primary responsibility, he couldn’t find it in himself to wake Ronan up the first time they started pawing at him to be let out.

Ronan tends to help Lazare with getting dressed, given that he’s never trusted a valet enough for that duty and it’s difficult for one person to do and even if he did, Ronan REALLY doesn’t necessarily want someone in the room with him and Lazare, no thank you, he didn’t have much privacy growing up but he’s not going to have a STRANGER seeing him half-naked at best with his boyfriend. And Lazare doesn’t want a giant neon sign that says “I’m gay, please report me to law enforcement.” He grumbles about the different layers, on why the aristocracy makes everything so complicated just to show off how rich they are, but he also loves having that intimacy.

Bres - This is cliche as fuck but do I care? No. No I do not. Bres tends to specialize in anything involving planning things; outfits, feasts, etc. He might HATE being social, but he likes the presentation of it. Whereas, as discussed below, Sreng’s better at the social aspect and less at the presentation. This did backfire on Sreng one Halloween when Bres had them go as Louis and Lestat. The 18th-19th century were BRES’ centuries, not Sreng’s.

Also, Bres tends to do better when it comes to taking care of animals. Not in a “sweet summer child laying in a field with puppies” way, but anything from the equipment to making sure Babgiter doesn’t chew up Sreng’s cloak again. (He has given a very stern lecture to the pig about this before. Babgiter didn’t look overly convinced.) In general, when it comes to agriculture, Bres excels, whereas Sreng is more fundamentally a warrior and an aristocrat. (I swear that I didn’t INTENTIONALLY wind up with another farmer/aristocrat duo, it just…happened.) I don’t really see Bres as being actively involved like ANOTHER farmer would be, because he’s still…a nobleman…albeit a very….unorthodox one, and for a nobleman to take up manual labor DRASTICALLY lowered his honor price, especially a former king like Bres, but he takes a more active management role, whereas Sreng isn’t really interested in it more than he has to be in order for his people to eat for another year. And, if Bres wants to take control of that aspect of things, GREAT. It keeps his boyfriend occupied in something that he loves for a change and it gives Sreng one less headache.

Sreng - Despite outwardly appearing like the less socially inclined of the pair, Sreng’s actually BETTER with dealing with people, in the long run. Bres…is a bit of a disaster when it comes to handling people according to their rank and sometimes lets his mouth run ahead of him, even after he becomes more mature and level headed following his expulsion from the throne, whereas Sreng….might not like them, but he also has a lifetime of experience as far as treating people as society says they need to be treated even if he collapses afterwards, so, any time the two of them are in a position where they have to deal with people, Sreng tends to field the most stress-inducing conversations. Though, when it comes to the family, Bres is on his own because Sreng does NOT want to deal with the Dagda or Bres’ terrifying aunts more than absolutely necessary. (Badb in particular tends to feel like she’s just waiting for the chance to tear him apart, black eyes never fully leaving him, and even though Bres assures him that that’s normal, Sreng’s oddly not convinced.)

Also, even though Bres loves his children FIERCELY and doesn’t hate spending time with them, there are times where he’s too exhausted to deal with six kids all clamoring for his attention, so Sreng’s been known to distract them. (AKA “How Indusa first learned how to handle a sword.”)

#1789 les amants de la bastille #irish mythology #bres mac elathan #sreng mac sengann #ronan mazurier #lazare de peyrol #fallenidol-453 #long post #otp: He would be troubled if you died on him

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izaswritings · 6 years ago

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Title: at last, sunrise

Synopsis: Rapunzel gets kidnapped, Varian gets adopted, and a couple of evil hoodlums get what’s coming to them. All in all, it’s a good day.

Notes: I mentioned in my fic daybreak of the victor that Rapunzel sees Varian as her little brother, and I kind of wanted to write more on that? So here, have this—fluff, humor, feels, and sibling bickering/bonding all in one.

I’ve said this before, but—as much as I adore writing character development, it is so nice to explore the after, too.

Didn’t edit this nearly as much as I usually do—please let me know if you catch any mistakes!! (Also, I’m always open for feedback or constructive criticism, so please, don’t be afraid to tell me if you think something doesn’t quite fit!)

This fic is a prequel to two other fics of mine, daybreak of the victor (which can be read here or here) and the problem with politics (which can be read here and here). You don’t need to have read these fics to understand this one, but it does provide some background for the fic!

AO3 Link for this fic is here.

The tunnels beneath Corona’s castle are the stuff of nightmares. No matter how many times Rapunzel has been here, they are unchanged. Dark, damp, and as frightening as they were the first time she stepped through them. They are lit by a ghastly green glow, thin and weak, barely illuminating the floors, and even an extra lantern cannot quite pierce through the darkness that surrounds them. They are always full of dust and cobwebs, danger lurking around every corner. They are mystery incarnate, holding secrets and threats Rapunzel can only guess at, a place of constant peril.

“Princess,” Varian says, from behind her, voice dark with irritation, “if you don’t stop laughing, I’m going to have to gag you.”

They are walking side-by-side in the tunnels, Varian holding the lantern above their heads to light their path. On Rapunzel’s shoulder, Pascal is nestled into the hood of her cloak. At the moment, none of them are quite looking where they are going— Varian is giving Rapunzel the stink eye, Pascal is having conniptions, and Rapunzel is currently dying.

“Oh!” Rapunzel says, and slaps a hand across her mouth. She can’t quite stop giggling, however. “Oh, Varian, but their faces!”

A smile twitches at Varian’s lips before he ruthlessly squashes it, scowling at her so forcefully it looks more ridiculous than threatening. In the light of his lantern, she can see his cheeks go pink. “Stop, stop it, I was improvising!”

“It is I, Varian! The Alchemist! Come to enact my revenge!” Rapunzel mimics, and has to stop, she’s laughing so hard. She places both hands on her knees and wheezes. Tears bead in her eyes. “Oh, Pete! Stan! I’m so sorry!”

Varian elbows her. “Stop laughing!” His cheeks are bright red, the tips of his ears burning. “I had to improvise, okay? I didn’t know they would come back right when I was sneaking you out! You said Cassie was keeping them distracted!”

“No, no, it was good, really!” Rapunzel insists, and clasps a hand to her mouth before she can burst into hysterical giggles all over again. “Very convincing!” she squeaks out through her fingers. Her voice is high and strained.

Varian gives her a disgruntled look, unconvinced. “Somehow I do not believe you. Why is that?”

Rapunzel takes a deep breath, shaking her head to get her laughter back under control. “Oh, I’m sorry, Varian, it’s just…” She bites her lower lip, grinning into the back of her hand at the memory.

He’s not wrong about Cassandra, she had promised to fill in—alas, Pete and Stan must have somehow slipped her notice. Varian had reacted very well, all things considered, and it probably would have been okay, dramatic speech and all, except… well. Varian hadn’t been wearing his alchemist’s mask at the time, and instead of intimidating, he’d just looked rather panicked. A bit like a startled rabbit, honestly.

In other words— Adorable.

“It was just… so… you,” Rapunzel decides finally.

Varian reels back at this, overblown offense on his face. He waves both hands in the air, the lantern swinging wildly in his grip. “What! What’s that supposed to mean?”

Rapunzel wavers her hand back and forth in a vague gesture. “Just… you.”

He scowls at this, turning his back on her with a dark mutter under his breath. He raises his voice, sounding peeved, not looking at her. “…This is a kidnapping, you know. I’m kidnapping you. Just so we’re clear.”

Rapunzel looks down at her unbound wrists and unchained feet, the frying pan at her side. She looks back at Varian, at the comically serious expression on his face, the near pout he is just barely biting back.

Her choice is instantaneous. Rapunzel sags dramatically against the wall, as if her knees have gone weak, Pascal bawling fake tears on her shoulder. “Oh!” she says, pitching her voice high and breathy in pretend terror. “You dastardly fiend! You have captured me! Taken my only means of escape! Whatever shall become of me!”

“Why is it, that you’ve only gotten more embarrassing with age?” Varian complains, but he’s grinning despite himself. He shakes his head and shoves at her shoulder. “C’mon, move it, we gotta go! We’re burning lantern-light here, night won’t last forever.”

Rapunzel fakes a stumble and Pascal gives a nice theatrical wail. “Ah!” Rapunzel says, pretending to cower at the wall. It takes everything she has to not cackle at the look on his face. “Don’t hurt me, dear sir! Mercy! Mercy on me!”

Varian stares at her for a long moment in contemplative silence. “I’m gagging you,” he decides finally, and Rapunzel laughs so hard she falls over.

See, it starts like this: the separatist group of Saporia decides to threaten war.

To be more precise—the Separatists gather up their weapons, terrorize a few villages, somehow manage to get an alliance with a neighboring kingdom (Damn it, King Trevor, Rapunzel thinks), and then they make an ultimatum: give us land or else.

Now, this would be a very serious and not-at-all laughing matter sort of situation, if the Separatists hadn’t done it in such a way that Rapunzel is helpless to do anything other than stare at the missive and say, “But… that’s… so stupid?”

“Honey, they’ve infiltrated our kingdom.”

“But we know their base?”

Her father sighs at her. “They want us to attack them, Rapunzel. They have the treaty with Equis for that reason. If we crush them publicly, as a kingdom, without a crime that King Trevor can’t excuse—well. Equis can retaliate. It will break into full-blown war.”

Rapunzel arches an eyebrow. “Then… don’t attack them publicly. We can send men in disguise!”

Her father crosses his arms. “How many men? They’ll know it’s us if we send an army. Trevor—” He practically growls the name, “—will immediately suspect. We can’t send more than two or three people, and we most certainly can’t do that.”

The solution to that, of course, is simple. “Send me,” Rapunzel says without thinking, and gets promptly banished to her room.

Thanks, Dad.

Sometimes he’s good at respecting her choices, Rapunzel thinks absently, tapping her quill against her lips as she writes her letter. Other times, her father can be rather exhausting.

The difference between now and then is that nowadays, Rapunzel had no more patience for it. Her father has forbidden her from infiltrating and taking out the Separatist group? Fine. She’ll just sneak out and do it herself.

Of course, it never hurts to have help.

It’s easy, grabbing a hold of Varian—easier than it would have been a few years ago, before he returned to Corona. All she has to do is borrow Owl and send him off with a message, and then she meets Varian in a secret location a few days later. He always comes, when it is Rapunzel asking; she suspects lingering guilt.

Two days after she sends the message, she arrives at the Snuggly Ducking, a usual meeting place of theirs. Varian is already there waiting. He stands the moment he sees her, walking quickly to her side, pale with worried. “What is it?” he asks without any delay, searching her face. “What’s wrong?”

Rapunzel places a hand on his shoulder, and he jumps at the contact, blinking fast. “Calm down,” she tells him gently. “I’d have said if it was anything immediate. Come on, let’s sit. Have you eaten?”

Only after they order some food and drink, and Rapunzel has secured a private room from Lance, does she finally sit down to talk. The room is small, but secluded, the walls secure from eavesdroppers and attackers alike. Two small chairs and a small wooden table is its only furniture.

Rapunzel settles down in her usual chair, and rolls out the map for Varian to see. The door opens before she can speak, Lance sweeping in with their food. Rapunzel gives him a sincere smile. “Thank you, Lance. I’ve missed your cooking.” She glances at the plate and gasps in delight. “Ooh, and pie, too?”

“Of course! Anytime, little lady, if it’s for you,” Lance replies warmly. He sets down the plates and ruffles Varian’s hair with a grin. “Anything for my favorite customers! Lemme know if you two find any more buried treasure like last time, y’hear?”

Varian bats his hand away with a scowl, and Lance laughs deep from his gut, walking away. “I’ll keep the eyes off your back,” he calls after them as he exits. “Go save the kingdom or something for me!” He pokes his head through the doorway to point a finger at Varian. “And you, kiddo, you better let me know if you’re staying for dinner.”

Varian mutters under his breath and brushes his hair back into its usual style, tying the strands behind his head in a loose pony-tail. “Yeah, yeah. I’m staying.”

“Wonderful! I’m making your favorites, then. It’s a special day, after all!”

Rapunzel waves at Lance’s back as he exits and turns to Varian the moment he’s out of sight. “Special day?” she asks with interest.

“Doesn’t matter,” Varian dismisses, waving it off. “Lance is just being—Lance. Mother-henning me.” His hand drops, and Rapunzel suddenly finds herself pinned under a fierce stare. Varian is practically bouncing in his seat, his fingers tapping hard against the table.

“Now can you tell me why you wanted to meet?” he asks, without any more delay. “Usually when its small stuff I meet with Cassie or Eugene, so, it’s something big, right?”

Rapunzel shakes her head, more amused by his impatience than offended. “Here,” she offers, pointing out the mountain hideout. “Have you heard anything about the Separatists lately?”

Varian leans over, eyeing the map. “Yes,” he admits. “I sent Cassie a letter about them this morning, actually. They’ve been… weirdly active. Bolder than usual.” He looks up. “The royal family knows?”

“And the guards.”

He frowns at this. “But then why haven’t they…” Realization flickers across his face. “The Separatists—they have leverage?”

“What they have,” Rapunzel says, “is a deal with a King who is willing to defend their right to be Separatists.”

Varian clicks his tongue, catching the subtext. “You can’t attack without inciting war, can you.”

Rapunzel snaps her fingers at him. “Exactly. Or, arrest them for being Separatists without getting the same result. Basically, we’re checked!”

Varian frowns. “It’s checkmate, actually. Checkmated…?” His face screws up, and he coughs into his hand. “…Anyway, you are acting weirdly peppy for this conversation topic? It’s a little freaky? Not like, bad freaky, but—”

Rapunzel snaps the map closed, cutting off his ramble. “That, my friend,” she says with dramatic grandeur, “is because I have a solution.”

Both eyebrows rise up, and a smile twitches at the corners of his mouth. “Okay…?”

Rapunzel clasps his hands in hers and leans forward over the table so he can’t escape. “Varian,” she says solemnly, “how do you feel about kidnapping a member of the royal family?”

Varian freezes.

Rapunzel grins.

“Oh, no,” Varian says, very quietly, and that is when Rapunzel starts laughing.

“I don’t know why I had to be the one to come,” Varian grumbles, hours later.

“Quiet!” Rapunzel hisses back. They are crouched in a bush, ducked underneath the many branches and leaves. She cannot help but be thankful, for once, that her long hair is now cut short; even unbreakable, it would have been a pain to lug around and hide. “Do you want them to find us?”

“I dunno, do I?”

Rapunzel frowns at him, disapproving, and Varian subsides with a sigh. His shoulders droop, his attitude falling to uncertainty. “I just don’t know if it’s a good idea, okay? What if we get caught?”

“Easy,” Rapunzel says, and hefts up her frying pan. “We get to practice! It’s been a while since I went all out, y’know?”

“Well…”

“You have your staff, don’t you?”

“…I do…”

“And all your alchemy concoctions?”

“Well, not all, but…”

Rapunzel studies his face and gentles, smiling sympathetically and nudging at his shoulder. “Remember a few years back?” she asks, soft. “When you and I went into the tunnels, and fought our way through all those boobytraps?”

“Yeah,” Varian says. “And then I stole a useless flower, betrayed you and the kingdom, and started making what turned out to be some of the worst decisions of my life?”

Rapunzel punches his shoulder, a move reminiscent of Cassandra, unamused by this. “Before that. Just— just the tunnels. The moving walls, the traps, the collapsing floors…”

“The automaton,” Varian offers, brightening a little, as Rapunzel knew he would. Science has forever been Varian’s love. Even just the mention of the robot is enough to bring a sliver of joy to Varian’s face.

She beams at him. “Yes, exactly! The automaton. We worked together pretty well then, didn’t we?”

His smile is sudden and startling, small and uncertain but bright. “…Yeah. Yeah, we did!”

She nudges his shoulder again. “That’s the spirit! And I mean, after having faced such a… a marvel of ancient scientific achievement, what are a few goons?”

This time, Varian grins, all teeth. “Easy pickings?”

Rapunzel matches his smile, bolstered by his good mood. “Exactly! So chin up, okay? Don’t worry. I’m here with you— we’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” Varian says, and this time he really sounds like he means it. Rapunzel tugs a twig from his hair and tells him the rest of her plan with a wicked smile.

Varian matches her grin with one of his own, laughter in his eyes. “Aw, you’re right,” he says, warmth in his voice, “we do make a pretty good team, Princess.”

“I seek an audience with the to-be King of Saporia,” Varian says coldly, shoving Rapunzel forwards. Rapunzel stumbles in her footing. Her arms are wrenched tight behind her back, tied with rough twine and twisted so she can’t get free. There’s a gag around her mouth and fire in her eyes, the hook of Varian’s staff circling her throat.

At the entrance of the mountain hideout, home of the Separatists, the look-outs hesitate, stepping back, glancing uncertainly between one another. Neither of them speaks.

Varian’s eyes narrow, shoulders drawing back. He grabs Rapunzel’s arms and forces her to her knees so that he can point the staff at them, instead.

“Well?” Varian snaps. He makes a terrifying sight, in this midnight darkness— a tall and snap-thin teen, all angles, with dark circles like bruises beneath his eyes and deep shadows across his cold face, a wicked scar trailing across one cheek. Varian tilts up his chin and jabs the staff in the look-out’s direction, the alchemical concoctions tied to the tip glowing a sickly green-and-yellow. “Get going, before I decide to find him myself.”

One guard steps back, but the other steps forward, sword held out, expression uncertain. “Who—who are you? I don’t—”

“I am someone who wants revenge on Corona, same as you,” Varian says. “What more do you need to know? I have the Crown Princess at my feet and my staff at your throats. I don’t advise you make me wait any longer.”

This, it seems, is enough for the guards— without a second glance, they both flee into the hideout, vanishing into the dark, leaving Varian and his prisoner alone.

The moment they vanish, Varian’s shoulders sag, and the cold expression falls from his face. He looks down at Rapunzel in worry. Rapunzel sits up and winks at him.

“For the record,” Varian whispers down to her, “I've changed my mind. I hate this plan so much. I mean sure, they were dumb enough to both leave and get him—their hideout is completely undefended right now, I’m a bit offended, but—”

Rapunzel rolls her eyes at him, sitting back on the dirt. Pascal crawls out from behind her hair, shaking his head up at Varian from her shoulder.

“I mean, yeah,” Varian admits, squinting at the unprotected hideout entrance, scar scrunching up near his eye, “it’s nice to be respected, but like— wow, this is one of worse ones yet. The plan, I mean. I’ve met worse goons— the plan, this plan though, oh yikes.”

Rapunzel turns to stare at him, deadpan. She cannot believe him. Is he really saying this now? Here? When they are quite literally in the middle of said plan? Ridiculous.

Varian looks back. “Oh, wow. Did you learn that one from Pascal? ‘Cause it kinda feels like you learned that one from Pascal.”

Pascal squints at him. Varian nods knowingly. “Yep,” he says. “That was a Pascal-look for sure.”

Footsteps and voices echo from within the hideout, and all three of them pause, before they snap back into character. Pascal vanishes back behind Rapunzel’s hair, and Rapunzel directs her eyes to the ground, shoulders bowed in pretend defeat. Varian gingerly places the crook of his staff back at her throat.

“Positions, everyone, positions,” Varian mutters, mockery of a stage play director, and giggles nervously under his breath.

Rapunzel bites her lip to keep from laughing and shakes her head. Angry thoughts, she reminds herself. Must think angry thoughts!

By the time the Separatist self-proclaimed King and entourage turns into the light, Rapunzel is ready, eyes lowered but burning with fury. It is not hard. All she has to do is remember the threat this man poses to her people, and the rage comes quickly.

Varian’s face is once more wiped clean of emotion, his cold blue eyes glittering with malice. When he sees the Separatist leader arrive, he smiles a crescent smile, a smile too wide to be sincere, devoid of true joy and warmth.

“King of Saporia,” Varian says, calm. “I’ve come to offer you my services.”

“Have you,” says the man, but he seems non-hostile, mollified by the title Varian has granted him. He glances at Rapunzel and then away again. “A bold statement, my dear boy. Why, pray tell, should I believe you? Or even have need of such services?”

“Because I have the Crown Princess of Corona at your feet and skills you could only dream of,” Varian says, smile dropping. Silly questions always have made him impatient. “Do the math, old man.”

“The Crown Princess—?” the man starts, looking to Rapunzel for a long moment. After a second his eyes go wide with recognition. “That is—… by the Moon, it is her.”

This time when he turns to Varian, he doesn’t seem nearly as confident. “Who… just who are you?”

“One who hates Corona as much as you do,” Varian says simply. He smiles again, hard and cold as stone. “Tell me, would-be King of Saporia. Have you heard of the Alchemist?”

“The Alchemist? You?” The false king steps back. “But I heard… I heard he was much older. And you don’t look at thing like the wanted poster…”

“Is it my fault if the kingdom is full of fools?” Varian asks simply. “They didn’t want the stigma of being beaten by a fourteen-year-old; worked out well for me all these years. I am tired of this. Do you agree, King? Or should I go,” he pulls back the staff, near choking Rapunzel, and she holds her breath to keep from coughing, “—and give my gift to someone else more… appreciative?”

“No!” The Separatist leader says, panic and greed clear as day in his eyes. “No, no, my dear boy… You, you are welcome! Your company, your abilities…” His eyes stray to Rapunzel. “And your gift.”

“Wonderful,” Varian says. He smiles, much more genuinely this time, and squeezes Rapunzel’s shoulder in a silent cue. “We have a deal then. Now—”

All at once, Rapunzel breaks into motion. She twists and turns and fights with all her might, and Varian lunges at her bound wrists, pretending to struggle to keep a hold on her.

“Damn you, help me!” he shouts at the Separatists. “Bring your men out here, hurry!”

“Can’t you do something?” the leader cries out, stepping closer, nervous at the idea of his prize escaping.

“Do as I say,” Varian snarls back, acting out his part perfectly even as he dabs chemicals on Rapunzel’s bound wrists, “or Moon help me, I’ll—”

Rapunzel ‘rips’ free of the rope bindings while all are distracted and lunges for the Separatist leader. Her rope bonds fall away like water, the cords already eaten away by one of Varian’s concoctions, just as they planned. She grabs the startled leader, twisting his arm behind his back the way Cassandra taught her, and holding the rim of her frying pan under his throat, cold metal against his windpipe. “Drop your weapons!” she shouts, when all the Separatists go for their swords. “Stop moving now, or—or, the old man gets it!”

The old man gets it? Varian mouths at her, looking incredulous, and Rapunzel flushes, shaking her head at him.

The men mumble, shuffling uncertainly on their feet. Rapunzel glares her fiercest glare at them. “Well?” she demands.

They glance between each other. “…We could always get a new king,” one guard mumbles, and as one, every Separatist sword rises.

In her grip, the former Separatist leader sobs pathetically.

Rapunzel nearly drops her pan. “Really?” she says, disgusted and annoyed. “Really?”

“I told you so,” Varian mumbles, and that is when the men attack.

“Stop pouting,” says Rapunzel, an hour later, trudging through the woods. Varian follows at her heels, grumbling quietly. “We were fine!”

“You hit me in the eye,” Varian says back. “With a frying pan.”

“That was an accident!”

“You threw it straight at me!”

“I thought you were going to catch it! Everyone else always catches it!”

“Threw it at me,” Varian repeats stubbornly, rubbing forlornly at his face. “Giving me black eyes, making annoying plans, setting off flares…”

“It all worked out!” Rapunzel insists, offended by his complaints. She brushes a stray branch away from her face, ducking underneath another one, heading up the hill with a huff. “We were amazing! You didn’t accidentally say anything cheesy in a panic, I got to dramatically escape and hold a man hostage, we had a wonderful time subduing a threat to the kingdom, and we won! It was perfect!”

“Sure, they all got arrested,” Varian says. “But we had to run away from guards, and my eye hurts, and I told you so.”

Rapunzel grins at him. “And we won!” she repeats stubbornly, nudging him with her elbow.

Varian waves a hand. “Ehhh.”

“Ehhh?!”

“Yeah, that’s right. Ehhh. I think we should’ve done my plan.”

“Your plan!” Rapunzel says, crossing her arms. “What was your plan!”

Varian huffs. “Well, I may have forgotten to mention it, but—”

“Ohoho, did you?”

“—BUT,” Varian repeats loudly, “I’ll have you know it was a vastly superior plan—”

“Oh!”

“—Very well thought out—”

“I see!”

“—And it would have absolutely worked, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. So there.”

“W-ell,” says Rapunzel, trying not to laugh, adopting a lofty tone, “I’m very sorry for not following your wonderful and yet unspoken plan, Varian.”

Varian nods firmly, crossing his arms with a satisfied smile. “Thank you,” he says primly, and promptly trips over a branch.

Rapunzel catches him before he can face-plant the ground, laughing softly as she sets him upright. “You okay there?”

“Branches, too many branches. Where are we even going? This isn’t the way back to the castle!”

“That way is going to be crawling with guards for a while, so I figured we should avoid it for a bit.” Rapunzel tugs him forward, looping their arms together playfully. “I know a good place to rest, yeah? We’re almost there! Just, trust me?”

Varian goes quiet at this. When he finally responds, his voice is much softer. “Okay,” he says. His eyes are on the ground. “I trust you.”

Rapunzel faces forward, and doesn’t look back at him, doesn’t dare to. But she smiles into the shadowed brush, so wide and bright that the force of it nearly brings tears to her eyes.

She never really thought they could have this, is the thing, never believed she and Varian could ever be friends again. Those years ago, after that battle in Old Corona, she had thought that would be the end of it. She could apologize, she could give him a second chance, she could try— and maybe, things could be all right. But even then, she’d never dared to dream that this would happen. That he could forgive her, and that she could forgive him. That they could start over.

The events that brought them to this point—none of them were nice, none of them were pretty. Some still give Rapunzel nightmares, memories of a dark place, of a desperate chase, of a bloody arrow or a kingdom in ruin. She still has scars, pale and light, remnants of wounds even Rapunzel’s quick healing can’t erase entirely. Varian is missing half his ear, has a scar slashing across half his face. Eugene’s leg will never be the same; Cassandra’s back is a mass of scars.

Yet, for all the ugliness in their past, their future is bright. It is full of laughter and fun and fights that are more brawl than true danger. Rapunzel… she can never regret these past few years, not really. Not when it has brought her this future, not when it has brought her here, to a world where Varian says “I trust you,” and means it, a world where they are not enemies. A world with Eugene at her side and Cassandra set to be Captain of the Guard. A world where they are victorious.

These thoughts comfort her as they walk, set her heart at ease and keep her walk steady. When they reach her destination, she has enough good cheer remaining to make of a show of it, a low sweep of her hand and a silly smile.

“May I present to you—a wall!”

“Ah, yes, the kingdom border,” Varian says dryly. “A riveting sight. Truly amazing. It’s almost like I didn’t grow up in a border town and see it every day of my life—”

Rapunzel has already climbed to the top. “Quit sassing me and come up!”

“Princess, seriously, I already know—”

“Up!”

He sighs loudly, but starts climbing, only complaining a little bit. Halfway up, his gloves slip, and Rapunzel leans over the edge, catching him just in time. She yanks him up the rest of the way with one sharp tug. He’s lighter than she expects, though, and she pulls too hard—they go tumbling back against the stone, Varian yelping and Rapunzel wheezing when Varian’s elbow digs into her stomach.

“Ouch!”

“Ohhh, thanks for that, just what I needed, to be sent flying into space—”

“I keep forgetting how light you are,” Rapunzel says, laughing weakly, trying to catch her breath. “Eugene is right! Have you been eating regular meals?”

“I forgot how strong and how nosy you are,” Varian says in return, pushing himself up. He pats the dust from his hair. “I’m fine, Mom. I eat veggies and everything, lay off.”

“I just worry.”

He sighs at this, rolling over onto his back, arms out-splayed. “I know,” he says sadly. “You always worry. I wish you wouldn’t.”

Rapunzel has nothing to say to this, so she lays down next to him instead, arms folded on her chest, looking up to the stars. She’s quiet for a long moment, playing with her nails, before she dares to speak.

“I’m told that what older sisters do,” she says finally, hesitant. “Worry, I mean.”

Varian sucks in a tiny breath. “An… older sister,” he repeats, but his voice breaks on the words, makes it a question.

“Yes,” Rapunzel says. She tangles her fingers, untangles them, tangles them again. She has called Varian her brother before—just once, a year ago, and it had seemed right to do it—but she has never laid claim to the title in this way, mentioned herself as a part of his family, rather than just him as a part of hers. “If… if that’s okay?”

Varian is quiet, quiet for a long time, his breathing rasping faintly in the air. When he finally speaks, his voice is rough, wet with unshed tears. “…Yeah,” he says. “Yeah. I’ve… I’ve never had a sibling before. Its— I don’t… I don’t mind if— if you are.”

Rapunzel lets out a relieved breath, grinning up at the sky. “Okay,” she says, beaming at the stars. “Okay.”

“Do—do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Do you mind? Calling me— your brother. After everything.”

She rolls onto her stomach, pushing up on her elbows so she can reach out and tweak his nose. He yelps, hands flying to his face, and she laughs at his expression, confusion and childish annoyance clear as day in his eyes.

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it,” she tells him, warmth curling in her heart. She twists to sit up fully, legs dangling over the edge of the wall, the wind blowing through her hair. “How many times are you going to ask me that? You’re my brother. I told you that ages ago. Ah, you’re so silly sometimes.”

He laughs, or maybe cries, or maybe it’s something a little of both. He sits up too, next to her, one hand still rubbing at his nose. His eyes are blinking fast and he is hiding a smile behind his hand. “Ugh, where do you get off saying that? Remember the tunnels? Oh, you dastardly fiend—”

“May I remind you,” Rapunzel says with a grin, “of, It is I, Varian! Come to enact—”

“Okay okay! I get it, you win, can you please not remind me of that?”

Rapunzel breaks off into laughter, and after a moment of hesitation, Varian laughs with her, the last of the tension bleeding out from his shoulders. The wind blows cold against their faces, still clinging to the winter chill even in this early spring. In the distance, the capital city and the castle are awash in light, a glowing beacon on the horizon, a radiance gathering at its edges. It turns the far-off hills into black silhouettes, stains the clouds a brilliant gold and pink. Dawn is soon approaching.

Rapunzel smiles out over the kingdom and reaches out with one arm to hug Varian to her side on impulse. “Happy birthday, little brother,” she tells him, and kicks her feet over the edge. “Nineteen’s a big year—I know mine was. I hope you had fun tonight.”

He freezes in her hold, sucking in a sharp breath, stiff in her arms. “I didn’t know you—”

She grins at him. “A little birdie told me.”

“Who?”

“I think you’ll have fun finding out, won’t you?”

He pauses at this, and then sighs. “Lance. Oh, damn. There's gonna be gifts in my main hideout, isn’t there?”

“Better head to the Snuggly Duckling and pick them up before you go!” Rapunzel chirps, refusing to feel ashamed.

“You’re all terrible,” Varian says, but he is smiling, cheeks flushed with pleasure. “What, was this—this whole thing, was it—”

Rapunzel laughs sheepishly, one hand rising to pull at a strand of her hair. “Sort of…? I mean the Separatists, they were a legitimate issue, but… Yes.”

“I still don’t get how what we did solved anything,” Varian admits, picking at a loose thread in his vest. “Won’t King Trevor just declare war now? I mean, being a Separatist is a crime, but he’ll probably defend them against that charge, so…”

“Oh!” Rapunzel says, grinning back at him. “Actually, it’s pretty simple. See, you attacked and kidnapped me, and you made a deal with the Separatists— I can vouch for that. Ergo, because of that, they are guilty of aiding and requesting an attack on a princess, ergo this is a crime King Trevor can’t excuse, and thus— We charge them for the crime of assault, and since we aren’t persecuting them for being Separatists, King Trevor can’t throw a fit over it, and we leave them all to stew in their untimely demise.”

“Nice,” says Varian.

“I know, right? I make good plans.” Rapunzel pokes his side, and he squeaks in surprise, leaning away from her. “Nice subject change, by the way. C’mon, be honest. It was fun, wasn’t it?”

Varian smiles, a bit sheepish, his eyes bright. “Okay, okay. It was.” He takes a deep breath, looking as if he is about to speak, and then shakes his head. Abruptly he leans forward, twisting in her hold to hug her properly, both arms squeezing tight against her back, his hair brushing her cheek.

He has let go and pulled away before Rapunzel can react. “Thanks,” Varian says, very carefully avoiding her gaze. "For— for everything.”

Rapunzel blinks at him, still surprised by the sudden hug, and then smiles, soft and gentle. She feels like she's on cloud nine, so happy she could sing. “Of course.”

Varian shakes his head again, and stands suddenly, turning away. It cannot hide the tremble in his hands, the tears in his eyes, or the smile on his face. “I should go now,” he says awkwardly, fiddling with his clothes. “I still have…”

He waves his hand, looking frustrated, and Rapunzel nods knowingly, taking pity on him.

“I get it,” she says kindly. “Take care, Varian.”

He looks back at her. “You too, Princ…” He stops then, and smiles. “Rapunzel,” he corrects, and Rapunzel beams back at him, delighted.

They help each other down from the wall and Rapunzel wraps Varian in one last bruising hug before he can scamper off. For a moment he hesitates, and then his arms come around and hug her back, just as tightly.

“Goodbye, Varian,” Rapunzel says, squeezing him hard before she pulls away, hands resting on his shoulders. “I’ll see you soon.”

He grins up at her, for a moment looking every inch the boy he once was, the boy he still is, the boy she met years and years ago. “Bye, Raps.”

She waves him off and tries not to laugh when he leaves, because he is walking in the direction of the Snuggly Duckling. She hopes Lance doesn’t tease him too much, or throw too big of a celebration; she hopes he likes the gifts they all have left for him. She hopes tonight was as fun for him as it was for her.

She turns her face towards the sunrise and starts the long walk home, discussing with Pascal her story for how she ‘escaped’ her kidnapping. There is happiness in her heart and warmth brimming from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. She feels happy. She feels victorious.

All in all, she thinks, watching as the sun crests over her kingdom, it has been a good day. A good day, a good year, a good life. It is the happily ever after the tragedy, the sunrise at the end of the long night. They may have struggled to get here—but in the end that sun shines all the brighter to their eyes because of it.

Her story has ended at last, and this ending—this happily ever after they have all been left with—it is one she has come to love, with every fiber of her being.

She walks home to her family without fear, led on by the rising sun, and not once does she think to look back.

#tts #tangled the series #varian #rapunzel #rta #rapunzel’s tangled adventure #varian tts #varian tangled #lance strongbow #rapunzel tangled #tangled #varian the alchemist #varian rta #rapunzel rta #fic: daybreak of the victor #iza fanfic

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ladytp · 7 years ago

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Here is the 3rd and final chapter of my gift to @lenny9987 in the Outlander Secret Santa 2017, “In the Quiet of the Night, Candour”. (First chapter here, second here, both chapters now also posted in AO3). It has been fun to play!

Chapter 3 - Aftermath

Claire was worried. It was not like Jamie to stay away longer than intended without sending a word, and certainly not like him to miss an important event in their little community. The new church – as small and crudely built as it was – was an important milestone for the Fraser’s Ridge and Jamie wouldn’t want to miss its consecration for the world.

She was not the only one; Young Ian and Roger Mac had become increasingly restless as days had gone by, and finally snapping the previous evening they had declared their intention to go scouting the next day. To trace Jamie and Lord John’s route to the indian village, find out if something was amiss and bring them home, one way or another.

Claire had gone to bed with an eerie premonition that something was amiss, and had woken up before the daybreak still carrying the same feeling. She missed Jamie, missed his warm body next to hers, his morning ritual of kissing her softly when he noticed she was starting to stir, the smile spreading on his wide mouth when she complained the hour being much too early. She wanted him back – the sooner the better.

As the men had already planned to go find him, however, Claire knew there was not much she could do about it – so stifling a yawn she decided that as long as sleep evaded her, she might as well get some things done.

After getting dressed she tidied her surgery, crushed herbs and set them to stew in a hot pot. Having finished that task she took a basket of socks in need of repair and sat in the glow of the kitchen fireplace to yarn them, pricking herself with a needle even more times than normal.

Anything to pass the time.

Sucking her thumb the third time to quell the blood of a needle prick Claire glanced out of the window and sighed noticing how it was hardly a sunrise. Finally giving in to her restlessness she acknowledged that such a sedentary and delicate activity as mending socks was not for her, not now, and decided that a breath of fresh air might be just what she needed.

There was a place up the small stream flowing east of the Ridge where she had once noticed an abundant field of hen of the woods – mushrooms that were as good for eating as they were for medicinal purposes. It was late in a year for them to be at their best – but for brewing concoctions, freshness was not always required. On the contrary, sometimes dried specimens gave stronger brews.

And it would get her out of the house.

Claire garbed herself quickly, not being put off by the snow that had fallen during the night. If she would ride Clarence, it would not take long for her to reach the place, fill her basket and return – maybe even in time to bid farewell to the explorers before it set on its way.

The feeling of purpose filled her with new energy, which was however not reciprocated by Clarence, who protested vocally for being taken away from his small and cosy stable.

“Come now Clarence, a walk in the woods will do you good too. You are getting fat and lazy, you know?” Claire cajoled the resisting animal, who was not however impressed. Eventually, Claire nonetheless won the clash of wills and the two started off towards the woods.

Claire liked Lord John, she genuinely did – but she couldn’t help the feeling of irrational jealousy sometimes creeping into her mind when she saw Jamie and Lord John conversing. There was easiness between them, an unbroken chain of shared memories, camaraderie that exists between two men thoroughly familiar with the world of men, so different to that occupied by women – at least in that time and age.

And there was the bond they shared through Willie.

And there was the love that shone out of Lord John’s eyes every time he looked at Jamie, no matter how hard he tried to hide it. Although not obvious to everyone, Claire recognised it, as it was the same look Jamie directed at her and which made her heart swell, even after all the years they had shared.

Claire knew of course she had absolutely nothing to worry in regards to Lord John’s feelings towards Jamie. As a matter of fact, she felt sorry for him for them – to love so hopelessly, without a chance of ever being reciprocated, must be a torment.

And yet…

The ride was brisk, Clarence having finally submitted to the idea of being taken out for yet another ambling through the woods. Claire closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, enjoying the clear cool air filling her lungs, trusting Clarence to pick his way surefootedly across the landscape. Birds had started their tentative chirping once the sun had risen and the snow in the ground was already melting away, only burrowed patches still resisting the warm rays.

Claire stopped at an elevated spot next to the stream – too low to be called a hill but still giving her the advantage of the view over the terrain. If she remembered correctly, the mushroom spot was not too far away. Maybe around that bend over there... Raising her hand to shield her eyes against the sun Claire scanned the landscape and stopped at an oddly shaped structure on the ground.

It was rectangular – too symmetric to be formed by nature. Flat, slightly depressed, partially covered by snow. Maybe it was remnants of a fire pit, dug by a band of hunters some time ago?

It didn’t really matter what it was, but Claire’s curiosity had been raised – and since it was directly on her route to the mushrooms, she decided to take a closer look.

She hopped off Clarence’ back, wanting to stretch her legs and study the mysterious formation closer. Approaching it she took in its dug edge that looked too fresh to have been done a while ago, then the shapes of something that looked like bundled clothes, then the opening between two such bundles letting her see what was buried underneath…

…and Jamie’s red hair partially covering his face as he lay on his side, his tresses mixing with the blond streaks of Lord John.

Claire gasped. Were they dead? Even before she gathered her skirts to run closer, she registered the healthy red on both of their cheeks and after another look, she could surmise even breathing suggesting that they were, in fact, in deep sleep.

Just as she was about to exclaim her presence and joy of finding them, something held her back for reasons she could not explain. Studying closer the scene in front of her Claire registered the way Jamie’s forehead rested against the curve of Lord John’s neck, his shoulder leaning so close over John’s that it suggested that his arm was wrapped around the other man.

They both looked peaceful, corner of Lord John’s mouth slightly upturned so it looked like he was smiling in his sleep. His eyelashes were long and dark, resting against his cheek, making him resemble a fallen angel from a renaissance painting. Claire couldn’t see Jamie’s features clearly, but his eyes were closed and his bearing relaxed, his breathing steady and even.

Disturbingly, Jamie’s protective stance holding the other man so close to him reminded Claire of the many times he had held her so – tightly, closely.

…and if necessary, the protection of my body as well… The words came to her, those that Jamie had said on their wedding night.

The sight in front of her was peaceful, calm, and disturbingly intimate – as if she would have walked into lover’s embrace.

This is ridiculous.

She broke out of her momentary hesitation, not willing to dwell on disturbing implications of the scene.

“Jamie! Lord John! Thank God you are here! What happened?” Her exaggeratedly cheery proclamation was followed by an immediate action in the burrow. Jamie was the first to react, lifting his head and breaking into a wide smile.

“Sassenach! What are ye doing here?!”

Loud exclamations, tossing off the snow covered clothes, the weary travellers stiffly rising up to their feet– the joy of reunion swept away any other thought and soon Claire was too busy examining Lord John’s by now notable swollen ankle that she had no time to process the sight that had initially greeted her.

Clarence received only mildly protesting Lord John on his back and the party returned to the Ridge poste haste, mushrooms all forgotten.

It was only later that evening that Claire allowed herself to wonder again about the view she had witnessed.

The returning explorers had been received with relief, arriving just in time before Young Ian and Roger had been ready to set on their journey. A few chosen jests were exchanged about the planning of men and actions of women, but it was all good-hearted and jovial. In truth, Claire suspected that her already impressive reputation as a conjuring woman and seer was only going to increase because of the incident, and no matter how many times she would insist being only after mushrooms, the story would grow and grow more in time.

Besides, she could not for sure say even herself whether it had been just mushrooms or the nagging feeling she had experienced that had set her on the road.

She attended to Lord John’s foot in her surgery, confirming that he indeed had a shattered ankle bone which would require considerable rest before he could step on it again. Both men had been provided with a hot bath and even hotter soup to banish away the lingering effects of cold chill, and over the day they had regaled their adventures to a rapt audience. Their description of how they had survived the night in the burrow was met with nods and understanding – it was the best way to go about a night in the cold, and every man and woman in the house would have not thought twice about it.

As if he had sensed Claire’s eyes on him at the time Jamie had raised his eyebrows and shrug his shoulders almost imperceptible, acknowledging her unasked question. How could you let him so close to you? And that was all she had to settle with until she would get him on his own later that evening.

Claire didn’t talk with Lord John again that day, but she saw him sitting at the end of the front veranda of the house just before sunset. He must have hobbled there with the aid of rude crutches Young Ian had procured from somewhere, which were now leaning neatly against the bench. He was facing the forest, almost hidden by the dried branches of a vine that had gone wild at one end of the porch - and Claire didn’t fault him for that. A big house full of people, including young children, must be as far away as possible from a quiet estate of a widowed gentleman, and time for himself was probably what he needed.

Lord John was contemplating his hands when Claire first caught a sight of him; staring at his upturned palms, then rotating them around as if in wonder of possessing such appendices in the first place. Claire had a mind to join him and gauge his reaction to her now that the most urgent doctoring was out of the way, but then he sighed deeply, leaned his back against the weathered wood of the wall and closed his eyes – and Claire stopped on her tracks.

His expression… there was a slight furrow between his eyebrows, but rather than conveying anger, it seemed to express concentration, Claire thought. She was not the best reader of faces and human emotions, but what she could gather from her vantage point behind the door, Lord John appeared calm and contemplating. The slightest hint of a smile played in the corner of his mouth, alternating with that furrow. Overall, he seemed to be a man experiencing conflicting emotions, if anything else.

Was he thinking of the previous night? What had happened? Claire prevaricated, observing Lord John for a bit longer, but in the end she didn’t have the heart to interrupt his musings – whatever they might be.

She would just have to wait for the evening and privacy of their bedroom to talk with Jamie.

Claire brushed her hair absentmindedly, waiting for Jamie to undress. She could still see at the back of her mind the protective hold Jamie had had on Lord John, the mixing of red and blond hair on the makeshift pillow. Others could think the arrangement being only pragmatic, but they hadn’t seen what she had, and Claire knew things could not be so simple - there had to be something else.

She remembered how Jamie had once almost strangled older Ian – his best friend in the whole wide world! – when he had accidentally come too close to Jamie at night. It had happened when the two of them had had to share a quilt on a cottage floor in the Highlands, and the incident had forced Jamie to share the events of Wentworth prison with his shocked brother-in-law. As far as Claire was aware Ian Murray was the only other person who knew the reason for Jamie’s wariness of being too close to a man, unless he had shared the story with Jenny.

She knew the nightmares that still plagued Jamie sometimes, and how despite her whole being longing to lean into him and give him the protection and comfort of her body, she had learned that he simply could not be touched at those times. Not even by her.

Yet, nightmares or not, the thought that Jamie would willingly entangle himself with another man, especially one whom he knew with certainty harbouring sexual desires upon his person… No, it simply didn’t make any sense.

“What a verra fine feast it is to sleep in a proper bed in a proper house after the last few nights! Ye ken, I am getting too old for life in the wild,” Jamie sighed as he laid himself down, his big bulk moulding into the mattress with a grace of a big cat.

“It didn’t look too bad for you, last night,” Claire couldn’t help retorting. She stood up and crawled to Jamie’s side, allowing him to pull her for him.

Jamie frowned. “What d’ye mean? I was freezing my balls off, we both were.”

“When I saw you first, you looked…cosy enough.” Claire truly didn’t want to be the kind of wife questioning her husband about every little thing he did when they were apart, but she couldn’t get the sight of Jamie’s arm across Lord John’s shoulders out of her mind.

At first Jamie didn’t say anything, only adjusting Claire to a more comfortable position against him.

“Are ye…jealous, Sassenach?” Smile in his tone irritated Claire.

“No, of course not! I only wonder how you suddenly seem so comfortable with him,” she bristled.

“I have been comfortable wi’ John for a long time now. It hasna been difficult for us since, well, since Willie.”

“Not that comfortable; you were practically embracing him.”

Jaime turned to look down at her, his mouth working as if to say something.

“Aye, maybe I was. It was verra cold.”

“Didn’t it disturb you, you know, after all you have gone through – and being aware of how he feels about you?”

Another long silence, this time stretching so long that Claire started to doubt the wisdom of raising the matter at all. Me and my big mouth! Why couldn’t she just have left the matter?

Well, it was not exactly the first time she had plundered headlong into something she would have been better to leave alone.

“I told him.” Jamie’s voice was low but his words were clear.

Claire startled. “You told him what?”

“About Randall. And Wentworth.”

Jamie’s thumb was drawing a small circle on her shoulder, around and around. It was soothing, it was relaxing – and yet Claire was suddenly fully alert and raised her head to look at him.

“You did?”

‘Did I just say so or didna I?”

“Why?”

“Well, ye were right, it did curdle my wame to lay so close, and he noticed. And he didna ken it was not him that did it – and it didna seem right to me.” Jamie had not stopped the motion of his fingers and Claire settled down again. “And he did ask.”

Claire was digesting the news. She knew Jamie had guarded the shame of Wentworth – as he still saw it – close to his heart, not revealing it to anyone. Of the people who knew about it, most were dead anyway. And now he had shared it with someone who in a twisted way was – or had been – eerily similar in many aspects to Black Jack Randall and sure to raise many uncomfortable memories in Jamie over the years.

“What did he say?”

“He said he was verra sorry. And some other things. Things I shouldna tell to you, I reckon. But things it is good for me to ken.”

“Oh.” Claire was disappointed, she would have loved to know what had transpired between the two men. Yet she knew Jamie’s strong sense of honour when it came to things shared with him in confidence, and accepted that this was probably most she could get out of him.

“Well, I am sure he was horrified that such things were done by his fellow officers.”

“He was. And he reminded me that not all men are like that - you ken, men like him.”

Claire snuggled closer and inhaled his scent of soap and ash.

“He is right. What he is – he is not a sinner or wicked, it just that some people are born that way. Different. Like being left-handed or tone-deaf. In years to come it will be accepted better, although it will take a long time.”

Claire remembered the medical text books she had read during her studies, most still describing homosexuality as a disease, but with some new research at the time being more liberal in its interpretation. She remembered the whispered comments about this or that member of the faculty, some open about their inclinations, some still in hiding. Yet none of them were openly persecuted for it, not like in these times. Discrimination, for sure, death sentences, less so.

“John told as much – that he is what he is and canna change even if he wanted.”

“And you are fine with that?”

Jamie sighed deeply, the heave of his chest lifting Claire’s head up and down.

“I canna see as if I had any options. The wee sodomite is my friend, after all.”

“I am glad to hear it.” Claire pressed her lips on his bare chest. “But only a friend, eh?”

“Only a friend. For anything else I am happy with lassies.” Jamie kissed her forehead.

“Lassies? You have many in mind, pray tell?” Claire’s lips wandered lower and the familiar rush of warmth engulfed her body, anticipation of sensual delights.

“Only one, by my oath. Now, move up so I canna show ye how happy,” Jamie mumbled while taking a strong hold of Claire’s nightgown and starting to peel it off.

Claire gladly obliged and the image of Lord John’s lonely figure shimmered and disappeared from her mind.

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

#Outlander #Jamie Fraser #Lord John Grey #Claire Fraser #Outlander Secret Santa 2017 #the love that dare not speak its name #moghraidhjamie #In The Quiet of the Night - Candour #my fanfic

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dfroza · 3 years ago

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Today’s reading from the ancient book of Proverbs and book of Psalms

for june 30 of 2021 with Proverbs 30 and Psalm 30, accompanied by Psalm 11 for the 11th day of Summer and Psalm 31 for day 181 of the year (now with the consummate book of 150 Psalms in its 2nd revolution this year)

[Proverbs 30]

[The Mysterious Sayings of Agur]

These are the collected sayings of the prophet Agur, Jakeh’s son—

the amazing revelation he imparted to Ithiel and Ukal.

God, I’m so weary and worn out,

I feel more like a beast than a man.

I was made in your image,

but I lack understanding.

I’ve yet to learn the wisdom

that comes from the full and intimate knowledge of you,

the Holy One.

[Six Questions]

Who is it that travels back and forth

from the heavenly realm to the earth?

Who controls the wind as it blows and holds it in his fists?

Who tucks the rain into the cloak of his clouds?

Who stretches out the skyline from one vista to the other?

What is his name?

And what is the name of his Son?

Who can tell me?

[A Pure Heart Is Filled with God’s Word]

Every promise from the faithful God

is pure and proves to be true.

He is a wraparound shield of protection for all his lovers

who run to hide in him.

Never add to his words,

or he will have to rebuke you and prove that you’re a liar.

God, there are two things I’m asking you for before I die, only two:

Empty out of my heart everything that is false—

every lie, and every crooked thing.

And give me neither undue poverty nor undue wealth—

but rather, feed my soul with the measure of prosperity

that pleases you.

May my satisfaction be found in you.

Don’t let me be so rich that I don’t need you

or so poor that I have to resort to dishonesty

just to make ends meet.

Then my life will never detract from bringing glory to your name.

Never defame a servant before his master,

for you will be the guilty one

and a curse will come upon you.

There is a generation rising that curses their fathers

and speaks evil of their mothers.

There is a generation rising that considers themselves

to be pure in their own eyes,

yet they are morally filthy, unwashed, and unclean.

There is a generation rising that is so filled with pride,

they think they are superior and look down on others.

There is a generation rising that uses their words like swords

to cut and slash those who are different.

They would devour the poor, the needy, and the afflicted

from off the face of the earth!

There are three words to describe the greedy:

“Give me more!”

There are some things that are never satisfied.

Forever craving more, they’re unable to say, “That’s enough!”

Here are four:

the grave, yawning for another victim,

the barren womb, ever wanting a child,

thirsty soil, ever longing for rain,

and a raging fire, devouring its fuel.

They’re all insatiable.

The eye that mocks his father and dishonors his elderly mother

deserves to be plucked out by the ravens of the valley

and fed to the young vultures!

[Four Mysteries]

There are four marvelous mysteries

that are too amazing to unravel—

who could fully explain them?

The way an eagle flies in the sky,

the way a snake glides on a boulder,

the path of a ship as it passes through the sea,

and the way a bridegroom falls in love with his bride.

Here is the deceptive way of the adulterous woman:

she takes what she wants and then says,

“I’ve done nothing wrong.”

[Four Intolerable Things]

There are four intolerable events

that are simply unbearable to observe:

when an unfaithful servant becomes a ruler,

when a scoundrel comes into great wealth,

when an unfaithful woman marries a good man,

and when a mistress replaces a faithful wife.

[Four Creatures Small and Wise]

The earth has four creatures that are very small but very wise:

The feeble ant has little strength,

yet look how it diligently gathers its food in the summer

to last throughout the winter.

The delicate rock-badger isn’t all that strong,

yet look how it makes a secure home, nestled in the rocks.

The locusts have no king to lead them,

yet they cooperate as they move forward by bands.

And the small lizard is easy to catch

as it clings to the walls with its hands,

yet it can be found inside a king’s palace.

[Four Stately Things]

There are four stately monarchs

who are impressive to watch as they go forth:

the lion, the king of the jungle, who is afraid of no one,

the rooster strutting boldly among the hens,

the male goat out in front leading the herd,

and a king leading his regal procession.

If you’ve acted foolishly by drawing attention to yourself,

or if you’ve thought about saying something stupid,

you’d better shut your mouth.

For such stupidity may give you a bloody nose!

Stirring up an argument only leads to an angry confrontation.

The Book of Proverbs, Chapter 30 (The Passion Translation)

[Psalm 30]

He Healed Me

King David’s poetic praise to God

A song for the Feast of Dedication of the dwelling place

Lord, I will exalt you and lift you high,

for you have lifted me up on high!

Over all my boasting, gloating enemies,

you made me to triumph.

O Lord, my healing God,

I cried out for a miracle and you healed me!

You brought me back from the brink of death,

from the depths below.

Now here I am, alive and well, fully restored!

O sing and make melody, you steadfast lovers of God.

Give thanks to him every time you reflect on his holiness!

I’ve learned that his anger lasts for a moment,

but his loving favor lasts a lifetime!

We may weep through the night,

but at daybreak it will turn into shouts of ecstatic joy.

I remember boasting, “I’ve got it made!

Nothing can stop me now!

I’m God’s favored one; he’s made me steady as a mountain!”

But then suddenly, you hid your face from me.

I was panic-stricken and became depressed.

Still I cried out to you, Lord God. I shouted out for mercy, saying,

“What would you gain in my death,

if I were to go down to the depths of darkness?

Will a grave sing your song?

How could death’s dust declare your faithfulness?”

So hear me now, Lord; show me your famous mercy.

O God, be my Savior and rescue me!

Then he broke through and transformed all my wailing

into a whirling dance of ecstatic praise!

He has torn the veil and lifted from me

the sad heaviness of mourning.

He wrapped me in the glory-garments of gladness.

How could I be silent when it’s time to praise you?

Now my heart sings out, bursting with joy—

a bliss inside that keeps me singing,

“I can never thank you enough!”

The Book of Psalms, Poem 30 (The Passion Translation)

[Psalm 11]

For the worship leader. A song of David.

I am already in the soft embrace of the Eternal,

so why do you beckon me to leave, saying,

“Fly like a bird to the mountains.

Look! The wicked approach with bows bent,

sneaking around in the shadows,

setting their arrows against their bowstrings to pierce everyone whose heart is pure.

If the foundations are crumbling,

is there hope for the righteous?”

But the Eternal has not moved; He remains in His holy temple.

He sits squarely on His heavenly throne.

He observes the sons of Adam and daughters of Eve, examining us within and without,

exploring every fiber of our beings.

The Eternal searches the hearts of those who are good,

but He despises all those who can’t get enough of perversion and violence.

If you are evil, He will rain hot lava over your head,

will fill your cup with burning wind and liquid fire to scorch your insides.

The Eternal is right in all His ways;

He cherishes all that is upright.

Those who do what is right in His eyes will see His face.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 11 (The Voice)

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waqasamjadme · 4 years ago

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99 Romantic Love Quotes to Unveil What You Truly Feel About Them

If discovering love was a simple difficulty to deal with, poets, authors, and playwrights wouldn’t have written 1000's of items of artwork to discover it. Romances feed the human soul, however can be likened to residing organisms that typically want injections to remain wholesome.

Nicely, we've your medication proper right here – an amazing assortment of quotes about love, in addition to romantic quotes written particularly so that you can give to that particular somebody to remind him/her simply how vital his/her affection is to your properly being.

1 Well-known Romantic Quotes

2 Romantic Quotes for Her

3 Romantic Quotes for Him

FAMOUS ROMANTIC QUOTES

A fantastic girl delights the attention; a clever girl, the understanding; a pure one, the soul. Minna Antrim

Quite a lot of instances, in our tradition and our society, we put romantic love one way or the other on a better airplane than self-love and friendship love. You'll be able to’t do this. You need to honor and actually totally spend money on all these completely different loving relationships. Delilah

A person’s kiss is his signature. Mae West

A realist, in Venice, would develop into a romantic by mere faithfulness to what he noticed earlier than him. Arthur Symons

All of the home windows of my coronary heart I open to the day. John Greenleaf Whittier

Whenever you take a look at me, whenever you consider me, I'm in paradise. William Makepeace Thackeray

And ever has it been recognized that love is aware of not its personal depth till the hour of separation. Khalil Gibran

On the finish of the day, if the man goes to put in writing the lady a letter, whether or not it’s hen scratch or scribble or appears like a physician’s be aware, if he takes the time to place pen to paper and never sort one thing, there’s one thing so extremely romantic and delightful about that. Meghan Markle

Havana, for all its smells, sweat, crumbling partitions, isolation, and tough historical past, is essentially the most romantic metropolis on the earth. Mark Kurlansky

How distant the celebs appear, and the way far is our first kiss, and ah, how previous my coronary heart. William Butler Yeats

I'm in you and also you in me, mutual in divine love. William Blake

I've at all times been a romantic, a type of individuals who believes {that a} girl in pink circus tights comprises all of the secrets and techniques of the universe. Tom Robbins

I really like Paris for the million causes that everyone loves the town. It’s an extremely romantic and delightful place. Alan Furst

I really like you greater than my very own pores and skin. Frida Kahlo

I really like you the extra in that I imagine you had appreciated me for my very own sake and for nothing else. John Keats

I feel it’s vital to have closure in any relationship that ends – from a romantic relationship to a friendship. It is best to at all times have a way of readability on the finish and know why it started and why it ended. You want that in your life to maneuver cleanly into your subsequent part. Jennifer Aniston

I feel romance is something trustworthy. So long as it’s trustworthy, it’s so disarming. Kristen Stewart

I used to strive to attract my girlfriends. I feel one of the romantic issues that anyone can do is draw a portrait of the particular person you like. Nick Carter

If I can cease one coronary heart from breaking, I shall not stay in useless. Emily Dickinson

In case you are not too lengthy, I'll wait right here for you all my life. Oscar Wilde

In the event you don’t love me, it doesn't matter, anyway I can love for each of us. Stendhal

I’m a hopeless romantic and I imagine that you could find love in many various locations and be very conflicted. I’ve found as I’ve grown up that life is much extra sophisticated than you suppose it's whenever you’re a child. It isn’t only a simple fairytale. Rachel McAdams

I’m not executed with love, however I refuse to settle. I'm a hopeless romantic. And I received’t cease until I get it proper. Halle Berry

It's higher to have cherished and misplaced than by no means to have misplaced in any respect. Samuel Butler

It’s straightforward to get wrapped up in sharing on a regular basis life with a companion. It’s enjoyable to get misplaced in love and romance. It’s the most effective. However holding on to your self whereas doing that's an important factor. Brittany Murphy

I’ve at all times actually been a romantic at coronary heart, and I've at all times needed children, and I feel the concept of sharing your life with the proper particular person is wonderful, truly. Monica Lewinsky

Kiss me and you will notice how vital I'm. Sylvia Plath

Love is a portion of the soul itself, and it's of the identical nature because the celestial respiration of the environment of paradise. Victor Hugo

Love is friendship set on fireplace. Jeremy Taylor

Love is the silent saying and saying of a single identify. Mignon McLaughlin

Love planted a rose, and the world turned candy. Katharine Lee Bates

Love acknowledges no obstacles. It jumps hurdles, leaps fences, penetrates partitions to reach at its vacation spot filled with hope. Maya Angelou

Love, whether or not newly born, or aroused from a deathlike slumber, should at all times create sunshine, filling the guts so filled with radiance, this it overflows upon the outward world. Nathaniel Hawthorne

Morning with out you is a dwindled daybreak. Emily Dickinson

My dearly beloved if I'm to die at this time and by no means see the candy face of you I need you to know that I'm no nice man and am fortunate to have such a girl as you. Wild Invoice Hickok

My coronary heart is sort of a singing chicken. Christina Rossetti

O, thou artwork fairer than the night air clad in the fantastic thing about a thousand stars. Christopher Marlowe

Romance is tempestuous. Love is calm. Mason Cooley

Romance is the glamour which turns the mud of on a regular basis life right into a golden haze. Carolyn Gold Heilbrun

Romantic love is psychological sickness. But it surely’s a pleasurable one. It’s a drug. It distorts actuality, and that’s the purpose of it. It will be not possible to fall in love with somebody that you just actually noticed. Fran Lebowitz

Devil, actually, is the romantic youth of Jesus re-appearing for a second. James Joyce

The lust and attraction are sometimes a given in a romance novel – I need to dig into the weather of true friendship that kind a basis for a strong, gonna-last-forever romantic relationship. Suzanne Brockmann

The actual lover is the person who can thrill you simply by touching your head or smiling into your eyes – or simply by staring into house. Marilyn Monroe

The romantic love we really feel towards the alternative intercourse might be one further assist from God to carry you collectively, however that’s it. All the remainder of it, the real love, is the take a look at. Joan Chen

The sound of a kiss is just not so loud as that of a cannon, however its echo lasts an amazing deal longer. Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr.

There is no such thing as a intuition like that of the guts. Lord Byron

There’s nothing extra romantic than Italian meals. Elisha Cuthbert

There’s one thing in regards to the sound of a prepare that’s very romantic and nostalgic and hopeful. Paul Simon

Custom wears a snowy beard, romance is at all times younger. John Greenleaf Whittier

Real love tales by no means have endings. Richard Bach

Vulnerability is the essence of romance. It’s the artwork of being uncalculated, the willingness to look silly, the braveness to say, “That is me, and I’m taken with you sufficient to point out you my flaws with the hope that you could be embrace me for all that I'm however, extra vital, all that I'm not.” Ashton Kutcher

We're every of us angels with just one wing, and we are able to solely fly by embracing each other. Luciano De Crescenzo

What's love? It's the morning and the night star. Sinclair Lewis

Once I give I give myself. Walt Whitman

Once I stroll with you I really feel as if I had a flower in my buttonhole. William Makepeace Thackeray

Phrases of affection, are works of affection. William R. Alger

You can't lookup on the evening sky on the Planet Earth and never marvel what it’s wish to be up there amongst the celebs. And I at all times lookup on the moon and see it as the only most romantic place throughout the cosmos. Tom Hanks

ROMANTIC QUOTES FOR HER

I completely dread the labors of the day, however the evening, when I'm with you, makes all the toiling value it.

I had no path in life till God introduced you into my world. Thanks for giving me somebody worthy of dedicating my coronary heart and soul to.

Once we met, the place we met, the phrases that got here out of your mouth, and even what you had been sporting are without end imprinted on my coronary heart.

I really like you a lot that I'm prepared to attend till we're married to bodily consummate our union.

It doesn’t matter in case you develop fats, toothless, bald or blind; you'll without end be an important particular person on this world to me as a result of the love I've for you is solidly cemented on my coronary heart.

My love for you is so sturdy there isn't any boundary within the universe that may hold me away from you.

The love I really feel for you is just not based mostly on intercourse. It's about valuing you for the intangible particular person you might be on the within.

When I'm round you I lose all apprehension and worry and simply need to be your servant. If this isn't the definition of affection, then love can't be outlined.

All 5 of my senses are in full submission to your loveliness. I'm however a prepared and ready slave to your love.

I don't worry love, nor do I worry heartbreak. My solely worry is that I fail in making you cheerful as a mate, that if this relationship does dissolve, I'm burdened with the considered not making an attempt my greatest.

I imagine that we're soulmates. I imagine that destiny not solely introduced us collectively but additionally deems that we must always stay so for the whole lot of our lives.

There may be nothing in my possession which in case you so desired I can conceptualize withholding from you. That is my means of exhibiting appreciation and respect to your love.

My inside drive to excel in life is fueled by the vitality of the love I really feel for you.

The love I really feel within the depths of my coronary heart for you is just not based mostly on immaturity, inexperience or infatuation. I do know the tasks of affection and I'm ready to cater for you on all ranges and each step of the best way.

I’m sorry if this may increasingly sound superficial, however each time I take a look at you, the fantastic thing about your physicality makes me fall in love anew yet again. If I had been born as a girl, I might be you. That's how a lot I imagine within the compatibility of our love.

Our hearts have develop into so intertwined that no matter accomplishments I make in life also needs to be attributed to you.

As lifting weights strengthens a bodybuilder, so is shopping for presents for you an train I interact in to strengthen our love.

You and I are even nearer than Adam was to his rib, and if I ever misplaced you, the ache can be extremely insufferable.

ROMANTIC QUOTES FOR HIM

Earlier than we even met, I constructed my residence in anticipation of your arrival. Babe, thanks for being the irreplaceable love of my life.

My job owns my physique, and my schooling owns my thoughts, however my love for you owns my coronary heart.

I like no matter you want, even when I don’t prefer it. In different phrases, I really like you dearly and would do something to make you cheerful.

Romance was one thing that eluded me till I met you. Thanks for being the pioneer of the unchartered territories of my coronary heart.

The one honor that might be higher than having your hand in courtship is to finally have your hand in marriage.

I at all times believed falling in love was for suckers, till I fell in love with you. Now my thoughts can't even conceptualize what life can be like if you weren't current.

Candy darling, when I'm with you it's like we're co-inhabitants within the dream land of euphoria.

I fantasized about falling in love my complete life, and now that it has lastly occurred with you it's a thousand instances extra superb than I anticipated.

If I based mostly love on cash, then I wouldn’t be with you. I really like you for what you possess inside, and I'm assured sooner or later whenever you do develop into extra established that you'll not disappoint me.

I can't predict the longer term, and I perceive issues don't at all times go as deliberate, however I might very very similar to so that you can sooner or later be the daddy of my youngsters.

Don’t ever really feel insecure in my love as a result of regardless of what number of guys could woo me I've no intentions of ever leaving you.

Even when this relationship sooner or later dissolves I do know the love we really feel for one another by no means will. So allow us to do ourselves a favor and present one another the requisite compassion to maintain this bond alive and vibrant.

If there may be one factor you by no means must query in life it's my dedication to this relationship. I really like you very, very a lot, my candy babe.

I might quit half of my organs to be transplanted into your physique if such was required to maintain you alive. Such is the unimaginable depth of my love for you.

Being with you incites a sequence of reactions, a few of which you'll find in any honest love poem, and a few that I’m too ladylike to say.

As a girl who prides herself on independence, falling in love was by no means actually a part of the plan, however there isn't any one on earth I might relatively entrust my coronary heart to than you.

There is no such thing as a sensation extra nice to my physique than your contact. Neither is there any pleasure extra fantastic than the enjoyment your love brings into my coronary heart.

My coronary heart and whole being rejoices every single day since you’re my man. I really like you a lot.

There is no such thing as a co-pilot I might relatively have venturing into the unknown areas of affection than the person that's presently by my aspect.

I'm misplaced in love, with the beating of your coronary heart being the one beacon I would like to steer me in the proper path.

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