#rakuna

[benledessineux]

Some idea for a new platform game named " Rakuna Island " a spiritual sequel of Wario Land.

Want to play some game I made ? Go check my Itchio page : https://viciousgames.itch.io/

#indiegamedev #indiegame #game dev #platform #itchio #wario #land #spiritual #sequel #game #maker #rakuna #island

[francoisl-artblog]

Full Body reward for @benledessineux

Here's Rakuna ! She's a young determined character, ready to steal your gold à la Wario Land style ! Really, if there's once kind of game I would like to see more, it's this one. (And if you haven't, go check Pizza Tower and Anton Blast)

Anyway, here she is ! It was fun to work at, I tried something slightly different for the shading, I hope you'll like the results !

Rakuna (c) @benledessineux

Artwork made by me

#digital art #illustration #artwork #reward #character design #digital illustration #sketchbook #illustration digital #digital #digitalart #OC #original character #Wario Land

[isadomna]

Hafsa bint al-Hajj al-Rakuniya (c.1135-1191) 

She is perhaps one of the most celebrated Andalusian female poets of medieval Arabic literature. Her father was a wealthy Berber from Granada, so we may assume she grew up in luxury and received an excellent education. By the time the Almohads wrested the rule of Al-Andalus from the Almoravids, she had already started a love affair with the Governor’s secretary and her fellow poet Abu Ja'far Ahmad ibn Sa’id. From the evidence of both her poetry and his, it seems that she instigated the relationship and continued to visit him openly, despite the far stricter morality of the new Almohad rulers. Sometime around 1160, Abu Ja'far joined a rebellion against his employer, Abd al-Mu’min, governor of Granada. In 1163, he was captured and executed. Many knew and respected Hafsa as a teacher. Indeed, one of her colleagues described her as the most noteworthy teacher of her time. Her students were numerous and after the death of Abu Ja'far, she traveled widely. In the end she wound up in Marrakesh in Morocco, where the Almohad Caliph Abu Yusuf Yaqub al-Mansur engaged her to teach his daughters. She would remain there for the rest of her life.

Hafsa fue hija de un noble de origen bereber, rico e influyente. Pasó su infancia y su juventud en Granada, en una época de agitación política intensa, que marcó la caída de la dinastía Almorávide y la instauración del califato de los Almohades. Por su talento y su cultura, así como por su belleza, pronto ocupó un lugar importante en la corte de los almohades de Granada, desarrollando una actividad literaria y educativa intensa y adquiriendo una reputación que llegó a traspasar los límites de Granada.

En este ambiente de la Corte y de la poesía granadina conoció al poeta Abu Yafar Ibn Said, perteneciente a la familia de los Banu Saíd, con el cual estableció una relación afectiva y pública hacia el año 1154. Esta relación dio lugar a un intenso intercambio de poemas amorosos entre los dos amantes, los cuales se han conservado hasta nuestros días. Así mismo, sus amoríos fueron cantados por los poetas de su entorno. Su situación se complica en el año 1156, en que llega a Granada Abu Saíd Utman, gobernador almohade, hijo del califa Abd al-Mumin, quien cae perdidamente enamorado de la poetisa. Oficialmente, Hafsa no cedió ante los sentimientos del gobernador, pero dejó morir su amor por Abu Yafar, quizás cansada de las veleidades afectuosas de este último o por las presiones del príncipe o de su familia. En 1158, es enviada a Rabat junto a un grupo de poetas y nobles granadinos ante el califa Abd al-Mumin. Fue éste quien le puso el sobrenombre de al-Rakuniyya (derivado de Rakuna, un tipo de salón literario).

Debido al conflictivo triángulo amoroso, Abu Yafar, quien había sido amigo y secretario del príncipe Abu Saíd, tomó a éste como objeto de sus poemas satíricos, y terminó tomando parte en una rebelión política contra el gobernador, dando lugar a su encarcelamiento y, finalmente, a su crucifixión en el año 1163, en Málaga. Hafsa lloró la prisión y la muerte de su amado, reflejándolo en unos versos punzantes y llegando hasta el extremo de vestir el hábito de viuda por él, a pesar de las amenazas del gobernador. Sumida en su tristeza, se retira de la Corte, abandonando la poesía y consangrándose en exclusiva a la enseñanza. Así vivió durante gran parte de su vida, hasta que en el año 1184, acepta la invitación del califa Abu Yusuf Yaqub al-Mansur quien la propone dirigir la educación de los príncipes almohades en Marrakesh, donde permaneció hasta el año de su muerte.

#Hafsa bint al-Hajj #al-Rakuniya #spanish history #women in history #al andalus

[raygirlramblings]

Artfight 2022 Attacks - set 04

Ceallach for @mewi-or-lara

Breezie Daze for @thessdrawsstuff

Pancake for Frogcanvas (Artfight)

David Faulkner for Aerospiders (Artfight)

Rakuna for BenLeDessineux (Artfight)

Raspberry Sunshake for Eclipsepearl (Artfight)

Set 4 already?  I can’t believe I’ve done 24 Artfight attacks XD  I didn’t even know if I was going to get 10 done!  I can’t help myself, people just have too many fun oc’s to draw!

#artfight #my arts

[haveyoureadthisscifibook]

A few suggestions

Bold as Love by Gwyneth Jones – it was originally marketed as fantasy and there are minor magical elements, but is set in a "15 minutes into the future" setting and it has a lot more SF elements, like cybernetic brain implants, immersion holograms, and lights powered by people's cellular energy. It was also reprinted as part of SF Masterworks.

Counterweight by Djuna

The Queue by Basma Abdel Aziz

The Restoration Game by Ken Macleod

Red Spider White Web by Misha

Ascension by Jacqueline Koyanagi

Windswept by Adam Rakunas

hello! these are all queued. two questions:

were you looking for just Bold as Love itself, or did you also want the rest of the series?

likewise, did you just want the first Windswept book, or did you also want the sequel?

#clarification requests #also big shoutout to Ascension. severely underrated book

[elirluna]

of hayatımda disiplinin zerresi kalmadı fuck it we ball ilkesiyle yaşıyorum. rakuna dönüştüm

[nekocya]

[elcorreografico]

📬 Restauración integral del #monumentolituano Rūpintojėlis 🌎 #Berisso | #ColectividadLituana | #Institucionales | #Sociedad 💻 La Colectividad Lituana de Berisso informa que se culminaron los trabajos de restauración integral del monumento lituano “Rūpintojėlis”, ubicado en Avenida Génova entre 165 y 166; manifestación cultural que se convirtió en un tradicional punto de encuentro de todos los lituanos de la región para celebrar fechas patrias, así como lugar de visita de delegaciones que provienen del exterior en su paso por Berisso.

#Berisso #Bronio Rakunas #Colectividad Lituana #Cristo Preocupado #Emiliano Juzwa #Fabián Cagliardi #Flor Nacional Lituana #Gonzalo Hayon #Juan Pamparas #Juan Valuntas #Milenio de Lituania #Raúl Petronis #ruda #Rupintojelis #Sociedad Cultural Lituana “Nemunas” #Víctor Daskus #Vivero Municipal

[hindidailynews2020]

लॉकडाउन के चलते इस साल नहीं होगी भगवान लिंगराज की रुकुना रथ यात्रा कोरोना वायरस के मद्देनजर देशभर में 21 दिन के लॉकडाउन (बंद) की वजह से भुवनेश्वर में इस साल भगवान लिंगराज की रुकुना रथ यात्रा नहीं निकलेगी। इस वर्ष नई दिल्ली में गणतंत्र दिवस परेड के दौरान ओडिशा... Source link

#Coronavirus #Hindi News #Hindustan #Lockdown #Lord Lingaraj #News in Hindi #Rakuna Rath Yatra #कोरोना वायरस #भगवान लिंगराज #भुवनेश्वर #रुकुना रथ #लॉकडाउन #हिन्दुस्तान

[vstranslations]

Taichi Mukai - Michi - Lyrics

song (youtube) Japanese/Romaji/English lyrics under the cut

Title: The Path

この道も あの空も 僕らを未来へ紡ぐ もっと上へ まだ遠くへ 続いてる

頬を撫でる風は冷たいのに 僕の体は燃えている いつからか冷えていた心は 見違えるほど違うから

あの辛かった思い出も 弱音吐いた夜でさえも この時を迎える為のものだったんだ

この道も あの空も 僕らを未来へ紡ぐ もっと上へ まだ遠くへ 続いてる

苦しくて投げ出しそうな時も もうダメだと思ったとしても 僕を信じてる仲間たちを 思えばまた進めるよ

あと一歩だけでもいい その一歩を繰り返す中で 言葉に出来ない気持ちが 先へ繋ぐ

この場所が いつの日か 懐かしく思えるように もっと上へ まだ遠くへ 続いてる

楽な道などどこにもない 坂を登りきった先に 他じゃ味わえない喜び 手にしたものは誇り

欲しかったものが手の中にある けど終わりはなく まだ道は続く 後ろは見飽きた 振り返らない また風が吹く

この道も あの空も 僕らを未来へ紡ぐ もっと上へ まだ遠くへ

この場所が いつの日か 懐かしく思えるように もっと上へ まだ遠くへ 続いてる

--

Kono michi mo, ano sora mo bokura o mirai e tsumugu motto ue e mada tooku e tsuzuiteru

Hoo o naderu kaze wa tsumetai no ni boku no karada wa moeteiru itsu kara ka hieteita kokoro wa michigaeru hodo chigau kara

Ano tsurakatta omoide mo yowane haita yoru de sae mo kono toki o mukaeru tame no mono dattanda

Kono michi mo, ano sora mo bokura o mirai e tsumugu motto ue e mada tooku e tsuzuiteru

Kurushikute nage dashisou na toki mo mou dame da to omotta toshite mo boku o shinjiteru nakamatchi o omoeba mata susumeru yo

Ato ippo dake demo ii sono ippo o kuri kaesu naka de kotoba ni dekinai kimochi ga saki e tsunagu

Kono basho ga itsuka no hi ka natsukashiku omoeru you ni motto ue e mada tooku e tsuzuiteru

Rakuna michi nado doko ni mo nai saka o nobori kitta saki ni hoka ha ajiwanai yorokobi te ni shita mono wa hokori

Hoshikatta mono ga te no naka ni aru kedo owari wa naku mada michi wa tsuzuku ushiro wa miakita, furi kaeranai mata kaze ga fuku

Kono michi mo, ano sora mo bokura o mirai e tsumugu motto ue e mada tooku e

Kono basho ga itsuka no hi ka natsukashiku omoeru you ni motto ue e mada tooku e tsuzuiteru

--

This path and the sky above guide us to our future It leads us higher, to a place that is yet far away

The wind caressing my face is cold, but my body feels like it’s on fire I don’t know when my heart had frozen over, but I’m not like that at all anymore

All those painful memories and even the nights I spent complaining were all to help me face this moment

This path and the sky above guide us to our future It leads us higher, to a place that is yet far away

When everything is too much and I want to just quit, or I think can’t do it anymore, I remember those who believe in me and feel like I can keep going again

Take things one step at a time Keep making that one step forward, and those feelings you can’t put into words will connect to your future

So that we can one day look back and think fondly of this place, we’re going higher to a place that is yet far away

There is no easy path to be found Getting past that uphill struggle grants a joy like no other - It’s given me “pride”

I now have what I wanted in the palm of my hand, but this isn’t the end The road still goes on I’ve grown bored of what’s behind me; I won’t go back And so the wind blows forward…

This path and the sky above guide us to our future It leads us higher, to a place far away

So that we can one day look back and think fondly of this place, we’re going higher to a place that is yet far away

#taichi mukai #song translation

[subsequentibis]

reading list:

-lord of the rings trilogy -five remaining aubreyad novels -borne by jeff vandemeer -fabulosa! by paul baker -the fireman by joe hill -windswept by adam rakunas -alanna the lionness trilogy and subsequent tortall books -temeraire series

#ignore me #reference #this is mostly for my own future reference #i want to try to go in order listed here but i may jump around... #gotta finish lotr by august #i want to get to borne fabulosa and windswept soon bc they're books my parents got me #dying to finish the aubreyad and hopefully kick some drawing inspo back into me with those #the tamora pierce is mostly bc my roommate rly wants me to read those #aaand a lot of folks seem to like temeraire and it's like. dragons i think which sounds fun #if i ever say i'm bored again kick me in the shin and show me this post

[krimsonkats]

Redraw of an old OC from middle school.

#my art #her name is rakuna #if you happen to come across anyone online by that name there's a pretty good chance it's me

[sanathanadharmasblog]

Intend that you are releasing all the negativity from your body, mind and spirit.....and ....Draw this Symbols over air with two fingers 3 times and say "RAKUNA" 3 times.

[firefly-fez]

Sunset

A Wrath of Midea flashback fanfiction, detailing the last meeting of Vanora Stitchsmith, and her long-lost love, Gwaine Voss.

Gwaine stood gathering his courage outside Vanora’s window. 

He was leaving for the army first thing tomorrow, and he’d been planning how he would spend this last day with Vanora for weeks. It was finally here, but he was distracted by something his mother had said to him earlier.

“If you have feelings for Vanora, you need to tell her before you leave.”

Her words threw him completely off-guard. Honestly, he had no clue where his mother got the idea from.

He tried to put the interaction out of his mind.

Vanora sat in the house, reading a book. There was a gentle knock at the window. It was only a small cutaway from the wall, with no glass pane to give shelter from the outside, only a fabric curtain to provide privacy. 

She put her book down when she heard the knock.

“Hey, ‘Nora, it’s me. Come outside.” 

“Gwaine?” She spoke in a low voice, not wanting to disturb the rest of her family. Only her parents were around, finishing up their tea at the tiny dining table in the corner of the small home. Freya was out with Terry and Perry. It was only late afternoon, but a gentle lull had settled over their home, and she didn’t want to dispel it. She drew back the curtain, revealing a ruggedly handsome young man of seventeen with an energetic charm about him. He had olive skin, messy brown hair and warm dark eyes. She smiled when she saw him.

“I got a present for you.”  He lifted up a small woven basket, the contents of which were hidden by a lavender-coloured cloth. The muscles in his arms were supple, well-toned from his training to prepare for the army. Still smiling, she crossed by the table where her parents sat and went to meet him outside.

As she walked past, Balinor raised an eyebrow at Alice. 

“They’re not…?” He asked, letting the question trail off in the air.

“No. Not yet.” She replied, a sly smile playing across her lips.

Balinor gave a small chuckle.

Outside, Vanora joined Gwaine and with a dramatic flair he lifted off the lavender cloth, revealing the supplies for their picnic: one small loaf of freshly baked bread, a handful of strawberries and a small square parcel, about the book she’d just been reading. It was wrapped neatly in its own bright yellow cloth and tied up with a ribbon. 

“That, my dear Nora,” he said, noticing her expression of curiosity, “is my most special parting gift.” His eyes danced as he spoke of it. “But I shall wait to reveal what it is when our picnic has begun.”

Watching on through the window, Vanora’s parents couldn’t help smiling at each other as they witnessed the young couple.

“You want to revise your earlier statement?” Balinor whispered.

Alice just smiled slyly back at him. “I remember when you used to look at me like that.” She teased, matching his volume.

“Excuse me? Used to? Don’t I shower you with enough thoughtful gifts anymore?” He smiled, crossing over to sit with his wife on the other side of the table. He kissed her, then put his arms around her and they watched their daughter through the window.

Alice ran her hand up and down gently over her husband’s arm. “She grew up so fast, didn’t she?”

He squeezed her tightly in affirmation.

Oblivious to her parent’s remarks, Vanora stood examining her best friend’s gift with a warm glow in her heart. When she looked up at him, he seemed uncharacteristically nervous. An expression of concern crossed her face. “Are you okay?” She asked, gently.

In truth, Gwaine was nervous – he was trying not to think about the conversation he had with his mother.

Her words echoed through his mind again: “If you have feelings for Vanora, you need to tell her before you leave.” 

He didn’t, of course. He was sure of it. His whole life would be different tomorrow, of course he was nervous! It had nothing to do with her. 

Nothing to do with the feeling of her hand on his as he held the basket. 

Nothing to do with the intensity of her gaze as she studied his face. 

Nothing at all. 

“Gwaine?” Vanora looked at him with concern.

“I’m okay.” He said, in a gentle tone. “just – going to miss home, is all.” He was chickening out with his answer, and he knew she could tell. “I thought we’d go to our usual spot.” He said, taking a step back and offering out his hand. “Unless you want your parents to keep spying on us.” He looked to the window, where Vanora’s parents were not-so-stealthily watching on. Vanora followed his gaze. She rolled her eyes at her parents’ antics.

Alice was leaning her head on her husband’s chest, hiding her laughter with her hand. “Busted,’ she whispered, so only her husband could hear. 

Balinor got up from his position and, shooting a wink at his wife as he passed her, walked over to the window. “Guilty as charged,” he said, apologetically. He looked at his eldest daughter, trying to gauge how serious things were between her and Gwaine. They seemed friendly. She didn’t seem flustered or embarrassed at being observed. Vanora was always pretty upfront with them, and he trusted her. Plus, Gwaine was a good kid. He looked at the two of them for a moment. If this was a date, he didn’t think either of them knew it. He addressed Gwaine when he spoke.

“You’re going on a picnic?”

“Yes, sir.” Gwaine replied. Balinor supressed a smile at Gwaine’s formality. Sir? He thought. Since when am I sir?

“And you’ll bring her home before dark?”

“Yes.”

Balinor couldn’t help himself. “Yes…?” He prompted. Out of Gwaine’s view, Alice rolled her eyes at her husband, trying to keep her laughter quiet.

“Yes sir.” He half expected Gwaine to salute. He fought back the urge to laugh. 

“Alright. Have fun.” He smiled at them both, before drawing back the curtain across the window, giving them their privacy. Alice slapped his arm lightly, scolding him for how he hazed Gwaine. 

‘Don’t tease him like that,” she said, with a smile.

“I couldn’t help it,” he replied, laughing to himself. “Did you see the look on his face?”

Alice sobered up for a moment. “Do you really think they’re…?”

He pulled his wife into an embrace. “That will be up to them, my love.” He kissed her head, and hoped his daughter was happy.

She was happy, at present. Once the curtain was drawn across the window, she took Gwaine’s hand and he guided her towards the snowdrop field. They didn’t talk much on the way, just walked together, hand in hand, each trying to soak up as much of the other’s presence before he left the next day.

They had both come, over the years, to think of the snowdrop “field” as their little hidey hole. This is where they came to make their blankets most winters, this is where they met each other after the events of the day, this is where he held her when he was afraid she’d lost her father, and this is where she coaxed him out of his shell whenever he tried to hide how the toll of their too-stressful lives weighed most heavily on him.

It was a small and unknown hideaway, away from the main streets with no view of the shanty houses they called home. It was just at the edge of the woods, where flowers grew all around them, and the gentle bubble of the Rakuna river gave a calm air. The flowers, snowdrops, speckled the grass. It was a pretty little area, but nothing spectacular. It was simple and small and calm. It wasn’t particularly picturesque or breathtaking – the only sight that could steal Gwaine’s breath here was the smile of the girl in front of him.

She was paying attention to the flowers that grew in the area, trying to lay their picnic blanket down in an area where they wouldn’t be crushed. He took in the sight of her, trying to capture the moment in his mind.

“Are you going to help?” She gestured to the picnic equipment that needed to be set up, not that there was all that much to be presented. 

“Sorry,” he said, and helped her lay out what was, for them, anyway, a banquet’s worth of food. A single loaf of home-baked bread, a handful of strawberries, and a small, neatly wrapped parcel. She gave a small laugh at his distracted mind. 

“Are you going to tell me what that is?” She asked, gesturing to the parcel.

He picked it up and held it out to her. “See for yourself,” he said.

She took it, and he watched with anticipation as she opened the gift. She took off the wrapping, exposing a small container and removed the lid to reveal – her jaw dropped in wonder – real honeycomb.

She looked up at him in shock. “How did you – “

“Took me a while.” He ran his hand through his hair nervously. “Made a deal with one of the local farmers. In exchange for three days manual labour, he – “

“Three days? Just for me? I – “ 

She looked down at the gift again, speechless. 

When she looked up again, she smiled at him, when the warmth of her smile lit up her eyes, the earth lost all gravity.

The weightless feeling in his stomach knocked the breath out of him, and for a moment all he could pay attention to were her bright green eyes. 

“If you have feelings for Vanora, you need to tell her before you leave.”

His mother’s words echoed through his mind again. But he didn’t. He was sure of it.

“Hey, are you listening to me?” He suddenly noticed Vanora had taken a step closer and put her hand on his chest. He hoped she wouldn’t notice how fast his heart was beating. He tried to push his mother’s words out of his mind. He didn’t. He was… a little less sure of it than he was a second ago.

Vanora seemed to search his face for a reason to explain his uneasiness. Then, she hugged him. “I was saying thank you,” she said, gently.

He wrapped his arms around her. He wanted to hold her as tightly as he could. Her embrace grounded him. The world slowed down as he held her. He dismissed his mother’s words echoing around in his mind – this felt familiar. He felt the same way about Vanora as he always had. 

Vanora pulled away a little to study his face – she held him by his shoulders, and his hands rested on her waist. He liked being close to her. He wondered when she’d be this close to him again. THe very thought made his world feel a little bit darker.

“Hey,” she spoke softly, “what’s wrong?” 

Without even thinking about it, he ran his hand through her hair and cupped her cheek. It wasn’t until he felt her stiffen slightly under his touch that he realised his mistake. Oh crap, he thought. She probably thinks you’re trying to kiss her. He was just about to pull his hand away when she placed hers over it and tilted her head, leaning in to the touch. “Tell me what’s bothering you,” she insisted. He hesitated for a moment. 

He stepped back, towards their picnic. She maintained her hold on his hand. She didn’t want to let him go. 

“What’s bothering me, dear Nora, is that the sun has begun to set and our beautiful feast will go to waste unless we commence our supper now.” He spoke with his usual charismatic flair – which is a tactic he often used to disguise his sadness. It was an act, and she could see straight through it. 

He sat down, and gestured for her to join him. She did, but she seemed downhearted. He hated seeing her this sad. 

They sat side by side and watched the fading sun. While they ate, he relayed the story of how he convinced the farmer to give him the honey, in his usual larger-than-life way. She watched him sadly as he spoke. She wondered how long it would be before she saw him again. The very thought made her world feel a little bit colder. 

When Gwaine finished his enchanting tale, his face fell when he saw the sadness in her eyes. He sat back down next to her and took her hand. “That story was supposed to make you smile.”

She looked like she was trying not to cry. “It’s just… you went to all this effort for me.”

He didn’t quite know what to say to that. She shivered in the cold. He put his arm around her. “Sorry,” he said, “I didn’t think to bring a blanket.” She put his arms around his waist, and bit her lip, fighting back tears. The sight of her sadness was a weight on his chest. He couldn’t bear it.

He stood up, and held out his hand to her. “Dance with me.” She hesitated. She looked at him with uncertainty, caught a little off guard. “It’ll warm you up.” She got up and took his hand. He entwined his fingers with her and lifted up her other hand to place it on his shoulder. He took a step closer and – trying to ignore the way his heartbeat raced when he did so - placed his left hand on the small of her back. She held her breath when he did so, and he was worried he was making her uncomfortable. “Is this okay?” He asked.

She nodded. She looked about as nervous as he felt. But she mostly looked sad, and he knew why. The sun was getting lower with every passing minute. Bright orange streaks lit up the sky, but they wouldn’t last much longer. 

He led her into a slow waltz, and they settled into a comfortable pace before he decided to shake things up a bit. He gradually increased the impressiveness of each manoeuvre, spinning her around and doing every wild and dramatic move he could think of. The end result was a pretty sloppy-looking dance, but it made her laugh, and that was precisely the point.

“How did you get so good at this?” She asked.

“Believe it or not, Nora, a swashbuckler must be light on their feet in battle, which requires good balance and hand-eye coordination. Dancing is… a surprisingly effective way to hone those particular skills.”

“Fair enough.”

“Besides, a dance is a long-standing tradition in ways for a soldier to say –“ he cut himself off, not wanting to say that word -  “…to do before parting ways with the people he cares about.”

“Is it now?”

“Oh yes, I researched the various ways to say – “  again, he couldn’t say it. “…to ease the parting of ways quite extensively.”

She chuckled. She took a moment to focus on properly keeping pace with the dance. She wasn’t quite as naturally light on her feet as he was. “So,” she looked up again, “What were the other ways?”

“Number one,” he twirled her around, looking her up and down as her skirt swirled around her as they danced, “organise a time for you and your…“  - he scrambled for an alternative to ‘loved one’ - “…chosen person to spend together before you leave.”

He spun her back towards him, and returned his hand to her waist. “Number two,” he continued, “do something special for her, that she might remember your generous nature.” Her eyes wandered over his shoulder, towards the honeycomb.

“Number three,” she rested her head against his chest, “give her a rose as a reminder of your affection.”

He ran his hand gently up and down the small of her back. “Number four,” he rested his chin on her head and whispered gently to her, “dance with her, that you might have an opportunity to say everything you need to say.”

“Number five,” he ran his hand up her back to her shoulder and used the support it gave him to dip her. There he was, standing over her in the fading sun in a field of flowers, his face inches away from hers. Their eyes met. Her eyes were such a brilliant, bright shade of green. If the light in her eyes were the only light in all the world, he thought, it would be enough. 

She squeezed his hand. “What’s number five?” she prompted. 

“…Give her one last kiss before you leave.” He looked away before he spoke, lifted her back up to a standing position and stepped away, holding her only by her hands. He cleared his throat. “It was at that point I realised the list was intended for one’s girlfriend, and not just…” he scrambled for the right word – “…anyone,” he finished, lamely.

“What do you mean, ‘just anyone’?” she replied, in mock offense.

He laughed. “Sorry. The list was intended for one’s romantic partner, and not…” he took a deep breath, “one’s most trusted and valued friend.”

“That’s better. But, I mean, really?” She looked at him dubiously. 

A lightning bolt went through his heart. Was she saying that they weren’t…

“Nothing tipped you off before that point?”

Oh, right. The list.

“Hey,” he said, defensively, “everything on that list, excluding the kiss, is a perfectly reasonable thing to do with a friend.”

She crossed her arms in disagreement. “Really? Even the rose?”

“I give you flowers all the time,” he objected.

“Right, but there’s a big difference between a snowdrop and a rose, Gwaine.”

His brow furrowed in confusion. “Is there?” 

“Roses represent love, everyone knows that.” She shook her head in exasperation. 

“…so, what does a snowdrop represent?” 

She looked to the flowers in the field they stood in. “I don’t know.” She shrugged. “They always remind me of you.” 

She turned back to face him. Now that they’d stopped moving, she felt the cold of the impending night settling in once again. She drew her arms close to her chest and shivered. Gwaine knew that the correct thing for a respectable gentleman to do in such a situation is to give the lady his jacket, but he wasn’t wearing one. So, he drew her into a hug instead and rubbed his hand up and down against her bare arms to generate warmth.

“I know what’s on your mind, you know. Why you’re so uneasy around me tonight.” 

Her words were like a punch to his stomach. Did she know what Minelda had said? Did she take more note of her parents watching them through the window than he thought? 

“All of this,” she gestured to the picnic. “You’re trying to say it… without saying it.”

When she met his gaze, understanding clicked. A lump formed in his throat. 

Vanora stepped toward him and put her hand on his chest. She took a deep breath, trying to be brave. “I – “ her voice cracked. She looked down and took another breath to steady her rising emotions. The only warmth she felt in all the evening came from his presence. The light was fading fast. She looked up at him, her bright eyes brimmed with tears. 

“I am trying to be supportive,” she said, struggling to keep her voice even. “You’re - you’re trying to do a good thing.” She pressed her lips together to keep them from quivering. “But it’ll be easier for me to let you go if you say it.” 

She took in the gentle glow of his deep brown eyes. If the warmth in his eyes was the only warmth in all the world, she thought, it would be enough.

He rubbed his thumb across her cheek to wipe her tears away. He owed her this, he knew it, but he couldn’t get the words past the lump in his throat. 

He stepped away and did a little turn on the spot, to orient himself towards the flowers. “I am coming back, you know.” He picked a flower and looked at it for a moment. He walked back over to her, holding her by the waist. “As surely as a snowdrop blooms every winter, you will see me again.”

“But what if – “ 

“Don’t even say that. I’ll be okay, I – “

“You can’t promise that, Gwaine.” Tears streamed down her face. Hot tears were stinging his eyes, too. 

He tucked the flower behind her ear. 

She ran her hand through his hair and held his cheek, doing anything to touch him, anything to hold on to his warmth in the fading light. 

“Please,” she pleaded, her voice breaking, “say it.”

Tears streamed down his face. He took a step closer, now close enough to her that their noses were almost touching – but she didn’t stiffen under his intimacy like she did before. Her hand was on the back of his neck now, tugging him closer. 

Vanora’s heart was beating so fast by now she half expected him to be able to hear it. She didn’t care. This was a whole magnitude of intimacy greater than she was used to them being, but here and now, on the cold evening of their last day together, she needed it. She liked being close to him.

They held their gaze for one intense moment – he gazed longingly at the light in her eyes and she at the warmth in his, before Gwaine closed the last distance between them, by pressing his forehead to hers. 

He was going to miss her light.

She was going to miss his warmth.

He could feel fresh tears streaming down his face. He swallowed and took a deep breath. She was right. He needed to say it.

She squeezed her eyes tight shut, sending a fresh bout of tears flooding over.

He sniffled and cleared his throat. Standing there, his forehead against hers, closer than he’d ever held her before, he managed to summon the strength he needed to say the words.

“Goodbye, Nora.”

She choked back a sob.

“Goodbye, Gwaine.”

Back at the house, Vanora’s parents had the cloth that passed for a door open so they could keep an eye out for their daughter’s return. It was almost dark, and the young couple would miss their curfew if they were out much longer.

Soon enough, Alice and Balinor could hear their daughter’s voice, speaking gently with Gwaine. They were walking hand in hand, Gwaine carrying their now empty picnic basket in his free hand. They stopped when they arrived at the doorway, Vanora gave him one last, sad smile and Gwaine placed the basket down.

It was dark out – the sun was dying. 

They embraced, held tightly onto one another in one last, lingering hug.

When she let him go, the sun was gone.

#fluff #romance #wrath of midea #fanfiction #pathfinder fanfiction #fantasy #oneshot

[flightboundtrolls]

[as soon as rakuna had disappeared over the buildings, someone smelling vaguely of seawater and bleach stepped behind Krylon.] \| why hello there. you look... new around here :) |/ - rat-trolls

[krylon startles like a cat, not daring to turn around in case she reveals herself as an obvious alien.]

h. hey. what’s up, man? ha- who are you?

i’m just packing up, r-really. don’t gotta worry about me getting in your way...

@rat-trolls

#krylon

[emra666]

EMRA- LOPOV U LJUBAVI  Chapter 8

"Znate li Vi kako doći do kraljeve odaje? I kako ću znati kako izgleda Grašo?" zapita Dornelija rakuna.

"Gospodična, ja sam Vam ovdje već 46 godina, nisam prstom mrdnuo van, ne znam više ni koja je desna strana... Što se Graše tiče on Vam je kričavo ružičast, ima tri velika oka i ljubičastu rokezu, mislim da ga nećete promašiti. Samo Vas moram upozoriti, Grašo jako puno plače, ako ga želite izbaviti iz dvorca nećujno, poškakljajte ga 3 puta po desnom stopalu, zaspat će ko Snjeguljica... Ili je bila Matovilka? Uglavnom, prestat će plakati! " reče joj rakun.

"Hvala Vam, o hvala Vam plemeniti rakune..."

"Slavko."

"Oh Slavko! Želim Vam ugodnu večer, moram brzo naći Grašu!" krene Dornelija.

"Čekajte malo! A što ću ja dobiti zauzvrat, za ove informacije koje sam dobrodušno podijelio s Vama?" digne obrvu Slavko.

"Uh.. Pa šta biste željeli?"

"Pokažite mi grudi."

Dornelija se skameni.

"Ma ne vaše, tamo na kraju hodnika je vilenjački pornografski magazin, stražaru je tu i tamo dosadno pa ga drži uz sebe, nikad ne uhvatim pravi kut da dobijem dobar pogled."

Dornelijii je laknulo i polako izdahne zrak za koji nije ni znala da je držala. Prošeta do stražarevog mjesta na kojem je on glasno hrkao i polako mu uzme časopis iz ruke i odnese ga Slavku.

"Hvala Vam princezoo, možete sad ić, ja tu imam posla" osmijehne se listajući stranice.

Dornelija istrči odande brzinom munje.

Luta hodnicima i proklinje se što nije bar istražila prostorije, sad bi joj put bio lakši. Znala je da kralj ima reumu pa mu je teško penjati se uz stepenice. Mora da je njegova odaja na nižim katovima.

"Dornelija, sjeti se da kralj ima svoje gobline koji ga nose okolo, možda ga tako nose i po stepenicama!" dobaci Lukrecije i doda " Ja mislim da je odaja na vrhu trećeg tornja."

Dornelija nije bila daleko od trećeg tornja pa je vrijedilo provjeriti. Lukrecije je bio u pravu. Ali slijedio je još teži zadatak. Ući i izaći iz kraljeve odaje bez da je otkrivena.

Oprezno je otvorila vrata i zavirila unutra. Kad shvati da je sama, brzo uđe i zatvori vrata za sobom. Kopala je po sobi i po ladicama te se nagledala više stvari nego što je željela.

"Sekicee gle tamo na zidu onooo!" povuče ju Marelije.

Na zidu se nalazio veliki sat s gumbom u sredini. Dornelija brzo stisne taj gumb i dio zida se otvori otkrivajući tajni prolaz.

Uzme baklju sa zida da si osvijetli put i krene lagano unutra.

Tamo je bilo raznih stvari. Dragulja i nakita, različiti modeli lažnih brkova (znala je da je nemoguće da su tako gusti i lijepi prirodno!), self help knjige o skrivanju homoseksualnosti za početnike, viagra, cutout Zlatka Pejakovića i...Grašo! Nalazio se u staklenci na jednoj od polica. Dornelija ga izvadi i stavi u ruke. Grašo počne jako plakati. Princeza ga panično poškaklja po desnoj nozi ali on ne prestane, umjesto tog krene bacati vatru iz usta, režati i povećavati se.

"Onaj glupi rakun ti je rekao krivo stopalo!" uzbuni se Lukrecije.

Zmaj je sad postajao prevelik za prostoriju u kojoj su bili i prije nego što je Dornelija uspjela reagirati, on izleti natrag u odaju i van kroz prozor, razbijajući ga.

U tom trenu u odaju utrči kraljica Lanonija.

"Šta se ovdje dešava?!!" panično se okrene po prostoriji. "O dragi Titonije!!" izjavi vidivši rasul koji je napravio Grašo izlazeći iz sobe.

"Kraljice! Mogu objasniti sve, molim Vas nemojte reći ništa kralju!" Zamoli očajno Dornelija.

Odjenom se izvana čuje grohotni smijeh. Njih dve otrče do prozora i vani ugledaju Kardana Karnoča kako jaše Grašu.

"UUUUUuuuUuu HVAla Ti DoRnELIJOOOMMMM, ZAHVAljujuĆi TeBI naPOKOn Se MOGU OSvetiti GLuPom GVANU IOLIĆU! UzEo mi JE MOG zmAJa! SADA JA njeMu uZIMAM NEKog koG Voli UHUHUUUU MMMM!!!!" izdere se Kardan.

Prestravljena Dornelija u tom trenu spazi da Grašo nogama drži duboko zaspalog Anteonija. Kardan uzbuđeno zapjevuši i brzo nestane u noć zajedno s Anteonijem.

KAKO ĆE DORNELIJA SPASITI ANTEONIJA???? KAKO ĆE SVE OBJASNITI KRALJU I KRALJICI??? ŠTA SE DOGAĐA??????? JA STVARNO VIŠE NEMAM POJMA??????

Saznajte u sljedećem chapteru EMRA-LOPOV U LJUBAVI