[Oh. Oops. Jill's eyes widen as she realizes she's just caused a panic when she truly didn't mean to--and it makes her heart jump in turn. He's said yes, essentially, but she didn't mean to make him feel unprepared.]
Ah--[In her panic, she grabs his face. Calm!! They've got this.] Wait. It's alright. I didn't mean to put you on the spot, Clive.
[ Torn between polarities: being impossibly happy that Jill says yes, and a little mortified at himself for jumping the proverbial gun. Clive clears his throat, nuzzles against the palm of Jill's hand, and closes his eyes for a brief moment to regroup.
Panic, begone. Thirty-three years into his life, and he still feels like a boy in front of the woman he loves. ]
―When all of this is over. I promise you, Jill.
[ Rings, his future, a title that isn't Outlaw. He would like to be her husband, if only she'll let him. ]
[Like today. It's perfect, to her. A cool afternoon, quiet, private. In this place that meant so much to him. A place that still does. She takes advantage of having his face in her hands to pull him down for a kiss before she goes for another tight embrace, happy.]
I want to see the rest of the world with you, Clive. And, when the time comes, settle down together. Whatever that looks like.
[ No matter how many times they kiss, Clive's heart always flutters afterwards, as if it's the first time he's ever touched her. He wasn't lying when he'd said that she means everything to him, and telling her so here, in this small space where the world sometimes felt insurmountable, puts his current state of things in perspective.
He's lucky. Some people live a lifetime without knowing what it's like to put their heart in someone else's hands. He has never been defined by tragedy, because he'd always had the blessing of the woman he was meant to be with forever.
Nosing against Jill's hair, Clive nods. ]
We will. I'll make sure of it. [ His palm splays at the small of her back, firm and protective. ] ...And you'll have all the freshly-baked bread you can eat.
[There's little she wouldn't do to hear that laugh. She snuggles into his embrace, his chest, smiling. Always smiling, with him.]
Is that all it takes to keep me content?
[She teases. She does enjoy her bread--but she would prefer to sink her teeth into him. Convenient, then, that his bare neck is right here! She breathes out a laugh, moving her face to playfully nip at his skin.]
[ A new, exciting thing he's found about Jill, after all these years: she's a biter. It's a thrilling piece of information that Clive is, admittedly, very happy about- he hasn't said anything for fear of making her think he's a freak, but he huffs pleasantly to the feeling of her teeth in his skin, and rewards her with a combing of fingers through her long hair. ]
I think it might make you happy. [ Obviously, bread is not going to be the end-all be-all of their relationship, but: ] I may even learn to bake, just to please you.
[To be fair, Jill's also found out she's a biter. Perhaps she is because he enjoys it so much, and she thoroughly enjoys getting shivers out of him. Her lips press to his skin after, as always. Affection to soothe the sting.]
Oh, let's not test the depths of your patience.
[Please, Clive. Jill believes in many things, but his ability to bake? Not so much. She laughs as she hugs him.]
I may even manage not to burn anything, [ is definitely an Ifrit-adjacent joke. Sometimes it still feels like it's too soon (it will always feel like it's too soon; Phoenix Gate still looms over him on restless, sleepless nights), but with Jill, even his past sins are easier to bear.
He pulls back, just for the luxury of looking at her. I adore you, he thinks, and the sentiment bleeds into the softening of his expression, the way his ocean-blue eyes gentle. ]
...We should go. I can feel the ghost of my childhood self starting to get jealous.
[ It's a sweet sentiment; Clive almost doesn't know what to do with it. But he takes Jill's hand and squeezes it, reassuring her that he appreciates her more than she'll ever know. ]
He'd turn beet-red and go silent, I think.
[ Hopeless. Clive still feels inclined to turn beet-red and go silent, sometimes. ]
That boy had no idea how to express himself around you when he was fifteen.
I think you still would have frozen like that until relatively recently.
[Even her teasing him is done sweetly, her fingers lacing between his. They're both too shy for their own good, sometimes. Not so much with one another anymore. Thankfully.
Her boots almost manage a step before she pauses. Who knows when they'll be here again? She looks to Clive.]
[ Accurately called out... another thing Clive is figuring out about himself: he likes being heckled by Jill. It speaks to the fact that she isn't holding her thoughts back as much as she might have before, and feels comfortable enough to demur.
A low laugh, bemused, and then- a glance over his shoulder at the scattered items still sitting where they used to be in childhood. He gives it some thought, then lets go of Jill's hand to crouch in front of one of the few wooden toys on the floor.
The rocking horse is what he decides on. He straightens up, and holds it up for Jill's appraisal. ]
I could put it next to Little Torgal.
[ the lumpy stuffed toy that he'd brought back to Jill before. it strikes him that he should probably ask Jill to share quarters with him, at some point. ]
[A good choice. Jill reaches out to thumb away some dust, glad he wants to bring something of this place to their home.]
A reminder of two of my favorite days.
[Perhaps a little out of order, falling into bed one day and then saying I love you on another, but they spent enough of their lives following imaginary rules. They can live as they choose.]
You've made me the happiest woman to ever live, Clive.
[ Every time he thinks he couldn't possibly adore her more, Jill reaches into his heart and makes it grow two times the size of what it was before. It's likely that normal men and women don't fumble for more than two decades with something as simple as being the most important people in each other's lives, but this thing that they have, that they made together―
―this is perfect. Crystalline and everlasting, more so than the big rocks they've been shattering for the past five years. ]
May that hold true, forever.
[ Not just in this moment, but for the rest of her life. He hugs her waist, and rests his lips against the crown of her head. ]
Were you? You're three years older than me. I would think it was I that was born to love you.
[Maybe born to lose her family, to endure the pain and misery of the Iron Islands, but to ultimately be with Clive, always. It makes it all seem worthwhile. Especially when she's in his arms, and she feels like nothing bad could possibly happen again.]
Perhaps you were born to be loved by me. I think that sounds better.
[Finally, someone in service to him. It needn't always be him serving others. Doing for others.]
[ "To be loved". That's new. Especially in this little hut, where the biggest of his problems was that he was a son that was incapable of being loved. Born and bypassed. He isn't bitter about it― Joshua has always been a blessing in his life, ever since he was born- but it's the sort of thing that has become the unmovable truth of 'Clive Rosfield's' makeup.
Not so, though, according to Jill. And she often sees things so clearly. ]
A compromise, then, [ as he leads her towards the ladder leading back down to tall island grass and long-untrodden ground. ] We were born to love one another.
[ Because they're both stubborn, and he'd like them to agree on this silly little semantic thing. ]
Very well. [Jill laughs as her boots touch grass. She could very well be stubborn, but he's likely not wrong. The moment he joins her, her hand reaches for his. It's been nice to touch him so openly at the Hideaway, to let her hand linger on his at a table. It's still just as nice in private, just the two of them.] We were born to love one another.
[At his question, she pulls herself closer to him, humming with approval.]
I was hoping you'd ask. I can't imagine sleeping apart after today. [Which almost sounds like she's saying always, she realizes, and quickly continues.] I mean, for tonight.
[ It is still his bed. And still his room and office, ostensibly. But: ]
If you won't miss having your own space, [ for a given value of "own", since the Hideaway is getting more and more crowded with each new catastrophe that happens on both sides of the Twins, ] I'd like it if you shared mine.
[ Indefinitely, obviously. He glances down at Jill, and he's both tentative but hopeful- the invisible Torgal ears are pricked up in anticipation of a yes. ]
[Her "own" space is shared with several women and children. Jill doesn't mind much--she's lived with less, and she really only needs her cot when she's not out elsewhere or, these days, in Clive's bed. One of her few possessions of note is a perfume, but that's so precious to her it's kept in Clive's quarters, away from curious fingers. She hasn't even worn it yet. For a special occasion, she tells herself. Had she known Clive was going to take her here today, she might have put some on.]
Are you certain? [She looks up with him and knows he is. The answer is yes, of course. He must know.] You're not tired of cold feet against your legs in the morning?
[ Their new Hideaway has been theirs for five years now, following the grand tragedy of Hugo Kupka's rampage- and yet, Clive's chambers have never felt more like home than it does now, with Jill occupying it whenever she wishes. There's something indescribable about turning over in bed to her shape nestled next to his, or opening a drawer to find one of her shirts starched and pressed alongside his, just in case she has need for something fresh in the morning.
Simple joys. Small things. They all make him feel more human. He remembers so little of things like this from childhood, and it's almost as Jill can singlehandedly fill in all of these absences and replace them with something colorful and new. ]
I would brave frostbite to have you by my side, always.
[ He hugs her waist, and kisses her cheek. ] ―Besides, they're no more jarring than Torgal's nose to my face.
Edited (the unforgivable sin of MISSPELLING torgal's NAME) 2025-09-11 04:38 (UTC)
[Her icy toes take offense! Besides, he has all that muscle and all that body heat for what? To warm all parts of her, surely. Jill finds herself looking forward to the cooler months. A part of her knows she should encourage Clive to repair his walls (or just have it done for him), but a greater part of her thinks it might be nice to use him as a blanket. Decisions, decisions...
She laughs, but becomes more serious after, squeezing Clive's hands.]
It would be a great comfort to sleep beside you every night we're both home. It grows more and more difficult to say goodbye to you.
[ Why so big and warm... if not for cuddling...???? It's a privilege and a pleasure to be Jill's human-shaped space heater, and Clive will oblige the request as seriously as he tackles all of his duties. Arms will stay firmly around Jill's waist at all times when they're in bed together.
Because they will be. Another promise to add to the growing pile. ]
Then it'll be our home, and our bed. [ Fingers laced, he starts guiding her back towards the coastline of the small island, where their skiff sways precariously on calm waters. ] And I want to return to it now, together.
[ A little bold? Maybe. But they don't even need to have sex: he just wants her closeness, and to come to terms with yet another new normal. This I love you that they've finally spoken into existence. He wants to sit in it for a while. ]
So would I. I can think of nothing better than being there, in the arms of the man I love.
[Founder, it feels good to say it without hesitation. Jill's smile is cheerful as she glances to him despite not feeling so fond of that skiff. It just has to get them back...]
Perhaps he'll allow me the pleasure of doting on him.
[Sex is great, sure, but what about having your hair pet or shoulders massaged? Or all of it. Jill has no plans beyond him today, unless some disaster aims to cut their honeymoon of sorts short.]
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Careful. Those sound like vows, Clive.
[... are they?]
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I- [ Invisible dog ears droop. ] ―They are. As much of them as I can make in the moment, mind.
[ Fumbling a little: ] ―I've no rings ready. [ Malewife panic!!! ]
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Ah--[In her panic, she grabs his face. Calm!! They've got this.] Wait. It's alright. I didn't mean to put you on the spot, Clive.
[She laughs, jittery, apologetic.]
The answer would be yes, always.
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Panic, begone. Thirty-three years into his life, and he still feels like a boy in front of the woman he loves. ]
―When all of this is over. I promise you, Jill.
[ Rings, his future, a title that isn't Outlaw. He would like to be her husband, if only she'll let him. ]
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[Like today. It's perfect, to her. A cool afternoon, quiet, private. In this place that meant so much to him. A place that still does. She takes advantage of having his face in her hands to pull him down for a kiss before she goes for another tight embrace, happy.]
I want to see the rest of the world with you, Clive. And, when the time comes, settle down together. Whatever that looks like.
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He's lucky. Some people live a lifetime without knowing what it's like to put their heart in someone else's hands. He has never been defined by tragedy, because he'd always had the blessing of the woman he was meant to be with forever.
Nosing against Jill's hair, Clive nods. ]
We will. I'll make sure of it. [ His palm splays at the small of her back, firm and protective. ] ...And you'll have all the freshly-baked bread you can eat.
[ A small, shy laugh. ]
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Is that all it takes to keep me content?
[She teases. She does enjoy her bread--but she would prefer to sink her teeth into him. Convenient, then, that his bare neck is right here! She breathes out a laugh, moving her face to playfully nip at his skin.]
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I think it might make you happy. [ Obviously, bread is not going to be the end-all be-all of their relationship, but: ] I may even learn to bake, just to please you.
[ haha jk (unless...?) ]
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Oh, let's not test the depths of your patience.
[Please, Clive. Jill believes in many things, but his ability to bake? Not so much. She laughs as she hugs him.]
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He pulls back, just for the luxury of looking at her. I adore you, he thinks, and the sentiment bleeds into the softening of his expression, the way his ocean-blue eyes gentle. ]
...We should go. I can feel the ghost of my childhood self starting to get jealous.
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She nods, slipping one of her hands into his.]
I wish I could take that boy in my arms and reassure him he's loved. That he'll be alright.
[She'll never forgive Anabella. Or Elwin, she thinks. But that she'll keep that to herself.]
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He'd turn beet-red and go silent, I think.
[ Hopeless. Clive still feels inclined to turn beet-red and go silent, sometimes. ]
That boy had no idea how to express himself around you when he was fifteen.
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[Even her teasing him is done sweetly, her fingers lacing between his. They're both too shy for their own good, sometimes. Not so much with one another anymore. Thankfully.
Her boots almost manage a step before she pauses. Who knows when they'll be here again? She looks to Clive.]
Would you like to bring anything back with us?
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A low laugh, bemused, and then- a glance over his shoulder at the scattered items still sitting where they used to be in childhood. He gives it some thought, then lets go of Jill's hand to crouch in front of one of the few wooden toys on the floor.
The rocking horse is what he decides on. He straightens up, and holds it up for Jill's appraisal. ]
I could put it next to Little Torgal.
[ the lumpy stuffed toy that he'd brought back to Jill before. it strikes him that he should probably ask Jill to share quarters with him, at some point. ]
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A reminder of two of my favorite days.
[Perhaps a little out of order, falling into bed one day and then saying I love you on another, but they spent enough of their lives following imaginary rules. They can live as they choose.]
You've made me the happiest woman to ever live, Clive.
[Dramatic? Perhaps. Yet Jill means every word.]
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―this is perfect. Crystalline and everlasting, more so than the big rocks they've been shattering for the past five years. ]
May that hold true, forever.
[ Not just in this moment, but for the rest of her life. He hugs her waist, and rests his lips against the crown of her head. ]
I was born to love you.
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[Maybe born to lose her family, to endure the pain and misery of the Iron Islands, but to ultimately be with Clive, always. It makes it all seem worthwhile. Especially when she's in his arms, and she feels like nothing bad could possibly happen again.]
Perhaps you were born to be loved by me. I think that sounds better.
[Finally, someone in service to him. It needn't always be him serving others. Doing for others.]
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Not so, though, according to Jill. And she often sees things so clearly. ]
A compromise, then, [ as he leads her towards the ladder leading back down to tall island grass and long-untrodden ground. ] We were born to love one another.
[ Because they're both stubborn, and he'd like them to agree on this silly little semantic thing. ]
...Will you stay with me in my quarters today?
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[At his question, she pulls herself closer to him, humming with approval.]
I was hoping you'd ask. I can't imagine sleeping apart after today. [Which almost sounds like she's saying always, she realizes, and quickly continues.] I mean, for tonight.
[It's still his bed.]
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If you won't miss having your own space, [ for a given value of "own", since the Hideaway is getting more and more crowded with each new catastrophe that happens on both sides of the Twins, ] I'd like it if you shared mine.
[ Indefinitely, obviously. He glances down at Jill, and he's both tentative but hopeful- the invisible Torgal ears are pricked up in anticipation of a yes. ]
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Are you certain? [She looks up with him and knows he is. The answer is yes, of course. He must know.] You're not tired of cold feet against your legs in the morning?
[He's so warm she can't help herself.]
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Simple joys. Small things. They all make him feel more human. He remembers so little of things like this from childhood, and it's almost as Jill can singlehandedly fill in all of these absences and replace them with something colorful and new. ]
I would brave frostbite to have you by my side, always.
[ He hugs her waist, and kisses her cheek. ] ―Besides, they're no more jarring than Torgal's nose to my face.
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[Her icy toes take offense! Besides, he has all that muscle and all that body heat for what? To warm all parts of her, surely. Jill finds herself looking forward to the cooler months. A part of her knows she should encourage Clive to repair his walls (or just have it done for him), but a greater part of her thinks it might be nice to use him as a blanket. Decisions, decisions...
She laughs, but becomes more serious after, squeezing Clive's hands.]
It would be a great comfort to sleep beside you every night we're both home. It grows more and more difficult to say goodbye to you.
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Because they will be. Another promise to add to the growing pile. ]
Then it'll be our home, and our bed. [ Fingers laced, he starts guiding her back towards the coastline of the small island, where their skiff sways precariously on calm waters. ] And I want to return to it now, together.
[ A little bold? Maybe. But they don't even need to have sex: he just wants her closeness, and to come to terms with yet another new normal. This I love you that they've finally spoken into existence. He wants to sit in it for a while. ]
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[Founder, it feels good to say it without hesitation. Jill's smile is cheerful as she glances to him despite not feeling so fond of that skiff. It just has to get them back...]
Perhaps he'll allow me the pleasure of doting on him.
[Sex is great, sure, but what about having your hair pet or shoulders massaged? Or all of it. Jill has no plans beyond him today, unless some disaster aims to cut their honeymoon of sorts short.]
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apologies for the slowness...! finally back from work-related traveling 🙏
welcome back!!! did you see the logos video the 16 team dropped yesterday 👀👀👀
I DID and i'm begging at SE's altar for content... clive journals about jill... ben starr please
if he doesn't go on about his wifey it's on sight, ben starr
i refuse to believe that clive's journals aren't 95% about wanting to kiss jill
this is canon tbh
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dear diary: we did it 💖
dear diary: we fucked and i cried about it 💖
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