#Clive’s eyes look so gentle | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

drabblesandimagines · 5 months ago

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Lemon Tarts

Clive Rosfield x female (Branded) reader Fluff, 5,828 words

“Come on, out of there, eh? I know I have a scarred mug but I’m a nice fella under all that.” Gav – he’s introduced himself several times now – jokes with a half-hearted laugh.

He’s crouched down in front of the alcove where you’ve sequestered yourself, your body pressed right up in the corner, your head tucked in-between your knees to try and make yourself as small as possible.

Gav’s broad shoulders won’t permit him entry, his reach coming up short when he’d got down on his knees and put an arm in to catch your wrist to guide you back out – cursing himself under his breath when you’d flinched at his attempt.

Your master was harsh both in what he demanded in labour and how he treated you. However long ago, you’d decided it was better to not talk back and, eventually, not worth talking at all. It wasn’t like he’d bought you for your conversation skills - for what worth is there in anything a Branded has to say?

The days in his service were repetitive – just the faces around you would change as the curse wore away at their supposed worth. Two new Bearers had been acquired over a tenday ago, apparently tracked by a group of people calling themselves Cursebreakers when they broke into the barn where you all slept. They explained they were here to take all of you somewhere safe, to free you from your master, all whilst weapons hung from their hips.

They’d escorted you into a covered wagon in the early hours of the morning with a firm grip, before the three of you were transferred onto a skiff roped up at a small dock, tucked away off a beaten path. The boat set sail across the blighted waters of a lake, heading towards some sort of Fallen structure in the middle. From there, you were led up onto a dock and then into a goods lift, ascending up to a new fate. You had tried to keep your panic at bay on the wagon and skiff ride, swallowing down the anxiety that had churned in your stomach and threatened to come up your throat but the moment the lift reached the main deck, the fear of the unknown won and you ran without further thought.

You ran with an energy you didn’t know you still possessed, ducking around outstretched arms. You didn’t make it very far before your mind caught up with your legs - where could you even go now? You’re in the middle of a lake, you don’t know how to swim, you’re trapped.

Now that you’d ran from them, disobeyed their commands to stop, only punishment could follow. At least with your old master you knew what to expect for whatever he deemed as ill behaviour, despite your best attempts to fulfill his demands, and what to brace for when you failed.

The alcove had caught your eye – a gap between two wooden walls made of thick planks. You’d slipped in with more than a hope that you wouldn’t be spotted as you did, perhaps they’d think you’d jumped into the waters below and drowned.

Luck was not on your side – when had it ever been? - for as soon as you’d pressed yourself into the very back, a scarred face had appeared in the opening.

“You can’t stay in there forever.” Gav chides, stepping back to put his hands on his hips before his face falls. “Not that that’s a threat, like! I mean, it’s not… practical, is it? Especially when we’ve a lovely, warm bed with your name on it.”

Warm bed…?

It’s a trick.

Don’t be so stupid.

“Gav, what’s going on?” An almost amused voice draws the scout’s attention elsewhere and the man steps out of view, entering into a hushed conversation. You risk a look between your knees, seeing the railings and a bit of the sky beyond �� dusk beginning to fall.

A few moments later, you hear the voice again – gravelly, but cautious and gentle. “Hello, my lady.”

The lack of sarcasm in their address of you – for who would call a Branded my lady –prompts you to peer between your knees. Another rather broad-shouldered man is knelt down on one knee - shaggy dark hair framing stormy blue eyes, clad in red and black leathers, the hilt of a great sword showing over his shoulder.

“My name’s Clive. Mayhaps I could have the pleasure of yours?”

“She doesn’t talk much.” Gav’s voice comes from over his shoulder, but Clive keeps his gaze on you. “Or ever - that’s what the others said anyway. They’re all pretty new to the bastard’s service, like. Said they didn’t know her name, and not sure how long she’d been with him.”

“That’s all right. You don’t have to talk right now if you don’t want to, my lady. We just want to help, but we can’t help much whilst you’ve tucked yourself away here, can we?”

He waits for a few moments, testing the waters.

“We have a healer who can treat whatever ails you,” Clive presses on, tone still gentle and genuine. “And a very cosy bunk for you to rest in, where you won’t be disturbed. And food of course - I’ve heard there’s a delicious stew on the menu tonight. Molly - she’s our cook - has made some exquisite lemon tarts for afters. You can have mine, if you like.”

Your mouth salivates at the prospect of hot food. It had been a while since your stomach felt content - yesterday’s meal had consisted of vegetable peelings after a poor day of harvest, shared with the chocobos…

It’s all too good to be true.

“I know you must be frightened – to be taken from everything you’ve known for so long, but you have my word that we wish only to help you.” He places his fist over his heart, hoping it would prove his sincerity. “Though I understand we cannot be helping by hovering over you like this, so I will leave you be to think on it a while, my lady.”

Clive gets to his feet with a soft grunt and takes a few steps away back over to where Gav was stood, shaking his head in defeat.

Gav sighs, wearily. “S’pose I could ask Bartram to knock the planks out at the side so we can get her out that way?”

“No.” Clive’s tone is firm. “Definitely not. I could see her body trembling – she’s terrified.”

“We can hardly leave her in there.”

“She just needs time – we can give her that. It’s not ideal, but she’s at least safe. If her health turns, I’ll consider more drastic action but patience is best for now.”

“Maybe she’d be more comfortable speaking with someone who’s Branded?” Gav muses, scratching the back of his head.

“Good idea, Gav.” Clive claps his on the shoulder with a heavy arm. “I’ll ask Molly if she can pop by with some stew – food and a friendly, familiar face might work wonders."

You don’t emerge later though, despite Molly’s best efforts. She gives you a bright smile and soft, encouraging words – a tale of how she was rescued, proudly demonstrating the brand on her cheek, what she does now at the Hideaway, and then offering the bowl of stew in her hand.

The aroma makes your mouth water and stomach ache. Molly carefully places it at the threshold, not wanting to encroach on your personal space. Says she’ll leave it there, alongside a waterskin, before she bids you well and disappears from view.

If you shuffled forward a little, perhaps stretched out your arm as far as it would go, the bowl would be in reach to drag back to eat.

You don’t, though.

You won’t.

It’s a trick.

Clive had made himself scarce, hoping Molly's presence would be more calming than his own, and left her with instructions that if you were to emerge, or engage in conversation, perhaps she could coax you into going to the infirmary next.

He busied himself in search of the seamstress, eventually finding her in the bunks, sorting through piles of material stored away in a cupboard.

“Hortense, do you have a moment?”

“Of course.” She nods, turning to face him. “What can I do for you, Clive?” “I wondered if you had any spare blankets?”

“Oh, yes – I’m always working away on more as we grow our ranks!” Hortense beams, turning back to the cupboard. “I'm not surprised you asked – there must be quite the draft in those chambers of yours.”

“Ah, no - not for me. One of the rescued Bearers from today is a little shy, sequestered herself in an alcove in fright. I'm hoping she'll emerge before nightfall for food and to go to the infirmary, but I do not wish for her to catch a chill off the lake if she does not...”

“Oh, the poor mite!” Hortense frowns at the idea, but sets to thumbing through a pile of blankets in search of one in particular – a fleecy grey one in the end - and bundling it up in her arms before she hands it over to him. “Well, this one should keep her nice and cosy, it’s plenty thick enough. Tell me she is at least properly dressed, Clive.”

“The usual attire.” A polite way of saying the threadbare cloth shirts, trousers or dresses that Bearers were permitted by their masters, sans shoes as always. “I doubt she’ll accept any changes of clothing currently, but I am sure she’ll come round. We just need to be patient.”

“How could she not? Please, do let me know if there is anything else I can do.”

“This is plenty, I assure you.” He smiles, holding the blanket aloft in demonstration and leaves her to her work, heading the long way down to the Ale Hall to avoid the main deck. He spots Molly back in the kitchen behind the counter, looking forlorn.

“I’m sorry – I tried, I really did.” She scoops a generous portion of stew into a bowl and hands it off to an awaiting Bearer as she talks. “I told her my story and everything, but it’s almost like she’s frozen in place. I half-worried the curse had took her in front of my eyes. I left the stew - I hoped with some privacy she might eat without me there watching her.”

He places a large palm on her arm and give hers a sincere smile. “Thank you, Molly. I really appreciate you trying.”

“It’s nothing. Here”, she hands him the bowl of stew she’d just prepared. “Can’t forget yourself. And before you ask, yes, everyone else has been fed.”

Clive smiles, wryly, and takes the bowl with a grateful nod.

After he has had his fill, he heads out at the top of the steps, planning to keep his distance for a while longer up in the mess before an attempt to coax you out or gifting you the blanket. As his eyes cast over the alcove, he finds an unwelcome guest with their head and shoulders wedged firmly into the entrance.

“Torgal - away from there!” Clive snaps with a growl in his throat and the wolf hound instantly retreats to his master’s side with a whine and a tilt of his head, unsure as to what he's done.

He sighs, giving the beast a pat on the head. “I am sorry, boy, just... that bowl wasn’t for you – that was for our guest. I am afraid you may have scared her.”

Clive walks over and drops to a knee to peer within. His heart sinks to find your head tucked further between your knees than it had been previously, in addition to your body now trembling almost violently.

By the Founder, you must’ve thought he’d sent his beast to devour you.

“My lady, I am so very sorry that Torgal frightened you. He must’ve picked up the scent of the stew and followed it, mistaking it for his dinner. His sense of smell is unparalleled.”

Torgal barks as if in agreement, and you jump in place at the noise. Clive hushes the wolf with another pat on his head. “Sorry – he still acts like a puppy sometimes, but he is a very loyal friend of mine and he means you no harm. Allow me to fetch you something else to eat.”

He lays the bundled blanket down and pushes it forward, until it’s less than an arm’s length away from you.

“It gets a little cold on the deck in the evenings, my lady, but this should keep you warm until you feel comfortable enough to come inside. I’ll be back in a moment with some more food, and Torgal will keep away – I promise.”

He gets to his feet, picking up the bowl as he does and Torgal quickly follows behind at his heels as he heads back to the Ale Hall. Molly’s eyes widen in delight as he places the empty vessel on the counter, but Clive shakes his head.

“I’m afraid Torgal got to it first – licked it clean. Do we have any left?”

“Ah.” The cook’s face falls. “No, I’m afraid not – some of the Cursebreakers were feeling particularly hungry after their mission. But I do have bread, some cheese, apples and a lemon tart, though I had held that one back for you…”

“That all sounds wonderful. Please.”

Molly pulls out a cloth napkin from below the counter, placing the assortment of food together with a delicate hand. She ties the napkin in a knot to keep the bundle protected and hands it over.

“Thank you.” He looks down at the hound sat by his heels. “Torgal, why don’t you go and sit with Lady Charon?”

Torgal’s tail thumps against the wooden floorboards happily – Charon often has a bone waiting for him behind her counter in the evening.

“Good boy.”

Clive heads back towards the alcove with deliberate footsteps, wishing to announce his arrival. The blanket has not moved, still in the place where he left it. From what he can see in the evening light, your trembling has appeared to ease up from Torgal’s visit at least.

“I am afraid we have run out of stew, but Molly’s put together a selection of other things for you – including the lemon tart I mentioned earlier.” Clive places the bundle down carefully upon the blanket, before moving the waterskin besides it.

He waits a moment or two to see if you might lift your head before continuing, but it remains fixed in place.

“I think you might feel more at ease if you eat something, my lady, even if it’s just a little. I will leave you be and bid you a good night, with a sincere hope that you emerge anon.”

He gets back to his feet again, swallowing back down a sigh and, reluctantly, heads back into the warmth of the Ale Hall.

Clive finds himself restless later that night, tossing and turning before settling to stare up at the ceiling of his chambers. His mind is whirling with thoughts of what he needs to accomplish tomorrow, the missives he has yet to reply to, the Mothercrystals that still reside – though an opportune moment was still to present itself – the next lot of Cursebreakers who would be undertaking the removal of their Brands…

..and you, the scared Bearer, hiding in an alcove off the main deck.

He sits up with a huff and looks towards the balcony.

Fresh air – despite how drafty his chambers already are - will help, he thinks.

He gets out of bed, pulling on his earlier discarded trousers and boots to go with his night shirt and heads over to the balcony, stepping out into the cool night air.

The blighted lake waters are still and the moon casts a warm, white glow over the quiet deck. Clive takes a deep breath and then another, when something catches his eye down below - a lone figure heading across the boards on unsteady legs, towards the end of the dock.

You.

He turns on his heel and hurries out of his chambers, his footsteps echoing around the Ale Hall as he descends both sets of stairs two at a time. He pulls the lever back to call the lift back up and waits, impatiently, when he sees the blanket and bundle of food he’d left earlier, pushed aside in front of the alcove.

He grabs the bundle as the lift reaches the dock and hurries inside, slamming down the lever and descending below, praying that he’s not too late.

You were sure you hadn’t heard anyone for hours since the sun had dipped below the horizon and stars had slowly started to emerge in the cloudless sky. Cautiously, you’d pushed the blanket forward, only enough so that if someone was lying in wait for you to emerge they would pounce.

Nothing.

You wait another while before you inch it forward again, a pause, then a little more until the entire blanket is now out of the alcove. Your hands are shaking as you pop your head out, just slightly, but the deck appears empty. After waiting another few moments, you crawl over to the railings to peer below. The skiff you’d arrived on is docked up at the end of the pier – an escape route. Without much further thought, you pull yourself up on unsteady legs and walk into the goods lift, pulling down the lever to descend.

You find yourself at the end of the dock, frozen in fear. What were you thinking? You don’t know how to sail. You don’t know how to swim either, so that’s also out of the question. Even if you could, you surely wouldn’t have the strength to swim across an entire lake.

You flex stiff fingers experimentally. Maybe you could muster up enough aether to conjure some wind – would that be enough to sail the skiff? You wished you’d paid more attention on the journey over…

You’re getting ahead of yourself. Where would you even go? The brand inked on your cheek made it so you’d never have a normal life, you stand out immediately in any crowd. If an imperial soldier caught you on your own, you’d be thrown into the cells…

..or even worse.

Maybe… Maybe you could go back to your master? Your stomach swirls again with anxiety at the thought. There would be a punishment, surely, but if you came back that would count for something, wouldn’t it?

Your thoughts are interrupted by pounding footsteps, your heartbeat soon matching their pace as you turn to see your pursuer. It’s the broad-shouldered man from earlier – Clive – hurrying up the dock with a look you can’t identify on his face and a bundle of cloth in his hand.

You take a step back as he gets closer, hurriedly followed by another, then another. There’s an apology on your tongue but the world suddenly jerks when there is no longer anything to stand on. You’ve stepped too far, ran out of dock-

There is a gust of warm wind and an arm wraps around your waist, pressing you close into an even warmer chest. Underfoot, you feel the boards of the dock again - Clive has stopped you from falling into the depths. He guides you forward another half a dozen strides before dropping his arm once he’s sure you’re a safe distance away from the edge and then takes further steps back himself.

“I apologise for touching you without your consent, my lady, but I could not let you fall into the water. Are you all right?”

You don’t take in his words at all - your legs giving up as you drop down on the deck with a thump.

“I’m s-sorry.” Your words are soft, but Clive hears them in the stillness of the night. “Please – I’ll…” You swallow back a sob – crying never helped, would only make punishments worse. “I’m sorry. Please… don’t hurt me. I’ll obey. I will.”

“I will never hurt you, my lady, nor will I ever command your obedience. This is my vow.” Clive responds, equally as soft, as he kneels down to match your eye-level. “I just wish to see you safe and well.”

He sounds sincere, which is unsettling. You realise he doesn’t have his sword, nor the hound at his heels. He’s not even properly dressed - leather trousers and an unlaced white shirt, overall softening his appearance.

Clive takes advantage of your silence to press on.

“Will you join me in a midnight feast?” He places the bundle of cloth down before him, swiftly undoing the knot all whilst you stare, trying to guess the trick.

“I used to sneak into my younger brother’s chambers with things I’d swiped from the kitchen. He was often ill and prescribed a rather bland diet, so I hoped a midnight feast of more appetizing fare might cheer him up.”

He busies himself laying out the food on the patterned cloth, a little further away from him than could be comfortable having to stretch out so far. There’s a few bread rolls, apples, biscuits and something that smells tantalizingly sweet.

“This,” Clive points out a round pastry in the middle, some sort of glazed curd on the top, “is Molly’s fabled lemon tart. The best in Valisthea, I assure you. Please – help yourself.”

He leans back, propping himself up with his elbows, again trying to give you space, and forces his gaze to the sky. The moon illuminates the side of his face as you keep your eyes fixed on him, revealing a mark you hadn’t noticed earlier that day - an almost familiar one.

It’s torture having the food laid out in front of you, the second time that day. You don’t know if you feel sick from hunger or from nerves, but your resolve finally cracks.

You reach out with a shaking hand, waiting for Clive to strike.

He keeps focused on the skies above, his hands firmly planted behind him.

You pick up the roll.

Still, he does not move.

You take a tentative bite and chew, whilst Clive stares up at the stars.

Slowly, but surely, you finish the entire roll. Be grateful – your master’s voice rings around your head.

“T-thank you.”

Clive moves his gaze from the skies to yours, a warm smile on his face. “No, thank you, my lady. This is all I want for you – all we want for you – to be safe and well-fed.”

You dig your nails into your palms. “Why?”

“Because Bearers do not deserve to be treated how they are – we should be able to live and die on our own terms.”

“We?”

He nods, sitting up and turning his head to the side, pushing back his hair a little to reveal the scar on his cheek.

“I was Branded once. Tarja – she’s our healer – removed it, only so I could travel Storm safely and help others escape their fate. The Cursebreakers have all had their Brands removed as well for the same reason.”

“No, they said it can’t be removed – the ink contains poison.” You don’t know where this tone of defiance has emerged from, but there is no flash of anger across Clive’s brow.

“It is risky to remove, yes, but not impossible. And we will not ask you to undertake such a risk – that would be your choice.” He adds, quickly, worried you may take it the wrong way.

“You remember Molly, who brought you the stew?” You nod. “There are many others like her who have chosen to keep their Brand, but it does not dictate their lives in the Hideaway. And until you can live the life you deserve to, one where that mark on your cheek will not make it unsafe for you to do so, I sincerely hope you will find a home here.”

“A home?”

“Mm. Safe, fed, and never need to use aether again, my…” He pauses in realization. “My apologies - may I request the pleasure of your name?”

You shake your head, feeling foolish. “It’s silly, but I… I don’t remember it. Such a simple thing to have forgotten, but master didn’t use it.”

Of course the bastard didn’t - Clive feels a frown forming, but restrains himself. “I am sure it will come back to you with time.”

His eyes fall upon the pastry in the following silence, wishing to change the subject and he picks it up, placing it on the flat on his palm and offering it out to you. “Please – have some more to eat.”

Clive has a shy smile on his lips, a genuine and sincere look in his eye. It is the kindest look someone has given you in all the time you can remember and with that, your fingers brush across his open palm as you take the offered treat.

It is small – only two bites – but it is the most wonderful thing you have ever tasted. The pastry is crisp, thin and sweet, whilst the lemon curd is tart, the flavours dancing over your tongue.

It makes you want to cry at such a simple pleasure that has been denied to you for so very long.

The moment of euphoria is interrupted as a particularly cold wind gusts across the lake and causes you to shiver, unconsciously pulling your limbs closer to your body to try and preserve heat.

“Thank you for trusting me, my lady. I cannot imagine how frightening and worrying it must be – I truly admire your bravery. May I be as bold to request you trust me once more this night?”

You nod – the tiniest jerk of your head down – but it’s a nod all the same.

“Would you allow me to escort you to the infirmary? It has warm and comfortable beds where you can rest - properly.”

The question makes your stomach squirm with anxiety – the food sitting too heavy now in your stomach, but one look into Clive’s eyes almost settles it entirely once more.

“And in the morning, if you feel up to it,” he clarifies, “our healer would like to give you a check-up, but you do not have to make a decision on that right now.”

“A-all right.”

“Wonderful.” He keeps his tone measured, quickly wrapping up the food in the cloth and securing the top with a knot before he gets to his feet and steps back as you get to yours. He gestures forward a moment, quickly second-guessing his actions with a frown.

“Mayhaps you would be more comfortable following me?”

A small nod again.

You can’t be backstabbed if you’re facing his back, after all.

“Of course. Follow me, please, my lady.” He bows ever so slightly, before turning and heading back up and along the dock.

Clive’s heart is pounding as he walks away, worried that you may take his retreat as a chance to take the skiff and sail away or plunge yourself into the lake, but he dare not look over his shoulder in fear of frightening you.

Instead, he strains to hear any footsteps bar his own.

It is only when he reaches the goods lift that he catches sight of you in his peripheral vision that he releases a breath. He’s sure to stand in the furthest corner besides the lever, only taking one look over his shoulder to confirm you were safely within the confines of the lift before he pulls down on the mechanism.

He walks along the main deck, up the stairs to the mess, past the long tables and the hunt board before he pauses at the bottom of the next set of stairs. “It’s just up here and to the left.”

He opens the door to the infirmary with measured strength – aware the other Bearers will be resting within. The first two beds are occupied by faces you recognize – the two you’d been rescued with – and there is a man sat by a desk. Clive nods to him in acknowledgement and heads towards the other side of the room, sectioned off by a large bit of fabric. Both cots back there are empty, so he walks over to the one closest to the window and pulls the blanket down, then stepping back to the other side of the room and gesturing you forward.

“Here.”

You hesitate. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. The stranger the other side of the curtain has unsettled you. It had been easy to forget about everyone else for a moment when it had just been Clive and you on the dock, but now you are inside… Who else would come when dawn broke?

Clive picks up on your hesitation, noting the way your eyes flit between the window and beyond the curtain, annoyed with himself he did not warn you of Rodiguez being on duty that night.

“If it would be all right with you, my lady, I would like to stay in order to make introductions in the morning with Tarja. But I will only do so if you are comfortable with me – I will set up a chair over there.” He points back the way you came, to the gap between the fabric and the wall.

“P-please.”

“Of course.” He nods, picking up a chair immediately from the side and moving it to where he had said. It is only then that you sit cautiously on the edge of the bed, slowly lifting your legs up and tugging the blanket up to your chin.

Clive settles himself on the chair – he has slept in far worse places, after all – and it is not long at all until sleep claims you.

Months pass. At first, your circle remains small – Clive and Molly at first, followed by Jill before you slowly begin to open up to those among the Hideaway. You will never forget the smile on Clive’s face when he introduced you to Torgal properly – the hound immediately rolling on his back, titling his head at you inquisitively as his master explained he wished for you to rub his fluffy belly.

You are still easily startled by loud noises, unexpected movement or when Gav swears out of excitement, never the loudest in conversation, but everyone is so very welcoming.

There is plenty to do, but there is no expectation of you to contribute unless you want to, especially as some among the ranks are too stiff from the curse. Jill and Hortense teach you how to sew, you spend a few days in the Backyard learning about the plants, Charon teaches you how to take a stock inventory, Gav tries to teach you how to drink a pint in record speed and, of course, Molly teaches you how to bake.

You are always first to greet new Bearers with a soft word and kind smile, telling them how scared you were, how you hid in the alcove on the deck…

Clive is often busy whilst in or out the Hideaway, but he always makes time for you, seeking out your company immediately after he has given Otto the latest, wanting to know what you’ve been up to before he’ll even speak of himself. He even picks up little trinkets that he thinks will make you smile – lined up on your windowsill in your bunk.

You knock gently on Clive’s chambers – his call for you to enter soon following. You hold the basket behind your back, a piece of cloth tucked over delicately over the contents within as you slide open the door. He is sat behind the writing desk, looking over a pile of missives, dressed in his usual leathers.

He raises his head and offers you the warmest smile, getting to his feet immediately in polite greeting. Seeing you always seemed to brighten his day – there was something about your smile that revitalized his spirits, a reminder of how far you’d come since that first day.

“My lady.”

“I’m sorry to interrupt your work.” You say, softly, sliding the door closed behind you.

“You are never an interruption. Please, sit.” He gestures towards the bench opposite his desk. “What can I do for you?”

“Before I sit, I have some gifts.”

“Gifts?”

“Mm. For you.”

He quirks an eyebrow. “You shouldn’t have.”

You place the basket gently down on his desk, ignoring his comment. He pulls back the cloth to reveal a pile of six lemon tarts nestled within.

“Did you make these?”

“I did.” You nod, proudly. “Molly supervised, so they should be edible, at least.”

“They’ll be more than edible, I assure you.” He picks one up and bites into it, humming happily as he chews, the pastry melting on his tongue. “They are exquisite – truly.”

“Really?”

He feigns a pout at your question. “Have I ever lied to you?”

You shake your head with a shy smile.

“Then I would hardly start now.” He takes hold of you hand for a moment and squeezes. “Thank you.”

You bite your lip before continuing. “There’s… something else.”

“I am hardly deserving of this gift, my lady, let alone more-”

You interrupt him with a name – your name.

His eyes widen for a moment before he murmurs it back to you – sounding all the more wonderful on his tongue - and you nod, excitedly. You’d been reluctant to choose a new name, despite some suggestions. The inhabitants of the Hideaway had instead picked up on Clive’s term of address instead.

“I remembered, like you said.” You wring your fingers together. “Well, in a way. Tomes was reading a story to the children and there it was, after all this time.”

“It is a beautiful name – I am honoured to learn it.” He takes your hand with a bow, pressing a kiss against your knuckles and saying it once again.

When he releases your hand, you press a quick kiss against his stubbled, scarred cheek. “Thank you.”

Clive’s cheeks redden at your kiss, seemingly speechless for a moment. He smiles, almost bashfully, as he looks down at you with an unfamiliar look in his eyes.

“May I give you something in return?”

“Clive,” you look down as you protest, feeling your own face warm under his gaze, “you’ve already given me plenty. You-” He inadvertently cuts you off as he tilts your chin up with two gentle fingers, determined to meet your gaze.

“You do not understand, my darling. I would love to give you so much more, if only you’d permit me.”

“Oh…”

Clive moves his hand to caress your Branded cheek with calloused fingers – worn from his time of handling his blade – but his touch has never felt so soft.

“May I?”

You nod.

Clive presses a kiss to your lips - gentle, chaste and far sweeter than any lemon tart.

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moonselune · 5 months ago

Text

Playing a Prank on the BG3 Ladies and saying you want to sleep in your own tent

Soooo this is some of the more silly writing I have wanted to produce hehehe, hope you all enjoy it - Seluney xoxo

Karlach:

The sun was setting over the camp, casting a warm orange glow across the tents and flickering campfires. You and Karlach had just finished a day of training and patrols, and now the evening was settling in peacefully. As usual, you and Karlach shared a tent, finding comfort in each other's presence after a long day.

But tonight, you decided to play a little prank on Karlach, just to see her reaction. You watched her as she began to settle into the tent, arranging her gear and preparing for the night. With a mischievous grin, you casually mentioned, "You know, I think I'll sleep in my own tent tonight."

Karlach paused, looking up at you with a mixture of surprise and confusion.

"What?" she asked, her brow furrowing slightly. "But you always sleep in here with me."

You tried to hold back a smile, knowing she was already getting pouty. "Yeah, but I thought I'd change it up tonight. Give you some space," you replied casually, trying to maintain your composure. Karlach's expression shifted to one of slight disappointment, and she kicked at the ground with a small scowl.

"Fine," she muttered, clearly not happy with the idea of sleeping alone.

You couldn't keep up the act any longer, her little childish tantrum being too much. Your laughter bubbled up, and you finally admitted, "I'm just messing with you, Karlach! It's a prank."

Her eyes narrowed for a moment as she processed your words, and then suddenly, she broke into a grin.

"A prank, huh?" she said, crossing her arms over her chest. "Well played."

Before you could react, Karlach swiftly moved towards you, effortlessly scooping you up over her shoulder. You let out a surprised laugh as she carried you back towards her tent, her strong arms holding you securely.

"You're not getting away that easily," Karlach teased, her voice tinged with amusement. She gently put you inside the tent, and you couldn't help but laugh at how easily she had turned the tables on you.

As you settled down together in the tent, the laughter continued, filling the space between you with warmth and affection. Karlach wrapped her arms around you, pulling you close, and you snuggled against her, ensuring Clive had a spot in the bed as well with you.

"Next time, maybe think twice before trying to prank me, love" Karlach said with a smirk, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Next time, I may not be so so gentle."

You chuckled, tracing a finger along her cheek. "Noted, though if it means I get manhandled by my favourite barbarian."

"Oh ho ho, you should not have told me that love," Karlach chuckled pressing another kiss to your forehead, oh the plans she had.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Minthara:

The evening had settled over the camp, casting a gentle glow over the tents and campfires. You and Minthara had just finished a rigorous day of planning and training, and now it was time to retire for the night. As you watched her organizing her belongings in her tent, an idea for a joke began to form in your mischievous mind.

"Hey, Minthara," you called out casually, trying to suppress a smile.

Minthara looked up from her task, her piercing gaze fixing on you. "Yes?" she replied, her voice calm yet filled with curiosity.

"I think I'm going to sleep in my own tent tonight," you announced, watching closely for her reaction. Her brows furrowed slightly, a faint hint of confusion crossing her features.

"Your own tent?" she repeated, her tone neutral but tinged with a hint of concern.

"Yeah," you continued, trying to maintain a serious expression. "Just feel like I need some space tonight, you know?"

Minthara's expression shifted to one of mild concern. "Have I done something wrong?" she asked, her voice softening with genuine worry.

You shook your head quickly. "No, not at all. It's not about that," you reassured her, trying to keep the joke going a little longer.

"Are you mad at me?" Minthara pressed, her concern deepening.

"No, no, not mad," you replied, trying to hide your amusement. "Just… I don't know. Maybe I need some time alone."

Minthara's eyes narrowed slightly, studying your face intently. After a moment of silence, she crossed her arms over her chest.

"You're being ridiculous," she declared, her voice firm. "You're not sleeping alone tonight. Either you'll join me in my tent, or I'll join you in yours. But we won't be separated."

You couldn't help but grin at her determination, but you held your ground.

"No, Minthara," you said firmly, trying to keep a straight face. She looked at you with a mixture of confusion and mild frustration.

"What is going on with you?" she demanded, her tone now more exasperated than concerned. Unable to keep up the act any longer, you burst into laughter. "You are clearly unwell, I will have to consult Shadow-

"-Okay, okay, I give up!" you admitted, shaking your head at her. "It was just a joke"

Minthara blinked, processing your words for a moment before her lips curled into a smirk. "A joke?" she echoed, her tone tinged with amusement. "You think me a fool?"

You nodded sheepishly, still chuckling, starting to get worried by the glint in Minthara's eye. "I guess I underestimated you,"

Minthara's smirk widened, and she stepped closer to you, her eyes now gleaming with mischief. "Well then, since you tried to deceive me," she said, her voice lowering slightly, "I think I'll have to punish you."

Before you could react, she gently but firmly took your hand and led you into her tent. Once inside, she closed the entrance flap behind you, effectively trapping you inside with her. Despite the playful punishment, her touch and presence conveyed a sense of intimacy and possessiveness that sent a thrill through you.

"You're not going anywhere," Minthara declared softly, her eyes locking with yours. "And if you try that again, I will keep you bound to me forevermore."

You laughed, but you knew she wasn't joking. But before you could press her further on the matter, she pulled you close to her and captured her lips in yours, you could tell immediately that despite being together, there would be no sleep happening.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Lae'zel:

The evening was cool, a gentle breeze rustling through the camp as the fire crackled and cast flickering shadows. The day had been long, filled with battles and strategies, and now it was time to rest. You approached Lae'zel's tent, a mischievous grin on your face as you prepared to pull a prank on the fierce Githyanki warrior.

"Hey, Lae'zel," you began, trying to keep your voice casual. "I've been thinking… I don't want to sleep in your tent tonight."

Lae'zel looked up from sharpening her sword, her yellow eyes narrowing slightly as she studied your expression. "Very well," she said simply, her tone indifferent. "Sleep where you wish."

You blinked, a bit surprised by her lack of reaction. "I mean, it's just… I think I need some space tonight. You know, to think and reflect."

Lae'zel shrugged, unperturbed. "Then do so. Your need for solitude is understandable."

You pressed on, trying to elicit some reaction. "It's not that I don't enjoy being with you. I just feel like… maybe we need a break or something."

She raised an eyebrow, still sharpening her blade with calm precision. "If that is what you desire, I will not object. Do what you must."

Feeling a bit miffed by her nonchalance, you decided to push further. "Aren't you… upset? Even a little bit? I thought you'd be at least a bit bothered by this."

Lae'zel paused, setting her sword aside as she regarded you with a quizzical expression. "Why would I be upset? You have your reasons, and I respect them. If you require space, it is logical to provide it."

A twinge of offense crept into your voice. "You should be upset! It means something if I don't want to sleep in your tent. Aren't you even a little worried?"

Lae'zel's confusion was evident as she tilted her head slightly. "Worried? No. You are your own person, and you have the right to your own choices. I trust your judgment."

You couldn't help but chuckle at her serious demeanor, realizing she truly didn't get the joke. "Lae'zel, it was a prank. I was trying to tease you."

Her eyes widened slightly, and she frowned, clearly not amused. "A prank? Why would you jest about such matters?"

Your laughter bubbled up, and you couldn't contain it. "Because it was supposed to be funny! I wanted to see if you'd get upset or react in some way."

Lae'zel's frown deepened, but there was a hint of amusement in her eyes. "Your sense of humor is… peculiar. But I see now."

You shook your head, still chuckling. "You're something else, Lae'zel. I guess I can't easily get a rise out of you."

She picked up her sword again, resuming her sharpening with a faint smile. "No, you cannot. But I appreciate the attempt. Perhaps next time, try a different approach."

You leaned in, planting a light kiss on her cheek. "Noted. I'll think of something more creative next time."

Lae'zel's smile grew slightly as she continued her task, and you settled beside her, content to enjoy her company despite the failed prank. It was moments like these that reminded you why you cared for her so deeply—her unyielding strength, her unwavering logic, and her ability to be so sweetly naive.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Shadowheart:

As the campfire crackled and the last rays of sunlight faded into twilight, you decided to pull a playful prank on Shadowheart. The two of you sat close together, enjoying the warmth of the fire and the quiet companionship. After finishing your evening meal, you turned to her, adopting a serious expression.

"Shadowheart," you began, trying to keep your voice steady, "I think I'll sleep in my own tent tonight."

Shadowheart's eyes narrowed slightly, a knowing glint appearing almost instantly. But she played along, her face falling into a mask of hurt.

"What? Why? Do you not want to be with me anymore?" Her voice trembled, and her eyes filled with mock tears, shimmering in the firelight. The sight of her so convincingly distressed made your heart ache.

"No, no, it's not like that," you stammered, immediately regretting your prank. "I just thought—"

Shadowheart's facade held firm, and she turned away, covering her face with her hands as if overwhelmed with emotion. "I can't believe this," she murmured, her voice muffled. "All this time, I thought... I thought we had something special."

You reached out, panic rising. "Shadowheart, please, listen. It was just a joke, I didn't mean it—"

She turned back to you, her eyes wide and brimming with tears that looked all too real. "A joke? You think this is funny? I thought you loved me, but clearly, I was wrong."

Your heart sank, and guilt gnawed at you. "Shadowheart, I'm so sorry. I do love you. I was just trying to be playful. Please, forgive me."

Just as you felt a wave of despair, Shadowheart's expression shifted. The tears vanished, replaced by a mischievous sparkle. She broke into laughter, her shoulders shaking with amusement.

"Got you!" she exclaimed, wiping away the fake tears. "Did you really think I'd fall for that?"

You sighed, a mix of relief and exasperation washing over you. "I can't believe you turned my prank around on me."

Shadowheart grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "You should know by now that I can see through your tricks. But it was worth it to see that look on your face."

You couldn't help but laugh, the tension dissolving in the warm glow of the fire. "Alright, you got me. I promise no more pranks tonight."

Shadowheart leaned in, her lips brushing against your cheek, her breath warm against your skin. "Good. Now come on, let's get some rest. Together."

She took your hand, leading you to your shared tent. As you settled in, you felt a comforting sense of belonging, knowing that Shadowheart's sharp wit and playful nature would always keep you on your toes.

Inside the tent, Shadowheart snuggled close, her warmth a soothing balm against the chill of the night. She rested her head on your chest, her fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin.

"You know," she said softly, "I might have overdone it a bit. But seeing you so flustered was priceless."

You chuckled, wrapping your arms around her. "You had me worried there for a moment. You're a better actor than I gave you credit for."

She smiled, her eyes closing as she settled comfortably against you. "Just remember, no more tricks. I like knowing you're here with me."

You kissed the top of her head, feeling the steady rise and fall of her breath. "No more tricks," you promised. "Just us."

As the sounds of the night enveloped you, you felt a deep sense of peace. Shadowheart's presence was a constant reminder of the bond you shared, one that could weather any storm, even the playful pranks that kept your love alive.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Jaheira:

The stars were just beginning to appear in the night sky as you and Jaheira finished setting up camp. The fire crackled warmly, casting dancing shadows around the clearing. You decided it was the perfect moment to play a little prank on your ever-composed lover.

"Jaheira," you said, adopting a serious tone, "I think I'll sleep in my own tent tonight."

Jaheira looked up from her task, raising an eyebrow with an amused glint in her eye. "Oh?" she said, her voice calm and steady. "That's a relief. I've been hoping for a good night's sleep without your snoring and restless tossing."

You blinked, momentarily taken aback. "Wait, what? I don't snore!"

Jaheira's lips twitched with the hint of a smile. "Of course not, my dear. I was simply agreeing with your suggestion."

Your face fell, feeling a bit offended and confused. "I thought you'd be upset."

Jaheira's smile widened, and she let out a soft chuckle. "Oh, love, I'm just joking. I knew what you were trying to do the moment you said it."

You felt a wave of relief and amusement wash over you. "You had me there for a moment."

Jaheira stepped closer, her eyes softening with affection. She wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into a warm embrace. "I can't be fooled so easily. But nice try."

You laughed, shaking your head. "Alright, you win this time. No more jokes tonight."

Jaheira leaned in, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered, "Good. Because I actually enjoy having you beside me, even with your supposed snoring."

You felt a flush of warmth at her words, your heart swelling with affection. "I enjoy being with you too," you replied, your voice soft. "Even if you do make fun of me."

Jaheira pulled back slightly, her eyes meeting yours with a playful glint. "It's part of my charm," she said with a wink. "Now, shall we get some rest?"

You nodded, and the two of you made your way to your shared tent. Inside, Jaheira helped you settle down, her movements graceful and efficient. As you lay down, she snuggled close, her warmth a comforting presence in the cool night air.

"You know," she murmured, her fingers tracing gentle patterns on your arm, "if you really did want to sleep in your own tent, I wouldn't stop you. But I prefer having you here with me."

You smiled, your heart feeling light and content. "I prefer being here too," you said, turning to kiss her forehead. "No more pranks, I promise."

Jaheira chuckled softly. "Good. Now let's get some sleep. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

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cosmic-metanoia · 11 months ago

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Masculinity Concepts in FFXVI

***Spoilers for Final Fantasy 16***

I wanted to focus on the concept of masculinity in Final Fantasy XVI.

I really love how we see different aspects of masculinity portrayed in the characters. I won't go over every male character in the game but I'll mostly focus on the Dominants along with some side characters.

*Clive - I have a whole character analysis post dedicated to him but to highlight a couple points - he has many wonderful qualities that make him very admirable not just as a man but as a person. Despite his handsome looks that we all know and love, he has a surprising softness inside him and wears his emotions on his sleeve at times especially when it comes to Jill. We see moments when he bares his soul and weeps out of sorrow or joy which makes him more masculine, in my opinion, not less.

*Joshua - His masculinity is incredibly refreshing as it is the complete opposite of toxic masculinity. His face has soft and almost feminine-like features. He may have spent his young life being physically frail but he demonstrates a fiery strong spirit. He has this honest chivalry to him yet views everyone as equals and has a gift for poetic words as a result his study of books. He is merciful and incredibly kind but is unafraid to demonstrate his prowess on the battlefield like his older brother.

*Cid - Now this guy is your classic smokin' cowboy archetype but with MUCH better attitude. He oozes masculine charm, wit, and charisma but he uses it for the betterment of society and to persuade others to join his revolutionary cause. But his motives are candid and straightforward. I love how he didn't exist just to flirt, be eye candy, or simply be the comic relief. He becomes the mentor whose legacy lives on through Clive and bonds the hideaway folks into a real family.

*Dion - He IS the reason why Sanbreque was able to tip the scales to its favor - because he is the powerful Dominant of Bahamut. He is the prince but he climbed the ranks and earned the respect of his elite dragoons. He exudes military spirit and possesses a flair for political language as a future leader yet has a sense of honor and duty to his people. And along with that I can bring up Terence who is also a military man and climbed the ranks to be by Dion's side. Their love for each other is tender and beautiful and perceived as just another aspect of themselves.

*Kupka - Now this guy is your typical gym bro and is quite the buffoon (I cracked up when Sleipnir says something like "seems Hugo's head was filled with rocks afterall.) He gives the strong impression that he does not respect women (ahem, that servant he kicked) with the exception of Benedikta who could care less about him. Kupka is your stereotypical toxic masculine type.

*Barnabas - Another villain who uses his masculine aura to dominate and overpower. Even when it came to the intimate scene with Benedikta, he certainly gives the impression that carnal pleasure is just a means to an end. Benedikta knew immediately that he'd throw her away as soon as she lost her use to him. Also... I mean...the dude carries a huge sword like he's trying to make a statement LOL!

In terms of side characters, we see that even the hardened Blackthorne is encouraged to open up his feelings which (through many side quests) he is eventfully able to do and make peace with his past. We see the rugged Otto and his eyes brimming with tears when speaking about the late Cid or about the Bearer son he lost. We see Goetz as the gentle giant who is working on his own self-confidence. We also see Gav who gets emotional after a few kegs of ale and cares deeply about Edda and her baby. And even Uncle Byron who shows his sense of power through his financial generosity but loves to put on a good show (he would be quite the actor in Shakespeare theater!)

There are many male characters that I missed but I wanted to focus on a handful of characters. We're so used to seeing the typical battle-hardened and gruff heroes that eventually claim victory over their enemies and get the girl. It's nice to have a story where you have men with different pasts and drives that pull them forward to their futures.

I will also (hopefully soon) write about the female characters as well! :)

#ff16 #ffxvi #final fantasy 16 #final fantasy xvi #joshua rosfield #clive rosfield #ffxvi spoilers #ff16 spoilers #dion lesage #sir terence #hugo kupka #barnabas tharmr #cid telamon #gav ffxvi #cidolfus telamon

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kuromikuma · 4 months ago

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Rekindle (rewritten)

Joshua Rosfield x female reader | reunited with his betrothed.

TW: none

wc-491

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Still trying to sort out the gyomei fic but I rewrote my first ff16 fic

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"There's someone I think you would like to see." Joshua's brows furrowed in confusion at his brother's words.

"Someone I'd like to see?" he repeated, a perplexed expression crossing his face. He looked at his brother, his mind racing with the possibilities.

With that, Clive turned and left the room, leaving Joshua alone with his thoughts. He wondered who it could be that his brother thought he would like to see. A friend? A family member? The possibilities swirled through his mind, but he couldn't settle on anything specific. He decided to just wait and see, as his brother had instructed.

A few moments later, the door to the infirmary opened again. Tarja approached Joshua's bedside placing water on the side table with a slight smile on her face.

Joshua's heart skipped a beat. He straightened up in his bed. "Who is it?" he asked, slightly nervous.

He keeps his eyes on the door and a familiar girl walks in. "(Y/n)?" Joshua stands and the girl walks quickly to him and into his arms for a hug. He stands still for a moment in shock before he wraps his arms around her. While traveling with Jote he has thought a lot about what had happened to (y/n), where would she be and now she stands in front of him. Her long dark hair flowing over her shoulders. She was wearing a simple white dress, which you don't see very often now.

She tightens her hold on him. "Joshua."

Joshua couldn't believe his eyes. (Y/n) had been a childhood friend . They had grown up together, played together, and shared countless secrets. They were betrothed to each other as soon as his family found out the neighboring kingdoms queen had a daughter. After they left for phoenix gate he hadn't seen her since.

"How... how did you find her?" he asked, his mind still reeling from the surprise.

"Story for another time," Clive said. "But she's been with us at the hideaway for a while now."

Joshua's eyes filled with tears. He pulled away from the hug and reached took her hand in his. "I'm so glad you're here." he said. (Y/n) smiled and squeezed his hand. The two studied each other. Her face was radiant with beauty. The same honey colored eyes. She pulls one of her hands out of his and plays with the tips of his blond hair. She smiles, "Your hair has gotten longer."

Joshua returns her smile equally as excited about seeing her again after so long, "My hair, look at yours," he runs his fingers through the ends of her hair, "It used to reach your shoulders." Clive and Jill stand at the door watching them interact after so many years with smiles on their faces.

Then, (y/n) leaned forward and gave Joshua a gentle kiss on the cheek.

"I missed you," she said.

"I missed you too, my betrothed." Joshua replied.

/ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ

Thank you for reading

#final fantasy fanfic #final fantasy xvi fanfic #joshua rosfield x reader #Joshua Rosfield x female reader #joshua rosfield fanfic

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rosf1eld · 2 months ago

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By your side I shall remain…

Joshua x Female Reader

fluff

summary: Joshua attempts to comfort you on your period…

a/n: sadly my period JUST started so instead of sulking i’m writing !! this was written in haste so forgive me if it’s not all that. not proof read again, i’m in too much pain to care.

—

You laid, curled up in a ball at your chambers in the hideaway. Your arms were pressed tightly against your stomach. Low groans escaping your lips ever so often. You had only hoped they would end, but no these period cramps never did.

It was the first day of your period and you were stuck in your quarters, balled up on your bed. You hadn’t left your room all morning, which was not common for you. The others figured you were still resting, even though you almost never slept in.

You were always a strong warrior, not one to waste any time. Always the first one up and ready. Not many focused on your lack of presence, but Joshua.

He had contemplated checking on you, but his nerves had gotten the best of him. He stood leaning against the railing of the deck, pondering.

“Is something bothering you, Joshua?”

A voice emitted from behind Joshua, making him turn.

“hm…I’m simply lost in thought.”

Joshua gave a soft reassuring smile, which the man chuckled at.

“If you are so concerned, you can go check up on her.”

“Clive…i-it’s not…”

A light pink tint appeared on Joshua’s cheeks from his brother’s words. Of course he could figure out what was wrong.

A light chuckle left Clive as he watched Joshua’s reaction.

“There’s no point in losing your mind over something so simple, go see her.”

Clive nudged Joshua as he gave a knowing smirk, to which Joshua sighed at, he couldn’t deny his brother’s words.

“I…suppose you are right…”

Joshua nervously admitted, what was the harm

in going to check up on you?

Clive lightly pushed Joshua, as if he wanted to hurry him.

“Yes, yes I’m going!”

Joshua jokingly rolled his eyes, and began to walk in the direction of your quarters. He couldn’t help but nervously fidget as he did.

Why was he so nervous…it’s not like this was the first time he’d be in your chambers…

Joshua made his way to your room, when he finally did he hesitated. Taking a deep breath he raised his hand to knock.

Knock, Knock, Knock

Three knocks was heard from your door, to which you groaned. You didn’t want to get up and open the door, actually you didn’t want to move at all.

Reluctantly you raised your voice, “Who is it?” you called out in a tired tone.

“My lady, it’s Joshua. I only wanted to check up on you, if you wish for me to leave I shall.”

The moment you heard Joshua’s voice you recognized it, you hurriedly sat up.

shit.

You didn’t want him to see you like this. All curled up in pain, you seemed a mess, weak. You felt pathetic.

Nonetheless you stood up, hurried to the door and opened it. You always wanted to be around him, your condition wasn’t going to stop that.

“Joshua,” You breathed and gave him a soft weak smile.

“is something the matter?”

Joshua asked, immediately noticing your weariness.

You didn’t say anything instead suddenly hugged him, burying your head in his chest. He hesitated, only out of surprise. His arms wrapped around you in a gentle warm embrace.

“My lady, are you alright?”

He spoke softly, his voice like a warm blanket.

“Can you just…stay with me?”

You requested hesitantly, as if you were afraid of his rejection.

“Of course, anything you wish…”

Joshua spoke, a warm smile on his lips. You looked up at him, getting comforted just by the sight of him. You noticed quickly how Joshua’s face was completely red, he was a blushing mess.

A quiet chuckle left your mouth as you gently pulled away from him, your hand taking hold of his. You pulled him into the room, closing the door behind him.

“Will you lay with me?”

You asked him, though you were partially toying with him, you could tell how flustered he already was.

He only nodded, too embarrassed to say yes. His reaction made you laugh as you pulled him closer to you, so you both could get on bed.

As you laid down he followed, wrapping his arms around you in an almost protective embrace. Your stomach was pressed up against his, you held onto him like he was your lifeline.

“Thank you Joshua, for being here.”

You muttered quietly into his chest. A gentle kiss was planted onto your head.

“You need not thank me, I will always be here…”

You hummed silently in response, cuddling him as your eyes fluttered shut.

“Are you in pain?”

His voice quietly asked.

“mm…It’s just…my period.”

You groaned, he gently caressed your back.

“You being here…is more than enough.”

You left a gentle kiss on his chest, snuggling deeper.

“Then know this, I shall always be by your side.”

#final fantasy xvi #i love joshua rosfield #joshua rosfield x reader #final fantasy series #period cramps #i’m in so much pain #joshua rosfield save me #joshua x you

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bhaalsdeepbat · 10 months ago

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Hellspawn idea that hit me like a religious vision

Astarion can't stop thinking of the color of this flower Karlach found during one of the more idyllic moments of traveling to Baldur's Gate, and it should have been such an inconsequential moment. It was just a flower. But the delight burning in the embers of her mirthful eyes just sticks with him. And it's mostly annoying how happy she is about everything, but he also can't hold it against her when she, too, is adjusting to sudden, newfound freedom, and hers is much more limited than his.

And it isn't even a romantic moment or anything, right? Karlach just sees it on the edge of where the last bit of life was able to grow between the Shadow Curse and the land beyond it. She's STOKED. Bellowing in that way she does about this flower. She just takes a moment to enjoy it, then moves on. Doesn't pick it. Doesn't touch it. Just moves on with her day.

but this moment sticks with him and he thinks about it when they're curled together under the stars that night, his body fitting against the curve of hers, his cold weight soaking up every bit of warmth her overheated body will give him, and her arms are SO strong, but so gentle in the way she holds him.

The immortal forced to reckon with mortality bc this woman, who truly believe deserves a much better lot in life, only has a finite amount of time to appreciate the flowers and the sunrise and just. everything.

He'll still be able to live his life from the shadows and find beauty in the darkness, but Karlach?

He can see her death coming on the horizon and there's so much he actually wants to do, now that they're trying to make things real. and he just. is feeling the pressure bc he did waste time trying to get Karlach into a position to protect him and he'll forever feel bad about it (but not say anything bc that's his burden to carry).

So the immortal keeps thinking about this flower and what Karlach would look like adorned in beautifully crafted items accented in blue: gilded chains and cuffs adorning her hair and horns, sturdy leather dyed and stamped, fine silk embroidered with expensive floss, of all the nice things he wishes she could experience - because he promised her new experiences once they returned - and just.

When everyone's sleeping, he just spends that time sneakily embroidering this doublet he stole from a vendor the moment they entered the city. He's working against time, too, cus this is a gift he HAS to give her before her time is up. So, his skilled fingers move quickly, embroidering this black doublet with the most beautiful embroidery done mostly in blue, but accented with red, orange, and yellow.

He's almost done when Karlach tells him one night that she thinks she doesn't have much longer. Her heart is in overdrive and she can feel her body beginning to give out, to fail her when freedom was so close she could taste it. and it isn't fair. Astarion is SO angry at the world and at the Gods because he FINALLY has someone and. Time is running out. he feels even more powerless here because it really is just up to Karlach and whether she wants to keep going or not. He tries to talk to her about it, but usually they just end up fighting because they're both stubborn.

So, he avoids the conversation, mostly. Just tries to pretend the end isn't peeking over the horizon.

He doesn't give her the doublet right away. He doesn't want that finality, to give it to her and to know this may very well be the last time he gets to give her something he put his time into for her like this. and he has other gifts for her. a new owlbear to go with clive (even if he thinks that's juvenile, but he's not going to judge....well. he will, but not as much as if it were Gale who still had his stuffies). but he just. cannot bring himself give her this doublet bc he knows it's the first and last time she'll be adorned in something that he put together for her. the embroidered doublet is his labor of love, and the man does NOT like to labor.

embroidering isn't even necessarily his favorite thing to do, it's just one of his skills he actually has. he lacks self-confidence when it comes to what qualities he thinks he has that make him worthy of a relationship, but he can make sure his partners' clothes are mended and presentable.

When he finally gives it to her, it's after they take down Gortash. Karlach spends that very night alone, and Astarion cannot take it. He hasn't spent a single night away from Karlach since before they arrived at the Shadow-Cursed Lands, and now they're literally counting the days until they're taken from one another. He's big mad, seething, but very respectful to her bc he understands. he's not mat at HER, he's mad at everyone that took everything they could from her.

That's the first night he actually sits down and starts coming up with a plan. And it's a genuinely good one, but it's the first good one he's had in almost two-centuries. This is when he comes up with how he wants to convince Karlach to let him go to Avernus with her. He's not ready to let go and he is willing to murder his way through the Hells with her if he gets to see her smile about inconsequential things again.

He gives her the doublet the night before they plan to head for the Morphic Pool. They know it may be their last night together, so after a group meal, when everyone is winding down to turn in for the night, they make their way up to the roof of the tavern. They sit beneath the stars, side by side, but they're just sitting and refusing to look at one another.

Karlach is unusually still and silent. She's exhausted. Astarion swears she had his undead heart beating again, but seeing her like that had it stop cold in his chest. He tries to break the silence, to cut off his own thoughts so he doesn't spiral into despair thinking of the unknown, but just ends up reaching out to take her hand.

She's hot to the touch. He can feel that her temperature IS increasing and just. imagining what she's feeling and how she's been pent up this entire trip. like no fucking release from the pressure of this shitty heart that only does its job in the right environment.

She's the one who breaks it first. to thank him for his company. to tell him that he was a little fucking SHIT when she first met him, but she always could see something good behind the veneer of mischief hiding the fear in his piercing eyes. but she loves him and she's so, so happy to have been given a chance to love someone, to touch them freely, to feel loved in return. it was something she was missing in the last 10 years of the loneliness of being simple cannon fodder in an endless war.

and she doesn't want to talk abt this. she had been avoiding it, took him on their date to pretend like he wasn't doomed to be left alone in his eternity. And neither of them even MENTION the elephant in the room. like they're both talking circles around what's going to happen, but they're being honest about the feelings they have for one another. like the only thing they even voice concern for is not being able to take out the Absolute.

Under the stars, accompanied by declarations of love spilling from their lips, Astarion produces the doublet. Karlach is just ecstatic that she received a gift, but when she realizes HE embroidered it, she's just kinda like.

This is. the most beautiful gift i've ever received, fangs.

and her calloused fingers, fingers that had seen more war and death than anyone her age should have to, gently touch the floss, follow the design, and she realizes the particular shades of orange, red, and yellow are in her eyes, in her body, in her chest, all complimented by the blue thread he used as the main color of the design.

It's a design made of the sun, moon, and stars, trailing up the front, across the broad shoulders, and down the back yoke.

she's his sun. She's the gentle warmth of the sun's rays comforting him when he would rather recede to the shadows and fall back on old habits. she's his moon and his stars, his guiding light when everything seems like it may crash down and suffocate him. She's everything good in this world if you look for it. She's proof that you can be put through shit and still come out a decent person.

Karlach does cry, but it's nothing dramatic. It's a few tears, her own stomach and chest twisting with an overwhelming sense of loss and yearning; the loss of time when her light inevitably extinguishes and a deep yearning to stay. it's in direct opposition to her desire to die in the place she loves simply so she can keep living this life with the man she loves.

She puts the doublet on, wearing it that night while he cuddled against her side. They held each other beneath the stars, until it was time for Karlach to get some rest for the upcoming battle. Astarion spends that entire night just watching her, playing with her hair, getting every last touch he can, then makes a vow that he WILL save Karlach, just as she saved him.

#bat rambles #hellspawn #karlach #astarion #bg3 #i'm dying on the hill that astarion's preferred way of showing love #would be gift giving (making sure his partner is taken care of) and touch #but like the former he would NOT draw any attention to that's between him and his partner #like generally gift giving with him is someone just finds it wrapped up on their bed like he's a cat #or in some cases #he'll just casually give it to them during an unrelated convo and. not mention the gift once #for example i imagine when he and mercy are going through loot #to decide what to keep and what to sell #astarion will sometimes pick a ring from the bunch #or maybe he had one he had found while actively looting and tucked it away specifically to give #but he'd just reach over to put the ring on one of their fingers #then go back to what he's doing #just gestures like that #he's dramatic but i think he'd be awkward with gift giving #bc part of it is just how long he went without y'know #once he loves someone he just needs all their needs to be met and then some #one day i'll actually write this out but #here's a quick play by play of what i keep envisioning lmao #long post #bat writes #fic idea

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offbranddrpepsi · 2 months ago

Note

So hi hi this will be a request that has nothing to do with Reyna `^` could I request a karlach X reader, Karlach accidentally tore Clive her bear-plush companions arm off, She didn’t know anything about sewing so she asked reader to help :]

Have a good day/night <3!

I love Karlach so fucking much man you don't even know, she is my first and only romance she owns so much of my heart, ANYWAYS OF COURSE I CAN DO THIS FOR THE HEART OF AVERNUS. Warning: Slight spoilers for Karlachs story!!

A small whine sounded from your side as you sat on the floor of your tent, needle held in your mouth. "Karlach, breath or you're going to overheat." Putting another stitch into the tiny buddies arm you leaned away slightly at the heat coming off of your firey friend. In response the tiefling took a massive breath in before breathing out, a smoke coming out of both her mouth and vents.

"Sorry," Her pitiful expression was turned to the little well loved bear in your hands. She sounded close to tears but you knew that it took more to pull waterworks from her. Karlach could look down right heartbroken for hours before she actually burst. "He's all thats left of mom, only thing good I've ever gotten from Bladurs gate." You hummed in response, another stitch pulling his arm back into place. A few more and he would be as good as new, ready for more love from his owner. "Nothing else survived Avernus?" Finishing the first round of stitches you decided to do another simpler round to add some structure, just some whip stitches to make sure there weren't any weak points.

Shaking her head Karlach looked at your hands worked, eyes trained on them much like they were when Gale threaded the weave into spells. "Zariel scrapped my armor and Gortash made sure I wasn't ready, bastard, I couldn't have kept anything even if I wanted to. Clive only survived because he stayed shoved in my pack, imps tried to get him a few times but they're imps, they aren't that though."

"That's awful, at least you still have him." Finishing sewing you cut the left over thread off and held up the little buddy to check your work. Karlach held her breath as you jiggled him around and gave his arm a few gentle tugs, testing the new stitches just as much as you were testing the rest of him in case he needed any quick fixes. "There you go! Good as new!" Handing it to her she jumped to her feet, bouncing happily as she checked him over herself. It only took a moment for her to pull you to your own feet and directly into her chest, Clive squished between the two of you. "Thanks soldier! Promise it won't happen again!" Her chin nuzzled into your hair before she parted to return to her tent. You could swore you heard her talking to the little bear, mumbling apologies to it before placing him in his spot of honor.

#karlach #karlach x reader #baldur's gate 3

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misselysia · 10 months ago

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Just for you (Part 2)

Part 1

pairing: clive rosfield x (female) reader word count: 356

a/n: I'm so sorry for not updating in months :,) I'm struggling so hard rn with everything in life- I got way too much problems for a 18 year old And I think my biggest fear here is that I'm not good enough at writing I. Am. Struggling. So. Hard. With. Writing. In. English. I mean my english is pretty decent I think, but it's so hard to express everything. Anyways,, have a great day/night/idk <3

With a resigned sigh, Clive knelt down to gather the scattered wyvern tails. Each flower held a silent tale, and he could almost feel the weight of your gesture. Feeling the weight of the misunderstanding, he decided to seek clarity.

Clive made his way down to the bunks, taking it slow to not wake up the whole hideaway. The creaky old wood tried to give him away, but he was sneaky enough to keep it quiet. He raised his hand, knocking softly on the door, a gentle sound meant for your ears alone. After a moment, the door opened, revealing you with traces of old tears in your eyes. Without uttering a word, you nodded, an unspoken invitation for him to enter. He quietly entered your room, closing the door with a soft thud. As he settled in beside you on your bed, there was a palpable heaviness in the air. "I noticed those wyvern tails," he admitted, his eyes reflecting a mix of sincerity and regret. "I knew they were from you. I needed to talk because I don't want you thinking there's anything happening between me and Jill." It was like a weight lifted from your chest, and for a moment, the room seemed lighter. However, after a moment of silence, Clive went on, "There's someone else who's caught my attention. But I've been hesitant to say it, I admit." Silence. You looked at him, curiosity in your eyes. He continued, "I didn’t expect to find someone who would make me reconsider everything, but you did." The room felt charged with emotions as Clive confessed. "My Lady, I fell for you the moment I saw you. It wasn’t about Jill or anyone else. It was always about you."

The sincerity in his eyes melted away the remnants of tears in your eyes and a genuine smile formed on your face.

Unable to contain the overwhelming emotions, you leaned in, cupping Clive's face gently in your hands. The atmosphere crackled with anticipation as your lips meet in a tender kiss, sealing the unspoken connection that had blossomed between you. "It's always been you, my Lady."

#clive rosfield #clive x reader #ffxvi x reader #ff16 #ffxvi #clive rosfield x reader #ff16 x reader

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noctylisse · 1 year ago

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Back To You, I Will

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ A promise he whispers to his lady, the night before he departs.

Clive Rosfield x Fem Reader [Set before the Night of Flames. Takes place the night before Clive sets off to Stillwind.]

You feel the cold rush of the wind on your skin as you lay in bed. Moonlight shines across the room, tiny specks of dust floating in its wake like little fairies.

Rosalith is silent now, save for the occasional gentle sound of wagon wheels moving across the pavements.

The curtains of your bedroom window dance softly with the wind’s command. It is peaceful. And slowly, your eyes close as sleep washes over you.

Not long after you drift asleep, a loud crash sounds from outside and jolts you awake.

“Fucking bearer! Quiet down!” a slavemaster’s gravelly voice could be heard from outside, followed by the immediate defense of his slave in a trembly voice. “I-it wasn’t me! I w-was just..!”

“I don’t give a shit! Just be fucking quiet you damned thing! And clean up your mess!” The slavemaster shuts his doors, leaving the slave to clean up whatever mess was there.

You sigh. It’s unfortunate how these bearers are branded and treated as such. A recent memory sparks in your mind. One of Clive Rosfield, the Archduke’s son, helping and smiling at a bearer who had dropped fruit from a carton. He treated the man with respect as he should be, despite the beliefs of the non-branded common folk.

“Ever so kind, he is.” You whisper, smiling at the memory and facing the wall. “How lucky I must be to have his eyes on me…”

Quite forbidden, your love is. The difference in status would ruin Clive's reputation all the way through. But it didn’t matter to him, it never did. He has never failed to reassure you no matter what doubt you had.

Consumed by the thoughts you had of your lover, you fail to hear the creak of your windows as they begin to be pried open fully. The curtains begin to speed up their dance as the wind gets stronger.

A leg wearing a fine leather boot swings down, finding its footing on the window stool. Its pair does the same, and the very one who occupies your mind swoops down in his entirety. He’s crouching now, both arms keeping him steady.

“I should’ve been more careful..” He sighs as he looks downwards, to his left. The poor bearer was forced to clean the mess he had made, accidentally tripping on and breaking off a huge tile of the slavemaster’s roof as he was quickly trying to get to you.

He silently promises to give the man a gift of apologies (disguised as a spontaneous gift) before he departs in the morrow.

Your eyes narrow. That smooth voice. So familiar, so gentle. You turn around to face him.

“Clive!” You smile. It always felt nice to say his name. All the more to have him right there in front of you. He smiles back, and you sit up, swinging your legs off the bed and opening your arms to him. He rushes into your embrace and presses a kiss on your head.

“I wanted to see you before I depart to Stillwind tomorrow.” He says softly, letting go of you before kneeling down on the floor to embrace you again, his arms wrapped around your waist and his head on your shoulder. He presses a kiss on your shoulder while you play with his hair.

“But you’ll be seeing me tomorrow before you go.” You start. “I’ll be there to see you off.”

“But that’s different.” He lifts his head up to look at you. “Everybody would be seeing me off. I won’t be able to embrace you like this. To be with you like this.”

He looks away to press the back of your hand to his lips, before looking back at you again. “I only ever wish to be with you freely, my love.”

You smile sadly. “I do as well and you know that.” You caress his cheek. “But given your position..”

You sigh, placing a hand on his left cheek. He is a bearer, unbranded. You wish he would stay that way.

He frowns. “It doesn’t matter. It shouldn’t.” He stands, gently pulling you up with him. “I promise you, my love. I will find a way.”

He begins to smile softly, deep ocean blue eyes twinkling as the both of you are bathed in moonlight. Ever so hopeful he is, you can’t help but share the same hope. For the future, for both of you. You smile.

He leans down, his forehead against yours, his smile and yours never wavering. “It is my duty to be the Shield of Rosaria…” He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. “Just as much as it is my duty to be yours. To love you, come what may, my love.” He presses his lips against yours. Soft and gentle, the way he kisses you. So full of love.

You pull away from one another briefly before you cup his face in your hands and give him a short but sweet kiss in return.

Your eyes look away from him for a moment, focusing on the moon. A silent agreement is made between you and the heavenly body. To keep him safe, for his safe return.

Looking back at him, you smile softly, arms around his neck. “I trust your mission to be successful, my love. I just know the soldiers will sing your praises. As they should be.” He kisses your cheek as a silent ‘thank you’.

“Be safe, Clive.” You whisper as he leads you both toward the window.

“I promise I will.”

"Come back in one piece, you must."

He lifts your hand up to his lips and presses a soft kiss against the back of it. “Back to you, I will, my lady.”

And with that, he kisses your lips once more before he leaves.

#clive x reader #clive rosfield x reader #clive ffxvi #clive rosfield x you #ffxvi #final fantasy 16 #final fantasy 16 x reader #final fantasy xvi #ffxvi x reader #clive rosfield fluff

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neimlise · 1 year ago

Text

Wishes Upon Wishes

Joshua Rosfield x Reader

(This work is also posted on ao3)

AUTHOR’S NOTE

Joshua maybe OCC here, only because I skipped through the playthroughs XD. Also, be warned that there are wrong grammars as for English is not my mother tongue. Enjoy the story!

(Slight spoilers, be warned.)

SUMMARY

After Ultima’s defeat, Clive, Joshua, and Dion returned safely. Upon hearing the news, everyone gathered around to celebrate. It’s currently late at night and people were starting to get tired. With the celebration still going on, some chose to retire to their chambers while others stayed and celebrated. Clive and Jill were somewhere else doing God-knows-what (we all know what they're doing), Dion is nowhere to be seen, Cid were celebrating with Gav and others, and Torgal, the Goodest Boi of all times, were munching on a bone as a reward for his hard work. As for Joshua, who is alone, he was wandering around in search of (Name). A few minutes later, he finally found them. He found them to be by themselves, admiring the luminous moon and their shining companions called the stars.

———————————————————————————

(Name) was humming a tune as they were admiring the luminous moon and the shining stars. They started to count the clusters on the night sky, chuckling to themselves as they kept on loosing count.

Unknowingly to them, as they kept on counting the stars, Joshua walked over to them, curious as the stargazer were counting the stars. He looked at them from afar, studying them quietly as if admiring a painting. After a few seconds, he finally went up to them.

“A bit hard to count, isn’t it?” he chuckled.

Startled, (Name) glanced at him before becoming at ease once they realized it was just him. (Name) laughed inconsolably and peered down the balcony.

“Of course,” (Name) laugh, looking at the night sky, “there’s so many of them.”

Joshua chuckled as he leaned against the balcony’s wall, nodding in agreement.

“They’re wonderful to look at, even if they’re just lights in the sky to others” Joshua smiled warmly.

“You wouldn’t happen to know what to wish for if one were to see a shooting star, would you?” he chuckled, feeling a bit silly.

(Name) smiled and looked at him.

"I wouldn't," (Name) started off, "we all have different kinds of wishes to make, after all."

“Very true," Joshua nodded, "everyone has something different, that they want in their lives."

Joshua then looked at (Name), tilting his head towards them.

"What of you?" He asked, "if given one opportunity for a wish, what would you wish for?” Joshua looked at the sky for a moment, then back at (Name) as he finished his sentence.

"Well," (Name) smirked at him, "my wish wouldn't fulfill itself if I were to tell you."

Joshua chuckled as he listened to them but were confused to what they had told him.

“Really? I trust that I could keep it to myself, if you’d trust me on that." He smiled softly as he tried to reassure (Name), before looking back at the starry sky, seeming to gaze at it deeply.

Joshua was a man who liked to listen more than talk, and it showed in the gentle smile as he listened to them, and he didn’t interrupt them in the slightest.

(Name) hid their face in their crossed arms as they turned away from him.

"Well," (Name) trailed off, "It matters no more. One of my wishes came true."

(Name) then smiled at Joshua.

"And that's all it really matters."

Joshua tilted his head curiously with a puzzled smile.

Soon, that puzzled smile soon gave way to a warm and comforting one, and Joshua looked at (Name) with a soft look.

“And what was your wish that came true, if I may ask?”

“I’m genuinely curious what it was” he muttered, leaning against the balcony and listening to them intently as they were deciding to answer his question.

(Name) was silent, debating whether they should tell him their wish or not. Pressing their lips into a thin line, (Name) gathered the courage to look at him. Words were caught in their throat, their eyes glistened ever so slightly.

“I...” (Name) stopped, “Well...” (Name) went silent again.

It was silence for a short while. Joshua was patiently waiting while (Name) was still debating.

The uneasy silence was finally broken by (Name), making a final decision.

They sighed and looked at him.

"I wished to meet you once more... Years after the tragedy in Phoenix Gate...And the event that took place in Rosaria… After years of believing you were gone." (Name) trailed off, fidgeting their hands. "But, to my surprise, you're in front of me, speaking to me."

"It's like," (Name) continued, "I feel as though I am dreaming."

Joshua looked at them in shock and surprise, before gently putting his hand on their shoulder. A gentle and warm smile filled his face as he did and he was left speechless, not knowing what to say as he looked at (Name).

“Is that why you’ve always looked away from me? Because you thought I was a ghost?” he asked with a chuckle, before shaking his head and laughing a bit in nervousness “I believe that we both have seen plenty of ghost through all the years, haven’t we?” he said with a warm smile.

(Name) rolled their eyes, smiling.

"Oh, ha-ha." A hand was extended to gently shove Joshua back as they sarcastically laughed.

(Name) then leaned on the balcony and looked glumly up at the sky

Joshua got closer to them, a light smile on his face as he raised a hand gently and brushed their hair. Joshua looked at them with a soft look, his other hand resting upon the wall.

The sky was beautiful, with stars dancing in the night’s sky. It was calming to look at it. But he prefers to look at (Name). As he continued to look at (Name) with the same gentle smile, one that showed that he wanted to care for them, to protect and never hurt them, just let them enjoy the beauty around themselves, and him himself.

(Name)'s pout changed into a smile, which they tried to hide by clearing their throat and angling their body away from his touch.

(Name) could feel the heat rising up to their face.

Joshua lowered his hand and nodded in acknowledgement. He stepped back a bit to give them space and just looked at the stars, his face showing no sign of emotion. Joshua just wanted them to be happy, and he wasn’t sure if they were. That’s why he remained quiet as he let them think for a moment. The quietness of the night allowed them to take a moment of peace, which was a rarity these days.

Unknowingly to him, (Name) was watching him at the corner of their eyes. Their stomach churned as Joshua was not showing any signs of emotions. They rubbed their arms, in a attempt to calm their beating heart, and leaned themselves to him. Their shoulders touching his. (Name)'s heart accelerated more; palm started to sweat.

Joshua tilted his head lightly when he felt them leaning onto him, and a smile flashed upon his face when they were closer to each other than ever before. The silence remained as he looked down at them for a moment, and after a moment he spoke quietly, his voice soft and calm and his expression full of kindness.

“May I ask you something?” Joshua whispered, his voice soft as velvet as it washed over them, his tone full of care and concern.

Surprised by the sudden question, (Name) turned to face him. They then nodded, allowing him to proceed.

Joshua took another step closer to them as he looked at them with that same care, that same kindness that had filled his eyes. His heart was pounding in his ears, and he held his breath as he got ready to speak.

“W-would you like to dance with me?” he finally whispered; his voice trembled as if he was scared to have asked in the first place, but his kindness remained despite it. He still had the same soft, warm, and gentle look in his eyes as he raised his hand towards (Name).

As he made such a request, (Name) was taken aback and shocked. (Name) chuckled, placed a hand on his and made a playful bow. They addressed him directly, saying, "Yes, I would like to dance with you."

Joshua smiled gently as he reached out a hand to lift them up, their beauty shining in the moonlight once again, as if they were a divine. There was something in their eyes, a kind of brightness in them, as if they had a kind heart, and a good soul. Joshua looked at (Name) with that same kindness in his eyes and as they stood up together. With his voice remaining calm as he held their hand.

“You look stunning tonight” Joshua whispered, his tone full of admiration, as he gently led them towards the dance floor.

"And you, my lord," (Name) whispered back, "look ravishingly handsome tonight."

Joshua chuckled at their comment. As they got to the dance floor, he placed his other hand on (Name)'s hip. He looked to them, the kindness and concern in his eyes never faded as he looked into their eyes.

“What dance shall we begin with first?” he asked politely, though his tone was full of concern, as if he was worried about messing up. Joshua was definitely new to all this dance thing, and it showed in the way he carefully and gently leaned towards them, holding their hand and trying to give them some confidence.

"Any dance you would like." (Name) answered, putting their hand on his shoulder.

Joshua looked at then for a moment in thought, before a thought came to his mind and he smiled, a hint of excitement in his eyes. He looked at (Name) once again, his expression full of kindness and love still as he whispered too them.

"How about a waltz? I've always wanted to try one" he whispered, a bit of a confidence in his voice as the excitement rose in his chest.

(Name) chuckled, smiling at him, "If that's what you choose, then I have no right to refuse it."

Joshua smiled as well at (Name), and together they began to dance. Joshua was not the best dancer, but he was a willing learner, and did his best to keep the step correct. After some brief moments of practicing the steps together, Joshua eventually got a hold of the steps, and began to be confident with his moves. As the music flowed through them, Joshua looked at them with that same loving, kind smile. The kindness and love in his eyes only grew, and he felt so happy to be with them.

Like Joshua, (Name) eventually got hold of the steps, beginning to feel confident with him. They looked at him as well, the corner of their mouth went from ears to ears. The look in his eyes when he looks at (Name) caused their heart to beat faster. No one have ever looked at them like that, no one but him. Before They lost themselves into his eyes, they let out a sighed and closed their eyes, avoiding making eye contact with him. Still smiling and following his moves, (Name) whispered out.

"I must admit that another wishes of mine was granted."

Joshua’s smile got bigger, one that almost made him look like a kid. It was contagious, how kind and pure his smile was, the way in which that smile gave way to a look of admiration and care and protectiveness for (Name), the way in which he wanted to protect them and their smile. He still wanted to know more about their wishes and the reason for it, but he knew to take his time with it. However, as curiosity got the best of him, he continued to lead them around the dance floor as they danced and enjoyed their time together.

“And which wish would that be?” he whispered to them

"The wish I had was for you to ask if I could have danced with you." (Name) returned the whisper, resting their cheek on his shoulder, and kept their smile hidden.

Joshua’s smile grew even bigger as (Name) said that, and as he looked at them, he was in awe once again of how pure their smile was. They were so astonishing, that even the moon and stars must feel jealous of them. Joshua’s heart nearly stopped in this moment, as he was completely mesmerized. He looked at them, in complete awe of their allurement, and a warm and comforting feeling grew within him as he looked at them “Well, you have a very kind heart, you know that?” he whispered in an affectionate tone.

(Name) grinned and looked at him with affection as they laughed. "Not as kind as your heart, I'm sure Clive, Jill, or Jote will agree with me."

Joshua blushed slightly at (Name)'s words, as his heart skipped a beat before a warm and comforting feeling grew within him once again. The thought of him being that kind in their eyes made him feel so happy, and he had his reasons to try and show that more and more as they spent time together. Joshua’s expression softens as he smiled at them, one of kindness and love and care, he could even consider that look a look of devotion, as he looked at them “You’re too kind to say that” he whispered back.

"Well," (Name) whispered back again, eyes trailing down to his lips, "I guess we're going to have to change that."

"Can I be selfish with you?" (Name) then requested, "can I make a third wish and have it granted?"

Joshua’s heart skipped a beat when (Name) looked down at his lips, and when they proposed their other wish to come true his face grew completely red. He swallowed, before speaking back in a soft and nervous voice, his tone full of concern for them.

“And what would your other wish be?” he whispered, his expression full of concern and love, his heart fluttering a bit.

"My wish..." (Name) trailed off, leaning forward and encircling his neck with their arms before hovering their lips over his. "Your kiss," they confessed, "may I have it?"

Joshua was taken aback, not sure what to do or how to respond to their request. The thought of kissing them sent his heart into overdrive, as his heartbeat faster and a warm and comforting feeling grew within him. A smile made its way onto his face, and he looked at (Name) with kindness and care, whispering to them “I would love to let you have my kiss...” His voice soft and gentle and sweet as he did so, leaning in and kissing lightly and softly on their lips.

As they smiled against his lips, (Name) closed their eyes. Their heart synchronized with his as they tighten their arms around his neck.

Joshua kept the kiss going for as long as (Name) wanted. His heart was hammering against his chest as the kiss lasted for even longer than he was expecting. As they held each other tight, Joshua’s hand rested on their hips as he held them close. His lips were soft and gentle, and he put a lot of affection and care into this kiss.

Joshua and (Name) didn’t want to break the kiss yet, as their heart fluttered and a warm feeling grew within them, as if they were together alone in the whole world, as if nothing else matter but the two of them now.

#joshua rosfield #joshua rosfield x reader #ffxvi #ffxvi x reader #final fantasy xvi #final fantasy xvi x reader #final fantasy 16 #final fantasy 16 x reader

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tharmrs · 1 year ago

Text

{ more than ever }

// more than ever i see the real you, and it surrounds //

| clive rosfield x fem.reader |

summary: where clive comforts his love in her time of need.

word count: 767

the soft sounds of crying were all clive rosfield could hear when he was suddenly roused from his deep slumber.

there was a coldness felt coursing through his veins, an unnatural lack of warmth that caused him to awaken so suddenly. as he opens his eyes, he was achingly aware of how much lighter his chest felt, alerting him of the fact that his beloved had somehow awoken in the middle of the night and left him.

clive could feel his heart aching at the thought, nearly breaking when he thinks back to how strange his lover was acting as of late. each time he came back from his duties as a knight, the more his beloved would seem to retreat back into her shell.

yet still, she always kept that same beaming smile on her face. despite how it never seemed to reach at her eyes, she was always quick to reassure him that she was fine and was merely tired, is all.

but he knew his lover well.

he knew of her tendencies to keep to herself and hide her own burdens so as to not worry anyone else.

wanting to give her the space that she needed, clive respected her wishes and didn't try to pry about her true feelings. he remained ever so loving, ever so patient with her as he simply waited for her to come around and tell him of her feelings.

and he supposes tonight was a breaking point for her.

not wasting another second, clive shoves back the quilted blanket, his bare feet landing against the wooden floors of their shared home as he softly cries out her name. he hears a hiccup and a few sniffles, further prompting him to find her.

with his heavy footsteps echoing throughout the cottage, he looks towards the living quarters and feels his heart aching at the sight that was settled before him. there his lover was, curled up in a ball as her bloodshot eyes met with his concerned gaze.

"oh love, c'mere." clive takes a few steps towards his beloved woman, reaching out to her as he immediately takes her in his arms. with her pressed so intimately close against his bare chest, clive feels the way she buries her face within his skin. as if wanting to bask in his warmth, he feels her lips press a gentle kiss against his heart, making it flutter with its rapid beats from the confines of his chest.

"i'm sorry." as if his mere presence was enough to comfort her, clive listens as her sobs settles down, like a storm turning into drizzling rain as he could feel her pressing kisses against his skin. "i-i had been struggling with some dark thoughts these past couple of weeks, and i am so sor-"

clive then cuts her off the moment she began to apologize once more, leaning forward to press a bruising kiss against her parted lips. he relishes in her sweet sighs of his name, allowing her hands to cling to his broad shoulders as he continues to mold his lips together with hers. he slants his lips perfectly, slotting them together with hers like a missing puzzle piece as she moans against his kiss.

he thinks back to all of the times she has been there for him, through his darkest memories pertaining to his fallen kingdom and the loss of his father and brother. during that time, clive really felt as though he wanted to end himself, to somehow reunite with those that he loved-

yet it was her who stopped him; her who loved and cherished him and saved him from his own darkness.

and could he really call himself her lover if he couldn't do the same with her?

he was the first to pull away from the kiss, eyes looking deeply into her own as he lets out a soft murmur of her name. "i love you, my darling. always remember that. it was you who saved me from my own darkness, and i will always be grateful for the fact that our lives had crossed paths long ago."

clive embraces her even tighter then, pressing a kiss against the crown of her hair as she slowly began to cry once more while in his arms. "nothing has changed, cry as much as you need to. let it all out, i'm here, i'm here."

with the two lovers being comforted by their mere presence alone, time steadily passes by, further strengthening their bond as they knew that they could never and would never part from each other.

fin.

------

do not repost; plagiarize; or translate.

#mine #clive rosfield x reader #rosfield clive x reader #clive rosfield x you #rosfield clive x you #final fantasy xvi x reader #ff16 x reader

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drabblesandimagines · 1 year ago

Text

Pining

Clive Rosfield x fem reader, based on this request. Angsty fluff, minor game spoilers.

You’d experienced a lot of hurt in your life.

It had hurt when, days after your 14th Name Day, you’d manifested magick without a crystal. Your father had marched you up to the constable’s office with no hesitation, your mother and sister at the door watching, but not protesting as you were dragged away. Your father wouldn’t even look at you as you sobbed, begging him to forgive you, that you didn’t mean it, but he was unmoved. The hurt of being so easily flung aside by people you thought were meant to love you unconditionally.

It had hurt when you’d been Branded a few days afterwards - strapped down to a table as a soldier had a hand grasped around your throat to keep you still, all whilst the Brand Master inked your skin. It was rare to awaken so late and they couldn’t risk losing such a healthy Bearer to the poisoned black carved into your skin, or so you’d overheard, so it was imperative you did not move. If your face wasn’t burning, your throat was from the taunting squeeze of your windpipe to keep you still.

It had hurt when a series of masters had worked you to the bone from the off. When they’d kicked, punched, whipped you for the days they felt you weren’t performing your best, that you were being lazy, not that you were drained of energy from a diet of scraps.

It had hurt knowing your life had a price, a physical amount of gil exchanged between hands, and one which lessened as you aged. It had hurt when your intoxicated master tried to flog you on the street to afford a few more pints of ale, until Cid came to your rescue.

It had hurt the day you’d had your Brand removed, despite the draught Tarja had you drink in preparation. The Brand removal was necessary when you joined the Cursebreakers – an unescorted Branded was too much of a target, after all. Tarja’s touch was gentle, her scalpel hand practiced and cautious, but it was never going to be pain-free.

All that hurt in your life, but this, you think - as you watch Clive and Jill deep in conversation, the way his eyes seem to light up when she places her hand on his arm - is the worst hurt of all.

You hadn’t meant to fall in love with Clive Rosfield.

There had been many Bearers easy on the eye across the years, but romance was strictly forbidden. Being caught in too close proximity with one another was enough to warrant a beating in many master’s eyes, the guilty parties made example of so much that you didn’t even dare to dream of finding love.

Even after settling down in the Hideaway, you hadn’t thought of it…

Until Clive.

Somehow, over the years, he’d crept his way into your heart, slowly and cautiously, and you don’t know how he did, but he’s there now and it hurts.

You’d met Jill in the infirmary. You weren’t a physicker by any means, but Tarja said your gentle manner was ideal for comforting those who were in pain or sick, so you’d been helping out there when Jill was first brought in, clinging to life.

The two of you had become best friends almost instantly – helping someone in those early days of recovery bonds two like nothing else - and your friendship had only grown stronger over the years. It felt like having your sister back, the jokes and secrets once again shared as she taught you how to braid your hair. You’d sobbed for each other in her room one night - for lost childhoods, lost dreams, lost family.

Before any feelings towards Clive had begun to develop within you, you’d gently teased her about him – asking her if he was her suitor.

“Clive?” She smiled, stifling a laugh. “No, he’s practically my brother. I love him, but not like that.”

Being friends with Jill had led to being friends with Clive, naturally. There had been tears when they’d returned from Drake’s Head sans Cid after Titan’s attack on the Hideaway - tears in relief at each other’s safety and tears for those lost. You’d been one of the lucky ones, escaping with minimal injury and had immediately thrown yourself into helping find and build the new Hideaway on the blighted lake. There was always something to be done – endless carpentry work, covert supply runs, shifts in the infirmary, taking turns making big batches of stews before Molly stepped up to save everyone the stomach ache.

At the turn of the year in the new Hideaway, the ale had been flowing at the Tub & Crown – music playing away on the orchestrator in a rare night of celebration. There was still work to do – the base would require constant maintenance and expansion of course, and not to mention the issue of the Mothercrystals themselves – but the mood was joyful.

Otto had even asked Lady Charon for a dance, much to everyone’s amusement. Everyone had held their breath, bracing themselves for her quick-witted tongue, but Charon had shrugged and accepted his outstretched hand. As they waltzed, others begun to join them, and you watched with an enchanted smile on your face. It felt like almost something out of a fairytale. Gav soon approached your table and extended a hand to Jill in a flourish, she is soon whisked away into the fray, laughing as Gav definitely has two left feet.

An outstretched hand appears to your side.

“May I have this dance, my lady?” You turn to see Clive, not dressed in his full armour, just his white undershirt and leather breeches. He seems softer for it, more relaxed in casual attire for a change.

“I… I don’t know how, I’m afraid.” You shake your head at his offer – you were never a lady of the court after all. Not like Jill.

“I assure you I am very out of practice, so we’ll do fine together. Please?” It must be the ale, you think, as you relent and take his hand.

He pulls you to your feet with ease and escorts you to the middle of the makeshift dance floor, placing his other hand on the small of your back and pulling you close.

“Just follow my lead – like our lessons in the pit.” He smiles, and your heart thuds.

You soon fall into the cautious rhythm – he steps forward, you step back. His eyes flick between yours and behind you, making sure you’re not going to collide into any of the other couples, particularly the enthusiastic Gav. Your face feels hot under Clive’s soft gaze. What is this feeling?

The music comes to an end too soon.

“Thank you, Clive.” You say, softly.

He smiles, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “My lady, the pleasure was mine.”

You stare at one another, perhaps a second too long, when there’s a loud crash – Gav has missed the stool in his eagerness to get back to his pint.

“Who moved my seat?!”

Laughter echo arounds the hall and the moment is lost then, but you remember it with a warm feeling in your stomach, a smile on your face as you drift off to sleep in your bed that day.

And the feeling only grows and grows…

A few months have passed since the turn of the year and life at the Hideaway remains busy – the Fallen relic constantly needs restructuring to accommodate new arrivals of freed Bearers after they had been nursed back to health in the infirmary, before you’d begin to assist them in adjusting to their new found freedom – albeit limited to the confines of the Hideaway - but freedom none-the-less.

Things have been somewhat different lately. Jill and Clive are often out on excursions together and when they are both back within the Hideaway, they have started to secrete themselves away on an evening to his chambers. It’s hard not to feel left out. Dominant business, you’d try to reassure yourself. A Bearer like yourself was nothing like the power an Eikon possessed. Jill doesn’t say what she’s been up to and you don’t pry, but she seems happier recently. Whenever you see her, she gets almost giggly, like she has a secret you’re not privy too.

And now, seeing the two of them sat at the table in the far corner, as if not to be disturbed, conferring closely, the physical contact, it becomes all too clear and it hurts.

“Gil for your thoughts, like?”

You jump at the sound of Gav’s voice and realise he’s stood right in front of you. You hadn’t even noticed him climbing the stairs, so fixated on the moment between Clive and Jill. You readjust the pile of books in your arms - Vivian had asked you to fetch a number of them from the shelves as she poured over the latest correspondences and, wanting to keep occupied, you had agreed.

“Oh.” You force a smile, though your heart is beating a mile a minute. “It’s nothing. I’m tired, I think.”

“That’s no surprise – you seem to be helping everyone at the moment.” He gestures to the books.

“I like to keep busy.”

At that moment, Jill lifts her hand from Clive’s arm and subtly gestures to you, but you keep your eyes focused on Gav. There’s a sweet smile on Clive’s face when he locates you with those kind blue eyes. He nods his head in acknowledgment, beckoning you over with his own hand.

It’s easier to pretend you haven’t seen the invite, that your eyes were fixed elsewhere.

There’s no fun in being a third wheel. You want to be happy for them, but there’s a horrible gnawing in your stomach, a constant lump in your throat. You’re jealous – you know it’s childish, pathetic, selfish behaviour and it hurts because you love Jill, you want her to be happy.

It’s easier to try and keep your distance, you conclude, and head out towards the map room, missing Jill’s puzzled expression and Clive’s crestfallen look.

The next day, they’d been embracing near the stairs to the side of the lift early afternoon – the very lift you needed to get in. Eyes cast down, task in mind, you tried to walk past unnoticed.

“..I don’t know what I’d do without you, Jill.”

The stabbing pain in your chest intensifies as you overhear so you quicken your pace, thinking you’ll get in and hit the lever without notice, but Jill steps in front of you, a warm smile on her face as always.

“There you are. We’ve been looking for you all over.”

“Can’t stop,” the lie comes easy, a false smile plastered on your face in return. “Tarja needs more herbs for the infirmary, so I’m heading to the mainland.”

“Well, allow me to accompany you.” Clive steps forward.

“No need. Cole’s waiting at the dock already for me.” You reply, stepping around Jill and backwards into the lift, slamming the lever with a little more force than strictly necessary.

No-one wants your help today. It’s odd. You’ve been round the Hideaway twice making sure no jobs had popped up since you’d last enquired. Despite everything seeming as busy as usual, everyone reassures you with various iterations of, “All’s in hand, thank you. Why don’t you take the day off?”

Not knowing what to do with yourself, you’d retreated to the solar you shared with Jill. It’s close quarters, true, but enough for two beds and a small dresser, holding a mirror. When Jill hadn’t been away from the Hideaway, you’d taken to getting up early and retiring late, making sure you could only exchange pleasantries about your days – you worried any prolonged interaction would cause your façade to crack. You love her, you should be happy for her, but you’re worried jealousy might poison your words.

You look in the mirror, your eyes immediately drawn to your Brand scar. Jill is a proper lady – elegant, poised, a Dominant, her cheeks smooth and unmarred. They’re perfect together. Why can’t your heart catch up with your head?

The door opens. Jill walks in, pausing as she places her hands on her hips as if she’s caught you in the act of something.

“Come on, out with it.”

“Out with what?” You feign ignorance.

“You’ve been avoiding me for days.”

“No, I haven’t.” You sit down on the bed, picking at a loose thread on the sheet. You should take it to Hortense. “Just busy. You know how it is.”

“You’ve always been a bad liar.” She chides, sitting down on her own bed. “Please. I’m worried about you.”

“I’m fine.” You smile, trying your best to make sure it reaches your eyes under her scrutinizing gaze. “No need to fuss.”

“You rise early, retire late – you’re burning yourself out.”

“It’s not every day. Besides…” jealousy tinges your tone - your will weakened by heartache and tiredness, “..you’ve been away with Clive so much of late, or in his chambers, you wouldn’t know.”

Jill stares at you for a moment, before her eyes widened in realization. “Clive and I-“

You get to your feet, your eyes burning, you can’t hear it out loud. “I’ve got to go.” And you run as if an Eikon was at your heels.

You’re sat at the edge of the a partially constructed platform towards the back of the Hideaway that was slowly being expanded. They hadn’t got much further than increasing the floorspace, but you dangled your legs off the side, watching the waters lap below and let the tears flow at last.

A wet nose nuzzles at your arm, a soft whine.

“Hello, Torgal.” Your voice thick with tears, you rub his soft ears. He accepts your attentions for a moment before he softly trots away as quick as he came, cementing your pitiful mood.

A few minutes pass before you hear footsteps approach.

“Good boy, Torgal.” Clive praises his faithful wolf and you freeze. You can’t run away this time – the only exit being the waters below.

“Torgal kindly helped me to find your hiding place.”

You rub your face with the heel of your hand but you worry it’s too late, that your voice is going to give you away. “Surely everyone hides in a hideaway.” Your attempt at a light-hearted tone sounds a little too forced through the tightness in your throat.

“True.” Hesitation. “May I?”

“O-of course.” You dig your fingernails into your palm, hoping to gain composure as Clive sits down besides you. There isn’t a lot of space on the ledge you had chosen, his knee knocking into yours as he sits.

“We’ve missed your company of late. I hear you’ve been assisting almost everyone here.”

“Always something to do.” You shrug, keeping your eyes fixed on your boots. “Though no-one seemed to want me today.”

“Ah, that was my doing. I asked them for respite – you’ve been working hard.”

“Oh.” Your heart is hammering at the proximity between the two of you. Can he hear it?

“Have I… offended you in some way?” He sounds nervous.

“Not at all.”

“You seem unable to meet my eyes recently.”

You know you should look at him then, to suggest he’s wrong, but they still sting with tears and you don’t want him to see you like this. You don’t want his pity. You can’t answer.

Clive continues. “You seem to avoid me at all costs. Jill believes so too. She says you’re early to rise and late to bed, constantly on the move.”

“There’s just a lot to do.”

“You do not have to do it all.”

You let out a dry laugh. “Says you.”

Another pause.

“Please...” His voice cracks ever so slightly with his request. “Look at me.”

You wish on Metia for strength – you feel he’d stay here all night if he must – and turn. The tell-tale tears on your cheeks highlighted in the moon’s glow.

He looks crestfallen, his hand twitches in his lap – he wants to brush away the tears. “I’ve upset you.”

You shake your head, averting your gaze again. “You haven’t.”

“What troubles you, then?”

“I…” You swallow. “I want something.”

“Then you shall have it.” Clive states, confidently. “After all, you do so much for the Hideaway and everyone in it. All you need to do is ask.”

“No. I… I want something I cannot have.”

“I don’t know about that. We destroyed a Mothercrystal.”

“No, it isn't like that. I really cannot have this.”

“Tell me - please. I cannot stand to see you this way a moment longer.” He places his hand on yours as he leans in – it can’t be deliberate. “I will do whatever it takes to see you smile again.”

A fresh wave of tears threatens to spill and you turn your head in towards your shoulder. It is only there for a moment when fingers grasp your chin so gently, tilting it back towards him and forcing you to meet those blue eyes once more.

“Please.”

You can’t refuse him any longer. The vortex of emotions inside is too much. Maybe - maybe - if you let it out, you could try and move on than wallow forever more in this hole of self-pity.

“I want you.”

He blinks, his expression unchanged. Your heart is beating too fast, you feel sick, things will never be the same again-

His lips are on yours. Clive Rosfield is kissing you. You’re too stunned to reciprocate for a second, but then you pull back, looking alarmed.

“But Jill…“

“What about Jill?” His tone is one of confusion.

“You’re with Jill.”

“I am not." He looks almost amused. "I care for her, true, but as a sister.”

“But the two of you… I’ve seen you. Secret conversations at all hours and…”

“We were talking about you.” Clive looks embarrassed. “I… I felt unable to express my intentions. Jill was determined to give me encouragement. I’ve been trying to get a moment with you all week.”

Your heart is skipping in a confusing way. “Your intentions?”

“You consume my thoughts when you are in and out of sight. I don’t know how you did it. You have been a constant by my side these last few years and I feel myself yearn more for you every passing day.” He places a hand on your cheek. “I was becoming insufferable away from the Hideaway with my talk of you, or so Jill claims.”

Your face is burning red at his sweet words, his soft touch upon your face, the admiration in his eyes. He leans forward again, his lips pressed against yours gently at first as you fall into a clumsy rhythm – both shy and a little unsure at first.

His teeth nip your bottom lip, coaxing your mouth open so your tongues intertwine. You place your hand on his chest – something you’ve only ever dreamed of – and he wraps you up in his arms, pulling you close, kissing you as if he needs it to live.

Clive pulls back, allowing the two of you to catch your breath, before he smiles at you.

“You don’t need to be in want of me, my darling, for I am already yours.”

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-fi

#ghostdogwrites #clive rosfield x you #clive rosfield x female reader #clive rosfield x reader #clive rosfield fluff #clive rosfield #ff16 x reader #reader requests

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wrightingdungeon · 6 months ago

Text

BG3 companion's reactions to Tav singing a lullaby.

I did it! "Take that depression!" - Lucifer Morningstar, Hazbin Hotel

Fluff ahead, grab the cocco and blankeys

Pre-Story:

After accepting Yenna and Grub into the camp, a little peace settled over the group. Watching the crackling fire late at night, Yenna slowly approached Tav, tugging on their shirt. “I can't sleep… Mummy always sang to me… Can you sing, Tav?” Her dual-colored eyes glistened with tears, and she held Grub close to her body. Tav agreed, carefully scooping up the child into their arms, and began to sing a lullaby their mother used to sing when they were young.

“Close your eyes, my little star, The moon is watching from afar. Dreamland calls, it's time to go, Where gentle breezes softly blow. Hush-a-bye, my sweet delight, Sleepy whispers fill the night. Angels guard you, safe and sound, Love and peace all around. Twinkling stars and lullabies, Dancing in your dreamy skies. Rest your head on pillows soft, In the clouds, you'll float aloft. Hush-a-bye, my sweet delight, Sleepy whispers fill the night. Angels guard you, safe and sound, Love and peace all around. Close your eyes and drift away, To a land where fairies play. Magic dreams will hold you tight, Through the calm and quiet night. Hush-a-bye, my sweet delight, Sleepy whispers fill the night. Angels guard you, safe and sound, Love and peace all around. Nighttime’s here, the day is done, Sleep, my dear, 'til morning sun. In my arms, you're safe to stay, Dreaming dreams till break of day.”

Astarion: Waiting for the camp to sleep before he headed out for a snack, he looked over upon hearing Yenna and Tav talking. Curious about what could have kept the child up so late, he listened closely. When he heard Tav begin to sing, he slinked over, peeking at the pair. Watching the person who had accepted him with open arms, continuing to be caring. It was a foreign feeling for him to be surrounded by kind people, but a change he welcomed with open arms.

Gale: Hearing a sweet lullaby, he placed his book down and headed toward the song, wondering who would be singing this late into the night. He smiled softly when he saw Tav holding Yenna close, protecting her from the fear of the night and lulling her to sleep. He waved his hand and whispered a few words; dancing lights in the form of little purple fireflies began to swirl around the pair, adding to the calm.

Halsin: Lying out and gazing at the stars, connecting the constellations and relaxing for the night, his ears perked up upon hearing a lullaby floating through the camp. Getting up, he followed it, humming along to the tune. Seeing their fearless leader holding Yenna as if she were a delicate baby made his heart swell with admiration. He admired how Tav could face so much, yet still find the time to drop their walls and show vulnerability.

Karlach: She was curled up on her bedroll, ready to fall asleep, but soon she heard Tav singing. Getting up, she grabbed Clive and her bedroll and moved closer to the main fire. Laying down and listening to Tav sing with a smile on her face, she felt happy. This was nothing like Avernus; this felt like she was back at home with her mom singing to her. Holding Clive close to her, she let out a large yawn as her eyes slowly grew heavy, lulled to sleep by Tav.

Lae’zel: Meditating for the night, clearing her head preparing for sleep. Her ears perked up hearing a child's song she opened her eyes, wondering what the kainyank *Brat* had done. Getting up she followed the noise finding Tav holding a sleeping Yenna. She listened to the Lullaby intently having never heard one, the Varsh *Gith babysitter essentially* had never sung.

Minthara: Staying up to help watch, her ears perked upon hearing Yenna talking to Tav. Silently watching as Tav pulled her into their body and began rocking her, singing to her. She had heard lullabies, but Menzoberranzan lullabies held songs of spiders, the dark, and the occasional murder. Hearing a lullaby from the surface, it was far from her childhood songs.

Shadowheart: Preparing for bed, she said her prayers and laid down, getting comfortable. She heard the sound of a lullaby gracing her ears. Looking up, she could see Tav and Yenna from her tent. Rolling onto her side and using her arm as a pillow, she quietly watched, somewhat remembering her own mother singing to her once the sun had set.

Wyll: Bringing his chalice to his lips, he sipped on his wine, winding down from the day's work. Smiling at the sound of a child's lullaby dancing through the camp, he hummed along, slightly swaying to the song. It was a nice break from the usual quiet nights they had so often. It reminded him of his nursemaids and how they would sing him to sleep.

Bonus round

Out of canon just cus I said so. *Orin breaking when being told the truth of her birth kinda inspired this, poor baby.*

Orin: Infiltrating the camp was like taking candy from a baby; the cat had caught on, but the rest of the camp was none the wiser. Walking up to Tav, her eyes big, wet, and doe-like, she tugged on Tav’s shirt. “I can't sleep… Mummy always sang to me… Can you sing, Tav?” Orin wanted to see how close Tav would let her. Surprised when Tav picked her up and held her close, she looked up at them before curling into their chest, keeping up the act. Tav was warm, smelled nice, and sang quite well. A yawn escaped Orin's mouth as her eyes fought to stay open. Her dreams were filled with the beautiful screams of the camp; the child's lullaby, soft and sweet, floated through the screams.

#bg3 #bg3 wyll #bg3 gale #bg3 astarion #bg3 halsin #bg3 karlach #bg3 shadowheart #bg3 lae'zel #bg3 minthara #bg3 orin #bg3 fluff #baulders gate tav #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate

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seraphiism · 1 year ago

Text

𓆩 ღ 𓆪 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞

( i wish i could be everything for you. family, home, watchtower, lighthouse. i am sorry for every way i've ever hurt you, including this. )

chara : clive rosfield fandom : final fantasy 16 quote cr : mabel podcast a/n : ngl someone may have forgotten some of the plot in ff16. not me though

── IT WAS ONCE SAID THAT THERE ARE THREE UNIVERSAL TRUTHS IN THIS WORLD :

ONE : GRIEF IS A DEAD MAN WALKING. it will overcome you, destroy you, devour you, drown you beneath the waves of sorrow. IT WILL HURT. it always will. but it is ultimately you who deems your survival. do not forget that.

TWO : YOU WILL KNOW LONELINESS LIKE IT IS YOUR DEEPEST COMPANION. you will find familiarity with the emptiness, and it will turn into nostalgia turned to mourning twisted into an anguish. in the end, you won't know the difference between friend or foe in the coexistence of your own solitude.

THREE : THE WEIGHT OF THE WORLD IS A TERRIBLY HEAVY THING, DEAREST. make sure you do not carry it alone.

it is almost amusing, you think, gaze boring into the dying embers before you, how convenient it is to forget said truths. how it slips from the mind in the most foolish of times when the truth is spoken to you ; how obnoxiously it echoes into memory when you speak of it to someone as means of lessons learned.

the truth is a very miserable thing sometimes, this sobering reminder of humanity, but it is also something so excruciatingly tender.

you shiver. the air is cold and unwelcoming. the embers burn bright, then nearly fade into nothingness : a distant flux and flow, the reignition of something that wants to survive.

what a profound sight it is, clive thinks, almost breathless at your beauty beneath the moonlight, it is a mere glimpse to the serenity that settles in the depths of your heart, almost forgotten, and in the weariness of your features, it serves as something hopeful. you must be searching for a shooting star ; you always are, and maybe he's searching for one tonight, too. how lucky you would both be if granted a wish fulfilled. perhaps it would spare you from the pain to come on this endless journey, this path to redemption and salvation.

he looks to the sky, too, hopes to remember this moment for a long while, this time in which you find repose beneath the stars.

it is not long before you feel him shift beside you, his hands gentle as he drapes his cloak over your shoulders. you do not say anything, but you smile in silent thanks, and he wonders how he can do this. how he can say this. the destruction of oneself is much easier than the destruction of another. he returns the smile, but it does not reach his eyes, and you know that something is wrong.

he averts his gaze, focuses on the fire. dying, dying, dead. fire is such a horrific being, he has learned, and what a tragic way he has discovered it so. how it burns and burns, consuming everything in its path. it is ruthless in nature-- a terror that seizes anything it can, burning it into damnation and ruin until there is nothing but ashes meant to be forgotten.

such fire runs in his blood, and with it, a quiet violence. he does not know why, doesn't know how, and he begs the question to the divine a thousand times over. there is no answer. there never is, never will be. the only thing he knows is that there is blood on his hands, and he cannot afford to shed yours. he will not.

even if it means going your separate ways, even if he means breaking your heart, even if it means carrying out an act of betrayal to the trust that has bound you to each other.

"i..." he cannot even bring himself to speak. what a coward he is. "there is something i wish to discuss with you."

you still look to the sky. the subtle curve of your lips does not falter, even with the words he does not expect to hear.

"you plan to leave, don't you?" you wonder if there is a shooting star somewhere out there, wonder if it will be kind enough to visit in times of despair. "you think this is all your fault, that you were the one who killed what you thought to be most precious."

the smile has faded. your gaze shifts to the ashes, then to him, seeing that heartache in those blue eyes. something feels like it's tightening around your throat. you suspect it is grief. you speak again, anyway.

"you think... that your existence should be void, that you should be punished for what you believe you did. that if you stay-- if you stay here, if you stay with me, then it'll happen all over again."

he does not speak for a long while. what can you even say to that? how can he tell you that you're right, that he's afraid he could hurt you to the point of no return and not know it? that he's going to leave you because he loves you?

you turn towards him, your hands reaching for his. your hold is tender, careful, but he feels the way you tremble ever so slightly. it is his fault.

"the things i've done back then--" he pauses, uncertainty in his eyes, a grief of some sort, "i didn't know it was me. i thought i had been chasing after the one responsible for my pain, but i've been chasing a ghost all along." his hands squeeze yours, and maybe they're shaking, too. "i failed my duty. there's only one path that lies ahead of me, and that is one where you are safe."

he doesn't know what to expect-- your anger, your fury. that's what he almost wants, because it is much easier to end things that way. but he doesn't expect your expression to soften, doesn't expect to feel the way your hand cups his cheek, thumb tracing over his scar. he is already on the verge of break, but this may be the one thing that pushes him over the edge, and a sorrowful smile finds its way to your lips at the tears that threaten to trail down his face.

"you don't want to go, clive." your voice is barely above a whisper, quiet, almost forgotten in the wind.

no, he doesn't. he doesn't want to leave, doesn't want to leave you, doesn't want to lose you. he wants to stay. he wants to think that there's hope somewhere, but the truth of it all is that there's just not.

"no, i don't." he places his hand over yours, instinctively leans into your touch. "i don't."

"so stay. stay with me. i know you are in despair. i know. but the truth runs deeper than any of us suspect. you can't give up, not yet." this time, your voice almost breaks. you lean forward, your forehead pressed against his. you are afraid to speak. "we are not meant for solitude, you know. the path you take is the only one i know. i will not leave you, clive. not now, not ever."

he doesn't--

he feels his heart waver, feels like his thoughts are a mess, mind a haze in the midst of mourning. he cannot help but close his eyes at your words, at your warmth. he doesn't know if he can believe you, not yet. to grant himself forgiveness is an act of selfishness, and it is not one that is deserved. not now, maybe not ever.

"you've always bested me, haven't you?" even now, he's unsure of what to say, what to do. you've always been right, always known the best course of action. even in the darkest nights of ruin, you've always managed to find the light. for that, he is grateful. "...you have my heart, always. thank you."

you smile, but this time, it is a quiet sadness, yet almost hopeful. your lips meet his-- brief, but more than enough.

the journey ahead is a long one. it will be difficult. it will be harsh, cruel, and it will push both of you to the point of break. but so long as you have each other, you will make it.

"of course." you answer, and you kiss him once more. "you have my heart, too. our paths will always be intertwined, clive."

he laces his fingers with yours, lips ghosting against the back of your hand in an act of reverence.

"yes," he murmurs, and maybe there is something holy in the way he speaks to you, looks at you, "always."

#final fantasy x reader #clive rosfield x reader #clive x reader #final fantasy 16 x reader #my brain while i wrote this . she was gone. evaporated into thin air #.: writing

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