#final fantasy angst

[angelltheninth]

Cloud Strife Promises to Take Less Risks

Pairing: Cloud Strife x Reader

Tags: angst, reunion, mention of scars and injuries, saving the world, selfishness, Reader loves Cloud more than they care about the world

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters

A/N: This is one of those grab him and never let go characters for me.

Every time he comes back from a quest he has a new set of scars and bruises

Perhaps even a broken bone or two

Needs to take it easy, refuses to because the world needs him, it's his job and duty

Relaxes the moment he sees you, and you do too, he's home, he's safe now

You want to keep him home for as long as you can

Selfish but you can't help it, it's your boyfriend or the world, and you know the world should come first but for you Cloud's life will always be more important

For as long as he's been gone you've been on edge, anxious for his safety and well being

He knows it causes you stress which he tries to make you feel better

Nothing he will say will make you stop worrying about him

Cloud knows it too, believe him, he worries about you too if you're not on a quest with him, he wants to come home and see you and kiss you again

He can't tell you he won't leave again, that would be a huge lie

But he can tell you he will be more careful, that you will have fewer new scars to get familiar with

[c0smoshit]

Do you want me or do you not?

⋆ ࣪. ℙ𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 ≫ Cloud Strife/Reader

⋆ ࣪. ℙ𝕝𝕠𝕥 ≫ Cloud saw a letter with his name written on it, inside your diary

⋆ ࣪. 𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 ≫ angst!, reader not being present, guilt, not proofread!!

⋆ ࣪. 𝔸/ℕ ≫ I'm back again!! I don't like this drabble really much but I've spent sm time writing it that I thought I'd post it lol. Sorry if it's a bit shitty 🤧

⋆ ࣪. 𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥 ≫ 1718

"Do you want me or do you not?"

His hands held the once hated paper as if it was worth millions of gils.

Cold fairies travelled up his spine, reminding him of the future he will never have with you.

A part of him was still attached to the past, a great part. That was his way to cope with everything that had happened in his life, swimming in a deep, deep pool of sorrow and unreached dreams.

Maybe he shouldn't have taken that path a long time ago.

Maybe he shouldn't have fallen deeply from your silk hands, following people he knew didn't speak to him like you did.

Or maybe his destiny was to end up like this, alone again.

His steps were curiously more careful, his inner voice telling him ( shouting at him ) that he should've been more careful.

But who could really blame him?

. . .

"Hey there"

Sometimes you would greet him with a smile, which he didn't return. Or some whispered out "hi", but this wasn't your usual greeting.

Your arms enveloped him for an instant, your cheek against his chest as you pressed further into him.

He could smell you and he liked it, he always liked clean ambiences. Something weird as he constantly had to smell Midgar's dirty air, but he didn't mind smelling sweet, fruity shampoos.

You parted from him as his hands stayed still against his sides, afraid of moving them too much.

As soon as he sat on a stool in the bar, you had a drink already waiting for him.

And he hated it.

He knew that he was being such a dick, but his mind couldn't help but feel somewhat uncomfortable by your warm and so pleasant touches.

He wanted to be happy just for once, god you were giving him his favourite drink!

But weighs and weighs of stress and unsolved problems occupied more volume than his own welfare.

"Do you not like it?"

His gaze then looked at your confused eyes.

"I'm sorry I thought you did, I can always ch-"

"It's alright"

That's it?

You got nothing more to say than that?

His eyes looked at your ... he wasn't going to lie, he really did not know how to read the emotions you had hiding between those gorgerous orbs.

And he wished he did

So as your hands quickly retrieved themselves from changing the liquid, you were back to the chores Tifa probably told you to please do.

He wanted to go, not because you were there but because he was suddenly so nervous he needed "fresh" air.

So that's what he did, not before muttering a low "thanks" and wishing you a good night before stepping outside the bar once again.

He surely didn't want to go home, he didn't want the sun to come up, but on top of all of those wishes, he didn't know what he wanted to truly do.

So his feet, followed by a loud metallic "clank!" that quieted down the louder rumble of the city, dragged him through alleys.

His eyes looked everywhere, dimly lighted appartaments, people that were still returning home from work.

Would they visit their kids?

Their cats? Dogs?

Their partnerts?

He wouldn't wish anyone to be him.

And he ceirtanly day-dreamed about becoming some stranger on the streets.

He often recieved comments from some boys about how handsome he was, that he surely had a long pile of women on his palm.

But was it really worth it?

He didn't need women to love him, he didn't need nobody to love him.

Nobody but someone to hold at night, someone to lull him back to sleep after a rough night.

( he needed you )

. . .

And yet he was here, waiting for you to walk back into your room as he stared into the blank wall.

He remembers the day he moved in next door to you in Midgar, both of your rooms were so different you made him self-concious about his own decisions of decoration.

The way you would lit up the darkness of his empty room the moment you placed your feet inside of it.

But now they all remained just as memories

Memories that soon would dissapear into the void of his enigmatic mind.

He knew there was going to be a time that his brain, naturally, would forget how your face looked like.

How your voice sounded like.

The warmth of your shy touches against his skin.

And he didn't want that time to come, not ever.

But he was far, far away from where it all had started. The nostalgia of your steps as you guided him through Midgar, Nibelheim ( although he knew it like the back of his hand ) Gold saucer. . .

And finally, your room

Which was the place he was standing on right now, trying to read a note you wrote who knows when.

He knows he shouldn't be doing this, rumaging through your personal belongings. But once he had opened your diary and saw his name written on it, he had to take a look.

. . .

" He feels like a ray of sun after a storm, warm and welcoming you back to the sweet and beautiful world you once knew "

" Today I walked with him all through sector 5, he was so cute waiting for me while I asked him which clothes he liked most "

" I don't want to lose him ever again, not after what happened today "

" Maybe he likes Aerith, I see the way his eyes linger on her smile for quite a while "

" Maybe I'm being annoying but I don't get why he doesn't want me to take him home! We live right next to eachother >:( "

" Yesterday I laughed a lot when Tifa called him an angry chocobo, he sure looks like one of those big birds "

" I wonder what he thinks of me. .

. . .

And then he saw it, a ruffled up small paper smashed against the last two pages of the little book. But when he grabbed it, he wished he didn't.

At first he found it quite hard to read as he got used to how you would normally write, but it was clear that you were upset in this one.

There were also some harsh drawn lines on top of your words, a mess of your thoughts and anger. All of the slurred out words came to the same conclusion.

Did he want you or did he not?!?

It is all so confusing, first he speaks to me kindly, he even cracks a few jokes! But then he comes back to this... cold and closed personality. Maybe I'm being dumb about this, maybe he just sees me as a friend just like he would with Barret or Tifa. Well, Tifa... Why am I being jealous of her? I don't want to feel like this, she has all the rights to be close to him. Hell, she was her bestfriend ever since they were little kids. But then again, why does he speak to me like he isn't interested in me??

Why does he talk to me like that if so?

He turned his eyes out of those last words, now understanding why you acted like that whenever he was around you.

Why you were gone now.

The first feeling that flooded his entire organism was guilt, that familiar clench inside his lower stomach. Then he went over 10 different ways he could have had you with him right now.

And they all ended up talking

Just that simple, right?

But the way his mind would automatically go blank whenever you spoke to him about something serious, the innability to express his real feelings without letting out lies instead.

And to add up to how deeply dumb he felt, it was a surprise for him to have just discovered that you actually felt the same for him ever since.

. . .

Going inside a cave wasn't really a good idea thanks to all the cons it has, confusing as a maze, bad lighting and of course, how cold they usually are.

So he wasn't really surprised that after the group had divided itself, you all ended up kind of lost. Next to Barret, he tried to stay calm as he tried to search Tifa, Red and, of course, you.

"Where the hell are we?"

Barret's loud voice echoed through the hard walls, making Cloud flinch as he tried to guide themselves into the exit.

After walking for quite a while, he found a strange section inside the cave that was way colder than the other ones. And when he was about to step into the other section next to it, he heard you.

But he didn't hear the chatting he had thought he would have listened, instead he heard a loud gasp, followed by some shoes ruffling.

And by the time his eyes were searching for you, he looked up to see you almost crushing him down into the ground. But of course, he was fast enough to catch you.

A blur of voices surrounded his mind, but the only thing that it was paying attetion to was the way your cool body fit in between his arms.

Your arms curled up against his chest as your mouth moved, probably surprised to had fallen into his arms instead of hard rocks.

. . .

He never will forget how you felt on his arms.

Reminiscing about past events had became his usual routine whenever he thought about you, he couldn't do anything more either way.

But it was pointless now, no matter how hard he tried to imagine yourself again, you weren't there.

And it was now when he finally had figured out why his words seemed not to seep out of his mouth as smoothly as usual with you.

Right after the group had started to live normal lifes again after the meteor, you were gone, far away from his reach. Or maybe you were right beside him, who knows.

He often wondered if you still dreamt about what happened in Midgar, Nibelheim, Junon...

He needed to find you.

But where shall he start?

[pinkkittysaw]

I AM AFRAID NOT OF LEAVING, BUT BEING FORGOTTEN

*the title is part of a quote from the book Little Devil in America: Notes in Praise of Black Performance by Hanif Abdurraqib

pairing: clive rosfield x f!reader

summary: unable to deal with your bouts of insecurity, you try to call it quits on your relationship with clive

word count: 3.5k

content: hurt/comfort, established relationship, self flagellation (talks of insecurity and self doubt/deprecation), unhealthy coping mechanisms, allusions to anxiety, extremely self indulgent

(18+) this piece is sfw but am uncomfortable with minors interacting with my work

a/n: dealing with a lot of anxiety and thoughts of worthlessness/hopelessness so i created this in hopes of alleviating some of those feelings 👍

also if you’re interested, i listened to Need 2 by Pinegrove while writing this. figured it’d help set the mood while reading

divider by @/saradika

"You're still sleeping in the bunks? Clive returned yesterday, you know." Jill teases as she sits on the edge of the bed you've chosen to occupy for the past few nights. It wasn't unusual for you to reside in the bunks whenever Clive was away on an assignment; the big bed that occupies his chambers being too spacious to bear during nights spent alone.

What was unusual, however, was that you continued to spend your evenings there after he had already returned. Having once been so eager to jump into his sturdy arms after catching wind of his arrival back at the hideaway. You were often caught running down to the pier once the ferryboat came into view, excitedly waiting for him at the dock while waving your arms like a madwoman. When Jill heard from Clive that the two of you hadn't spoken since before he left, she immediately knew something was amiss.

"I'm aware," you grumble into the pillow that you're currently holding over your face.

"Did something happen between you two?" She probes, a frown forming on her features as she scoots closer to you. "Did he hurt you? Because I swear to Founder if he-"

"No, no, no, it's nothing like that," you interrupt, removing the pillow. "He's lovely. I just..." Hesitation creeps into your voice as your words trail off. To be honest, you're not quite sure how to describe what you're experiencing at the moment. "I'm feeling...unwell." Though it's not a physical illness that ails you, you hope that your response is satisfactory enough for her to leave the conversation be.

"Have you come down with something? I can help you to the infirmary if you need."

"It's nothing that serious. I'll be alright." You give her a half-hearted smile in an attempt to reassure her. She eventually yields, though still not convinced of your words.

With a shake of her head and a heavy sigh, she rises to stand. "He'll come looking for you sooner or later." Padding across the room from your bunk to the entrance, she looks back at you before making her exit. "You can't avoid him forever."

You scoff when she's just out of earshot. Like hell you can't, you think to yourself. Wearing your self-isolation on your sleeve like a badge of honor. Whenever you wanted to disappear from people's lives, you did, regardless of how much it hurt. This time was no different.

The truth of the matter is that you were avoiding Clive; the reasons for doing so were nobody's fault but your own.

In your eyes, you were so much weaker than he, often thinking you were undeserving of a man of his caliber. He harnesses the strength to take on entire eikons, whereas you peril in comparison, so after ruminating on your feelings of worthlessness one night, you decided to call it quits, figuring that it was for the best and choosing to avoid him so you didn't have to confront your own inadequacy. Perhaps it wasn't the healthiest choice, but it was the one you decided to go with.

The next few days are spent taking on as many assignments as you can, with the hope of eluding Clive. The majority of his time was spent away from the hideout, but you could never be too careful.

Rushing over to check the alliant reports at first light and carrying on well throughout the day. From dawn til dusk, you worked yourself to the bone only to collapse in your bunk at the end of the day, dead to the world, rising early from your slumber to repeat it all again the next day. 

Apparently, Clive caught on to your little scheme because, after one late afternoon, someone stood waiting for you at the pier upon your return to the hideaway.

After thanking Obolus, you make your way over to the fellow bearer to inquire about what's going on. "Clive's looking to speak with you in his chambers; he said it was urgent," she states.

"It can't wait?"

"He seemed rather insistent; best not keep him waiting."

"Of course, thank you for letting me know." You smile at her before making your way over to his chambers, grumbling to yourself. You climb the steps to his room with a pout on your face, not looking forward to the conversation awaiting you on the other side of the door.

After taking a moment to collect yourself, you extend your arm to gently knock on the door. "Come in." His voice calls out from inside the room.

You push apart the two slabs of wood separating his chambers from the main deck and step inside. He's sitting at his desk to your left, quill in hand, stripped down to just his tunic and trousers, his leathers and armor removed, while his sword rests against the wall. Fuck, you think to yourself. He must be set on staying a while. There's no escaping him this time.

You make quick work to occupy yourself with the objects scattered around the room as you move to stand in front of his desk. You're surprised to see a pile of your forgotten clothing neatly folded on the couch that sits against the opposing wall, as well as the various knickknacks you've added to his desk during your time together. Albeit an overreaction, you half expected your things to be tossed into the lake's abyss with how you were acting. 

"Ah," he says as he looks up from his writing, setting down the quill. "There you are. I hope you don't mind, but I took the liberty of having your clothes washed, should you want them back."

"But if not, I could always make space for them here."

Your eyes meet his as the statement leaves his mouth. It's an invitation, an olive branch extended to you in hopes of making peace. The implication of his words, the domesticity of it all, leaving bits and pieces of each other in one another's lives, even after all that you've done to push him out of yours, leaves a bitter aftertaste in your mouth, making you realize just how truly undeserving of his love you really are.  

A mumbled "Thank you" is all you can offer him in response.

"It's no problem." He stands up from his seat; both his hands lay flat on the desk below as he peers down at you. "I've heard you've been making yourself quite scarce lately."

"Your undertaking of assignments has increased significantly. It's almost as if...you've been avoiding me." He states it like a question, trying to gauge your reaction and see if you'll give him something he can latch on to.

"That's not true," you scoff. It is true, and you both damn well know it, but you keep up the facade anyway.

He exhales the breath he was holding, easing up on the interrogation. "I admit, I've been spending more time away from the hideout, but you can't seriously expect me to believe that your behavior lately is normal."

"I haven't seen as much as a glimpse of you since before I left."

Frustration grows in your belly; you're tired of running, tired of hiding, and tired of pretending. "I can't do this anymore, Clive."

"Can't do what?"

"This. Us."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm just not good enough for you... or anyone."

"I shouldn't even be here. I'm not strong enough to fight alongside the cursebreakers," you gesture into the open air. "I lack the wit to come up with strategies to help take down the Mothercrystals, and I've got as much charm as a bloody morbol."

"I've read the missives from the past few days, all of which praise you for your tact, your kindness, dedication, and care. Just because you're not on the frontlines doesn't mean you're not making an impact."

"What good is any of it?" You raise your voice. "What good is helping with crops, fetching supplies, and slaying meager monsters if it's the next day that our people are led to slaughter?"

"The imperials tighten their grip across the realm with each passing moon, and what I do in the grand scheme of things is the equivalent of sitting on my arse twiddling my thumbs. I'm about as useful as a corpse."

"ENOUGH." His voice boomed and bellowed, loud enough that people down on the main deck probably turned their heads at the sound. "Sit," he commands, pointing to the couch across the room, and you dare not disobey.

Embarrassed that you've stirred up such a fuss, you sit yourself down on the piece of furniture and hang your head low, preparing for a scolding. Not that it wouldn't be deserved; Clive has enough to worry about with the Mothercrystals and bearers, now having to also quell the insecurities that linger in your heart.

Just suck it up and do better is what you've always been told, but try and try and try as you might, you can never seem to get there. You're never enough. Can your strengths even be called strengths if there's so many out there who can do everything you do but better?

You don't bother raising your head to him as he paces back and forth, not wanting him to see another weakness of yours in the form of your tears. He gives a heavy sigh as he collects his thoughts, pinching his nosebridge while searching for the right words. "I apologize for raising my voice, but I simply cannot bear how critical you are of yourself, especially when I know for a fact that your fears are unfounded."

He marches up to where you sit on the couch, caressing your cheek and nudging your face in his direction. You can't bring yourself to meet his icy blues, knowing your heart would burst at the seams under his gaze or the kind smile that he reserves just for you. You don't deserve it, not with the way you've acted, so instead you turn your head in the opposite direction, refusing to indulge in his affections. His grip is a tad more firm as he attempts to move your face once more. You don't have the strength to resist his pull, so you let him maneuver your jaw to face him.

Tears begin to flow down your cheeks, and your lower lip wobbles as you attempt to hold in your sobs. His eyes widen as he sees the state that you're in, and with a gentle finger, he lifts your chin up.

"Will you look at me, please?" His voice isn't as strong as it once was moments before. There's a small break in his tone, almost as if he's pleading with you. Feeling exhausted now, you lift your eyes to meet his. They're not filled with anger or disappointment, but with concern, and more tears pool in your waterline as you scan his face.

"Oh, sweetheart," he whispers, bringing his thumbs to wipe away the tears spilling from your eyes before sitting down beside you. He surveys your sullen expression before pulling you into a hug. His warmth surrounds you in his embrace, and a part of you hates how secure it makes you feel.

Always relying on others to get by, you'd be dead without him, and you know it. You're a hopeless, bumbling mess trying to find your way through a dark maze.

You cry more into his shoulder, soaking through his tunic with your tears, despite your best efforts to remain unfeeling and stoic. It's all too much all at once, and his comfort only agitates the ache deep within your heart.

"Let it all out; I'm right here."

"You're safe," he murmurs in your ear, stroking a comforting hand up and down your back.

"I don't deserve you, Clive."

"You don't deserve to see me like this," you manage to choke out between sobs. The force of your crying is so violent against him that you start hiccupping and gasping for air.

He doesn't respond to your claims, not yet anyway, knowing that doing so would only rile you up more—choosing to hold you instead, rocking you slightly from side to side. He waits for you to calm down before addressing you, and you don't attempt to speak again, your shortness of breath not allowing for any more words to be uttered. You allow yourself to rest in his arms like you've done many times before, and after a short while, your wails are reduced to nothing but sniffles.

Once you've become a bit more settled, he pulls away from the embrace only to fetch a hankerchief, giving you a few minutes to collect yourself. He sits back down with you, his free hand grasping yours firmly, grounding you. The weight of his fingers interlocked with yours serves as a reminder that he's here; he's with you.

"I apologize for the outburst," you say, wiping your face down with the cloth before shifting your attention to him once more.

"No need for apologies, my love. I'd much rather you cry in my arms than continue to bottle this feeling inside you and let it fester."

You look away from him, turning toward the gaps in the wall of his chambers where the sunlight peaks through. You stare out at the lake below, watching as the black water laps at the walls of the hideaway.

Your voice takes on a somber tone when you speak next. "You deserve someone better than me, Clive, someone stronger." The air surrounding you two is still but its weight is all too heavy.

"Don't be ridiculous," he chides, his body turning to face you as he throws an arm over the backrest of the couch.

"If only I was." You let your words drift off into the ether before speaking again. "You deserve someone who can bear the weight of her own burdens, who's strong enough to not fall apart at every small inconvenience, someone who doesn't need to run into the comfort of your arms like a petulant child. I'm not worth everything you do for me—the kindness, the generosity, the love—none of it."

He scoots closer to you, bringing a hand to grasp at your hip, his thumb stroking it back and forth. "Is that not my right as your lover? To see you at your weakest and most vulnerable and still love you anyway?"

"I'm nothing, Clive. It's been that way since the day I was born. I'm not worth trying to save, just deadweight that needs to be tossed overboard."

"You think I'm a sinking ship, then? that I can't ‘handle’ you?" He gestures in the air.

"I can barely handle myself. Let's just end this before it's too late."

"Don't I have a say in the matter? You're making all these decisions about us without so much as a forethought for how I feel."

"It's better this way."

"Better for who? The self-destructive thoughts in your head? Because it's certainly not better for me and I'd go as far to say that it's not what you really want either. So pray tell, what's the real issue here?Where is all this stemming from?"

You shoot a glare his way—a defensive one, but still a glare nonetheless.

He reaches out to cup your face, his thumb stroking your cheek. It feels like no matter what you do, it's always wrong. Here you were acting like a brat to the man you loved, and here he was, being patient with you like a saint.

You relent, letting him have a peek into the inner world that you've kept a secret all this time. "There's a horrible weight in my chest carried with me wherever I go, wrapped up tight in my gut like a ball of twine, and no matter what I do, it comes back. I can't shake it. I can't shake anything. I'm still here, a mess of fear and nerves."

"I'm angry, vengeful, and mean, but at the same time, I'm scared of everything, timid and fragile as a mouse. If weakness were a person, it'd be me. Sometimes it's a miracle that i'm even able to do the things I do. I rely on you too much, and it scares me."

"You're anything but weak, my love. In fact, I think being vulnerable and open like this takes immense strength." He continues to caress your face.

"I'm not strong enough to fight alongside you. I'm useless when it comes to taking down the Mothercrystals."

He chuckles. "If physical strength was all I cared about, I would have taken a brute as my lover."

"Clive…" You roll your eyes in a playful manner, appreciating his attempt at lifting your mood.

The sun is setting now, and his chambers are tinted with a pale orange-yellow hue. The light reflects off the water, and you gaze upon the lake below while his gaze lingers on you.

"Come," he states, extending a hand as he stands up from the couch. You take his hand in yours as he leads you over to the gap in the wall, both admiring the sunset together. It's a beautiful evening; the clouds are painted pink and orange as the sun dips below the horizon.

"I'm serious, you know," he nudges your shoulder. The beginnings of a smile paint your features—a smile that he takes as a small win.

"Clive, I-" He presses a finger to your lips, silencing you. "Just listen, please," you nod, and he turns, facing the scenic view again, the sunlight bouncing off the yellow tones of his skin. "Do you remember traveling to the Apodetry all those years back? When I couldn't grapple with the fact that I was Ifrit and very well may have killed my own brother?"

You don't say anything, but you nod, and then he continues. "I'm not sure if I ever would have come to terms with it if you weren't by my side." He lets out a small sigh. "You say that you can't handle your own burdens, that I deserve someone stronger, but the truth is, without you, I might never have been able to bear my own. I'm not sure if I'd be the man I am today if I didn't have you, so don't you dare imply that I'd somehow be better off without you."

"You're right when you said I don't need you. It is not a matter of need or deserving, my love, but a matter of want. I want you. I desire you so wholeheartedly."

"I know that I alone am not enough to quell these thoughtsof yours, especially after the life you've lived-" he turns to face you again, his thumb grazing the leftover scar on your cheek from the removal of your brand, "-but please believe me when I say that you do matter, and not just to me, but to everyone here, to every person you've helped, to every soul you've graced with your kindness. Would you say those who work in the backgarden are unworthy of being here, simply because they don't wield a blade and march in the frontlines?"

"No," you pout.

He smiles. "Then I implore you to extend that same kindness to yourself." He steps closer, moving to nuzzle your nose with his. "Though you're not taking down Mothercrystals, you're showing people that there's still hope—that kindness can still exist in a world where harsh cruelties befall those who never deserve it."

"A twinkling light is left with everyone you help, no matter how minuscule it seems."

"We chose this undertaking so that dominants and bearers alike could live the lives they choose. If a life of peace is what you want, then it's one that you shall have. You shouldn't be fighting each and every day just so you can make it to the next."

Both of your foreheads press together as he continues to speak. "You don't need to throw yourself to the wolves. You're done with having to earn through suffering. You're done having to prove your worth. You don't have to earn your right to exist and be happy, not with me or anyone else here."

He presses his lips against yours. "I love you," he whispers in between the kiss. "Your vulnerabilities, your fears... They are not shortcomings, my love. They are what make you who you are, and though I wish I could make your pain a bit more tolerable, I wouldn't change a single thing about you, ever."

He presses more kisses on your lips, sweet, loving, and gentle. "You are my strength, my everything. I love you so much."

Bathed in the dying light of the sun, you hold each other tender with a slow brushing of lips against each other, and though such demons of the mind aren't so easily bested, you're given a moment's solace in the warm embrace of your lover, knowing that no matter what ails you, you'll face it together.

"I love you too, Clive."

[sheikfangirl]

"I found you."

After decades of regret and longing, Adult timeline Zelda broke the Ocarina of Time against the Master Sword to open a fissure in time and space and sneak in-between realities.

She found who she was looking for and they are stuck between realities, suspended in time. Forever. Together.

----

Note: I got no credit for the shots. It's another shameless Final Fantasy VIII redraw, i still had last week's vibe. My post OoT/TP happen to legit have Time Compression sequence imagery and I couldnt resist.

I also needed a break from my comic. Cleaning it takes way more time than anticipating. It will be done when it will be done i guess.

Have a great day, fellow Angst fans!

[yingxtkm]

Super rough scribble I did at 3am yesterday, not sure if I’ll clean it but I liked the concept (inspired by the OC before and after trauma art bandwagon. But let’s be real, the trauma never ends for Sephiroth)

[meiluu]

omg omg omg I've got an idea!! So... mean and demanding Cloud when he was controlled by Sephiroth?? Like you know how he's usually so nice and soft during that time... well now he's the opposite? I mean only if you're comfortable with it of course

I love this idea and, so here's a little something that came to mind after reading this...

CW: SMUT 18+, a bit dark, Angst, Cloud isn't fully there and his actions are being influenced by Sephiroth. smut below the cut. *NOT EDITED*

Cloud your sweet boyfriend, who could be a bit icy on the outside but when he's with you that icy nature melts and underneath that layer is a young man who craves your love like he needs air. Wholly devoted to you, his heart handed to you for safe keeping forevermore.

But with the threat of the planet and the loaming shadow of sephiroth, cloud has been...different to say the least. Quick to give into his anger and frustration, especially on the battlefield. Acting strangely towards some of the other members in your merry little group. You had thought that maybe it would lessen over time, but it only seem to do the opposite. But even with all of this you made it clear to cloud that you were there for him, yet he seemed to brush you off nodding absentmindedly.

It hurt you to say the least, but you held strong and continued to remain by his side. And your efforts seemed to be paying off, slowly cloud had begun to seek you out after battles and when he needed your comforting.

Although this time seemed different from others, his mako infused eyes held an emotion that had your hair standing up on end.

A muffled cry of pleasure leaves you as Cloud continues his near brutal thrusts. On your knees with your head partially buried into your pillow, you can feel Clouds strong and unyielding grip on your hips as he ruts into you like he was a starved animal. When he had come to you after another day of fighting monsters as they followed the trial towards Sephiroth, you had expected a typical cuddle session or made some soft sex to come down from the stressful day. Not this.

Its not that you didn't like this, it was just something Cloud had never really done. He always took his time with you, relishing in your shared time together. And even when he did get a bit carried away you could always feel the love with his actions or with his pleasure filled words.

"Cloud- too much I-" your words are hard to get out with your moans breaking them up. Hands gripping into the sheets as you lift your head turning it to the side to see Cloud. Eyes focusing in on his gorgeous face, his eyes are locked onto where his cock is thrusting in and out of your cunt. His eyes rise to meet yours, pupils blown wide at the view in front of him. A smirk crawls onto his face, then he is moving his hands from your hips to beside yours that are still gripping onto the sheets. "You can take it, you were made for this- For me." His near patronizing words are barely registered with the new angle he has you in. Cock going so deep hitting the spots within you that had the breath leaving your lungs in a moaned cry. One calloused hand of Cloud clasps onto one of yours while the other goes underneath your chin. Acting as a makeshift collar, turning your head towards his. Mako gazing piercing yours.

"You're mine, this-" a thrust accentuates his words cock bullying itself deeper into your orgasming cunt, "is only for me. So perfect just for me."

[caprart1]

Don't you hate it when your artist doesn't want to draw your other eye so they smash your face

[altocat]

💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

[icycoldninja]

Don't leave me (Sephiroth x Reader angst)

Summary: Sephiroth's abandonment issues get the better of him in the middle of the night, so he goes to you, seeking comfort.

---‐------------------------------------------------------------‐--------------Sleep was never easy for Sephiroth thanks to the shadows, voices, and eerie bits of music that often plagued his thoughts. His mind, when allowed to wander, was often like a bitter, wintery blizzard, with everything swirling around in one, massive, confusing, mental storm. In order to keep the storm from growing too large, Sephiroth often kept busy throughout the day, focusing his mind on productive, stimulating activities such as exercising, scheming in his office, or tracking down Cloud and his accomplices.

However, at nighttime, when his brain was exhausted and craved sleep, such activities were very difficult to complete, therefore, he turned to more ordinary practices of keeping his mind occupied, which, unsurprisingly, did not work. Math problems were easy for him, as were crossword puzzles, spot the difference games, hidden object puzzles, etc. Sephiroth could work through an entire high-school math textbook in under 2 hours and say it was "child's play". This level of genius was purely astonishing, and also maddening, as his troubled thoughts, of which there were plenty, were also very disruptive.

Sighing, the man rolled over in his bed and draped his heavy, fluffy wing over his face like most humans would with a pillow. Why couldn't he sleep?! What would it take for his goddamn brain to shut off and let him rest already?! He was so tired, he could feel his eyeballs ache, but he just couldn't rest. Why?

The swirling storm in Sephiroth's head raged on; he closed his eyes and gripped his pillow tightly, trying desperately to remember what falling asleep felt like so he could ascertain whether or not he was making progress.

Several more minutes passed, and Sephiroth felt his brain fog over. He relaxed completely, willing his consciousness to slip into darkness and finally, finally, allow him to rest. He expected to plunge into fuzzy nothingness, but was instead met with a cold, dark, empty void.

All around him, he could hear laughter. Deranged laughter; laughter he'd heard almost all day of every day during his childhood. How he hated that laugh. Sephiroth turned around, only to find that same man standing before him in the familiar, pristine lab coat that he knew so well.

Hojo.

He was glad he couldn't speak; to utter his name aloud would have stained and corrupted his tongue. He glared at the man with contempt, wishing he would just leave already. He'd seen enough of that cruel bastard, he didn't need to see any more. Hojo smiled at him, his thin lips twisting into a devious smirk. Looking at it made Sephiroth's blood boil. Where was Masamune? Now would be a perfect time to use it.

Hojo's smile slowly faded, his expression turning from evil glee to disgust. He was regarding Sephiroth with disgust. How dare he?! Sephiroth watched as he turned around and walked away, shaking his head. Good riddance, he thought. He never wanted to look at scum like Hojo anyway. Turning around once again, Sephiroth came face to face with a being he never expected to see in a place like this. His own, beloved mother: Jenova.

Now Sephiroth was beginning to wish he could speak. He wanted to tell his mother how glad he was to see her here, how much he loved her, how thankful he was to her for his mere existence. He tried to reach out to touch her, but she recoiled, frowning in repulsion. What was wrong? What did he do to make her feel this way? Sephiroth was at a complete loss; all he ever did was for his mother, so why wasn't she embracing him? Why....why didn't she love him?

Panicking slightly, Sephiroth extended his hands in her direction once again, but Jenova stepped back. Shaking her head at him, just as Hojo had done, the entity whom Sephiroth had dedicated nearly everything he did to turned her back on him.

Now he was scared. The darkness was more than just that; it was an all-consuming maw mace of his own twisted, fearful thoughts. He didn't want this; he hated being alone like this. Why did everyone leave? What did he do wrong?

The stormy void closed in around Sephiroth, surrounding him in a cloud of fear. He didn't like this, he didn't want to sleep anymore, he wanted to wake up!

And he did, springing upright in a cold sweat, panting heavily. His wing flapped loudly against the bed, shedding feathers everywhere. He looked around and saw he was the only person in the room, this notion terrifying him even further. In a fit of frenzied hysteria, Sephiroth flung the covers aside and stumbled out of his room, not caring that he was bashing various body parts against the door trim. He ended up in the living room, where you were still awake, working on the couch. As soon as he appeared in the darkened room, you stopped what you were doing and turned to him, confused. His legs, clad only in pajama shorts, were visibly and violently trembling; an unusual occurrence.

"Seph?" You asked, standing up and walking towards him. "Are you alright?" He shook his head, nearly collapsing into your arms. You cradled him for a while, pressing soft kisses to his cheek, waiting patiently to see if he would explain the reasons for his distress. After a few moments, he began to sob.

"Don't leave me," He croaked, clinging onto you tightly. "Don't leave me too...." You sighed softly, before taking his head into your hands and kissing him.

"I'm not leaving you, ever," You told him, running your hands through his long, silky locks. "I'm gonna be here forever. Don't be afraid." Sephiroth nodded, then sniffled and wiped his tears away. "Come on," You said, taking him by the hand and leading him back to his bedroom. "I'll stay with you tonight."

Needless to say, Sephiroth fell asleep easier than ever that night; the comfort of your presence, and the knowledge that you would never leave him lulling him into peaceful slumber.

[soggy-fishsticks]

[smallidarityfan]

smallidarity highschool au

came up with this au like actually 2 years ago where it's mainly empires 2 smallidarity centric, with Jimmy as a student council member and Joel as an honours student who doesn't like the way Jimmy runs things around the school.

As payback for the regulations Jimmy put up that Joel thought was stupid, Joel does these elaborate 'The Office' style pranks on Jimmy (specifically) while Jimmy retaliates by trying his best to dig up dirt on Joel. This banter goes on for a while— however Joel ends up doing the pranks less as a statement, and instead more just to see how Jimmy would react... with his comical, cartoony villain yells, and... weirdly cute face....? (YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI)

very very old au drawings below:

from July 2023

😭😭 joel does NOT look like a highschooler here 😭😭😭😭 (i also wanted to draw angst in the first two ig idk a year later it's pretty cringe [i am still cringe]) (also partially inspired by when I read "Go for it, Nakamura!" and the mc reminded me of joel for no actual reason. or maybe i was just thinking about that manga while drawing smallidarity. idk)

from November 2022:

I think these doodles were genuinely the first instance of me converting from being against mcyt shipping to for shipping LMAOO

[c0smoshit]

Hello angel, here's my silly little angsty prompt:

"Cloud gets home after a mission. He's exhausted, but reader is happy to see him noneless. She knows he isn't a touch person, but she finds fun into teasing him a little, hoping it would make his day better... However, she senses that something is of; and Cloud, unsure if it's a mako flare-up or something else, prefers to let it go. Later that night, he's surprised (yet shattered) when his mom visits him, telling her son she is happy he found "the one" and how proud she is of her son.. When reader awakes to see a puzzled Cloud, she wonders what's the right move to make, only to follow her instinct."

Enjoy wrecking me 🤍

The one ミ★

⋆ ࣪. ℙ𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 ≫ Cloud/fem!reader

⋆ ࣪. 𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 ≫ angst!, minor spoilers, past trauma, not proofread!

⋆ ࣪. 𝔸/ℕ ≫ reqs are closed bc I'm going to be busy next week and I wanna write some stuff by my own too so yeah, sorry 😭

⋆ ࣪. 𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥 ≫ 2.236 ( so many short fics omg )

It started off with your voice.

"Hey"

And then your hand would find his own, bringing him into your little world.

But as the hours passed by, you noticed that something was off, really off.

Maybe it was how lifeless his eyes seemed to be under your cold lighting, despite the beautiful contrast of mako green and natural blue.

Your hands helped him get his sword off him, your ears turning deaf as he told you it wasn't necessary.

He always tried to do everything on his own, he felt as if he was a burden to others. Ever since he was a kid, he thought that maybe it was better if he stayed quiet.

Maybe that was what life had been awaiting him for.

He loved silence, he loved quiet walks into the mountains by himself, whenever his mother would let him.

However, you were quite the opposite of quiet.

. . .

"Yeah, it's that weird guy I told you about"

"Why is he here?"

"Why is he wearing that in public?"

"I heard he was involved with that terrorist group"

Over and over again.

At this point he couldn't distinguish between his mind and the world that was surrounding him.

Cruising through the city, he tried not to interact with anyone as always. But no matter how hard he wanted to focus on his task, there were always some burning eyes on his skull.

At first he didn't mind, he wasn't really used to this kind of attention but he shrugged it off.

Maybe it was his sword or maybe it was the curse in his eyes.

However, as the weeks passed by, he felt more and more out of place. The pollution brought an itch inside his head, but those whispered comments brought headaches.

"Mind your own bussiness, freak"

Turning his head around, he looked over to where you hissed. It was almost comical to see you scolding a pretty big guy, his friends already about to either insult or laugh at you.

However, he stepped behind you before any of that.

He liked the way you always tried to defend him, always beefing with people whenever you heard those awful comments.

He felt somewhat protected

. . .

"You're taking a bath"

What?

He had dissociated from the conversation to the point that he was now aware of your hands prying off his armour.

At first he didn't enjoy those "cute little baths". He felt bad you were cleaning him up and he felt like a little child under your fingertips once again.

But the more your hands laid themselves on his bare body, cleaning him up, the more he leant into your touch.

So he let you handle him around

"Alright, let's start"

After that, your fingers started spreading soap around his scalp, his whole body submerged inside your hot tub.

He found it kind of silly that he had to lay down with his knees outside the water when you could spread them so they rested under it.

He loved those small details

With you he didn't feel naked and vulnerable, he felt finally at peace. He didn't know how much he actually needed your hands on him, but his body surely craved them.

Speaking of, they were currently rubbing soap on his chest, tracing a path until they latched themselves on his arms.

Curiosity spread around his mind whenever you would praise them, tell him how strong he had became over the years. Curiosity because he didn't see that much of a change, he was always like that, right?

But he didn't mind them, hell, he secretly flexed under your gaze so you could gawk at them.

Summer days whenever it was hot outside, glistening skin under the warm hues of the punishing sun. He was always weirdly lifting something heavy whenever you were around, a wooden box or some metal bar.

A secret attention whore

He let you play around with his fingers, eyes closed as he relaxed into the tub behind him. He liked the way your hand fit so perfectly with his own one.

Whenever you would drag him around the city, latching your fingers around his wrist as he followed close behind you.

Ever since the day he had met you, you seemed different.

He could crack a smile with you without the need of feeling embarrassed about it, let alone laugh at your stupid puns. He felt light-headed, and he really needed you after a long day.

That's why he always tried to get home as soon as possible when you weren't working too, he wanted ( needed ) to see you. The way his aching legs dragged themselves without any pain into your house.

But on days like this, his legs ached x2 times harder.

Why was he still alive after all that had happened?

Why did the Planet need him so badly?

Couldn't others replace his job?

Those questions flooded his mind again and again, like a snake that bit it's own tail.

He was become more and more confused about his surroundings, the past traumatic events still flashing lively through his tired eyes.

God he was tired.

And after all the times he had already told you that he was fine, just tired, that adjective seemed to have lost it's initial weight.

So tired.

The past, the nostalgia mixed with the sour taste of regret and bad decisions.

The present that still haunted him on lonely, endless nights.

The future he didn't even want to know that was awaiting for him.

As bad as it sounded, he had lost interest in the things he adored doing. He felt better when he was just breathing, sinking in your arms.

SOLDIER? he wasn't good enough to be one of them

Sep%#/<*@? It was better if he slowly forgot his name

However, it wasn't that easy.

No matter how far his legs had managed to take him, a long trail into some tall, enigmatic woods without a visible exit.

He was always following right behind him

And he didn't know how much time he had left until his face would be pushed into the dirt, a much stronger hand keeping him down.

. . .

"Cloud!"

White hair was replaced by your h/c locks, a warm waterfall of relief washed all over his body at your sight.

"Were you even listening to me?"

His body felt fuzzy and when he looked down he saw a towel wrapped around him, his legs sitting on the cold wc.

He looked back into your face, a cute pout resting on top of your brows as you waited for him to answer. Only to see that disgusting look of worry paint all over your pout instead.

He hated and despised that look in your face

He always blamed himself for making you feel like that, maybe he shouldn't have opened up as much as he did. Maybe he was being such a baby about all this.

He wanted to make you happy with him, cheerish him for the things he had done that day, admire him. Anything that didn't involve your pretty face coming down.

But, of course, he didn't know how to brighten it up.

His pupils remained connected with yours until he looked away, confused about what to do or to say.

But your hands suddendly wrapping his head in a warm cage of softness, kept him from thinking. A towel was ruffling his hair up, and he didn't mind anymore if it ended up messed.

He liked the feeling of someone finally taking care of him

And when you both finally winded down from the day, ready to rest on the comfortable bedding you had chosen, he felt as if someone was dragging him down into a puddle of confusion once again.

The worst part is that he didn't know how to swim back

"Sweetie"

She paused for a brief moment, her hands slowly lulling him back into an awake state.

"Honey?"

Mom?

"That's right, sweetie"

His eyes opened up, finally seeing the woman behind that familar voice.

"I missed you"

He couldn't believe he was back home, looking down he still saw his adult body. Well, and adult body that only hid childish maners.

He wanted to say that he missed her too, a lot actually. But no words seemed to seep out of his mouth, it felt like a nightmare.

Part of his childhood and teenage years passed by without her, a warmth he seemed to seek on cold nights, sneaking a hand around your waist. Whenever he saw other children with their mothers, teenagers that got angry at them, he wanted to feel that too.

Hell, he wanted to feel everything that he was deprived of. From the softness of her arms as she tucked him to sleep, to her honeyed voice as she sung making dinner.

His head still laid on his pillows and he could recall the coziness of it, it was the only thing about his past that he was sure was real.

"You've grown to be a good man huh?"

She kept talking, and he wanted nothing more to do other than hearing her voice for the last time.

"You've gotten really handsome too. . ."

Her hands took his arm, his mind now being aware of her presence as she sat on the bed, sinking a bit the mattress. Her fingertips dancing along the skin, trying to memorize all his muscles.

". . . and strong too"

A big smile was plastered on her face, looking at him as if he was a newborn again, getting ready to sleep for the first time after she had given birth to him.

"The ladies must be crazy for you"

And she wasn't wrong, they really were.

He got compliments almost every day in Midgar, from the honeygirls to some random ladies on the street. But it wasn't until his mother told him how pretty he actually was that he started believing it.

"I saw that girl, you're a lucky one"

Did she mean... you?

You were one of the few persons he knew he could trust, that could lend him a hand whenever he was feeling down.

He couldn't describe what he felt for you, but he definitely knew that if you happened to fall off a cliff, he would be there to catch you.

You had done so much already for him and yet without expecting the same amount of love and care for him. And he felt so bad about it, he wanted to return all of your hugs, cuddles, kisses and praises.

"She's the one"

And there you were, laying like a lonesome princess by his side. He could see your pacified breathing, it would always calm him down.

How had he gotten so lucky?

You seemed like a goddess under his gaze, and it was on nights like this he finally got to appreciate your beauty.

You could be sweating, with your hair all ruffled up after a workout that he still would've found you the prettiest woman alive.

You always told him how handsome he was, how his face was absolutely perfect as you forced him into wearing some kind of mask you would apply into your face shortly after too.

He loved you, he loved you, he loved you

His mind was racing at this point, he didn't even know where to look anymore. At your pretty eyes closed shut? At the way you were cutely laying on the bed with your arms hugging your chest? At your body under the mattress?

If he were to write down his favourite part about you, he wouldn't even know where to start.

However, when your eyes opened themselves slowly, he panicked.

Did he wake you up?

But he stayed still on spot, the warm blanket he didn't want to leave when he got up in the morning pooling bellow his stomach.

"Cloud?"

Stop.

He wished he had an audio recorded of your voice and listen to it whenever he had to sleep without you.

"What's wrong?"

Your eyelashes batted themselves, trying to wake your brain up as you searched his body under the dark light.

He soon felt your hand on his bare chest, finally able to look at him in the eyes. Which wasn't a complicated task as they were bright as the sun.

Your moon in dark nights

"Go back to sleep"

That was the fourth time you had heard him speak this afternoon, and it concerned you so much. He always listened to your stories and when he was in a good mood, he would never shut up.

He was a pleasant person to speak to, really, he had such beautiful words to say whenever he got philosophical. And he actually made you cry when he bashed out about his trauma.

But you just looked at him and without any words, your arms enveloped him like his mother. You knew he was comfortable like this, silence as your heartbeat slowly matched his own one perfectly.

And soon both of your bodies were laying on the mattress, your hands holding his head, pressing him further into your chest as he clinged to your back.

You told him the most sugary praises you could had ever thought about, lulling him back to sleep as his mind began clouding with sleep.

You could've sworn you felt something wet on your chest, but you didn't care, you were more than happy to finally see him express his feelings with you.

[certifiedsungod]

Mmmyyyeeeeeah

It's canon that they're friends in every universe trust

Also random headcanon that Sephiroth has the ability to see different versions of himself except he can't control it they just appear in dreams and stuff

[the-moogs]

a paopu fruit: they say if two people share one, their destinies become intertwined. they’ll be a part of each others lives no matter what 🌟

[ninibeingdelulu]

How he kiss you ✧ ft. cloud strife

When he’s happy/content :

His kisses are feather-light and languid, more a sensual brush of lips than any rushed heat.

He'll nuzzle his face against yours, drinking in your nearness with a low rumble of satisfaction.

Cloud's usual penetrating mako gaze softens into tenderhearted adoration.

Calloused thumbs map the curves of your cheekbones reverently as he peppers delicate, airy kisses across your skin.

Savoring the quiet moments of solace in your embrace, any pretense of bravado stripped away to revel in unguarded affection.

When he’s angry/frustrated:

You'll know his foul temper by the scorching intensity smoldering behind that cool mako stare.

Jaw clenched, Cloud crowds into your space with broad shoulders thrown back - filling your senses with his commanding presence.

One calloused palm fists in your hair, fingertips biting into your scalp as he crushes his mouth over yours in a punishing, breathless kiss.

His other arm bands around your waist like steel, jerking your bodies flush as he cuts off any retreat.

Cloud's kisses are desperate, tinged with snarling possession - all clashing teeth and questing tongue as he ravages your willing senses.

Only once you've melted pliant against that powerful frame does he ease enough to nip at your swollen lips in a hazy daze of lingering temper.

When he’s desperate/anguished:

In those dark and fragile moments when the nightmares resurface with a vengeance, Cloud's usual icy reserve shatters like shards under intense pressures.

He seeks you out like a moth lured to a searing flame, fingers trembling against your cheeks with unbridled yearning.

His kisses are raw and open-mouthed, devouring you with a bruising hunger that steals the breath from your lungs.

You can taste the metallized tang of barely-restrained anguish on his questing tongue as he chases your taste with reckless, single-minded need.

Cloud's deep groans rumble through your bones as he coaxes your mouths into deeper unions, bodies crushed together in a seamless tangle.

He's anchoring every shattered shard back into place through your scorching connection, kept whole by the gravity of your joined heartbeats as one.

When he’s in need for comfort :

After fresh trauma stirs the ghosts rattling through his mind, Cloud becomes distressingly small and fragile.

You ache witnessing such a mighty warrior rendered so haunted and hollowed by inner demons, instinctively pulling that achingly tense frame into your sheltering embrace.

Cloud clings to you with desperate, trembling need - burying his face into the crook of your neck as you card soothing fingers through his tousled spikes.

His lips brush feather-light, barely-there kisses along the curve of your shoulder, seeking steadfast solace in your anchoring presence.

There's such sacred intimacy, such naked vulnerability in these wispy caresses, like offering prayerful worship to the eye of a tumultuous storm.

You simply hold him as he maps the constellations of your freckled skin - reminding him to exhale, to feel grounded against your shared and steady pulse amidst the thunder.

[demialwrites]

FF7 x Reader

Annoying things about being in a relationship with them

Rufus Shinra

He knows how to clean surprisingly decently because of his time confined to Turk HQ in Before Crisis but stubbornly refuses to do certain things. It's 'beneath him'

Even if you're on birth control or otherwise can't get pregnant, it doesn't matter. He's wearing a condom and how dare you suggest otherwise

He takes up all the space in the closet because of all the layers he insists on wearing

He insists on taking his dog everywhere, even if you explain it terrifies some people. For example: your poor parents

Rude

There's a third wheel in this relationship and his name starts with a Re and ends with a No

Rude is very romantic. However, he only barely has time so his gestures happen spontaneously and it's hard to plan around his schedule

Often comes home with injuries and you're the one who has to patch him up and worry about him. He doesn't worry about himself

He prefers to show not tell. You have to learn how to read him with a glance

Reno

There's a third wheel in this relationship and his name is Rude

His insecurity randomly spikes and he gets mega jealous, sometimes with threats at the offending party

Very loud. All the time

Gets broody about things he has to do at work and sometimes nothing you do will help

Gets whiney when you don't have the stamina to have sex all damned night

Cloud

Cannot communicate his needs. Does not know what his needs are. WHAT ARE NEEDS?

Everyone flirts with him but if you try to talk to him about it, he never noticed the flirting in the first place

Sometimes cute animals follow him home and oops, one day you have seven cats, fifteen chickens, four dogs, several chocobos, and one of those giant elephant fiends because it was injured and alone. You didn't sign up to live at a zoo but here you are, shoveling elephant shit every day

Occasionally, one of his hair spikes stab you straight in the eye when he's being the little spoon

Barret

Thinks he can fix everything himself when sometimes you just need him to listen

Like Reno, Barret can be quite loud. If you like peace, sometimes you have to take some space. It makes the big guy sad

Not very detail-oriented. Leaves little things like ammo all over the garage/shed floor and small bits of trash all over the house. He meant to pick it up, honest!

Occasionally breaks the bed

Tseng

You can't be spontaneous for shit because he anticipates everything

He has certain cleaning standards but he doesn't always tell you. He just redoes it himself

Must be the one to clean and iron his suit himself or he will get annoyed

His handwriting is annoyingly perfect and it makes you feel bad about your chicken scratch

Elena

Puts herself in danger way too often. She doesn't understand your horrified reaction to her story of how she jumped out of a helicopter onto a moving dune buggy in the middle of the Corel desert

It can be hard to tell if she's actually angry or just venting

You know more about her work than is probably safe for you

Too spontaneous. She sometimes makes important decisions without consulting you first

Reeve

Main bad habit: he is a workaholic

Sometimes puts others needs before yours. He's just trying to help

Doesn't take good care of his health

Uses the sad puppy eyes to get out of arguments more often than he should

Sometimes leaves spare cait siths and his parts all over the living room