#final fantasy blurb

[multi-fandom-imagine]

‘I want the K’ for Cloud Strife.

A/n: uh....I apologize for how old this ask is.

The Kiss:

9: Jawline Kiss

Shifting his body, this was the only chance for Cloud to relax with you, he wasn't about to take this shit for granted. His arms weaving around your hips as he drew you in close.

Humming softly, you opened one of your eyes as you gave him a light smile. "You should be sleeping."

Chuckling for a moment, Cloud shook his head as he let his fingers glide down your back. "I'm fine...besides I know I can say the same thing about you."

Shrugging your shoulders, you shifted your body as you placed a delicate kiss to his jaw. The former Solider relaxing under your touch. You then nuzzled your face into his neck. Once your breathing evened out, Cloud's gaze softened seeing that you had fallen asleep.

Lips pulling into a soft smile, Cloud let his own eyes slip closed.

This was a perfect moment.

[ariseur]

Hii I would like to make a request of "🍰time check on pre-nibelheim Cloud" with 'stay with me til i fall asleep' and 'fake dating', I hope you are comfortable with this and congratulations (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

✧˖° time check!! 🍰 : currently 12am when i’m starting this!

✧˖° edit ; i just realized this said pre nibelheim cloud and i am so sorry i forgot that! i hope this is okay 😭

lazing in bed isn’t so bad, you think. looking up at the ceiling with only the distant ambience of sector 7’s slums outside your curtained window was almost a little soothing to you as you fell in and out of slumber. the lingering pain in your side hurt like hell though — considering you were practically thrown at a wall a day or two ago by one of shinra’s most frustrating creations: a sweeper.

the warm sheets pressed against your back wasn’t much help to the stinging sensation that burrowed into your midriff, only adding to the extensive warmth that was enveloping your body with cool waves of sweat periodically layering itself against your skin. your eyes flit along the darkness of the room, squiggly shapes appearing along your line of sight when you focus on them for too long.

you can’t bring yourself to shift any more along the mattress as you hear the familiar clicking of a doorknob. you assume it’s tifa from how gently the door is opened, maybe coming to bring you a fresh change of bandages or more water that you’d politely decline.

you’re grateful she had let you bunk in this odd room she keeps underneath the bar, a small room for sure, but nonetheless better than bleeding out in the street or in a stuffy medical hut.

but only when you hear the quiet call of your name do your eyes dart to the right, spotting a familiar silhouette of spiked hair and a large buster sword on their back. your ‘boyfriend’, cloud strife. seeing cloud was somehow both difficult and pleasing, an oxymoron in a world where everything felt too simplistic to function. you’re not quite sure why he proposed the idea of the title to you, especially when you guys weren’t technically . . dating.

perhaps another tactic that benefited him in this battle with both the assholes of society, shinra included. or perhaps he just somewhat liked the idea of calling you his girlfriend, although you decided to push that thought far down into the creases of your brain as he approaches you; heavy boots against wood as they made their way towards you.

“you’re still up?” he asks, a monotonous tone that almost sounds deafening against the quietude of the dark bedroom.

“mhm,” you hum, hands clasping as they place themselves on your stomach. he shuffles over to the edge of the bed, placing a small glass filled with water and a small plate of toast on the worn down circular night table next to the bed, the wood lowly creaking with the weight of the objects.

cloud presses his lips into a thin line as he tries to figure out what to say. surely, a ‘boyfriend’ wouldn’t leave his partner possibly writhing in pain while he just walks away and continues on with mindlessly patrolling around seventh heaven right? therefore his mouth opens for another question, perhaps it comes out a bit wary when he says, “how’re you.. feeling?”

you turn your head for what feels like the first time in ages, the side of your cheek pressing against a cool part of the pillow to which you revel in, the foreign fabric refreshing your senses as you look at cloud. “not very well,” you mumble, voice raspy from the lack of use.

“oh,” is all he responds with. it almost looks a little scary, the way he simply just stands there, face invisible due to the fact that the only light illuminating his figure was the sliver of the backlight emerging from the doorway. “do you want me to,” he pauses, “go?”

your eyes stay on him for a moment before eventually upturning to the ceiling, eyes adjusting to the script dimness you’re met with on the roof. the ringing in cloud’s ears become unbearable as you both stay silent for a beat, so thick. so quiet.

you suppose he takes it as a cue to leave as he says nothing more and instead goes to exit the room before you whisper a tiny, “cloud?”

it shouldn’t be surprising, considering with how much mako and how much training it takes to become a soldier much less a mercenary would cause his ears to still perk up. he turns back to look at you, this time giving you a glimpse of three quarters of his face with the deep yellow lighting past the door. you purse your lips, watching the way his eyebrows remain furrowed with his head cocked.

“can you stay?”

“stay?” he parrots.

“until,” you almost stop yourself, halting your words as if you debated with yourself inside of your little head, tugging at the words as you weave them inside your brain before ultimately; you end up just spitting it out. “until i fall asleep, maybe?”

cloud didn’t miss the way the last word fell off into a meek mutter, your face wholly turning to the other side, the darkness of the other side capturing your face as he stands in the doorway. he contemplates for a moment, and you almost regret even asking him to stay. it almost felt a little odd. maybe you were desperate for comfort; or maybe you just needed him.

“i mean, it’s alright if you don’t want to. i get that it’s late—“

“sure,” you’re met with his curt answer, whipping your head back around as you hear soft footsteps advance. “are you sure you don’t need anything?” he asks, navigating around the room blindly in search of a chair to pull.

you manage a meager, ‘mhm’ as you hear a cut off scrape against the floor and see cloud’s silhouette lifting it and walking over to your bedside. he places the object as gently as he can but you can’t help but snicker as it still makes enough noise anyway to which he huffs.

“thanks, cloud.”

“don’t mention it,” he mumbles, sitting down on the wooden seat as he leans back, scooting his hips ever so forward so as to get more comfortable. it’s a difficult view, he must admit, considering he can’t see your face at all and vice versa, but he can’t let your pleas go unheard.

he know he’ll wake up with a kink in his neck from ensuring you get a good night’s sleep even with your hinderance, and he knows that either tifa or marlene would end up running down to check on you in the morning and see the two of you — but for some reason, he doesn’t care.

even when it’s midnight, seeing your head nuzzle into the pillow as your legs shift to a foreign part of the bed in search for a cool spot rather than the sweat barren sheets you’ve already claimed, is merely so refreshing to him.

crap, he thinks. you really do have him wrapped around your finger.

𐙚 join my taglist !! ; @alieeelinn @ch3rryfiles

𐙚 dottie’s 500 event | 🍰 time check and 🍡 action prompt!!

𐙚 non-500 requests are closed — august fourth, 2024 [ 12:49 am ]

[pinkkittysaw]

CHAPTER I

- AT YOUR SERVICE, MY LADY

chapter 2 →

series master-list can be found here!

summary: au where you’re a princess and clive has been appointed as your first shield

pairing: clive rosfield x f!reader

word count: 1.1k

content: NSFW (minors and ageless blogs DNI you will be blocked!) oral (f!receiving), spit, degradation, power imbalance, slight dub-con (in the beginning), exhibitionism, dirty talk, both you and clive are adults

a/n: happy happy birthday to me!!!! i got the idea to write this last night and decided i would post it as a little treat to myself. ngl i’m addicted to princess x knight or king x maid type stories 😭

dividers by @/saradika

You don’t know what it is about your first shield that strikes you, but lately, it seems he's the only thing consuming your thoughts. Perhaps it was his handsome face, branded with a scar across his cheek. Maybe it was the broadness of his shoulders or how delicious the swell of his chest looked when on display in one of his low-cut shirts. It could be the way he wields his sword in battle, his body moving in a precise and calculated manner as he hacks and slashes. You also had to take his hips into account; the sway while he walked was simply mesmerizing.

To say there was an attraction between the two of you was definitely an understatement. Though relations between nobles and their knights were frowned upon, you couldn't help being drawn to him. What started as minor flirting back and forth developed into palpable sexual tension, so much so that one day, while he was escorting you to the dining hall, you pulled him into a side room.

The sword on his back clangs against the wall as you shove him against it. Your breath heavy as you stare up at him. His face flushes as he chokes out, "My lady." 

It's then that you decide to kiss him, melding his lips with your own. He's taken aback at first but helplessly becomes engrossed in the it, panting into your mouth. 

"I've seen how you look at me, Clive." You pause your assault on his lips.

"The way you stare at my breasts when you think I'm not looking."

He always did his utmost to respect you, but he couldn't deny the allure of your breasts while you wore a corset. So badly did he want to free them from their confines and watch them bounce as he gave you pleasure. 

He's speechless at your accusation, and knowing he can't deny it, he doesn't even try to defend himself, only being able to sputter out "Um's" and "Uh's."

"You're not in trouble, Clive."

"I want you," you whisper into his ear.

He grunts at this, throwing all caution to the wind. He lifts you up by your bum, then carefully lays you on the floor. He's ravenous as he paws at your body, his hands and mouth clinging to every inch of skin they can find. 

There's a sense of urgency now with the yanking and pulling of fabrics. The bust of your dress is tugged down as your breasts bounce free. ‘At long last’ Clive thinks to himself. He gets a hungry look in his eye as he begins to suck and mouth at your tits, groaning against the soft flesh. His hand slides up your leg and into your dress, where he then pulls down your knickers, his fingers making contact with your warm heat for the first time. He positions himself in front of your bent legs, bunching up the hem of your dress over your hips.

Slowly but surely, you spread your legs, exposing your bare self to him.

"Oh, my lady," his mouth is agape as he blatantly stares, "you're absolutely beautiful." His thick fingers prod at your entrance, gathering some of your arousal as he works his way to your clit, coating the nub and rubbing it in soft circles.

"Let me taste you, my lady. It's all that I want."

You let out a whimper, and something in Clive snaps. He pulls you closer by your hips and throws your legs over his shoulder. He plants kisses to your inner thighs, licking the skin before grazing it lightly with his teeth.

"Please," you whine, biting your lip in anticipation.

The first contact his tongue makes with your cunt makes you shudder. His tongue lays flat against you as it drags from your entrance over your folds and to your needy clit. He continues to run his tongue through your folds before giving your clit quick little pecks with his lips, all of which give you a jolt of pleasure, causing you to twitch in his hold. 

"Clive," you grumble, clearly not enjoying his teasing.

"Good things come to those who wait, my lady," He smirks. "Or was the spoiled princess never taught how to have patience?"

Before you can protest, he spits on your cunt, his finger once again making its way between your soaked folds, smearing his salvia all over your clit.

"You just can't wait, can you? It's always now, now, now with you," he mocks.

You begin to writhe against him now, silently begging him to go faster. His arm lays across your navel, preventing you from bucking your hips and taking the sweet pleasure you desire.

His ministrations on your clit pick up in intensity as he speaks once more.

"You like it messy, don’t you, my lady?"

"Who would’ve thought the sweet little princess was so filthy?"

You can't help the moan that escapes you. Your hands make their way to your tits, squeezing at them before tugging on your peaked nipples with ample fingers.

"I wonder what your people would think if they saw you like this, begging your sworn shield to eat you out on the storeroom floor like a depraved whore."

"C-Clive," you pant as you clench around nothing, a familiar heat starting to buildup in your abdomen.

"Yeah, you like that?'

"You like hearing about how filthy you are, my lady?" He smirks once more, clearly amused by the effect his words are having on you.

You were practically begging at this point, a cacophony of pleas tumbling out of your lips, wanting him to just put his mouth back on you and make better use of it instead of spewing filth.

"It’s alright, my lady. Your secret is safe with me."

"You just lay back and relax now," he leans back into your cunt gripping your thighs with his fingers. He kisses around your folds before giving kitten licks to your clit then taking it into his mouth, sucking gently.

"Fuck yes," you whine while tugging him further into your pussy by his hair.

"That’s it."

"Give in to your desire." The sound of his voice is muffled against you. 

You began to buck your hips against his face, rutting your cunt all over his nose and lips, so consumed with your own pleasure. And he let you. The way your face contorted into pleasure as you took what he gave you was enough to make any man believe in the gods. Absolute heaven.

Neither of you can find the means to care as a poor, unsuspecting maid walks in on you, stunned to see the beloved princess with her sworn shield, devouring her sopping cunt like a man starved. 

[phoebe-of-ivalice]

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙃𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙨

She didn’t know what to expect as she climbed out of the verdant lower canopy of trees. This was the highest she had ever managed before a warder had caught her, turning her back towards the safety of the village. She had been a child then, and perhaps now that she was in line to be one of the village shaman, they wouldn’t dare to stop her. A smug grin whipped across her face at the mere thought. She knew how to take care of herself now that she was a huntress.

Breaking through the leaves, she gazed out over the treetops. Her breath caught in her throat as she took in the view: the splendor of the mountains rising above, their shadows casting across the sprawling woods below.

Just off the horizon, a slight glint of silver caught eye as the sun’s reflection bounced off something. She could feel the familiar scratch of curiosity clawing at her mind. Why did her people never venture beyond the forest’s edge? Surely there was *something* out there worth finding?

A familiar whistle sounded in the distance. The warders must have caught onto her presence by now, the call sounding to be wary of straying too far. She sighed. Maybe one day they too would feel the pull of invisible strings towards a destiny other than this. For now, all she could do was return to the village and wait until she could sneak away again.

[vahalia-cress]

⸸ The Inevitable ⸸

Melee/Tournament: DAY 1 @daily-writing-challenge

The breeze in the cabin was cool, something more akin to what she was used to as Vahalia stood looking out over the deep water to observe the ships that could not make port. There were vibrant specks of lights that danced over the ripples and the moon hung above the waters stealing the blanket of night from pure and utter darkness. Not too far off The Red Queen remained, partially one of the few things Vahalia had traveled to Tural for but she would have to be patient.

There was a plan and it had been set in motion for weeks, however, she, Cordelia, Castien, and Wren would have to execute each with care and precision.

Just a year ago she had been in Ishgard partaking in events, jousting tournaments and soirees, a melee of political discussions and meetings that captured her attention. Now, she was leagues away from the comforts of the frigid city she called home.

Could she ever truly consider it a place of respite?

She was born there, grew up there, had family there and it was a place of familiarity but deep down the nagging sensation of more harkened to her. Ishgard was a placeholder, another hole to which her ancestors simply fled. 

Idalia stirred quietly in the bassenette at the other end of the room with Evran still indulging in his cozy slumber. And it was the roaming shadow in the room from the furthest recess that eventually traveled in Vahalia’s direction, the curling whisps of shadows spilled along the floor as Creature materialized behind her, the entity fully unexpurgated as it loomed high above her as Creature often did. His size was nearly immeasurable in some circumstances.

“We leave at dawn.” Vahalia finally spoke, her eyes drifting over the horizon of the hellish depths of the sea before them, her attention now pinning on the location of The Sea Scorpion and the small boats that peppered the roil of slow waves, lights growing ever closer as she knew it to be the mounts they were transporting swiftly from the vessel.

“𝔚𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔡𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔰𝔨 𝔬𝔣 𝔪𝔢?” the haunting voice chittered.

“Nothing short of a perfect performance.”

“ℌ𝔬𝔰𝔱 𝔪𝔢.” The reply from Creature came swiftly and eagerly, his large eyes turned towards Vahalia and a heavy chill rested on the mantle of her attire.

“In due course.” she offered, her hand diving into the pocket of her robe as she procured a silken cloth, fractures of sapphire resting in the slope of her palm as she unwrapped it and showed Creature to her left, “I need you to track the person this belonged to. This will be your current goal.”

The cacophony of sounds, voices, and hissing was expelled and soon died down as Creature boughed to sniff at the essence of the broken pieces nestled into the cloth, “𝔄𝔥…” he cooed seemingly pleased, “ℑ𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔣𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔱 𝔟𝔲𝔱 𝔭𝔬𝔴𝔢𝔯𝔣𝔲𝔩.”

“It’s of another Magi. I’ve never been acquainted with what they are capable of aside from deceit but we will find out just how much of a battle this might become. 

“𝔗𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔦𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔰𝔠𝔢𝔫𝔱 𝔬𝔣 𝔞𝔢𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰.” he warned her as he dipped his head lower to inspect the pieces, tongue slicking out to rove over the sharp edges and an insatiable sound emitted, hunger striking his core.

“As much as I have suspected. This belonged to another though I cannot tell if it is a regular gem or a soulstone. In any event, much will be expected of you and you will be required to participate in the hunt.”

“𝔄𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔲𝔰, ℑ 𝔞𝔯𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔩𝔶 𝔞𝔴𝔞𝔦𝔱 𝔰𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔞 𝔱𝔞𝔰𝔨. 𝔖𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔠𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔞 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔳𝔶 𝔯𝔢𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔡.” he warned.

A crimson smirk split Vahalia’s lips, a dimple pinned into her cheek as she regarded her familiar with a glint in her sharp eyes, “Since when have you known me not to give to those deserving of praise?” Silence lingered and Vahalia tucked the cloth-covered pieces back to where she had procured them from, “You’ll get your piece and you will be deserving of it should all go without fail.”

[pangolinheart]

FFXIVWrite 2023 DAY 1 - ENVOY

It's a beautiful day in Old Sharlayan, and you are a horrible catte.

Rating: General General: Fluff/Nonsense Characters: Z'rhiki Irhi (Warrior of Light), Erenville, Fourchenault Leveilleur, Alisaie Leveilleur, Alphinaud Leveilleur, G'raha Tia, Urianger Augurelt Word Count: 1955 Content Warnings: None

Splash

Erenville lunged forward, catching his quarry gently but firmly between his two hands. The frog squirmed in this grasp, but was unable to wriggle free.

“May I ask,” Erenville started as he lowered the frog delicately into the rectangular tank that sat between him and his self-appointed new friend, “Why you wished for me to teach you how to catch frogs? Do not tell me that  your time masquerading as one has instilled you with a new fascination form them?”

“Something like that- Oh, wait!” She too dove her hands into the shallows of the pond, but unlike him emerged with empty hands while an agitated frog hopped away from its would-be captor.

“Drat!” she muttered, drying her hands on her trousers. “Anyway, you did say you were an expert on frogs. And since you collect things for the Studium, I figured you must be pretty good at catching them.”

“You are not wrong,” he agreed. “Though perhaps it would have been easier to ask your magically inclined friend to conure them for you?”

She flashed him a sly grin. “Oh, I definitely couldn’t ask Y’shtola for help with this.”

Erenville hummed. “And what, if I might ask, is ‘this’? What use is it you have for these creatures?”

“I have a really boring meeting at the Forum later today.”

He narrowed his eyes slightly.

Her expression morphed into one of unconvincing innocence. “I’m just going to take them to do a little sight-seeing! I won’t let them get hurt, I promise!”

“I see.” He regarded her for a moment, wondering idly if he should really be assisting in this endeavor. He was starting to have an inkling of what she might be up to.

“I’ll take good care of them! And I’ll feed them some nice bugs and bring them back home after!”

Then again, it really wasn’t any of his business what went on at the Forum.

“You must be careful not to lose track of any – greater Sharlayan is too cold for them, and if they can’t find their way to water, their skin could dry out.”

Though still kneeling by the pond’s edge, she gave him something of a mock salute, one fuzzy ear twitching as she did so. “Yes, sir! Oh, look, there’s another one over there!”

His gaze didn’t follow the trajectory of her pointing hand, remaining fixed on her while she eyed her next quarry. “You are quite interesting for a diplomatic envoy, aren’t you? You do not remind me much of the other delegates to Sharlayan I have met.”

“I would argue I’m the perfect ambassador  to Sharlayan!” She quipped without removing her eyes from the frog plopping through the reeds.

Erenville wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so instead he edged gingerly over to her and took her hands in his. “Here, you are holding your hands wrong. And you should lower your upper body, or the frog will notice your shadow before you have a chance to strike. Like this-”

------------------------------------------------------------------------

“What’s in the bag?” Alisaie nudged Rhiki with an elbow and looked pointedly down at the large and oddly square sack in her arms. She noticed the beginning of a smile on the Warrior of Light’s face before the woman caught herself.

“Oh? This?” Rhiki asked, adjusting her grip on the sack as the group settled onto some of the benches lining the corridor just outside of the Forum’s main chamber. “It’s just some books. We always have to wait ages for an audience, and since I don’t know much about Sharlayan I thought I would try to read up on it while we wait.”

“Really?” Alphinaud piped up, voice incredulous but eyes sparkling with excitement.

He’s going to be so disappointed, Alisaie couldn’t help but think. Alphinaud may have been naïve enough to believe that their friend had turned over a new, more studious leaf, but she certainly wasn’t. No, Rhiki was like her, and she was up to something.

“Oh, you brought books? A terrific idea! Might I borrow one? It would certainly help to pass the time,” G’raha Tia interjected.

“Uhhhh, you’ve probably already read all of these ones,” she heard Rhiki lie.

Was that bag… making noise?

------------------------------------------------------------------------

“WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?!”

Fourchenault’s bellowing voice ricocheted through the forum’s halls, echoed by numerous footsteps rushing down the hall towards him. The shouting summoned several of his colleagues, a smattering of staff, and the Scions of the Seventh dawn – all eager to find the source of the commotion. They all crowded around him, peering over, under, and around him into his office. All was quiet for a few seconds, before he saw the “Warrior of Light” double over in raucous, cackling laughter.

“Fourchenault! I didn’t know you liked frogs so much!”

His grip on the doorframe tightened until his knuckles were white. Her.

The rest of the assembled crowd broke out into murmurs (and, to his aggravation, chuckles) as they took in the sight that had greeted him upon opening his office door.

A large frog sat placidly on his desk, croaking. Somehow it seemed to be looking directly at him, its black beady eyes boring into his soul.

Another frog hopped from around the corner of the desk, while yet another leapt down from  a shelf on one of the many bookcases that lined his office. One scrambled aimlessly across the paperwork and notes he had carefully laid out, and another had contented itself wallowing in the soil of his potted plant. They were everywhere.

“It’s cute that you have so many of them, but you really shouldn’t let them wander freely around your office. They might get stuck somewhere! Or escape when you open the door!” The delighted smugness in the Warrior of Light’s voice made him seethe.

“These are not my frogs, as I suspect you well know,” He managed through gritted teeth.

This was her doing. He knew it. It had all been her doing. He almost hadn’t noticed when it started – small, inconsequential things not being where he had left them, or an inkwell he could have sworn he had just refilled being empty upon his return to his office. He thought the weight of his duty was simply taxing him, making him forgetful. But then there had been his wobbly desk chair, which he had spent more than an hour shifting about in trying to get comfortable in before flipping it over in frustration to see that someone had glued a small, flat stone to the bottom of one of the legs. That had clearly been someone else’s doing.

Then there had been the day he had continuously bumped into his office furniture and décor. He was not a clumsy man, and he had spent half a day ruminating on his sudden lack of coordination before noticing the indentation of a table leg in one of the area rugs and realizing that every bit of furniture in his office had been moved an ilm and a half to the right. A week or so after that he had returned to his office to find that the contents of all of his desk drawers had been rotated twice counterclockwise.

He didn’t know why she was doing it. Worse, he didn’t know how – he always locked his door behind him when he left his office. But he knew she was doing it, somehow.

And this? This was a clear escalation.

“Oh, you mean they’re not meant to be in here?” The Warrior asked in a saccharine voice.

“Obviously not.”

“Oh! Well, it’s your lucky day, then!” she exclaimed gleefully. “It just so  happens I’m excellent at catching frogs! And, coincidentally, a friend of mine asked me to pick up some amphibian cages they had ordered, and I was planning to stop by after we finished our business here, so I have them handy! The Twelve must be looking out for you!”

Fourchenault was certain the Twelve had nothing to do with this.

The miqo’te slipped under his arm and into his office before he could protest, and began removing a series of small, single-occupancy terrariums, like those gleaners used to transport specimens, from her bag and onto the stone floor of his office. His irritation flared.

“You will not get away with this! It’s obvious to everyone here that you are the one who released these creatures into my office! This is not behavior befitting of an emissary of the Students of Baldesion. I swear I will have you-“

“What, you think I did this?” The woman asked indignantly. She gingerly scooped the first frog from his potted fern.

He took a deep breath, hoping to control the tone and cadence of his speech. He wouldn’t be dragged down to her level. He would compose himself in a manner befitting that of a celebrated orator. “It’s the only rational conclusion I can come to, based on the evidence. Why else would you have brought so many frog tanks into the Forum.”

“I told you.” She carefully placed the first frog within its containment vessel and affixed the lid. “I was delivering them to a friend! Besides, these are clearly salamander tanks, not frog tanks. Obviously you didn’t study herpetology in the academy.”

“It hardly matters what variety of amphibian they were intended for!” He barked. “And if what you say is true, I suppose you wouldn’t mind me sending an assistant to accompany you to deliver them to your friend.”

The Warrior of Light shrugged. “You can if you want. I am going to have to take a detour to Labyrinthos to rehome these poor frogs after I’m done rescuing them from the prison you’ve been keeping them in, though. Oh, I suppose after that I should probably take the tanks home to wash out before I drop them off…”

He couldn’t believe this was happening. He opened his mouth to retort but she cut him off.

“Besides, I couldn’t possibly have set a bunch of frogs loose in your office. I was waiting with everyone else to be granted an audience with the Forum. You can ask the other Students of Baldesion if you like.”

“It’s true!” He heard his daughter’s voice chime in, and he looked over his shoulder to see her standing with her hands on her hips. “Rhiki was with us the entire time. We would have noticed if she had disappeared long enough to set a load of frogs free in your office. It couldn’t have been her!”

He could feel his blood pressure rising. Alisaie had always been the more… difficult of his two children. He loved her dearly, despite what people might believe of him, but she could certainly be strong-willed when it pleased her. He had half a mind to reprimand her for lying on behalf of her… playmate, when one of his father’s favorite students = Urianger, was it? - spoke up.

“My lady speaketh naught but the truth, Lord Fourchenault,” The man, dressed in the robes of an Astrologian, said calmly. “I can attest that Z’rhiki ventured not beyond the limits of mine sight for the entirety of our repose.”

The Warrior of Light beamed. “See? What did I tell you? I’m sure any of the others would say the same! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have frogs to collect. There’s no need to thank me – I’m doing it for their sake, not yours.”

By this point he could feel a pounding headache coming on. Perhaps this was the gods’ doing. It was beginning to feel like this woman was an envoy sent not by the Eorzean Alliance to beg for Sharlayan’s aid in their futile war, but by the Twelve, specifically to punish him.

[oficeandwind]

FF.XIV VERSE: KAMINARI.

kami is a lalafell who was raised in a cult, worshipping rhalgr. when he was around 20 years old, his parents wanted to give his soul to the void, so he could expand his lifespan significally, and they were under the impression that rhalgr would be pleased.

unfortuanately, kami got cold feet and decided not to go through with the ritual. this upset the greater majority of this small cult, and they tried to kill both kami and his parents. the fight left very little in its wake, and kami fled.

without any guidance in his life now, or anyone telling him how to think, kami since then taught himself how to fight with his fists, and trying to come to terms with the past he left behind, and what he wants to do with his life now. the most he was able to accomplish is find a passive interest in the deity oschon. kami was attracted to the idea of freedom, but doesn't actually know how to worship or pray or anything without someone instructing him on exactly how. he's spent the past 5 years aimlessly wandering and trying to find anything to connect to. from little odd jobs to exploring various locations.

it wasn't until coming to ul'dah that he finally found a reason to be useful again. the sultana and the city clearly needed his help, and kami was more than happy to prove useful. he just never actually anticipated how. from joining the adventurer's guild and getting a tour of the city, to joining the pugalists guild and perfecting his fighting techniques, he was happy that people needed him.

it wasn't until he was instructed to be an envoy that kami can now realize he doesn't JUST have to serve a purpose for other people. he's a free man, and has been a free man for quite a few years at this point. it was in limsa lominsa that he joined the arcanist guild, because magic still has an important use for him, and he can learn how to use it for good, and not evil.

kami still feels an urge to made a void pact, but he's been able to resist so far. whenever he does sleep, his dreams have always been strange, an odd mix of darkness and emptiness, though are now filled with images of crystals and hydaelyn. he doesn't know what to make of any of it, but he wants to at least try.

he's not wholly bitter for the most part. kami is like his mainverse counterpart in that he is very reserved and has been hurt in the past, so he's well guarded against others. though when he lets his guard down, he can be quite attached. for now, he just wants to continue being useful to others, while also finally figuring out his own life. at age 25, he feels like it should have started long ago, but hey, he's still young!

[fantasmagoriam]

Wolstinien Week 2023: Day 1 - First Kiss

[xxladymjxx]

Modern!Eddie would be a Final Fantasy and Kingdom Hearts fan! This isn't even up for debate.

The minute he sees the opening pre rendered cutscene his eyes bug out in amazement and he is hooked.

The characters. The story. The worlds. The combat. Eddie loves every minute.

[protemporescitor]

"He volunteers for a dangerous mission in enemy territory - to locate a site for Shinra to steal natural resources from while his buddies war crime their way across a sovereign nation."

[despair-ninja-everything-agency]

WoLCred Week 2023 Day 1 - Comfort/Scars

“Even then, your mere presence comforts me”

[libertastandem]

"How selfish of me

Falling in love with you"

- Zero Kiryu, Ken Kaneki, Nicolas Brown, Kishibe, Gabimaru, Hajime Kokonoi, Ken Draken Ryuguji, Manjiro Mikey Sano, Alucard, Kou Mabuchi, Momiji Sohma, Kyo Sohma, Shinji Ikari, Levi Ackerman, Eren Yeager, Jean Kirstein, Armin Arlert, Akaza, Obanai Iguro, Giyu Tomioka, Yoriichi Tsugikuni, Yushiro, Kokichi Muta, Nanami Kento, Higuruma Hiromi, Mikhail Jirov, Vanitas, Shoji Mezo, Tamaki Amajiki, Shigaraki Tomura, Guts, Judeau, Aleksander, Simon Ghost Riley, Leon Kennedy, Cloud Strife, Vincent Valentine, Xiao, Lucy, Touka Kirishima, Orihime Inoue, Nana Ozaki, Kagome Higurashi, Misato Katsuragi, Mikasa Ackerman, Ymir, Kasumi Miwa, Ozawa Yuko, Vi, Danan, Helena Harper (+ your favorite)

[ariseur]

can i request a zack fair x reader where zack gets injured on a soldier mission and reader manages to travel all the way to the hq(?) to see him ; cue scolding him for being careless but also tender kisses and reader fussing over him hehe 🦭

“what’d i tell you about going on that mission?”

“i said i was sorry!” zack whined as he lolled his head against the pillow that laid on your bed.

you sat on the edge of the bed next to him, eyebrows knitted in concern as you tended to a wound on zack’s forehead. he winced as the alcohol soaked piece of cotton pressed against a nasty scrape he had got near his hairline, the once white cotton ball now tainted with blood.

you felt as zack’s foot rapidly shook as he grew antsy. he was never much one for waiting, you thought.

“i told you it was dangerous, zack.” you frowned, narrowing your eyes as zack sheepishly smiled at you. that smile quickly fell as he hissed with every stinging pain that ached in his ribs, not even being able to let out a nervous laugh.

your frown only deepened as you felt his hands leave yours, immediately darting to his midriff as his hands cautiously pressed on his ribs over the sheet while he attempted to alleviate the pain. he groaned a bit before he spoke again, voice strained and hushed so as to not irritate his injuries further, “i’m fine, babe. really.”

your brows wrinkled even more in frustration. he almost got killed and he’s over here telling you he’s fine? you opened your mouth, a slew of words rushing past your lips as you rambled to him about how scared you were. how he can’t do that. how he has to think of consequences.

hands waving about as your mind raced, words tumbling out of your mouth before you could think. zack just looked at you, almost astonished. you weren’t paying much mind to him though, throwing your head in your hands as you ranted.

however, once you took a closer look at your lover, you saw his eyes. eyes blue like the water you two would bring pails to, fishing out some water and splashing it on some beached sea animals. you remember how the dirt of gongaga felt beneath your feet, specks of grass getting stuck to you and zack’s back as you would slip on the puddles and end up on the floor. those trips would end up with you two sitting near the water, hearing the peaceful animals swim through the crystalline liquid as he would talk about his dreams of joining SOLDIER.

his eyes, you realized, flickered between your eyes and lips. he couldn’t help himself but stare, they just looked so plush as they moved with every fluid word you spoke, the words dripping like honey off your tongue albeit with a tinge of exasperation. you realized that his expression was not of astonishment but of mesmerization as his eyes stayed trained on you.

your words trailed off as you felt zack’s hand softly grip your wrist, his cool hand a deep contrast to your warmth. his head cocked a bit while he tugged on your arm, careful to not hurt both you or himself. but in retrospect, when was zack ever careful?

his hand drifted from your forearm to your face, gazing into your eyes while you sighed. you never did seem to be able to stay mad at him.

“kiss?” was all he said before you huffed and ‘begrudgingly’ leaned in, bridging the gap. you internally scoffed as you felt zack grin against your lips, pulling you in with his other arm as best as he could no matter how much it pained him.

[pinkkittysaw]

GOT MILK?

pairing: clive rosfield x f!reader

summary: when jill offers to look after your daughter for a few days, clive indulges in a secret fantasy

word count: 4.6k

content: NSFW (minors + ageless blogs DNI you will be BLOCKED!) established relationship, you & clive have a child, pregnancy mention, minor body insecurity, oral (f! receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v, creampie, breast/nipple play, spit, praise, dirty talk, cursing, petnames (sweetheart, love, darling, etc.)

a/n: um…..blinks

dividers by @/cafekitsune

Three months. Three long, arduous months. It's been three months since you've been given a proper break.

You loved your daughter more than anything in this world, probably more than life itself. She's as cute as can be, never failing to tug on you and Clive's heartstrings whenever she laughs and giggles.

Clive thinks she takes after you, despite her having his inky hair and light eyes, whereas you believe she's more like him, obviously.

"She may have my features, but she acts more like you."

"You both make the exact same face sometimes, I swear," he chortles, sauntering over to plant a kiss on your cheek. "She has your cute pout, your adorable smile, and even your bratty attitude when she's grumpy, but that's neither here nor there," he jests. You feign offense and playfully swat his chest in rebuttal, "I most certainly do not have a bratty attitude."

"Sure, darling," he smirks, giving your cheek a quick pinch before heading off into the other room. Despite Clive's teasing, your daughter is actually quite well-behaved, or rather as well-behaved as one can be at six months old. can be.

You can't lie; raising a child, even one as sweet as your baby girl, is exhausting. Both you and Clive have been run ragged.

He stayed by your side during the first few months postpartum, taking on most, if not all, of the nighttime feedings, diaper changes, and mishaps. You started to feel guilty at some point, feeling the bed shift every night as soon as she got fussy. You question him one evening, curious if he was bothered by having to get up so frequently throughout the early morning hours. He shakes his head no in response. "You carried our daughter for nine months, love," he states. "The least I can do is get up at night to take care of her."

Thankfully, everyone in the hideout was more than accommodating of Clive's decision to stay by your side the first few months after your daughter was born. In fact, you're sure he would've received an earful from both Tarja and Jill if he tried to return to work any sooner than he did.

Those days have long since passed, though, and Clive soon returned to picking up assignments while you stayed at the hideaway taking care of your daughter. You'd think that with so many people congregated in one area, you'd have plenty of people to help watch over your daughter while Clive was away, but you couldn't have been more wrong. A majority were off on assignments of their own, and the ones who stayed behind either had work to be handled there or were too injured and otherwise unfit for watching an infant.

Needless to say, you and Clive were worn out and weary. Having gone three months without any real chance to recuperate, in comes Jill, poor, unsuspecting Jill.

She had just returned from her travels across the realm and decided to visit your chambers, excited to share all the exciting tales from her journey. "Oh, dear," was all she could muster upon seeing your exhausted disposition. Your under eyes had become darker and more prominent due to the lack of sleep.

Clive was out at the moment, but you implore Jill to stay, knowing he'd be happy to see his childhood friend once he returned. The two of you took a seat on the small couch in your chambers, catching her up on everything that's been going on in the hideout. Clive returns a short while later, pleasantly surprised at the sight of Jill, and the three of you bond over tea while she talks about her travels.

"Forgive me for saying so, but the two of you look a wreck."

"Yeah, haha, it hasn't been easy, that's for sure." You give a half-hearted laugh, trying to make light of how spent you and Clive truly are.

"I'm on leave for another few days; I wouldn't mind watching your daughter for a night or two."

"Are you sure? I wouldn't want to impose."

"It's not really imposing if I'm the one offering, is it?"

"Besides, I miss the little cherub."

A beat goes by, and she can tell that you're still feeling conflicted. "I promise I wouldn't have suggested the idea if I wasn't sure."

"Alright then," you say, grasping her hands in yours. "Thank you."

It's sometime later that you're packing everything she'll need in an overnight bag and going through the mental checklist in your head. "I think that's everything," you state, checking and then rechecking everything.

You're about to hand over the bag to Jill when you're hit with a wave of doubt. You watch as she cradles your baby girl in her arms and can't help but get flooded with a bunch of what-ifs. What if there aren't enough diapers? What if she won't settle down to sleep? What if there's an accident? Your worries build and build to the point where you're about to protest Jill taking her at all when Clive clasps a warm hand over your shoulder.

"She'll be alright, sweetheart."

You know he's right. Jill's watched your daughter overnight a few times before. You knew you could trust her; she was one of the biggest supports you had during your pregnancy, other than Clive. You release the breath you didn't know you were holding and sigh. "You're right, you're right," you agree, handing Jill the bag. "I just worry about her, you know?"

Jill smiles back at you. "No offense is taken, and I can assure you that your daughter is in good hands."

You and Clive give your daughter a soft kiss on the forehead before turning to Jill once more. "If anything, and I mean anything, happens, don’t hesitate to get in contact with us, alright?"

"I promise," she smiles as if to reassure you further.

"Say bye-bye to mommy and daddy," Jill states, grabbing your daughter's arm and waving it lightly in the air, causing her to giggle. "I'll see you both in a few days," she says before turning to take her leave. The door shuts behind her, and you and Clive are left in the silence of your chambers.

All of the following day was spent getting your life back in some semblance of order. Once neglected chores and errands were taken care of as Clive went about completing more assignments.

It’s late in the evening when he returns. You're nestled in bed reading a book when he walks in, changing out of his clothes and into his sleepwear. It’s a few minutes later that he climbs into bed beside you, snuggling into your back.

"Reading anything interesting?" he mumbles.

"Just a romance novel; I’ve been meaning to go through this one for a while but haven’t had the time."

"Is it any good?"

"For the most part, the characters are kind of cliche, but I'll give you my full review once I'm finished."

"I'm looking forward to it" is all he says as he presses a quick kiss to your cheek. 

A few minutes pass, and you continue reading as Clive remains glued to your back before he cuts through the silence. "It’s so quiet."

You close the book and set it aside on the nightstand. "I know, it almost feels...wrong? I'm so used to hearing our girl babble or cry."

Clive hums into the nape of your neck before pulling you closer to him, slowly caressing your body over the nightgown you chose to wear. "I’m beginning to suspect that you're having less than pure intentions with me, Rosfield," you tease, starting to lean into his touch.

"Can you really blame me? When I have such an alluring and tempting woman in my bed?"

"I suppose not," you say, enjoying the feeling of his hands roaming your supple form.

Your body has changed so much since your pregnancy and subsequent birth. So much of you grew, shrank, stretched, and sagged, yet Clive still held you tender all the same. You're cradled gently in his arms as he kisses you. He worships your body, treating you as if you were the rarest and most prized treasure in all of Valisthea. You're worth so much more in his eyes—more than all the gil in the realm, more than the power of every Mothercrystal combined. He views you as if nothing else matters more than you and the sacred flesh that bore your daughter.

To say you were always at peace with the changes happening to your body would simply be a lie. You were well aware of all the ways your figure would change to accommodate the growing life inside you, but to be aware of the changes during pregnancy and to actually see them reflected on your own skin is vastly different.

In one of your earlier bouts of insecurity, questioning if Clive would still find you attractive after all was said and done, he pulled you into his arms, holding you close while whispering words of reassurance. "My love, this body has blessed me with the gift of being a father."

"This flesh-" he cuts himself off, placing a hand on your lower stomach to gently caress it. "This flesh that housed our daughter and kept her safe these past nine months is sacred to me."

"How could I ever hate it? How could I be unattracted to the body that has given life to our child?"

"If anything, I think it deserves to be worshipped."

His words echo through your head as you recall the sweet memories. Clive takes notice, as you've stopped moving your lips with his at this point. "What’s on your mind?" he asks, smirking down at you. You try and fail at tucking some strands of his shaggy hair behind his ear, choosing to fiddle with the earring that cuffs it instead. "Thinking about how much I love you," you sigh. "I'm lucky to be able to experience this with you."

He chuckles lightly at your statement before responding. "I’d say I was the lucky one," he strokes his finger along your cheek. "So much of my life has been filled with pain, grief, anger, vengeance, you name it."

"I had become jaded, fighting day in and day out in battles with seemingly no end in sight," he pauses before continuing, "but you, my love, showed me that things could be different."

"That I could grow into something more than my pain and my anger, that I had a real chance at a happier life, at making amends with myself for what I’ve done."

"I'll forever be grateful for that, for you, and for our family."

You give him a heartfelt smile. "I guess we’re both lucky then." You pull him back into a kiss once more, his body settling on top of yours. It’s soft and tender—the slow smacking of lips and gentle caressing of skin as you both enjoy each other. There’s no need to rush this; there's no need to hurry for fear of a waking baby. You're able to savor the tender intimacy of this moment in bed together.

You run your foot up and down his calf as he holds you close in his arms. The passion of the kiss increases as your breathing gets heavier and quicker in succession. It's not long after that tongues get added, gliding along each other as you savor the flavor of each other’s mouth.

You're the first to pull away, dilated pupils staring back at him as you state, "I love you." He smiles softly, his eyes filling with adoration as he gazes upon your sweet face. He leans in once more, whispering just above your lips, "I love you too, sweetheart."

He gives your lips a few more pecks before he cups your jaw and lolls your head to the side, allowing him access to your neck. "I’ve missed this," he whispers into your ear, "being able to take care of you, giving you pleasure." He stays in that spot for a few moments before moving down to your neck, placing open-mouthed kisses on the sensitive skin. His tongue rolls out of his mouth, licking at any skin it can find before the kisses become a bit more aggressive. Teeth softly graze the skin of your neck before it's sucked in between his lips.

Once he's done marking up your flesh, he returns to his original spot by your ear. There’s no beating around the bush when he asks with bated breath, "Can I make love to you?" A sheepish expression adorns your face. No matter how many times the two of you have sex, Clive being so blunt with the way he asks always makes you shy.

You mumble out a "yes," and he presses a chaste kiss to your lips before he moves down your body, tugging the hem of your nightgown right below your bustline. He leans back and takes a moment to admire the sight below him. Your body is bathed in the warm, gentle glow of candlelight. The soft curves of your form are accentuated by the shadows where the light doesn’t reach.

He moves back to your body again, pressing his lips just below where the fabric of your gown is bunched around your chest. More open-mouthed kisses litter your skin before he speaks once more. "It’s been a while since we could enjoy each other like this."

"Far too long," you agree.

"Looks like we better take advantage of this then," he murmurs before resuming his efforts. 

Every roll, dip, curve, mark, and mole on your body gets lavished with the affection that his mouth and fingertips provide, worshipping your divine flesh. Clive has long since forgotten the supposed sanctity of the Eikons that have run the world into the ground for centuries. If he were to believe in anything holy, though, it’d be you, angelic in your reactions to his gentle caresses.

He lingers around the fullness of your stomach, tracing every stretch mark on your belly with his tongue as he squeezes your sides gently in his hands. "You're so beautiful, so sexy," he groans. "I love how you feel against me." The tips of his fingers skim your sides as his mouth continues its descent down your body.

When he reaches the hemline of your knickers, he jumps over to one of your thighs, continuing his kisses down your leg. This pattern continues until he's kissed up and down your legs, reaching the bikini line of your underwear. He pauses, taking note of the wet patch of arousal between your thighs. A single kiss is placed at the height of your cotton-clad mound before he's moving to take the band of your panties into his mouth and subsequently tugging them down with his teeth.

"You’re such a tease," you huff in light frustration. "Oh, you love it," he quips, smirking as he pulls the garment off your legs, tossing it on the floor. He readjusts himself on the bed, kneeling in front of your now-bent legs, and carefully pulls them apart. 

He gets on his stomach and aligns himself with your needy cunt, tossing your thighs over his shoulders. He admires the glistening arousal that coats your folds before placing another kiss on top of your mound. He's quick to lick at your inner thighs, purposely avoiding where you need him the most. His teasing continues on for a few more minutes before you whine out his name in frustration.

"I’m just trying to enjoy the moment, love."

"There’s no need to rush," he coos, his tongue lapping at your outer folds, closer than he was before but not close enough for your liking.

"I’ve missed this part the most." With every break between his statements, he kisses his way closer to your desired destination. "I've missed taking my time with you, making you fall apart with just my tongue," and with that, he finally makes contact with your slit; it's a slow drag from your quivering hole to your puffy clit. "I've missed your scent." His tongue dips back down to your entrance, the muscle slowly thrusting in and out of you, savoring every drop of arousal that graces his tastebuds. "I've missed your taste." He gathers a pool of spit behind his lips before dribbling it on your clit, smearing it around with his tongue, thoroughly soaking the surrounding hair of your mons in the process. His drool dribbles down your cunt, and he’s quick to lap it all up, enjoying the way his tongue plays with your folds. Attention is brought back to your clit once more as his tongue flicks the nub back and forth before pulling it between his lips and sucking softly.

You give a full-bodied moan as he continues to eat you out, allowing your head to hang back as you exhale in pleasure. Your fingers clutch the soft bedding beneath you, causing Clive to take notice and interlock his fingers with your own.

You begin rolling your hips in tandem with his sucks, fully indulging in the pleasure he's giving you, when, of course, he pulls away. You’re about to start making a fuss when he speaks over you. "Would you like my fingers as well?"

"Uh-huh," you pant, staring down at him in anticipation. He pushes the middle finger of his free hand into his mouth, coating it in saliva before running it in between your slit, drawing slow circles around your clit.

You whine his name, having grown tired of his antics at this point. "Alright, my love." His finger trickles back down, tracing your entrance before slowly sinking into your warm heat. "Oh yes," you moan.

His mouth returns to your clit, giving you some time to adjust to the recent intrusion. After a few more whines and pleas, he begins to thrust his finger in and out of your warm heart, curling it slightly. Your hands find solace in his hair, tugging lightly on the dark roots. The thrust of his fingers increase in intensity as he continues to finger-fuck you. Your hips buck against his face once more as the desperation to reach your peak becomes apparent.

"Look me in the eyes when you cum."

"I want to see the look on your face when I make a mess of you." His gaze is intense when you meet his eyes. You can't help but bite your lip at the sight of him moving down to suckle on your clit once more. The smolder he throws your way as he continues to pleasure you is unfairly sexy, groaning into your cunt like you're the best meal he’s ever tasted. You’re reduced to nothing but pants and high-pitched whines as your hips continue to wildly buck against his mouth.

It’s only a few short moments later that you’re pushed over the edge, mouth agape, as you reach the peak of pleasure. You're borderline overstimulated as Clive continues to suck your clit through your climax. You unconsciously squeeze your thighs against his head in an attempt to get him to stop. He gets the hint and pulls away, and a slight sheen from your wetness can be seen on his lips and facial hair.

"Do you still wish to go further?" He murmurs against your skin.

"Ye- oh shit," his head perks up at your exclamation. "What's wrong? Are you alright?" His voice takes on a worried tone.

"Nothing’s wrong; it’s just...fuck, I’m leaking." The wet splotches on the fabric of your nightgown covering your breasts are now evident. "I haven’t pumped in a while."

"Oh." There's an awkward tension in the air as you both sit in silence. Clive's the one to break the ice. "So, when you orgasm, you leak milk?"

You attempt a half-hearted laugh, wanting to crawl under the covers and hide in embarrassment. "I could help you if you want." You're quick to raise an eyebrow in response. "Huh?" He’s a bit shy with his response this time. "I could, you know, suck on them and help express the milk."

"Are you serious?"

"I can’t lie to you—the way your breasts look now, their weight and fullness—they're tantalizing."

"I’ve been desperate to taste your milk straight from its source."

"Fuck, Clive" is all you can manage to say.

"Is that a yes?"

"Yes."

To say that you hadn’t also thought of Clive sucking the milk from your tits would be a lie. Excitement builds in the room as he stands up; his arousal is apparent as his erection shows through his clothes. He pulls off his sleep shirt along with the trousers, leaving him in his underwear. He crawls on the bed towards you, pulling you onto his lap to straddle him. The two of you meet in the middle for a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips.

He's slow to grind you against his still-covered shaft, guiding your hips back and forth while enjoying the sounds of your pants in each other's mouths. A bead of precum seeps through his underwear, where the head of his cock still lingers. The wet spots on your nightgown grow in size as your breast continues to leak from repeated pleasure.

Clive's hands run along the path of your legs to the now-fallen hemline of your gown, silently asking if he can remove the barrier that separates you from the sweetness. You give a simple nod, and he slowly pulls the fabric up your body, making sure you feel the drag of his fingers linger on your skin. The gown is pulled off your body and tossed off the side of the bed. The fullness of your breasts is much more apparent now that you’re sitting upright in front of him.

You drink each other in as you're enveloped in the warm, flickering light. He’s still just as handsome as when you first met him, with his kind bedroom eyes and gentle affections that are reserved for just you.

He looks upon your body with adoration—your thicker thighs, the swell of your hips, the way your belly hangs. A lovesick look crosses his features, sweetness filling his eyes when he tells you, "You’re the most beautiful woman to ever grace this planet." You know he's telling the truth; his warm hands knead the sides of your body as if to give the statement more weight. 

Your hand reaches down to palm his cock through his underwear. The touch is light and gentle, causing his breath to hitch. You pull his hardened length through the band of his underwear, lightly pumping him up in your hand. After tugging the material of his underwear further down his legs, you sit yourself a bit higher on his lap, lining him up with your entrance.

The sound of your combined groans can be heard as you slowly inch yourself down on his cock. He fills you up deliciously, just as he always has, just as he always will.

You take a moment to settle yourself, his hands rubbing soothingly up and down your back, your head resting on his shoulder. Another confession of "I love you" is swapped between the two of you as you meet for another sweet kiss.

Your hips begin to roll back and forth while you're impaled on his cock. Clive takes this time to tenderly work at your breasts, gently massaging the swollen tissue. Airy, dulcet tones of enjoyment fall from your lips. He gently pinches your nipples, and droplets of milk dribble from your nipples, causing him to lick his lips. He leans his head closer to your chest, his mouth hovering over it. "Can I?"

"Uh-huh," you nod.

Your efforts on his cock speed up as you begin to bounce on him with slightly more vigor. He laps at the droplets that fall from your breasts before slowly licking around your areola. One of his arms braces you against him as you continue to ride him, and the other works its way down to your bum, squeezing the supple flesh.

The moment of truth finally arrives. Clive engulfs your nipple in his mouth and sucks lightly. Bursts of milk squirt into his mouth, and he's quick to gulp down every last drop.

"Mmf."

He continues to drain the excess milk from your breast, sucking and swallowing everything you can offer before switching over to the other. "Founder, you're so fucking hot," you say as you peer down at him while he mouths at your untouched tit.

"Yeah? You enjoy watching me drink from your breast, sucking on your sweet tits?"

You clench down on him hard, practically suffocating his cock as you drag your cunt up and down his shaft. A part of you feels dirty for enjoying this, enjoying the way your lover looks as he suckles your tit and watching the excess milk dribble from the corners of his mouth down to the rest of his body. You can’t deny its appeal as more of your wetness coats his cock.

"Yeah," you whine, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, feeling flustered as you become desperate in your movements, wiggling your arm down your torso to rub at your clit. "Naughty girl," he murmurs against your skin before taking the other nipple into his mouth, repeating the same process he did previously.

The efforts on your clit accelerate as you move against him. The muscles of your thigh and core burn as your rhythm on his cock continues, and your mewls for him grow in volume. "Clive, I can’t, my legs-" he detaches himself from your breast at the sound, pulling you into his chest. He reaches both hands down to your bum, spreading both cheeks as he plants his feet on the bed and batters into your cunt, thrusting in and out with intense vigor. 

A slew of whines escapes you, begging him to get you to completion. Your cheek rests on the crux of his neck and shoulder while he continues to fuck you mercilessly. Your fingers are relentless on your clit, smearing you and Clive's joint slick all around.

Both your drool and breast milk start to leak down onto his chest, creating delicious, slick friction as your bodies rub against each other. "Cum on my cock, sweetheart; you deserve it."

"Come on, it’s all for you." After a few more harsh thrusts and circles around your clit, you sob into his shoulder, wildly rutting your hips against his navel, extending the peak of your pleasure for as long as you can. You fully collapse onto him, your creamy cunt pumping and milking his cock for everything it has. It’s only a few short moments later that he delivers his final sloppy thrusts before filling you with his seed.

You’re both sweaty and spent as you lay in each other's arms, the sounds of your labored breathing echoing throughout the room.

"I love you," Clive says as he presses a kiss on your forehead.

"I love you too," you mumble before reaching to peck him on the lips. You snuggle up against him before asking, "So... what does my milk taste like?"

He gives an airy laugh before responding. "It actually tasted quite good."

"I wasn't sure what to expect, but it was surprisingly sweet and rather warm."

"Well," you say amusedly, "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself."

"I wasn’t the only one who enjoyed myself," he teases, smirking down at you. "Yeah, yeah," you grumble, attempting to hide your embarrassment as you bury your face into his chest.

"Come on, love," he chuckles, rubbing his arm up and down your back. "Let's get cleaned up and ready for bed."

[asleepinawell]

Chapter 5: Unwanted Interruptions

Rating: T

Pairing: Hades/Hyth

Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV

Chapters: 5/7

Summary:

Set after the events of Past Perfect. After having travelled to the future from Elpis, Hades and Hythlodaeus are adjusting to living in the Warrior of Light’s time period. Between dealing with all they have lost, and trying to learn and change enough to be able to return to the past and save their world they have more than enough to deal with, but perhaps they can find something else along the way. Relationship/character study.

In which Estinien doesn’t understand how doors work.

[souridealist]

Her mother — Elmyra. Someone to keep me company while you’re away. Is that your name, little one? A child’s voice: he wasn’t my father. A man’s voice: they’re never going to let me near my daughter again. Two arbiters swirling, swirling, frantic, light shining through them.

A dark-haired figure in a long dark coat striding out of a crumbling mansion, striding through an untouched town to the mountain road. Strange light, and madness in green eyes.

3.5K, M, graphic violence & character death; draws on both original & remake continuities. Gen, focused on Aerith and Sephiroth. Aerith dreams of a world where she and Sephiroth play different roles.

Behind-the-scenes commentary after the cut!

This one’s a weird one! I have no idea how possible it is to gain a coherent sense of events in the other timeline. Hopefully less than zero?

Title is from T.S. Eliot’s “The Waste Land,” which I learned in titling this was Eliot quoting Charles Baudelaire. I absolutely do not claim to actually understand what the fuck is going on in The Waste Land, but it, like this fic, is a melancholy surreal tumble of images, and I’ve seen this line translated as my double, my brother, which is exactly the kind of thing I was going for.

Anyway, this is partly about me wanting to sort of underline that I don’t think anyone would come out of Sephiroth’s upbringing sane, and partly me really loving Aerith’s particular streak of ruthless practicality and wanting to poke at it. Turns out I think villain!Aerith would be really scary.

Why is Sephiroth Gainsborough a dancer? So, another Aerith fact I love is the way that her flowers, and her florist business, are a lovely but also extremely mundane and pragmatic use of her Cetra abilities. I wanted Sephiroth’s version of that, and he’s not a Cetra, but he has enhanced strength, reflexes, and dexterity, he tends to be animated with serious grace, and he has an impeccable flair for the dramatic. How can you use those to make a living, besides mercenary work? Dance.