xxladyballadxx · 1 year ago
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𝓞𝓹𝓮𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓤𝓹
Joshua Rosfield x reader
Note: The reader being depressed and all, thinking she's a bad person just because she has done terrible things in her life(⌣̩̩́_⌣̩̩̀)
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‘You’re a fucking monster!’
‘Why are you still alive?!’
‘YOU SHOULD BE DEAD!’
‘YOU KILL US ALL!’
Every day and night, you hear the raging voices of the people in your hollowed mind. Angered and terrified by you. The part where you were forced to kill their loved ones. Men, women. Even children. Bringing terror to every village and town. That was when you were brainwashed and working with Lord Barnabas and Benedikta Harman. They forced you to kill people, the innocents. Picking the targets for you to track down. 
This one time, you were given the task to annihilate the outlaws and the dominant of Phoenix. Clive, Jill and Joshua. The people who were your friends back in Rosaria. When they first encountered you, they couldn’t believe their own eyes. Clive believed you to be dead. Jill thought so too.
Joshua, however, knew you would be alive somehow. They remembered you but you don’t remember them. Your mind was completely foggy and hollow, you couldn't remember anything since you weren’t utterly yourself at that time. Since The King of Waloed brainwashed you. Everything happened so fast…
~
The next day, you avoided everyone at the hideaway. Not making eye contact with them while doing something important. Including Clive, Jill and even Joshua. 
Jill grew worried about your well-being and tried to speak to you. You pushed Jill away and told her to leave you alone. You did the exact same thing to Clive. You didn’t want to talk about what’s going on in your mind. 
You stumbled into your room with your dark mind conquering you. Locking the door so nobody comes in. You slumped into your bed and sunk yourself down in a bottle of wine.
As you continue to drink every sip of wine, your mind wanders off elsewhere, falling into a pit of darkness. Screaming of terror made its way into that hole, causing you more suffering. All of these angry voices of people…
‘MY WIFE! MY CHILDREN! YOU KILLED THEM ALL!’
Their rage, their anger…dragging you all the way down to hell…
‘A MONSTER LIKE YOU DOESN’T DESERVE TO LIVE!’
‘You’re a murderer and murderers don’t deserve a second chance!’
“Stop, please, no fucking more…” you mumbled, you held your head down to the floor with hands placed on your forehead. You just couldn’t take it anymore.
‘YOU KILLED MY FUCKING FAMILY!’
‘YOU MONSTER!’
‘Please…PLEASE SPARE US!’
All these voices faded when someone came knocking on your door, “(Name)?” Joshua called out to you, he wishes to come in and speak to you, “(Name)? Are you in there?”
You growled in irritation, finishing off that darn bottle of wine and smashed it on the floor furiously, watching it shatter into pieces. “Just go away…” 
“(Name), please, let me in…” you could tell by the sound of Joshua’s voice that he was gravely worried, “I want to talk to you..”
You slam your hands on your bed in anger and walk your way to open the door for Joshua. He stepped straight inside after you decided to let him in. Joshua spotted the broken pieces of a bottle of wine on the floor. He looked up to you in worry as you closed the door. 
You sat back down on your bed, not looking Joshua in the eye. “(Name)...I couldn’t help but notice you giving everyone a cold shoulder. Even Clive and Jill.” Joshua continued on, expressing a sign of concern, “Everyone here is extremely worried about you, (Name).”
“Okay so?” you spoke in a cold tone which caused him to get more agitated. Joshua shakes his head disapprovingly, “How long are you going to keep acting like this? How long are you going to keep pushing everyone away?” Joshua stumbled over to sit with you, “...Including me..?”
He won’t give up until you tell him what’s making you feel this way. Joshua wishes for you to open up to him. But the very sad thing is; you really don’t like talking about what’s troubling you so much. To anyone. 
“Joshua, I rather not talk about it…” you told him, still not looking him in the eye. “The more you keep those feelings inside, the more it gets worse.” Joshua places his hand onto your shoulder, he could tell that you were suffering and wishes to make it go away, “(Name), please look at me…” 
And so you turned to face him directly, his eyes looking deeply into yours, “I know you have done terrible things in the past. I know that wasn’t you. It was Barnabas, he brainwashed you and used you. Forcing you to kill innocent people.” Joshua consoled you, trying to tell you that it wasn’t completely your fault. 
“...I will never forget what I did.” You were slowly opening up to Joshua, even though you didn’t want to at first but you wanted to pour your emotions out “I’ve killed a thousand innocents. I remember them screaming and crying, begging for mercy. Even the children. When they look me in the eye, all they fucking see…is an killer, a monster…”  
Your words fell hard on Joshua, he couldn’t imagine what it was like for you when you were being controlled by King Barnabas, “I can’t make it all go away. The past still haunts me. It will always haunt me. Stuck in a fucking loop with no way out.”
“(Name)...” Joshua held your hand into his as he continued to listen to you talking about the terrible things you did in the past. 
“I also remembered seeing blood on the wall after slaughtering them…” you recalled the moment where you just looked at the dead bodies and walked away after you completed your mission. 
“I have nightmares every single night, I hear voices every single day. The voices of the people whom I terrify the life out of them. I even hear the cries of the dead family. I can still hear them. Everytime I go out, people look at me and back away in terror. They remembered my face and threw stones at me.” you carried on opening up more to Joshua, tears visibly appearing on your face. “I walked out of there and found a quiet spot to cry silently.”
Joshua gestured his arm behind your back and held you close, you leaned your head onto his shoulder and wept, “Do I deserve to live? Do I deserve a fucking second chance?” you questioned in sorrow, you felt your heart falling apart. 
“You believe you’re a terrible person, just because you’ve done horrible things. I don’t see that in you at all. Just because you’ve done something truly wrong, doesn’t make you a bad person.” Joshua held his hand up and wiped your tears away using his thumb, “Just remember, (Name), you are not alone. For I am here for you always.” 
“...thank you, Joshua…” you said it so quietly but Joshua was able to hear it loud and clear. Joshua moved your hand to his lips and kissed the knuckles of it, “Despite those terrible doings of your past, I never stopped loving you.” You smiled sweetly at his words and kissed the corners of his lips, “I’m glad that… you’re here with me.”
Joshua motioned his head close to kiss you, “I will never leave you, (Name). Never.”
(A/n) - Still blaming @aria-lesage for getting me so much into angsty fanfics. I shall continue to write more ANGSTY ffxvi fanfics in future.
UNTIL NEXT TIME ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
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olessan · 1 year ago
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BENJAMIN...
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telamons · 1 year ago
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"You came!"
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drabblesandimagines · 1 year ago
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Prescription
Clive Rosfield x fem reader Fluffy fluff, bit of injury
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“Nearly there,” Clive murmurs as you take another painful step towards the infirmary. You think the words are more for his benefit that this ordeal is nearly over. Ever the chivalrous gentleman, he’d offered to carry you multiple times, but you’d refused his offer and, being Clive, he was hardly going to go against a lady’s wishes.
You know he’s probably confused as to why you’d refuse his assistance. You’ve bested men twice your size in battle, so it can’t be that you’re worried you’ll appear weak, that if Otto, Gav or the other Cursebreakers catch sight of you being carried back to the Hideaway in his arms they’ll mollycoddle you for weeks. It’s perhaps more embarrassing than that – it’s the thought of being held in his muscular arms, against his chest that already sets your heart pounding, a flush to your cheeks… And if that’s the sort of effect the thought had on your body, you dread to think what actually being in his arms will result in.
Besides, your injuries weren’t that bad… once Clive had compressed them with bandages from his pouch and you hadn’t even been that far from the docks when it had occurred. You could make it to the boat and then up to the infirmary at the Hideaway without any need to be cradled in your crush’s arms.
Clive had compromised on you leaning against him, your arm around his waist, your fingers gripped into the laces down the side, and his arm hooked around your upper back, taking the majority of the weight off your injured leg and side. You’re just hoping if he can feel your heart pounding, he’ll think it’s the adrenaline from the fight and injury wearing off.
They were injuries you’d taken defending him, to his horror. As the two of you had walked back down the slope towards the small dock where Obolus was waiting in his skiff, a lone Black Shield had lunged out of the undergrowth, his sword straight at Clive’s neck. As you drew your blade from your side, you’d elbowed Clive back, him stumbling down the slope as yours and the assailant’s blade clashed but the momentum he had built sent you spinning, and he’d got a good slice in your hip. Stopping your momentum, you’d managed to get him in his shoulder, pushing him down onto his knees before he got another swipe at your calf and then your blade swiped across his throat. It was all over in a matter of seconds, Clive’s sword only just drawn as he stumbled back up the hill.
Torgal whines, sensing your discomfort. He’d been waiting at the dock as the boat had pulled in, Obolus commenting that he hoped your blood hadn’t stained the timber.
“Oh, Torgal, don’t you start.” You pout down at the wolf.
“What happened?” Jill’s panicked voice comes from the level above, hurrying down the flight of stairs to meet you at the infirmary door.
“It’s not-“
“It is not nothing.” Clive growls, though you know it’s in frustration at himself. “She sustained it defending me.” Jill gives you an exasperated look before pushing the door open, holding it wide for the two of you enter. Tarja is leant over a desk, swiveling her head round at the noise of company.
Her eyes narrow as she sees the blood-stained bandages around your leg and side, before she sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose in exasperation.
“Honestly, Clive, you made her walk?”
“I did no such thing. She refused to let me carry her.”
“Well, I’m overruling that refusal.” Tarja comments, pointing to a bed. Clive doesn’t hesitate then – Tarja always got her way - swiftly hooking his arm under your knees, though mindful not to touch your wound, and sweeps you up, resulting in your half-gasped protest. He strides over to the bed in what feels like two steps – your heart hammering - and places you down gently.
“See, wouldn’t that have been much easier?”
“Where’s the fun in that?” You say lightly, as he hovers over you perhaps a moment too long. He forces a smile – one you’ve seen when he’s pretending to be care-free.
“Right, Clive – out.” Tarja orders, gathering a tray of medical supplies to bring over to the bed.
“Right. Erm… Take care. Send word if you need anything, or…”
“Out.” Tarja reiterates.
He raises his hand in acknowledgement and strides out – his shoulders sagging as he does.
Tarja makes quick work of removing the soiled bandages, mumbling under her breath – curses at your stubbornness, you suspect, but you leave her to her work and stay still like a good patient.
“Jill, I think these trousers and shirt are done for. Can you see if Hortense has anything spare?”
“Of course.” Jill smiles. “I’ll be back shortly.”
You hear the door shut and continue to stare up at the ceiling, breathing in and out as Tarja moves on to cleaning your wounds with a rather stinging concoction.
“Good news, you’ll live.” She leans back from your bedside and turns to the tray, retrieving some items.
“That sounds like there’s bad news…”
“Well…” Tarja holds aloft the needle and thread. “The bad news is you’ll need stitches.”
“Ah.”
“Deep breath and we’ll get started.”
It shouldn’t, you know it shouldn’t, but the needle piercing into your flesh hurts more than the sword that caused the injury did and you tense.
“Deep breath. First one’s the worst.”
Except it wasn’t, not for you. After a few more reminders to breathe, the healer lets out an exasperated sigh.
“You’re too tense,” Tarja chides, leaning back. “You need to relax, otherwise the stitches will be too taut and it’ll split the second you take a step.”
“Sorry, Tarja, it’s not exactly a relaxing activity.”
“Do you want me to call for Clive to hold your hand?” The door opens. “Oh, maybe he could unbutton his shirt as a distraction…”
“Who, Clive?” Jill’s voice teases.
“Stop it, it’s not like that.”
“Mm-hm.” The two women are synchronized and you can feel your face burning. Besides, if anything, Clive with an unbuttoned shirt would make you more tense…
“Hortense says she thinks she can salvage your clothes, but she had a spare dress she reckons will fit you until then.” Jill appears above you, holding up a plain blue dress. It’ll do, certainly. You doubt you’ll be out on any assignments the rest of the week.
“Thank you.”
Tarja places the needle down on the tray and gets to her feet, heading over to the apothecary drawers and rummaging through one. She returns with a small vial.
“Right, drink.”
“What is it?”
“It’ll make you relax, that’s all. Non-drowsy.”
You pop the cork off – the thing smells foul – but you know you’re in trouble with Tarja enough now so you do as you’re told, downing it in one.
A minute or so later, you feel your muscles unconsciously relax, releasing a lot of tension in places you weren’t aware you had it. Tarja murmurs her approval and sets to work stitching up your wounds in no time, before applying a salve and new bandages and helping you out of your blood-stained clothes and into your borrowed dress with no protest. Not for want of trying but her look enough when you’d opened your mouth as she told you to put your arms up was enough.
“Stay.” The red-head orders and gets to her feet, taking the tray with her to be sanitized.
“How do you feel?” Jill asks, as kind as ever. She’s by your bedside, folding up your ruined clothes. You can sense she’s itching to get them to Hortense.
“Fine. It’s not a big deal.” You shrug lightly – your tone a little lighter than you’d wanted it to be. “Can’t I go now?”
“No, you need to wait for that relaxant to wear off. You stand up and your legs will collapse under you like a flan.” Tarja calls over. “Stay in bed.” The door opens. “Well, well, well,” Gav’s voice. “I should’ve known you were in here… given the welcome I got from our beloved leader.”
“What welcome?”
“Gav, this isn’t the tavern – this is the infirmary.” The healer chides.
“But it’s not safe at the Tub and Crown.” Gav approaches your bed, placing his hands on his hips. “Clive’s hunting down a sparring partner and it’s not going to be me with that attitude. He’s got the same look in his eyes the last time you got hurt and he splintered all the training swords.”
“Well, the lady here wouldn’t let him carry her.” Jill reveals. “I’ll take these clothes to Hortense.” She heads towards the door, clutching the cloth to her chest.
“Oh, you’ll have wounded his pride with that!” Gav chuckles. “What with his court manners, ever the chivalrous gent. Why wouldn’t you indulge the poor man – I thought he’d caught your fancy, no?”
“Gav, no, that’s not… Shush.” You protest, though the colour in your cheeks betrays you once more.
“You should let him out of his bloody misery – we all know he’s not going to be the first, so you’ve got to be the brave one.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Tarja joins Gav at your bedside, placing her hands on her hips once more. “Please. The whole Hideaway knows by now. Even Otto asked me what the hold-up was.”
“The Hideaway is wrong.” You bite your lip and the next sentence comes out in a tumble of words before you can even really think about it. “Besides… if I confessed I’d just embarrass myself – he’s Clive Rosfield.”
“And?”
“And I’m me, Gav.” “Yes, you – a former Branded Bearer turned Cursebreaker, defender of the previous Hideaway, scourge of the Black Shields…” Gav lists off your achievements, sounding incredulous with every word that comes out of his mouth.
“Exactly.” You nod. “Me.”
“Not seeing your point. Don’t tell me you’re scared of sharing your feelings but you’ll go stare down a Morbol easy as anything on a morning.”
“You know, I think she is,” Tarja teases.
“Maybe you could send it in a missive, if you’re too scared of face-to-face. Leave it on his desk, like.”
“Or get Gaute to put it in the reports – he’s always checking those.”
“Yeah, or stick it on the bulletin board…!”
“Okay, fine!” Tarja and Gav pause in their banter and stare at you, smiles still plastered on their faces. “How about I walk up to him at the Cursebreakers' intelligence briefing and tell him that my heart pounds wherever he glances in my direction? What about I stand up on a table at the Tub and Crown and tell him about how it feels like lightning is shooting through my veins for days after any touch we share? How about I meet him in the training pit and tell him I would gladly stand in front of an enemy blade every single day if it meant that he was safe and unharmed.” Your voice is getting louder, your emotions bubbling to the surface, your tongue so relaxed it has a mind of its own. You slide over in the bed, hanging your legs off the side. You can tell Tarja wants to interrupt but you’re on too much of a roll.
“How about I walk into Clive Rosfield’s chambers and announce that I’m in love with him, that I have been for years? That when I lay in bed my thoughts are consumed with him and that low-cut shirt, those broad shoulders and how much I wish he’d take me in his arms and…”
“I did offer - multiple times - and you declined.”
Your heart skips a beat at the sound of Clive’s voice from the door and you freeze. No, no, no.
“I think that’s my cue.” Gav chuckles, slapping his thighs and getting to his feet, Tarja following. Maybe you could faint? That would make Tarja stay…
The healer pauses, placing a hand on Clive’s shoulder. “Be kind, Clive. I gave her a relaxant for the stitches. I think it relaxed her tongue perhaps a little more than she’d like.”
“Noted.” Why does he sound so amused? She whispers something in his ear and you hear her and Gav’s footsteps leave the infirmary.
You can’t move, can’t look up – horrified of what is about to happen.
His footsteps sound painfully slow until you see his boots by the side of the bed and he crouches down in front of you, trying to catch your gaze. His gloved fingers grasp your chin, gently, tilting your head up to meet his eyes when you refuse.
“Shouldn’t you be lying down? I believe Tarja hasn’t discharged you yet.”
He lets go, a soft smile on his face, as you swallow and shuffle back, carefully, lifting your legs back on the bed and resting your back against the pillow.
There’s a moment of silence before you find your voice. “Clive, what you heard…”
“Is that why you wouldn’t allow me to carry you earlier?”
“Kind of. I just… It would’ve been…” You’re completely tongue-tied. How can you get yourself out of this hole? Why is he smiling?!
“I cannot tell you how long my thoughts have been consumed with ones such as you in my arms… my darling.”
Your breath catches in your throat.
“Though I must clarify not because you are injured, but I’m upset you’d deny me of the pleasure all the same. I do, however, wish it hadn’t taken you getting injured and a concoction of Tarja’s to hear you boldly return my feelings.” You’re still too stunned to speak.
“May I request a kiss of my beloved?”
A realization hits you. “I died, didn’t I?”
“Let me reassure you this is very real.” He leans forward, placing his palm on your cheek and a chaste kiss on your lips. There’s a delicious smirk on his face as he leans back.
“No, I’m… I’m not sure I felt that, you should reassure me again.”
Clive chuckles, taking your hand and rubbing his fingers over your knuckles.
“I’m afraid your physician only permitted me the one kiss in your recovery, but once you’re discharged…”
By the Mothers.
--
I love him. Asks are open for requests - FF16 characters hit me up x
Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-fi
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puppetbomb · 2 months ago
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Treasure Trove Ch. 4
Why you have so much armor Clive ;v;
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robo-writing · 1 year ago
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Words Unspoken, Actions Taken
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Pairing: Clive Rosfield/Reader (AFAB, female pronouns. no Y/N) Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors DNI Word Count: 1.9k words Summary: After Clive returns from another mission battered and bruised you finally give him a piece of your mind. He doesn't take too kindly to your words. Read on AO3! Warnings: Dom! Clive, angry sex, elements of degradation, p in v actions, unprotected sex, fluff (if you squint) Author's Note: Hey y'all, the world was sorely lacking in Clive fics, so I'm doing my part to change that. I love this depressed man and his slutty little waist too much to NOT write for him. Spoilers for a certain character's death, so if you haven't gotten that far, don't read ahead. Update: There's a sequel now!
You’re not surprised you ended up like this, quite the opposite in fact. Clive Rosfield, also known as Cid, your faithful leader and the very symbol of hope to every lost soul who found their way under his wing. A beacon to guide them towards a better life, and to change the world for the better. The very same leader who regularly risked his life for the greater good, much to your dismay, without so much as any concern to himself. 
He was already somewhat of an errand boy when you had first met him, but after Cid died it grew tenfold. The hideaway, the resistance, the increase of bearer violence, it was all too much. He told you as much after you found him one night drinking alone in his room, a hushed confession under the cover of night that without you he wouldn’t have made it this far and you’d be a liar if the memory didn’t make you feel some kind of way. Despite that, he kept on shouldering more and more responsibility, to the point that it was commonplace to have him leave for days on end, returning one day only to be gone the next. It was concerning to the other residents, but most of all to you. 
You admired his efforts, truly. It was noble, but eventually it would catch up to him. You tried to tell him as much, but he would just wave you away and reassure you that he can handle himself.
You’ve seen him fight, you’re well aware of his talents with a blade, but all the training in the world can’t substitute a good night's rest. What happens if he worked himself to death, found himself behind enemy lines and never returned? 
You couldn’t stand to think about it. You worried about him, and in your worry you found yourself growing resentful of his apparent ignorance towards his own well-being. But you held your tongue, forced to keep your emotions to yourself because if nothing else, having him worry about you would only serve to be another item on his long list of responsibilities. You tried, you really did. And then he came back from a mission beaten to hell. Tarja, talented as she was, only barely brought him back from the brink. He was in bed rest for weeks before he was allowed to leave, and in that time your resentment grew to anger. Was it immature? Yes. Did you care? Not particularly. Your attitude change was obvious to anyone in the Hideaway, most of all to Clive, but he figured you were just in a mood, maybe something had happened while he was recovering. In any case, you two were close, you would tell him eventually. It was only after he returned from his latest life-threatening mission that he realized that you were mad at him. Again, you tried to hold yourself back, but when you saw how ignorant he was you couldn’t take it anymore. Words were said, some of which came from a place of genuine care. The others, however… “You’re an idiot if you think I’m going to stand by and watch you kill yourself—” You hissed at him, pacing around the floor of his office. It was there the two of you stood, a back and forth with no end. “I need to carry on his name, his legacy—” He raises his voice before stopping himself to take a shaky breath. “I need to live up to his dream. Don’t you understand that?” “Oh I understand plenty,” You fume. You’re not quite sure where this malice came from, but it was all consuming, ever burning. “Don’t you know that I—we need you here? Alive?” He shakes his head and he says something about his duty and his obligations and you’re completely over it, obviously anything you say is going in one ear and out the other. “Do you think Cid would want you to work yourself to death?” You ask, concern written on your face. “Do you think he’d be proud to see you take no care to yourself?” He doesn’t even look at you anymore, his head bowed. “If it’s for the good of the cause—” You interrupt him before he can say another word. “If you genuinely believe that then you’ll end up dead, and his sacrifice would’ve been for nothing.” The silence that follows is deafening. His footsteps ring heavy in your ears, moving closer and closer. “What did you just say?” The anger in his voice is apparent. You’ve never seen him like this before, a rage normally reserved for his enemies directed towards you.
You probably should’ve stopped, but you didn’t. “I said, if you truly believe that then you’re wasting the chance Cid gave you.” You look up at him unwavering, consequences be damned. He needed to hear this. Clive stood unmoving, an unknown emotion swirling in those vibrant blue eyes of his. “Be careful of what you say next.” And then it broke. The dam holding everything you held back before shattering into pieces and before you knew it you were awash with emotion. “You’re a bastard Clive, if you truly can’t see how you’re hurting the people around you by acting like a complete fucking idiot, then you don’t deserve his legacy or his name.” You wanted him to get mad, wanted him to feel the way you’ve felt for a while now. What happens next is a blur, limbs entangled and skin exposed, but based on how fast the front of your body met the desk, you met your goal. “Couldn’t just keep your mouth shut, fuck—,” He hisses above you, but you’re too far gone to care. You have been for a while, too lost in the feeling of his hands against your hips, his cock dragging against you deliciously. “Just had to keep testing me—” It’s almost embarrassing how easily you let him have his way with you. Your body completely under his control, every gasp of his name only serving to feed his ego, encouraging him to go faster, harder, more, more, more—
“Clive—!” “That’s right, say my fucking name—” If the squeaking of the old wooden desk he’s taken you on wasn’t already a sign of what was happening in the room, the shameless moans escaping your lips would be. “Let the entire hideaway know whose cock you’re begging for.”
You do, without any thought to how loud you may be.
The force of his thrusts are brutal against your backside, your body aching and yet you can’t stop moving, desperately trying to meet his every thrust. It’s hopeless, but he seems to enjoy your attempts at least, a wicked chuckle escaping him as he watches your body move on his own. “Is this what you wanted, hm? To be used like a pleasure girl?” His body is pressed against your back now, the full weight of him blanketed against you. Your breath catches in your throat, his lips whispering absolute filth into your ear. “Upset you couldn’t have me all to yourself? Don’t worry, I’m right here.” His tone is cruel, mocking. “I’ll make sure you never have to worry again.”
He doesn’t stop moving, how could he when you sound absolutely debauched below him, a picture perfect image of sin to be molded by his own hands. He fucks you just as he fights, ferocious, unyielding, unrelenting, finding every single one of your weaknesses and taking advantage of them until you cry out that it’s too much, that you can’t take it, and doesn’t give you a moment of reprieve. A glutton of your own making. He laughs, a sound so far separated from his normal self that you almost don’t recognize it as him. “Come now darling, you were ready to spit venom at me before, where’s all that fire gone?” He breathes unevenly, a hand moving to push your head further down. He’s taunting you, dangling your own shameful display in front of your very eyes. Even if you wanted to respond you couldn’t, the sound of your hips meeting, echoing through the room proved answer enough. “Clive—fuck—please ‘m sorry—” Your body is racked with shudders, whimpering when he runs a single hand down your spine, forcing you to arch even further and have him reach that spot inside you that has you seeing stars. “What was that? I don’t think I quite heard you.” He sneers from above. You mumble into the desk, unable to bring your head up to speak. “I’m sorry, please, can’t take it, too much, pleasepleaseplease—”
A hand around your throat silences you, his lips grazing against your ear once more. “Oh no, I don’t believe that for a second.”
He lets you go, only for that same hand to grab your face, fingers pressing against your cheeks. He forces your tear-rimmed eyes to gaze at him from below, a contrast to the sinister look in his own. “Can’t take it? Too much? I don’t think that’s true—” Another hard thrust has you keening, back arching, a fog of lust clouding your brain. “—I think you’re going to take everything I give and more.” He’s right of course, and you do, graciously. Your legs threaten to give out, shaking, barely holding on, and in an act of mercy he grabs your weakened limbs with a strong hand. Practically a rag doll at this point, he lays you onto the desk, legs wrapped around his body to bring him as close as possible. You can see him in this position, see the way his brows crease and furrow every time you clench onto his cock, the pleased grin that lingers when you grab onto his arms, seeking purchase. It’s filthy. Clive doesn’t think he’s seen anything more beautiful.
To watch his advisor fall apart at his hands, to drown in waves of pleasure begging for more, please, I need more—
It’s addicting, sadistic in ways he never thought himself capable of. He can’t get enough. A painful dance of give and take. He gives pleasure and takes your very sanity with it. He takes and takes until you’ve nothing left to give, until you’re a writhing mess of slurred words and half-mumbled promises. He can barely understand you at this point, your mind far away, but he doesn’t need to. He can understand your body well enough. “Clive, please—” You gasp, nails dragging deliciously against his back. You don’t have to speak, he knows what you want before you do. Without another second of hesitation his fingers move vigorously against your sensitive nub, and if he thought you were gone before the feeling of his deft hands working against your sex send you to new heights. The choked noise that escapes you is downright heavenly. “Gods above—!”
He’d be flattered if he wasn’t so busy fucking you into next week. Sweat clings onto your skin, and for a moment he conjures up an image of an angel, the sheen highlighting you in such a way you almost seem to glow. And then he watches your eyes roll, feels your pussy clench against his cock and you fall over the edge with his name on your lips like a prayer, and thinks to himself that you’re more of a devil than a saint.  Your breathing is ragged, completely spent, nearly delirious with desire.
But nearly is not enough for him.
So his hips still grind against you, and you’re far too weak to resist him, not that you would have in the first place. A give and take, and Clive was always a little greedy.
“We’re not done yet, my dear. Not by a long shot.”
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rosf1eld · 29 days ago
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Reunited at last…
(Joshua Rosfield x reader)
fluff?
summary: Joshua searched for you, the dominant of Leviathan, his love.
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Joshua had travelled to a distant village, one where the dominant of leviathan was said to be spotted.
could it be…? this time…
Joshua only hoped. After all the leads he had followed to no avail, he was growing tired. He was losing hope…but no he couldn’t give up, not ever.
If there was even a tiny chance he could see his love again, he would take it.
He had been searching secretly in the shadows through the village, still he couldn’t find a thing. Finally he had ended up in a secluded spot, somewhere by the shore.
A defeated sigh escaped his lips.
could this be it? would he never find his love again?
“Don’t take another step.”
Your sharp tone caught the man off guard. The side of your sword aligned with his neck.
You weren’t stupid, you had noticed the unfamiliar presence snooping around.
“m-my lady…please-“
The young lord tensed up as your angry tone cut him off.
“Who are you and what do you want?!”
Your gaze burned through the back of his head.
“You mistake me my lady!”
He spoke nervously his hands up in surrender even though his back was faced to you.
“Then speak.”
A sigh of relief escaped the man as you lowered your sword. He finally turned to face you…
no…no…no…it couldn’t be? it can’t be…?
Your cold composure faltered, eyes widening at the sight of him.
His eyes softened, a warm smile appearing on his lips.
“it truly is you…”
Joshua breathed, “When I heard word of the dominant of Leviathan…I knew…I knew it would be you…”
You felt as if your world had regained color, as if your will had returned.
“Joshua…”
You let out a shakey exhale. You hadn’t even noticed how much you were shaking, the sword gripped in your hand suddenly fell to the floor. A loud clang echoed which soon mixed with your footsteps, you ran to his arms.
The familiar scent hit you has your arms tightened around him.
“…I thought i’d never see you again.”
His soft voice spoke into you as he held you closely. He kissed the top of your head.
You tried to respond, but only got choked up. Your arms tightened around him and you buried your face into his neck.
You felt alive again…
•a/n•
not proofread again i’m too lazy.
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rei-is-hiding · 1 year ago
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me the entire time
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multi-fandom-imagine · 1 year ago
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«Please || Clive Rosfield ||
prompt used:
[ STOP ]  for sender to try and walk away,  afraid they’re going to get their heart broken but receiver grabs their wrist and pulls them back in for a kiss. 
[ NEEDED ] sender approaches receiver and kisses them longer and more passionately than they ever have before.
A/n:Has nothing to do with the events in the game,I gotta wait until Friday to play but I had to write something for him.
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He was a Marquess, it was what his mother constantly reminded you of…she said it out of love of course, she would hate to see such a pretty face get hurt.
You knew it was a lie, she just saw you as an embarrassment for her son.Yet that did not matter to you because Clive loved you or at least you thought he did. You hated how her words started affecting you, you hated seeing the hurt in his eyes when you kept making excuses to stop seeing him and it seemed Clive has gotten sick of it.
Your name rang throughout the halls, you did your best not to flinch as you slowly turned your body around to face the man. “Clive…I…I really must be going.”
Turing your body around, you start to walk away only to feel a hand grasp your wrist. Your body pressing against his, you felt your cheeks grow warm as you felt his lips pressing against yours. Breaking the kiss he then cupped your cheek, his thumb gliding across your cheek. “Please do not walk away from me, if this is about my mother then I do not care what she say’s I do not care what she thinks. I love you.”
You hated hearing how broken he sounded, you didn’t want that. “Clive…are you sure?! you know I come from nothing.”
“You will never be nothing to me.”
Letting his fingers weave through your hair, you melted into the kiss. Your lips parting as you felt his tongue glide across your own. Clive’s fingers sliding under your skirts, his fingers brushing your inner thigh as he broke the kiss, his lips brushing your jaw then your neck.
“And I will make you realize until you understand how much you mean to me.”
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kianaflame23 · 2 years ago
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Final Fantasy XVI Clive Rosfield sfw and n*fw headcanons
Summary: Decided to write this because I'm bored and still hype for FFXVI! Finally able to pre-ordered deluxe edition. The State of Play FFXVI video was AMAZING! I LOVE IT! Hoping to buy PS5 before June 22nd!
NO MINORS! I WILL BLOCK YOU IF YOU DON'T SHOW YOUR AGE IN YOUR BIO! ONLY 🔞!
I JUST LOVE CLIVE ROSFIELD! I'll do my best to write him more after the game is out! Enjoy reading it and hope you have a nice morning/day/night! ✨️
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You know he's serious and does not like PDA. Clive is very affectionate when you are alone with him though. However, he will hold your hand while traveling together with the group.
Do not attempt to flirt anyone in front of him, you'll get your "punishment" if you don't pay attention to him or keep ignoring him.
Good luck on trying to calm him down as he decides to take you back to Cid's Hideaway, fucking you with such frustration and anger until you are filled with his cum. Most likely won't speak with you until he is ready to talk.
You need to remind him that you were just teasing him and only want him. Yes, he is a serious man and doesn't show his emotions, however, he'll be disappointed and heartbroken if you are using him for games and all...
Depending on your answer, Clive will forgive you. Giving you kisses and cuddles, feeling sorry for his intense behavior. Asking you if he was too rough on you... If he sees you crying as you explain about your bad experiences with men. Testing him if he's like those disgusting, cruel men....only craving for your body and nothing else...
Definitely will hate himself for being angry at you, saying "I'm sorry" over and over. Hugging you tightly as he kiss your forehead...
In the end, do not flirt anyone. If someone tries to flirt you or touching you without consent, then they will see true rage once they see Clive approaching them. Him glaring at them as his blue eyes growing cold and filled with hatred. He will kill them for you. A simple "yes" from you and he will do it. If you don't want to see any bloodshed and want to go somewhere safe, then he'll just punched them until they're unconscious. Pulling you closer to him as you leave the place.
Cheating and manipulation is a huge "no" for Clive. You have to be trustworthy and loyal to him if you want to be his lover. If you only care for his body and power, then Clive will NOT speak with you and will leave you. Like I said, he wants to be with someone who loves him and cares for him.
He is very protective of you. Clive will do anything to keep you safe. He'll be surprised, knowing that you'll do the same for him.
Please do praise him as you make love to him, Clive will moan as waves of pleasure and excitement takes over his body. You'll hear his soft whimpers if you keep telling him that you feel good because of him or saying "good boy" while pleasuring him...
He's a switch. Want him to be submissive for you? You can hear his cute moans coming out from his mouth, loving your lust in your eyes. Ready to "destroy" him in the bedroom.
Wear your favorite lipstick and kiss all over his body. Kiss him passionately, as you stroke his cock. Moaning louder as his hand grips the bedsheets, closing his eyes in ecstasy.
Tell him that you REALLY love his buff chest and you'll receive a smug grin on his face. Teasing you in the bed as he talk dirty to your ears...
Clive LOVES suck and lick your sweet flower, using his thumb to touch your clitoris. Allowing you to use his head as his tongue thrusting in and out of your pussy.
He will not admit it but he really love your breasts between his cock. That's right, he's into boobjob. Bonus if you suck his cock as your eyes fixated on his. Making him cum all over your mouth and face.
It is fine if you don't have huge chest. Clive still love you. He'll suck your nipples as he use his fingers on your pussy. Fingering you as he hears your moans.
If you want to try cowgirl position or any sex positions, he will do it. After all, you are his beloved darling.
You are his world, his moonlight...you are everything to him. Clive would like to stay with you forever.
If you tell him everything about your past, he will tell you about his little brother, Joshua, and why he is trying to find The Dominant. He will tell you stories about his childhood. Some memeories are good and some are not so great...Please do hug him. Clive truly deserves happiness. Comfort him too.
He doesn't mind if you aren't lady-like or not. He'll smile when you are with him. Telling you that you're beautiful, vowing that you'll be his wife when everything is over. Saving the world and all. Some day, he'll ask you if you want to be his queen.
If you want to start a family with him, then he'll protect you and the children. Making sure you don't stress yourself and eating properly. Especially if you're pregnant. It's fine if you want to adopted kids and wait until you are ready. He'll support your decision anyways.
For the meantime, he is happy to be with someone who is loving and caring. Supporting him and his decisions, Clive knows that you won't leave him and appreciate your help. Don't forget that he will always love you, protect you and support you.
Bonus ☆
His smile grows wider as he sees you and Torgal getting along, having a good time as you petted Torgal's head. Hearing your giggles cause his heart skip a beat, love and joy in his eyes. His heart practically pounding against his heart as he pulled you and Torgal in a hug, careful to not squeeze you two. He'll never forget this cute moment. Never.
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xxladyballadxx · 2 years ago
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Fire Fairy
Clive Rosfield x (Fire Fairy) reader
PURE ANGST!!
WARNING: MENTIONS OF SUICIDE, SELF HARM AND ABUSE!!! DON’T READ IT IF IT MAKES YOU FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE!
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My dead, abusive mother once told me that I have the potential to be one of the most powerful fairies, she had no doubt about it. 
I was not to reveal my powers to anyone, my mother believes that I could hurt someone with it. I broke that promise when someone I know from Rosaria saw me using my magic. A boy named Clive Rosfield, I ran away from him worrying that he might expose me to someone. Somehow he managed to catch up to me. 
He wasn’t going to harm me or anything like that. Clive wondered why I was running away from him. I explained the reason and had to tell him my name, that I’m a fairy. 
‘Beautiful..’
The surprising part of when I showed my wings of flames, Clive said they were beautiful, unique and warm. I didn’t want to believe what he said. Those words that slipped out of his mouth, I wish he was lying. I really wish he was…but he didn’t..
So we talked and sat by the lake, we became friends. Even though my mother warned me to stay away from everyone. I never had any friends. Never in my life.
Until I met Clive…
We became close…
We see each other every single day whenever we have the chance to…
On the day where I’m supposed to see Clive after his training, he wanted to tell me something. As I stood by the tree, waiting, I heard screams of terror and I saw flames coming from where Clive is…
Rosaria…
So I headed there to see what was happening and spotted dead corpses lying around as I got there. Slaughtered. There I’ve witnessed two eikons battling against each other. Phoenix….and Ifrit. I couldn’t find Clive anywhere. Everyone was running away and screaming. I felt my wrist being grabbed by someone. I thought it would be Clive. It was my mother and she was not happy with me heading to Rosaria. She dragged me  back home, yelled at me and I told her that I went to Rosaria to save someone. Her anger grew high when I told her about me and Clive. She slapped me across the face as I dropped to the floor. Calling me a disgusting harlot and other names similar to that. 
She gave birth to a monster…
I ignored my mother and rushed back to Rosaria once again and never looked back. As I got there, everything and everyone was gone. The whole place fell to pieces and some were in flames. The fire eikons were gone too, they must have disappeared when my mother took me home. 
So I walked back to the cottage and witnessed my mother’s dead body on the floor. She stabbed herself in the chest. My mother killed herself because of me. I buried her corpse and said horrible things to her. She was never a real mother, never once cared about me. She can fucking rot for all I care.
Here I am…all alone…
But it didn’t bother me so much…
I’ve moved on and walked my own path…
13 years later, I got so used to being on my own. No one to bother me, no one to hurt me or anything like that. 
“Take that, you fucking twat.” I stabbed a bandit that was trying to rob me. Set the body on fire afterwards using my fire magic.
 I became the most wanted woman in Valisthea. Oh yes, I fucking have a bounty on my head. Every single stupid man tried to take me down. They failed. Throughout these years, my magic grew stronger. 
I learnt how to wield a dagger by myself, I don’t use it a lot though. I always depend on my magic and all. 
I was scavenging through the dead bandit’s corpse and while doing that, I  heard footsteps coming towards me from behind. I swiftly turned around and revealed my fire wings, getting ready to fight.
I was going to take him down until…
“(Y/n)..?”
How the fuck does he knows my name?
This man…why does he look so familiar?
He said my name again, walking closer to me as I took a step back “(Y/n)…it’s me…it’s Clive..” 
My heart felt a hit of shock when I heard that name, I magically put my fire wings away and took a closer look at him. 
 He’s…alive…
Clive….is alive and he’s here…standing right in front of me.
“I thought you were dead…” I spoke softly, feeling a sting of tears forming in my eyes “I’ve looked for you in Rosaria…when that incident happened…you weren’t there anymore..”
Clive embraced me into his arms, I leaned my head into his shoulder and hugged him, “I’m so sorry, (Y/n)…”
I pulled away from him for a second, “Tell me what happened in Rosaria.”
Clive agreed to it, “Alright, (Y/n), I will tell you everything.”
-//-//-//-
We leaned against the tree and sat together on the grass. Clive began to talk about the invasion in Rosaria, about his family being killed and everything that has happened. He lost his dear little brother, Joshua, the dominant of a flamebird Phoenix. Clive did mention it to me in the past, about Joshua. I never got the chance to meet his younger brother. Clive had to witness Joshua’s death, being killed by Ifrit, another fire eikon that appeared out of nowhere.
I felt very sorry for Clive, he lost his family, his home. Everything. I couldn’t imagine what he’s been through after losing his loving family. Clive is seeking revenge, he told me that he’s trying to track down the dominant. The man who killed his little brother. 
Clive asked me where I’ve been all this time and what I've been doing with my life, he got shocked when I surprisingly told him I have a bounty on my head, that people were after me, “I’ve been killing, stealing and all that. That’s what I do for a living now. Even hiding in the shadows from people trying to look for me.”
Clive found it hard to believe me, he never saw me as the type of person to do such a thing. Stealing, of course. Well, people change for a reason or without a reason I guess. “What happened to your mother?” I knew he was going to ask me that.
I heaved a sigh, “Dead, she killed herself by piercing a knife through her chest. All because of me…”
“I’m sorry…”
“Don’t be, she never cared about me.”
Clive actually thought I had a loving, caring mother. He was wrong, “She was a horrible mother, she abused me and even manipulated me. My mother gets aggressively mad when I get out of the house. She often made me sleep outside whenever I disobeyed her. She treated me like shit…” my damn harsh mother gave me bruises, beat the shit out of me but only when I got into trouble. 
“I can’t imagine what you’ve been through these days, (Y/n). How come you never told me about your mother? Why did she treat you like that?” Clive wailed, wondering why I never mentioned the terrible thing about my mother to him. I lied to him in the past that my mother is a loving woman. Among other things too…
“I didn’t want you to worry or get involved with my own problems.”  I took off my arm gloves and put them away since my skin were sweating so fucking much from the warm weather. Clive noticed my old scars on both of my arms, he gently held my arms into his hands as he examined them, “(Y/n), did you-” Before he could ask, I snatched my arms away and tried to walk away. He grabbed my wrist and looked at me with that sad-worrying face, his blue orbs showing signs of concern, “(Y/n)...”
I growled in annoyance, snatching my wrist away from his strong grasp and looking at directly with anger flaming over my face, “Clive, I want you to stay away from me. Far away from me!” 
Those words cut him deeply, Clive felt a wave of hurt crashing onto him, “I can’t do that, (Y/n)...”
“Why?!” I bawled out, tears coming out of my (e/c) eyes.
“....Remember I said I wanted to tell you something? In the past?” 
I stayed silent, sobbing and weeping. “...I love you, (Y/n).”
No…
This can’t be true…
“You can’t love me, Clive.” I wept, flames of red glowing into my (e/c) orbs, “You could never love someone like me…” he deserves someone better than me. I can’t be with Clive Rosfield. I just can’t!
“I mean it, (Y/n), I love you. I’ve been in love with you ever since the day we met.” I truly wish those were lies. Damn you, Clive Rosfield…
“I’ve struggled so much in the past, I wanted to take my own life so many fucking times because I couldn’t handle this cruel world anymore. Never once in my life I ever had anyone to love or anyone to love me!” I shouted in a cry of pain, “I realized that I don’t deserve that love, I don’t deserve it…I don’t deserve to be loved!!” 
Clive felt the urge to hold me in comfort, I pushed him away and turned around, looking away from him. “(Y/n), you don’t have to be alone anymore. Come with me…we can go through this together.” 
I magically slipped out my wings of flames and looked at him directly one last time, “I will never forget the moments we cherish, the old days we spend time with each other. You were the only person who never judged me for who I am. We can’t be together, Clive. I love you but we can’t be together.” it felt so hurtful to admit that. It truly does…
I ended up hurting him by what I said, even breaking his heart, “(Y/n), please..” Clive walked over to place my hand into his, he looked like he was about to cry. I held my hand up to touch his face, caressing the side of it, “You can either keep me in your memories or forget about me, your choice. I decided to keep you in my heart because…I chose not to forget you.” 
Please know that we can’t be together, Clive…we truly don't belong together..
And it’s best we keep our distance…
“Goodbye, Clive Rosfield…” I took a few steps back and turned around, flying towards the blue sky without looking back. “(Y/N)!!!” Clive called out as loud as he could, his voice crying out. He kept calling me out my name and chasing me until I disappeared through the clouds. 
I continued to soar among the clear white clouds…with tears of pain stinging into my eyes. Feeling my heart shattering in such a hurtful way, very painful that it made me cry even more…
I mumbled the words that poured from my salted bruised lips, “I’m so sorry…”
It’s better to be alone…
That way no one can hurt you…
That way…I don’t hurt anyone…
(A/n) - I feel like I’ve rushed this because I was having a lot of things in my mind. :-;
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moonilit · 1 year ago
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Mer Jote x phoenix Joshua out of the discord rambling lol
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telamons · 1 year ago
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Jill: This isn't just your struggle, Clive. It's ours. And when we see how hard you fight, it inspires us to do the same. Or... would you rather we left you to save the world all on your own?
Clive: No, that's not... Ignore me.
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noctylisse · 1 year ago
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Back To You, I Will
⋆⭒˚。⋆ A promise he whispers to his lady, the night before he departs.
Clive Rosfield x Fem Reader [Set before the Night of Flames. Takes place the night before Clive sets off to Stillwind.]
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You feel the cold rush of the wind on your skin as you lay in bed. Moonlight shines across the room, tiny specks of dust floating in its wake like little fairies.
Rosalith is silent now, save for the occasional gentle sound of wagon wheels moving across the pavements.
The curtains of your bedroom window dance softly with the wind’s command. It is peaceful. And slowly, your eyes close as sleep washes over you.
Not long after you drift asleep, a loud crash sounds from outside and jolts you awake.
“Fucking bearer! Quiet down!” a slavemaster’s gravelly voice could be heard from outside, followed by the immediate defense of his slave in a trembly voice. “I-it wasn’t me! I w-was just..!” 
“I don’t give a shit! Just be fucking quiet you damned thing! And clean up your mess!” The slavemaster shuts his doors, leaving the slave to clean up whatever mess was there.
You sigh. It’s unfortunate how these bearers are branded and treated as such. A recent memory sparks in your mind. One of Clive Rosfield, the Archduke’s son, helping and smiling at a bearer who had dropped fruit from a carton. He treated the man with respect as he should be, despite the beliefs of the non-branded common folk. 
“Ever so kind, he is.” You whisper, smiling at the memory and facing the wall. “How lucky I must be to have his eyes on me…”
Quite forbidden, your love is. The difference in status would ruin Clive's reputation all the way through. But it didn’t matter to him, it never did. He has never failed to reassure you no matter what doubt you had. 
Consumed by the thoughts you had of your lover, you fail to hear the creak of your windows as they begin to be pried open fully. The curtains begin to speed up their dance as the wind gets stronger.
A leg wearing a fine leather boot swings down, finding its footing on the window stool. Its pair does the same, and the very one who occupies your mind swoops down in his entirety. He’s crouching now, both arms keeping him steady. 
“I should’ve been more careful..” He sighs as he looks downwards, to his left. The poor bearer was forced to clean the mess he had made, accidentally tripping on and breaking off a huge tile of the slavemaster’s roof as he was quickly trying to get to you.
He silently promises to give the man a gift of apologies (disguised as a spontaneous gift) before he departs in the morrow.
Your eyes narrow. That smooth voice. So familiar, so gentle. You turn around to face him. 
“Clive!” You smile. It always felt nice to say his name. All the more to have him right there in front of you. He smiles back, and you sit up, swinging your legs off the bed and opening your arms to him. He rushes into your embrace and presses a kiss on your head. 
“I wanted to see you before I depart to Stillwind tomorrow.” He says softly, letting go of you before kneeling down on the floor to embrace you again, his arms wrapped around your waist and his head on your shoulder. He presses a kiss on your shoulder while you play with his hair. 
“But you’ll be seeing me tomorrow before you go.” You start. “I’ll be there to see you off.”
“But that’s different.” He lifts his head up to look at you. “Everybody would be seeing me off. I won’t be able to embrace you like this. To be with you like this.”
He looks away to press the back of your hand to his lips, before looking back at you again.  “I only ever wish to be with you freely, my love.” 
You smile sadly. “I do as well and you know that.” You caress his cheek. “But given your position..” 
You sigh, placing a hand on his left cheek. He is a bearer, unbranded. You wish he would stay that way.
He frowns. “It doesn’t matter. It shouldn’t.” He stands, gently pulling you up with him. “I promise you, my love. I will find a way.”
He begins to smile softly, deep ocean blue eyes twinkling as the both of you are bathed in moonlight. Ever so hopeful he is, you can’t help but share the same hope. For the future, for both of you. You smile.
He leans down, his forehead against yours, his smile and yours never wavering. “It is my duty to be the Shield of Rosaria…” He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. “Just as much as it is my duty to be yours. To  love you, come what may, my love.” He presses his lips against yours. Soft and gentle, the way he kisses you. So full of love. 
You pull away from one another briefly before you cup his face in your hands and give him a short but sweet kiss in return.
Your eyes look away from him for a moment, focusing on the moon. A silent agreement is made between you and the heavenly body. To keep him safe, for his safe return.
Looking back at him, you smile softly, arms around his neck. “I trust your mission to be successful, my love. I just know the soldiers will sing your praises. As they should be.” He kisses your cheek as a silent ‘thank you’.  
“Be safe, Clive.” You whisper as he leads you both toward the window. 
“I promise I will.”
"Come back in one piece, you must."
He lifts your hand up to his lips and presses a soft kiss against the back of it. “Back to you, I will, my lady.” 
And with that, he kisses your lips once more before he leaves. 
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strawberrisncreme · 1 year ago
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A Good Day
(Read on Ao3 HERE)
Pairing: Young!Clive x Reader (iirc I made it p much gender neutral save for one tiny part)
Summary: As Rosalith's (admittedly young) chocobo caretaker, it is your duty to ensure the well-being of the birds. What starts as another average day ends up being more eventful as you bump into the young lord Clive Rosfield.
AN: I really tried writing fics again just for this game, emphasis on the word TRIED. I haven't written shit in 10 years
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Year of the Realm 860 Rosalith - The Grand Duchy of Rosaria
The streets of Rosalith slowly come alive as the first hints of sunrise casts a warm glow across the cobblestone paths. The insistent “kweh’s” of hungry chocobos fill the air as you make your way towards the wooden stables, grimacing as you feel your boots sink into the muddy ground. Your sleep-addled brain can barely keep up as you carry out your duties of replenishing each chocobo’s greens and setting out fresh straw. While it’s admittedly not the most engaging task, you find comfort in the routine and can think of far worse company than the gentle birds that you care for. Wiping the sweat from your brow, you can’t keep the smile of excitement off your face as you walk up to the next bird, her sharp blue eyes snapping to you as you carefully extend your arm to her, waiting to see if she’d accept your offer of pats.
“Hello Ambrosia, I apologize for being a bit behind schedule…some of the others were being difficult today, but I trust you won’t hold it against me?”
You beam as she nudges her head into your outstretched hand, permitting you to give her snowy white feathers a quick ruffle before you turn, tending to her empty food trough. 
“You know girl, I have a feeling that today will be a good day.” You mumble as you fish out her quality greens, “I heard that Clive was planning on going for a ride today, wouldn’t that be nice? Take you out for some fresh air, maybe even get in a few kills…mind you, that would mean more work for me. It’s a right pain in the arse trying to get blood out of your feathers.”
So caught up in your tasks, you were painfully unaware of the new presence of a certain young lord Rosfield who was casually leaning against the wooden post at the entrance of Ambrosia’s stable, quietly listening to your musings. 
“But you ought to be careful out there, I know you wouldn’t let it happen but with the Blight and all who knows what you and Clive see out there mm? Can’t let the young lord get hurt… or you for that matter.” You laugh, standing up, “Well, not like he’d listen to me- OH!” You jump as you finally take notice of your silent companion. Well, aside from Ambrosia of course. “Lord Rosfield!” You exclaim, hastily bending at the waist into a rather ungraceful bow. “Forgive me, I was not aware that you would be at the stables this early in the morning!” 
You can hear him stifle a laugh as he walks closer, his boots coming into your field of vision from where you remain bowed over.  “Please, rise. And you need not show such stiff formalities, after all, did I not just hear you refer to me by name instead of title?”  You quickly snap out of your bow, inwardly cringing at your appearance (a messy and sweaty mess) an embarrassingly stark contrast to his well put-together attire, the morning sun glinting off the sword he keeps hung on his back. Silently, you pray furiously for him to mistake the flush on your cheeks as a result of your physical labor, and not as an effect of you being in his presence alone.
So what if you held a tiny flame for the young lord? It’s not your fault he was blessed with a pretty face...and a likable personality… and- Great Greagor. What wasn’t there to like about him??
“-ou feeling well? Shall I call for a healer?” You quickly shook away your thoughts as you refocused your eyes (and thoughts) on Clive, resisting the urge to physically slap some sense into yourself.
“Apologies, my lord, how may I serve you?” You hurriedly lowered yourself into another bow, nervously fiddling with the front of your skirt. 
“Please, Clive is perfectly suitable. He stepped closer, arms outstretched as he motioned for you to stand. “There is no one here save for the chocobos, and I doubt they have much regard for titles.” 
You straighten out once more, awkwardly nodding in agreement. “Well, right then…how can I be of service to you…Clive?” The name felt wrong coming out of your mouth now, while it wasn’t the first time you used it, you could never get used to referring to any of the Rosfield’s as anything less than their rank…to their faces at least. Clive on the other hand grinned at your compliance, turning to smooth out some of Ambrosia’s feathers.
“It seems I rose earlier than usual today, it’s a while yet before my presence is needed elsewhere so I thought to pay a visit to the stables.” 
Ambrosia happily soaked up the attention from her favorite human, letting out a soft kweh as he rhythmically stroked along her beak. Anyone would agree that it was a damned adorable sight.
“She is a fine bird” you say, affection evident in your voice, “it would be rude of me to have a favorite out of all the steeds, but I won’t tell if you don’t.” You grinned at him, carefully grabbing your broom to sweep away bits of dust and straw that littered the floor. 
You failed to notice the light flush that colored his face as he cleared his throat, “That she is, you have my gratitude for taking such good care of her. It’s clear that she’s taken a liking to you.” 
You shook your head, “She’s just a naturally sweet girl, I’m sure she’d behave the same with any other chocobo handler.” 
He scoffs, running his hand through her plumage “You’d be surprised, consider it a compliment… by the Mother, ” He sighed, his face twitched slightly in embarrassment, “how embarrassing…I never asked for your name.” You stood there, dumbfounded for a moment. “Please, my lord-” “Clive.” “... Clive . That really won't be necessary-”
“Nonsense, I would like to know the name of the individual who takes such good care of our birds.” His smile was almost blinding as you floundered inside your head. Embarrassingly, your name seemed to slip from your mind for a moment. “It’s ___!  But please my lord, you need not feel pressured to use it-” “ ___? ___… ” He tested, unaware of your rapidly increasing heartbeat. This is it. You were going to die in a chocobo stable. “I like it.” He says, the smile evident in his voice, “It suits you.” “You have my thanks my lor- I mean, thank you, Clive.” You stuttered out, gripping the handle of your broom tightly.  He smiled brightly at you, seemingly wanting to say more but was quickly interrupted at the sudden sharp shout of “LORD ROSFIELD!” that pierced the calm morning air. “It seems that I let time slip away from me,” he said sheepishly, “my apologies, but I should make haste before Commander Murdoch wakes the entirety of Rosaria…thank you for taking the time to speak with me ___ . I shall leave Ambrosia in your more than capable hands.” You quickly bow your head to him, still unused to hearing your name coming from his lips. Giving you one last smile of gratitude, he pats Ambrosia on the neck affectionately before slipping out of the stables. Turning to the snowy chocobo, you watch in a daze as she happily wolfs down her breakfast. “A very good day indeed…” 
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robo-writing · 9 months ago
Text
Sweet Knowing
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Summary: Cid becomes aware of the attention you seem to draw from a certain Rosfield, and uses it to his advantage.
Warnings: implied voyeurism, p in v actions, 18+ MDNI
This is the second part to this, but can be read on its own.
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Cid can be called a slew of things; Lord Commander, Dominant of Ramuh, Outlaw—but one thing he cannot be called, is a fool.
When he found the young Rosfield in the wastelands he felt his heart tug at the display; of a man beaten and broken, only to find that his mission was to kill his childhood friend, one he thought dead long ago. He didn’t think twice about recruiting him to the cause, bringing him to The Hideaway and giving him a rundown of his plans to free bearers from their lot in life. He offered the boy a hot meal and a warm bath, or rather his beloved did.
When word got around that there was a newcomer she was ready to accommodate him. Bright-eyed and friendly, you had offered him whatever was needed to make him feel at home.
“Gods, your clothes are filthy!” You gasped, scanning Clive from head to toe, shaking your head at the muddied state of his armor. “I’ll run to the markets tomorrow and get you some more suitable attire, I can’t let you sleep in armor.”
“Thank you ma’am, but there’s no need—“ he began, only to be stopped by your stern gaze.
“Nonsense. You’re a part of our merry band and I won’t have you sleeping in iron and steel. Now, when’s the last time you had a hot meal?”
Despite his protests you wouldn’t take no for an answer, offering Clive a handkerchief to wipe his face as you ran towards the kitchens to make your own stew for the war-weary traveler.
Cid noticed it when you set the plate full of soup in front of him, how Clive had gotten just the slightest bit nervous around you. He was already the quiet type but this was a different kind of quiet, as if he was afraid of saying something he shouldn’t. Subtle to anyone else, but not to him.
Intrigued, Cid didn’t say a word, only watched in amusement as the former Lord ate by the spoonful, thanking you profusely.
That same night you offered to give him a tour of what would be his new home. Clive had initially declined, afraid of taking advantage of your generosity, and it was only with a firm hand on his shoulder and encouragement from Cid that he accepted.
“Come now, the nice lady’s offered, you wouldn’t want to disappoint her now, would you?” He grins, waving a hand at your expectant form. “Promise she won’t bite.”
He finishes with a wink before pushing Clive a step forward, watching as he follows behind her like a lost puppy.
Let’s see how far this schoolyard crush goes.
The answer, he’d find out, is very far. Weeks have gone by and Clive still looks at you entranced, practically jumping at the opportunity to spend time with you. Just a minute ago you had offered for him to accompany you to gather some flowers, Tarja needing them for one reason or another, and Cid had never seen the man so eager to leave.
He watches the interaction from a secluded corner, a cigar between his lips, relishing in the view. Your doe-like eyes fluttering, the young Rosarian struggling to keep eye contact—the boy was a fool for you. Not that he could blame him, just looking at you made Cid’s heart jump in his chest, fondly remembering how nervous he was when he asked you to be his.
You were far too pretty, too humble, practically a walking angel and he was…him. He had his faults, but you, you were faultless, despite how many times you tried to convince him you weren’t. You’d spend the rest of your life trying to convince him because as far as Cid was concerned you were perfection personified, and nothing you’d say would change his mind.
His thoughts are broken when you notice his secluded form, the smallest wink being sent his way before returning to your conversation with Clive.
Well, you did have one fault; You could be a bit of a tease.
He still remembers what you told him days ago before he had to leave for an excursion. You kissed him goodbye before his mission, words as sweet as honey, only to whisper pure filth in his ears when no one was watching.
“Come back safe and I might give you a reward.”
He did not miss how your fingers wandered down his shirt for the briefest of moments, before pulling away enticingly.
He doesn’t think he’s ever completed a mission that fast before, or so effectively. Tarja was stunned to find not so much as a hair out of place considering his reputation for getting hurt, but Cid was too busy thinking about just how you would reward him for his efforts. The thought of it made him impatient, made him want to drag you away and keep you all to himself, but he could wait a while longer. You’d be back by tonight, and then he’d have you all to himself.
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“Always so eager…” He murmurs against your lips, keeping you pressed into the sheets. Slow, sensual, he holds you close as he fucks you, taking his time to watch your eyes roll back and your jaw go slack.
Your legs close around his waist, pulling him ever further into your wet heat—he could never get used to how good you feel, how quickly you surrender yourself to him. He grinds himself harder against you, listening with pride when you whine his name.
“I missed you so much,” he sighs. “Missed me too, didn’t you?”
You nod shakily, unable to speak. He breathes you in, his hands touching every expanse of your skin from your hips to your breasts, unable to stop himself. His fingers hold firm against your pliant body, the smallest tremble moving through you when he presses himself deeper into your heat.
You cast a spell on him, a lust that borders on insanity. You clench against him so tightly like you never want him to leave, nails leaving angry lines against his back that he’ll be sure to be proud of in the morning. The slight sting only motivates him further, teeth grazing against the sensitive skin of your neck.
“That’s it,” he groans into your ear. “Don’t think, just feel, feel what you do to me.”
It’s in that moment that he hears the soft tapping of someone outside his door. Footsteps? This late into the night?
Stopping doesn’t so much as cross his mind—whatever it is cannot be more important than you.
His assault against your senses continues, hitting that soft spot that has you arch your back and moan his name like a whore.
“Gods, Cid…”
He unravels you, he keeps you whole, he takes your sanity and brings you to new heights all at the same time. The whiplash is dizzying, not sure if you should cry or beg for more.
“Good fucking girl,” he rasps, pride in his voice. “Lay back and take it, just like that—“
His heart beats faster when you let out an even louder noise, squirming against his length. So good, so fucking perfect, you’re a dream, one he never wishes to wake from.
He moves with a practiced ease, focused on your pleasure, but also towards the door, distinctly aware of his midnight visitor. There were footsteps coming towards the door but none leaving it—whoever’s there is still listening.
An idea springs forth, feeling just the slightest bit mischievous.
Might as well give them a show.
His brings his thumb to your clit, circling it ever so slightly, teasing the hard nub and watching as you’re reduced to a mess before his very eyes. Mouth open and eyes lidded, you whimper under his commanding touch, begging for more.
“So good, so good, oh gods—please don’t stop—“ You cry, shaking against him. Your legs are barely able to hold onto him, a brutal pace being set and yet you beg him for more.
How could he resist when you ask him so nicely?
So he indulges you, and this time you really can’t keep up, trying and failing to match his rhythm but your poor abused body just can’t, no matter how badly you want to. Cid grabs you by the hips with both hands and presses you flush to him, practically breathing each other’s air. Between the scrape of the bed and the slap of skin against skin, Cid can faintly make out a muffled groan.
The tone is strikingly familiar.
He can’t help the wicked grin painted on his face.
He slows down, just enough to bring your attention back to him as he whispers against your neck.
“Do you hear that? We have an audience.”
Eyes glazed, you slowly gather your bearings before looking at him in confusion. “What are you—“
“Shhh,” he silences you, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “It seems like a certain Rosarian has come to visit us.”
He grinds himself against you, your own sound of pleasure being followed by the softest grunt from outside the door. Your head turns, finally realizing with wide eyes.
“Is that—“
“It is,” he moves slowly against you, making sure to keep you pleasured but coherent. “I could tell him to leave, if that’s what you wish.”
He knows you better than you know yourself, so it’s no surprise to him when you shake your head.
“Keep going, please.”
The moment you give him permission he’s back to fucking you, thumb moving against your sensitive nub once more. You keen for him, louder and louder as he chases your lips impatiently, swallowing your moans with his tongue. When he pulls away he growls against your lips, eyes pinning you on the spot.
“Like being listened to? Like the idea of him knowing how desperate you are?”
You shake your head, but the way you tighten up tells another tale.
“Don’t lie to me, I know you do, it’s okay,” He coos, his own high slowly approaching. “You don’t think I see how he looks at you? How you’re so eager to let him follow you around?”
You shake your head ready to deny the accusation. The moment you do Cid’s movements slow to a crawl, holding you right on the edge, tantalizingly close to falling apart.
“Don’t, please move—“ He refuses when you beg, tears welling in your eyes as your pussy throbs for release, a release Cid holds you back from.
“What did I say my dear?” He breathes. “Don’t lie to me.”
You whimper, begging for mercy once again. “I promise, just, please don’t stop, need you to fuck me—”
Cid’s grin is nothing short of sinful. “Need me, or need us?”
The notion makes your heart stop, a shocked expression painting your face. And yet he can feel your velvety walls spasm around him, answer clear as day.
He laughs, breath heaving. “You do, don’t you? Want us to fuck you, treat you like the needy little whore you are—“
He’s moving again, even faster now. This time you can’t even bring yourself to lie, a broken mess below him. Half-uttered sentences and broken moans, too far gone to care about anything except how fucking good you feel.
You scream, and Cid hears a thump outside the door.
Hope he’s enjoying himself.
He wraps his arms around you, unwilling to let you go for even a second. “Fuck—say it, say you want us, fucking say it—“
“Yes—I want it, please—!”
Your cunt is so welcoming, he feels like he’s going to go mad. He gives his all and then some, relishes in how fucking tight you hold onto him, gushing around him.
“There’s my girl, come on, let go for me—“ He grunts into your skin, shuddering as his own release takes hold of him.
You look glorious, spread out before him. Even when you look fucked within an inch of your life he can’t help but admire what a fucking sight you are. He doesn’t stop, keeps going even though he’s so sensitive it’s downright painful, if only to squeeze out a few more seconds of your orgasm. Your sobs threaten to wake the entire Hideaway but he just can’t bring himself to stop.
“Yesyesyes, so good, I can’t—fuck—I can’t—“
“Yes you fucking can,” Cid interrupts in awe. “Be good and let me see you stain the sheets love.”
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