#in which haurchefant fantasizes

[adair-kiba]

Lately I wanna think more about Adair's relationships outside of Haurchefant. As much as I adore that ship, my mind keeps wandering to the other love interests in Adair's life.

He and Haurchie had an open relationship until they became engaged, then they chose to be monogamous for at least until they had a chance to enjoy married life for a little while, just the two of them. "I'm yours, I don't want anyone but you" that sort of thing. Unfortunately they never had that chance.

Adair and Hastaloeya first met as fellow adventurers during ARR. They flirted, but nothing much came of it. They started getting closer during the time just before the drama with that saucy book being published that fully exposed Adair's past as an ul'dahn brothel worker and escort - which he had rather successfully kept secret until around the time the Crystal Braves were gaining traction.

Following his sudden boost of renown after defeating the Ultima Weapon, a former client who had become too invested in his perceived relationship with Adair took the opportunity to brag about his closeness to the handsome young Warrior of Light, and wrote a book detailing (and fantasizing) their encounters. Hastaloeya was shocked by the revelation that his friend and crush had hidden such a big secret, and was wary about trusting Adair for what else he may have been hiding. They grew distant, and made up not long before the bloody banquet happened. Then suddenly Adair found himself framed as a wanted criminal, and disappeared into frozen Coerthas for many months.

He coincidentally reunited with Hastaloeya some time after rescuing Raubahn. Hastaloeya had been surrounded by the ul'dahn loyalist perspective that Adair was a criminal, and upon seeing Adair again he was cold towards the Auri man - he felt betrayed. It wasn't until Raubahn appeared to vouch for Adair's character that Hastaloeya was willing to let down his walls and listen to Adair's side of the story. After that talk, they quickly rebuilt their friendship and trust, but were slow to resume flirting. Hastaloeya was one of the tanks that Adair would often call upon while on his quests through Gyr Abania.

After his recovery from childbirth following Stormblood (4.0, during the patches), Adair found an odd peacefulness in helping to train recruits for the Immortal Flames (mostly as a favor to his friend Raubahn). Adair oversaw a squadron of his own, with Hastaloeya as his second in command. Slowly they fell back into their old routine of playful flirtation, and became casual sweethearts.

Their relationship is flirtatious friends who often smooch, and sometimes share a bed. Both openly see others, and while what they have isn't a deep bond like Adair felt for Haurchefant, they cherish their good chemistry, trust, and compatible energies. A fun, relaxed open relationship.

[vierandancer]

Meiko had felt stupid plenty of times throughout her near twenty-five years of life, but tonight that thought was especially oppressive. She knew she wasn’t in the right mindset for this – she hadn’t ever been, and yet perhaps out of boredom, for want of warmth, she wanted to try again. Just try.

It had been naive to think that her training with Troupe Falsiam would have somehow forged a stronger bond with her body, had awakened something in her; even when she danced for the many hooting and hollering crowdss, it was only for the music. A performance –a lie.

She wasn’t particularly thrilled or complimented by the lustful jeers and applause/ After all, it wasn’t like they would differentiate her from any other grouping of arse, tits, and legs. They reacted the same to Ranaa, and to Nashmeira before them. Meiko never caught sight of an attractive face in the crowd, rolled off the stage, and dove into some dark alley to fantasize about them. She barely even picked out faces in the crowd at all! And it had always been that way. Even her first inklings of attraction back in Wadewick had been more about wanting attention more than anything, and fleeting in any case.

So if she had never experienced any real desire for anyone in her life, how the fuck was she supposed to imagine anything worth masturbating to?

At a loss, she stared up at the ceiling and tried to block out the sounds of Camp Dragonhead just outside. The sun hadn’t even set yet, but she had drawn the curtains of her little room shut and locked her door in an attempt to get some privacy.

She was just – she was just so sad. Sad for the Scions, or what remained of them, sad for Alphinaud out there blaming himself, sad for even Haurchefant’s story of how he was the black sheep of his family! Sad for her br–

NO! Stop! None of any of that! She abruptly shook her head violently, as if the increased aggression would physically halt the thoughts from forming. This always happened. Her mind would drift towards current events, and the anxiety and shame would set in. How could she even conceptualize pleasure at a time like this? How dare she.

I just want to feel good for a bloody minute, she pleaded with herself, and squeezed her eyes shut. Just a few minutes. Then she’d wash away her shame and do a thousand errands to make up for her selfishness. She would!

Her heart was already pounding. She only had so much time until her companions returned to the Falling Snow, and if she heard any of them pass by her door, it’d be over. Fuck.

No, no. Deep breaths. She tried to force the anxiety away and inhaled slowly, adjusting to get comfortable on her mattress. She had already stripped her clothing off before climbing into bed, and the wool blankets provided to them felt nice against her bare skin. She did everything she could to focus on that.

Of course, nobody got taught how to touch themselves. The way people talked, men just figured it out on their own. Women? Absolutely nothing. Maybe a crass joke here and there about using cucumbers had been tossed around a tavern back home, but aside from that, it was pure mystery. And who else could she ask? Her mother would have chased her out the room!

Already feeling defeated, Meiko slid one hand beneath the blanket. She wasn’t numb, at least; her breasts were sensitive like most people’s presumably were. Cheeks warm with shame, she hesitantly pressed two fingertips to either side of a nipple and – assessed.

Nothing. Fuck, she was so stupid. Broken, maybe, too. But she continued to try, despite cursing herself, and rubbed around the area as well. It brought small success; feeling the skin harden under her touch, she continued her ministrations…until she got bored.

Both hands then came up again and covered her face, which was burning. Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t do this and she was pathetic for even trying! A dumb, desperate fool rubbing her own tit to get off, and not even able to do that right.

She slumped back against the pillows and stared at the ceiling again. She couldn’t even conjure some faceless person to try and imagine her touch belonging to another, and Twelve forbid she try and fill in anyone she knew in their place. No, no, never. That was – that was disgusting. And she didn’t even have anyone in mind!

Because more than anything, Meiko couldn’t imagine anyone actually wanting to have sex with her. Aye, there were bastards who’d be fine with anyone, but that didn’t make her feel very good. How could she appreciate herself if she didn’t believe anyone else ever would?

She sighed. Slid her dominant hand back down under the blankets. One more try. Maybe her tits were broken or something. Maybe she just had to go right to the source?

She shut her eyes again and tentatively laid her fingertips over her mound, scooting her hips up and legs a bit wider apart. Frowned at the scratchiness here; it had been weeks since she’d done the bloody waxing thing for Troupe Falsiam, and now that they were wanted criminals for Eorzea, it was likely she couldn’t do it again for a very long time. So now, she’d be stuck with that discomfort between stripped fields and wiry bush for who knew how long! Great.

That did not improve her mental state. She tried to ignore it again and pulled her knees up higher, stretching the blanket like a shitty tent over her lower half. Would it have been better to see what she was doing? Likely, but she’d feel even more self-conscious then. So for now, she’d just have to fly fucking blind.

Fingers tentatively stroked in a slow line up from the bottom, feeling between the folds. Again, like when she had touched her breast, there was a tingle, and a faint slickness that came with the territory. Her lips twisted. She repeated the motion. With the slickness that lingered on her fingertip, she brushed over the sensitive nub of flesh just above. More tingles. Was she finally getting somewhere?

Fuck, she felt like she was doing a puzzle at gunpoint.

She touched herself again in the same gesture, swallowing. She didn’t know if she was doing it correctly, but she had to be on the right path. When the wetness thoroughly coated the top halves of her fingers, she dared to slide them a little lower, a little closer to her entrance.

Once again, she tried to imagine someone wanting to be doing this, too. But when she really couldn’t, she backed away from the thought and just focused on herself again. That nonsense was getting depressing.

Another stroke. Then back down, tentatively pressing inside just barely an ilm. When there wasn’t any pain or discomfort, she slid it in a little deeper – and wondered how the fuck a whole cock was supposed to fit in there. Like, it did, but it felt like it shouldn’t.

Brow furrowed, she slumped back and withdrew her hand. She was tired already. Psychologically, emotionally, and her hand was starting to cramp. If a slew of dragons attacked the camp right now, she’d be throwing her chakrams crooked – and for what? Some moist, vague bout of self-discovery?

What the fuck was she doing? There was a war going on. People of Ishgard died every day, there were Ascians on the loose, the Scions were scattered to the winds and falsely accused of regicide and this is what she was spending her time doing?

As shame rose in her, Meiko sat up and angrily rubbed her hands on her blankets. “Idiot,” she hissed, feeling emotion rise in her throat. “Fuckin’ idiot, Mei!”

And now she wanted to cry! Cry! For not only wasting time to get off, but not even achieving that in the first place! She cursed herself again and threw the blankets off her bed, then followed them to grab her clothes up off the floor.

She’d wash her hands and get right back out to helping around Whitebrim. Back to doing something worthwhile.

[crystalsexarch]

Haurchefant - evening preparations - E

Being thought an eccentric had benefits. For one, the Lord of Camp Dragonhead found that poor excuses satisfied many at his command; knights were willing to write off a sudden departure or change in mood as one of Haurchefant’s oddities. Well, perhaps he’s off to the stables, or Could be he means to place another order afore the merchant’s off. Ah, and sometimes he was. But not this time.

Twenty-seven - palaver Haurchefant gets away from the palaver of running Camp Dragonhead so he can let off some steam before ambiguous female WoL gets back. Explicit if you can't take a hint. He imagines some fantasies, light bondage, and erm...some other things...

More writing and sinning available here.

Perhaps a dozen knights surrounded his desk, half-heartedly readying their reports. He had his fingers woven together in front of his mouth.Back and forth went his eyes, searching for anything interesting to hold onto. It was a routine meeting, one in which he rarely learned anything of note. Certainly naught which interested him more than his current preoccupation.

“Milord,” the captain spoke. A perceptive Elezen, a fear years his junior. “We are set to proceed at your notice. Unless aught is amiss?”

Haurchefant looked to the ceiling with his eyebrows quirked, as if he’d heard someone plodding about the roof. “Yes,” he said. “In fact I’ve just begun to feel unwell.” He stood and set his palms against the table. “I believe I shall temporarily defer my responsibilities to you, good knight. Might I trouble you for a summary of what is discussed in my absence?”

The captain nodded, then saluted, with his lips pursed. “It shall be done, my lord. And may you find comfort.”

“I am certain I shall.” He made for the door, trying to stop a smirk from winning his expression. “Have at it, then.”

Haurchefant’s quarters were as he’d left them, so he stoked a fire and closed the blinds, as though to keep the heat from leaking as it built. Of course, he felt perfectly fine. As a knight, he had never been one for shirking his duties, but he hoped to excuse himself this one night because a wealth of distractions had been roiling in his mind for hours, and twas like the unit had little to offer in way of new intelligence. And if they did, he would hear of it soon enough.

But sooner than that - the Warrior would return. And he had plans for what would follow.

Once he’d removed his armor, Haurchefant reclined on his bed and smiled at the ceiling. The man had no stamina problem when it came to lovemaking, but still he hoped to impress his lady. After some experimentation, he had determined twas best to indulge himself before she ever arrived; that way, he could last through two or three cycles of her pleasure before his own ever became an issue.

And he had plenty of fantasies to fuel his habit.

He eased his trousers off and freed himself from his smallclothes. The fire’s heat had reached him, but his own rushed through his veins as well. In his mind, the dirty memories of past couplings, and visions of the future’s…

As he started stroking, he thought of whether he’d one day convince the Warrior to outfit herself with some new equipment and take him like a man. The image made his muscles tense: she, with her hips flush on his backside, her hand wrapped around and teasing him from the front. Would it please her? Oh, he hoped it would, for it would please him endlessly, as nearly everything between them would.

Perhaps she’d tie his hands or blindfold him to heighten his senses - make each thrust quake throughout his limbs and set his teeth to grinding - but so would he be content to do the same for her.

At a quicker pace now, he considered how he’d like very much to tie her up on that selfsame bed, perhaps her wrists at first, so she could use her legs to lock him at her sex. But soon he’d like to bind her ankles, too, and spread her until her eyes watered sweet tears. Then he could work her until she was begging for release...and at the last moment slip away...leaving her open to much and more of his machinations.

He smiled, imagining the sounds she might make. It was time for some escalation, then.

He thumbed his head, where a bead of liquid had formed, and then went back to stroking. He brought his free hand to pressure the base of his shaft and then lower places. As much as he wanted to come, he wanted to exercise a few more ideas, so he kept himself from rocking his hips to intensify the experience.

What if he held her flush to the windowpane? Would her nipples harden at the chill? Or would the Warrior’s exhibitionist tendencies finally reveal themselves? If he fucked her at the window, would she imagine the way she might look from the street beneath? Would she grow wetter if she thought a passerby might commit the sight of her breasts flat against the glass to please himself later?

What if she liked the idea so much that she came upon the glass?

He had to laugh at himself. By then, his face was red with lust and his hips strained against the bliss they already bore. It wouldn’t be long before he came. How much longer would it be before she arrived?

Perhaps a final scenario would do the trick -

Breathing through his mouth, he considered how she might react if she were to walk through his door that very instant and see him begetting release. Oh, if she commanded him to finish he’d be simply delighted to obey, to let his heels bore into the bed so he could thrust into his own hand. He thought the splendid twist of her lips would be the last thing he saw before surrendering to rapture and finally letting go.

He turned his head and moaned into the covers, knowing he was close. Even as he stroked, he kept his ears trained for the sound of that doorknob turning, her footsteps down the hall. He held his breath. And came.

His seed landed on the covers - he made a note to tidy before she arrived in earnest - and on his shoulder - which pleased him, for some reason. A tiny bit of pride. With heavy breaths, and a new clarity, he pondered how he would ever make up his mind once she'd arrived. Although he loved coming inside her, so too was he curious to test his aim...

Yes, he would have to evaluate the state of his room all over again. Perhaps fetch some more wood for the fire, pick out clean garments...chance change the sheets? Or perhaps that would be wasteful, considering the nature of his plans for the rest of the evening.

[blackestnight]

Who’s more likely to convince the other to come back to sleep in the morning?

What was their first impression of each other?

tagging @vazaymir who also asked about first impressions!!! thank you both!!!!

being a mix of Farm Kid (hanami) and Career Military (aymeric), they're...not really inclined to lazing around in the mornings. hanami's generally up and gone before the sun and aymeric isn't that far behind, although hanami's a natural early riser whereas aymeric became one out of habit, so given the chance he'll at least try to sleep in. that said, being an adventurer now means that hanami hops time zones a lot, which can really do a number on her sleep schedule—if she's getting in at two or three in the morning she'll absolutely roll back over and go back to sleep after she first wakes up. gods all help aymeric if he doesn't have anything requiring his immediate attention that morning because she will lay on him to keep him in bed. it's fine, they deserve all the naps.

as for first impressions...i wrote a little bit about this but tl;dr my reading of both the lodestone stories and some dialogue from ARR is that aymeric's promotion came sometime between the end of 2.0 and when we actually meet him in 2.whatever patch, so the first time he saw her was as a lieutenant trying to help clean up the mess that the fake inquisitor had left in the central highlands. not that he talked to hanami, or anything; he happened to see her from a distance while she was running errands around whitebrim, and between the fact that she a) had scales b) had bright pink hair and c) was ripping the local levemete a new one at the top of her lungs, she was kinda hard to miss. he thought she was cute, and after hearing first drillemont and then haurchefant talk about her, he thought she must be very brave/strong/noble/insert appropriately heroic adjectives here. but that was his impression of hanami, the warrior of light. his impression of hanami the person, when he first met her and alphinaud in dragonhead, was that she seemed quiet, and uncomfortable, and much more observant than anyone seemed to be giving her credit for. ...and alright yes she was hot, that's a given. but seeing how distinct her behavior was from the persona the legends painted sparked even more interest than he'd already had.

hanami didn't notice him at all until the intercessory, because why the hell would she go around chatting up random knights? she had better things to do. so her first impression of aymeric was of a smiling, scheming ishgardian lord in all his finery and secrecy, and she mostly spent the duration of the meeting fantasizing about breaking his nose—especially after his offhand comment about the holy see withholding supplies vital to the survival of her countrymen living as refugees in mor dhona. she already had a bad opinion of ishgardian knights, considering their infamous hospitality (dragonhead notwithstanding) and the fact that, while obviously the game can't single out a player character's race too often in character interactions, you're not telling me that someone with scales and horns wouldn't get some Looks, especially not from the more xenophobic coerthans. she wasn't inclined to give him the benefit of any doubt and the fact that he had to play mouthpiece for the holy see didn't help at all.

so, first impressions: mixed bag. thank god for aymeric's persistent charm and Genuine Good DudeTM energy, because hanami was very determined to hate him.

[vergess]

what are your ffxiv ships?

*cracks knuckles* Oh baby strap in, I have so many, and I cannot possibly put them in a properly ranked order, so this will be chaos.

Alphinaud/Estinien is my #1 favourite, I live and die for this ship. Estinien's lowkey marriage proposal in 5.5 absolutely slayed me. I fell out of my chair and onto the floor, injuring my arm pretty significantly in the process when I saw it. Like, what's more gay, being gay, or whatever these assholes have going on?

Haurchefant/Aymeric(/Estinien?). I'm not one for self insert ships, and Aisling (my WoL) isn't a self insert anyway but a fully fledged OC who is "conserved" (ask me about my binormativity in Eorzea headcanons!) and not interested in men. But I am not immune to Haurchefant!! So, Aymeric is my preferred vessel for Hauchefant shipping content. Estinien can also be there, because Estinien is clearly Aymeric's good-terms ex (probably the fucked in Knight School). And Haurchefant is a good sport, he'd absolutely be down for whatever weird shit Aymeric and Estinien still have going on. Three's a party, babyyyyy.

I actually used to struggle mightily with finding Haurchefant content I could enjoy, but then AO3 author WonderMint's Sad Boys in Snow collection was like "bitch I have you SO covered you don't even KNOW" which is why I'm now a hardcore Haurchefant/Aymeric believer.

Jannequinard/Leveva. Fun fact: Leveva has an adult Hyur model and I'm a lalafell so I didn't realize she is Really Short. So I didn't even know this was a ~problematic~ ship until people started bitching me out about my extensive sexual headcanons for them on twitter, when people started screaming about her ~only being 16~ at me. Which, IMO, makes it that much fucking funnier that she's the only motherfucker with both sense and spine in that relationship. I mean not a lot of sense, but Janne is simply not going to be takign the Sensible Adult lead in anything.

Anyway, IMO, the reason Leveva took Rufin's name as her secret identity is because Janne accidentally called her by her dad's name in bed (they were dating in college), and instead of getting pissed she was like, "OH FUCK!!! BOYO YOU HAVE SOLVED IT!!!"

Sadu/Cirina. I used to be a WoL/Sadu shipper but Endwalker was like, "no no, we can do better," and they were right. I was a fool. I had all of the pieces, but I never put them together. Sadu is the most extreme Top on the planet. Cirina is the most submissive and breedable character in the game. They literally go into politics together. Somehow, I just never put the pieces together.

That's okay, Ishikawa and the other writers gently held my hands and guided me to the obvious answer.

Alisaie/Lyse. Stormblood was so good to me on this front, but alas, both of them grew up and grew apart into bigger responsibilities, so they're good-terms-exes now. Sometimes when they're feeling especially nostalgic and depressed about the way life has turned out, they might fantasize about a different, better world where there weren't so many horrific catastrophes that tore them onto different paths. But mostly they're just glad for the time they spent together.

Alphinaud/Alisaie(/Estinien?). I like twincest. We all know this about me. But what really fucks me up about this ship is, Alphinaud's adoration for Estinien is about the most obvious thing on the planet, right? But when you stop to think about it... Estinien and Alisaie are extremely similar characters. In Trust fights they even have the same voice lines. They both have crippling abandonment issues which they sublimate into running off on their own. They both obsess over high output DPS and stabbing things to avoid looking at their own insecurities. They both prize Alphinaud's attention and approval more than they're willing to admit. They wear their hair the same way.

In conclusion, Alphinaud has A Type, and no matter how much his head says he should stick to good respectable people like Arenvald or Maxima, his heart is only interested in half-feral gremlins he really, REALLY should not stick his dick in.

Also I think it would be extremely funny if Alisaie got super competitive about sex, and Estinien was just like, "ma'am I am 35, I have outgrown sex competitions, please ma'am, please do not do this."

Estinien/Varshan or Vrtra. All the emotional baggage of incest, now with interspecies flavour! Extremely fucking hilarious to me that Nidhogg killed Estinien's little brother, so Estinien adopted Nidhogg's litter brother post-mortem. Also, post-EW, if you talk to Estinien at the bar, he outright admits that Vrtra is just sugaring him. How does this man have so many pocket-sized shotas after his dick? Sure, sure, Varshan is just a puppet that Vrtra uses to move around town, but like. Dude. You made your body look like a 11 year old boy and then had eyefucking contests with Estinien.

This is like a Thing with him. This man is catnip to shotas.

Raubahn/Nanamo. I've talked about this before, but the pining!!! Oh my god the pining!!!!! That scene at the end of Stormblood when they realized that their time together had come to an end broke my heart. To be kept apart by the vagaries of their ages, their duties, their positions in the Ul'dahn class structure, and then to become truly peers in the worst imaginable way: by having the be separated forever... oh my god.

Oh my god it's so good.

Oh my fucking god it's so good.

Alphinaud/Sad Garlean Men. Jullus, Maxima, Gaius... probably Zenos if the writing was right? If Estinien is catnip for Shotas, Alphinaud is catnip for Sad Garlean Men. He just goes so well with all of them, in such varied ways. Talking diplomacy and alchemy with Maxima. Coping with the horrors and costs of war from the position of command with Gaius. Rebuilding from the ashes of a destroyed life with Jullus.

A long, long, looooong time ago (I'm talking around Heavensward) there was a common hypothesis that Alphinaud was actually part Garlean, and that's why his magical skills were so disastrous even though he more than had the necessary intellectual skills. I think the idea that maybe his grandmother or something was Garlean would be a fun twist on this (since obviously we know his parents are Sharlayan now lol).

Whatever the case, something about the way Alphinaud interacts with Garlean characters was always unusually delicate-yet-tense in a way that lends itself well to romantic interpretation.

Nero/Cid. All you need to know here is, every time Nero is even slightly inconvenienced, he serves Cid with divorce papers, and every time he experiences one (1) moment of joy, he demands they get remarried. This has happened at least 7 times by Stormblood, and unfathomably more by Endwalker.

Urianger/Assorted College Lesbians. "Urianger's Girls" is clearly slang for lesbian at the Studium. Moenbryda, Mikoto, Alisaie... it's a rite of passage. You cannot truly be a Studium Lesbian(tm) until you find yourself fucked up over Urianger's mysterious gender powers*. His extreme emotional vulnerability to any woman who shows him even a modicum of genuine kindness and respect is so wild.

*Urianger is a he/him trans woman, and his adoption of Astrology in a place without a fucking sky was his transition. I am not joking. I am dead serious. I can, have, and will again fight people about this.

Urianger/Thancred. Unfortunately for all the college lesbians, Urianger got married to Thancred and raised children together in the First and now they're just happily touring the world together like retirees on an RV trip. I love that for them.

Ryne/Gaia. Honestly, anyone who played the Eden raids ships this, I feel like I don't need to explain it. But I'm gonna!!!!!

Two young women born into the world as perfect opposites, the oracles of dark and light. Both stripped of anything approaching a normal childhood. Coming together as mirror images to rebuild a broken world. Overcoming indescribable horrors and eldritch magics to retire to the city and just been Teens together having coffee dates and going to festivals and shit.

I love them.

Also in Eden 12 in French dialogue, Ryne and Gaia use terminology for each other that "technically" and be used to refer to friends, but generally refers to romantic partners. The equivalent of calling eachother "girlfriends" in english, where yeah, sure, it could be platonic, but like... it's clearly not.

So they're canon, I am not taking criticism at this time.

[aroseyetbloomedwrites]

Theme: Somnus [A Francel/Haurchefant Fanfiction]

Will be cross posted later to: PhoenixUnknown. I am Tired

Rating: [M] Lemon on the citrus scale.

Category: M/M

Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV

Pairing: Francel de Haillenarte/Haurchefant Greystone

Summary: Exploration of the kink borne of Somnophilia between two secret but not so secret lovers. They never fooled anyone, but everyone will play along for the sake of propriety. Or something. 

A one word prompt given me by my FC. Which I have honestly never, ever done before because it so rarely compels me which is why I never post one word prompts. But, well--here we are.

Sneak peek: 

          It was something they had spoken of only briefly, merely in passing as their passion grew and simmered beneath their skin. A festering love grown from childhood, to Knight and Lord of their respective camps, their near-and-yet-far dwellings. Where only furtive kisses beneath lamplight and a moon missing in the sky was safest. When, with but a touch of hands brought them to a heavily closed oaken door room, locked, barred, and a bed could finally be proffered. For, Francel deserved not the cold wall, nor stone ground, deserved not even the idea someone might turn a corner, find them in some filthy closet amongst Francel’s carefully inventoried provisions. Hidden between table legs, buried to the hilt and suffocating this beauty with a too large hand so not a heavenly sound may escape. Never this, but only a soft fur rug beneath exquisite toes to be swept off feet, cushioned upon a bed, warm and downy soft. To be kissed with reverence, and for silken fingers to dance up the muscles of his arms, into star-kissed tresses, held close and beloved. 

          When the fancy strikes, when the chance arrives, their once in a blue moon to play. Safe. Not too extreme. To fit the delicate sensibilities of his more shy and inexperienced, dearest friend, most precious of lovers. His Rose.

          Somnophilia.

          Francel had taken their discussion to heart, to head. Though knowing it had been intended for himself, felt his courage compounded the longer he thought, daydreamed, fantasized.

          Corentiaux does not hardly bat an eyelash when Francel carries himself into Camp Dragonhead, hat off when through the doors. Highlighted by the fire still burning, and Haurchefant’s right hand man standing at attention for him. He’d been bowed over the map table, pouring over something or another. Francel gives him an easy smile which sets the man at ease, but certainly does nothing for the fluttering in his breast. Cavalier pressed to his sternum, as if that would hide the way his heart strove to choke him.

          “My lord has taken his rest at last.” Corentiaux tells him, it is terribly late in the night and Francel can only nod solemnly. 

          “I suppose he has, and without sup as well I suspect.” And holds up a parcel neatly tied in one large knot with all four corners at its top. Corentiaux chuckles knowingly, and is none the wiser of its contents. “I think he can suffer an awakening tonight if it spares him a sugar crash in the morn.” Francel continues. 

          “Of course, my lord! Shall I show you the way?” 

          “Nay, I know it well. Thank you, kindly.” 

          A sweet smile betrayed his intentions most wicked. 

          Just as Corentiaux had said, Haurchefant lay in bed, the blankets around him pulled to his chest and his head was turned into the downy of a pillow. Truly he must have been exhausted, for under most circumstances Francel knew the man would have started awake. Not a word of complaint from he as he crept forward, and suspects, perhaps because it was himself Haurchefant kept his ease. Somehow, someway--is able to sense the love of his aether, abundantly warm and wanting of him. The cloth of his parcel falls away at his worrying fingers, nothing but a securely wrapped bottle of oil left in his trembling fingers, and a trail of large kerchiefs on the floor from the locked door to the foot of Haurchefant’s bed. 

          The fireplace dwindled low, and glowed a warm orange, warmth still radiated; and yet Francel knows better than to pull down the weighted blankets, and instead crawls beneath from the foot. Trails the tip of his tongue against an exposed ankle before settling atop Haurchefant’s knees with care. Tongue in cheek, breath barely kept in check as his mouth finds the heady bulge in Haurchefant’s front. The weight of it against his questing mouth makes his heart leap and his own prick twinge with want. 

          So, sneaking fingers find the hem of sleeping trousers and pull, pull, slide… until Haurchefant is free, swelling slowly beneath his nose. The fabric lost in the sea of their blankets. Francel bites his lip, peeks up from the covers cradling his head, to the hard stomach and gently moving, chiseled chest before him-sleep still deep, and quietus snores muted through the feather blanket. With Haurchefant so unfettered, slides eagerly his tongue over the hefty length lain heavy against Haurchefant’s hip. Drinks deep that heady taste as his tongue remaps contours he’s tasted before. Draws gently his firming glans into his wanting mouth, peach and wet, suckling at him with care, a gentle roll of his tongue over the tip, around, and around. Every draw upon the cock head soft, and sweet, quiet and loving. As are the hands which slide up Haurchefant’s legs, pressing them apart to slide more easily betwixt rather than rest upon. Fingers first find themself past the rubber stopper of the bottle and now newly shining with oil, transferred slick between Haurchefant’s legs. A wet finger finds the subtle part between his Knight and presses carefully within. Slow and gently working circles to ease him open, and to accept more of him in without tension. Testing forward in askance, and forcefully taking nothing. 

          Above him, Haurchefant groans but does not awaken. For wet dreams are nothing new to he, and rarely do they waken him but for the end when discomfort takes him. While blissfully more intense than normal, his aching body is too weary to let him up. So this man lays in brow furrowed ecstasy, the heat rising so that he has to push the covers from his chest in his sleep as sweat begins to bead and shine. 

          Francel can feel the length as it hardens and swells against his tongue. Sucking more of him in before he becomes too great to contain, relishing the weight of him on his jaw, the growing strain which aches and makes him harder yet to contain. Saliva wet on peach lips bruising, gleaming on a shaft which slides in and out from such noble tiers. His throat a distant ache for the exaltion of feeling his love down his throat until he is too, too engorged to do so. It comes too soon for Francel, when Haurchefant’s cock forms too rigid, and his throat reflexively closes around the glans of it where it tries to slide, he croons wistfully around the mouthful which stretches thin his weary lips. One day, one day he wishes to deep throat Haurchefant at his fullest, feel him bulge in his throat--for now, contents himself with the mouthful he manages, a comforting half length his tongue can twist around, just as his finger does to the knuckle. Haurchefant has begun to tremble. 

          With Haurchefant stuffed within his mouth thus, tongue a clever race up and down the shaft, another finger parts Haurchefant. The oil slick and helps him slide home, and, with the spread of those two digits within, Haurchefant’s back arches off the bed in a fine curve. Cock pressed against Francel’s throat a near thing to choking, but Menphina--since it’s his, he’ll do anything for him that he might feel so good. As he nears the end, the subtle upwards thrust into his throat becomes steady repetition, the breath ragged from his nose on every upwards drag before the next effort to swallow him whole - there are hands in his hair, curled tightly, pushing him away, but not letting him go far. And, when Francel looks up, the blankets thrown away, Haurchefant is peering down, bleary eyed and breathless. Two fingers are still buried in a suddenly much tighter ass, clever thumb stroking a heavy sack. Haurchefant moans then, sweat sticking sleep mused hair to his temples and cheeks. The flush of heat in his ears, and creeps steadily down his neck. One hand releases Francel to put knuckles to his teeth, cut upon. Eyes on him, and him alone.

          That Look…

          Dodging forward, Francel put powerful thighs over his slim hips, whets his mouth at the brush of his prick where once slender fingers had been. Thirst nigh unquenchable. And Haurchefant is so, so ready--eager even in how he writhes on the bed, the roll of powerful muscles beneath taut pale skin. Francel quivers to see it, that mouth open and left wanting. He bows over Haurchefant, beating breast a whisper caress against Haurchefant chest as he takes those lips. Hips hitch higher, and the press of a wet glans an easy slide within, then. Haurchefant sighs in bliss to take him, puts weakened arms around trembling shoulders to cradle the smaller ever closer. Francel is left breathless, needing only press forward to fill himself within and is met with no difficulty. Haurchefant smiles against Francel’s mouth, sleepy and droll, a slow and lazy kiss with the barest roll of tongues set to tease and test. Francel was easy, and comforting to take, there was no test of it, no challenge leaving him striving and heaving, wincing and waning. Just as he fit easily all within his mouth, soft, snug, the perfect mouthful, so too did he within here as well. And Haurchefant loved him so completely, unadulterated, for all of him. From the soft press of unchapped lips against his own, near flaxen hair a brush against his forehead, to the clutch of soft thighs against his arse where Francel rocked with care against him. A soft grind which made him hum and awe with approval, and with his mounting gratification. He kept Francel close with legs locking around his middle, head set to swimming when Francel managed to sit up again and grind into him. Slender fingers drift along the plains of his chest, run across every scar with unhidden adoration, press into every divot of roving muscle, slide against the musculature along the sides of his ribs, which bring a smile and draw forth a breathless laugh from Haurchefant, the ticklishness erotic in itself. Those hands pressing upon his hips, thumbs stroking over prominent hip bones. 

          And oh, how he thrusts, inexperienced, but eager, listening to every sound Haurchefant murmurs, moans, keens so that he may know how Haurchefant wants it, how he likes it. Tries his damndest to give him everything he asks for. How the sensation drowns Francel, has eager fingers plucking hungrily at Haurchefant’s hefty cock. Fingers usually strung upon the piano run just as deftly the length of his shaft. The firmness of his grip, its surety there near as natural as it were along the neck of cello; and Haurchefant felt so satisfactorily played. Notes just as clear were wrung from his throat as they were from Francel’s instruments. And, he knows how naturally Francel cannot last under such duress. Pinned thus between his love and his legs, long fingers twined ‘round his shaft to thumb his cock head, and stroke his length to the sharp jut of his hips. Like a snow halo fanned out upon his downy pillow, his head is thrown back, lips a moving prayer as Francel brings him closer. How furiously hot fingers work at him, and the slide of Francel’s prick in, out, and in, brings their joining to white hot focus. But, Francel cannot last him, and eagerly sighs his ecstatic bliss when sweet release finds him. His hips a static stutter as climax takes him and his seed spreads warmth within his wanting knight. Francel though heavy with lethargy nearly taking his weary limbs, still moves. The slip of his small, softened prick without, that he can untangle from Haurchefant therein, lean t’ween his legs instead, bowed over the swollen length and ease him once more into his wet mouth. Vulgarly assaulted by the clench of a too eager throat, and the hot press of a soaking wet tongue… Finds that there is a clenching knot in Haurchefant’s stomach, it ravels tighter, slides with sticky warmth within his belly until with a sigh escalating into a blissful outcry; he too is met with his release at every insistent bob of Francel’s flaxen head. How admirably, with loud gulps that his Lordling swallows him up, the clumsy lave of a tongue around those sensitive ridges of his glans until every over-sensitive drop is wrung free and slides down Francel’s gullet.

          Together they eagerly clasp together, Haurchefant bringing sleep, and now sex weary limbs around Francel to cage him in, rolls so that they are chest to chest on their sides. His broad shoulders block the Lord from the doorway, though securely locked, felt his protectiveness swell. Their legs a tangle in twisting sheets that Haurchefant and he struggle to bring up to their necks. Sharing in the glowing warmth of their room, their nearness of body mirrored the nearness of their hearts.

[pudgy-puk]

so, one thought i have been returning to frequently over the past several weeks is concerning zenos

and it is that not since og sephiroth has squeenix presented a villain so totally sexlessly and yet wound up with a very large and incredibly thirsty and eroticized fandom for them, and it makes me wonder if, since 4.2 and especially the 4.2 stinger is what it is, sephiroth’s meta trajectory over the compilation might be an informative and useful thing to consider

now, let me clarify my terms here

first off, what i mean by “sexlessly presented.” i do NOT mean anything about the character’s attractiveness, nor do i mean to say said character is asexual, nor do i say anything about the validity one way or another of sexy fanart/fanfic concerning the character. what i mean is that the creators of the work went to some lengths to avoid either presenting the character as sexual or in an eroticized way, positive or negative. just a big “mu” there on the topic of character sexuality. this is very much a doylist (out-of-universe) analysis rather than watsonian (in-universe) going on here, so i’ll go in further, and in doing so bring up the other final fantasy villains whose presentation cannot be described that way as counterexamples.

so! sex in the presentation of a character can refer to one of two (or both) facets, i’m going to phrase here in the form of questions: “does the work care to inform the audience about that character’s sexuality/sexual interiority?” and “does the work invite its audience to consider the character’s sexual attractiveness to them personally?” if the answer to either of those questions is “no,” that indicates the character was presented sexlessly. do note that all of this is concerning how the creators intended the character to be read, which is not the same as audience reaction; “i think [character] is hot therefore they were presented sexually”/”i think [character] is ugly therefore they were presented sexlessly” are not valid responses here. --in fact it’s important to note that presenting an “ugly” character in a sexual way is a common tactic to increase audience revulsion; presenting a character sexually doesn’t have to mean titillation or pleasant fantasizing. also important to note is that, for those questions, the answer to one can be “yes” while the answer to the other is “no,” and to further elucidate this, i’mma grab two other final fantasy villains as counterexamples, ultimecia and seymour.

ultimecia is, i would say, an example of the answer to the first question being “no” but the second question being “yes,” due to her character design and the long history of male gaze in visual works. cut of outfit, posing of character, angles of shots, yadda yadda, y’all should know this please don’t ask me to redo the past sixty years of film criticism in a tumblr post for free. and despite the eroticization of ultimecia’s character design, in the work there’s basically nothing regarding what she thinks and feels concerning sex, who or what she’s interested in if indeed she is interested in anything at all. (do note: for the purposes of this analysis, i do count explicitly confirming a character to be asexual as presenting them sexually; essentially because in so confirming it does inform the audience about the character’s sexual interiority). meanwhile, seymour is an arguable example of the reverse situation; the audience isn’t invited to think sexy thoughts about seymour (most of FFX fandom considers him ugly/repellant) but we do have something of an idea of the character’s sexual interiority because of how plot-relevant his marriage proposal and his relationship (such as it were) with yuna are. so yeah, in summary both characters are presented sexually though in very different ways. 

i would say that zenos is presented in such a way that the answers to both questions are “no”: the work offers no insight regarding the character’s sexual interiority, nor does its presentation of the character encourage sexual consideration in the audience. yes, zenos is handsome, with his long blond hair and striking features, but that is not the same. all we ever see of his skin is his face, he is always clothed in armor bulky and concealing--its silhouette obliterates that of his own body, disguises it to look like a Scary Monstrous Thing rather than anything sensual or fleshy. his motions and poses are intended to make the audience fear and be awed by him--his slow walk is to inspire dread and impress the audience with his power, not to seduce, when he stands he looms intimidatingly. within 4.0 itself, no other character is shown as thinking or feeling anything sexual about him--indeed, that’s explicitly shot down in the scene where nameless characters we understand to be bitter and jealous of fordola accuse her of gaining her position via sexual favors to zenos, which we know did not happen and have further reinforced later in her post-experimentation scene, with her in her underwear with zenos and aulus and it being totally serious and focused solely on the surgical aspect. similarly, zenos as a being with a sexuality is unaddressed--yes, there is fandom interpretation of his feelings towards the player character as potentially sexual, but 1) fandom does that with literally everyone and 2) thanks to characters like haurchefant and aymeric, we do actually have something of a model for what it can look like when romantic/sexual interest towards the player character is textual, and zenos don’t do it. so--strictly in the context of 4.0 text, yes, i would say zenos is presented near-totally sexlessly, both as a character for audience consumption and as an in-universe person whose sexual inner life is left unaddressed. 

and yet, like the last time squeenix made a villain a handsome man and presented him sexlessly, he’s gotten an enormous and enormously horny fandom. now, the compilation of ffvii has acknowledged and capitalized on this response, but it remains to be seen if the same will happen (or happen the same way) in the patches in the 4.x series. it’s interesting to me then that not only has zenos been “brought back to life” (i remain unsure if it’s the genuine article or some manner of magitek/ascian fuckery), but the same installment that did so also introduced asahi, frighteningly devoted zenos fanboy extraordinaire. this could go a lot of directions, it remains to be seen which one will be chosen.