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rune-writes · 7 months

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Autumn Moon Traditions

Fandom: Final Fantasy XVI

Word Count: 2922

Rating: G

Pairing: Clive Rosfield/Jill Warrick

Summary: Twenty years has passed since Jill first witnessed the Mid-Autumn Festival in Rosalith Castle. Now she finds herself in the kitchens, helping Molly bake mooncakes as Clive means to bring the tradition back to the hideaway.

Notes: written for the Clive/Jill Autumn Moon 23 event on twitter.

Read on AO3.

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The Rosarians used to hold a harvest festival in mid-autumn every year. Everyone would gather around in the town square with a big bonfire, and they’d laugh and dance and share all the harvests they’d gathered the past week. Some of the more well-off families would hold small banquets and gatherings. They’d set up little altars in their homes with fruits and cakes as an offering to the Moon Goddess. The Archduke’s family, however, had a more subdued tradition. They would hold a ritual in the garden, beautifully decorated with white draperies and banners, where platters of round yellow cakes called mooncakes were served at the center. Here the nobles would have their feast.

On Jill’s first mid-autumn festival, she’d asked the Cook if she could watch them prepare. It’d fascinated her. She had no such celebrations in the North. So the Cook had let her on the condition that she didn’t disturb any of the kitchen staff. They had had to prepare a hundred batches at the least, if not more. Some were for the Archduke’s ritual and feast, others would be given to the less fortunate people.

“‘Tis the time for gratitude,” the Cook once told her. “For the bountiful harvest the Goddess has given us, and to pray for another bountiful year after.”

So Jill had watched with rapt attention at the way the mooncakes were made, the delicate hands the cooks used to form such perfect round pastries, and the variety of pastes they’d used as fillings. She’d tried one when a kitchen staff offered. The crust broke easily in her mouth. Then she carefully chewed against the thick paste, rolling it against her tongue, feeling it stick to the gaps between her teeth. It was not something she had ever tasted before, but once she managed to gulp it down, she lapped her tongue, licked her lips and teeth clean, and found that she had, unexpectedly, enjoyed it.

The kitchen staff had giggled when Jill reached for another.

“Another time, my lady,” she’d said, gently wiping fallen crumbs from Jill’s dress. “I’ll be sure to save you a portion.”

Jill had beamed.

Some twenty years had passed since then. Now Jill found herself in the hideaway’s kitchens, helping Molly recreate those self-same mooncakes she’d tasted as a child.

“Can’t believe we’re doing this, after all these years,” Molly, their head cook, said, checking the oven to see whether their previous batch was ready.

“A nice little change of pace won’t hurt anyone,” Jill replied. “We’ve had little to no celebration since moving here—not that we had any at all before. It’ll help boost everyone’s morale.”

“We barely have any harvests to celebrate, though.” Molly shut the oven, then leaned against the table counter. Jill glanced at her from her corner where she was making the little round pastries. Molly shot an accusing stare. “Tell me true: whose idea was it really?”

“Well, it wasn’t mine, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Molly quirked her eyebrow in question. Jill sighed, though she couldn’t help the small smile parting her lips.

It had been no single person’s idea, to be perfectly honest. She had been speaking to Mid, who, after smelling a whiff of fresh-baked cookies from the ale hall, had suddenly told her of the cakes Cid sometimes brought her when autumn came. They’d sounded a lot like mooncakes to Jill, which had then prompted her to recall the festivals she’d seen in Rosaria. And then Gav had come and asked what they’d been talking about, and sounded quite keen on these autumn festivals as he’d never seen them himself. Several others had followed, chiming in with opinions and memories of similar yet somehow different traditions from all corners of the Twin Realms.

Then night came. Jill was standing on the rear stacks with her arms folded, half-listening to the silence, half wandering distant memories she’d thought long forgotten. Laughter and music and bonfires flooded her mind—warmth she could almost feel, a sweetness she could almost taste. And then she saw it: a flitting image, swiftly flying in and out of her consciousness as though carried on the wings of a bird. Under the brightest full moon, Clive had smiled so joyously…

Footsteps shattered her reverie. They hadn’t been loud per se—merely thudding footfalls over wooden planks—but Jill had come to familiarize herself with it over the years that she could recognize Clive’s approach in her sleep. He was coming out of the main deck in his nightshirt, smiling as their eyes met.

“On a midnight stroll?” she asked, returning his smile.

“Sort of.” He stopped beside her, leaning his arms down on the railing. Cool wind drifted from the lake. Jill shivered, the heat she’d felt receding back to memory.

The lake was tranquil that night, broken only by the quiet ripples stirred by the wind. The clouds parted, and the moon—waxing and almost full—bathed them in gentle light.

“Something on your mind?” Clive asked after a while.

“Nothing, just…” She gazed upon the moon. It seemed to beckon her, teasing those long-forgotten memories she’d locked deep in the far reaches of her mind. “It’ll be a full moon soon, won’t it?”

Clive, who’d been training his eyes on her profile, slowly shifted them to the sky. “I believe so,” he said.

“There was a time, when we were children, when we snuck out of the castle together, wasn’t there? I wanted to see the bonfire—or… you wanted to show me the bonfire. But the crowds were larger than we’d expected, so you kept your hand on mine throughout the entire night, never letting go.”

Clive’s soft chuckle filled the silence. “Yes, I remember. There was a huge feast, probably bigger than our feast at the castle, and there was music too. Lively music. You wanted to dance, but you had no knowledge of any Rosarian dance, so you asked me to show you.”

“I believe you asked me to dance first.”

“Only because you looked like you would’ve died had you not joined them around the fire.”

Jill laughed. It was true. She remembered it now. The sight of a blazing fire at the heart of town, the merriment ensuing as people laughed and talked and toasted and served each other platters of fruits or cakes or soup. Then the band stood on stage and started playing music. It had seemed like a cue. People young and old, men and women stood and found their partners. She’d watched their feet, a flighty sort of movement unlike anything she had ever seen. Her body had coiled tight, begging to join. So when Clive tugged her hand and asked for a dance, she had gladly accepted it.

That seemed like a lifetime ago now. She watched the moon. No doubt in a few days’ time it’d be the brightest night yet.

Beside her, Clive spoke, half-amused:

“Murdoch wanted to kill me afterwards. Someone untowards could have kidnapped us and asked for ransom, he’d said.”

“You never could stay out of trouble, could you?”

“Never when it concerned you.”

She looked at him then, and found him looking back. His lips had broken to a soft smile; he reached for her hand.

“There’s barely any harvest,” he said, “and I doubt we can get a fire up, lest we want to burn all our stalls. But we have food, and we have music.” He closed his hand around hers. “What say you? Should we bring the mid-autumn festival back?”

Bringing the festival back hadn’t been Jill’s intention when she brought up the topic, but she wasn’t surprised when she found herself easily agreeing to it. Clive’s smile grew so large, part of her wondered if he’d already wanted to bring the tradition back. Too long had they been robbed of their identity. It was as much as his wish as it was hers, and probably every other resident of the hideaway’s, to see some semblance of normalcy return to their lives. And if Molly was looking for someone to blame for this unprecedented task of preparing several batches of mooncakes, then she should as well blame herself. It had been her cookies which had prompted Mid’s wistful recollections. Those talks had probably reached Clive one way or another.

“But it’s not as if you hate this, Molly,” Jill now said when she was finishing their third batch. She wiped her hands on her apron and turned around to look at the older woman. “You love baking pastries.” And Clive had made sure they received all the eggs and sugar and flour they needed for it, not to mention their backyard had been thriving lately.

Molly shrugged. “I’m not saying I hate it. It’s just… sort of nostalgic, is all.”

The number of mooncakes they planned to make was a far cry from the amount the Rosalith Castle Cook baked every year, yet still two people were not enough. Yvan, who’d been taking care of their patrons for most of the day, came in to help in the afternoon, as well as Mid, Tarja, and a couple others. Mid, however, almost burned the entire kitchen when she set the oven fire too high. They immediately sent her off to help with the others afterwards. She grumbled, but knew kitchen work would be too much for her.

They made it in time with the final batch of mooncakes late the next night. Then the full moon came the evening after with a clear sky and the brightest night anyone could ask. Everyone gathered on the main deck where they’d set up a little stage upon which the bard would play his lute. A few even volunteered to sing. Gav unexpectedly had a decent voice. A small table to the side was set up with foods and drinks and incense to worship the Goddess. Some went outside and set off floating lanterns—a tradition from another part of the world, Jill was told.

Perched on the counter seat with a glass of ale in hand, Jill watched with a quiet smile as Mid and Otto argued about one thing or another while Tarja tried to pry Gav away from the stage. The night had grown deeper by then. More than a few had gotten a bit too tipsy and Shirleigh had long since sent the children to bed. She felt a tap on her shoulder: Clive, his face a battle between amusement and exasperation at his comrades' behaviors.

“Give them a reason to be merry, and they forgot how to hold their liquor.” Clive chuckled as he grabbed a couple bottles of ale from the kitchen counters. A group of cursebreakers broke into a fit of laughter at something one of them said. Clive’s gaze turned endearing as he watched them.

“They’re happy,” she said. “It’s been a long time since they had a reason to be.”

“What about you?”

Jill noticed a little smirk quirking his lips as he glanced at her. She scoffed, rather in good nature, and figured she’d not give him the satisfaction of knowing her mind. But perhaps it was the alcohol, or the atmosphere, or the fact that she hadn’t felt bliss for… more years than she could count. The ale glowed a light, inviting gold. Quinten’s best. The words naturally left her mouth:

“I’m happy.”

It was by no means a substantial admission, but it warmed Jill’s face nonetheless. She blamed the alcohol after all. Downing the last of her drink, she rose from her seat and smiled at Clive.

“Aren’t you happy, Clive?” she asked. “It’s not much but we have enough food to fill our bellies and clear water in the middle of the deadlands. There’s a sturdy roof to shield us from the weather and fine clothes to wear every day. It’s not much, but it’s enough cause to be grateful, wouldn’t you say?”

Jill was truly feeling the alcohol now. Her head swayed and a giddiness she couldn’t describe slowly bubbled to the surface. Clive didn’t say anything for a while. As Jill reached for the bottle in his hand, Clive stopped her. She turned to protest, but found his lips pressed gently against hers.

“I’d say that’s enough ale for the day, my lady.” Again with that little smirk. Her face burned, and definitely not because of the way his low, rumbling tone had set her pulse under fire. He took Jill’s glass from her hand quite nonchalantly and placed it on the counter. Then he reached for her hand and said, “Think a breath of fresh air is in order. I’ll leave the place to you, Molly.”

Molly responded from inside the kitchen. Jill glanced at her and saw the older woman stifling a grin.

Clive led her past Blackthorne’s forge to the rear stacks, past a group of people watching the moon and the lanterns they’d set afloat, and up the first flight of stairs toward the atrium where Shirleigh held her daily lessons. They were far from the crowd now. Sounds of the merriment could still be heard drifting from the main deck but muted in the silence. Jill took a deep breath, letting the wind cool her face.

The scent of water washed over her, along with the hint of rich burning incense. When she opened her eyes, the full moon greeted her—round and big and looking so close, she could almost make out the craters and cavities dotting its surface.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Clive murmured beside her.

When they were children, while a festivity occurred just beyond the gates, the castle itself had been more pensive and calm, with the royal minstrel performing soft, lilting music and another reciting poetry. Nobles had come from all corners of the duchy to stay for a night or two as the Archduke and Duchess entertained them to a feast under the moonlight. And once the main event was completed, everyone would retreat back to the castle proper, with Clive and Jill and Joshua forced to obey their governess that it had been time for bed.

She later learned that some of the nobles would stay up to gaze at the moon. For what reason, she never quite knew. But once when she was eleven, she'd snuck out of her room when her governess had left, and she’d gone up to the balcony, expecting to see Lord Byron with the rest of the nobles still roaring with laughter down in the gardens. But instead, she’d found Clive sitting on the parapet. The sight of his back had stopped her in her tracks, all intentions to see what the adults had been doing flying out of her mind.

The hand that was still ensconcing hers ever since they’d left the main deck now felt uncannily warm.

“Do you remember,” Jill began, “that time we met at the balcony–when we first watched the moon together?”

From the look on Clive’s face, he knew perfectly well what she was talking about. He nodded.

“I was always curious why people liked to view the moon in mid-autumn, so I snuck out to spy on Lord Byron and the rest. But the gardens were mostly empty save for a couple nobles and the minstrel. Instead, you were there, sitting quietly like you tended to do. The maidservants did tell me, though, that it was a family gathering sort of thing, to enjoy and share in the beautiful view of the moon. But they also told me of another meaning, one which carried a romantic connotation.”

“What was that?”

She looked at him, a coy smile playing across her lips. “A midnight tryst with your lover.”

Clive’s chuckle was like a soft tremble under his breath. He pulled her to him, loosely intertwining his fingers around her back. Then they began to sway, his steps leading her in a slow circular motion that teased her memory.

“Would you care to know my thoughts?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“That night you found me, I was praying to Metia that you would slip your governess and come out to the balcony.” He shook his head in disbelief. “I’d heard the tale of course—I’d seen a lot of the young maids and soldiers sneaking out at night. I’d always thought it sweet. And then that night, my thoughts wandered to you.”

Now Jill remembered. When she’d called out to him, Clive had looked so stunned, he had almost lost his footing and fallen two-story down. He’d looked at her as though looking at a specter, and when she’d confirmed that she was, indeed, real—at which she had laughed because Clive had been been silly to think she a specter—Clive had smiled so joyously, he could have rivaled the moon, or even the sun, itself.

The thought warmed her heart. Jill leaned her head on his shoulder. The bard’s lute could still be heard from the main deck. They moved slowly, falling into rhythm, with no particular set of strict movements she’d cared to learn in her childhood—not unlike the dance he had invited her on that first night, yet back then they’d been children dancing in the way children had danced.

She felt a kiss at the top of her head. Then his arms circled around her shoulders, bringing her closer.

“I love you.”

His voice came out as a whisper, a quiet confession carried by the wind into an otherwise silent night.

Jill closed her eyes, feeling the firm beating of his heart beneath her fingertips.

I love you, too.

~ END ~

#clive rosfield #jill warrick #cliji #warfield #warrose #final fantasy xvi #ffxvi #final fantasy 16 #ff16 #fanfiction #ff fanfic #ff16 fanfic

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mydisenchantedeulogy · 6 months

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I’m curious what you have for Bad Habit [Cid x Reader] from the wip game 👀 got any snippets or ideas down yet?

Thank you for asking, hun. I do have a bit written.

The context for the piece is that the reader is being a bit of a brat, and when the reader acts bratty toward Cid, he decides to punish them. The snippet isn't smutty so I'll post it without a warning or line break.

#ff16 #cidolfus telamon #cid telamon x reader #ff16 fanfic

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silverglass83 · 10 months

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Title: Steam Pairing: Clive Rosfield/Jill Warrick Fandom: Final Fantasy XVI Rating: Explicit

Summary: Clive Rosfield is more than the fallen First Shield of Rosaria and has finally embraced his fate as the Dominant of the second Eikon of fire - that of the unknown Ifrit. Knowing this, he must come to terms with what happened fifteen years ago at Phoenix Gate. However, after the events at Drake’s Head, he has far more questions than answers. Now, with a heart full of loss, confusion, and regret, Clive looks to his one anchor from the past for comfort…

#FFXVI #clive rosefield #jill warrick #ff16 #ff16 fanfic #spoiler alert #I wrote this instead of continuing the game because these two are just too much!#don't hurt these two Square Enix or I swear to god #what happens when ice and fire meet?#Steam #that's what

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confusedpandabear · 8 months

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Chapters: 2/3 Fandom: Final Fantasy XVI Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Clive Rosfield/Jill Warrick, Gav & Clive Rosfield, Clive Rosfield & Joshua Rosfield, Dion Lesage & Clive Rosfield Characters: Clive Rosfield, Jill Warrick, Gav (Final Fantasy XVI), Joshua Rosfield, Dion Lesage, Byron Rosfield, Charon (Final Fantasy XVI), Midadol Telamon, Tarja (Final Fantasy XVI) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Romantic Comedy, i guess?, Clive just wants to study, Swearing, Lots of it, everyone ships cliji, over-invested besties, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Joshua "Warrior of Love" Rosfield, Dion just wants to see Clive shirtless, Gav the MVP, Tarja done with their shit, Basically everyone's an idiot except Jill

Summary: Modern/Dormitory AU that no one asked for. Clive is a shy boi who has a crush on his pretty new neighbour. Joshua, Gav and Dion are the wingmen he never asked for.

#panda fiction #cliji #warfield #ffxvi #ff16 #ff16 fanfic #to even the odds #school au #more insanity #clive is a dork #everyone ships cliji

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11queensupreme11 · 10 months

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WHY ARE ALL THE MEN IN THIS GAME SO FUCKING FINE????????

#final fantasy xvi #final fantasy 16 #ff16 #ffxvi #elwin rosfield #clive rosfield #cidolfus telamon #barnabas tharmr #dion lesage #sleipnir #sleipnir harbard #they're so pretty #im losing my goddamn mind #i cant wait for the fanfics to come #i will be ready to read them!!!

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artofshiroginko · 9 months

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Awkward

based on this fic

#ff16 #final fantasy 16 #cidolfus telamon #clive rosfield #cidfield #cid x clive #firestorm #fanart #suggestive #minor spoilers #anyway that fanfic has done irreversible damage to me

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junie-junette · 9 months

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"Oh, Starlight". Quiiiiick sketch of my babiiiiies of the moment aka Cid and Clive from ff16 (Yep. I'm still not over it ok ? And I'll probably won't be soon). This quick sketch came to me after reading the very good fic of @/KaedeRavensdale (on twitter) "Holding Fire, Clutching Flame" (take care, spoilers in the resume !)

I'm so thankful to all the all the writers here giving me my dose of Cid and Clive, you can't even imagine !

#ff16 #final fantasy 16 #Cid x Clive #cidolfus telamon #clive rosfield #clive #cid #mm #romance #my art #fanart #fanfic #drawing #I'VE GOT TO MANY FEELS FOR THEM HELP ME #I DIDN'T READ FANFIC SINCE 2015 OKAY ?!

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ffxiii-et-al · 4 months

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Night of the Undying

Traveling as a Knight of the Undying and attendant to Joshua Rosfield is an honor beyond words to Jote. Her position comes with hazards that she knows all too well, along with unexpected gifts from the Eikon of Fire. But some gifts are burdens in disguise. Joshua knows this, and soon Jote will too. For better, or for worse, the two will bond over a gift forced upon them, that few mortals in Valisthea can imagine.

“Jote?” Joshua’s voice asked.

“Yes, your grace?” She replied, wiping her face, making sure no tears remained.

“Did you dream of dying?” His eyes were soft.

The directness of the question, made another tear squeeze out of her eye, she avoided his gaze, Joshua dropped his too.

“How did you guess?” she asked, deflecting back to him.

He smiled, though his face was devoid of any joy.

“Because the cruelty of the Phoenix is that you will live through things that others will never know of. Things that no person should carry in their heart or their memory. To know what it feels like to die…to be killed by another.”

Pre-timeskip Joshua and Jote, when they're both a little younger and a bit more naïve.

(TLDR: trauma bonding and looking for a friend)

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cloudxxiia · 7 months

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part two of the tabor scene exploration; or, joshua deals with the falsities of his beliefs.

UndyingFlame Week (Day 3)

—for @undyingflamexvi ; a joshua-centric chapter that explores his point of view through the prompts: protection and vow.

“I’ve alway believed… that the universe functioned on reciprocity. That the Mothercrystals may supply us with magic, only to take from us our livelihoods. That use of Eikons may grant us strength, only to take from us our very lives. That fire may burn with warmth and a guiding light... but it takes with it the air we breathe, takes with it the surface on which it stands to leave destruction in its wake.”

He sighed, letting his hand fall back to his lap—

“So, too, then, has the universe ever taken from me."

#UndyingFlameWeek #undyingflame #shuate #joshua rosfield #jote #ff16 #ffxvi #final fantasy 16 #our sky (can't always be this blue)#fanfic #ff16 fanfic #writing #✧˖°. fic cloud #ʚɞ*.ﾟ. ffxvi

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flowersbane · 8 months

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a scenario with a baker!reader gifting Joshua a little cake… which he happily eats (it’s carrot cake and he has no clue lol)

Idk but I wanted to share my silly little thought because I enjoyed your writing :’3

pls, this idea is so freaking cute!!! i'm so glad i finally got to write it, thank you so much for your request and patience, i hope you enjoy

(=´∀｀)人(´∀｀=)

The Trojan Cake

Joshua Rosfield x Reader

I might write another, shorter version of this where the reader bakes him a carrot cake without knowing about his carrot aversion, but, idk, let me know if anyone wants to see that. It would have to be a bit further in the future because I have some other things I'm working on that you can learn about here.

Rating: General Audiences

Word Count: 1.5k

Tags: Baker!Reader, Finally Getting Joshua To Eat Some Gosh Darn Vegetables, Fluff, Teasing, Unedited, Lots Of Appearances From Other Characters, Fun, Cutesy, Joshua Is Just A Big Golden Retriever

A new shipment of baking supplies was due to arrive today. You sway on your feet as you wait. Water laps at the wood beneath you, but you pay it no mind. Cursebreakers and laborers work on moving boxes off the ship and onto the Hideaway’s Pier.

“Carrots? Again?” Gav’s voice sounds from nearby. “And what are we supposed to do with all of these? We still haven’t gotten through the last shipment of them. There’s only so much carrot bisque a man can stomach. Soon enough, half the Hideaway’ll have orange hair and orange skin.”

Otto sighs. “Food’s food, Gav. We’ll find some use for them.”

Gav’s disgruntled expression doesn’t fade. “Unbelievable.”

Your attention is caught by someone calling your name. Mid waves you over from the ship’s deck. “You’ve got to come and see this! You’ll be grinning from ear to ear when you see how much stuff they’ve sent for you!”

You’re already grinning from ear to ear by the time you reach her side. Crates of flour, sugar, and yeast are tied down to the deck with sturdy rope. “And this is all for me?” you ask.

“You’re the one best suited for it,” Mid points out. “Now, I don’t mean to rush you but I’m pretty sure everyone at the Hideaway can already smell all the fresh baked sweets!”

“Oh, certainly,” Cole agrees as he and a handful of other Cursebreakers approach. “We’ll get these supplies to the Ale Hall,” he assures you.

“What are you going to make?” asks Mid.

You miss a beat before answering, “it’s a surprise.” In truth, you have no idea. You know the people of the Hideaway would be happy with anything you baked, but you didn’t want to fall into a boring routine. You wanted to try something new, even if you didn’t need to.

Mid only makes an excited sound from behind sealed lips. “The suspense is killing me!”

You laugh, but you know how she feels. The frustration of not knowing what you’ll bake weighs on you as well. “Well, best get to it.”

You descend from the boat and make your way back up to the main floor of the Hideaway. There are plenty of boxes that still need to be moved, so the lift is somewhat crowded. You wait for a path to be cleared before darting out.

“Have you tried chopping them up and hiding them in a stew?” Tarja’s voice catches your ear. She and Jote are crossing the Boarding Deck, clearly on their way to the Infirmary.

“If he sees them, he’ll claim he’s not hungry and refuse to eat,” Jote replies. “Not to mention, I can’t say I feel very comfortable trying to deceive His Grace.”

“They’re just carrots, Jote. I’m sure your decree says nothing against ensuring the Phoenix eats well.”

“If it were up to His Grace, I’m sure there would be.”

You continue your way into the main hall. It’s not uncommon to hear Tarja complaining about Joshua’s bad habits. You suppose this time it’s his aversion to vegetables. Especially carrots. Unfortunate, given that seems to be what the Hideaway has most of these days.

You’re halfway across the Main Deck when someone else calls your name, their voice sounding from your left. Speak of the devil. Joshua approaches with an easy skip to his step. The smile on his face tells you that he’s heard about your new arrival of supplies, but not that of the carrots’ reinforcements. Well, he might’ve and is simply choosing to ignore it. In fact, that is more likely to be the reality of things.

“I heard about the shipment of goods. Will you get to baking soon?”

If he were a dog, his tail would be wagging uncontrollably despite his cool disposition. You nod, your own smile creeping onto your face as an idea begins to form. “And you’ll be the first to get a taste.”

“Really? I will?”

You nod again. He’s always terribly eager to sample your new recipes.

He’ll have no idea. “Ah, my love, you’re brilliant.” He places a hand on either side of your head and plants a kiss on your forehead. “I’ll look forward to it.”

“You should.” You certainly are.

As he disappears on to the Boarding Deck, you dart over to the bar.

“Psst. Cole.” You wave the cursebreaker over.

“What is it?”

“Could you acquire me a crate of those carrots that just arrived? I have plans for them. Oh, but don’t let Joshua know. Keep this between us.”

He gives you a curious look, but does as you ask without question. You ask another of the cursebreakers to keep Joshua distracted for the time being. Your plans would be ruined if he were to walk in midway through.

“What, exactly, are you planning?” someone asks from behind you.

Jill runs her finger over the wooden boxes on the counter. You can’t help the little, proud gleam in your eye. “I’m going to get Joshua to eat carrots and like them,” you declare.

“Oh?”

“A carrot cake! He won’t even know they’re there.”

“I’m not sure if eating carrots in a cake counts as Joshua getting a proper intake of vegetables,” she points out.

You shrug. “Gotta start somewhere.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

“Lots.”

You, Jill, and a handful of other helpers get to work immediately. With no time to waste, the work is made lighter with more hands to share in its labor. The only thing you can’t speed up is the time of actual baking.

“Do you truly believe this will work?” Jill asks.

“I do. Although, it would be a little funny if he could tell anyway. Like some sort of carrot-sniffing bloodhound. A carrot-hound.”

“Who’s a carrot-hound?” Clive stops at Jill’s side.

“Depending on the results of this experiment, Joshua.”

Clive gives you an almost pained look. “Please do not tell me you’re planning on experimenting on my brother.”

“I promise it won’t become a regular occurrence. Probably. Most likely.”

Clive only sighs and shakes his head.

The cakes finish baking and the air is filled with the scent of freshly baked sweets. You and your assistants–now including Clive–are just finishing spreading the frosting when Joshua arrives, eyes alight with excitement. He says your name with a boyish eagerness that makes your heart squeeze. He truly has no idea. “I hope no one has prevented you from keeping your promise to me.”

You do your best not to roll your eyes. He can still be so childish at times, despite himself. “No, of course not. In fact, you’re just on time. I was about to cut the first slice.”

He smiles. “Excellent.”

He doesn’t even seem to notice how everyone pauses to watch as he takes the first bite. He closes his eyes to savor it. You press your lips together to keep your mischief from showing. “This is delicious, my love, as always.” Your heart soars. You’ve done it. And he’s none the wiser.

You exchange a knowing glance with Jill and Clive. Jill looks mildly impressed while Clive simply seems to be marveling at his brother’s obliviousness. “Alright, everyone,” you announce, “you’re all free to dig in!”

Gav arrives about a half an hour after everyone has already begun eating. He and Otto approach, standing on the other side of Clive, who has taken a seat at the bar beside Joshua.

Gav takes note of the remaining cakes. “Ooo, carrot cake, one of Otto’s favorites.”

You, Clive, and Jill freeze, eyes darting to Joshua. You practically see the life drain from his face. He turns a betrayed expression on you, like a pup who’s found his medicine at the center of his treat. By now, he’s already finished two large slices and is halfway through his third. You can’t help, you begin your apologies but the laughter in your voice steals any sincerity from them.

He practically whines your name, saying, “how could you?”

“But you liked it, didn’t you? Before you knew what it was?”

You can practically see his invisible tail and ears drooping. You’ve never seen him look so unlike the Phoenix before. It only makes you giggle more.

“I’m sorry, alright? I’m sorry.”

“I don’t know how I’ll recover from this.”

“Alright, my love, no need to be so overdramatic.”

He pouts. He actually pouts. “You’ll have to find a way to make this up to me.”

“Up to you? I did all of this for you.”

“You did all of this for yourself. I hope you’ve had your fun.”

You lean over the counter, smug as one could be. “Oh, I have.”

“Mhm.” He leans forward and places a soft kiss on your lips. You can still taste the frosting. “You better have. Otherwise, I will have eaten this for nothing.”

“You would have, at the very least, learned that you can stomach carrots. Isn’t that something?”

He laughs. “No, absolutely not. Just promise you won’t do something like this again.”

“I promise,” you draw out the word, “that it won’t become a regular occurrence.”

He rolls his eyes, but a smile toys at the corners of his mouth. “What did I ever do to deserve this?”

“Something really good, I imagine.”

His smile grows. “Must have been.”

#ff16 #ffxvi #final fantasy xvi #final fantasy 16 #ffxvi spoilers #final fantasy 16 spoilers #final fantasy xvi spoilers #joshua rosfield x reader #joshua rosfield #ff16 spoilers #fanfic

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rune-writes · 8 months

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The Stranger

Fandom: Final Fantasy XVI

Word Count: 2546

Rating: G

Pairing: Clive Rosfield & Jill Warrick

Summary: When Jill first arrived in Rosaria, fear had been the only thing occupying her mind. That is, until a friendly face decided to appear before her.

Read on AO3.

~*~*~*~*~

I was six when I first saw him. He was leaning over the parapet above the city gates along with several men on guard. He had jet-black hair and wore a simple black and white tunic with a red shirt peeking underneath. They all wore red, as did the flag flapping beside them.

Rosalith, I thought. One week’s ride from the capital. One week since Archduke Elwin took me from my home. It is your duty, Father had said, as it is mine to obey the terms of our agreement. I’d wanted to cry, but all I’d done was nod. There had been nothing to be done. Father had looked so sad—even sadder when we finally had to part. His only gift was a silver pendant that now rested over my chest. Something to keep with me, he’d said, to remind me of home.

The shadow of the gate loomed closer. I could hear the horns now, blaring loud and clear in a rhythm I now knew was the Rosarian anthem. I’d heard it enough times in the North, heard the guards singing phrases to the tune around campfires. A movement drew my eyes upward and I saw the boy staring right at me. He pointed. I didn’t catch what he did afterwards, because I’d shut the curtains close and ducked beneath the window sill.

Before I could process what I just did or whom I just saw, shouts were hollered to open the gates and then shadows slid past. Then light came, and with it were the cheers of a thousand upon thousand voices. People hooted and cried and clapped and sang, their voices rising as one like the high tides against the northwestern cliffs. I suddenly felt trapped.

Father had said that I was to be a ward, that I was no prisoner taken hostage after the fall of my homeland. I’d like to believe it so, what with the rich red velvet cushions in the carriage and the gentle ways the soldiers had treated me during our travel. But the wood now felt pressing; the bolted door was the only thing keeping me safe from the showers of praise and exclamations of triumph—triumph over a war that had lasted for several years before I could even remember.

And then the cheerings stopped, as did the carriage. Horses huffed and neighed and all around, mailed feet dropped onto the hard ground. I pulled away from the door, fighting against fear and trying to remember what Father had told me. “Your Grace,” I heard someone say. “Welcome home.” And then locks clicked. The door swung open. Blinding light entered the doorway and for a split moment, I could not see anything. Then my eyes found a hand, outstretched and not frightening at all, followed by a grizzled face I recognized who’d never strayed far from the Archduke’s side.

“My lady,” he called me, a quiet prompt to take his hand. After another heartbeat, I took it and stepped into the light.

***

The boy stood next to a woman with eyes as cold as the northernmost reaches of home. Blonde hair tied to a perfect bun, back straight, her posture spoke of nothing but regal pride. My heart quivered but I refused to let my shoulders droop. Head tilted just at the right angle. Meek. Just like what Father had told me. When the Archduke called me forward, my feet moved by themselves. I curtsied and murmured, “My lady.” Her disdain was plain in her upturned nose and refusal to acknowledge my greeting. And then I turned to the boy and murmured, “My lord.” I took a quick peek and found his eyes—the richest blue like blazing sapphire—locked into mine. It was impossible to look away, but I did so anyway, though not before I caught his smile blooming like an unfurling lily from ear to ear.

His name was Clive—Clive Rosfield—first born son of the duke, and he was nine. The grin didn’t last; a glare from the duchess cut it short. They then directed my gaze to the other boy on the duchess’ other side. Blonde fluffy hair unlike his brother’s jet-black strands; but his eyes were alike, albeit brighter like the sky.

“And this is Joshua,” the Duke went on.

Joshua’s smile was a shy curl around the edges. I’d barely offered my greeting before the duchess pulled him aside and called for the maidservants to take me to my room. “Dress her in a more…proper attire, if you please,” she said before turning in a swath of layered dress up the leftwing staircase with Joshua in tow. I heard a groan and realized it came from the Duke. The Duchess reappeared soon on the second floor, before disappearing again behind the first door. I caught a glimpse of Joshua’s bright blue eyes looking back at me before the door shut behind them.

“Well,” the Duke broke the silence. He turned toward me; I tried not to cower in front of him. “Welcome to Rosalith, the proud capital of Rosaria. This will be your home from now on.”

I kept my eyes downturned—it was not good to meet the eyes of your liege, as Father said—but I noticed the change in tone.

“Lift your head, girl.”

And I did. And whom I saw was not the sovereign who’d crushed my father's army, but a father.

He gestured for one of the maidservants. One stepped forward.

“Show her to her room and attend to her needs,” he said.

The maidservant bowed her head. “Right away, Your Grace.”

***

Perhaps somewhere in the back of my mind, I had imagined a lone room at the top of a tower, small and cramped, with furnishments barely enough to suit my needs, and I would need to call on a maidservant every time I would like to go to the washroom. Instead, what I found was a space big enough to possibly hold a host of ladies for an afternoon party. A draped bed to one side, a dressing room on the other, then a fireplace and a set of couches and coffee table along with several shelves of books lined one corner. I even had my own washroom, where hot water had been prepared in time for my arrival. She had me shed my clothes. My skin tingled as I stood naked amidst the unfamiliar stone. The light was bright enough that I noticed how pale I looked compared to my maidservant’s southern skin.

She was gathering my dress from the floor when I remembered what the duchess had said and immediately asked her not to throw my clothes away. She looked surprised, though a gentle crinkle quickly took over her hazel eyes.

“Of course, my lady,” she said. “I’ll just have these washed. For the time being, I’ll lay out a dress for you on the bed.”

She couldn’t have been more than ten years my age, I thought as I gingerly stepped into the water. My skin hissed, but after the coldness of the North and the long trek hither, the warmth was welcome to the touch. I eased into the tub and settled in the corner. My necklace, still attached to my neck, floated in the water.

The Silvermane, they’d called my father, for the unruly silver hair that ran down his shoulders akin to a lion’s mane. The necklace he gifted used to belong to Mother. A light blue crystal hung from its diamond-shaped pendant, upon which was fastened a black-indigo jewel. It looked icy cold yet somehow felt warm on my palm. When Mother was still here, I would look upon the jewel hanging around her neck with awe. I’d heard tales of Shiva the Ice Queen and had once entertained the idea that the pendant carried her essence. Mother had laughed, of course, but she’d told me afterwards that, with the right bearer, the pendant held enough magick to freeze an entire kingdom—or so her family had said, at least. She’d told me that it brought her comfort, that wherever she’d gone, home would always be with her. I felt no such comfort now. No matter how I thought about it, home was thousands of malms away, and the only thing left of it was probably already burning away in the furnace somewhere in the depths of the castle.

A heavy sigh lay over me. I let the pendant go, leaned further against the tub, hugging my knees close and submerging myself until all anyone could see were the bubbles rising up to the surface.

***

I didn’t stay long in the water—only long enough until my skin grew pink and my head hazy from the heat. When the maidservant returned, I’d finished my bath and was reaching for a towel. She fussed over me, said I should’ve stayed in the water longer. It felt odd, yet familiar, to be fussed over, so I let her.

She helped me dry myself and led me back to my chambers. A white dress made of soft silk lay on the bed. It reached my shins, the light fabric hugging my body loosely. It was a bit too big, which the maidservant also noticed, and the high neck felt rather stuffy. She promised she’d get the measurements right for my other dresses and it surprised me that I would have other dresses.

“Shall I bring some food, my lady?” she later asked. “Supper wouldn’t be until another three bells.”

I would’ve said no—I could wait another three bells—but exhaustion seemed to finally take its toll and my stomach grumbled before I could answer. The maidservant let out a chuckle, which she quickly disguised as a cough.

“I’ll see what the Cook has ready in the kitchens.”

She backed away and the door clicked shut behind her. The silence that followed, somehow, felt deafening, much more so than the crowd that had flocked our carriage on our coming. The walls loomed around me, dark and foreboding. A single fire lit the entire room, no doubt powered by the same crystal from the bath chamber. Yet despite it, I shivered. I blamed the light fabric; wished I had my old clothes back. I hoped the maidservant hadn’t really burned them in the furnace somewhere. I longed for the fur-lined cloak, the emblem of my father’s house, the way it snugly ensconced me throughout my long trek.

I longed for my father, and my mother, and the mountain peaks and the snow.

A sob threatened to burst through my tightened throat when a knock suddenly broke the silence.

“Y–Yes?” I managed.

I figured the maidservant would’ve opened the door by herself then, but the knock came again, so I wiped my tears and took deep breaths. It wasn’t the maidservant waiting for me on the other side of the door. It was the boy, first son of the Duke who, for some reason, was not the inheritor of Phoenix’s flame.

Clive Rosfield stood agape with his eyes slightly wide, and for several heartbeats we stood in silence. He spoke first, his voice sounding uncharacteristically high-pitched to me who had been surrounded by gruff old men for a week.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

And that was when I regained myself, realizing where I was and whom I was addressing. I dropped into a curtsy and stammered a “m–my lord.”

He disregarded it, taking a step forward and leaning down to peek through my bangs. I instinctively dipped my head and shuffled back several feet.

“Is there something you need?” I asked, then hastily added, “my lord.”

I felt his scrutiny and wished the walls would swallow me whole. But he didn’t push. Instead, his shadow receded, and I dared myself to look up.

He was looking at the hallway for whatever reason I didn’t know, his finger reaching up to scratch his cheek. I had half a mind to follow his gaze, to see if maybe my maidservant was back, but before I could, he caught my eyes, and I averted my gaze on instinct once again. His following chuckle was not something I’d expected to hear. It was light and breathy and…free somehow, like the way the winds on the mountain peaks felt free. Cool and comforting. It pulled me in. Propriety be damned. I looked at him and found him smiling—not the ear to ear grin he’d shown me before, but a small smile, restrained yet gentle, and it made my own lips waver.

“I’m sorry if I surprised you,” he said. “I saw Lady Ada step out of your room, and I wanted to see how you were holding.”

So that was her name. I hadn’t asked.

I cleared my throat. “Lady Ada said she would fetch me something from the kitchens.”

“Are you hungry? I can bring you to the kitchens if you like.”

“Is…is that all right?”

“The Cook wouldn’t mind,” he said, but he seemed to remember something, because then he added, “My mother probably would, though. Decorum and such.”

“Are princes not allowed in the kitchens?” I asked, because back home, they never minded my presence. I even sometimes helped the kitchen hands.

“It’s more about the proper way of things, I would say,” Clive said.

He sighed, then looked around the hall again. He never crossed the threshold. Another proper way of things, probably. This might have been a guest room before, but it’d be my chambers from now on. This would be the place I called home. My heart lay heavy at the thought. Then Clive spoke again:

“Would you like to see more of the castle? Lady Ada wouldn’t be for a while. I’ll show you the garden or the library or maybe if Joshua manages to escape Mother’s grasp, we can meet him, too. Though, maybe we could make a quick visit to the kitchens so Lady Ada will know where you’ve gone to lest she panics when she finds the room devoid of its resident. As long as Mother doesn’t know, I think it’ll be alright.”

“What if she finds out?”

“Then I’ll say it was all my idea.”

“My lord—” I began in protest, but he shook his head.

“Please, just Clive.”

“Then—Clive—” The name rolled easy on my tongue. Clive’s face brightened at the sound. I resisted the urge to look away. Looking at his face had been making my stomach knot in odd ways. “I will not have you take the blame for something I did.”

“It won’t be something you did but something I prompted you to do.” He then held out a hand, and with a little smirk to his smile, said, “Well, my lady?”

A part of me would rather stay and wait for Lady Ada carrying a steamed bun or whatever it was these Southerners serve for supper. Yet being alone in the room, with the pressing walls and distant shouts and hollers drifting in through the window would only emphasize my solitude. Mother's pendant lay heavy over my chest. Home would always follow me, Mother had said. Rosalith would be my home now.

I dispelled all unwelcome thoughts with a shake of my head and took Clive’s outstretched hand. “Alright, then,” I said, and attempted a smile.

~ END ~

#final fantasy xvi #ffxvi #cliji #jill warrick #clive rosfield #final fantasy 16 #ff16 #fanfiction #ff fanfic #ff16 fanfic

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mothonice0 · 10 months

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I have way too many TereDion, Jotua, BeneCid and Warfield fic brainrots AU eating at me right now, so salty I can’t write them all 😭 😭

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luneariaa · 10 months

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☀︎ 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 | 𝐣𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐚 𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐝

❥︎ - ; ꜰᴇᴍ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

❥︎ - 𝐭𝐰 : ɴᴏɴᴇ ᴀꜱ ᴍᴜᴄʜ! ɴᴏᴛ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴘʀᴏᴏꜰʀᴇᴀᴅ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ; ᴇɴᴅɪɴɢ ꜱᴏʀᴛᴀ ꜱᴇᴍɪ-ʀᴜꜱʜᴇᴅ.

❥︎ - 𝐚/𝐧 : ɪᴛ'ꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ʀᴀɪɴɪɴɢ ʜᴇʀᴇ qᴜɪᴛᴇ ᴀ ʟᴏᴛ ʟᴀᴛᴇʟʏ ꜱᴏ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴛʀʏ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ʜɪᴍ ᴏᴜᴛ! ᴍɪɢʜᴛ ʙᴇ ᴏᴏᴄ, ʙᴜᴛ ʜᴇ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴀᴅᴏʀᴇꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ,, („• ᴗ •„) 🧡🧡

☾︎ - 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.

-✰-

The past few days have been filled with countless raindrops from above, making the sensation a lot colder-- several people even wishing for it to stop at some points. The rather thick blanket is being clutched tightly by her as she tries her best to keep herself warm within the confines of the current hideout she was in.

It was so cold that she couldn't bring herself to sleep just yet. Instead, her eyes stared out at the slightly open window and onto the view of the rain; her expression is one filled with serenity and wonder at the very moment.

The sound of the door being opened can be heard just from a distance, though she remained preoccupied with her own thoughts and the rain itself.

With several quiet yet careful footsteps, the charming blonde-haired male approaches the young lady; kneeling beside her after.

"Are you alright, my dear?" Joshua begins to ask upon noticing her focus is solely towards the rain outside, which resulted in her being startled slightly once she heard someone speak to her.

"You scared me!" She places her hand over her heart as she instantly shifts her gaze from the rain and towards him. "-- and I didn't notice you entering, sorry!" The lady begins to slowly regain her composure as Joshua merely chuckles at her reaction.

"My apologies, I didn't mean to scare you." He apologizes, wrapping his arms around her form tenderly-- pulling her into an embrace. "The rain has been going on all day today."

She nods in agreement, leaning onto his touch and to feel the natural warmth radiating from his form alone. "Truly, it's been quite cold. I suppose the weather has been gloomy these past few days." She jokes lightly, which earned a soft amused grin from Joshua; his hand found its way to caress her soft hair.

"Is there anything you need, perhaps?" He questions while placing a small kiss upon her forehead, which caused her to giggle happily and shook her head.

"Mm no, really!" She answered simply, resting her face on the crook of his neck comfortably as he started the fire nearby; but not too near, using his magic. Their surroundings feel a bit less cold by now.

"You're so warm.. I could stay like this forever."

The blonde-haired male simply smiled sweetly at her words, placing his hand tenderly onto her cheek, wiping a bit of visible dirt off. The young lady's face reddened a little upon his actions, feeling affection and warmth radiating off from him.

"You deserve a better life than this." Joshua begins to say, gazing into her eyes with a warm expression-- beautiful blue eyes consist of a lot of untold emotions. "You deserve to sleep on a more comfortable bed, and even have the finest foods for your daily fill."

She received another kiss atop of her head; snuggling against him even more.

"But I don't wish to experience it alone myself, Joshua.." The lady spoke in an almost quiet manner, soft even, as if she's taking care and cautious with her own words. "I wanted to experience it with you. Someday, we will get what we've wished for; I'm sure of it."

Joshua feels so happy upon hearing the words escaping from her lips at this moment between them. His heart feels light, as if all of his burdened thoughts have washed away almost instantly.

"Of course, I wished for the same thing as well, actually." He touches her face gently, affectionately. "I will fight for you, until I feel as if the sun has shine down upon us again."

"Until there's no more reason to hide; no need to endure long cold nights, and even pain. You deserve none of those, truly."

Perhaps his words have hit a little too hard upon her heart, because she could feel her own eyes getting teary from his statement. It didn't go unnoticed, of course, as he tried to brush away the tears that managed to escape her eyes with such tenderness.

"You're too sweet for me, Joshua.. But in truth, I was quite scared of our unforeseeable future." Her admission made him fall into realization upon her true emotions right at this moment. But nonetheless, he tries his best to appear calm and composed; trying to reassure her without any hint of hesitation.

"And it's completely alright if you feel scared. We've been through a lot lately, but I'll be right here. I'm never going to leave you."

His words are sincere and truthful. "I believe in you-- we will make it through this."

Joshua's expression changes yet again into one of pure concern as she stayed silent after he spoke. But his emotions just escalate further once he notices how her eyes are glistening with some hint of tears present within them even more; thus pulling her closer, pressing his lips against her forehead.

"Oh, my dear (Y/N).. Don't you worry." He exhales out his breath almost quietly. "Everything's going to be alright."

Though not giving any sort of response still, the lady nodded in understanding while sniffling slightly-- leaning onto him for more needed comfort. He held onto her hands, warming them up with his own.

"Do me a favor, please-- can you look at me?"

Not once he was angered by her actions, but rather filled with genuine concern and complete devotion that he held towards her alone.

So she obeyed his gentle commands, lifting her head and gaze into his deep blue eyes. He begins to take this opportunity to put the gorgeously designed flower crown atop of her head gently-- one that he has created using his magic before then.

Perhaps, it is to show as a small gesture of reassurance and gratitude towards her; that he truly cared for her wellbeing, or just wanted to give her some sort of gift for now.

Joshua truly looked so proud and satisfied with his little gift, looking down and into her eyes with a delightful grin. "Now, look at you! You look so adorable like this."

All the while, her eyes aren't leaving his own even for a second, as if she's merely admiring with whatever he's been doing.

His grin truly looks all too adorable to her; even more so, pleased with his own creation. The lady then grabs ahold of the flower crown from her head, releasing a giggle upon his sweet actions.

"This is very beautiful, indeed!" She exclaims joyfully, her smile mirroring his own. "But-" She then places the flower crown on top of his head instead.

"-- look at you, gosh! The flower crown suits you more!" She teases while laughing, but Joshua pays no mind as much to her own actions; simply finding her even more endearing and feeling as though nothing else matters at this moment.

Just the two of them alone.

A thought even crosses his mind-- perhaps, she could be a fallen angel being sent down to him from the heavens above? By the stars, Joshua finds himself hardly able to avert his gaze away from the mere sight of her.

And so, without thinking, he pulls her closer once more, causing a surprised gasp to escape from her lips as he puts the flower crown back atop of her head gently with a soft look. The lady could sense the heat beginning to rise upon her face when she felt his arm around her waist-- the other hand made its way to cup her cheek.

The rain outside begins to show signs of stopping, but neither of them paid much attention to it.

"May I kiss you?" The sudden request caught her off guard, stumbling upon her own words as she became very flustered.

"Y-You may.."

Once he receives the answer that he had been secretly seeking for, Joshua tenderly captures her lips with his own. Their lips molded against each other so perfectly; so fitting. She moves her arms around his neck as she finds herself losing into the kiss, while his arms are encircled around her waist at this moment.

The kiss overall feels quite chaste; no other unwanted desire can be felt within it. It's simply a pure, affectionate reminder that the two love each other very, very much so. And he had to start it first.

They slowly parted from each other a few seconds later; their expressions appeared to be bashful, eyes not leaving one another. The two took their precious time to admire every single detail off from each other's face up that close.

"I love you, (Y/N). After all of this is over..." Joshua begins to say, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear gently.

"Let's build our own life, shall we? A safe, comforting place just for the two of us. I'll keep you safe no matter what, always remember that." He vows, before resting his forehead against hers.

"But of course; we need to find my brother first. I'm sure you're aware that you'll be accompanying me in doing so."

"For sure."

His darling merely nods, clearly agreeing as the two shared a laugh towards each other, trying to lighten up the mood even further.

"Thank you, Joshua, for everything.." She couldn't contain herself from smiling contentedly at his promise, closing her eyes momentarily, as if wanting to relish within the moment as she speaks.

"I shall never leave your side as well. I'd be very glad and love to build a life together with you.. Honestly, it's a dream of mine, so I'm glad that it was with you."

She holds onto him as close as she could, to which he returns her tender actions with a relaxed smile plastered on his face.

"And I love you too, Joshua. Always."

𝐞𝐧𝐝.

-✰-

#ffxvi #final fantasy xvi #ff16 #final fantasy 16 #joshua rosfield #joshua rosfield x reader #joshua rosfield x you #fanfic #oneshot #aria's post 𖥔 ݁ ˖

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