fanfic, voyager, ffvii, ffvii, ffx
looks like i found a use for this journal already, even though i said i wouldn't post here. i'll post fic here!
voyager, seven of nine/kathryn janeway.
"that's where the softness shows."
g, no warnings.
seven has learnt to be soft. it takes learning, but it can be learnt, and both facts shock the small frightened child who waits inside. janeway is the perfect person to learn from - soft and hard and rigid and gentle by turns. seven has learnt to be gentle from-for-with her. she has learnt to trace the curve of a cheekbone with her fingers. she's learnt to brush back kathryn's hair with a touch that is not utilitarian but just for the sake of touching. touching, touching, touching. that's where the softness shows, now and then.
final fantasy vii, cloud strife/tifa lockhart.
"they have to have their illusions."
nc17, crossdressing, sex. written for 50_smutlets, theme "in drag".
cloud has learned to wear dresses with some degree of dignity. it amuses tifa now to think of how tentative he was, how he wouldn't do it for aeris. he was just hiding his secret longing for it and now tifa has him in silk and satin whenever she wants. whenever she asks. it brings out the insecurities - even more than usual, anyway. it reminds him he is not, never was, a soldier, not really. it reminds him that he doesn't have to be that way with her.
she smoothes her hand over his side, carefully, imagining a bigger curve to the hip under her hand. he's watching her; she doesn't look up. lets him watch her as she looks him over, touches the curves, real and counterfeit.
strip, she tells him, a hint of command in her voice for the hint of the soldier in the way he stands there. she hears him clear his throat, masculine, and then catches his hesitation; feminine. he pulls the dress off then and she watches. she takes it from him and puts it away and then moves over to him. kisses him, tasting lipstick, and presses against him.
she closes her hand around his wrist and guides it where she wants it to go, his fingers thicker than a woman's. she doesn't let that ruin the fantasy as his fingers slide up inside her. his breath catches and he whimpers, feminine, eager. she pushes closer to him. moans coaxingly, her hips tilting.
yeah, that's right, tifa whispers. cloud's breath catches again and his fingers push deeper, rougher. yeah.
she reaches behind him to undo the bra, carefully sliding away the illusion. he whimpers again.
her fingers curl around his cock carefully, holding. squeezing. and then stroking as his fingers push deeper into her, making her draw in a deep breath and fight for composure. it's ridiculously easy to please him, to make him moan. she does it with a feeling that she's being generous in diverting her attention from the feeling of his fingers filling a measure of the emptiness.
she doesn't always want him like this. most of the time she doesn't have the time to waste on illusions and counterfeits. but now - this is something for her, as the smile is for him. they have to have their illusions.
final fantasy viii, seifer almasy.
""soon they'll dig a hole for him."
pg13, disturbing. written for fated_children, themes "digging", "nature", "young".
he can almost feel the things crawling on him. eating him inside out like the worm of guilt in his gut. digging himself into a hole, down, down, down so deep. maybe it won't be worms. maybe they won't want to eat the ex-knight, the failure, the dreamer. maybe it'll be something worse. something - something terrifying. something straight from the nightmares he had as a kid, hunched in his bed too scared and too full of dreams.
he can feel the things coming for him already. crawling on his skin. crawling in his gut. he shudders and wraps the covers more securely around him (like a shroud, and he shakes harder) and tries to be that child. hunched up to deny the past and the future and the fairy tales. the bogeymen under the bed.
soon they'll dig a hole for him.
final fantasy x, tidus/yuna.
"she will meet him today."
g, no warnings. written for pyre_flies, themes "first", "dreamy", "praying".
she will meet him today. she knows it, even as she kneels in the chamber of the fayth and feels all the things she should feel. reverence. obedience. awe. she courts the fayth for power and knows she will meet him today, for the first time, though she's been dreaming of him since she was a tiny girl and she sat on her father's knee. the details became fuzzier over time, not clearer, but she still knows. she will meet him today.
a voice of caution within her tells her to beware. that not all is as it seems. but she has been dreaming of him for so long that when she sees him she thinks she will cry. or laugh. or simply stare and take in the details that her dreams have obscured from her lately.
beware, the fayth say.
i know, she answers, unknowing.
she will meet him today.
voyager, seven of nine/kathryn janeway.
"that's where the softness shows."
g, no warnings.
seven has learnt to be soft. it takes learning, but it can be learnt, and both facts shock the small frightened child who waits inside. janeway is the perfect person to learn from - soft and hard and rigid and gentle by turns. seven has learnt to be gentle from-for-with her. she has learnt to trace the curve of a cheekbone with her fingers. she's learnt to brush back kathryn's hair with a touch that is not utilitarian but just for the sake of touching. touching, touching, touching. that's where the softness shows, now and then.
final fantasy vii, cloud strife/tifa lockhart.
"they have to have their illusions."
nc17, crossdressing, sex. written for 50_smutlets, theme "in drag".
cloud has learned to wear dresses with some degree of dignity. it amuses tifa now to think of how tentative he was, how he wouldn't do it for aeris. he was just hiding his secret longing for it and now tifa has him in silk and satin whenever she wants. whenever she asks. it brings out the insecurities - even more than usual, anyway. it reminds him he is not, never was, a soldier, not really. it reminds him that he doesn't have to be that way with her.
she smoothes her hand over his side, carefully, imagining a bigger curve to the hip under her hand. he's watching her; she doesn't look up. lets him watch her as she looks him over, touches the curves, real and counterfeit.
strip, she tells him, a hint of command in her voice for the hint of the soldier in the way he stands there. she hears him clear his throat, masculine, and then catches his hesitation; feminine. he pulls the dress off then and she watches. she takes it from him and puts it away and then moves over to him. kisses him, tasting lipstick, and presses against him.
she closes her hand around his wrist and guides it where she wants it to go, his fingers thicker than a woman's. she doesn't let that ruin the fantasy as his fingers slide up inside her. his breath catches and he whimpers, feminine, eager. she pushes closer to him. moans coaxingly, her hips tilting.
yeah, that's right, tifa whispers. cloud's breath catches again and his fingers push deeper, rougher. yeah.
she reaches behind him to undo the bra, carefully sliding away the illusion. he whimpers again.
her fingers curl around his cock carefully, holding. squeezing. and then stroking as his fingers push deeper into her, making her draw in a deep breath and fight for composure. it's ridiculously easy to please him, to make him moan. she does it with a feeling that she's being generous in diverting her attention from the feeling of his fingers filling a measure of the emptiness.
she doesn't always want him like this. most of the time she doesn't have the time to waste on illusions and counterfeits. but now - this is something for her, as the smile is for him. they have to have their illusions.
final fantasy viii, seifer almasy.
""soon they'll dig a hole for him."
pg13, disturbing. written for fated_children, themes "digging", "nature", "young".
he can almost feel the things crawling on him. eating him inside out like the worm of guilt in his gut. digging himself into a hole, down, down, down so deep. maybe it won't be worms. maybe they won't want to eat the ex-knight, the failure, the dreamer. maybe it'll be something worse. something - something terrifying. something straight from the nightmares he had as a kid, hunched in his bed too scared and too full of dreams.
he can feel the things coming for him already. crawling on his skin. crawling in his gut. he shudders and wraps the covers more securely around him (like a shroud, and he shakes harder) and tries to be that child. hunched up to deny the past and the future and the fairy tales. the bogeymen under the bed.
soon they'll dig a hole for him.
final fantasy x, tidus/yuna.
"she will meet him today."
g, no warnings. written for pyre_flies, themes "first", "dreamy", "praying".
she will meet him today. she knows it, even as she kneels in the chamber of the fayth and feels all the things she should feel. reverence. obedience. awe. she courts the fayth for power and knows she will meet him today, for the first time, though she's been dreaming of him since she was a tiny girl and she sat on her father's knee. the details became fuzzier over time, not clearer, but she still knows. she will meet him today.
a voice of caution within her tells her to beware. that not all is as it seems. but she has been dreaming of him for so long that when she sees him she thinks she will cry. or laugh. or simply stare and take in the details that her dreams have obscured from her lately.
beware, the fayth say.
i know, she answers, unknowing.
she will meet him today.