⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ #ADUREUS : 𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃 from 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐘 𝐗𝐕𝐈.
Mutuals only. Low activity. Highly selective. Canon compliant with a few liberties.
This is a character/writing exploration blog more than anything. Also, ✖ DO NOT ✖ perceive me if you ship the brothers together. That's not up for discussion or debate. Miss me with that. Mobile rules are below. Final Fantasy XVI is 18+, so this is not a welcome space for minors. On that note, mature content and such will be tagged!
𝐈. This blog is unaffiliated with the FF community. I'm more than happy to develop a verse to make it easier for us to write if you're unfamiliar with XVI or FF in general.
* For OCs/WOLs : Please give me time to read their backstories and such. If I don't follow back, please don't take offense!
𝐈𝐈. Canon muses, Original Characters, duplicates, iconless blogs, and multi-muses are welcome. This blog is crossover friendly. If I'm unfamiliar with the series, I'm more than happy to learn about your muse! I am selective on who I follow back, though. Because I work full-time and have other obligations, I won't spend all my time here. Please don't be offended if I don't follow back! You're still welcome to send memes and such. Just don't be an ass.
𝐈𝐈𝐈. I'm chill. Communication is great and we're all grown here. So, unless someone's a legitimate problem, keep drama, blog policing, pettiness, and such elsewhere. If you're an avid vague blogger and are more pressed about a stranger's business rather than your own, I likely won't follow. It immediately sours my impression of you. If you're homophobic, racist, sexist etc. etc. the block button's comin' in hot. I really DO NOT have the tolerance for it. My life doesn't revolve around this site, so if you've got beef with someone I really don't care to hear about it.
𝐈𝐕. This blog isn't open to ships. Sorry! @nievea is my Clive's main Jill Warrick and any/all references to her in threads ( unless stated otherwise ) will be referring to her. On the off chance I write with a duplicate, assume their relationship is purely platonic. Aside from Jill, I don't think I'll really have any mains or exclusives because my activity is sporadic and I'd hate for people to wait eons for replies if I end up busy. That might change, though!
𝐕. I'm not a big fan of one-liners. I prefer longer threads but I absolutely don't expect you to match my length! I adore plotting but impromptu threads are alright, too. If we're mutuals you always have permission to throw anything into my inbox.
𝐕𝐈. Graphics are made by me unless otherwise stated. Art by Erry, used with written permission. Template by grandsilia! This is especially aimed at personal blogs, but don't take anything from this blog unless it's intended for you or intended to be reblogged.
Yet another day stuck in meeting after meeting. In and of itself, this was not an issue, nor was it anything new -- no, it was to be expected in his position. What exhausted him was the fact that every one of them seemed to devolve into some argument or another. Very few of the other High House representatives agreed with any of his policies; even Anabella opposed his pushes to offer more aid to their neighboring territory. It wasn't that Elwin didn't see the logic of their arguments against it -- it was that he couldn't, in good conscience, turn his back on others in need, even in the name of self-preservation. Sacrificing some of their comforts for the sake of a better future for everyone, in Rosaria and beyond, was well worth the cost, wasn't it?
As one might expect, this stance made him quite unpopular at court. But he, stubbornly, refused to give up. Just as the others would not budge in their protests, the Archduke would stand firm with his own convictions.
So why, then, had Elwin retreated to a quieter corridor of the palace in order to be alone and collect his thoughts? And why was one leather-clad fist slammed against the polished stone exterior, while lips were pulled back in a frustrated grimace of sorts? Well before the time came for him to take the throne, his parents had warned him of the hardships he would be presented with in terms of making decisions. They had been upfront that each one, no matter how great or small, would have lasting repercussions, and that some choices would have no easy solution.
No amount of tutelage or counsel from those older and far more experienced than he could have ever truly prepared him for the reality of it all. That was, above all else, what frustrated him the most -- that despite his position of power, he was still so powerless. But all he could do was press on, as always.
Approaching footsteps saw Elwin's hand withdraw from its lingering position. The seemingly ever-present furrow of his brow deepened all the more, as it so oft did. He took a brief moment to smooth out and brush off the front of his surcoat, then his arm dropped to his side, and he released a faint, inaudible sigh.
"If you are here to inform me that another meeting has been called by the council, pray tell them that I will not be joining them," he called out to his newfound company without looking up, under the assumption that it was a servant come to fetch him for something or other.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀❛ Then you’ll be pleased to know I bear no such news, Father. ❜
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝐀𝐧 𝐨𝐝𝐝 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬 ⸻ 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞. It is guidance he seeks of his Grace ; stoicism finds no weakening in its yield upon features and persists. It's a remnant of the anxieties plaguing him for indulging that shred of boyhood, an unfortunate degradation to his respect in the eyes of men and his mother. Despite such, he allows a modicum of concern to bleed just so, reminding of the humanity of emotions negative and positive. He does not hold his father to unattainable standards ; rather, the Archduke is a man like any other. So natural does a son revere his sire, revere his attachment to his worldliness and morals, a man ever dynamic and veritable. Charm colours his manner. Flaw flows so free. He is responsible for both. It is what the boy idolizes most, authenticity next, just short of courage. A shame, truly, that he cannot emulate that which he admires ⸻ reproach lies at the ready from the voices of superiors and maternal figures alike. Such carelessness begets shame.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀❛ Is something bothering you ? Earlier, you took your frustrations out on the wall. I assume your negotiations ended less than favourably ? ❜
It is not the norm, though it's a sight which has grown ever frequent. Many find wisdom born of Rosarian tongues to be too foolish, too outlandish, and at times even blasphemy in the eyes of clashing nations. Even among their own countrymen do criticisms circulate far more venomous than casual critique, fit to tear such utopian nonsense before it spread. As Clive envisions what challenge toils within his father's head and heart, lips purse ever slight the creep of shadow framing as if it finds the young Shield coy, lining the tight, concerned dip at mouth's bow. Now, a frown of his own, while gentle, grows as if fatherly frustrations are vicarious. He can surmise, he can make an educated guess. Seldom do these suspicions overshoot.
A palm is outstretched, his posture receptive, allowing for openness.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀❛ Lord Murdoch has rescheduled our drills. I have time to hear your concerns, if you’ll have me. ❜
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Any time with his father is cherished, after all.
"You and Jill. Both of you have been a blessing to our cause, I don't want you to ever forget that." ( from cid. couldn't find a prompt but have this, cid already throwing up death red flags with this fiughfj ) ╱ @heroesvow
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝐖𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐬𝐨 ⸻ 𝐧𝐨, 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐚 𝐧𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥 𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐥-𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫. Reignited, long forgotten, a visitation from youth he'd long since consigned to history. He cannot name it, cannot embrace it. His attempt at acceptance seems amateur, what with the coy expression of his mouth, downward and subtle at the cusp, almost boyish. Gratitude is what he eventually settles on, though his mien is bemused and worrisome within and without. Any serious tone from Cid oft found itself coloured with jocular notes or was borne upon the wisps of cigarette smoke, seldom filtered betwixt lips chapped by test and time. Clive purses his own, mulls in this silence, understands the depth of the admission but cannot quite yield a viable response in turn. It's a hum instead, a cant of the head, downcast as if anchored to the implications of what has been shared. Alternative meanings are considered ; Cid has always been a man of many muses and double entendres.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀❛ How can I forget ? I'm reminded every time I see your mug. ❜
A jest, of course ⸻ more appropriate for his company and to mollify the tone. Jill would surely weave a more suitable response, eloquent and intentional with each chosen word. She is thoughtful as always, expressing heartfelt appreciation to those who took a chance on them both, instilling the return of hope into hearts so downtrodden and once broken.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀❛ Many people look up to you and seek your guidance, Cid. I'm among their ilk. I don't want you to ever forget that. ❜
