walk free

"R-Right. Yeah..."

He still doesn't want to let go, even less when Leon leans in for one more kiss that leaves him breathless before pulling away. Sasha has to actively fight the urge to hold on, but instead he runs a hand over his face to collect himself. He takes a deep breath to calm his mind and his heart, watching as Leon deals with the dinner still in progress, turning off the stove while Sasha follows every movement with his eyes and has to actively try to not reach for him again.

This is not what he expected when they agreed to this trip. This is not something he expected to ever feel again after he lost everything, and now that they've crossed the line in the sand there is no more turning back. But rather than be cautious and wary of what may lie ahead, Sasha feels ready to let himself fall into it, to just let himself feel the novelty of everything Leon brought into his life.

In the end, he does have to physically remove himself from the situation and the kitchen to not give in to the urge to just throw caution to the wind and ignore the twinge of pain in his back to push Leon up against the counter or pull him back down into another kiss. His mind remains a disorienting swirl of thoughts as he makes his way to the couch, doubts and hesitation creeping back in while he isn't preoccupied by this overwhelming need to touch Leon again.

He forces himself to think about what to say to him while he waits, keeps his hands busy by focusing his attention on hoisting himself out of the wheelchair and onto the worn upholstery. He finds himself thinking that he should have tried to put this into words first rather than letting his instincts take over, no matter that Leon met him in kind. He takes a deeper breath as most recent memory replays the feel and taste of Leon's body against his own, closing his eyes as he recalls the sounds Leon made, the uneven hitch of his breathing.

Sasha feels himself throbbing in his pants and tries hard to wrestle his thoughts away from the kiss and Leon's promise of more. Sasha lets his head drop back against the backrest of the couch and opens his eyes to look up at the ceiling, his eyes unfocused. In truth, he isn't so much concerned with the fact that it happened, but rather with how needy it leaves him now, concerned that this blind want would spell the end for what they've built here.

But then he hears footsteps from the kitchen and sits up a little straighter to be able to look at Leon. They lock eyes and Sasha's mind empties out, the worry replaced by a sense of anticipation as Leon walks closer, his attention entirely in him. It's all Sasha can do to reach for him even before he's fully within range, the need to touch, to hold him, stronger than anything else when faced with the brightness in Leon's eyes and this private little smile Sasha has seen maybe a handful of times by now. Both are slightly obscured by his bangs, maybe because Leon's feeling as unsteady as he is, or maybe because his own attention lays elsewhere entirely. Sasha's fingers twitch with the need to push those strands of hair away to get a full look at the man who's made him feel like himself again for the first time in years.

Is it because, despite the whirlwind that's been their relationship━ from antagonistic, to tolerating each other, to this budding friendship, to more━ he's somehow found himself utterly infatuated by Sasha's stubborn resilience, those flashes of sweet charm, warmth and kindness beneath the stoic, angry veneer coming through more and more often? Because he recognizes himself in Sasha's anger and tenacity? Or is it because━

He pushes the thought away before it can fully take root, not wanting that damn parasite to take over any other part of his life, ruin more than it already has. With Leon's track record, it wouldn't take the Plaga to ruin this anyway. He's well aware how foolish he's being even indulging this, not that there'd been any hair on his head even thinking of pushing Sasha away when he'd surged up to kiss him. He should stop it now, knowing there's no future in it. Knowing it would potentially only mess up what could be a good, solid friendship and fuck knows Leon's lacking in that department as it is.

But as he finally sorts out the stove and their dinner, joining Sasha in the living room, watching the way Sasha's gaze darkens with hunger, the way the other man immediately reaches for him, his own arousal sharpening to a throb as he catches sight of the way Sasha's erection is tenting his pants, wet spot already forming at the front jesus fucking christ, Leon finds he's too weak to resist.

He wants this. Selfishly and hopelessly. Wants the way Sasha is making him feel. Wants to make Sasha feel the same. Wants to put his mouth on him and coax the most exquisite sound from those kiss-swollen lips, until all Sasha feels is pleasure rather than pain. Joy rather than shame.

He goes easily, his knees on either side of Sasha's hips as he settles on his haunches, careful not to put his full weight on Sasha's legs. Tipping his chin back with the curl of his fingers, Leon doesn't hesitate capturing those lips in another kiss, letting his tongue sink into the welcome heat of his mouth to stroke against Sasha's own. His fingers card through Sasha's hair, blunt nails dragging over his scalp and down the back of his neck. And with his other hand he repeats the same motion from hours ago, gently cupping Sasha through the fabric of his pants, teasingly pressing down on the wet spot with the palm of his hand.

Still, Sasha hisses when Leon's thigh presses between his own legs, the sudden wave of arousal catching him off guard, weakening him in the knees. He breaks the kiss, leans back far enough to be able to look Leon in the eyes again, hoping for a moment of clarity, meaning to seek out the conversation he so rudely skipped past after all, only to be taken aback by the darkness of Leon's gaze, the flush of his cheeks, the redness of his lips.

It's all Sasha can do to lean back in then, fighting his unsteady legs and the tension in his back. The muscles in his thighs and calves begin to tremble halfway into this kiss, but there is little else he wants to do right now other than curl his fingers tightly into Leon's soft hair and kiss him senseless.

At last, after another deep kiss that has his head spin, Sasha lets the kiss temper out, deliberately slowing it back down until he can press their foreheads together and let them both catch their breaths once more. He can't help but bring a hand back to his face to cup Leon's cheek, running his thumb along his jawline and the faint stubble on his face. It strikes him how easy this feels, how right.

It doesn't change the fact that he's still trembling, although only in part because his legs are too weak to keep him upright. Leon is carrying no small amount of his weight still, and the last thing Sasha wants to do is pull away while being held close like this, but he knows that he can't maintain this without likely suffering consequences later on.

Sasha feels his legs threatening to give in. He closes his eyes to concentrate on keeping himself standing. "I need—" He's equally surprised and not at all by how rough his voice sounds, the words barely above a whisper and full of regret, but also still breathless from the kiss. "—I need to sit down." He finally manages, a bit of pain nagging at the base of his spine. He anticipates the way Leon tenses up then, knows his gaze is sharpening before he even opens his eyes again to look at him.

His heart is still going a mile per minute when Leon helps him ease himself back into the chair. A sigh of relief escapes him unbidden when it takes the strain off his back, but it also makes him painfully aware of the hardness between his legs. He looks up at Leon and wonders if his own expression is equally open, equally helpless.

Jesus fucking Christ his voice, though. If nothing else, Leon can be proud of having caused him to sound like that: rough and completely breathless, barely above a hoarse whisper. Never mind the dark, heavy-lidded weight of his gaze, the hectic flush covering his cheeks and nose, those kiss-bitten lips, the hot line of his arousal against the thick of Leon's thigh; the whole picture making Leon want to pick Sasha up, carry him back to the bedroom━ their bedroom now if he's got any say in it━ so he can finally touch Sasha the way he's been craving since this morning and see just how far he can make that flush go, hear just what other noises he can wrench from those lips.

Unfortunately, that brief moment of space have made him conscious enough of his immediate surroundings that he catches the distinct smell of something burning, reminding him of the fact that they're still in the kitchen and oh yeah, Sasha was actually busy making them dinner before they started making out against the fridge.

Sasha's hand catching his own before he can pull away once Sasha's back in his chair has Leon's breath hitch, even that simple touch causing a frisson down his back. Just like Sasha his own arousal is more than evident, tenting the front of his pants, and it's all he can do not to drop to his knees right then and there to continue what they started in the face of that earnest little smile, the spark of doubt in those amber hues that Leon might actually want to stop like that's not the most ludicrous idea ever.

— @petrokhelidon .

❛ it's hard to see who i am when i am lost in what's expected of me. ❜

expectations are a heavy cross to bear.

clive knows it firsthand. his life has been nothing but that, nothing but people wanting him to be so much more than he knows he ultimately is. it's obvious in the tense line of jill's shoulders and her ever-present mask of composure that she, too, struggles under the weight of it.

traveling with him and supporting his endeavors surely doesn't make it any easier. she's under the same kind of scrutiny now, the same eyes that follow clive at every step haunt her, too, hoping her involvement with the cause will bring the change the people are so desperately clamoring for.

clive sighs. would that he knew what to say to alleviate this pressure. words are not his strong suit, and even if they were, nothing could ever amount to enough to lessen jill's struggle. he knows it so intimately, after all. feels it every waking moment, like lead in the very pit of his stomach.

"if it helps any," he begins, "i don't expect anything of you. i know who you are, jill. maybe you can trust in that in the meantime."

it's a hollow offer at best. so much has changed, and the jill at his side now is no longer the jill he knew then. not fully. she can't be, after everything. but there are glimpses of that girl, in the sparkle of her eyes and the curve of her smile, that transport clive back into their youth. jill is jill. no matter what.

maybe making sure she knows it's what he thinks helps a little, at least.

Clive would never judge her for her sins; even those she still does not dare utter in his presence. She can but hope that he feels the same in her presence; wishing nothing more but to provide the same comfort and reassurance to him.

Her lips curl up to a smile that, though small and somewhat wry, conveys nothing but gratitude. " I know, Clive. Thank you. " Her hands rest lightly on the balcony they're stood on, looking out over the hustle and bustle of the Hideaway below and she lets out a deep breath. " You and Joshua are the only ones that still make me feel like me. Ever since we came back in each other's lives, it's like a stone has lifted off my chest and I can breathe easy once more knowing you're at my side. For what it's worth, I do not regret any of the choices I've made since that day, " Because unlike her jailors before, the paths she's walked since have been entirely her own.

Byron Rosfield and Eugen Havel have an interesting background together. Byron is 56 years old, Havel is 57. The book mentions:

-They have been battle buddies for decades

-Havel and Byron are often bickering, but they trust each other and always have each other's backs

-Year 850 (Byron Age 28, Havel Age 29) Byron meets Havel for the first time at a conference when Elwin and Clive went to survey the mothercrystal at Drake's Fang. The two immediately got into an argument.

-Year 857 (Byron Age 35, Havel Age 36) Worked together to fight for the liberation of Kanver, became battle buddies

-Year 878 (Byron Age 56, Havel Age 57) Fought together again at Randellah

considering he seems to never have been married or boasts no children, i will go ahead and say no. at least never one that was long lasting anyway. he's probably entertained some relationships largely to keep up appearances while he was still living in rosaria with his family, but the moment he moved to port isolde to become warden there and was given some modicum of freedom from expectations as long as he fulfilled his duties as that warden, he's remained as a bachelor. that isn't to say there never was any interest from other parties, but byron was happy enough spending his money on his nephews and helping out the people of kanver.

dion's birth-year is 846 instead of 850, making him 32 post-timeskip rather than 28. to me it just makes more sense to have him more clive's age.

regarding the circumstance of his birth, i'll still go with the headcanon that, while it is true dion is born to a courtesan, it was more of an accident than a calculated move on sylvestre's part. as bahamut awakens when he's only one year old, it wouldn't seem a stretch to me that sylvestre would buy him off that courtesan to then leverage his son's dominant status to ultimately be crowned emperor. unlike what the ultimania says, however, sylvestre does care for dion as a son ( or at least comes to care for him, even if he doesn't at the start ) because i simply cannot vibe with dion having such loyalty to an empire and such deep love for a guy when he's not been shown at least an ounce of care from sylvestre in return ( unless he's just rly good at faking it or what??? ). obviously this can be discussed with sylv rp'ers.

year 854; dion and terence become childhood friends when terence starts attending monastery school with him. as @tsckcyomi confirmed she was making terence one year younger, that would make dion 8, already having attended one year and terence 7.

year 862; terence becomes his squire when dion is around 16 and terence 15, i'm shifting the time here a little bit. this also means dion joins the dragoons, stops his education with hapocrates and gives up his right to the crown when he is 19 in year 865, rather than 15.

year 868; their relationship then only starts when they are 21 and 22 respectively. i do like terence confessing his feelings after dion gets gravely injured though bc it speaks to my hurt/comfort loving soul, so i am keeping that

year 870; dion founds the holy order of the knights dragoon at age 24, about 8 years before the game's end and 10 years after the night of the flames. at that time he already held great respect from many of the men within the dragoon order and had already established himself as both a commander and soldier, even beyond his might as bahamut ( though his status as a dominant definitely helped )