#callmeteor

a  steady  cast  of  projectile  magic  toward  their  junkyard  foes,   she,   taking  the  outskirts  of  the  battle  plains  whilst  cloud  prioritizes  the  center  stage.   her  metallic  staff  raises  overhead  +  betwixt  interchanging  palms,  each  finishing  twirl  aimed  ‘pon  creeping  monsters  trying  their  luck  at  a  pre-emptive  strike  against  the  former  SOLDIER.  ❛  oh  no,  you  don’t  !  ❜   quips  strew  as  rapidly  as  mana  depletes,  green  irises  continuously  searching  for  whom  to  focus  upon,   unable  to  hone  in  on  a  single  target. 

though  what  takes  the  cetra  entirely  by  surprise  …  were  a  charge  from  a  much  larger  creature  than  she  were  used  to,  spinning  ‘pon  her  heels  as  the  blond  groans  from  the  collision  of  it's  brutality.  knuckles  grow  white  as  his  physique  flies  backward,  torso  colliding  with  the  dirt,  blade  no  longer  attached  to  his  person.   he  were  completely  stunned  —  –  no  …  whatever-it-was  …  had  knocked  him  down  entirely.  ❛  cloud  !  ❜   octave  panicked,   brown  braid  whipping  from  one  collar-blade  to  the  next  as  she  counts  how  many  enclose  around  them.   there  were  no  time  to  breathe  deeply,   no  time  to  frantically  counter  every  blow  to  her  person,   wincing  as  treads  root  within  gaia  to  preform  a   ʳᵃᶦˢᵉ   spell.   ❛  wakey-wakey,  sleepy  head  !  ❜

sprinting  with  all  the  stamina  she  can  muster,   the  top  of  her  footwear  kicks  the  buster  sword  closer  to  his  grasp,  desperately  wanting  to  check  him  once  over  —  –  though  it  would  appear  he'd  have  to  dust  himself  off  independently.  ❛  let's  show  ‘em  who  they’re  messing  with,  cloud  !  ❜   the  time  materia  equipped  within  her  weaponry  glows,  granting  her  partner  the  ability  to  move  hastened,  striking  quicker  than  previous.   so  rarely  does  she  find  herself  side-by-side  in  combat  with  the  blond,  nodding  once  as  she  departs  back  to  the  fringe  of  their  battle  area.  ❛  no  one  messes  with  my  bodyguard  !  ❜ @callmeteor ♥︎

lips  that  greet  hers  are  soft  to  the  touch,   the  kind  that  hesitantly  plead  for  affection  …  lacking  the  words  to  outwardly  ask  for  what  your  soul  yearns  for.   the  gloved  hand  of  the  ex-soldier  meets  her  cheek  as  aerith  leans  further  into  his  endearment,   his  movements  ushering  her  closer  to  experience  his  touch,  encouraging  her  into  his  space,   and  such  an  invitation  would  not  go  un-responded.   the  cetra's  knees  rooted  within  gaia,   detangled  brown  tresses  surpassing  her  shoulders,   digits  curling  within  the  soft  terre  illuminated  by  moonlight.   their  posse  asleep  whilst  they're  supposed  to  be  keeping  watch  for  monsters  that  lurk  throughout  the  night  —  –  though  hours  had  passed,   and  the  only  noise  that  could  be  found  were  their  octaves  whispered  beneath  a  near-black  sky.

the  hold  ‘pon  her  jaw  from  cloud  strife,   breaths  warm  against  her  mouth  as  they  break  for  air,   and  oh,  the  most  sinister  idea  that  comes  to  mind.   grateful  is  she  to  have  materia  equipped  that  could  stop  time  momentarily,   a  tool  that  would  grant  their  privacy  whilst  still  minding  their  surroundings  from  ambushing  fiends.  (and  friends  who  could  be  spared  of  her  midnight  pleasantries  sung  throughout  the  forest.)   ❛  let  me  just  —  –  ❜   the  tip  of  her  nose  pressed  momentarily  against  the  blond's,   patting  the  dirt  in  search  of  her  staff  littered  aside.   her  silhouette  sits  upright  to  use  the  ᵀᴵᴹᴱ  orb's  magical  ailments,   the  world  surrounding  them  entirely  hushed:   not  a  chirp  of  a  cricket,   not  an  overhead  flap  from  travelling  avian,   and  not  a  single  snore  echoed  from  the  gun  armed.   as  some  people  pleaded  for:   it  were  only  them,   time  stood  still.   ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ.

❛  now  then,  ❜   metallic  rod  meeting  gaia  once  more,  the  cetra  leans  inward  to  resume  their  enkindlement,  greens  falling  behind  shut  lids  as  his  lips  meet  hers  with  a  hunger  she's  yet  to  experience.   a  sharp  inhale  of  her  nostrils,  happily  taken  aback  to  his  eagerness  and  aerith's  hands  travel  to  enwrap  behind  his  neck.  a  content  moan  emits  his  throat,   &  she's  hoist  beneath  her  rear  to  settle  within  his  lap,  separating  her  knees  to  straddle  his  either-side.   the  groans  of  the  planet  become  a  noise  she  can  no  longer  hear,   instead,   feeling  as  though  she  were  able  to  connect  telepathically  through  the  mind  of  the  blond.   ❛  …  fuck  —  –  ❜   his  octave  clear  and  bothered,  echoing  throughout  her  ears.   if  this  were  enough  to  cause  a  rise  of  him  …  what  an  evening  he  were  to  enjoy  —  –   the  date  they'd  yet  to  experience. 

hips  leisurely  roll  against  his  attire  throughout  their  entanglement,  the  once  gentlest  lip-lockings  escalating  where  his  tongue  caresses  the  inside  of  her  cheek,   unable  to  help  the  grin  that  grows  against  her  face  as  cloud's  knuckles  grow  white  against  the  rose-hue  of  her  dress.   she  thinks  to  taunt  him,   asking  if  he'd  mind  the  tight  grasp  of  her  dress  as  it  would  cause  wrinkle  to  the  fabric,   but  instead:   aerith assists  in  lifting  the  bunched  material  above  the  elastic  waist  of  her  underwear.   allowing  for  more  skin-to-skin.                 while  it  were  initially  fiends  they  were  to  keep  their  ears  attentive  for   …   they'd  best  keep  their  weapons  nearby  to  cast  another  bout  of   ˢᵗᵒᵖ  should  they  wish  to  keep  uninterrupted.

       eyebrows  drawing  together,  almost  flinching  back  at  his  words.  somehow,  it  angered  her.  nothing  about  what  he  said  was  wrong,  nothing  about  what  he  said  was  meant  to  be  hurtful.  yet,  she  couldn’t  shake  the  feeling  of  being  hurt  by  it  regardless. 

the ravens tell her of his unrest even before she saw him. she had barely just returned from a mission of her own with some of the other sherpherds when ami [ one of the ravens who had stayed at camp rather than accompanying her out ] came swooping down onto her outstretched hand, delivering the news with frantic waves of her wings. the witch had sighed, and immediately made her way to find the swordsman. there were signs that kira has become well accustomed to when cloud was in a foul mood, rather than his usual expression that the untrained eye might have mistaken for a foul mood. it is why she simply stood there for a moment beneath the shade of a tree, eyes narrowed as she stared at him. the uneven and sharp breaths? check. the tension in his jaw? oh, definitely.

a part of her now regrets not dragging him along with her on the mission, because at least then, she would know what was irritating him. [ ... ] because it would most likely be her.

❛ okay, you're stressing out the kids. ❜ the kids in question were none other than her birds. she closed the distance between them, placing herself right in front of him. kira tilted her head to the side, two fingers directing his chin so that he could meet her gaze, before her arms folded across her chest. ❛ look at me. what's going on? are we killing someone, are raising them from the dead? you've got to let me know, darling. you know i hate to see that pretty face frown. ❜ it didn't help that she was smirking at him towards the end.

cloud has blood in his hair. that is what arthur gets stuck on. the smear of red making blonde locks pink, death clinging to pale skin in ugly, stubborn streaks. the gold in the slayer’s eyes gutters. cloud is huffing from the encounter, battle-worn and bright with breath, sword slowly cleaned of its violence and sheathed with little qualm. but arthur only stares at him—sweat-slicked, alive, frighteningly alive—and something in him snaps open at the sight.

he crosses the space in three quick strides.

a gloved hand finds its place in the other’s hair, brushing the blood away with a jittery, urgent care. pale streaks follow the motion of his fingers. arthur looks at them once, then at cloud’s face, and whatever restraint had been holding him by the throat finally gives.

he pulls cloud down to him.

the kiss lands sudden and sure, enough to startle even himself with the force of it. his breath catches against the other’s mouth, a small, helpless sound swallowed between them. he does not let cloud run from him until they are both out of breath and laughing in disbelief.

PROMPTS FROM BEAUTY AND THE BEAST ( Still Accepting! )

@callmeteor asked: "i was trying to be hospitable." / guy who is not hospitable.

There was no stopping the sigh that escaped the confines of the Warrior's chest, the knight taking a moment to close his eyes and collect his thoughts.

He had just finished apologizing on behalf of his comrade after a customer who had hired Cloud was quite displeased at the blonde swordsman's lack of manners, it had gotten to the point where Cloud had ended up calling Light asking for support -- the knight had initially thought it was something to do with the crystals and the like but he was sorely mistaken. When he had arrived, Cloud told him to pretend that he was his 'agent' , as the client wanted to talk to a supposed 'higher up'.

While Cloud's client ironically didn't have the best manners either, the Warrior nonetheless managed to calm them down and had even procured Cloud's promised payment, which the client was originally going to withhold.

Holding the envelope of Cloud's earnings, now the Warrior would be the one to withhold it -- pulling his hand away just some when the swordsman reached for it.

"Cloud, you must understand that we are guest to this plane --" he doesn't mean to lecture, far from it, for he knows his comrades are grown people and are more than capable of minding themselves most of the time.

However, as their leader, he cannot offer them leeway, even for something as trivial as a upset client.

"We must remain diligent and set to be exemplary and courteous to the denizens of this world, even if they do not offer us that same courtesy." while he won't blame any of them for defending themselves, unfortunately, the cultural norms of this world are different from any of theirs, from food and music, all the way to manners -- they must respect it all the same.

He finally hands the envelope to Cloud--

"Do not let this happen again."