Spring Kinkfest

The minute details (cogs! Cid's clothing! Venat's "qua?" Cid's glasses) leave me utterly bouncing with bounciness.

~~And Balthier's dad has a nice cock.~~

Balthier: I hate you. Hate.
Me: I thought you'd be pleased! Family resemblance and all!
Balthier: *crawls under rock until end of time*

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I had a lot of fun with the background and details -- it was a good chance to play with stuff of course, if I had been clever, I would have started before the day it was due, but!

~~I used this icon specifically to taunt balthier~~

Balthier can't get it up for days, haunted by the similarities between his and his father's cock.

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Balthier: Days? How about ever again?
Basch: *takes off shirt*
Balthier: *boing!* Okay. But that was a really awful hour and a half of impotence. You're all terrible people.

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It's hard to argue with the sexy that is Shirtless Basch, this is true.

I picture a horrible conversation with...someone, I don't even know who, that's like
person, in bed with balthier: Huh, you know, your cock looks so similar to your father's! That's fascinating.
Balthier: ...
Balthier: *has died*

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Gabranth. In bed with Gabranth. Or Zargabaath.

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okay um

Cid/Gabranth is

is making me way too happy over here

i think maybe i am wiggling a little

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Gabby says he was hot, you know, before the crazy. And then he was still pretty hot, but, well, it's a little disconcerting to know that there's a third party you can't see looking at your bum. So it's the best thing ever that the good doctor's son happened to be so fantastic in such strikingly similar ways. Without the crazy ephemeral fairy godmother.

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"Is everything all right?" Gabranth asks. It's late; most of Draklor is empty. The other guards have taken their leave. Gabranth, however, is new to the position, and --

The researcher in this room, Dr. Bunansa, looks up and smiles, wry, almost friendly. "It would be better," he says, "with some coffee." His eyes are bright, alert over the rims of his glasses, his face almost unlined, and his hair barely shot with gray. Gabranth finds he's surprised; Dr. Bunansa is a senior researcher, and yet he looks no more than forty. What sort of prodigious talent must it take, to reach this position so quickly?

Gabranth realizes he's staring. "Sir," he says, and bows out. One of the older laboratories has been converted to a makeshift kitchen; Gabranth prepares a small pot, finds a clean cup and some sugar, brings the entire mess back on a tray. It's not appropriate, a servant's task rather than a soldier's, but nobody is here to see.

"Thank you. Ah, none of that," Dr. Bunansa says, when Gabranth bows to take his leave again. He produces a second cup from beneath his desk, sets it beside the first. "Take some yourself. What's your name?"

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<3 best cat

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<3 <3

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*GLEE* Dr. Cid macks on the new kid. Hot.

Also: "It's not appropriate" <--Probably just the beginning of the definition, Gabranth darling.

You's mah hero.

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Secretly I am procrastinating on finishing my SK for tomorrow. I keep trying to get Balthier into Luxord's ~~pockets~~ ~~trousers~~ pockets, and it shouldn't be so bloody DIFFICULT. ._.

...though um. I am really taken with Cid being all charming and suave and -- oh man, Balthier doesn't just take after him physically, and Cid has plenty of experience, and grah, Gabranth is like 20 here and has only been in the Archadian army for a few months and ARGH, why do I have challenges to write?

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Ffamran lifts his glasses and rubs his left eye; there are still more than a hundred pages of precedent to annotate here, and it is already late.

Brisk steps sound, and a mug appears at his elbow. Judge Gabranth appears in the chair across from him. "I find, at this part of the evening, coffee is a judge's best instrument." He sips at his own.

Ffamran startles at the words. That's very nearly his father's favorite expression, but surely such a thing is not so rare; surely there is no small amount of contact between Draklor and the Judiciary. But he sips at the steaming coffee, both mortified and grateful that it's almost as sweet as he prefers it.

Gabranth opens his own set of files and sets to reading, and so Ffamran resettles his glasses, rests his pen against his lip, and refocuses on the fourth folio. He doesn't get to the bottom of the page before he is compelled to look up, his glasses already slipping a little on his nose.

"You know," Judge Gabranth says, "you look just like your father when you do that." And he watches Ffamran as he drinks again, ice-blue eyes slitted as his throat flexes.

Ffamran wants to push his glasses up, but he cannot make his hands move.

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How much do I adore you right now?

SO MUCH. <3

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The adoration? C'est mutual.

*high five for doing everything but what's on the To-Do list!*

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*can only echo cat* j'adore~

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mithrigil.livejournal.com

X X X X X X X

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Balthier just...huddles up into a little ball and whimpers. He doesn't even want to look at it.

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cadence-zero.livejournal.com

Now you've reminded me of my desire to write Vayne/Ffamran again! The bunny is out to get me, I swear. I have a bazillion other things to do, Vayne needs to wait his turn. >_>

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