#Baralai concepts.

[living-in-the-state-of-dreaming]

Okay. Hear me out. I don’t know if any Baralai simps still exist out there on Tumblr because I know Final Fantasy X-2 is a fairly old game remastered or not; but I had an idea.

Arranged marriage with Baralai, with the reader being the one in said arrangement.

Considering he’s the praetor Of New Yevon this would likely happen at one point; if previous arrangement’s haven’t been attempted to be made by others in New Yevon for him already. Because we all know just how pushy some in Yevon can be... Their not exactly known for their subtlety.

#Thoughts Of A Dreamer #I think I've gone back down the Final Fantasy x-2 hole again. #Final Fantasy X-2 #Final Fantasy X-2 HD Remaster #Baralai concepts.

[scorpiyeux]

Baralai Concept

#final fantasy #final fantasy x #final fantasy x-2 #ffx

[howdydarling]

ELI'S MAN LIST.

Long post. Super long post. Super super long. Almost certainly not complete, but I ran outta steam like halfway through, so this is what you get.

IRL MEN. → men i would currently let absolutely wreck me

Ted Raimi - i do not have a single limit or boundary that i would not break for this man.

Lance Henriksen

Josh Brolin

Oscar Isaac

Jason Momoa

Christoph Waltz

→ men i have formerly been interested in who could probs still get it

Jeff Bridges

Robert Knepper

Andrew Scott

David Anders

Zachary Quinto

Leonard Nimoy (if he were still alive)

Karl Urban

DeForrest Kelley (if he were still alive)

Gaspard Ulliel

Paul Bettany

Adam Driver

Domhnall Gleeson

→ men i would probably fuck but not necessarily bc of the usual reasons

Tim Curry

Willem DaFoe

The Skarsgårds

Jack Black

FICTIONAL MEN.

→ SHOWS

→→ Outer Range

Royal Abbott

Perry Abbott

Rhett Abbott

Wayne Tillerson (it'd be a really weird fuck, i know it in my heart)

Billy Tillerson

Luke Tillerson

→→ Doctor Who

The Doctor (Nine / Ten)

The Master

→→ BBC Sherlock

Jim Moriarty

→→ Firefly

Hoban Washburne

Jayne Cobb

Simon Tam

→→ Torchwood

Owen Harper

Jack Harkness

→→ Heroes

Gabriel Gray / Sylar

Adam Monroe / Takezo Kensei

Peter Petrelli

Samuel Sullivan

Edgar

→→ Dollhouse

Alpha

→→ Star Trek (TOS)

Leonard "Bones" McCoy

S'chn T'gai Spock

→→ The Walking Dead

Negan Smith

The Governor

Darryl Dixon

Merle Dixon

→ MOVIES

→→ Tron

CLU 2.0

Rinzler

Kevin Flynn

Alan Bradley

→→ Jurassic Park (franchise)

Robert Muldoon

Ian Malcolm

→→ Zombieland

Tallahassee

→→ Star Trek (NuTrek)

Leonard "Bones" McCoy

S'chn T'gai Spock

Khan

→→ Priest

Black Hat

Ivan Isaacs ("Priest")

→→ Dredd

Dredd

Madeline "Ma-Ma" Madrigal (Mama's not a man but she could get it)

→→ Pacific Rim

Herc Hansen

Stacker Pentecost

Newton "Newt" Geiszler

Hermann Gottlieb

The Kaidanovskys

Hannibal Chau

→→ Hunger Games

Haymitch Abernathy

→→ Alien (franchise)

Bishop

David 8

Walter

Dwayne Hicks Xenomorph

→→ The Lego Movie

Good Cop/Bad Cop

→→ Guardians of the Galaxy

Yondu Udonta

Kraglin

→→ Star Wars (franchise)

Armitage Hux

Kylo Ren

Obi-Wan Kenobi

Han Solo

Cassian Andor

Poe Dameron

Phasma (again, not a man, but Oh Boy)

Qui-Gon Jinn

Boba Fett

Jango Fett

K-2S0

Tobias Beckett

Dryden Voss

Literally any Stormtrooper (not just the clones)

Any/all of the Knights of Ren

→→ Legend

Ronnie Kray

Reggie Kray

→→ The Devil's Carnival

Lucifer

The Agent

→→ Pirates of the Caribbean

Jack Sparrow

Will Turner

Hector Barbossa

Davy Jones

James Norrington

William "Bootstrap Bill" Turner

→→ Labyrinth

Jareth, the Goblin King

→→ Ferngully

Hexxus

→→ James Bond (franchise)

Raoul Silva

James Bond/007 (Daniel Craig)

Ernst Stavro Blofeld

→→ Inglourious Basterds

...am I allowed to say Hans Landa? Hans Landa.

Sgt. Donny Donowitz

Sgt. Hugo Stiglitz

Marcel

→→ The Black Phone

Albert Shaw (look, sorry, don't @ me please)

→→ Scream (franchise)

Ghostface (but like?? the concept of him, rather than any particular actual iteration of him)

Dwight "Dewey" Riley

→→ Venom (franchise)

Eddie Brock

Venom

Cletus Kasady

→→ Dune (2021)

Gurney Halleck Leto Atreides Duncan Idaho Stilgar

→ GAMES

→→ Final Fantasy X/X-2

Auron Jecht Seymour Guado Shuyin Baralai Nooj Gippal Isaaru

→→ Final Fantasy XV

Ignus Scientia Ardyn Izunia Gladiolus Amicitia Regis Lucis Caelum Clarus Amicitia Bahamut

→→ Resident Evil VIII: Village

Karl Heisenberg Sturm Soldats Lycans Varcolac Urias Brothers

→→ Kingdom Hearts (franchise)

Axel

→→ Borderlands (franchise)

Mordecai Handsome Jack Fl4k Zer0 Krieg

→→ Boyfriend to Death (franchise)

Strade Lawrence Oleander

→→ The Price of Flesh

Mason Derek The Auctioneer Jack Komodo Dragon Machete The Demon The Lich

→→ Overwatch

Jack Morrison (Soldier 76) Gabriel Reyes (Reaper) Jamison Fawkes (Junkrat) Mako Rutledge (Roadhog) Reinhardt Wilhelm (Reinhardt) Siebren de Kuiper (Sigma) Cole Cassidy

→→ The Quarry

Travis Hackett Jedediah Hackett Chris Hackett

→→ Fortnite

The Jonesy Collective Midas

→→ Left 4 Dead

Bill Overbeck The Hunter The Smoker

→→ Dragon Age (franchise)

Zevran Anders Fenris Alistair Iron Bull Krem Samson Solas Varric Hawke Cole

→→ Death Stranding

Heartman Higgs Deadman Sam Cliff

→→ Fallout 4

John Hancock Nick Valentine

→→ Detroit: Become Human

Hank Anderson Connor Gavin Reed Nines Simon Ralph Karl Manfred

→ BOOKS

→→ Star Wars

Sinjir Rath Velus Cardinal

→→ Shade's Children

Shade

→→ InkHeart

Dustfinger

→→ A Darker Shade of Magic

Holland Astrid & Athos Dane

→→ Dune

Everyone included in the movie list, plus: Shaddam IV Hasimir Fenring

→ ANIME

→→ Naruto

Gaara Zabuza Sasori Deidara Itachi Kakashi Iruka Kabuto Kisame Shikimaru Kankuro

→→ Trinity Blood

Isaak Fernand von Kampfer Dietrich von Lohengrin Abel Nightroad Cain Nightroad Radu Barvon Leon Garcia de Asturias Tres Iques Hugue de Watteau

→→ Hellsing

Alucard Pip Bernadotte Father Anderson

→→ Loveless

Soubi

#hdhollers. #hdlist.

[icyday]

12, 13, 37, 50. 💜

From this post

12-13

Are there any tropes you used to dislike but have grown on you? Are there any tropes you used to like but don’t anymore?

I don't think I read enough (or write too many of the same things enough) to have any definitive answers to these.

I guess for 12, there was a point where I wasn't really into the concept of 'soulmates' or something similar. Mostly, I think because I like my ships with some kind of semblance of free-choice. But in retrospect, I like the idea of two people who are indelibly connected somehow. (Just think Raye and Mariah/Mara from my own OCs, or as a canon character pairing, a Yuna/Baralai concept from FFX-2 that I never quite got off the ground where they're experiencing lingering side effects from the whole Lenne/Shuyin thing ) so long as there's conflicting priorities or something else actually makes getting together a Bad Idea.

For 13…I used to be a lot more into (or at least tolerant of) het with some of the more traditional romance tropes. I remember re-reading "Those who Come Closest" last year and cringing a bit at the very het, kind of gender-essentialist treatment of the dynamic given in the Ifrit and Shiva chapters specifically.

37.

Promote one of your own “deep cut” fics (an underrated one, or one that never got as much traction as you think it deserves!). What do you like about it?

My Skyrim fic! The Final Confession of Shabhira Moons Stalker

It's not exactly the deepest of cuts, since it's a Yuletide fic. But I'm still really proud of this one. The intent of the story was to write something that could either be plausibly added to Skyrim (or another Elder Scrolls book) as an actual freeform quest, and I definitely feel like I pulled that off in how Shabhira's journey plays out. The worldbuilding still holds up, and the overarching plot of the silent saboteur is one that still captivates me.

50.

Answer any question of your choice, or talk about anything you want to talk about!

To expand bit more about NDKO (the Disco radio station that Raye listens to when Mariah leaves her alone) and the Disco scene in Hell in general:

DJ Magik Mik, the host of the morning show that's used in the story, keeps his Band nature a well-kept secret, even for a D-list celebrity, to the extent that anyone likely to encounter him is forced to sign a very, very strict NDA regarding his Band. That doesn't stop the radio station from advertisting 'Magik Mik' band reveals every few months or so, but something always seems to happen just at the point of reveal that keeps anyone from actually guessing. Balseraph and Shedite have mostly been ruled out, but there's still several running guesses, including a few brave souls who think he's actually an unfledged demonling. An actual Band reveal would dispel pretty much all of the mystery around Mik, so he's very keen to keep up the charade as long as he can.

More in general, the 1980s Disco scene in Hell is quite…fraught. Its popularity has spread out to quite a few Words including some that don't play well with Media, read Death and Fire specifically. This makes running events for NDKO listeners quite fraught, since any event actually worth attending is going to bring in demons who don't know how to (or don't care to) play nice. By the early 1980s, Disco isn't actually very popular among Media or Technology anymore, which makes Mariah's choice to play it in her work room a little weird and off-trend, which isn't suspicious because, well, Mariah's more than a little weird and off-trend.

#asks #fanfiction

[dankokaji]

FFX-3 Yuna concept drawn by @kingcael!

A commission I requested for my Last Will & Testament fic, a FFX-3 Project.

Includes her ultimate weapon, Nirvana, and its personal customization! The sigils written in the paper talismans reference the Aeons; the frayed piece features Sin’s sigil, and the card/tassel on the bottom of the staff is a Braska card like the card of the mother on Anima’s chest.

And we christened the blue/gold snub pistol Blue Needle!

I wanted Yuna’s overall color scheme to reference death and blood, hence the predominant red and black. Plus, the broken staff reflects Yuna’s broken state of mind; in a literal sense, it could have been damaged during Sin’s attack on Bevelle.

Quite the mature look, don’t you agree? :3

#ffx #ffx-2 #ffx-3 #yuna #will #nirvana #braska #kingcael #oh man i'm so in love with the entire thing #kingcael really outdid themselves! #next ffx-3 concept will feature baralai!

[kanrakixystix]

Ship meme

Tagged by the lovely @agi92 <3

First ship you ever read fic for: uhhh...probably something Digimon, before I really ever understood the concept of fan fiction lmao! Probably Taichi/Yamato.

First ship you ever wrote fic for: LMAO Draco/Harry in response to something a friend of mine sent me. I had no idea what I was doing or how balls deep I would get into writing fan fiction at all. 

Ship you write the most now: The most is probably Noctis/Prompto, but I’ve recently written a fair amount of Cor/Loqi. 

Ship you read the most now: Promptis, Corqi, Dawnspecs, Snowbaz. A lot, honestly. 

Newest ship: Probably Snowbaz. 

Rare ship you want to read more of: Cor/Loqi, Cindy/Luna, Gippal/Baralai

Your taboo ship: Taboo ship?? Ships i’m not supposed to ship? Definitely the incest ones lol <-- Keeping this answer because S A M E

They never met in canon ship: I’m sure I have at least one, but I’m drawing a blank. The closest one I can think of off the top of my head is Teddy/James Sirius, but it’s obviously implied that they meet so... Also any shit with Stella because she isn’t real LMAO

Your unexpected ship: Cindy/Coctura was a challenge pair that I took on for Femslash Week and I kind of really love it?? They’re dynamic, at least in my head, is so cute?? OMG THAT WORKS FOR THE ABOVE QUESTION BECAUSE THEY NEVER MET LOL!

The ship you always forget to give love to: I’ve sort of fallen by the wayside with a lot of FFXV pairs, but I still love Highspecs, Promnis, and Lunyx. I also need to show more love to my Taiyama and UsaTora. Gippalai needs more love. I’ll ship them until I die. 

Ship your OC with a canon character (if applicable): I have several OC for multiple fandoms, but I don’t ship them with anyone already in canon. o.o

A ship you’re embarrassed to ship: None, really, but I’ll refrain from announcing them because the backlash is real. 

Your most romantic ship: oh yikes ummm...Promptis?  

Your sexiest ship: Lol Dawnspecs and Gippalai for sure   

Your most tragic ship:  RegClar is fucking tragic y’all. Also Lunyx. 

A ship you want more content for: Hmm, a lot, honestly. Corqi, CindyLu, Gippalai UhhHHHH tagS?: @morethanair @faierius @lizibabbles @birdsandivory @kiriosities

#kanra gets tagged #about kanra #ship meme

[pxine]

if you haven't already, i implore you to write paine's p.o.v during her separation from the boys after the den of woe.

Paine could vaguely remember what was going on. Her head was a haze of so many things that the concept of her surroundings was the last thing on her mind. Her side throbbed. She was on the edge of passing out. The pain from the wound and the exhaustion from her activities prior to it were catching up. Shock was still coursing through her veins, to the point where it felt like her body was frozen with it. She gave a soft grunt at the pressure of fingertips on the bullet-shaped hole in her body. Someone was patching it up. More pressure. Pain flooded up and down her side and she wanted to scream. Instead she passed out. 

When she woke, she was alone. In a room. Her eyes opened to stare at the ceiling and for a brief moment she panicked. “No!” She attempted to sit bolt upright, grab a weapon and move but as soon as she attempted it, pain shot through her side, replacing the panic that had previously washed over her. She groaned, hand going to her side as she lay back down. Her side was bandaged. When had that happened? 

The pain slowly ebbed but the panic was still gnawing at the edges of her being. She looked around as best she could by only moving her head around the room. The panic subsided slightly as she took in her surroundings. She was clearly not in the den anymore. Her mind was playing tricks on her. The sparsely decorated room only told her so much and that it was an Al Bhed place. She didn’t bother trying to read the Al Bhed that was dotted around the room, something else had slipped into her mind.

Nooj had shot them. Had shot her. And Gippal. And Baralai. 

A lump formed in her throat. The thought alone stung. She took a big shaky breath, feeling a rising sense of panic creep up her body. After several deep breaths she calmed herself. Why had he shot them all? Betrayal washed over her as much as the pain had earlier. After all that had happened, after all the time they had spent together, why would he shoot them? For a brief moment, she wondered how the other two were. Were they here with her? She doubted it. Kinoc was most likely hunting them down. Having them all together would be risky but whoever she was with didn’t know that. Despite the feelings of betrayal and panic, there was a rising sense of anger in her too. A hand was already balled at her side, though she barely noticed. Had he been working with the Maesters all along? Was this their final attempt at trying to kill them all off after what they had seen? No-one else had survived and Kinoc had been ready to shoot them mere minutes after they had escaped. 

But even that thought niggled at her. It didn’t sit right. It didn’t feel like something Nooj would do. But, shooting his friends wasn’t something she thought he’d do either and he’d done that, so perhaps anything was possible. Her expression turned sad as she thought about it, her eyes stinging a little as tears threatened to build up. Suddenly, she had no energy to deal with it. To deal with the fact that she’d been shot by one of her closest friends. All she wanted to do was go back to sleep. To drift back into an unconscious slumber for a few days and not have to deal with it. A hand went up to run through her hair. She was thirsty.

Someone knocked on the door and she nearly jumped out of her skin. She turned as best she could towards in the door. “Come in.” The door opened. The Al Bhed who came through knew of the common tongue, which was soothing but she would have to make a conscious effort to speak in Al Bhed around here. “Ruf yna oui vaamehk?” It took Paine a few seconds to translate it and she shrugged, her head turning towards the ceiling. “Tu oui ghuf frana oui yna?” Paine sighed as she mentally translated it and formed a reply. All the while, the woman moved closer. She could see the woman inch closer, trying not to scare her. “Hu.” Her tone was bland, almost devoid of any emotion besides the slightly bored lilt that the single word took on. “Oui'na yd yh Ym Prat ahlysbsahd uvv dra Mi’ihen Highroad. Oui fana ehzinat.” Paine flinched as she translated again. She could hear the pity in the others voice and Paine turned her head towards the wall, her lips pulling down into a frown. Her chest still felt hollow. 

All she wanted to do was sleep and cry and be left alone. “E haat du lr-” Paine cut her off. “Please leave me alone.” She couldn’t do with the Al Bhed anymore. She could hear the woman open her mouth and try to speak again. Paine pointed towards the door, her head turning towards the woman, the best glare she could muster up on her face. The woman got the message and she left. The door clicked shut and Paine waited a few seconds before she slowly pulled herself up into a sitting position. Her top was off, the bandeau she wore the only thing covering her chest. Her gloves were off too and for a few moments, she sat there staring at her hands while the pain subsided. Drawing in a shaky breathe, she turned to look at the room. She wasn’t greeted with much sitting up. There was a bed, a bedside table a chest of draws with bits and pieces decorating it. There was a picture on the wall with Al Bhed on it. Red eyes moved to the bedside table. There on it sat her recorder and a sphere. Her lips parted to take another shaky breathe. Dare she look at it? Which one was it? Kinoc took all of the other spheres she recorded, the only ones she’d had left on her person had been… 

A cold sense of dread went over her, causing the hairs to stand up on her arms. Her breathing picked up as she stared, almost as if they would hurt her, at the items on the desk. She turned her gaze away quickly, glaring at her arms and her hands and the legs that were hidden by the blanket. The feelings of betrayal welled up inside her chest. She wanted to cry. She wanted to be angry. But all the while, all she felt was a strong sense of stupidity at trusting Nooj. She was just a stupid girl. She didn’t even realise her fists were clenched, what counted for nails digging into her palms and hot, angry tears started seeping from her closed eyes.

For a few moments, she sat there, letting the sweet release of tears wash over her as regret and stupidity and betrayal washed over her again and again until something clicked off. It was like someone flicked a light switch and all that ebbed away. Everything she felt and would feel ebbed away. Her fists unclenched, her eyes opened and revealed an emptiness she now felt. 

She laid down, barely wincing at the pain that stabbed through her upper left side and lay there. Staring at the wall until she fell asleep again.

#endsought #;a warrior's stories #+10 respect points for sending this in by the way #because I haven't written a drabble in months 8) #And it turned out super long and I'm not even sorry #I have a lot of feelings about what happened with Paine after the den of woe. #She went emotionally numb; has some semblance of PTSD from it #and only after singing the hymn of the fayth with the rest of Spira did she start to 'recover' from the incident #She still experienced periods of numbness and boy don't even get me started on the nightmares she had afterwards

[chancellorofspira]

💔 (I'M HERE FOR THIS--]

65. My muse comforting saving yours after a nightmare.

[A/N: Takes place in my “Last Will & Testament” canon, sorry, not sorry]

‘Human.’

Tiny, soft paws knead his face, and Baralai turns the other cheek, ignoring his impromptu summons with a cold shoulder, grumbling his groggy complaint. He settles into place, hoping to fall back asleep, but Carbuncle’s lupine nose prods his back now, nuzzling his spine in urgency.

‘Human! Wake up.’

Baralai shifts onto his back, heaving an annoyed sigh, gathering the willpower to wake up. “…what is it?” Until Carbuncle decides to hop onto his stomach, startling him to shoot upright from the rude impact. He rolls onto his lap now, peering up at him with doe eyes even when Baralai glares down at him in resentful reproach.

“Your cuteness does not pardon you of your insolence.”

‘Your human is in danger.’

He rubs his eyes, confused. “My human…? What…?”

‘That human you call your High Summoner. She sleeps, unaware of the assailant in her room–’

His eyes widen in shock, and Baralai springs from his mattress, snatching his firearm beneath his pillow before dashing out his room, neglecting to throw on a bathrobe or coat over his tunic wrap shirt. He emerges into the hallway that winds throughout the living quarters of Lord Tromell’s estate, following Carbuncle’s lead as he appears in front of him, sprinting to phase through a door several rooms down.

Jostling the door open, Baralai prepares for the worst, aiming his gun, and then his face melts into slackjaw surprise. Seymour Guado stands by Yuna’s bedside, hovering over her in a ghastly mess of sinister pyreflies, choking her in his one hand grip.

Opting against brute force, he drops his gun to throw his hand out, casting barrier magic to encase her prone, writhing form in an oval wall of shimmering iridescent light, thus dispelling Seymour’s apparition from her body. He floats to the opposite wall, fixing him a murderous glare while Baralai rushes to her side, careful not to break eye contact with the belligerent Unsent.

“Milady, are you alright?”

No response, except for grunts of pain.

“Lady Yuna…?” Bewildered, Baralai glances at her. She still sleeps, struggling against the nightmare that grips her, and then the horrifying revelation strikes him breathless, motivating him to look back at Seymour’s spectre. “Are you…?”

He merely raises his palm forward in response, a violet circle of ancient symbols igniting the space in front of him and his wicked smile, and gravitational energy seizes his body, propelling Barala to hit the wall behind him. He cries out in speechless pain, immobilized by an invisible force.

Despite being a practitioner of gravity magic himself, Baralai never crossed paths with another who could utilize this same branch of arcane magic, let alone one who could surpass him where he thought he alone excelled.

He strives to focus despite the suffocation that creeps into his lungs. If the rune he constructed happens to be similar to the textbook original, then maybe… Tracing the intricate, sensory lines that channel the spell, he works to untangle it, creating a rune in his mind’s eye to counteract it, racing against time– and then he pours mana into the knot, unraveling it from the core.

Baralai drops to his hands and knees, coughing, gasping for air.

Sharp, high-pitched energy crackles in the air, igniting the dark room in quick, bright flashes. His hairs stand on end, and he sucks in breath, unable to conjure Shell in time to mitigate the brunt of that incoming Thundaga spell. Yet it careens into a rippling opaque wall; intercepted by a Reflect spell, it bounces right back to its caster, incinerating the space Seymour occupies, doing little to disrupt his ephemeral form.

Pyreflies signal Carbuncle’s appearance, and the lupine lands on the carpet before him with a graceful spin, standing vigilant on all fours.

‘Take extra care, human. You almost perished in a moment of weakness.’

‘I know.’

Yes, he must not succumb to sentimentality which nostalgia begets. Master he may have been once upon a time, not anymore. The ghost of Seymour Guado past intended to murder Yuna in her sleep, never mind the morbid implications of his exact conception.

His hand brushes the lacquered length of a staff, and he gasps, recognizing the regal headpiece of the legendary Nirvana staff. It must have fallen from the impact of Seymour’s assault. He cradles it in his hand, and laments the chipped wing and tattered paper talismans. Power thrums beneath his fingertips, soothing his nerves and the sweaty surface of his palms.

Baralai finds the strength to stand, fixing his stance to brandish it between them.

Violence and brute force will not affect him, let alone harm him, so he must attempt to banish Seymour instead. Balancing the staff perpendicular to his chest, he arrests his wintry gaze with a single look, attaching himself to the pyreflies that permeate the room. He experiences flashes of the memory warped by a wide spectrum of odious emotions– of hate and resentment, fear, regret, and a sliver of hope.

Yuna’s memories of Seymour Guado. Her abuse by his hands, her struggle, her grief and strife. Her curiosity, and her infantile admiration of him, too. ‘Aah, I found it. The door to her repose.’ He guides that memory into the forefront, injecting that emotion into every straggling pyrefly that whistles in eerie chorus, swinging her staff in counterclockwise circles, presenting a reminder of time in the eyes of the beckoned.

“Remember your place. Remember the deceased, not the deceit. For they are facsimiles born of woebegotten memory. Awaken, Lady Yuna. Your husband lives no more, only in your memory. Awaken from the dream!”

He arrests Nirvana in a vertical stance, holding it parallel to his body, unleashing mana in a single, powerful burst. It sweeps across the whole room, causing Seymour’s apparition to ripple, which strives to maintain his form. When the pyreflies screech in protest, intending to feed off their host’s fears some more to sustain itself, Baralai unleashes another wave of mana in response, severing their connection and reinforcing his will.

His silhouette disperses in a violent shimmer, and the pyreflies fade into silence.

Once enough time has passed for him to feel reassured, Baralai drops his arms to his sides, releasing the breath he had been holding in. Allowing his barrier spell to dissipate, he glances at the woman who slumbers on. Her pinched brow relaxes, as well as her tense body, and her strangled breaths subside into a quiet slow.

Baralai sighs, relieved.

.

Someone kept knocking on his door, no matter how much he opted to ignore them. Wakka swears in guttural complaint, throwing his sheets aside to stumble out of bed. He stomps over to his door and slams it open, squinting his crusted eyes in a menacing glare.

“Can’t you take a hint? I’m sleeping, dammit!”

He does a double take, though, once he processes the bewildering sight before him.

Baralai does not falter, even when the older man looks about ready to strangle an explanation out of him. He adjusts Yuna’s comatose body in his arms, his expression weary, yet serious, brooking no room for bashful behavior.

“We have a situation on our hands.”

#[ Last Will & Testament | FFX-3 ] #yunafied #you have your h/c #I got mine~ #I've been dying to write something like this for awhile #thanks for the opportunity #:D #meme

[fantasyscholar00]

Baralai x Gippal: The Bromance Chronicles -  CHAPTER ONE

Chapter One of a series focusing on a bromance relationship between Final Fantasy X-2′s Baralai and Gippal, told from Baralai’s viewpoint.

Pre-X-2. Pre-Crimson Squad.

Word Count: 1546

Read Time: 2-3 mintues

[Please click “Archive” link located above to view previous chapters]

-

The pristine Luca sunshine lusciously beat down on the serene coastal city. A recent highly-publicized sphere break tournament re-ignited the city’s love for the game and alas, the boisterous sound of spheres being mercilessly smashed together intertwined with the rhythmic ambience of the ocean waves gently washing up against the dockyard of Luca Harbour. The Luca Stadium stood proudly atop Luca Bridge, it’s clear, crystal ball-like architecture boldly setting it aside from its modern, everyday-looking counterparts.

A sombre-looking young man was leaning over the pathway rail bars, over-looking Luca’s picturesque blue shores. He ran his hands through his silky, grey hair as he scanned the pearly blue horizon. He thought about these days, the glorious days of his youth, and wished they would last forever.

Why? The doleful man thought, Why must I be the one to take on such a momentous duty? He looked ahead, as far ahead as his hazel brown eyes could see. The day will come when I look back on these moments…and they’ll be nothing but memories. Someday, I will be chosen…someday, I will lead a nation…someday I will be…Baralai: Praetor of New Yevon.

“Yo!” a voice echoed.

A familiar voice shook him out of his melancholy-induced, daze-like state. As he turned around to see a fresh-faced Al Bhed walking down the pathway toward him.

Gippal.

He smiled, then laughed, as Gippal mockingly pranced toward him as a bride does to her groom.  

“Bro!” Gippal shouted, as he romantically pranced toward him.

Gippal embraced him with open arms and playfully latched onto him, as a child does to the leg of his mother or father.

“Ha-ha, late as usual, I see” Baralai chuckled, arms mid-air, somewhat embarrassed to publicly return Gippal’s affection.

“I just missed ya so much, man! A whole week without you calling me even once? You’re killin’ me!” Gippal shouted, as his spiked blonde hair rustled against Baralai’s attire giving him the sensation of a blunt porcupine rubbing against him. “You left me all alone for a week to do your fancy praetor training in Bevelle, man, that’s torture right there!” he said, still forcefully hanging on to him.

“Ha-ha, yeah. My apologies…” Baralai replied, laughing at Gippal’s child-like behaviour.

Baralai had always liked this about Gippal. Sure his playful, immature nature contrasted his mature, laid back demeanour, but he liked the fact that he had a friend that could take his mind off his looming, pre-determined future. A friend with whom he could be Baralai; citizen of Spira, as opposed to Baralai: The Next Great Leader of New Yevon.

Gippal gave Baralai’s torso one last bear-hug squeeze before he finally released him and gathered himself. His flawless, tan skin glistened in the sunlight as he straightened out his outfit; tan cargo shorts and blue flip-flops complete with a white “Al-Bhed Boyz Rule” print sleeveless t-shirt.

“Man, it’s hot out!” Gippal said, releasing a sigh of relief as he swung his arms and dotingly paced around, absorbing Luca’s serene scenery.

Baralai took Gippal’s innocent doting as a chance to examine him. He looked at at his defined jawline, then at his toned physique, then at both his emerald-green eyes, then finally at his gelled, beach-blonde hair. He’d always wondered how he got it to stay so perfectly styled every day…He’d always thought to ask, but was beginning to grow fond of not knowing.

“So” Gippal said, as he let out a grunt hoisting himself up to sit on the rail guard. “What did they teach ya? How to eat from a crystal-handled dessert spoon? How to properly consume a glass of Château de Moonflow? Or perhaps how to politely blow one’s nose into a shoopuf-skinned handkerchief?” Gippal playfully jaunted.

Realising two of the three things Gippal had said were things he’d actually been taught by the Bevelle Council’s royal etiquette contingent, he was suddenly overcome with a sudden out-of-character urge to join Gippal’s mocking.

“Why, yes-” he started, putting on his best pretentious sounding voice. “I also learnt how to graciously accept bows from my oh-so royal servants, how to elegantly walk down Bevelle’s decadent vestibules whilst having rose petals gracefully thrown at me, how to thrice tie the Coeurl-skinned bow that sits ever so neatly upon my royal attire, and let’s not forget, how to properly wield a mana-infused lance in case the precious praetor faces danger from blood-curling invading forces” he said, finishing his animated speech with a mock attack stance.

Gippal stared at Baralai in disbelief. Then fell forwards off the rail he’d been perching on and onto the ground, clutching his stomach and shaking with uncontrollable laughter.

“Dude, that was hilarious!” Gippal exclaimed, unable to contain his laughter.

Baralai doubled back in mild shameful-docility, reflecting on the out of character monologue. Perhaps it was the immaculate Luca weather, or perhaps it was the joy of being reunited with his closest friend after a week of having every aspect of his behaviour being primed and groomed by over-zealous, analytical New Yevon seniors, but Baralai was in an unusually playful mood.

Gippal finished his laughter, let out a few post-laugh coughs, then stood back up and put his arm around Baralai.

“Damn bro, that’s a first. Finally taking a leaf outta ol’ Gippal’s book and learning how to loosen up, eh?” he said, rubbing Baralai’s shoulder.

What Gippal said had a smidge of truth to it. Baralai had been living with Gippal for just over a month now, and pieces of Gippal were beginning to show in Baralai every now and then. From waking up and carelessly chowing down leftover pizza from the night before as a pre-breakfast snack, to adopting his “if it smells good, just wear it” attitude towards laundry, and even to the vocabulary he used.

The fact that they were living together was a miraculous wonder in itself. Baralai’s father had requested he live in a Bevelle manor he had acquired, which would’ve meant living a tightly-scheduled life of gourmet breakfast-in-bed consisting of the finest imported fish and fruit Besaid island has to offer, dressing in luxury hand-woven garments provided to him by Guadosalam’s best tailors, and the occasional evening attendance to one of Bevelle’s many royal hall shows, with a beautiful female escort to hand of course.

However, living the luxurious life of a royal-to-be didn’t entice him. He instead wanted to live a regular life as a regular citizen of Spira, with Gippal as a budding companion and roommate. When Baralai courageously approached his father with the concept, he callously rejected it. Due to various unconfirmed rumours coming from both Bevelle and the Machine Faction about Gippal, his father saw the young Al Bhed as an untamed wild-child that would do nothing but be a bad influence upon New Yevon’s next great leader. After growing weary of Baralai’s tireless efforts to convince him, he presented him with a proposition; Baralai’s father was to purchase him a luxury maisonette in Luca’s most affluent neighbourhood, but in exchange, Baralai was to live in the Bevelle manor for one week every month to be trained and groomed for the throne.

“The house is a mess, dude. I tried hoovering it with that new machina your dad sent us, but I gave up halfway when the Beasts vs Duggles game came on, you know I can’t resist a good blitzball game” Gippal explained, as he started to walk in the direction of their home.

Baralai chuckled, “Same as ever, I see” he replied, shaking his head as he followed his lead, “You really should learn how to discipline yourself” he expressed.

The pair walked in unison as they slowly made their way down the footpath.

“So, whaddaya gonna whip up for me when we get home? I’m guessing they must’ve taught you some cooking skills. The future praetor mustn’t depend on his servants too much, now” he said playfully.

“No, they didn’t teach me anything like that. But I have taken it upon myself to learn some new recipes” Baralai said, nodding his head proudly.

“For real? Haha, yeah! Gippal’s eatin’ good tonight!” he said, punching the air with his fist.

The pair were now walking past Luca Harbour, and a familiar smell of wooden cargo crates mixed with sea breeze filled the air. Workmen were busy operating heavy machina to sort the shipments they’d received, street kids were joyously playing among themselves and elderly couples were contently walking arm-in-arm with one another.

Baralai watched Gippal as he relaxingly sauntered ahead, admiring the weather. He was glad he had Gippal as a friend. He could sense Gippal was different from anyone else he’d met before. Granted, his sheltered Bevelle upbringing prevented him from ever having many close relationships, but he could tell Gippal was a keeper. His gaze averted from Gippal and settled on the scenery of the port. He began to think again.

As the winds of change blow at a slow but steady pace, my return to Bevelle was a stark reminder of the days that await me. What obstacles will I face as the ruler of a great nation? I am uncertain. Alas, I must stop these thoughts of disparagement and look ahead. I will walk boldly, taking each day as it comes. With Gippal in my stride.

-END-

#fanfic #final fantasy fanfiction #final fantasy x-2 #final fantasy x #final fantasy xv #square enix #bromance #chapter one #baralai x gippal: the bromance chronicles #baralai #gippal

[dankokaji]

Character concept for FFX-3,Part III! Once again drawn by @kingcael!

🌟  For my Last Will & Testament fic~ 🌟

Yuna | Baralai | Chuami

Weapon of Choice: A short-bow christened Thorn Queen (or Rose Thorn, whichever sounds snazzier)

Wears the phoenix crest of the Spiran Council on the sleeves around her biceps

Shamelessly inspired by Katniss from Hunger Games; I can totally picture Chuami as an archer, not magically inclined like her partner, Kurgum (who shall be the next on my list for character concepts!). Cael and I had a super tough time picking her colors, since we’ve got nothing but a head-shot concept sketch to work with. 

And am I the only one who pictures her as a red-head? XD

In the end, we settled for earthy, pink tones and a rose motif, since she’s definitely got the attitude for it, haha. (Thank you, Pinterest, for all the amazing fashion references~)

#ffx-3 #chuami #last will & testament #fanfic #kingcael #fanart #ffx #ffx-2

[dankokaji]

Character Concept for FFX-3, Part II! 

🌟  For my Last Will & Testament fic~ 🌟

This time it’s Baralai! Drawn by the ever prolific and magnificent @kingcael!

For Yuna’s FFX-3 Concept, click here.

His weapon arsenal includes his trademark Razor Rod (new and improved, customized by Rikku herself), daishō (a katana and wakizashi) for quick draw fighting, and a handgun christened Razorwing!

His bolero jacket includes the phoenix crest in association with the Spiran Council, and strapped on his right bicep is the Yevonic “G” letter! (A small detail connected to the Warrior Monks of Bevelle.) I wanted to emphasize his departure from the Yevon name by dropping his religious vestments and emphasizing a military-esque look. 

A note by the artist who personally customized his Razor Rod:

“There’s buttons on the connection point of the rings that would activate a sliding mechanism inside to make the spikes stick out… magnets on the pole connection points, as well as a cord inside.

So the blunt part is for heavy jabs that could crack bones with enough pressure, but then the spikes come out for slashing! …The rings detach completely and lock into the ends when they’re in use, but are easier to pack around when they’re not. He could even use the rings as chakrams if he so wished.”

#kingcael is killer king #killer king artist for life #i love you kingcael #you're the best #artist for life #ffx-2 #ffx #ffx-3 #last will & testament #fic #commission #baralai #so much thought and research went into this man's multi-functional wardrobe and personal armory lol

[dankokaji]

[FFX -Will-] Quatervois (FF Kissing Battle 2017) (Baralai/Yuna)

Written for seventhe’s Final Fantasy Kissing Battle 2017 on livejournal.

Prompt: Baralai/Yuna, many paths to the same destination

@lifeofkj this is for you, 

as you continue to inspire me with your stories

Rating: PG

Warnings: Spoilers for FFX-2.5 novel

Word Count: 3647

Yuna’s hand hovers over his door, her knuckles just shy of the knock. She had woken up from a fitful nightmare no more than a couple of hours after she had decided to try at sleep. The events of last week still plague her mind, of Sin’s beckoned return and the inevitable shadow it casts.

Sighing, she drops her hand, and folds her arms. ‘What am I doing here…?’

Yuna left the comfort and safety of her home island to visit Bevelle on a fool’s errand, concerned by Tidus’s ailing health; in the end, she let herself be carried away by the Council’s plight. How Baralai manages to maintain his calm, even during moments of extreme stress, Yuna does not know, but she envies him for his initiative.

While everyone had been reduced to a mindless panic over Sin, Baralai acted quick to dispatch his Senders, banishing it within the first hour of its conception. Confidence and resolve raises his shoulders, instead of burdens them. Less people are calling upon the High Summoner now, hailing the Chancellor as their new hero. She can’t blame them, not when she sees how he throws himself into the heart of social media as the icon of progressive politics. Baralai shines so brilliantly in the limelight that it repels her, casting light over the shadows in her heart.

‘How can I face him?’

Yuna thought they had managed to come to an understanding, despite her persistent cold shoulder to his repeated summons. Their personal interests and private associations are always at conflict, and as always, Baralai never holds it against her, even while they stand at a crossroads, in which she had been the one to conjure it. Sometimes she wonders what that man sees in their fragile, complicated friendship; that being the least of her problems. Being here in Guadosalam, so far away from everything from the events of last week, makes it easy to forget it ever even happened. Pushing Tidus away by ending their relationship, surviving the invasion of Sin, hosting a vigil of all the lives lost― she thought that had been the end of it, at least for awhile.

But Baralai had to prove her wrong.

She bolted, at the high point of the meeting, right when he highlighted the primary causes of the Beckoning phenomena. He cited her actions, vanquishing Sin and then disassembling Vegnagun, as the two catalysts for the Farplane’s imbalance. After the dissolution of the Summoners, no one saw the point of continuing the Sending rites, therefore the pyreflies had no guide to usher them to the Farplane, thus overflowing the surface world with more fiends. Add Vegnagun and its leech of the Farplane’s energy to fuel its cannon, no wonder Spira wound up like this.

And then Baralai proceeds to flip that argument on its head, stressing the importance of Summoners and refuting the memory of Beclem’s cruel words.

“We need Summoners more than ever. They are responsible for recycling the energy that flows in our world, ushering the pyreflies of the deceased to rest within the Farplane. It was a grave mistake to believe Summoners are irrelevant then, and now we are paying for that ignorance in light of the Beckoning epidemic.”

Yuna felt shame, fear, and frustration all at the same time, the fact that she were to blame when she only did what she believed had been right. No one could have predicted this kind of turnout... not unless you were a suicidal psychopath the likes of Seymour. If Baralai’s statement were to leave that room, the people of Spira may turn on her, the leader of an unpopular organization of scapegoats. For that reason, she had been avoiding Baralai all day, brushing off Tromell and Kurgum's fretting concern, and Wakka and Paine's insufferable looks. But by the end of the day, she knew. Baralai never outright attacked her, only provided an objective thesis. His ability to separate his emotions from his profession, she wants to know his secret, because she can't do it, not anymore.

'Enough is enough. If I don't talk to him now, I'll never get around to it.' As much as she wants to avoid this, she must, and so she knocks, and she waits.

For a fleeting moment, she wonders: 'Is he asleep?' A part of her prays that he is, so she could use that as an excuse not to face him, but then she hears his voice answer, dashing her fickle, delirious hope to ashes.

“...come in.”

Yuna takes a deep breath, rewraps the cotton robe around her frame, and twists the doorknob, slipping inside. She finds him seated at a coffee table with his back turned to her, contemplating over the documents spread out before him, his hand busy with the pen.

“My apologies, Scisero. I meant to wrap this up earlier, but I happened to remember some things I wanted to write down…” Baralai does not even take a moment to fix the open collar of his silk bathrobe before he turns to face her, expecting her to be his Guado advisor. Now he stares at her in surprise, startled by her presence in his room. “Lady Yuna, good… Good evening.” He rises to stand, one hand on the edge of the table, where a thin stack of papers flutters to the floor. Embarrassed, Baralai stoops to recollect them. “Ah, sorry about that…”

“N-No, it's alright, I… it's me who should apologize…” Yuna manages a feeble reply, caught off guard by this rare moment of clumsiness from the most composed gentleman in Spira. She shouldn't find that cute, but she does, and so she stifles the smile.

Baralai straightens up on his feet, clearing his throat, setting the papers aside. “To what do I owe the visit?”

She watches him lean on the edge of the table, crossing his arms over his partially exposed chest, and she realizes how this must look. She came to his bedchambers in the dead of night, clothed in only a bathrobe and a sheer camisole. No wonder he acts so guarded.

She blushes, self-conscious.

“I… I wanted to apologize, for earlier… I ran out on your meeting, right when you reached the key point of your presentation. I'm sorry. You must be upset with me.”

“Upset? No…”

Yuna looks up at the sound of his chuckle, seeing his soft smile.

“I was worried. For some time, I thought I said something that upset you.”

“You did. I mean, I know you didn't mean to, but I― Did you really mean it? Did you… Do you honestly think… it's my fault, that we're in this current state…?”

“Lady Yuna, even the noblest of intentions can lead to negative consequences." His forthright words carry more impact than she ever expected they would, and she finds herself at a loss for words, uncertain of how she should feel. So adept at switching between the faces of friend and politician, that he often bewilders her. "I only stated the facts. I don't blame you or your actions; I praise you, in fact, for only you and your Guardians could have accomplished any of those feats. But it doesn't soften the truth, that we are all at fault for failing to notice sooner.”

His kind words render her speechless, and in the ensuing silence, Yuna catches him watching her, feeling self-conscious. She averts her eyes when he attempts to initiate eye contact, afraid that he can read her.

“We've come so far from where we used to be, and yet here we are, stuck at yet another impasse…” Baralai chuckles, thoughtful. “I abandon the Yevon name to start anew, and you go ahead and adopt it not long after. Coming from the woman who gave away a highly confidential and controversial sphere to the Youth League, I am quite surprised. What inspired this change of heart?”

Yuna remains silent on the matter, not ready to open that can of worms.

At her cold response, Baralai sighs. “...was that all you wished to talk to me about?”

“Ah, yes. Sorry to have bothered you… I… I, um, shall be going back to sleep now...”

He smiles, amicable. “It was not a bother. You can come to me anytime.”

His words make her pause. With one hand on the doorknob, she weighs her options.

She meant to walk out and never look back, but… They are alone, and she can ask him anything. When will there ever be another chance?

“...No. That wasn’t… everything...”

Dropping her arm, she scavenges the courage to turn around and face him. His posture has not changed; he still stands there, leaning on the table with his arms crossed. Only the expression on his face changed, regarding her his usual mild-mannered smile. “C-Can I ask you something? Your meeting today… it got me thinking…”

She walks forward, one tiny, timid step at a time, with her head bowed and her gaze glued to the floor, tracing the path of her feet. “Spira’s been thrown in a state of confusion, and you… somehow, you… You were able to make sense of everything.”

Now, Yuna raises her eyes, scavenging the courage to look him in the eye. “Could you help me understand something that happened in Besaid... one year ago?”

“Certainly.”

She blinks, startled by his immediate acquiesce. He accepted it without so much as a second thought that she wrings her hands, self-conscious. “I― I-I must warn you, it’s a long story… a-and, you must be tired―.”

“It’s quite alright.” Baralai smiles, appeasing her of her rapid, anxious thoughts. “I wouldn’t have said yes if I weren’t in the mood. Here. Why don’t you take a seat?”

He motions to the one other chair in the room, and she accepts his offer, sitting across from him as he follows suit. “Um, where do I start…”

“You can take as long as you need.”

She frowns. That’s just being far too gracious.

“...After we parted ways, I went back home after deciding to leave the Gullwings. I prepared myself to face the matrons, to speak with them about that day I felled Sin. I had been avoiding the truth over my victory against Sin, the dissolution of the Church, because…” She chokes up, sensing her throat constrict.

‘I was selfish. It was too personal for me to share... If I talked about it, I would have had to acknowledge that he―.’

“Lady Yuna?”

His concerned voice anchors her back to the present, and she swallows. “I-I couldn’t tell them. I wasn’t ready to tell them. For two years, I couldn’t… When I joined the Gullwings, even after I scoured every inch of Spira, I still couldn’t find… what I was looking for. I could have looked longer, I know I could. That thought crossed my mind many times, but… I felt that I looked enough. Our battle in the Farplane reinforced that feeling.”

Yuna stops to take a deep breath, losing the strength to continue. ‘I can’t stop here. I must…’ 

“But, the moment I arrived at Besaid, I… I found him. He was waiting for me. The person lost to me, my Guardian… The Fayth of Bahamut returned him to me, for one lifetime. It made me… so happy...” She trails off, sensing the tears well up in her eyes, and she hesitates to wipe them away, for fear that would expose her.

“Congratulations.” He smiles, reclining on the back of his chair with a casual cross of his arms.

To her relief, he spares her any comment on her tears, and she sniffles.

“Of course, I couldn’t... be happy for long. His return threw all of my priorities into question. I wanted a life with him, more than anything, but… I knew I couldn’t keep running away from my responsibilities either, so… While the dinner preparations for my homecoming were underway, I spent the entire night with them. I told the matrons everything, and they begged me to restore the idle clergy. I managed to avoid giving them a straight answer by telling them I needed time to think about it, and I…”

She pauses to giggle, overtaken by the fond memory. “I convinced the Besaid Aurochs to lend me their boat, The Ace, so I could be alone with… him…”

“Ah.”

His knowing smile makes her want to self-combust from mortification. “Y-Yes, I― I-It’s been so long, I― I just wanted to, erm…”

He laughs now, waving her off. “You don’t have to explain yourself."

“Yes, um… right.” Yuna clears her throat, composing herself. “Y-You can stop me anytime you want me to, in case you get bored or―.”

“No, no, continue. You have my undivided attention. After all, I want to believe there lies a point to all this gratuitous context.”

“...so, we, um, drifted out into sea, but not too far from Besaid, and we had… a long talk about everything. The passage of time between us, what I must do now that Spira has settled into the Eternal Calm. We ended up disagreeing… on a lot of things, actually. I shouldn’t be surprised. We always tend to disagree on things... The distance between us made it even worse... And then, a terrible squall hit Besaid overnight, and we were stranded somewhere farther out at sea where we couldn’t see any stretch of land. With our boat nowhere in sight, most likely destroyed due to the storm, we struggled to keep the aquatic fiends at bay, until eventually… I don’t know how, I passed out at some point, but we woke up on an island eerily similar to Besaid. We didn’t know where we were, and we couldn’t find any people, let alone a village, but... Little did we know at the time, we were marooned on an island summoned by an Unsent Summoner from a thousand years ago. A Dream version of Besaid, not unlike Yevon’s summoning of Zanarkand.

“As we continued to explore it, we found statues of old deities I never heard of. I don’t remember all their names, they were etched on the stone... Luchera, Guard, Kush… Ifarnal… to name a few. They were positioned in such strange ways that we couldn’t understand if they were meant to lead visitors astray or protect the children from getting lost.” Yuna stops there, becoming aware of her rambling. Because of that, she catches the rapt expression on his face, of him immersed in thought.

“Fascinating… To think there might have existed a completely different type of religion worshipped by the people who lived before Yevon’s time. Gods and deities separate from the Fayth we knew… How did their mythology come to exist…?”

She giggles, amused. "That’s something I never thought to ask. Maybe I should have...”

“Who?”

“Ifarnal. The Unsent Summoner I mentioned earlier. He inhabited the island with a woman he called his ‘Aeon Core,’ a different kind of Fayth. Not a stone statue, but a being who could exist after death. Like a fiend. She introduced herself to me, after I came in contact with her Summoner. He, Ifarnal… helped me restore Tidus to his original state, after he…” Yuna panics, cursing at herself for getting carried away with details.

‘Oh, no, I’m slipping… I shouldn’t have gone that far…’

“Tidus was… mortally wounded… by a bomb disguised as a blitzball…”

Baralai’s eyebrows rise at that. “Really?”

“Yes. Ah, one of Ifarnal’s other Aeon Cores, a human who was part machine… I think it was human… When it saw us, it probably confused us for hostiles trespassing on their territory. Its mind might have still been stuck in the time of the Machina War…”

“I am relieved you two made it out alive, then. But… What did you mean when you said, ah… Ifarnal, was it? He helped you restore Sir Tidus to his original state? You couldn’t have healed him with your magic?”

“I… didn’t have my staff! I was in a panic, and I couldn’t… put myself in a proper state of mind…”

“So, what did he do? This Unsent that felt compelled to help you?”

Baralai looks unconvinced, and she starts to sweat. She must divert him with another topic of interest.

“...ah, um… he bestowed upon me an ancient technique… of summoning, unique to Bevelle. Tidus is… not like the rest of us. He’s from Zanarkand, a dream version of Zanarkand that Yevon summoned with his city of devotees. He managed to exist outside this Zanarkand by riding Sin, and… because of the Fayth. They sustained his mortal life during his time in Spira.”

“...I see.”

He hums, thoughtful.

She doesn’t know if that’s a good thing, so she waits.

Even though Yuna only revealed a portion of the truth, would he be able to figure it out?

“Does that mean… His life is not his own, then? He can exist so long as the Fayth wishes him to, but even then… The Fayth departed from our world after you vanquished Sin. Why is that? They didn’t have to leave us, did they?”

“I only spoke to Bahamut at length, but they all seemed to say… That they were tired of dreaming. They wanted to sleep, after so many years…”

Back then, Yuna didn’t understand the depth of their suffering. Not an inkling. But now… She wishes she didn’t. She scorns them and criticizes them, even though she empathizes with them to avoid the glaring flaw in herself.

“That makes sense. I don’t blame them, honestly,” Baralai says with a wry smile, bringing her back to the present. “Hm... That begs the question, though...”

“What?”

“Is Sir Tidus a beckoning?”

Her breath stops, and she cradles her hand over her wavering heart.

“...No.”

“Did he die, then? In that explosion. You were being awfully vague about that part.”

As much as Yuna wants to flee from this room, she had been the one to dig this hole. Now she must lie in this bed that she made, hoping she can die in it. Anything to avoid his soul-piercing questions. “...Yes. But he is not a beckoning. I can assure you of that.”

“What is that, if not a beckoning?” He sounds more weary and annoyed than anything else, least of all condescending, but she can hear his sarcasm in the rhetoric. It evokes that feeling of guilt and shame, but most of all―

‘No. I don’t… regret anything…’

“He… is a dream. He’s my dream now, not the Fayth’s anymore. I’ve been… summoning him all this time. Ifarnal taught me how.”

“Lady Yuna.”

Baralai opens his mouth, about to say something, but then thinks better of it and sighs.

She senses he must be revising the words in his head. Soon, she will be wishing he never spoke at all.

“Lady Yuna… Why do you keep doing this to yourself?”

Ire rises in her throat, and she bites back the spiteful frown, incensed by his tone. “It’s my choice. I don’t expect you to understand.”

She knows she made a fatal mistake the moment those words flew out her mouth. The kind amber glow in his soft eyes darken to pitch black, and he looks away, propping his cheek on the end of his fist. The way he stares off into space frightens her, because she knows what kind of thoughts he tends to harbor. He once carried the shadow of Shuyin, after all, and she can see a trace of him now, of the rage outlined in the tension of his jaw, the intensity of his gaze.

“You love him, but you can’t find it within yourself to let go, can you?”

Something snaps within her, in which his words open the floodgates and she can’t hope to keep them shut any longer.  

Yuna crumbles into herself, allowing her tears to flow free.

~

Yuna dreams of the ocean.

She dreams of sleeping, feeling the waves rock the wooden, creaking walls of The Ace in its gentle, strong embrace. As the boat sinks for the last time and Yuna sinks further into the bed, she stirs, curious by the sudden loss of swaying. Inside this sparsely-decorated cabin, sunlight filters through the porthole, blanketing her in warmth. Darkness swathes her surroundings the moment she opens her eyes, blinded by the candlelight bleeding into her blurry vision, before someone’s hand reaches out to dowse the wick. She stares up at the broad back of her bedside companion, watching him brood in silence. The scent of sweet smoke fills the room, tickling her nose, and she sneezes.

Sensing him turn to look at her, she feels shy under his fond gaze. 

“Bless you.”

“Th-Thank you…”

“Did I wake you? If so, I apologize.”

“Ah, it’s alright… Um, I’m sorry… I fell asleep on you…”

“No worries. I assumed you were tired. You unloaded quite a lot of baggage there.”

She blushes, self-conscious, and before she can formulate a witty retort, he reaches out to stroke her head, brushing her long, messy hair out of her face. Her heartbeat races, and stills again when his hand begins to slow, projecting his timidity as well as her own. He lifts a lock of her hair between his fingers and touches the tail end of it to his lips, lingering on the gesture.

“Goodnight, milady. I shall see you in the morning.”

Scarlet heat blooms in her cheeks, and she squeaks in response. Thank the Fayth he cannot see her face in the dark.

Baralai smiles and drops his hand, standing to exit the room. In the quiet echo of the door’s close, another one opens, and she tries to deny it by burying her blushing red face into the pillow in vain.

‘I didn’t even finish telling him the full story. Oh, well… Maybe next time.’

#yuna #baralai #ff kiss battle 2017 #ffx #ffx-2 #ffx-3 #ff-will- #fanfic #for owlmoose #otherwise known as lifeofkj on tumblr #baralai/yuna