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kootiepatra · 2 years

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#FFxivWrite2022 - Day 15 Prompt: "Row"

row (intransitive verb): to engage in a row: have a quarrel

Squeaking in under the wire with this piece that I've been turning over in my brain ever since the MSQ dropped lore bombs about it.

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She burst through the door into the stone-silent hallway, robes billowing behind her, tears streaking down her face beneath her black mask. Hot on her heels was a red-masked colleague.

“Azem, stop.”

But she didn’t stop. She didn’t even acknowledge him, as she paced away from the council chambers at nearly a run. He jogged behind her and caught her elbow.

“Stop.”

“I do not want to talk to you right now,” she said, yanking her arm away.

“I can see that,” he replied in obvious exasperation. “But we quite literally do not have time for this.”

“We had time enough for weeks of aimless deliberation, however.”

With her gift of hearing, Azem had been one of the very first people on the star to perceive that something was amiss—a sickly keening from creation itself that had sent a chill deep in her bones. She had rushed to the site of the first outbreak as fast as she could, guided by the direction of the sound. The chaos and death that met her there, the generation of monstrosities like she had never seen, was too awful to think on. She had bolted straight back to the Convocation to beseech them to do something.

And they had done what the Convocation was always wont to do—they dithered and philosophized about their responsibility to intervene.

Thus, Azem felt the time for talking was long past.

Emet-Selch took a deep breath and forced himself to stay calm. He was not surprised she was upset. He was surprised, however, that she was proving so resistant to seeing reason. He had to get her on board. “May we talk?” he asked, in as level of a tone as he could.

“That is what we have been doing.”

“No,” he said, his temper starting to flare, before reeling it back under control. “I mean us. The two of us.”

He gestured at a vacant meeting room. She stopped and stared, and then she relented. She had no patience at the moment for the Convocation as a whole. But she had to extend another chance to her friend.

The two stepped inside and he closed the door behind them. They stood and regarded one another in tense silence. He was the first to speak. “All right,” he sighed. “Let me hear it.”

“I know not what you want me to say,” she muttered, her voice almost breaking with sorrow. “Surely you see why this plan is unthinkable.”

“I do not see,” he replied emphatically. “I was one of the main architects of the plan. It is the only way to save our people.”

“Half our people.”

“Rather than losing all of them? Yes. I would save whomever I can. It is beyond me that you cannot comprehend something so simple.”

She seethed. “I can comprehend it perfectly. And if all that mattered were numbers, I would have no objection. But these are people, Emet-Selch. Lives. To knowingly put even one such life on the bargaining table is appalling.”

“A fine moral theory,” he replied brusquely, “but we are talking about mankind’s extinction. The times are desperate, and so, I concede, are our measures. We have a duty--all of us--to do whatever it takes to ensure that as many as possible survive. You of all people should know this, as a Shepherd to the inhabitants of this star.”

“What kind of shepherd simply feeds half the flock to the wolves?” she exclaimed. “Even should she sate their hunger for a time, it would be an unforgivable dereliction of duty.”

“And if it is the only way to save any?” he asked, his voice straining.

She folded her arms and stared into the woodgrain of the conference table, going silent for a moment. “...I cannot accept that it is ever the case that such is the only way.”

He put his hand to his forehead. She was stubborn as always. But never had the two of them been so irreconcilably at odds. It was an unfamiliar feeling, and he misliked it immensely. He was getting angrier by the second. The tense silence overtook the room once more, like a suffocating mist.

“Look,” he said at last, after bringing his emotions back into check. “I hear your objections, and I know they are not without merit. But none of us always get what they want. You have said your piece. The Convocation have made their ruling. I am sorry, my friend, but you have lost. You must not be so selfish now as to flee your duty when it matters the most.”

“Selfish?” she asked, agape. “I notice none of the Fourteen are offering themselves up for this.”

“Including you,” he snapped.

“That is because I think we should not sacrifice anyone. You are the ones both advocating for and excluding yourselves from it.”

“We are the ones who know the plan, and who alone have the capability to carry it out. We cannot abandon our people until everything is complete. Surely even you must recognize this.”

She sighed in frustration. “Yes, I do, but surely even you can see that you are therefore asking others to pay a price that you will never have to.”

“Price?!” he cried, outrage shaking in his voice. “Do you think I want to do this? Do you think I am not in torment over what needs to be done? But I will not shrink from my duty, even should I find it distasteful.” The pointed accusation in his last sentence was impossible to miss.

“Do not admonish me like I am an unruly child,” Azem answered him in a low, deathly-serious tone.

“Then you must cease acting like one.”

“Refusing to support an immoral plan is childish, now?”

“Of course not, but refusing to accept that others might be right and you might be wrong is. Especially when we are the only ones with a concrete plan to speak of. You would gamble the lives of our brethren on the vague hope that some other solution exists at all, and that we may find it before it is too late.”

“I would rather we all die fighting side by side for a solution, rather than simply giving up on half of us altogether.”

He paced about the room, requiring all of his willpower to not shake her and shout in her face to make her see the obvious. “Valiant words, based on nothing. This plan will work. It is our only chance.”

“So you say. But if this ‘Zodiark’ cannot actually do what is intended? Or if he becomes too powerful and too hungry?”

“That is what Elidibus will prevent. Clearly you have no faith in me, but you at least trust him, do you not?”

She would not dignify his comment about himself. “Elidibus is a sweet boy, and a wise one, and I do not doubt he intends only the best. But how can you be sure he won’t be overpowered, or irrevocably changed? Everyone, all of us, has a limit. Even him. Even you. Even the entire Convocation.” Her voice dropped to nearly a whisper as her heart broke in sorrow and anger alike. “And yet you accuse me of being the gambler.”

“In the absence of a plan, yes I do.”

She met his gaze, obscured as they both were by their masks. She could not believe he was being so hard-headed about this. Nor could he believe the same about her. They felt further from agreement than they had been even before stepping into this room.

This was getting nowhere.

“We are wasting yet more time,” she declared, and she made for the door.

“Where exactly are you going?” he demanded.

“To find a solution on my own, if need be, since the Convocation is disinclined to help.”

“Azem, stop. Be reasonable.”

She whirled on her heels and he balked at her exposed face, which was staring silvery daggers back into his eyes. “My name is Euodia.”

Emet-Selch found no reply as he watched her black mask skid across the table and spin to a stop in front of him. By the time he looked up again, she was already gone.

#FFxivWrite2022 #FFxivWrite #ffxiv #Azem #emet-selch #my writing #endwalker spoilers #shadowbringers spoilers

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silvaswiftcast · 5 months

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Fluffvember Prompt #16 Soothe

Characters: Silva Cataracta and Hien Rijin (Though Ricmorn is not in this scene, he is mentioned!)

Rating: General

Notes: This scene takes place in the later half of post-Stormblood MSQ about a month or so after Silva and Hien enter a relationship with each other, so things are still new and she's still a little shy around him with certain things. If you're curious about Silva's scars and how she got them, I've written about them a few times! You can find the links to them here: Scars and Sunshine and Second Chances! Please be mindful of the tags in them, especially the first one as it does have NSFW elements in the third chapter. Words contained in [brackets] are in another language, in this case, it's Doman.

Content Warnings/Additional Tags: Polyamory Relationship (V Relationship), M/F/M Relationship, Playful Banter/Teasing, Mild Angst (very, very mild), Disscuions of Old Wounds/Scars/Bodily Harm, Domestic Fluff.

The sudden knock on Hien’s door made him look up from the massive pile of paperwork, trade agreements, and wordy letters on his desk. Curious… A glance at the chronometer on the south wall told him it was still early afternoon — a time of day when none of his advisors usually bothered him unless needed. And while he still had one more meeting to attend, it didn’t start for another two bells.

Which meant there could only be one of a few select people waiting for him behind that door.

“Come in!” he called out, setting the document he was reading off to the side.

Hien couldn’t help the grin lighting up his face when he saw Silva open the door just enough to poke her head through.

“I was hoping it would be you,” he teased.

She let out a light laugh, shaking her head. “Now’s not a bad time, is it?” Vibrant sea-green eyes wandered to his desk, noticing the vast display of important-looking papers scattered about his desk. “I… I have a favor to ask you, but if you’re busy, I can find someone else to help me and—”

He immediately rose to his feet at the question. “It’s never a bad time for you, [wildflower.] Please come in.”

His eyes and brain could use a brief break before the words started blurring together.

Silva opened the door far enough to squeeze through before shutting it. And for added measure, locked it behind her. When she turned around again, the young lord was already halfway across the room to meet her. She closed the distance with a few quick steps. They murmured sweet “hello’s” to one another and exchanged slow, lingering kisses as they embraced.

It wasn’t until Hien ran his hand up her back that she let out a small hiss of discomfort — and reminded the Raen why she was here in the first place.

“Oh— My apologies, Silva,” Hien said, quickly removing his hand. “I didn’t know you were injured or—”

She quickly dismissed his apology, a nervous laugh bubbling from her chest. “Not an injury,” she told him, wanting to ease his concern. “At least not a new one.”

His brow furrowed as he took in her words, a little confused. “Not a new—” And then understanding dawned on him. He carefully smoothed his hand over her upper back and shoulders again, mindful of how much pressure he applied. “Your scars are bothering you today.”

It wasn’t long ago he saw them for the first time in their full glory, without clothes hiding them. (He was used to seeing them in glimpses as they peeked out from behind her gear since he’d known her.) He stumbled upon the moment by chance one late afternoon. Silva was a little hesitant about him seeing them, not that he blamed her, but was willing to let him tend to them as she and Ricmorn told him the story behind them. A story of bravery and great sacrifice for someone she loved — for someone she wanted to protect.

The tale made him admire her even more. Made him love and respect more than he ever thought possible.

Silva leaned into his touch as she nodded, sighing. The ache was still there — always would be on her bad days — but it was easier to ignore in favor of her other lover’s gentle caresses. “They are,” she answered, meeting his gaze. Clarity shimmered in his peridot eyes when she held up the small jar of soothing balm she used for them. “Ricmorn is busy elsewhere for the moment, and Miki has her hands full with her apothecary today. And there’s no way in any of the seven hells I would go to my uncle about this and—”

“I would be more than happy to tend to them again, [wildflower,]” he promised, taking the jar from her. The small gasp of surprise escaping her told him she wasn’t expecting him to offer his help with something so personal. It was his turn to put her at ease.“Whenever you need it — I’m here,” he told her, brushing his fingers along the flat edge of an ivory horn. “Always.”

“O-oh,” she whispered, wetting her lips. When Hien's expression softened, she shifted her gaze elsewhere, her long tail twitching. “I— Okay.”

His kind words did the trick.

“Come,” he murmured, pressing his lips to the small patch of ivory scales decorating the middle of her brow. The sound of her happy hum was sweet music to his ears. “Let’s get you someplace more comfortable. You’ll feel better once I rub some of the balm into your skin.”

Before Hien could pull away, he felt Silva wrap one of her arms around his neck to hold him in place. He was about to ask if something was wrong until she carefully pressed one of her horns to his cheek, gently nuzzling him. His heart melted at the affectionate gesture.

“Thank you, [my heart,]” she breathed beside his ear before turning to press a kiss to his cheek. When she pulled away from him and reached for his free hand, lacing their fingers together, he was grinning from ear to ear.

“Of course.”

#ffxiv writing #ffxiv fanfiction #ffxiv #silva writes #hien x wol #hienwol #wol x wol #hien x wol x wol #ffxiv writers #poly ship #fluffvember ffxiv things #Fluffvember FFXIV Edition

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autumnslance · 3 years

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Character meme: Thancred

Give me a character and I’ll break them down:

This got long cuz I tend to ramble about this dude.

How I feel about this character:

This utter absolute godsdamned bastard of a man. How dare he.

When I really got into FFXIV finally (after only dabbling for a bit), the age gap of his listed 32 and my RL age at the time put the same distance as me and my own younger brother, and that is where Thancred fits. I was FINE with him as a total bro, as the local disaster, similar to a younger sibling I am both fond of and exasperated by. He has a lot of backstory, character development, and changes, even before Shadowbringers really brings his various issues and working through them to the foreground. I love snarky, sarcastic characters, using that to cover their pain and issues. Highly competent but still so full of doubts. Acting out middle child of the core Scions family (now the elder brother figure with Papalymo gone and his own sense of responsibility kicking in in healthier ways).

There's a lot there, and he hits a lot of character tropes I like as a writer and reader both. So for 2 full playthroughs, he was a colleague, a companion, a pal, a bro.

Now. Now when I make a fic writing WoL based off the lady midlander CGI model, now when I decide to make an ace WoL who won't get shipped with anyone cuz we so rarely see that, now when I decide to roll Aeryn through the MSQ and got to meeting the Scions and Ifrit's quest...

Sigh. Here we are, 3+ years and counting, and "Shippy Nonsense" has completely taken over my FFXIV posting and it's all that Damn Rogue's fault. I blame his bonus to sneak attack vs a WoL's smallclothes. I know he took that feat.

He’s still my bro that I am going to tease affectionately while my character swoons, but I am going to be amusedly grumbly about it forever.

(Also I still think his ARR model is Generic Anime Protag #3547 and isn’t all that visually interesting. I like bits and pieces of the HW mountain hobo look. I think his ShB model is better at showing his experience and personality, but still wish there were some adjustments.)

All the people I ship romantically with this character

Fellow Wolcred ships. I love you all. Also it just makes “sense” to me to ship WoL with a Scion over most other NPCs, and Thancred is definitely the default nice handsome male romance option like what one gets at the beginning of a Bioware game (looking at you, Carth, Kaiden, Alistair...). I just. y’know. Thought OC/NPC shipping was for other people, not me.

I have a soft spot for occasional Y'shtola/Thancred and Urianger/Thancred. I feel like he’s a person who’d only open to true romantic relationships with people he’s known and trusted for awhile, because of his own doubts and issues.

He’s totally a Bi disaster though; a lean toward women, perhaps, but certain dudes’ll turn his head.

My non-romantic OTP for this character

Thancred & Minfilia for the found family brother-sister trope.

Thancred & Ryne for the same, with father-daughter flavor instead.

Thancred & Urianger for the best bros back and forth.

Thancred & Y'shtola for the best bros in a different way. I also include here occasional side-along headcanons for a FWB situation for them, safe comfort and release--especially after the Lifestream--but without romance; their love is platonic.

(I can’t quite see Urianger doing a casual FWB in the same way tho, he doesn’t strike me as the type; it’s all or nothing there.)

My unpopular opinion about this character

How I see the "temporary eye injury." How he likely wasn't as much of a slut as assumed--while he got plenty, he also used the flirting as a cover a lot (esp given how he drops the flirty demeanor entirely post-Antitower). How he likely wasn't as much of a drunkard in ARR patches as assumed, either; getting blackout drunk makes little sense when the issue was loss of control thanks to possession.

I also think many of the people who think it would have been “fitting” (or just wished for) him to die at the Trolley RP Duty in ShB missed some of the point of Shadowbringers’ overarching themes. ShB could certainly be dark at times, but overall was a story of hope and the differences between remembering the past versus being held captive by it, and the bonds between people. If it were a more tragic story with more pessimistic themes, then yes; Thancred dying then to protect Ryne with their issues unresolved would have been (heartbreaking but) fitting. However, that’s not the story being told; it’s him using that battle as catharsis to beat at his own issues and realize he really had repeated his original mistakes. To make his peace with Minfilia’s loss and then, in the end, work things through with Ryne and be the man he should have been for her.

Ryne gets the fairy tale ending of having her parental figure that she feared resented her tell her he was sorry and fix himself for her.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

We should have seen more of his and Minfilia’s found family relationship in game. There wasn’t a lot of room for it in 2.0, it could have been in the 2.x patches a bit more, but a lot about their relationship is described after she’s already gone.

Ran’jit was Thancred’s kill. There is no way that was originally written with the General porting out last second just for the WoL to suddenly be able to defeat his plot armor. The Trolley RP Duty has the foil character set up, the “last special bullet,” and the player is controlling Thancred at the time. It makes no narrative sense and stinks of executive meddling out of some fear the players would feel cheated by not having it be WoL who defeats Ran’jit, but it’s a serious misstep in the story. We could have, should have, fought suped-up Jongleurs as the speed bump boss to Vauthry, as those characters also were woefully underused.

I’m also hoping for more personal Scion history as we get to Old Sharlayan; while most of the older Scions are from or were educated in the Dravanian Colony, being around the culture and people again shall surely give us more information as to their academic backgrounds.

And we all always need more nutkin interactions and shenanigans.

#Final Fantasy XIV #Lyn Prompts #Thancred Waters #I love him and want to shake him for being Like That

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ffxivimagines · 4 years

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Daring Dalliances | Main Story | Rating: G | Part 1

Summary:

Wherein the Warrior of Light makes a questionable decision for the sake of homemade jalebi, Thancred attempts to be the voice of reason, and the Crystal Exarch wingmans his way into the rapidly developing hellscape that is getting them a fake fiancée.

Or, the fake-dating canon-slightly-compliant AU wherein which the Warrior of Light values dessert more than their morals.

Part One of MSQ (non-character oriented route) under cut!

Never let it be said that the Warrior of Light is not challenged. While the might of gods and mortals has grown stale over the years, the affairs of family visitation have not. If anything, they’ve become more perilous than ever, the Warrior’s found family of sorts clamoring for dinner together, a letter, for them to answer their linkpearl without sounds of battle and death ringing through the line. They would love to visit and take a day (read: week) off, but even with everything settled between the Source and its inhabitants, there is work to be done. They simply do not have the time.

“Visit us soon, my star! Valeryn has been working on that shawl you sent her the pattern for and wants to show it to you. Her skill has improved by leaps and bounds, as of late.”

“Yes, Mamá,” they agree, knee-deep in swamp water and covered very thoroughly in mud, “I will visit as soon as I am able. Could I possibly bring my f—what the hell?” The line erupts into static, crackling snatches of speech filtering through with no incoherence to be found, they wait, face scrunched up in discomfort. It isn’t like they can remove the earpiece when their hands are nearly more dirt than skin.

“—did I hear that right? A f—“

“Yes? Mamá, the transmission isn’t clear. I can’t hear you. Can I call you back once I’m back in Ul’dah?”

They wait for an answer and slog through the water all the while, searching, searching, finally. It only took them an annoyingly long time, but they’d found a good few baby morbols. Now, all that’s left is to kill off the parent and bring a couple babies back to the coliseum. They listen to the static even while aether drips from their hands and makes the water bubble as if ready to boil, the fight over in seconds and quarry acquired in less than a minute afterward.

They’re halfway back to their chocobo when the line clears again.

“Am I coming through?”

“Yes, Mamá,” they reply. “Did you hear me earlier?”

There’s the sound of excited giggling and then about three voices speaking all at once, layering over each other when they say, “Your fiancée, right?” and “Congratulations!”

“I said my friend, Mamá—“

The woman on the line laughs brightly. “No need to be shy about it now, my star. You shine so bright it was only a matter of time before someone saw it too!”

They groan, scrubbing a hand over their face and regretting it the moment mud gets in their mouth and nearly into their eyes. “It’s not like that—“

“Did you hear that, M’aaiho? They proposed!”

“Mamá! You’re misunderstanding!”

“Bring them to dinner when you visit,” Mamá invites (or, as anyone with a particularly opinionated parent would say: orders). “They need to meet the family!”

The Warrior sighs. This is a battle they will never win. “Okay,” they acquiesce, “but only dinner.”

“Not even dessert?”

“Dessert, too,” they agree, thinking of the pastries Mamá and M’aaiho made last time they visited. Those had been heavenly.

Cheers crackle loudly in their ear, but for the sake of pastries, they will prevail! For food! For the sweet taste of saffron syrup! For their stomach Eorzea!

They regret agreeing about five hours later when Thancred nails them with a look of absolute disbelief and says, “Wow, I have been surprised by you many a time, but this is… new.”

The Warrior gestures wildly, agitated to the point of breaking their usual habits of excessive nodding and stoic wall-staring, as if their frenzied hand-flapping will get the point across without words.

“So, what are you going to do about it?”

They open their mouth, close it, open it again and get out a vague squeaking noise. Whatever part of their brain that is in charge of speech has clocked out early and left them to flounder, unsure of how to verbalize the radical thought of “I need a fake fiancée who is convincing enough that they’ll be able to convince M’aaiho we’re a thing while also being someone I trust enough that them being affectionate like we’re courting won’t make me want to crawl into the Crystal Tower and die from embarrassment or discomfort.”

“Need a minute?”

They nod violently enough Thancred fears for their neck.

“Okay. Take your time. I have until—“ he glances at one of the chronometers within their inn room “—a bit past eight. Give or take a few minutes, we have an entire bell.”

They take a moment to try and calm down, bouncing their legs and cycling through ideas before coming to a seemingly flawless conclusion. “Thancred, I need you to fake date me.”

Thancred, to his benefit, does not laugh. He instead smiles genially and asks, “And you would not see my hand severed from my arm should I place it on your hip?”

The Warrior pauses, thinks, and replies, “Now that you put it that way, I need someone who isn’t as forward.”

“So that leaves… Urianger, possibly?”

“Does he even have a romantic bone in his body?”

Thancred huffs half a laugh. “You would be surprised. Antiquated speech aside, he is quite good with women.”

“Need I remind you that I am nowhere near his type,” they say, “nor particularly capable of decoding his prose.”

“His hands do a lot of talking,” he answers, as if that is not terribly misleading and otherwise incriminating evidence of their nearly-joint-parenthood of Ryne.

They raise a brow. “Do they now?”

It is only by the grace of Lyna’s intervention that Thancred is saved a well-intentioned ribbing. “The Exarch asks for your presence, Warrior.”

“And he will have it in but a moment. The Ocular, as usual?”

“Aye,” she agrees. “I will inform him forthwith.”

Thancred stands from his seat and stretches. “Back to work for both of us. Do tell if you’re departing to world yet unseen.”

They nod and stand from where they’d been half collapsed on their bed. In a shift of stance, barely even a half-second, they have gone from their civvies to adventuring gear. “Be safe, Thancred,” they say, tacking on, “and do not tell Urianger about this! I would die before the fae let me live it down!”

“Good luck with your fiancée,” he replies, striding out of the room with them close behind. They part ways at the end of the hallway and they jump straight over the railings to skip the stairs on their way to an aethernet crystal.

“The Ocular, please,” they whisper, and it is done. They flicker into existence in the room itself, the Tower directing them from the well-traveled paths right to where the Exarch needs their presence. “Evening,” they greet. “Finally looks like it, too.”

“Good evening,” he replies, smiling softly as if they could not see it. “I hope my summons did not interrupt your day off.”

They shrug. “Wasn’t much of one back on the Source, if I am completely honest.” They pause, fiddle with their hands, and ask, “Could I trouble you for your counsel?”

“Always, Warrior. What troubles you?”

“What about─”

He interrupts, sitting down on the steps by the dais and patting the floor beside him. “The matter of summons can wait. Sit and let your troubles be known. You─we have time.”

They sit down with a thump, tension visible in the way their shoulders are drawn tight despite the looseness of their facial expression. “I need a fiancée.”

“You are… to be married?”

“A fake one! Not a, um, real fiancée,” they amend, voice wavering. They stare at their pants and pick at a loose thread. “I would like to court someone, but I fear my life being what it is… you know?” They laugh hollowly, scars on their hands and callousing making something like holding hands or touching someone softly feel foreign, not for them. “I am not exactly desirable, see, and there’s nothing I can do to take away what marks I bear that would make me whole again.”

They very clearly do not just mean the many deep grooves cut into their skin. Being the savior to Eorzea, the Source, the First, to him, the Crystal Exarch knows how much it can take away from a person. However, he thinks no less of them for it. If anything, he thinks more.

“Maybe to a coward,” he replies arily. “Not like someone who knows of your boundless devotion.”

“Was that a hint of G’raha I heard there?”

The Exarch flusters. Even with his hood down and identity known, to hear his name curling off their tongue once more is too much! Spare him, oh Warrior of Light! “I... forgive me. That was likely strange of me to say─”

“It was nice,” they say, sigh turning to a smile toward the end. “Thank you, Exarch.”

He redirects the conversation shortly thereafter, seeking to avoid further embarrassment for want of a better verbal filter, and learns of the situation in full shortly thereafter. He cannot even find it in himself to be surprised when they groan and flop backward to lay fully on the crystal floor.

“I have no words.”

They gesture as is to say “and you think I do?” before groaning. “I can’t believe I let my craving for jalebi win me over.”

“It must be good, if you’d brave the waters of betrothal for it,” he comments. “Why not think of it as an adventure?”

They sit up fast enough he can hear their back crack (ouch) and place their hands on his shoulders, leaning in. He panics at their closeness for all of a second before remembering, this is the Warrior of Light. This is the person who once went seven months while being actively courted by the head of House Borel before they were spirited away to Doma, subsequently breaking the courtship off without knowing what it was. They are just affectionate and endearing and very, very close.

“I love you, G’raha Tia.”

And this is just another mode of devastation, he supposes, when they lean in a little further and hug him fiercely as if to physically shove all their emotions into him. His ears ring and he flicks them as if to get rid of the echoes of “I love you” by force and subconscious reaction.

They release him, stand, and say, “I am so sorry, but I need to go and I need to go now! I had an epiphany!”

Within a breath, they are gone and he is left alone in the Ocular. He presses hands to his cheeks and allows himself to flush. Ye gods, do they even know how many would kill for the chance to so much as play at being within their sights? Sending a desperate prayer to Hydaelyn, he hopes this will end well. Given their track record, however, he sincerely doubts it.

A moment later, he realizes that he was not informed as to what their epiphany entailed to have them in such a hurry. He fears to know the answer.

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mirroralchemist · 4 years

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Untitled FFXIV Trash pt.2

I’m back at it again with my bullshit :V

Word Count: 1834 Notes: Still set during ShB MSQ so mild spoilers. I would say it would take place a bit after part 1 but before being briefed about Rak’tika. Imma be real, I chose my tank class to be Gunbreaker 60% of Thancred being one (that coat is fucking amazing okay) and 40% because it’s heavily influenced by Squall, who’s my first FF love. This has translated to my WoL being inspired by seeing Thancred being a gunbreaker and her realizing that she is a fangirl of proper gunblades.

I totally forgot the name of the Aesthetician and didn’t want to go back and put his name in once I found it so chalk it up to Ami just not remembering long names well.

It wasn’t often that I was called to the Ocular alone. The Exarch usually calls us all as a group to plan our next step in our war against the Lightwardens. But it had been different this day. He requested an audience with just me.

I accepted, seeing as he has done nothing to warrant my suspicions.

Although, there has been that faint feeling I know him from somewhere.

Walking inside the room always brought the wave of nostalgia of my journey of the Crystal Tower. Maybe once all of this is done, I can search for any sign of G’raha.

“It’s good to see you.” the Exarch spoke.

I gave him a small smile in greeting. He seemed a bit more relaxed? Would that be the word? The wave of familiarity coming through, even envisioning a dear Miqo’te in his stead. I shook my head at the notions.

“Thank you,” I spoke in earnest, “We have an idea for our next step?”

“Yes and no. That is a discussion with the others present. I’ve wanted to speak with you privately, as I’m sure you wouldn’t want the others to know?”

“What would that b-”

“If I may be so direct, take a break. The citizens here appreciate your helping hand; from your physical prowess to your contributions to the Mean; we appreciate it all. But you are running yourself ragged, dear friend. I will not stand for any illness to fall upon you.”

I stood there frozen for a moment, taking his words in. After that fumble of a night from the past, I threw myself into helping the citizens. To work out my frustrations of my inability to clearly say what I wanted. I let out a small breath. I have an inkling how this came to the Exarch’s attention, but I will keep that to myself. Even with his cowl hiding his facial features, I can tell he was staring at me with concern.

Suddenly, I was meeting that older man the citizens always spoke in such fondness.

“Fine, but only for the rest of the day. I do not want to be the cause of hold you all back more than necessary.”

“Wonderful! Off you go then.”

A pair of hands grabbed my wrists as I was insisted to go through the gate that connects the First to the Source. I turn back to see the smirk of the Exarch as he led me to the other side. Before I could say anything I was back at the base of the Crystal Tower. I could easily go back and insist I could take a break within the First.

But that would defeat the purpose.

A quick Teleport spell and I am back within Ul’dah, the city where I began. Still as busy as it could ever be. Citizens and adventurers alike littering the streets. If I were to take a break, this would be the place. I could go visit the Pugilist guild and see how my old master was doing. Instead I made my way to the Quicksand. Another packed day it seemed. It warmed my heart to see that no matter what was going on in the realm, it would always be busy. I strolled over to the table where Momodi does her business.

A nice wave of nostalgia as she guides fresh adventurers on their paths, as she had done for me.

“Ah ha! There’s a sight for sore eyes. Just stopping by?”

I really could never hide my smiles when speaking with the Lalafell.

“You can say that. Apparently I’ve been forced to take a small break.”

“It’s always been like that for you Ami.” she admitted, “Even before the Scions scouted you. I remember when I had to tell you to take a break.”

I waved it off as a drink was set in front of me. I nodded in thanks before drinking it. She was right, as usual. I was grateful that she hadn’t asked about how they were doing. It would take a lot to explain, which I’m not sure if I am ready to dive into. Thinking about them brought me right back to the source of my current actions. I finish the drink in one gulp, thankfully non-alcoholic, before a small hand settles over mines. Momodi looking at me with that selfsame concern the others have been giving me.

“Shall I get an inn room ready for you?”

“...yeah. Oh and I think I’ll have the aesthetician make a visit today so just send him up when he arrives.”

“Of course, have a good sleep.”

By the time I reached to my room, everything was ready. It had been so long since I stayed at an Ul’dah inn. I took off some of my gear, feeling lighter now that some of leathers were off me. There was nothing to but to wait for the Aesthetician to arrive so I sat at the desk, going through my journals I kept of my adventures. Just to remember how far I’ve come from leaving that carrier and setting foot onto this land. How far I still have to go on this path. The gentle ringing of the bell stopped my reading for the moment. Going over to the door, seeing that the Aesthetician had arrived.

“It has been a while, ready to become a beauty reborn?”

I gave a small nod in agreement.

We quickly set up the room so he could get started. The tsk’s he made while brushing through my hair made it pretty obvious he wasn’t pleased about my maintenance for it.

“These poor strands. Some of it looks ready to break if not tangled. You must be careful, my dear. You have to let your partners know that pulling too hard is not sensual at all.”

“It’s not like that at all!” I whined, “I haven’t even had the opportunity to explore those parts.”

He chuckled as my skin starts turning pink from the insinuation. I touched a worked on section of my hair. I wasn’t sure what it was that appealed my more Hyuran enemies to yank on my hair.

No not enemies, just one.

The sensation of being pulled towards the armored foe. Watching with the last bit of consciousness as they raise their katana high, aiming for that fatal blow. The murderous intent reflected in their eyes as they wish for your death to plunge Eoreza into eternal chaos.

I shook my head from the memories. Taking deep breaths to calm my racing heart at the brush with my almost death. If it hadn’t been for the timely intervention of an aloof friend. A pat on the shoulder takes me out of my thoughts.

“ ‘Tis only a jest. Despite that, it has grown quite a bit.”

He handed me a small mirror. Surprising that when completely brushed out my hair has now grown to a bit past my shoulders with soft curls at the ends. It was a moment to take in, seeing this new side of myself. I looked as if I had celebrated twenty-eight namedays.

“We could cut it short, to prevent that from happening too often?” he suggested.

I look at myself in the mirror again.

“No, it’s fine the way it is. Perhaps we can have it look more cleaned up?”

His colored lips spread into a knowing smile.

“Of course dear. Still have yet to catch His eye huh?”

“It’s not like that at all. Gods, everyone seems to think that.”

Was it really that obvious?

I let him do his work in silence. It’s calming to have someone take care of you. No having to finger comb or wash it in hard water for a change.

“You’re well traveled, given your clients. Heard any good jobs lately?” I asked.

“Hmm, now that you mention it. The God’s Quiver have been looking for adventurers to help curb an increase of ambushes happening in the Shroud. There done!”

I stood up from the chair and took a look at the larger mirror within the inn room. It’s hard to believe that I was looking back at myself. My hair was trimmed just enough so the soft curls wouldn’t be confused with frizz. Even the straight fringe I normally wore cut to a side part which framed my face well.

I was...pretty.

“To your liking?”

“Yes of course, thank you!”

An exchange of Gil and a flourish farewell, I was left alone again.

I did say I was going to take a break today.

But that didn’t necessarily mean I had to do nothing.

* * *

At the Aetheryte plaza in Gridania, I could easily tell of the God’s Quiver member who needed help. Based on how frantic they looked, they really needed the help. It didn’t take long to reach the Bramble Patch, where most of these bandit attacks were occurring. Even less time to dispatch the bandits there were going after a traveling pair, dressed peculiar for this side of the realm.

I wiped the sweat off my brow as I put away my Cesti.

Glancing over at the pair, I see they didn’t look bad off. Other than the Rons-wait it’s Hrothgar in Eorzea, recovering from his moment of collapse, he and his Viera companion seemed fine. I walked over to them seeing what other assistance I could offer. I still had time before I was due back to the First after all. I paused once I got closer, seeing the cloth on the Hrothgar.

It wasn’t a pristine white coat, but it was definitely the same design.

I talked to the pair, Radovan and Sophie, learning of how they came to Gridania. The more I listened, the more I realized that there would have been no chance that he would have learned how to use a Gunblade from these two. I would have definitely heard about Sophie if that was the case. At any rate, seeing how I fought off those bandits sparked inspiration to Radovan.

He wanted to teach me the ways of a Gunbreaker.

I hesitated. Not that I didn’t want to learn. Quite the opposite in fact. From the first time I had seen Thancred sweep in and save us in Lakeland, I had become interested in the gunblade. Never enough to turn me away from my path as a Monk. From the first punch I landed, that path was destined for me.

But, it never hurts to have more skills under my belt.

Just, it’s mighty embarrassing to ask the man you’ve been enamored with to teach you said ways.

Suddenly, in a moment of complete clarity, something clicked. The way I could do more to protect the others, to protect the one I secretly cherish above all else. Even if they would never realize it. I assume Radovan saw the look in my eyes as well, for he pressed the handle of the gunblade deeper into my hands. A knowing smile of finding my reason.

I curled my fingers around the grip.

#writing things #shit writing #fanfiction #fanfic #ffxiv #ff14 #final fantasy XIV #final fantasy 14 #fan fiction #fan fic #I totally worked on GNB and did a hairstyle change after ShB MSQs #but hey whatever gives me an excuse to do the important hairstyle change trope #Age is a very funny thing to figure in this game #I figured that my WoL would start at like 22-23 and roughly each expansion takes a year/year and a half #At any rate she would probably be roughly the same age at Urianger

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dhawkesnest · 5 years

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Prompt # 23: Parched

Warning: Shadowbringers Spoilers!! Do not read if you haven't finished the MSQ!! Follow up of Prompt # 12!! Features my character Celene as the WoL for the purposes of this AU (I do not rp her as WoL). Also, what can I say, I like writing kiss scenes.

---

Celene wasn't expecting to see the familiar robed form standing in the middle of her room in the Pendants when she finally managed to evade Nadine and sneak away. She had just leaned back against the door, sighing in relief upon listening to the click as she locked herself in what she thought was a safe place, when she heard a well-known voice and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. Oh no... So soon after the embarrassment in the Crystarium, she wasn't up to facing him and explaining the reason she had completely humiliated him in front of everyone. However, she knew how bad it would have looked had she whirled and run again, and where could she truly hide. All he had to do was look within that crystal mirror he kept and he would have found her. Nowhere in Norvrandt was safe. Swallowing her pride, she looked at him and tried to offer him a smile in greeting, though she was sure it looked a little pinched. The only thing that might have soothed her nerves was his posture, for he seemed perfectly at ease, his staff leaning against the wall nearby. “Ex... G'raha... hi... I wasn't expecting to find you here. Usually you summon me to the Ocular. Is something the matter?” She could detect the strain in her voice, and could only pray that he couldn't do the same. Turning to face her, he smiled softly and shook his head. His right ear twitched perceptibly and she had to stifle an internal groan as he tilted his head at her. “Oh no. I merely wanted a moment of your time.” “Ah...” The sound came out like a croak. “There were still some things that went unresolved and brushed aside when we returned from the Tempest that I think needs be addressed.” “If it's another apology, G'raha, then there's no ne-” Once more, he shook his head, clasping his hands in front of him. “It actually concerns my outpouring in Kholusia.” Celene's stomach tightened with dread. Did he mean to rescind what he had said? Had she misunderstood him? They both stood in awkward silence for a moment, and then Celene had to force herself to draw a breath, reminding herself not to overreact. Let him say what's on his mind, there's plenty of time to freak out later. Clearing his throat, he dropped his gaze for a moment as if thinking on something before coming to a decision. “It also concerns a certain young woman that was yelling my given name about the Crystalline Mean earlier this afternoon. I wished to discuss that as well.” Her reaction was almost involuntary as she ran the flat of her hand down her face and groaned audibly in embarrassment, her cheeks heating. She couldn't be surprised. He had been there, she knew this was coming, and yet she'd hoped against hope that it wouldn't. “I'm sorry. She pressured me and your name was just the first one that came to mind. I had no idea she intended to shout it from the rafters and I am so sorry for what it might have done to your reputation or-” “So it was a mistake then?” “I didn't intend to make things embarrassing for you, no. I mere-” The expression on his face shifted momentarily, so subtle that it was almost imperceptible. Once more, he cleared his throat, and she could have sworn she saw him swallow hard. “Well then, since that is cleared up, I suppose it is back to work for me.”

Celene's mouth dropped open. That was it? Something about this couldn't be right. That imperceptible change in him stuck out to her and a niggling feeling settled into the pit of her stomach. She felt as if she had done something wrong, but there was no reason for her to have felt that way. Nodding a greeting, G'raha moved to pass her for the door, reaching to pull his hood up and retrieve his staff as he went. Stop him. Don't let him go, her internal voice cried at her. Impulse took over and brought about the movement. She reached out to grip his forearm as he passed, the reflex startling him into whirling enough to look at her, either to discern what she wanted or to object to the contact, she didn't know. The woman didn't give him a chance to do either. Her free hand reached to cup his chin and lift it to align his gaze with hers, taking in his expression, his red eyes wide with surprise and something else.

Hurt. I hurt him. Something I said hurt him. “C-celene?” He stammered. She let her grey-green gaze take in every feature, her thumb tracing the crystal on his cheek. The action caused a blush to rise in his cheeks. Her thoughts went momentarily to his words in Kholusia, then again at the top of Mt. Gulg. Deep down she knew those words had been meant for her, at the same time she had known the man leaning against the rock was the one she had watched the doors close on all those years ago. She had cared about him then, and she cared even more deeply about him now. Is it possible he thinks...? We're both idiots, she realized, a soft smile breaking out across her face as she chuckled quietly at their foolishness. “Friend, are you quite well?” There was a tremor in his voice as he looked up at her, his face still clasped gently in her palm, his eyes echoing a mix of pain, confusion, and embarrassment. Hell with it. I'm tired of dancing around this issue. Celene dipped her head low and brushed her lips against his faintly. She heard the sound of his staff clattering to the floor, caught the barest hint of a sound dying in his throat, and then his hands were in her hair. He pulled her close, his mouth meeting hers for a second time but deeper, his lips exploring hers. The action was sweet, intense; full of longing that had been more than decades denied. They clung to one another as they became engulfed with the same need, like two flowers in the desert desperate for rain. After a moment, he broke the kiss to gasp for breath, and she rested her forehead against his own. “How long have you-” He asked between breaths. “Since before the doors shut.” He exhaled sharply at that, the truth flooring him as he pulled back enough to look up at her, hands reaching to cup her face. “I didn't know, Celene, I-” “We're both idiots.” She murmured, nuzzling his palms, enjoying the warmth of one and the cool of the other upon her skin. “I knew you meant me when we spoke in Kholusia, but I said nothing when we got back. I let you think...” G'raha shook his head, wrapping his arms about her waist tightly. Celene returned the action, winding hers about his shoulders, marveling in how small he was. “Might we stay like this for a spell?” He asked, burying his face against her collarbone. There would be no objection from her. It had been so long since she had held anyone, let alone let anyone hold her. “I may need more kisses.” She murmured into his hair, one hand reaching to scratch him lovingly behind the ear. The Exarch's shoulders shook with a soft chuckle. “Aren't we thirsty?” He muttered back cheekily, then barely choked back a sound that was part whimper and part purr at the tender gesture he had become unaccustomed to. “Oh, you're one to talk.” She gave him a playful shove but then immediately pulled him back for a kiss, letting her lips linger for a moment before breaking it and holding him close once more. Neither of them knew what the future would hold. Celene had reminded him of this when they had rested in Kholusia before the battle against Vauthry. At some point, one of them could die. It was the same as it always was. She was the Warrior of Light, thrust into danger. In the past, she had held those who loved her at arms length to protect them, but now she knew she couldn't anymore. Many regrets had lead her to realize during their conversation on the cliffs that she couldn't push those she cared about away anymore, and she had told him he shouldn't either. Should fate see fit to take him from me again... He seemed to know her thoughts, and spoke quietly as he nuzzled her again. “What are we to do now that the dynamic between us has changed?” The only response she could think to give were the words she had told him before. Words that carried the weight of those regrets she had made in the past, the pain of words left unsaid and paths left untraveled. “Cherish the time we have.” (( @sea-wolf-coast-to-coast ))

#ffxivwrite2019 #ffxiv

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starcunning · 5 years

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Notes to Selves

... and sometimes, after you pull teeth for a week, you get something, anyway.

Shasi has never spent the night before a battle with someone she loved. Until now.

This story contains MSQ spoilers for FFXIV Patch 4.4, “Prelude in Violet,” and 4.5, “Requiem for Heroes.”

12th Sun of Nophica’s Moon

Windsday.

You will not write anything today because you would rather forget all that has transpired. You want to forget the sight of him crumpling to the floor, a greater agony than that which passed before. Committing it to paper would make it real, and you cannot allow that now.

I am here, real as everything you reject. I will remember for you, to spare you the pain of forgetting later. —F

14th Sun of Nophica’s Moon

Lightningday.

You never got out of bed yesterday. Today you roused yourself only to meet with the Seedseer. She cannot feel his soul. I write this for you not because I think you will forget, but because you cannot bear to write it for yourself.

We were doing so well. —F

15th Sun of Nophica’s Moon

Lightsday.

En route to Revenant’s Toll to seek Augurelt’s counsel. A reliable source before; occasionally a comfort. Questions to consider:

- What news of the First?

- Thancred’s previous exposure to Ascian influence a factor?

- Why not Lyse?

Slender hope of answers. World ever turns on such slender hopes.

17th Sun of Nophica’s Moon

Darksday. Full moon.

Arrived at Rising Stones late yesterday. Early start to the morning in hopes situation would be swiftly resolved. Augurelt joined us just before noon. Another vision; situation compounded. Rhul and Augurelt now added to the list of incapacitated. Thancred to be transferred from Ala Mhigo to Mor Dhona.

18th Sun of Nophica’s Moon

Firesday.

May as well keep them all in one place.

Shpoki left the Rising Stones yesterday, and you let her. We know that move, don’t we? Break and run before anyone sees we’re upset? Today we wrote a letter to Matoya. We wrote three letters. You didn’t like any of them enough to send. We’ll try again tomorrow. —F

22nd Sun of Nophica’s Moon

Lightningday.

Sent letters to Master Matoya; Y’mhitra Rhul; the Forum of Sharlayan. No kin to contact for Augurelt or Waters. Overtures are being made to the Alchemists’ Guild and Prioress Dewla. Heard an interesting rumor about the fate of Heartstrike recently. Considering purchasing information from the Dutiful Sisters. Scions’ coffers empty. Personal funds in good shape.

24th Sun of Nophica’s Moon

Darksday.

Arya is talking about going looking for X’rhun. You think she hopes this is something he can solve, like the problem of the Nightkin. You hadn’t considered that, but thinking about it made you recall your dealings with Ishgardian orthodoxy in that pursuit.

Haldrath never decayed either, did he? —F

31st Sun of Nophica’s Moon

Darksday.

You took your bracelet off for a week, locked the stone it held in a drawer, tried not to think of me. You are telling yourself it is about the journals. It isn’t, is it? You are angry I have no answers for you. I wish I did.

You thought of me in my exile, and wondered if you had killed me. That isn’t how it works, is it? I cannot live without you, but my death is temporary. And some shade of me lingers with you still. You can still hear me scream inside your skull even when you cast me into the dark and curse my name for not doing enough.

Nobody hears you screaming. —F

1st Sun of Althyk’s Moon

Firesday. New Moon.

Arya departed yesterday. Alisaie thusly deprived of closest companionship. Fond of her as I am, our closeness is not without difficulty in these circumstances.

2nd Sun of Althyk’s Moon

Earthsday.

Which is worse: not to know what has become of someone you love, or to be certain of their ill fate?

5th Sun of Althyk’s Moon

Iceday.

Traveled to Ul’dah to meet with Prioress Dewla. Nothing. Returned home to the Goblet. Should be in Mor Dhona. Letter awaited me at the house from the Sisters, who have heard of no artifact with such effects as was described.

6th Sun of Althyk’s Moon

Lightningday.

When you wake screaming in the night, it is only us you awaken. You tell yourself this is preferable.

Alisaie reminds me of Rielle. —F

7th Sun of Althyk’s Moon

Lightsday.

Meeting today with Captain Firebird. She is already apprised of the news. Thancred counted her a personal friend. I do not know what aid she can offer, but determined to explore all avenues.

10th Sun of Althyk’s Moon

Earthsday.

Departed Ul’dah for Ala Mhigo. While in Ul’dah was elevated to Flame Captain. Poor consolation prize. Firebird is alright; sympathetic ear. Am come to collect the research notes of Aulus mal Asina.

12th Sun of Althyk’s Moon

Windsday.

Yesterday you sat in Thancred’s apartment trying to make sense of the Medicus’s notes. At sunset you went into the city, and stood there in the place where he ripped your soul from your body, and tried to recall how it was you put yourself back together.

It didn’t hurt half so much when he did it. You walked from his laboratory to the room where the Alliance all met, and you thought about being torn apart, self from self. You thought about the voice and the words and the fear and the pain.

The fear and the pain that were Thancred’s last moments in this world before he was severed from himself. You would have given anything to spare him that. Would that I could have told you how. Would that I could tell you anything now.

You would trade your place with any of them. That is your nature. The thing you are afraid to admit to yourself is that you would trade me for them, too. You are angry with me. You are right to be angry. I am here. —F

13th Sun of Althyk’s Moon

Iceday.

You went to the Menagerie today. Why did you go there? This is a rhetorical question. It hurt you to stand there, in the wan winter sun, and listen to the wind blow through bare trees. Every step you took on cobbles you once stained with blood drove knives into your heart. You are suffering, so you sought out suffering.

You stood in the dry grass, and reached for your linkpearl, thinking: if you call Urianger, he’ll help you figure this out. Urianger has always helped you figure it out.

Thancred’s loss you never forget. It is a black moon that eclipses the terrible light of the others’ stillness and silence. You hated yourself then for forgetting. It was a moment’s lapse, and you will bear the guilt for a long, long time.

Instants become eons. —F

14th Sun of Althyk’s Moon

Lightningday.

The others are come to Ala Mhigo, though they have little to report. Shpoki tells me Y’mhitra has arrived; has enlisted the aid of the Sons of Saint Coinach to research her sister’s condition and that of the others. Sophronia mentioned that she and Alisaie get along; there is a small relief in that. One worries.

Spent the early evening in a game of Sink—one of Shpoki’s devising, last played on the banks of the Thaliak. Alone then too, or at least without him. Sank any number of things, though not my troubles. Figure emerged from the Lochs thereafter; four of us were sufficient to subdue it. Proof remitted to Clan Centurio.

Depart Ala Mhigo tomorrow in the company of Lensha Hathaar, who has been aiding Garlond Ironworks in some project.

19th Sun of Althyk’s Moon

Watersday.

Ironworks has experienced a similar thinning of ranks; tol Scaeva incapacitated in the course of this project, along with engineers Biggs and Wedge. Conscious, however; unlikely to have succumbed to the same pernicious influence as felled the Scions.

Garlond thinks of Bojza often. Reviews the data in anticipation of some new project. Scaeva takes ill to bed-rest. Keeps offering to replace my sword with one more befitting “an adventurer of my caliber.”

Not sure whether he intends to replace Fray’s blade or Zenos’s. In either case, uninterested.

25th Sun of Althyk’s Moon

Firesday.

Who is Lensha Hathaar? Claims to have been a longtime member of the Scions; Shpoki claims to have found her at her apartment. Assuming she means the one abutting the Hanging Cat. Skeptical of any recruit we find in a bar; nevertheless shows promise.

Starlight Celebration ongoing. Some mail finds me in Gyr Abania—cards; wellwishes; etc. Wish it did not.

31st Sun of Althyk’s Moon

Lightsday.

Last day of Starlight. Glad when it’s over.

I didn’t get you anything.

1st Sun of Halone’s Moon

Firesday. New moon.

I didn’t get you anything either. —F

6th Sun of Halone’s Moon

Lightningday.

Brief recess from duties with Hathaar in Gyr Abania. Returned to Ul’dah to fulfill charitable obligation. Raising funds for the arts in Ul’dah. Bought a foolish number of candles. Sophronia materialized halfway through the evening; followed me home.

Seems to think all this pain is worthwhile for having gotten to learn the taste of chocolate. I do not think he understands.

7th Sun of Halone’s Moon

Lightsday.

How can he? He has lived this life for a handful of months at most. You have carried this for six years. You are certain there is no one yet he loves, but how can you be sure? He is fond of you, or are you pretending to ignore that? —F

12th Sun of Halone’s Moon

Windsday.

It does not matter who is fond of me. To seek comfort without Thancred’s knowledge is betrayal unforgivable, and unworthy of us both.

Returned to Gyr Abania. Midgardsormr seemed familiar with Hathaar. No answers to be found, for the elder dragon now slumbers. Not the same sickness as plagued the Scions. Nevertheless, our allies fall away, one by one.

14th Sun of Halone’s Moon

Lightningday.

But our obligations persist. Received call from Tataru that I am needed at Reisen Temple. The Firebird elected to accompany me. Her interest in Suzaku is personal, given the imagery of her epithet. As she is afflicted with the same blessings as I, this shall be allowed.

It is the smallest repayment of her kindness to me as host whilst in Ul’dah.

16th Sun of Halone’s Moon

Darksday.

You and the Firebird went to the temple yesterday to quell the Aramitama of the auspice Suzaku. A fair number of words new to my travels with you there. Nevertheless, the concepts are familiar: a Darkside untempered ever threatens to destroy.

Hers was not the rage of Byakko but an untempered grief. One thinks of these things as a dark ocean, a vast plain of ink, but a single drop breaks the surface and bestirs a tempest. So too with the firebird—your presence was a potent reminder of all she had lost.

As hers was to you.

Her lover perished in the fires of self-sacrifice. It is an end I can see for you all too easily. You would mourn your dead for centuries, I think, were you allowed the opportunity. For all that I have come to carry your burdens, you have not put aside the pain of loss wholly.

Not that I think you ever will. Or should, for that matter. It was no exaggeration when I told you that there was never another like you, nor shall there be. Part of that is your reserve of aether—what another might call determination, or force of soul. Part of that is the scope of your suffering.

It is a hard thing to celebrate, so I will not ask you to. —F

18th Sun of Halone’s Moon

Earthsday.

Dinner last night with van Hydrus’s widow. Did not expect Garlemald to have any knowledge of like situations, and indeed they did not. Hope her discretion is trustworthy, else fear the consequences of letting an Imperial citizen know of the Scions’ compromised strength.

19th Sun of Halone’s Moon

Watersday

Krile is returned to Kugane from the expedition; seems of hearty disposition. She has not heard the voice nor felt the call—curious oversight. Wondering about Alphinaud. No word from him since investigating the Burn several months ago.

21st Sun of Halone’s Moon

Iceheart. Returned with Krile to Mor Dhona. Firebird is resuming her regular duties. Alisaie and Krile agreed it past time we called upon Master Matoya. Rising early tomorrow to depart.

22nd Sun of Halone’s Moon

Lightningday.

All lives severed. No trail to follow. Felt the call again; Krile too. Word comes from Ala Mhigo that Populares defectors have arrived there.

23rd Sun of Halone’s Moon

Lightsday.

The palace, again; the same room. Maxima quo Priscus waiting. Took his leave of Alphinaud months ago, brought defectors and news. Imperials using Black Rose again. Thought that weapon lost.

No weapon against us is ever lost.

24th Sun of Halone’s Moon

Darksday. Back to Doma and Lord Hien, bringing word of Imperial invasion. Problem of Doman security remains. Ironworks offers a solution in the form of energy barrier like unto that which secluded Azys Lla.

One thinks of Ysayle’s sacrifice, and of the late van Hydrus. One thinks of Bojza and the barrier Garlond birthed from his father’s data.

When all is in readiness we go to the Burn.

28th Sun of Halone’s Moon

Windsday.

Gaius van Baelsar lives. Alphinaud sleeps.

4th Sun of Menphina’s Moon

Watersday.

Arya called you when you returned from the poor aether of the Burn, and you spoke to X’rhun. You told him to come to Ala Mhigo if he meant to fight for it, for this may be his last opportunity. You have thought much and not at all of what Gaius Baelsar told you upon those white sands.

He claims to have destroyed the stores and the production facilities for Black Rose, and told you it was Zenos yae Galvus who signed the order for its making. We know the truth, don’t we? Your enemy wears your lover’s face. Again.

Your pain is so close to the surface. You think they can look at you and see me behind your eyes. What would they see if I were not here to be you when you cannot?

Something’s up with Hathaar and Baelsar, by the way. —F

6th Sun of Menphina’s Moon

Lightningsday.

Porta Praetoria. We march northeast with Lord Hien and what few Domans could make the aetherial journey. There is a warcamp. We are outmatched. The plan is this: parley and stall for time and reinforcements.

8th Sun of Menphina’s Moon

Darksday.

“Sun” bears no meaning here, as no light reaches this place. You have felt the thinness of aether in the world everywhere you have walked. It reminds you of Carteneau. Everything about this reminds you of Carteneau: the massing Imperials, the oppressive weight of the sky overhead.

You think of your mother and how she died on that plain. How your whole world was destroyed not just in the Calamity, but in its legacy.

The others are arriving at camp, slowly. Sophronia came with Lyse Hext; Shpoki and Hathaar have been with you all along. The Tumet lad came, too. Such a bright face in this terrible darkness; you think you will not forgive yourself for bringing him here.

Alisaie is glad to be reunited with Arya and X’rhun. You feel a pang of envy at that, don’t you? You refuse to put a name to it—you whose mother is dead and whose father is not your father.

You’ll figure it out sooner or later.

Speaking of fathers, it’s Zenos’s who will sit across the table from you. Your request for parley has been granted, two days hence. Tomorrow you and Shpoki will go and prepare the site.

10th Sun of Menphina’s Moon

Earthsday.

Surprises at the table.

Not how poorly it went—you were ready for that, eager for that, even if you left your sword behind so you could pretend you weren’t. You brought an Imperial defector into that room with you—and Sophronia’s not the only one of your companions with a grudge.

Nor were you surprised by all his arguments. You’d had them with Zenos before, after all. And some of them with van Hydrus, and with his wife. Baelsar might have told you a few more useful things before you had to hear them from His Radiance’s smirking lips, but so it goes.

They should have known better than to bring a Weapon of Light to a peace summit. How else could it end but with the opening of old wounds?

(Well—in lungfuls of seawater, or crystals detonating in a burst of unstable aether, or a simple punch or two.)

All of these sufficed to see you held at gunpoint—you and Hathaar both with barrels against your chin. But. “Don’t waste the ammunition.” That was the Imperial decree, was it not? You think he wants you dead. If he wanted you dead, wouldn’t he have killed you in the tent? Why didn’t you die there?

What a curious question. Still, you do not think your reprieve will last long. And yet it will last longer than you think.

It would last longer still if you’d take my offer. It’s not too late to go, to find a place that does not know X’shasi Kilntreader and wants nothing from her. That does not demand she rise in the morning and join the front lines against an army greater and more powerful than the one that marches behind her.

We’re so alike, Shasi Souleater, in ways you haven’t allowed yourself to see just yet. But you won’t run. I know you.

And when His Radiance offered you a place—at his side; under his heel—you said no.

The world turns on that slender hope. —F

#ff14 #x'shasi #fray myste #original content #starcunning writes #ff14 spoilers #stormblood spoilers #4.4 spoilers #4.5 spoilers #not really FSF because i'm not sure who this would be fanservice for #it's kind of experimental and weird #the other two versions of the 'night before battle' scene were not gelling at all and weren't really that different from each other #this doesn't really convey everything i wanted it to but it gets some things across #shasi only functions when she has a task #and she finds strange ways to hurt herself when she's already in pain #and this is like the GOOD timeline #the THERAPY SWORD timeline #imagine if she didn't have fray

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fulcrum-agent · 6 years

Note

8: What is one mistake you've made while roleplaying?

This is super personal, so it’s going under a cut.

Since towards the end of SWG’s original height, near the time City of Heroes launched, but before EQ2 landed, the person I was dating and living with brought up the idea of having our characters in different MMOs become couples.

It wasn’t all that much of a mistake, initially. Even though he and I parted ways, it didn’t have many immediate effects.

By GW2 and SW: TOR, I got into a fairly long term (10 years) relationship again with my first fiancee. Initially, we were in different states, so we made our TOR characters a couple - our group did about 2 years of pre-game RP - though that didn’t happen in GW2 because I nope out on Asura in that manner unless I’m playing an Asura.

And that’s where things became a long, spiralling mistake. Through several games, up till the relaunch of XIV, our main characters were always romantically involved.

Fast forward a bit to December 2013. I met someone in XIV who ended up becoming my main’s oathsworn (she’s not one for marriage, at all). He lived here in the same state as I do, just two hours away, so the fiancee and I went to meet him; sometime within that month, he became part of the Household, and we started dating OOC. My fiancee liked him well enough, but always was a touch wary of him; I wasn’t sure why till after a car wreck in November 2016.

He showed us an image of himself as a teenager/young 20 year old, and he looked uncannily like the person who high-level gaslighted me as a young teen (which is another story for another time). That was only rather reinforced during the next election primaries, as my CPTSD was shot from the car wreck, and I had a night terror that was almost entirely realistic (pro tip - if you get night terrors never use sleep masks because instead of the shadowy shapes you see in normal night terrors, it reverts to REM level image creation).

The night terror was that someone had come into my room, then got into the bed, and was forcibly turning me towards them, then trying to pull me to them in a very possessive, domineering manner. The face was obscured because there was bright light in the room behind him (as it I was apparently aware it was midday), but it was impossible to tell if it was the person who gaslighted me (one of the politicians here has a name from that mess, I don’t deal well with political season here) and the guy I met in XIV.

He was very good at manipulation, he was very mentally abusive. After my fiancee moved back home for a job in September 2014, this guy only got worse with the abuse. Although I had been gaslighted as a teen, the textbook type of gaslighting is a tad unfamiliar to me; after you have someone nearly hardwire your reality into something that almost belongs in a novel, it’s actually pretty fucking hard to recognise lesser abuse.

This person was also exceptionally controlling, telling me how to run my FC even after he’d stopped being an officer. Telling me how to write stories for the FC RPs, and getting super passive-aggressive if I didn’t agree to it, rather than trying to hash out better ideas together. He also was so insecure - coupled with his controlling nature, mind you - that he basically forced every single one of my character into some sort of relationship RP, and threw fits if it seemed like the few who weren’t attached got into relationship RP; after any one of them seemed to be getting romantically involved with someone, he rather pushed one of his characters into romancing that character, until I’d relent to it.

Initially, I wasn’t so bothered by it, I’d RP’d relationships with people I’d dated before at that point, and the time spent with my fiancee before this all happened had started conditioning me into it. It was after the first time this person demanded I stopped RP’ing with someone that things started to bother me.

Unfortunately, with this person, it all became conditioned into me. I tried several times to untangle my characters after we started having massive fights - which he never got into a fight with me unless we were alone, another massive manipulator/gaslighting trick - because at that point, he wasn’t playing XIV much, and because of the car wreck in 2016, he’d moved into the other room because I literally could not be touched without massive pain (well, more than usual, fuck you fibromyalgia). I wanted to be able to continue growth with my characters, especially my main character, but any progress I made lead to him having a fit over it, and another fight.

He also always insisted things weren’t as bad as they seemed. He used a borderline personality disorder trait, splitting, against me; he’d claim he hadn’t done anything terrible, and that I was just splitting - however, largely, I learned to handle my issues with splitting in the early 2000s, after I learned I had BPD, though admittedly, his shite made it very difficult not to have splitting occur more frequently.

Eventually, someone very dear to me was on Discord with me while I was laid up from a surgery. The kindness and caring that person was showing me had been waking me up to what was going on. The day this occurred, there had been a horrible fight before the guy left for work, cus I could literally not do anything, and had an issue with the bedding, and he flipped out about absolutely having to stay home and fix it when I could have just waited by going to sleep in a lazy-boy downstairs - which I had told him, but he made the almost executive decision to deal with it himself.

After my fiancee, our future houseboy, and this person saw what I wrote out to describe it, I managed to explain what happened to my mum, and when this guy got home that day, she told him he had to move out.

The freak out he had over that was amazing. He came upstairs, heard me laughing with the dearheart who was trying to help me get back to being at least mentally/emotionally functional, and just demanded I get off the call. He refused to accept the 24 hour rule, or that I actually did not feel up to it. I was so freaked out, that I didn’t disconnect the Discord call properly, I just pulled the headset out.

Little did myself and that dearheart know, at the time, but that flips Discord into speakerphone; he muted his mic, and listened to the whole incident. This guy yelled at me, demeaned me, and bullied me into a grand maul panic attack in which I lost the ability to speak, and even move. And instead of backing off, he threatened to get my panic medication and force the conversation to continue. I can’t even remember what caused him to back off from it, but he did. Plugged the headset back in, and found out that it never disconnected, and everything was finally heard.

That single thing snapped the last chain keeping me from ending things with that person. It took him a couple of months to move out, and he was still very aggressive frequently; I had to go to Philly for an appointment, and he was being so aggressive about spending the day there even though I had planned to spend time with the person who overheard the fight via Discord, the nurse took me back to the room, and immediately asked me about domestic violence (and that was really the first time I had a good cry about it - the appointment ended up being 2 hours, because their DVU came to talk to me).

I didn’t often take it laying down. I basically became a tiger that got cornered - I would unsheathe the claws, and lash out, in an attempt to get him to back away from me, frequently. Towards the end, I was having to do so several times a week. But it was either fight back, or be totally undone. Literally, the only thing that ever worked to stop him was psychological warfare.

However, even after all that, I discovered that what he did with XIV (in particular) had left some pretty lasting ramifications.

The first of which is that I discovered that it had literally become hardwired into my brain that the game is experienced with your significant other. I get extreme anxiety about things when someone I’m with has their characters romantically involved with others - which the fact that it’s a thing pisses me off greatly. For a time, I also had issues bothering with the MSQ, because that was something that was done with the ex for basically four years; that’s gotten significantly better, as I’ve done the past two patches without someone going through them with me.

The weirdness about character relationships isn’t going away though, even when the other person is only doing it 100% IC. I’m trying to break out of that mindset, but it’s fucking difficult as hell.

I also now get massive anxiety when a stranger starts any sort of flirty or romantic RP towards my characters. Even people I’ve known a few months trigger that anxiety. Because I don’t want them to do what the ex did again, now that I’ve figured out the lasting repercussions.

So, after all that, I feel like ever getting involved with relationship RP with someone I was dating was a huge mistake.

Thanks for the ask, @vianne-solainteau - sorry it was so ah…heavy.

#personal #rant-like #try not to think about this whole thing much #thank gods for the boy that helped me realise wtf was going on #vianne-solainteau #prompt answers

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