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leejafythe · 2 years

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Find Me in the Shadows

FFXIV Write 2022 Entry Prompt: Fuse Word Count: 1912 CW: Near-death experience, mention of injuries AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42499767

I can’t keep going. I don’t have the energy to fight anymore. I just want this to be over. “Leeja” Thancred’s voice was soft as he pulled her from her thoughts “a gil for your thoughts?” She gave him a small, tired smile and shook her head.

“Just tired is all” her chest ached from the amount of walking she had done and breathing was uncomfortable.

“Sit down, darling. Slow, deep breaths” he helped her to the ground and knelt next to her and counted her breaths. “There you go. How are you feeling?”

“Cold. Nothing I do warms me up” Leeja wheezed slightly as she spoke, struggling to catch her breath. Thancred removed his gunblade and took off his coat to wrap around her carefully.

“It’s enough for now. We can move when you’re ready.” I’ll never be ready.

Y’shtola kept her distance, struggling to look at the miqo’te. It stung, Leeja wouldn’t hide her sadness for that. “Ryne, how is the Light doing?”

“‘S under control, Shtola” Leeja murmured before coughing hard, covering her hand in pure white bile as she gasped for air softly. Thancred handed her the flask of water and cleaned her hand as the others stood in pure silence, unable to watch.

“Drink this, you’ll feel better” Thancred helped her sip the water carefully.

“How is your pain?” Alphinaud knelt down next to her on the other side, checking her over.

“Manageable. Kind of. Everything just aches and I’m just tired.”

“Let me see if I can help with it” he cast a gentle healing spell and she sighed softly as the pain dulled down.

“Thanks, Alphinaud” the elezen smiled at her.

As each Scion made their will known to Leeja, that they would be fighting by her side whether she liked it or not they made their way into the Capitol building, leaving Leeja, Thancred and Ryne alone. “Well, this has put everyone in a solemn mood, hasn't it? Honestly, we're not even sure this will be the end of it. But I suppose we should speak our minds when we have the opportunity. You taught me that much in Amh Araeng” he smiled softly at her. She rested her head against him gently. “So forgive me this moment of sentiment, Leeja. By dragging me into this sorry mess, you've given me the chance to think and act as I should have. For Ryne's sake. Words cannot express how much this has changed my life, or how grateful I am for your support…” she looked at him, shocked. “...So I shall express my gratitude through action instead. No matter where you decide to go, I will be there, guarding your back” he chuckled softly as she choked back a sob.

“Since when did you sentimental?” Leeja chuckled a little and wiped her eyes.

“I’ve you to thank for that.” Leeja shifted her position and kissed him gently. She pressed her brow to his and forced back the urge to cry.

“Thank you, Thancred. For everything you’ve done for me.”

“You can thank me when we’re out the other side.”

“Thancred–”

“I mean it, Leeja. You will not die today. I will not let you” he stood and helped her to her feet before he headed off to meet the rest.

Ryne was quiet and Leeja could see the conflict on her face. “Ryne, sweetheart, talk to me” she leaned against the wall for balance.

“When Minfilia entrusted me with her power, she warned me that no matter how strong you become, you can still fall victim to despair; you can still feel powerless” the young oracle looked down at her hands “And she was right. After you collapsed on Mt. Gulg, my hands wouldn't stop shaking… If I made a mistake, if I failed to bind the Light within you... I was terrified you would die” she looked at Leeja sadly as she continued to unload. Leeja stood and listened to her, taking in everything she was saying and feeling her heart ache. She understood Ryne’s stress, the amount of pressure on her shoulders. “Even now, you could be moments from turning, and I wouldn't know how to save you!” Leeja opened her mouth to answer her, only to be cut off. “You, Thancred, the others, you've all been there when I needed help. Minfilia surrendered her life to me─her legacy. I should be ready to do the same for you! And I want to, I do! But I just… I'm not good enough. She told me to follow your example, and I've tried, I've really tried…” Leeja dropped to her knees and pulled her into a tight hug. Her body ached at the pressure but she didn’t care.

“Ryne…” she swallowed back a sob. “Listen to me, okay? You shouldn’t hang your head.”

“...I shouldn’t?”

“No, darling. You shouldn’t. In truth, I’m not asking to be saved. I’m just asking to save everyone else” she gave Ryne a sad smile.

“But the Light, it ─ You'll ─ How can you go on?”

“I’m at peace with death. I have been for a while now. And besides,” she closed her eyes for a moment before opening them again, “Fate can be cruel, but a smile better suits a hero.” With a renewed resolve, Ryne was ready to join the rest.

She helped Leeja stand and allowed the miqo’te to hold onto her shoulder to guide her. Leeja smiled softly and shook her head “it may sound daft but I can find my way to Thancred just by smell.” They made their way into the building and were met by Emet-Selch who began his speech. Leeja’s strength was beginning to wane and she gripped onto Thancred’s hand tightly and leaned against him. The flames from the door he walked though were felt by everyone. Everyone but Leeja and it was a feeling she didn’t realised she missed so very much.

______________________________________

No matter what they threw at the ascian, nothing penetrated his shield. Leeja forced her legs to move toward him, chanting it over and over in her splitting mind you’re so close. Kill him. Finish it! “And you! Why waste your final moments in futile defiance? Weary wanderer ─ you've no fight left to fight! No life left to live!” He taunted her until, in her dulled rage, the Light had other ideas. She collapsed to the ground and felt her very soul begin to tear apart, a pain she wouldn’t even inflict on Zenos. She went to scream but nothing but bile came out as she fell to the ground. She could hardly hear what was being said but she knew Emet was still taunting and teasing, but she couldn’t move. Her eyes burned, every part of her body and soul felt like it was on fire. She saw Thancred rush forward in a bid to give Ryne time but it was no use. She felt to her knees and reached out for Leeja.

“Fight it... You have to hold on!” Bile replaced her voice and everytime she tried to speak she failed until she finally collapsed.

When she opened her eyes, everything around her was white and bright and blinding. This must be my last chance before I turn. When she turned her head, she saw Ardbert, and a sinking feeling set in. “If you had the strength to take another step, could you do it? Could you save our worlds?” She frowned a little and pushed herself up off the ground and looked at him.

“What, by myself? You know I could!” Ardbert grinned at her and held out his axe. She knew what this meant and it hurt her. “Hey, Ardbert? Thank you. Despite our initial meeting it’s been a pleasure getting to know you.”

“Aye. And you, Warrior of Darkness” he smiled warmly as she took the axe. She smiled sadly as he vanished, but she could feel his warmth throughout. The feeling of her soul being ripped apart vanished and she surmised that he absorbed the remaining Light. He saved her life and she could never truly thank him for it, yet she knew he’d be with her always.

She rose to her feet, slowly at first as the Light exploded from her. Her hearing came back, as did her vision and she noticed the look of confusion on Emet’s face as she stared him down, her voice mixed with Ardbert’s and it was a strange sound. “This world is not yours to end. This is our future. Our story.”

“No... It can't be… Bah, a trick of the light. You are a broken husk, nothing more. How can you hope to stand against me alone?” Leeja smirked as her eyes flicked behind Emet. She had seen the flash of red and white of G’raha appearing behind him and looked back at Emet.

“I’m never truly alone, Emet-Selch. You’d do well to remember that.” The Ascian growled with frustration “I challenge you, Emet-Selch. One way or another, it ends.”

“Very well. Let us proceed to your final judgment. The victor shall write the tale, and the vanquished become its villain! But come! Let us cast aside titles and pretense, and reveal our true faces to one another!” He began a cast as a wall of shadow appeared and she came face to face with his true self. “I am Hades! He who shall awaken our brethren from their dark slumber!” Leeja smirked and pulled her chakrams loose from the holders.

“And I’m Leeja Fythe, Warrior of Light and Darkness both and the saviour of the Source and her Shards!” She launched herself into the fight with Hades.

______________________________________

He didn’t relent. He was intense and there were points Leeja wasn’t sure she was going to make it out alive. As the blackness surrounded her, the familiar sound of a familiar gunblade rang clear in her ears as Thancred tore through the veil “enough, damn you!” As he shattered the white auracite into pieces and the found a home in Emet’s body, the rest of the Scions began to channel their aether into the shards.

“Now! Strike with all thy might!” she barely heard Urianger over the sound and began to channel the remaining Light within her and formed it into the shape of Ardbert’s axe. As the darkness began to drown out the last remaining motes of light, she threw the axe as hard as she could and then it was over.

When Emet’s form vanished back into aether and back into the lifestream and naught of him remained, Leeja’s strength and legs finally gave out and she felt herself slowly falling. Only to be caught by Thancred “I’ve got you, darling.”

“Thank you” she gave in and let him take her weight. Both Ryne and Y’shtola confirmed that the invading Light had gone and her soul was no longer splitting apart. Her body ached and she was exhausted, but the First, and the Source, were both safe from another calamity. She was desperate for sleep and Urianger and Alphinaud quickly healed her enough to make it to the surface. Sadly their efforts were no good, the exhaustion and fatigue were overwhelming to the point any healing was negated. Thancred scooped her up and chose to carry her back instead, despite her protests.

They made their way back to the Crystarium where much needed rest was in order, and oh how Leeja looked forward to the sweet relief of sleep.

#FFXIV Write 2022 #Fuse #final fantasy xiv #ffxiv #my writing #leeja fythe #thancred waters #y'shtola rhul #urianger augurelt #alphinaud leveilleur #alisaie leveilleur #Emet-Selch #Ardbert #G'raha Tia #shadowbringers

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charm-in-spades · 2 years

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(Ʉ₦)ⱠɄ₵₭Ɏ ĐⱤ₳₩

𝙰𝚄𝙳𝙸𝙾: ‘𝙷𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚜’ | 𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚝 #𝟸𝟺: 𝚅𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚎𝚜

He had always despised Fate.

It was a fickle and indifferent mistress at best. Oft giving and taking with little regard or purpose for the one in its sights. And yet, at the same time, he held a careful consideration towards Nymeia and her antics. He believed at least, that Fate was real. Not a tangible thing that could be physically felt, but the sensation of knowing it to be a true and working cog against the fabric of reality was no less obvious.

He wasn’t sure when he started believing, only that the belief had always manifested itself in small and bitter ways. In Garlemald, he’d never mentioned his thoughts towards the matter given the consequences of doing so and perhaps in not speaking on it he began to blame the misfortunes in his life upon the greater workings of Fate.

It wasn’t just his imagination or a need to blame his misfortune on anything other than his self. He could feel it working against him in constant motions, like strings tugging on his soul. Each hurdle thrown his way was overcome with blood, sweat, and tears. An optimistic individual likely would say such challenges were to help him improve, but he never thought them as such. Consistent loss was not something he felt most people could recover from. Yet he persevered.

If anything, he felt like a lab rat running through a maze without exit. Something observed and tracked. He always felt like he was being watched by something greater than him. Yet, despite his frustrations he toyed with the idea of Fate and utilized a deck of cards as if they might help him understand his life better. The results always varied and he could give or take them, but today was different.

He stared a long time at those cards. They had stilled him, when he pulled them from the deck and set them before him. There was always something to be said about the cards. It was like a puzzle to be solved. They didn’t speak, but they had a lot to tell if you knew how to look for it.

He’d generally used them as a method for gaining easy information from others. When a card seemed correct in an assessment, people were usually quick to exclaim so, or something changed in their features that gave him something to tuck away. The baseline of an individual began to fade, and they too became something to read. Information was valuable and his scam was an easy one. If someone else had been there to watch him when he’d pulled his own, they’d have seen his features change too upon each revelation he flipped for himself.

The Three of Hearts was the fourth card to pull, but in this spread it represented his present. It meant a number of things but largely, what caught his attention was the aspect of fertility. An embryo. A growing child. It was odd timing, considering he meant to take a boat to the Warmaiden’s homeland and help her through a birth. He wasn’t particularly looking forward to being present during the horrific process of welcoming a newborn into the world, but if called upon, his loyalty was never something to waver.

The fifth card however, the second in his spread of the present was what stilled him. All was well with the first card, but it was marred by the second. The Ten of Spades. This wasn’t a good card to pull. He knew it the moment he saw it. It dictated grief, tragedy and a shadow cast about everything he looked upon. It made him shift in his seat, and squint a little harder. Immediately, his resolve to protect had hardened and instinct took over as he questioned his spread.

Was there a message to unfold with what he had pulled? The puzzle sat before him, and yet he felt like he was missing pieces to its meaning. It hit him though, that odd sense that he should listen to what was on his board though he wondered if it was just paranoia. The hand he had been dealt was a critical one, but he had no proof to back his intuition. Just a deck of cards, that shunned him when they wanted to, and helped in rare moments. In this case, he couldn’t tell which was which. He sighed.

“Fuck.”

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Out of Cards: Another one in my drafts for the writing prompt. Figured I’d get these done with and pushed out.

#FFXIV Write 2022 #stories

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laeorinel · 2 years

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FFXIV Write 2022 - DAY 30

Prompt - Sojourn

It's finally over T.T

Over 28k words written over this month and not a day missed. My brain is broken and needs a rest.

Had to finish this month off with shameless fluffy shippy nonsense.

Translation for "Khairaa" = my love.

Vague spoilers for 5.3 Shadowbringers. Thancred x Wol

Thancred cursed his body as another padded arrow slammed into his chest. He knew getting back into the same physical shape he had been in the First would take time. Even with Krile's and Master Matoya's work, his body had effectively been wasting away in the Source, and by the Twelve could he tell.

His muscles burned and ached as he moved to dodge out of the way of another barrage of arrows, deflecting a few with the practice sword he was using in place of a Gunblade. He wished he could claim it was getting easier, but progress was painfully slow. What both helped and hindered him was the one he was training with. When he had asked Samara to help him train, he had made the crucial mistake of asking her to go all out.

So she did. Samara held nothing back, moving and fighting just as she would in a real combat scenario. Her padded arrows hit with pinpoint accuracy and with enough force that they would likely leave bruises. Whenever her barrage would force him back, she would move forward, collecting discarded arrows as she did. Right now, he felt as though he was being herded, arrows flying just an ilm past his left shoulder, forcing him to retreat in the opposite direction.

She was boxing him in, forcing him towards the cliff at the back of their training range. Were they on the First, it would be little issue for him to run up the cliff a few paces and use it as a springboard of sorts to dive off and close the distance between them. Right now, he wasn't overly confident that he could run up the wall without falling flat on his back. Not that he would even have a chance to try as he heard the rush of footsteps coming towards him. He waited until the last moment to swing his sword in a wide arc, but he saw little more than a blur of pale skin and black scales drop low to the ground before diving up, two practice daggers pointed towards his chest.

With a sigh, he dropped his sword, holding his hands up in front of him. "I concede…again."

Samara smirked up at him as she tucked her daggers away. "You are getting better. The fight lasted longer that time."

"If you say so. I still could not land a hit on you." Thancred says as he tentatively rolls his shoulders, muscles bordering on the verge of cramping.

"And it will likely be many moons before you can, even once you regain your strength."

Thancred rolled his eyes before pulling the woman close, voice dipping lower as he leaned forward to touch his forehead to hers. "Is that so…well, I guess I will just have to settle for being your shield then. Such a hardship."

A rumble in the distance drew the pair's attention. They had been so focused on the sparring session both had overlooked a rather mean-looking storm forming on the horizon that was now right above them. The rumble of thunder was the only warning they had before the heavens opened; Thanalan's rainy season had finally arrived.

Thancred and Samara let out a stream of curses before making a run for a nearby cave where they had stored some of their belongings; both were soaking wet by the time they reached the entrance. Both of them had spent enough time in Thanalan to know that rain storms like this tended to last for the better part of a day or more. It seems they would be spending more time away from Mor Dhona together than originally planned.

Thancred slumped down to the ground heavily, a weary chuckle leaving him as he looked out the cave entrance, rain coming down thick and fast. "Not quite how I pictured our first getaway."

Samara set her bow and quiver down to the side before moving over to rummage around in the saddlebags attached to Altun, the Baras she had brought back from the Steppe. She didn't look up from the bags as she spoke. "You had already made plans for something like that?

Thancred shrugged, head leaning back against the rock. "Nothing elaborate. Just a brief sojourn somewhere. Kugane perhaps? In all the times I passed through there, I've never had the chance to visit their renowned hot springs. If rumours are true, they have private springs for couples."

He watched as she moved around their makeshift home for the night, making a firepit from various pieces of dried wood and sticks she had gathered earlier out of habit. Her silence dragged on. Had he said something that upset her? "Samara?"

"Hm? Oh…it's nothing. I just…never really thought of doing anything like that. To go somewhere purely to relax. It sounds…nice. Especially if you were there." Her voice quietened towards the end, a faint blush covering her pale cheeks.

He couldn't help but chuckle a little at her blushing at such a thought, as though going somewhere with your partner was something scandalous. Then again, from what he had been able to piece together, relationships like this were somewhat new territory for her.

"Well then, maybe we could arrange something once we return to Mor Dhona? We may as well take what moments of peace we can. Once I am back to full strength, I imagine I will be busy. My contacts are keeping me up to date with the situation in Garlemald, but I would rather see it all with my own eyes."

Samara sighs, holding her hands over the fire pit to warm them. "Do you ever stop thinking about work?"

"I just…do not want to repeat past mistakes." he frowns, his gaze fixed on Samara's back, where he knew he could find a rather large burn scar towards her shoulder and long jagged scars by her ribs. The whole debacle around Ifrit still weighed heavy. Too many died that day because of him, and then there was the mess with Lahabrea. Too many scars on her body were a result of his carelessness.

Samara shakes her head, knowing the thoughts that are likely going through Thancreds mind, muttering under her breath. "Silly man. You know I blame you for none of it. Now, come here." she then tries to guide him down to rest with his head in her lap.

He resists at first but the aches and pains in his body protest, begging him to take this moment of relief. He shuffles around, sighing and groaning in discomfort before he is lying on his side, head in her lap, one of her hands gently running her fingers through his hair. Tension begins to fade from his body as exhaustion sets in. As he fights against slumber, he lifts one free hand to grab hold one of hers, holding it gently as he loses the battle. He wants to say something, but his mind is so clouded he struggles to form words, so he just squeezes her hand, hoping that small gesture says enough.

Samara smiles, looking down at Thancred as his eyes close and his breathing evens out, her fingers still lightly combing through his hair. "Rest, Khairaa. If only for a little while. The world and all its troubles can wait."

#ffxiv write 2022 #ffxivwrite2022 #ffxiv fanfiction #thancred x wol #wolcred #thancred waters #au ra warrior of light

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kardions · 2 years

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Periphery

Xavery Alexander Hearthome: Warrior of Darkness, Fatewalker, Shepherd to the Stars.

To those that knew the person behind the nomenclature, the famed Warrior was no fighter, but a lover of life walking on the periphery of existence. Xavery had always held a penchant for being present exactly when necessary, but otherwise unseen by the world. A wanderer amongst time and space by trade, they had never been one to remain in one longer than fate allowed; he did not want to imprint his presence more than necessary.

So… how did this unassuming Viera transcend to become a household name? What follows is a brief account of a peripheral point in their story (this account exists on the periphery of a conclusive answer to that question).

The Vault, Ishgard. Early afternoon.

Delicate strings dancing, plucked by timeworn hands. Calloused fingers softly strumming the handheld harp-bow. Xavery continued their commissioned performance for passersby–knights of the Heavens' Ward making rounds–bowing when finished. They had just finished unfolding the harp back into a bow when a small group of people ran past them. Ser Aymeric and Ser Haurchefant were amongst the group… along with a brown-haired Miqo’te.

“I’ve never seen him before. I hope he’s not here to be the next court musician. But… Why were they all running? And why was that stranger with them?,” he thought to himself. “Hm?”.

Xavery’s Echo had triggered and he now saw a light blue musical staff, tinted with a faint purple glow, leading to the Miqo’te he had just seen. The music only Xavery could hear was not music at all—in fact, it was the sound of clanking swords, lightning striking and happy laughter.

“There’s more to him than meets the eye—I’m sure of it. I’ve gotta follow him.” Xavery followed a fair distance behind the group, bow sheathed.

The small party had run to the bridge leading to an airship landing where King Thordan stood ready to take off. Xavery arrived in time to peer over the shoulders of the small group and witness Haurchefant charge towards the Miqo’te.

“Wait, what’s he—”

A bolt of pure light struck the Elezen knight’s shield, forcing its way deeper into the metal. The brown-haired boy stood behind Ser Haurchefant, cowering but protected.

“No… No!,” Xavery thought. “How can I stop this? Is it my place to help? What should I do, Jehantel?!”

The light melted the metal, piercing and knocking Ser Haurchefant to the ground. A gaping hole was left in the shield and in the hearts of the witnesses. Everyone present, minus Xavery, ran to the knight’s side.

“I–I can’t move. I can’t breathe. Oh no. NO,” Xavery back stepped away from the scene, remaining on the periphery of listening distance.

The Viera Bard heard the signifying wind chime; Haurchefant’s soul had already left the mortal plane. They turned to view the scene ahead of them: white whole notes and rests danced around the knight who clung to breath. A black musical staff connected Xavery and Haurchefant, but it was melting in the middle; the sound of screaming, gongs and gushing blood rang in their ear. The knight they knew—their friend—had sacrificed himself for another. Xavery’s heart was hurting.

“Make it stop! Just die already! It hurts too much to know you’re gone but physically remain!”

Just as the Viera was about to turn to leave, he heard a familiar voice speak. With his last breath, Haurchefant spoke gently.

“A smile better suits a hero.”

Xavery’s Echo–the music–ceased.

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punches-and-cream-puffs · 2 years

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18. Buried

TW: Mild Spice

She knew some of it, from the books she'd read. The emotions that they felt, the supposed sensations that the authors tried to paint in flowery prose that she'd had to struggle through to make sense of. Stories of love, some of lust; some novels, some comics she'd found in her earlier literary explorations.

But none of it compared to the sensations she could remember. Words couldn't capture the thrill of pinning a dance partner to the floor, of feeling their struggle between your thighs as they struggled. Bodies against bodies in the heat of the moment. The rush of adrenaline that raced across the skin when the tables were turned and they blocked out the sky with their form, the area with the cage of their limbs. Hearts nearly touching with bare ilms between them. Hands grasping, shoving, pinning, the taste of copper from a busted lip and eyes burning bright as they caught the other's gaze.

Certain fights still left their mark in her memory; flickers of moments she kept tucked away. The way one struggled, the feeling of a fist bending her over with a swift punch to the gut. Words whispered mid-fight, blood dripping between them. Hands on bodies, the gripping of clothes, air on sweat-soaked skin. The fire in their eyes and the fire that lit within her. Lips ilms from one another before she threw her opponent off her her to turn the tables.

Moments she kept tucked away, fleeting feelings she kept buried down deep, deeper than the tree roots, the ruins in the Shroud, and deeper still.

Wants and needs that would never be given voice.

#ffxiv write 2022 #ffxiv write #ffxivwrite2022 #ffxivwrite #drabble #using sparring and fighting to handle certain urges is going to have consequences #she's just talking about fighting it's fine™#no editing just stream of words #trying to fight with a cat so I can write #Pebble you are not an author stay off my keyboard

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theshotsheardacrossworlds · 2 years

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Day 21: Solution

Estinien has a “little” problem. NSFW.

Damn her. Damn her! DAMN HER!

Estinien, long, muscular arms crossed over his chest and foot impatiently tapping the floor, stood in the kitchen at the cottage and watched her. HER!!!!

Unsurprisingly, Agnes was preparing lunch (fish and chips) and dancing about the kitchen. However, what was driving Estinien to madness was how she was dressed. She was wearing a ruffled bikini top and short skirt with new boots.

DAMN. HER. Damn her for being adorable. Damn her for being so sexy. Damn her for being so bloody perfect in every single fucking way. She’s doing this on purpose.

“Love? Loooooooooooooooooooove?” Agnes practically sang as she took the chips out of the fryer. “Are you quite good?” Her chocolate brown eyes twinkled like expensive jewelry that I wish I could buy for her.

Estinien grunted, trying not to her know that he was staring at her ass. “Hmph. Fine. Just waiting for lunch, my sweet.”

As she added a bit more salt and pepper to the chips, she wiggled her generous behind. DAMN. HER. STRAIGHT. TO. THE. SEVEN. HELLS. “Is that so? Well, it’ll be ready shortly.” She glanced over her shoulder, winking at him. “Then after lunch we can find a solution to your little problem.”

“Problem? I don’t have any problems.” Play it cool, Varlineau. She’s oblivious as fuck. Maybe she hasn’t noticed…

Agnes, to his shock, laughed so hard she nearly started crying. “WHAT?! Love, you’ve been brooding over there since I got dressed this morning…and not to mention, but the bulge in your pants suggests otherwise.”

Oh shit, she noticed. “Tis not a ‘little’ problem, madam, as you well know.” He murmured, his pale blue eyes watching her every move as she made plates. Put her on a bloody plate. I’ll taste her. Worship her. Give her anything she wants.

Leaning over plate of fish and chips, palms flat on the table and tits just THERE, she smirked at Estinien. “I’m well aware, my grumpy dragon. So aware in fact that you’re playing right into my hands.”

SHE DID PLAN THIS! I knew it. I fucking knew it. “Sweetheart,” Estinien growled and reached her in three long strides, ending up behind her with his hands on her hips. “You needn’t ever play a game to get me to…” he trailed off, squeezing her hips. So soft. All mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. “Presumably get me to fuck you on this table?”

She moved to rub her ass against his large bulge, causing him to groan. “Silly man. Why not like this? The solution is staring you in the face, and yet—”

Estinien groaned as he undid his trousers, freeing his aching member. “And yet, you still have your skirt on.” He quickly reached for her smalls underneath and pulled them down. “Spread your legs, Agi.” She wiggled a bit and did as she was told. “Good girl. Such a good, sweet, pretty girl you are.” As he lined himself up, his heart nearly burst when he heard her whine a little. “So needy too. Have you been suffering all d-day?” Gasping, he thrust gently into her at first. “Fucking hells. You’re fucking perfect.” Hot and tight and wet and all mine. She’s all mine.

Agnes, breathing heavily, nodded. “All. Damn. Day. Wanted to show you…ah, how sexy I think I can be…wanted to drive you mad…”

“You never need to drive me mad, woman! You. Do. It. Already.” He punctuated each word with a hard thrust, making her gasp. That’s it, my pretty girl. You’re getting exactly what you want, and only I can give it to you. “Agi, touch yourself. Want you to come on my cock.” I love it when she comes---never loud, little gasps, and her whole damn body quaking. Leaving one hand on the table, she reached her clit and gasped louder. “That’s it. That’s it, good girl. Come for me. Come for me, Agi.” Please. Please come. Need you to come. Please. With a small cry, she came, her knees almost buckling. She FEELS SO FUCKING GOOD! MINE! Holding her steady, he came, spilling himself inside her. How is she so sexy and perfect and pretty and all mine? How? Mine. Mine. Mine. After a few moments, Estinien summoned Nidhogg’s strength and lifted Agnes his arms. “You alright?” He whispered, nose against hers.

“More than, love. Quick clean up and then lunch? It’s ready, by the way.” She giggled, and he began to laugh. They laughed as they cleaned themselves. They laughed and joked as they ate. She makes fish and chips better than any vendor around here! They laughed when he pulled her to the loveseat to cuddle.

Her. The solution is always her. My Agi.

#agnes currai #estinien wyrmblood #estinien x wol #estinien varlineau #wolstinien #smut #ffxiv smut #ffxiv write 2022 #ffxiv write #agi knows what she's doing lol #she drives him crazy #but in the best way

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dainty-baneberry · 2 years

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20 Anon

“Thancred? A moment?” The tall, silver haired gunbreaker turned at the sound of his name. Although he was familiar with the voice speaking it, it was rare he heard her address him directly. The days where they were so hostile to each other they had come to blows were long past but Thancred would struggle to call them close. They were friends and each would have given their life for the other or the star and almost had numerous times over but Thancred knew he would never see Dainty laugh freely at something he said or did the way she would with G’raha Tia or the Twins. Nor would he seek her out for a companionable drink as he might with Urianger or Y’Shtola. They never could quite relax around one another, despite how much they cared. Too near was their grief for Minfilia, even still. Too similar were their utter irreverence for authority. “Dainty, well met friend. What brings you this way?”

“I would make some enquiries in Kugane but do not have your particular talents for subtlety.” Dainty explained in a manner that actually explained very little. She had a tendency to do that stemming from her stoicism. Where Urianger could be accused of using 20 words where 2 would suffice, Dainty was guilty of using 2 words when 10 were needed.

Thancred was well used to this with the often silent Au Ra however and held his hand out for the missive that she carried. It proved to be a sketch of an Au Ra’s horn, the same shape as Dainty’s own but possessed of markings indicating an intricate set of piercings. Thancred took more than a second glance at this. He’d never seen an Au Ra with pierced horns before and the writing on the paper explained why. These notes detailed a short window of time when, in recent Kuganese history, it had been fashionable for civilians and Geiko alike to have many ear and horn piercings. The practise had existed for only a short while before being banned by the Lord Bugyo of Kugane as it was deemed to have been introduced by a visitor from Thavnair and was therefore detrimental to Kugane’s ancient culture and history.

“You would like me to discreetly seek out information on the person who had their horns pierced in this manner?” Thancred confirmed, eyes raised momentarily over his bright gray eyes to assess Dainty. She was not the kind to ask for help from anyone let alone him. He admitted to being someone touched that she had done so as opposed to simply doing it herself.

“Aye.” Dainty nodded, again speaking in a frustratingly miniscule amount. “I could use a little more detail to work off, if you have it.” Thancred requested although he would not be discouraged if she didn’t. He could do a lot with very little, especially in situations like this which was why she had swallowed her pride enough to request his help.

Dainty considered this a moment, then offered a small shrug; “The woman with these piercings is possibly a hybrid, taller and more curvaceous than other auri. Naturally blonde hair, probably dyed mint green. Magenta eyes, orange limba….” “You!” She had never spoken to him of her past but it was obvious she was describing herself. They all knew she had no memory from before the Calamity but it was so rarely mentioned that no one particularly dwelled upon it. Riol had made the offer to search for clues about her past but Dainty had quickly shut that down saying that she cared not.

She was certain she had no family, despite the lack of memory she had absolute confidence of being alone in the world with no one searching for her.

It seemed almost dying at the edge of the Universe had motivated Dainty to look into her own history after all.

“Perhaps.” Dainty offered lazily. “I’ve these piercings, Hozan was kind enough to detail a time and place they may be able to be traced to. That is all I’ve got.”

“Understood. I shall set out anon.”

#ff14 ffxiv #ffxiv rp #ffxivwrite #writeseptember #ffxiv writing challenge #ffxiv writing prompt #ffxiv write 2022 #missed the deadline #late oh so late #still trying my best #doing it anyway

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the-wanted-man · 2 years

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𝕋𝕚𝕔𝕜-𝕋𝕚𝕔𝕜-𝔹𝕠𝕠𝕞.

𝐀𝐔𝐃𝐈𝐎: ‘𝐁𝐚𝐝 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬.’ | 𝐏𝐎𝐕: 𝐑.𝐋.𝐖. | 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 #𝟐𝟗: 𝐅𝐮𝐬𝐞

He was going to lose it. He could feel it in the restlessness that seeped into his very bones, and in the unsettled nature of his soul. No matter how calm the exterior or how easy the smiles were that he displayed to the world, his heart was simmering with a steady rage that seemed to grow, and grow, and grow with each beating until he began to despise his surroundings.

He detested this gods forsaken City and swore that if he spent another day in it, he’d set it on fire. He knew that if he caught another Brass Blade harassing some poor refugee again he’d lay him out right there in the streets, regardless of the consequences that may follow. If he had to keep circling the same stretch of desert in hopes of finding something new only to come up empty he’d....he’d...he wasn’t sure. He just knew that all his thoughts were taking a bitter turn, and his disposition towards anything became rougher, and rougher as time passed.

Did a caged bird resent the ones that could fly? He felt it must be true. He was tired of seeing the same old things, and he was tired of being around the things he hated so much. It made him sick to his core. Such feelings weren’t constant; Every so often he saw something or someone that stilled the heat in his breast for a little while but he’d been without either for some time. So when the mood struck, it did so with all the force of a hurling boulder.

He had been wrestling with such a mood as he walked down to Black Brush to pick up a package he’d been expecting. He'd been sitting idle, waiting for the train to come in on its usual stop when he overheard a conversation some few yalms away from him.

“Yes, yes. It’ll heal all your ailments, worry not! I’ve been a certified doctor in these parts for nigh on ten turns now! I make these myself so I can assure of their veracity.”

“Well its not for me, but for my son. He took ill a few days ago. Not getting better.”

“Well, darling, your boy will be right as rain if he takes this. For the simple cost of one thousand gil, you’ll see for yourself how well my potions work.”

Roman had a particular gift for deciphering a crook from an honest merchant and he could tell right away that this man was the furthest thing from a doctor. It led him to pause and listen in further to what was happening, carefully putting out his cigarette as his attention honed in on the two.

“One...thousand? I’m not s-sure I have so much.”

“Well, if you want the best you have to pay the best, I’m afraid.”

A quivering lip from the woman, and a defeated look came and the ‘doctor’ seemed to take pity.

“Here. I’ll strike you a deal. I’ll cut it down to five hundred. Can you do that?”

She hesitated. “It’s...all I have but I...can do it. Yes. I’ll do it.”

The look of triumph that crossed over the snake oil salesman’s features was what unsettled Rome. It was in that moment that something snapped in him. Likely, the tenuous self-control he had a tendency to nurture. Right now though, only his emotions held sway and before he knew it he’d marched right up to the self-proclaimed doctor and swatted the potion out of his hand before he could pass it off to his vulnerable customer.

“What the hell is the mean---” He shoved the man, who topped back onto his ass while Lawrence took up one of the man’s many ‘potions’, took off the stopper and drank from it. It had a slightly herbal taste, comparable to that of rose water which was a common trick among crooked salesmen like this. Roman’s sharp gaze settled onto the fallen merchant as he tossed the empty bottle aside.

“Wh-whats happening?” The woman for her part was startled, none the wiser to the trick she’d almost fallen victim to but Lawrence informed her with a grunt.

“Ain’t nothin’ more than a cheap perfume, miss, this man was tryin’ t’take advantage of ya.”

“Th-that’s not true at all you miscreant! I’m a doc--”

Roman bent down and snatched the crook up by his collar, shoving him against a wall. “STOP LYIN’! TELL THE TRUTH!”

There was fear in the other man’s eyes and then anger at what Roman could only assume was his own audacity. Everything else happened in a blur. He heard the soft ‘shink!’ of a weapon and felt something cut across his ribs. His arm snapped out to grab the false doctor’s wrist and he twisted sharply until he heard the weapon clatter against the floor and then his other hand, balled into a fist struck the man several times in the face.

The crook fell into the dirt, barely conscious as he clutched his shattered nose and moaned. It was at that point that Roman realized he’d caused a scene, as onlookers stared in obvious shock to what had just happened. His breathing heavy, he looked around and recognized he was like to be arrested, again, if he stuck around.

He quickly mumbled an apology to the woman, who had tentatively reached for one of the bottles to smell it and taste it herself. It was clear by her expression that she had recognized the truth as well and turned a look of both heart-break and anger to the man who had tried to sell her false goods while she’d had so much on the line.

Quickly digging into his own pouch, Roman removed his gil pouch from it and pressed it into the woman’s hands. “Ain’t much, but take it. Should be more than enough t’git ya sumthin’ proper.” With that done he quickly hit the road, leaving a crowd of people behind to whisper and talk as they may. He found that he didn’t care, because doing something in that moment had felt good. Really good, and for a moment, just a moment, he felt like himself again.

OOC Note: This would have been prompt 29 for FFXIV Write challenge but I didn’t have the spoons to complete it on time. Either way, hope its enjoyed by those that read it.

#Fuse #FFXIV Write 2022 #Narratives #Roman Lawrence Wyld

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scrollsfromarebornrealm · 2 years

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Free Write #4: Lightbulb

Cut for mention of child slavery.

Astrid stared out of the carriage. Her mouth opened--then closed, then opened again, as she tried to process what she was seeing.

“This...this isn’t the right address.”

“AcCoRDinG tO rEcOrDs, thIS IS tHe dEsInGaTED HOme OF CaMiLLa DEgLaSs aNd KaRi deGLaSS.” The mammet-brain empowered carriage responded. Astrid stared at the viewscreen, then stared back out of the window. In a numb sort of horror she undid the door latch and stepped out, her eyes taking in the desolation around her.

This...this can’t be right. Roderick and Emma’s manor on the outside--once beautiful white marble with lush greenery and colorful flowers...it was now pitch black. Everything in the yard was dead--brown grass, wilted flowers, broken trees. An air of neglect hung over the property..and to Astrid’s senses, it didn’t feel recent. It didn’t look recent.

Didn’t Bartaz approve a monthly expenditure some time back for property upkeep? The thought careened wildly about in her mind as Astrid stepped forward to the gates. She was grateful for her gloves, the amount of rust and decay on the wrought-iron bars made her skin crawl. There was no lock, and with an unholy screech of metal-on-metal, Astrid was able to push her way inside. Only too late did she remember the security wards, and the older woman braced herself...

But nothing happened. No shields, no golem-guards--nothing. No protective measures at all. When Astrid reached out--she felt only the broken husks of the spell-foci, their power drained long ago. Reeling from the implications, Astrid spun around on a boot, taking in the broken and ruined yard.

My lady...I’m sorry to bother you on this. But there’s something that’s come to my attention that I think you should be made aware of. Bartaz’s voice, whispering in her ear. Bile rose in Astrid’s stomach, but she made herself start to walk, keep walking--towards the front porch.

There seems to be something wrong with Camilla’s paperwork.

No security on the front door, a twist of the knob and she was inside--inside and the horror show continued, the smell of mold, mildew, decay and rot filling Astrid’s nose. Paint and wallpaper peeling, ruined floor planks--

And no furnishings. No light. No warmth. The home that Roderick and Emma had created--carefully chosen antiques and art...gone. Empty frames--the paintings cut out of them. Empty bookshelves, dust lining them and the tabletops. Somehow she’d ended up in Roderick’s study, and Astrid had nearly screamed from horror and despair. Her son’s books, his beautifully carved wooden desk-and the tapestry map of Eorzea he’d commissioned, she remembered how he’d give Kari geography lessons using it...gone, gone...

Kari. The realization was a jolt of ice-water down Astrid’s spine. Where was her granddaughter? There was no evidence of a child present--no shoes, no cape at the front door-no teen related debris--bookbag, papers...nothing.

My lady, please! Helena’s tear-filled voice. Please, I beg you! Something’s not right!

Wards at the windows and another at the front door if she dared to stretch out her senses--and now Astrid reeled, blood magic and malice threatening to overwhelm her. Spells to entrap and punish one who dared to fight back--but that wasn’t right, that wasn’t right at all!

You know her! You love her as if you were the one to carry her and birth her! Why are you listening to that fel-ridden harridan?! Why are you believing her?!

The moogle, thrusting a letter into her face-

Emergency, kupo-kupo!

Her granddaughter’s words on the paper-

Grandmother please, I beg you--do not believe what my stepmother has said about me being a most wicked child--

Dimly Astrid heard the clink of bottles and the murmur of voices. Now she moved-ran back through the halls and down the stairs to the kitchen. Here was light, warmth--and Camilla and her crony, sitting at the center table. A feast was spread out before them, roasted meat, vegetables, warm bread and stew, with glasses full of red wine. The crony paused mid-chew, a strip of meat dangling from his mouth as he stared at Astrid witlessly. Camilla blanched in horror--and Astrid saw the gil-purse in front of her daughter in law.

She plans to sell me-

Bartaz and Helena’s voices in her ears, an unholy cacophony of warning, and the now fast-burning realization that she’d been in the wrong, she was so horribly wrong, had been wrong all these years-- Astrid opened her mouth, and the voice that came from her throat didn’t sound like hers.

“WHERE. IS. MY. GRANDDAUGHTER?!”

#ffxiv #ffxiv write 2022 #astrid deglass #wol riven #and we are now on THAT fateful night

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mimble-sparklepudding · 2 years

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Fuse

An unfortunate quirk of Ramuh's

Was how easily he blew a fuse,

His temper so stormy,

He directed at poor me,

So I had to wear rubber-soled shoes.

Shocking levels of silliness.

#ffxivwrite2022 #ffxiv write 2022 #ffxiv writing challenge #ff14 ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #ffxiv #ramuh #levin #ff14 #final fantasy 14 #mimble sparklepudding #ff14 screenshot

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thebmatt · 2 years

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FFXIV Write 2022 Prompt #24 – Vicissitudes

“Come now, is this truly necessary? Surely you can tell who we are!”

The frustration churning in Rheika’s stomach gave way to blood-freezing panic.

No. Twelve, not him, of all the goddamn Ancients, not that asshole…

The other voice chimed in again. “Who you are, perhaps, but I am far less infamous. Regardless, if we do not follow protocol, ’tis our hosts who would be held accountable. So please, do favor us with your handsome face.”

Rheika prayed that she had misheard. Some trick of her memory, called from her subconscious by this place, this time.

And then he sighed.

Her heart fell. She had heard it so so many times in Norvrandt, she would recognize it anywhere. Whatever body he had possessed then, he had apparently done his utmost to remake it in his ancient image.

Of FUCKING course. Because first I have to trust Elidibus, then I get trapped in this fucking room, and now my least favorite capital-A Asshole has to show up.

She turned to face him, just as he pulled his mask down. Like all the others, he was incredibly tall. His hair was longer, and all white, but that face….she would never forget that face as long as she lived. It haunted more than a few of her nightmares.

The eyes were different too. A brighter, more vibrant yellow.

His companion, at least, was pretty to look at. Long lavender hair, matching eyes, pleasant smile on a lovely face.

She felt like she knew him, but she couldn’t piece together how. He certainly didn’t sound like any Ascian she’d fought before.

She turned back to Hades….who was looking right at her.

Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck nonononono he can’t possibly see me did he see me?

She wanted to curl up on the floor and given in right then. She had no idea what to do, no idea how to even begin getting out of this.

Okay, calm down. This is the past, right? Zodiark doesn’t exist, he’s not tempered…maybe he’s less of a fucking asshole. Maybe I can follow them and just…learn something? It’s the only idea I’ve got, and they’re starting to leave. Okay, you’re not done yet, Rheika. They can’t see you, let’s do this.

The pretty boy had stopped at the door.

“By the by, you see it too, yes?”

Oh son of a swivving fishfucker…

#Final Fantasy XIV #FFXiv Write 2022 #Rheika Aliapoh #hades #hythlodaeus

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leejafythe · 2 years

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Broken and Afraid

FFXIV Write Prompt Entry: Hail Word Count: 3003 AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42424743 CW: Alcohol abuse

Being hailed as a hero has always been something she despised. She hated being labelled as the champion of Eorzea, it came with added pressures that she hated. There were expectations that, if she failed to do them, would potentially put the realm in danger. She had saved the realm from the tyrany of Gaius “Black Wolf” van Baelsar in Operation Archon. She worked hard to bring an end to the Dragonsong War. She had defeated Zenos and freed both Doma and Ala Mhigo. Now she had restored the night to all of Norvrandt. It had nearly killed her to do so. And though she looked fine to the normal eye, the Exarch and Scions knew the truth. Leeja just wanted to rest. She was in a lot of pain, both physical and emotional, and just wanted to curl up in bed. They were greeted by an extremely large crowd as they walked back into the Crystarium, almost like everyone had come out to greet them. It made her uncomfortable, but she knew how to play the part. The part of a hero coming home, the part of a hero who had just beaten the enemy. As she walked across the bridge, hand gripping tightly onto Thancred’s, she was gently encouraged to walk forward with G’raha into the waiting crowd who cheered loudly when they saw them.

Fake a smile, hide the pain when someone strikes an injury without realising and play the part. Greet everyone who is there to see you and thank you for saving their world. You can rest when you’re done but for now, you’ve a job to do and a part to play. Cry later. The thoughts went through her mind over and over to get her through it, though it was a struggle. She thanked them all but excused herself. “I’m sorry, I know you’re all here to greet us but to be honest, I need rest. I’ll see you all on the morrow” she faked another smile. They all understood. She walked over to the aethershard but heard rapid footsteps behind her.

“Leeja, wait!” She turned to see G’raha.

“Are you okay? No lingering injuries and such?”

“I am quite well, thank you. Are you?”

“Am I what?” She frowned at him. He looked taken aback by her sudden snapping.

“Oh uh… Are you well? It was a stupid question, don’t mind me” You didn’t need to snap at him. He’s just worried, dumbass.

“Oh” she winced internally. “I’m just tired. Need some rest and all that” she faked a smile, though it was beginning to falter. She needed to get out of there before she broke.

“I see. Pray, get some rest. And thank you, for everything you’ve done” he gently squeezed her hand as she nodded. She teleprted to the Pendants and broke into a run for her apartment.

She slammed the door behind her, sliding to the ground as the tears finally overwhelmed her. Leeja only survived because of Ardbert sacrificing himself and it was a struggle to come to terms with. She had been at peace with dying, knowing it would save both worlds. She hadn’t thought about surviving at all. She wiped her eyes when the tears finally stopped and she stood slowly. She made her way over to the table in which she had left a letter for each of the Scions, G’raha, Lyna and Ryne, as well as for certain people back on the Source as well. As she gathered the letters, her door opened and closed again as a gentle, metallic thunk and a soft thud of leather made it clear who was in her apartment. “Darling” Thancred spoke softly as she continued to gather the envelopes. He walked over and picked up the one with his name on and he immediately froze “Leeja… what is this?” he saw her tense and it clicked. “This is a goodbye letter, isn’t it?” She kept her head down “you didn’t think you were coming back, did you?” Leeja shook her head as her tears began to fall again. He walked over and pulled her into a tight, protective hug. “I’m glad you did come back” he held her close as she buried her face in his chest. “Talk to me, Leeja. Please.”

All she did was shudder and tremble in his grip, but she couldn’t speak a word as soundless sobs wracked her body. He lifted her carefully and carried her to bed. He placed her down gently and removed her boots. Once they were off, she curled up small. “Do you still feel like you don’t deserve to be hailed?” she shook her head and curled up tighter as she whimpered softly. Thancred removed his boots and climbed on the bed carefully as Leeja laid her head on his thigh. His fingers combed through her hair gently “will you talk to me about it?” her heard her sniffle and take a slow, deep breath.

“‘M not worth it…”

“You’re not worth it? But you are worth it.” Leeja shook her head. He took a breath and asked the question he really didn’t want to “Leeja, why didn’t you want to come back? Other than not feeling worthy?” he watched her wipe her eyes.

“Was at peace with death…” she swallowed hard and swallowed down the lump in her throat. “At peace with letting you all live” a small whimper left her as he closed his eyes.

“You have been incredibly stressed, darling. Maybe you should go back to your one-on-one sessions with Y’shtola again… I will talk to her on the morrow but for now, try and get some sleep. I will be right here” he spoke softly as Leeja’s eyes slipped closed.

Come morning, Thancred woke early and watched Leeja sleeping. He felt so very guilty, but he wasn’t sure for what. She had her back to him, and had curled up as small as she could. He carefully climbed out of bed and got dressed before slipping out. Leeja had heard him leave, she hadn’t slept. She couldn’t, she was too uncomfortable and too sore to sleep properly. She sighed softly and climbed out of bed and dug about in her bag for a pain relief potion and downed it quickly. There was a gentle knock on the front door, making her sigh quietly and went to answer it. G’raha stood on the other side, waiting nervously. “Good morning, Leeja. How are you today?” she stepped to one side to let him in quietly, closing the door when he did so and she shuffled to the table and sat down. “Are you alright?”

“Just… tired” she gave him a weak smile. “Didn’t sleep very well.”

“Is there anything I can do?” she shook her head “I see…” it was clear he was nervous about asking something.

“G’raha, what do you need to ask me?”

“There is going to be a celebration this evening to celebrate the banishing of the Light and everyone wants you to be there, being the hailed Warrior of Darkness and such” he smiled warmly at her.

“...I see” she bit her lip and looked down. “I’ll… see what I can do. Celebrations and I don’t go hand in hand.”

“‘Tis understandable. If you do not wish to attend then there is no pressure to do so. I shall let you rest” he turned and left, closing the door behind him.

Come evening Leeja stood in front of the armoire, trying to find something to wear. She really did not want to go, she didn’t want to be praised, didn’t want people to make a big deal of her just doing her job. Thancred hadn’t returned all day and it sealed the deal of her just wanting to stay in bed and sleep. She ended up just wearing a pair of leather trousers and a simple camise with a pair of boots and a cardigan to keep her warm and made her way out. She planned to sit quietly and if anyone was to interact with her, she’d be polite. When she arrived at the Wandering Stairs, she suddenly felt under-dressed. “Here she is! The hero of the hour!” she grimaced a little as Giott called out and everyone cheered. “Come on! Let’s get some booze in you.”

“I… thanks but I’ll pass, Giott. I don’t drink. Personal reasons” she forced a smile as the dwarf frowned for a moment before shrugging and walking off. Leeja sat down at an empty table in the corner and watched everyone.

“Anyone ever tell you it’s unsociable to sit alone?” She looked up at Granson who offered her a soft smile. Her ears were down and she tried to smile back but it failed, and he knew something was wrong “come, let’s go for a stroll.” he offered a hand to her and she took it without a second thought. As they walked arm in arm, she could sense his worry “you know, most people would be happy to be celebrated as a hero.”

“I’m not one of them. I hate being praised and I hate being hailed as the saviour of the star despite just doing my job.”

“Oh? Last time you told me you were more than happy to do it, sinner. What changed?”

“I lost someone I care for because he sacrificed himself so I survived” she missed Ardbert terribly.

“Ah. Explains a lot. And do your friends know about this?”

“I told them but I don’t know how much they believe me, especially Thancred…” they stopped walking and sat on a bench, away from the celebrations.

“If it’s any help, I believe you. I don’t even know what happened but I believe you. It’s clear you care about his opinion” he looked at her as she crossed her legs.

“He says he loves me but… he left my place this morning and I’ve not seen him all day so it’s making me question whether I’m just being pathetic” she looked down.

“Grief is a powerful emotion that affects even the strongest of us. I learned that the hard way, and you taught me there’s more to life than revenge and mourning” he mused quietly and pulled her into a gentle hug “however when the loss is that fresh, you’re allowed to grieve” he rubbed her back soothingly as she felt a fresh wave of tears building. “You can cry, I won’t judge you. Not even the strongest can conquer grief” he squeezed her gently as a small sob left her and she began to finally let go, feeling safe in the knowledge that Granson understood her feelings and wouldn’t judge her for it.

Thancred had been looking around for Leeja after finding her apartment empty. He had asked around, yet no one had really seen her “she left with a tall guy, blue hair, scar on his face.”

“That’s Granson yer twit” someone slurred in response. Thancred followed the route they had taken and found the pair of them sat outside on a bench. He chose to just leave them, though he couldn’t stop the twinge of jealousy and the feeling of possessiveness he thought had left his system a while ago. He scowled as he went back to the Wandering Stairs and came across Y’shtola.

“Did you find her?”

“She’s with someone else, it seems” he clenched his jaw tightly.

“You sound jealous.”

“Well I’m not” he bit back a little too harshly.

“Clearly. ‘Tis why you’ve not been back to see her all day despite claiming to be concerned for her emotional wellbeing” she crossed her arms and looked at him. He just scoffed and turned away from her. “She has returned, you might want to speak with her.”

“No. I’m going to enjoy the evening and celebrate with friends” he walked away and found the miners, completely oblivious to the fact Leeja had heard him. Y’shtola watched the dancer walk away, ears flat and tail down and decided to walk over to her “Leeja? Is aught amiss?”

“He doesn’t want to talk to me… if anyone asks for me, ‘m not here. Went to bed, too tired” Y’shtola’s heart ached for her.

“Let me walk–”

“Please don’t, ‘d rather be alone tonight” she walked away, but not before stopping to talk to Glynard, dropping a large sack of gil and being handed a bottle. She walked back to the Pendants and Y’shtola frowned for a moment before being found by Runar and the rest of the Night’s Blessed.

Alisaie, Alphinaud and Ryne watched the miqo’te leave the celebrations and followed her to the Pedants, calling after her. She didn’t stop, just walked. “Leeja? Where are you going?”

“To bed. Leave me alone” the door closed and locked so they couldn’t follow her in.

“But… it’s a celebration for her…” Ryne looked at them, worried. Alisaie sighed.

“She’s not big on celebrations. Even when we saved Ala Mhigo she didn’t turn up for the celebrations.”

“Thancred said she’s been off since we returned. He’s worried for her” Alphinaud stared at the door.

“She is mourning the loss of Ardbert” they looked at her, shocked. “He has been with her since she got here.”

“How do you–”

“I… heard her talking to herself one day. When she realised I had, she explained him to me. I think… I think he’s the reason she’s still alive” she explained to them, though they were still confused. “She told me he was a Warrior of Darkness who travelled to the Source when–”

“When the initial Flood of Light happened. Gods, he’s been helping her the whole time? After trying to kill us?” Alisaie frowned.

“Now now, they had their reasons. While I agree it’s strange she didn’t trust us to make us aware of this, she is also entitled to some privacy. It seems she–” Alisaie didn’t wait for Alphinaud to finish talking as she went up to the door and pounded her fist against it.

“Leeja, open the door! Talk to us!”

“Alisaie, leave her alone. She needs time to heal and it is not up to us to decide when she needs to talk” Alphinaud sighed and watched her. “I shall go and get Thancred, he seems to be the only one who will be able to get through to her.” He walked off and Alisaie followed.

Ryne stayed behind and knocked on the door gently “Leeja? You don’t have to let me in, but if you need to speak with someone about how you are feeling, I am happy to listen” silence. She pressed her ear to the door and listened. Inside she could hear Leeja crying quietly and she bit her lip, especially when Thancred arrived at the door.

“Is she in there?”

“She’s crying…” she looked at him. Thancred sighed softly.

“Go. I won’t be back tonight” Ryne nodded and left him alone at the door. “Leeja, can I come in?” She didn’t answer and was just silent, the only noises were sniffles. He pulled the key from his pocket and unlocked the door, letting himself in.

The sight in front of him when he closed the door and turned around shocked him. She was sat at the table with a bottle of rum at the table and just drinking it straight. He walked over and sat next to her and tried to take the bottle from her. She gripped it tightly and refused to let go “let go, darling. This won’t do you any good” he spoke softly. He really was the only one to know how she felt and what she was going through. She took a long drink from the bottle and handed it to him, empty. Her tolerance was non-existant and he knew she was drunk and that she hadn’t eaten. He was in no place to judge her, not without being called a hypocrite. She had sat with him through his grieving process when they first lost Minfilia and now it was his turn to sit with her. “Talk to me, darling. I’m here for you.” She looked at him sadly as he wiped her tears away “you really don’t want to be thanked?”

“I-I d-don’t deserve it” she hiccuped.

“But you do, you stopped Hades.”

“Ardbert did” she sniffled and leaned against him.

“Leeja…” he felt his heart ache for her. He didn’t know how to help, if he could at all. “Aye, he helped but–”

“I was ready to die. Had given up on survival” she wiped her eyes and whimpered softly. “‘M not a hero. Don’t deserve to be hailed as one” he knew she had made preparations for death, he wasn’t expecting to hear that she had given up on living.

“Let’s get you to bed. You’re in no state to stay up and you’re drunk” he stood and lifted her up. She didn’t fight back and just let him do so.

He took her to bed and placed her down gently before removing her boots and placing them down “lets get you out of these” he pulled down her trousers carefully and chucked them onto the desk chair and tucked her under the covers. She looked at him sadly “sleep, sweetheart. I’ll be here when you wake up, okay?”

“You don’t have to stay” her words were slurred as she spoke.

“I’d rather stay and make sure you are safe rather than leave you alone. You are my priority” he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead as she began to fall asleep.

Thancred stayed with her all night, despite the fact the fact she slept all night. Thancred had fallen asleep and when he woke, Leeja had cuddled up next to him and gripped onto his shirt tightly. He smiled tiredly and fell asleep again. If she didn’t want to be praised and hailed hero then he’d make sure that her wishes were met.

#FFXIV Write 2022 #Hail #G'raha Tia #Leeja Fythe #Thancred Waters #Y'shtola Rhul #Alphinaud Leveilleur #Alisaie Levelilleur #my writing #ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #Shadowbringers

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the-sycophant · 2 years

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FFXIV Write 2022 - Prompt 29 - Fuse

Words| 640

[@/aces-and-kings did a ship crash writing recently] and I wanted to do one too like the little sheep I am!

Heavy. Everything was so...so impossibly heavy. Every limb felt as if it was made of sturdy, immovable iron, a consciousness trapped in the suit of armor that was her flesh, discarded on the battlefield, heart run through. It was a sweet lullaby, that darkness that threatened to overtake her, urging her to come back to the comforting lull of numb bliss. She was awakening from a sleep she didn't know she was in, her mind slow, forcing its way through the sludgy existence it was experiencing as a hoarse, stuttering exhale pushed past over cracked lips.

She couldn't see past the grime that had coated her helmet, and with a miserable whine she attempted, tried so very hard, to move.

"Oh...! Please...fuck!" The voice, her voice, was horrific static in her ears, what she thought a breathless whisper suddenly too loud, too jarring--

And her head spun. She had only barely moved her muscles and it felt like everything around her was a dizzying dance of pain and fatigue, her battered body rejecting her attempt to do anything beyond existing in its suffering. She could hear other voices through the linkshell that had been knocked from her ear, trapped somewhere in her helmet, but they were shouts, orders, screaming, and some she didn't recognize -- the enemy?

She tried again, pressing her palms hard to the earth--

"N-ngh!" An electrical shock that indicated damage sizzled down every nerve, sending her skin prickling with an immediate sweat, her gasp forcing lungs to press against something sharp, broken--

Fuck, fuck!

Pain, so sudden and overwhelming, erupted into nausea, an uncontrollable sensation of sick, of something not right, something too much—Her spine curved as she retched, breakfast coming up in a dreadful convulsion of debilitating pain and into her helmet. Disgusting, putrid vomit and blood -- spilling into her fucking helmet!! Oh gods--

She couldn't breathe, she could only taste, smell -- drowning in already unyielding gulps of desperation--

Another kick of adrenaline thrummed in her, barely enough to keep her from passing out again as she tried -- fuck! Her gloved fingers fumbled with the battered thing as she tried to remove it, digits frantic around the clasps and buckles, feeling her meal in chunks against her nose, lips, trickling down her throat and pooling against her skin where it couldn't escape--

And then air filled her lungs, agonizing breaths of scorching relief as she sobbed into her palm, pressing her forehead to the dirt, discarding her helmet as she cried proper.

Everything had happened so fast, the other airship, so large and approaching so suddenly-- the smell of scalding flesh as the mysterious vessel tried to force them to land, the exhaust too close and burning those on the bow alive--

Confused and worn, muffling her sobs with her hand, "Please...it's...u-uh...okay, y-you're okay...j-just..." Marlowe's pitiful attempt in consoling herself did little, the idea that she might die covered in her own vomit and alone too real. She needed to move, undoubtedly the local fauna would be drawn to...where was she, exactly? Her eyes flicked around, an unhealthy anticipation of something putting her on edge. Safe enough here to draw on the aether around her, she thought, to fuse her wounds shut with fire. She had no catalyst, no focus, no source to drain but nature, and it was a reluctant waste of her own aether but necessary. And so she did, mending herself just enough to keep herself from falling comatose. She was unbearably hot, filthy, but she needed to…too dazed to know exactly where or if she even should move, but knowing naught else, she began to walk, slow agonizing steps, just a confused and injured animal pushing its way through the unfamiliar foliage of the jungle, away from the growing plume of black smoke poisoning the air behind her.

#ffxiv #ffxiv write 2022 #ffxiv write #ffxivwrite2022 #ffxivwrite #quick during lunch #my writing #prompts

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