#MY MAN IS JUST WORKING FOR HIS SULTANA

[tritoch]

the other thing I find very funny about trying to write a canon compliant wol is taking all the wolship hints extremely seriously.

I don't really wolship because I'm just fundamentally not that kind of fan. But I know for those who are, the sheer number of romance hints FFXIV throws at you can be overwhelming to parse in a context where you have a preferred/intended wolship, particularly if you're not attracted to the gender the hints are coming from in the first place (a particular tip of the hat to wlw fans navigating the g'raha of it all). I've seen plenty of people write around them or write them out or be like "no aymeric was for real inviting my wol to a nice platonic zero-subtext dinner," and God bless all of you.

But it's really funny to imagine them all as all-too-real but unreciprocated or perhaps unreciprocatable. The sheer scale of it is comedy. Spoilers for all of FFXIV follow.

Oh God, the Lord Speaker wants to have dinner, just the two of us, at his family estate and not a government building. I hope he doesn't bring up his crush on me. Thal's balls he's about to bring it up—oh thank God there's an emergency. Oh no someone got hurt! Oh no it's the teenage girl with a crush on me.

Your life is a cosmic joke. You watch the Sultana get poisoned and all your friends probably die to save your life and it's kind of all your fault in some ways, I mean at the very least you should've spoken up when they gave the teenager a private army, and then the teenage boy speaks up and is like, "hey, I guess we have at least one ally. What about if we go visit that guy who is really obviously down unbelievably bad for you and wants to lick the sweat off of you." and you have to be like, yeah, Alphinaud. Great idea. Let's do it. I'll call him.

(brief interlude: also haurchefant's DEATH hits so good if you don't reciprocate. It's okay. He gets it. You're going through a lot and even if you had time to sort through your feelings maybe you're just not into him. That would be okay! You can love someone, or the idea of someone, without needing it to be romantically reciprocated. That's chivalric, even. Knightly. So he won't ask you to lie to him and say you love him as he lies dying in your arms. He's not so low as all that. But could you smile for him as you used to? That true hero's smile of yours. And you do, and he dies. And you both know he died for a lie, in a way, or a flight of fancy. And he's okay with that. Are you? Should you be? Should he?)

Then you're into Stormblood and it's like wow, okay. That last part was all high fantasy, of course there were loyal knights and elegant princes. But this is war. Imperialism. Grim business, surely there's no way—oh no BOTH handsome young revolutionary leaders seem to have a special interest in you?! And so does the Crown Prince of the Empire? Come on, man. I should get to do the whole horrors of war thing without having to also deal with this. Gaius sucked and it was weird that he let his foster daughter run around being openly obsessed with him but at least he never made it my problem.

You can't even get away from it across dimensions. Shadowbringers is a horror story about going on a teambuilding camping trip with your work colleagues for some reason except they all suddenly got really hot and they keep touching you affectionately on the shoulder and being like "I care for you and your happiness. Truly." And also you're being stalked for the whole camping trip by two old men who are obsessed with you. The false climax of the story is that the one old man tries to betray you and give a dramatic monologue about how he loves you but the two of you are doomed by the narrative and then the other old man shoots him in the back like "no actually its MY turn to betray them and give a dramatic monologue about how our love is doomed by the narrative." Then the real climax is old man #1 backstabbing old man #2 in the middle of said monologue before old man #2 dies and gives ANOTHER wistful monologue about his doomed love. Then for the patches they're like okay so we have this even CRAZIER old man who's gonna strike when you're weak and give a dramatic monolo—

and that's without even getting into the literal soulmate ghost only you can see

my warrior of light never felt more betrayed than in that scene where Y'shtola is like "haha Alisaie and G'raha have crushes on the warrior of light." Like I thought we were COOL, Y'shtola! I work here! This situation is already in such a delicate balance! Right when I got here I met Alisaie's "friend from work" who was like oh haha so YOU'RE the one she can't stop talking about and we never followed up on that because the woman died horrifically like five minutes later right in front of us! Then when Vauthry got away and we had to do all that shit with the dwarves, G'raha kept pausing every ten minutes to be like oooooh I'm so old I'm gonna die soon...at least I got to spend some time with some people who are really important to me...in fact here's what I'd tell the person who's most important to me...actually u know them really well haha. And I just had to sit there and be like wow, dude, crazy.

even in the face of apocalypse you still gotta go back in time like 12,000 years and there's somewhere there who makes you sit and listen to his story which is that the purpose of his whole godlike immortal life was to be in a throuple with you and old man #2 from the camping trip. and you just gotta sit there the whole time knowing you/your past life is the one who broke up the throuple over politics. He's like come help me harangue the old man into streaking in public, he'll do it if you ask.

then you meet and fight and kill God and you gotta turn to the team and be like hey sorry guys can you give me a sec. I'm gonna call God by her real name because we met one time for like four days and after that the promise of meeting me again was one of the things that sustained her through her millennia of suffering. Not like that but like. Idk. Just gimme a sec!

It's a relief when you finally get to Lahabrea and he's like actually I still don't fuck with your vibe. Like thank GOD.

And my WoL is very obviously dad-shaped so Dawntrail had a very specific energy for me but I understand that for plenty of people your deepening rapport with Wuk Lamat had a romantic subtext (same for Koana depending on how you read a few of his lines). And personally I think it's the height of comedy to be like, noooo, babe, your highness, I know you and your brother the king are in love with me and want me to stick around and support you emotionally through this governmental transition haha. But it's just...the cursed wineglass, babe. I GOTTA go figure out what's up with this cursed wineglass.

It's a running gag in some of the more optional content that people are like "you have an unreasonable number of hobbies and side gigs" to the WoL from time to time. But if every time you tried picking up a new hobby some new elf started baring their soul to you, you too would be like Hey Jessie (or sometimes Krile or Tataru), my good friend who is one of the only people in my life who knows what professional ethics and work-life boundaries are, any chance you need muscle on a gig on the other side of the world? Ideally with only Cid and his ex so all libidinal energy in the room is directed towards machinery or someone who isn't me?

ironically one of the only places you get a break from psychosexual obsession is the nier content

[bones4thecats]

hi, if it's not a problem I would like to make a request with Jamil, during his overblot he plays Kalim, Grim and the octanaville trio in the desert but he stayed with y/n because he had feelings for her, and she also had feelings for Jamil , then Jamil in his overblot state adoring and spoiling y/n, and her treating Jamil like a king

OB! Jamil Keeping Crush! S/O Around

Type of Writing: Request Character: Jamil Viper Name: OB! Jamil Keeping Crush! S/O Around Requester: @marinahavik

A/N: This is my first request written in quite a while. I do hope you like this!

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🐍 As a fellow member of Scarabia, you were close to both the housewarden of your dorm and your vice-housewarden

🐍 Jamil and you had a very unusual bond, he just seemed so off too you. But that didn't stop you from admiring him

🐍 Because of how much you admired him and began to help around Scarabia with his work to watch over Kalim, everyone swears that was the one thing keeping him from overblotting sooner

🐍 When you walked inside Scarabia with Yuu, Grim, and the renowned Octavinelle trio, you were fearful, were they right? Was Jamil really hypnotizing your dorm members, even Kalim?

🐍 You were there when the tweels helped reveal his true side, and when he yelled about how much he hated Kalim, you were scared when he looked at you and scoffed

" And you... what a joke. You believe to be featured with that magicless human will make you special? When you're already special enough?! You're about as oblivious to my feelings as him! "

🐍 Staring at him in shock, you were scared, why was there ink coming out from him?! And why was the rest of the dorm acting so weird?!

🐍 Glaring as your fellow dorm members began to obey as if they were being mind controlled, you looked back at your group, only to realize that they were gone

" Kalim? Azul? Jade, Floyd? Yuu, Grim?! "

🐍 The sounds of cackles erupted from the now dark-lounge, your mind went blank at the sight of your old friend

" You really trust those imbeciles, don't you? Come now, my dear. When will you gain the knowledge that I am all that you need... not those blundering fools. "

🐍 You looked into the red mist, making out a familiar shape, it was Jamil. But, at the same time, it wasn't him...

🐍 He looked so much different, black markings all around his face with a large turban hat, a long dress-like robe that was scattered at the bottom with the hat connecting down into a familiarly-made cape. And his long hair grew out into long black snakes

🐍 Jamil looked horrifying, yet somehow still attractive

🐍 Oh no! Why in the name of the Great Seven were you thinking about that?! The guy literally overblotted in front of you, he's beyond dangerous at the moment

" Well, well, well, you seem to be flustered, dearest. Do you perhaps like this form of me? All ragged and not being held back by a measly rich heir? " " Uhm- "

🐍 You tried to yell out a loud help, but you were only met by the sound of chains wrapping around your wrists and pulling you towards the man you would daydream about being with

🐍 He smirked and grabbed your chin, holding your head to look towards him, amusement was growing in his eyes as you blushed and pulled your face away, you knew you should be feeling disgust, and you wanted too. But... you just couldn't...

" Oh... did you really want a mere servant like what I used to be? You don't want power to be by your side? Here; "

🐍 With those words, Jamil summoned a small crown with red feathers around the bottom and a large red jewel standing in the middle;

" How about you serve alongside me? Like a Sultan and his Sultana? "

🐍 You gritted your teeth, you wanted Jamil, not this freakazoid. He would never try forcing you into this kind of situation!

" Fuck off! I like the Jamil I once knew, not this crazed lunatic! " " A lunatic you say? Why you little- " " Jamil! That is enough! "

🐍 Turning around in shock, that was when you noticed your friends had finally made it back to the dorm. And, in a moment of bravery, you leaped into a backflip that you learned from the former-vice and gritted your teeth as your group ran up to you to help you out of the chains

" If you lay a hand on them, I'll make sure you will never escape that burning desert, you damned pricks! " " Jade, get back into the fight... they need you... " " Y/N, you also need help. " " I will be fine, just go! "

🐍 And with that, the tweel jumped into action alongside his allies while you leaned against a wall and passed out

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩

🐍 The next thing you knew, you had awoken in the medical ward, hearing the low sobs of a male's, you turned around and saw the familiar hairdo of your favorite Scarabia member

" Jamil? "

🐍 He turned around in shock and away in a matter of seconds, he obviously didn't want you to see him in such a week state

" Jamil, just know, I do forgive you. You were under a lot of stress and you just wanted to be yourself for a change. But. "

🐍 Jamil stiffened as he whipped his tears from his eyes, his grey eyes pooling into your (E/C) ones as he cocked an eyebrow, interested in what you had to say

" That doesn't make up for what you did to our dorm. I may forgive you, but you must gain the trust of everyone else once again. I swear I will help you there, though. " " Why? I mean- I tried to force you into a relationship! You shouldn't even try forgiving me! " " Because... I love you. "

🐍 His eyes widened as a small smile emerged on his face while a small blush also appeared

" I love you as well, Rohi... "

[bloodsworn-marshal]

Writing Prompt: Stamp Word Count: 930 (Bandit AU) ---> masterlist

All throughout this young man’s life… all had gone according to plan.

Sure, his humble beginnings were not so great. By no fault of his own.

Sure, he’d ended up behind gaol bars once or twice… but twas always with the expectation that one would easily escape within a day or two’s worth. Sometimes less.

Those times where he happened to be thwarted by authorities? They were rough gambles anyways with naught to be lost should those attempts fail.

Ultimately, Bandit Leader Pipin Tarupin never suffered a setback worth losing sleep over. Not until… a series of unfortunate events. Piling on top of each other, one after the other. As if karma had finally come knocking after all these years of delinquency and having his way.

It came in the form of a risky endeavor. One where Pipin went way over the line in his plan of distraction and kidnapping. His bandits would handle the brunt of it all in the background while he would put on a grand display to distract the likes of all Immortal Flames during Ul’dah’s Little Ladies Day event. Security was lax for but a moment and before anyone realized… that Sultana herself had slipped into his hands. Taken for a ride around the city as his hostage as his greatest taunt yet.

The move succeeded of course. Pipin caught the attention of all eyes for a split moment. Dancing atop rooftops with Her Grace until the flame general came barreling after him and causing an ungodly ruckus. He made a mockery of the Flames that day and escaped easily without a slip in his steps. Of course the Sultana had been rescued… but she was never the true aim to begin with.

…Thus were the beginning of his headaches.

For what did his bandits do but kidnap the wrong person and brought them back to their hideout no less?

Mistake number one was trusting in others to do the dirty work right. Mistake number two was underestimating the kidnapped lass and receiving a proper kick between the groins when he intimidated her on meeting.

It didn’t stop there either. The worst was yet to come. Just when things were looking up in fact.

After humiliating the Flame General for many years and the worst mockery of all in his latest endeavor, the monetarists had decidedly tried to put the man down in the form of an ‘accident’. Someone needed taking all the blame for Pipin’s actions and it was high time the man finally paid for his failures. Stabbed in the back and left for the desert vultures as his lifeblood bled out.

He would survive however. Rescued by moogles in exchange for an unknown debt he had yet to know of in truth. His life given a second chance… as Pipin offered a hand to welcome him into his fold. To leave all and everything behind as he started anew. And mayhap forge a strange bond as a way of Pipin making amends for causing the man so much trouble.

They shook on it. He had been the first to offer his hand even.

That was mistake number three.

“Waaaa!!!! Oh no! I forgot!!” One of the moogles present cried out, wiggling in dismay and floating up into the air some. “The warning about the mark!!”

“…It spreads, kupo.” Answered another, gesturing at the duo’s hands. “The debt owed as well.”

All hell broke loose.

Upon the moogle’s words, Pipin’s grip stiffened. And with a sudden sense of uneasiness, he slowly raised up the palm of the hand that just shook with the former general’s hand. What was once clear flesh now marked black with a paw print of sorts. Stamped and marked in what may as well have been permanent, binding ink.

Silence hung in the air… and before the man could so much as react, the bandit leader was upon the other. Hands grasping each of his shoulders and shaking repeatedly.  “Did you curse me!? Eh!? Is that what all this is about!?”

In Pipin’s mind, he had been fooled. By General Zura, by the moogles, by everyone in an instant. Had for a last laugh at his expense after a rough few days.

“Agh--!!! No! What? No!!! You offered to shake MY hand, remember?! I didn't know this was going to happen! I don't even know what that debt is!!!"

“What do you mean you don’t know!?”

…Twas ignorance then. Plain and simple. And Pipin knew then exactly where to redirect his building anger as he was losing his absolute mind.

“Dinner.” He hissed, hands having snaked away and found themselves wrapped precariously around the moogle at fault. Grasping firmly and tugging at its fur. “Either you get your facts straight or you’re tonight’s supper.”

Zura had joined Pipin at his side, arms crossed and looming over the moogle just as leerily. At this rare juncture of time, they were both of same mind. “And I’m not about to stop him. Better start talking, kupo.”

The moogle trembled and shrieked a deft, “DON’T EAT ME!!!!!”

Humiliation on top of humiliation. For now the bandit leader had been dragged into an oath and a debt he knew not how to pay because the blasted creature couldn’t remember for the life of itself how to do so. Thus would the mark remain on his hand, threatening to spread to any other unsuspecting person he might accidentally touch.

And with plenty more humiliations to endure in the future. The price he had to pay for that day… was it truly worth it?

[dawnslight-aegis]

6. ring

(follows the epilogue for more than fear)

A full sennight after her return from Ultima Thule, most of which she had spent sound asleep, Aymeric walked into his – their – chambers to find Kaede awake and mostly alert, leaned back against the headboard as she sat staring contemplatively down at the ring that adorned the third finger of her left hand. A smile tugged the corner of his mouth at the reminder that yes, she had in fact agreed to marry him, but he set the still-fresh joy aside as he settled onto the bed beside her. “I hadn’t the chance to ask you yet – do you like it?”

Blinking in surprise, Kaede transferred her attention from the jewelry to him, her blue eyes nearly lost in the darkened flesh that surrounded them. “The ring? It’s lovely. Though, I must admit, considerably more ostentatious than I expected from you,” she murmured, her voice still a touch raspy and words coming more slowly than usual, but stronger than any she’d uttered thus far. The improvement was wonderful to see, even if the reminder of how badly she’d overextended herself still sent a sharp spike of worry through his heart.

But Kaede, more than anything, hated to be fussed over, so Aymeric swallowed back his impulse to tell her to rest. Instead, he took her left hand in his and ran his thumb over the large central sapphire, surrounded as it was by tiny shards of diamond. “To be quite honest, ‘tis indeed more extravagant than I planned, but the artisan required creative control as a condition of taking the commission.”

Her eyes narrowed in thought, Kaede regarded him steadily. “That’s…unusual, for a commissioned piece. Who did you hire to design it, anyway? I’ve been trying to figure it out for days now – I would have assumed that you would have gone to Serendipity, at the guild in Ul’dah, but it seems too finely made even for her.”

Aymeric ducked his head to hide a smile. “I did go to her at first, yes. But when I told her my goal – that while I did not wish to propose to you with a ring of your own making, neither would I consider presenting you with something of lesser quality than your own work – she was uncertain that she could reliably fulfill my request, and directed me elsewhere. Though acquiring an audience with Master Manderville was –”

Kaede abruptly leaned forward, her voice caught somewhere between amazement and outright horror. “Manderville? Godbert Manderville? When? How? The man doesn’t take commissions, he just…wanders Eorzea these days, looking for inspiration.” She waved a hand in vague disbelief, looking more animated than he’d seen in some time.

“Well, as I was saying, actually tracking him down was the difficult part. I had to enlist the sultana’s assistance for that, in exchange for a few less favorable-than-usual trade deals.” Nanamo hadn’t driven a terribly hard bargain, all things considered – he had gone in expecting to have to offer much more than he had. The negotiation had felt more like an uldahn formality than anything, but Aymeric had no doubt that had his request been for the benefit of any other woman, the outcome would have been far different.

“Aymeric, are you telling me that you exchanged political favors to get me an engagement ring?”

“No, I believe I said I exchanged political favors to obtain a meeting with the man I hoped to convince to make you an engagement ring,” he responded, his smile breaking into a full-on grin at her incredulous expression. “It is my opinion that Ishgard and Ul’dah are both sufficiently in debt to you that it shouldn’t be considered an abuse of power, and Nanamo agreed.”

With a deep sigh, Kaede shook her head and leaned against his upper arm, looking more tired by the moment, but still focused entirely on his story. “Alright, so Nanamo helped you track down the famously elusive Godbert bloody Manderville, the greatest goldsmith of our era, and then what?”

“Then I found myself in the surprising position of not needing to convince him of anything at all. When he realized that the ring was meant for you, he agreed immediately, on the condition that I permit him aesthetic freedom with the design. From the way he spoke, he thinks very highly of you, and some manner of assistance you provided his son? Honestly, I didn’t quite follow some of what he said, but he seemed a congenial sort of fellow. Odd, but most geniuses are, I suppose.”

“Important question: was he wearing a shirt, when you met him?”

Aymeric blinked, but there was no hint of playfulness in Kaede’s expression, only earnestness. “I… yes? Is that… unusual?”

With a grin at his obvious confusion, Kaede shrugged and tugged him down with her into bed. “Neither of us are remotely drunk enough for me to attempt to explain the absolute abyss of logic and reason that surrounds Hildibrand Manderville and his family, but suffice it to say, most of the times I’ve met Godbert, he was wearing little more than his smallclothes and his pince-nez. The man is insane. A genius, yes, but completely off his rocker. I’ll be damned if he isn’t a master goldsmith, though.” Her smile softened into something warmer as she settled in on her small pile of pillows, regarding him with a soft expression. “It sounds as if you went to a great deal of trouble on my behalf. You didn’t need to, you know. I would have been happy with anything, as long as it was from you.”

“I know that. But I wanted to. You deserve all the trouble I can spare, and more.” He reached over and smoothed a lock of blonde hair, tucking a curl back in among its fellows.

Smothering a huge yawn behind her hand, Kaede’s eyes drifted closed for a moment, then opened and fixed on him again, as if daring him to argue. “Fine. I’m making our wedding bands, though.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[ainyan]

WIP Wednesday

Haven't done - or seen - one of these in a while. So have a shot of Thancred and Minfilia as they discuss the adventurer that he has discovered on the sands of Ul'dah.

“You’re working too hard again.” Minfilia gasped and raised her hand to cover her mouth and muffle any further exclamations as her eyes came up. Thancred grinned at her from the other side of the desk. “And you’re not paying attention.” His eyes dropped to the hand that still rested against the desk - and to the knife hilt that lay below it. “Good reflexes, though.”

“Thancred!” the blonde complained, lifting her hand from the dagger to plant it on her hip, “I wish you wouldn’t do that.” Despite her irritation, her expression softened as she gazed upon the rogue. “But it is good to see you. Is it safe for you to leave Ul’dah right now?”

He shrugged. “I’m barely an hour’s ride from the city. If needs be, I can get back in half that with the right chocobo.” His nonchalant air dissipated, and his expression grew grim. “And I have news for you that I did not feel could wait, nor be entrusted to a courier.” That had her attention now, and she straightened, nodding for him to continue. “Her Grace the Duchess was attacked by a voidsent.”

The news shocked Minfilia, and she stared at her companion, jaw agape. “What, in Ul’dah?”

Thancred shook his head. “No, just outside of the city. She was… visiting the Sultantree.”

The Antecedant’s blue eyes were troubled. “I presume you were able to drive the beast off,” she murmured, “as I’ve had no word that the Sultana of Ul’dah has been injured or killed.”

The rogue’s grin was wry. “It’s dead,” he assured her, and at her startled look, his smile widened. “And while I’d like to take all of the credit for killing a voidsent, the truth is, I had the aid of an extremely capable adventurer.” He hesitated, frowning, then sighed. “In fact, I think you might find her most interesting,” he added in a reluctant mutter.

“Her?” Minfilia replied, one eyebrow winging up. 

He sighed. “She has the Echo,” he confessed, and watched Minfilia’s jaw snap shut. “More… I believe she has spoken with Hydaelyn.”

“Hydaelyn!” exclaimed the blonde.

Thancred slowly nodded. “She had a vision shortly after we felled the beast. I attributed it to an excess of aether; the beast released plenty, but afterwards she told me of a vision - of a giant blue crystal which spoke to her. Told her to hear, feel, think.”

Minfilia stared at him. “Oh gods,” she whispered. “Could it be?”

He didn’t know what she was thinking, but he knew as well as she how rare the Echo itself was, much less accompanied by a true vision of the Crystal. “If she is telling the truth, and I see no reason to doubt it, she may be exactly what we’ve been looking for - another Scion with an Echo strong enough to rival your own, but capable of taking the field.”

Lost in thought, Minfilia absently nodded at him as she folded her arms and began to pace. “You have witnessed her having a single vision, you say?”

Still unhappy with the situation - and uncertain as to why he was so unhappy - Thancred ran his thumb in a circle along the pommel of his dagger and nodded. “I’ve only seen her the once thus far,” he replied. “But I admit, she impressed me.”

Pausing at a note in his voice, she looked up, giving him an ironic look. “My friend, you know that if we invite her to join the Scions - especially the senior circle…” She trailed off, but knew he understood exactly what she had not said.

“I am aware.” The words came out in a growl and Thancred grimaced. “Apologies, my lady,” he murmured. “It has been a long day, and I am still out of sorts for Nanamo’s near miss.”

That was not it at all, Minfilia mused, but she did not say the words out loud. She’d known the pale-haired man since she’d been a child, and she knew quite well how to handle all of his moods - even the ones that puzzled the both of them. “Of course,” she said instead. “Is there any other news from Ul’dah?”

He shook his head, still frowning over his lapse. “No. None of note. Your orders, my lady?”

She had to smile. “As if you’d listen to them if you did not like them.” Ignoring his affronted expression, she waved a hand in the air. “Continue your work in Ul’dah, and keep a close eye on this adventurer of yours. If your suspicions as to the nature of her Echo are correct, then recruit her and bring her to me. If you have found she whom I have been seeking…” She trailed off, ignoring the rogue’s curious look. “Thank you, Thancred.”

He was bursting with questions, but knew a dismissal when he heard one. “As you will, my lady,” he said instead, according her a florid bow before turning and quitting the solar, leaving her alone with her paperwork.

Her paperwork, and the broken staff framed upon the wall behind her, the staff to which she turned, clasping her hands before her. “Oh, Louisoix, can it be?” she whispered. “Has a Warrior of Light finally returned to us? How strong is Her Light within this adventurer? Could she be the one I have been awaiting these five years past?”

Troubled by her own questions, she turned away and resolved to bury herself in her paperwork, shoving aside her concerns - and her hopes - for Thancred’s next visit.

Tagged by: No one

Tagging: @irisopranta, @otherworldseekers, @starrysnowdrop, @sasslett, @bnuuywol, @writerman, and anyone else who wants to.

Please share your WIPs!

[sileniadream]

A tool in the right hands

“Jub ner lbh?”

The thought travelled through the blue, infinite and shining so much. A flicker. Something trembled, a wave, answering softly in a motherly voice. Standing in the middle of a glyph, the warmth of the voice was quite different from the cold atmosphere around her. Her eyes hurt so much, the light isn’t so kind, but she stands, listening.

-I am Hydaelyn, who others call the Mother Crystal.

The immense crystal came from nowhere, or was maybe there since the beginning. Lyreis couldn’t tell. Everything seemed so alien to her, and the name that she heard in some prayer at the Stillglade Fane still didn’t make sense. Closing her eyes, shielding from the light, she thought once again, unable to form words.

“Jub nz V?”

-You are a spark of hope. You are a light that will guide my children. You are a flame that will bring the Sun in its right course. I gave you my Benediction and awoke a power within you, so you can build the road they’ll take to find me.

“Gur fha? ... Fha... Nz V bayl n Zbba gura....?”

The wave again. Was it kind? Was it amused? Her voice finally came out of her mouth, and Lyreis asked : 

-Am I only a reflection to the real light you seek?

Now fully awake, Lyreis watched the decor in front of her eyes. Stones, metal, a soft fabric under her hands while she waited for a sound, a feel that never came. She rose from her bedsheets, unable to understand the dream she had. Already part of it was disappearing from her mind, like a haze dissolving as the sun arose. The word ticked in her head, but she shrugged and got out of her bed, walking slowly to the sink in her room, washing her face. The last shred of her dream went with the water, and she stopped caring. She was staying in Ul’dah for a few days now, following a mission given to her by Kan-E-Senna, then by the adventurer’s guild. Everything felt too busy, too noisy, too bright. Limsa Lominsa somehow felt a bit more like “home”, but she had to leave for a missive to be given, a warning about an Empire on the move. Lyreis wasn’t sure about the implication of it all, and in what circumstances it would be of any interest to her, but she did as she was asked, and gave the missive to the Admiral and to the Sultana. 

Today was a day off, something she didn’t understand. No missions, no work, only some time for herself to do anything she wanted. Lyreis got out of her inn room into the Quicksand, thinking about what she was supposed to do. Walking aimlessly seemed the only right choice for someone like her, and she soon found her foot bringing her into the most crowded place, the Sapphire Avenue. Many merchants were haranguing customers for their fine fabrics and jewels, or the newest book from Sharlayan, spices and food from Thavnair, lands she had never heard of before. Looking around, she only felt out of place, but it soon didn’t matter and she just walked her path, slowly but surely, unknowing of some of the eyes watching her every more. While she was a curiosity in Gridania, she didn’t stick out like a sore thumb in Ul’dah, where many came from anywhere in Eorzea. An adventurer within many of them, a simple customer in the eye of the merchants. A boon for the beggars and cutpurses, but somehow, none of them got close to Lyreis, as if someone was making sure they wouldn’t trouble her.

-My lady, can I help you? You seem lost!

That someone seemed to try to catch her attention now, but she wasn’t even looking at him at that moment. The voice tried again, this time touching her arm softly to warn of his presence. Lyreis stopped in her tracks and looked at the man standing now close to her, a cheeky smile on his lips.

-You were lost, but maybe more in your thoughts than in this place.

-Do you need something of me?

Taken aback by that blunt question, the man suddenly laughed and shook his head. He heard about her personality, Papalymo warned him that she would be difficult to talk with, but he didn’t mind the challenge. He was, after all, a charming rogue that couldn’t count how many women he swept off their feet. In a good mood, he asked once more : 

-I’m sorry if I’m bothering you, but I wished to talk to you, if you do not mind?

-I don’t have anything to do, why not.

He smiled for himself, then bowed and told her to follow him. Going back to the Quicksand, he found a table and showed her to a chair before he signed for a drink to Momodi. Sitting, he watched as Lyreis was just waiting for him to talk. She didn’t say a word, her green eyes set on him.

-I should introduce myself first. My name’s Thancred Waters. I’m a friend of Yda and Papalymo, who you met in Gridania a few moons ago.

-Then you already know who I am. But call me Lyreis anyway.

The stoic type, then. He wasn’t too phased by it, having already met women like her before. Papalymo really was too worried about anything. That lady would soon give up all her secrets to him. A waiter brought two drinks and put them in front of Thancred and Lyreis before leaving the two alone to speak. The rogue took his glass and turned the liquid inside for a bit before talking again. She didn’t touch her drink.

-I’ve been interested in you since they talked about your meetings. The fact you’ve been chosen, an outsider, by the Oracle to serve as an ambassador with the two other nations of Eorzea is a sign that you are quite special. You gain the trust of many, even spirits of the Black Shroud seem to like you.

-I did what I was asked, I think they just accepted my presence.

-Still it wouldn’t explain why Lady Kan-E-Senna gave you that mission.

-As I said : I only did what was asked of me. I am… “reliable”. 

-Is that all there is? My lady, I would say you are a capable woman, strong enough to make a difference, and of great beauty if I may.

Lyreis tilted her head a bit, her face not showing any more emotions than that. Confusion, maybe, but clearly she didn’t understand how her so-called beauty had to do anything with the reasons why people trusted her. Or maybe it was. People tend to speak with good looking people and trust them more than with something ugly or unsettling : that was one of the reasons she had to act less like a mammet after all. Maybe then he was right. She straightened her neck again and shrugged a bit.

-I suppose those are good reasons then. Is that why you wanted to talk to me?

-I was intrigued. And still am ! Why not drink at our first meeting, and then dinner, just you and me ?

She took her glass, waiting in front of her, and as he was ready to toast, she didn’t wait and drank it all in one go. Thancred watched her, amazed by this display of uncaringness, then took a sip of his own drink, suddenly feeling a bit down. What had just happened? Did he lose his touch? Or was she really, really hard to talk with, like Papalymo said? The worst was that she was just looking at him, waiting again. She then turned her head around and saw troubles coming her way, once more. Rising from her chair, she took her staff and used it to knock out her assailant before he could do anything, disarming him.Thancred didn’t even have the time to rise up and get his weapon, and stood astonished at how Lyreis didn’t even bat an eye while doing this. Another man was waiting behind and told her to come out as their chief had to settle a score with her. She shook her head, then turned to Thancred : 

-You will have to buy me food another time, it seems. See you.

And off she went, the poor hyur watching as she crossed the roegadyn lying on the ground, still trying to understand what happened to him, and got outside of the Quicksand. They were four or five waiting outside, with a man particularly angry at her sight. Thancred caught a glimpse of his two friends and decided it was better to leave it at it for the moment, conceding his defeat for today. Yda would maybe be better to bring Lyreis to the Waking Sands, and Papalymo would explain everything on the way there. Too bad for him though.

Lyreis stretched her arms, still holding her staff, watching the henchmen waiting for her. She didn’t remember who they were, but somehow she made something to make them mad at her, and she had to take care of it without bringing trouble around her. After all, Momodi and the people of the Quicksand were kind with her, and she was still acting as a gridanian ambassador, she thought. It would make things harder to deal with if she made a mess of this situation. She was reminded by a small voice in her head that she was supposed to heal people, not hurt them, but clearly those in front of her didn’t really care about her career : she had to defend herself. She could always mend them after the fight, if they didn’t flee first…

It didn’t take long for the ruffians to be taken down, and the Brass Blades to come and disperse the people around, while Lyreis watched her newfound enemies running away. She was returning to the Quicksand to apologise to Momodi for the troubles she did inside but was stopped in her tracks by Yda who was waving at her from the other side of the street. She knew it was for her, as she was clearly calling her name in a cheerful voice. Lyreis walked to her, and saw Papalymo, a bit behind, looking as serious as usual. The lalafell looked at her and asked Yda to calm down a bit now that their acquaintance was here. He waited for things to settle a bit in the street to start talking.

-Lyreis, I suppose everything is alright?

-I don’t know why they wanted to fight, but I don't think they’ll come back anytime.

-That’s for the best, we wanted to speak with you and if we’re not interrupted, it would be great.

Yda was smiling and cheering silently at Lyreis, who waited for Papalymo to go on.

-As you may have understood, we have been watching you lately. It’s because you have a power within you that we are seeking. You’re not the only one to have it, as our chief also possesses that power, but we want you to join us, so you can learn more about it, and help us as we help you.

-A power, you say. I’m not sure I follow.

-Haven’t you had visions of the past, of people you only met, things that happened not so long ago? Don’t you sometimes see things when fighting that makes it easier to evade your enemies’ attacks? Can you understand other races, like the beastribes, when they clearly don’t speak the same language?

-Is that not normal?

-No, it isn’t. That power is called the Echo. We can teach you more about it, if you want. Our chief wants to see you first, before recruiting you, so you can make your choice then.

They were walking while talking, leaving Ul’dah for a more secluded place, not too far from the city but enough to not be heard or followed without noticing. Yda was clearly keeping an eye on their surroundings behind that mask of hers, making sure everything was alright for Papalymo to keep explaining. The day was slowly coming to an end, the sun setting its course behind the hills, and the temperatures were being nicer now. Lyreis was thinking at the same time about this Echo. A power that not anyone had. Visions from the past, or a few seconds in the future during a fight : she experienced them, and was sometimes left with a headache. If they could teach her about it, maybe train her, she could stop the pain from having them, control the visions. Maybe she could…

-Anyway, if you’re interested, you can find her in Vesper Bay, we have a small place of operation there called the Waking Sands. It’s near the docks, you’ll find a lalafell named Tataru Taru. Ask her and she’ll send you to us.

-It would be great to see you there, Lyreis! I’m sure the others will be happy to meet you and talk to you.

-Yda, this is not a simple meeting! Remember why we came here!

-Oh, right! But you will explain everything to our friend once she’s there, right Papalymo?

-I’m sure Minfilia will do the job better than I. So, what do you say, Lyreis?

The hyur was stopped once again while trying to put the pieces of the puzzle into their places. They needed her help, and didn’t seem to be bad people. They asked her nicely and explained things to her. They even offer to teach her about the Echo and everything else. Why would she refuse?

-Alright. I don’t see why I shouldn’t come. I’ll follow you.

-What, right now? Don’t you want to prepare your stuff first? Or maybe finish everything you have to do?

-I don’t have a mission right now. And I have everything on me. I’m ready.

-Al..alright then. Well you won’t need to bother Tataru then. Follow us, it’s not too far from here. Yda will go first to make sure everyone is ready.

-I’m on my way!

The young woman made a quick movement of agreement, and after waving to Papalymo and Lyreis, went quickly on a jog, going in the direction of Horizon. Lyreis remembered the place because she was sent there not too long ago, but she never went farther in this part of the Thanalan, so she had to follow Papalymo’s directions. The mage didn’t say much during their travel, maybe too focused on their travel, or maybe wondering what was hidden behind that mask Lyreis was constantly wearing. A face devoid of emotions, not linked to anything or anyone, having few opinions or will… He tried to have a background check on her, but even Thancred couldn’t find a thing about their soon to be new ally. She was blank, on everything, and that made him worry. What if it was all a trap or something? Maybe she was a spy sent by their enemies, or something akin to this? Thus was he thinking while they crossed Horizon and continued their way to Vesper Bay. But, if she wasn’t an enemy, and really had the power of the Echo, the power to counter the Primals… then he would be happy to use her, so his friends would stay safe.

Arriving at Vesper Bay, Yda was waiting for them on the docks in front of a house. She waved and waited for them to come closer.

-You didn’t take too much time, that’s great. I was afraid Papalymo and you would get lost somehow!

-Come on Yda, I’m not a child, I know the way pretty well. And our friend here would have protected me anyway. 

Nodding along the way, Lyreis followed the duo inside, after they greeted a pink lalafell who happened to be Tataru. She curtsy to Lyreis before opening the way to the real Waking Sands, hidden under the house. She was told to wait outside the office for a few minutes, just enough time for the people inside to get ready. Then, a feminine voice called her name, and she was greeted by the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, all waiting for her. She did not recognize most of them, only Yda, Papalymo, and Thancred she just met before. The blond woman in the middle welcomed her with a smile.

-Welcome, adventurer. I am Minfilia, the leader of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. I was waiting for you. Don’t worry, you’re surrounded by friends here.

[thecandywrites]

Monster March 2023 Day 16 Giant- Part 3

Hemi has His Pixie

So when I originally had this idea for this set of stories, surrounding Kisska Kiana and KaBoom, the firework vendor. I wrote, probably 100k of background lore for @momolady to use when I commissioned her for a set of commissions. And while she took a better and different approach to it than I originally had in mind, it actually worked out better.

But when I got this prompt. Because Hemi was an orc/goliath/giant hybrid. So it counts. Also this is the NSFW sexy smutty part.

The reason this took forever was I had part one and part three already done. It was that stupid middle to tie the two together was the hardest part. So think of this as the initial spark that started the commission and then fanfiction of my own commisssions. Which is why Obresh and The Ruby Empire, which solely belong to @momolady are mentioned.

But as always thanks to @borealwrites for their Monster March prompts. You're amazing.

Part 3

It took a week, but Pix finally came back around and apologized for losing her temper and tried to give his black balm back but he insisted that it was a gift given in good faith. And it would be a great honor to him if she kept it and used it. Which went a long way with her. And while they couldn’t immediately pick up where they had left off before the lapse in judgement. It was a start. 

And for the next six months, Hemi was eager to learn everything he could about Pix and her crew and Pix took him up to a colony herself and helped negotiate for him to get a good and proper map, like the kind she had. 

So now, here they were, a full seven months later, in the same tavern. She and her crew on one side while Hemi sat in the very middle of it. 

Pix sat in the booth at the tavern, watching Hemi arm wrestle patron after patron and making more money doing it than he ever did making money with KaBoom and his crew to “supplement” his dietary needs.  

Pix was celebrating in this very bar the fact that she had another full year under her belt as Head Guard for Kisska Kiana. Kisska could go anywhere and everywhere and was often booked up delivering babies at least six months in advance. It was a station that came with yet another hefty raise- which she was using to celebrate tonight. 

Pix had already ordered new armor with some of her raise and now she was feeling the full force of her joy and pride in the fruits of all her hard work and was going to be making better money from now on than she had ever made in her life because Kiana was an international household name.  

Kisska and her family delivered for Queens, Pharaohs, Empresses, Czarinas, Sultanas and especially Clan Chieftesses and Warchieftesses alike, along with nobility and commoner. The purses for delivering for the wealthy were huge, often at least a year, three years even five years worth of average man’s wages- just to deliver a prince or princess which only took her a few weeks of babysitting the mother and then a day or two of actual work to earn. 

Kisska was the best boss anyone could ask for. She was easy going, lenient, understanding and funny and was a sister to everyone but believed in personal boundaries and keeping her nose out of her employee’s business and she was easy to care for and guard because her reputation preceded her everywhere she went. It was the dream job. 

Rogan didn’t trust people easily but Pix had earned his trust along with everyone elses and every year that was another year on the road and another year of success, was just another year of proving that such a thing could be done and done successfully. And could be done to the point of quite a bit of profit. 

Pix had confidence that she had many more years like this one ahead of her too. And she took it as a great honor that Rogan entrusted his daughters, his precious first borns, to her and she took that responsibility very seriously and with her sisters in arms, who she herself trusted and put confidence in, it was a piece of cake and it was now that she and her fellow guards were in this very tavern celebrating, splitting three hogs and a whole keg of ale all on their own. 

Hemi was still there to deter any idiot from ever thinking about crossing or double crossing KaBoom or any other member of the crew or ratting him out or else they got to deal with Hemi and his fists and his own battleaxes which were larger than most men. Hemi was half orc and half giant and goliath hybrid. He was still a 10 foot tall of solid being of bulging muscle. 

He had gotten even more of those old school traditional hand chiseled tattoos from head to toe in the most jaw dropping gorgeous designs. Most men would either faint or die from the pain alone of having those tattoos. But Hemi wore them proudly. They were a story all their own and Pix could spend years studying them, if she could manage to get close to him to do so. Hemi was intimidating. He was the baddest of the bad, he was the epitome of Bad Ass Mother Fucker. He had a set of dire wolves he used to hunt with who she adored. She often would watch him set up his own crew’s tents and he could do twice the work the others could because he was twice as strong and twice as big. To Pix, over the last several months, she grew to view Hemi as a warrior god worth worshiping, which was saying something for her. And as much as she wanted to go ‘fuck it’ and just let her heart lead him the way his dogs always seemed to do. 

Pix was a massive orc woman herself. She was large and in charge and acted like the matriarchal elephant for Kisska’s crew, she knew every road, trail, hill, mountain, river and lake on the continent and she had an excellent sense of direction and how to get from place to place and had everything mapped out in her head and had even made her own maps in addition to the ones she bought. She kept the group together and on schedule. She was also a falconer as were her fellow guards, the breed of falcon- firehawks- they hunted in pairs and groups and they used said falcons to hunt and scout especially. 

But that wasn’t all, Pix had a massive bosom that would smother a normal human man and nearly did for most orc men and an ass you could set a tray on each buttscheek and was every bit as tough as Hemi was. She still wore her hair in a mohawk, shaved the sides of her head on a regular basis and wore a long single braid in the back that she stacked all of her beads on and often wore little else other than armor and lived in leather. 

Pix had caught Hemi staring at her for what felt like hundreds if not thousands of times since he started working with KaBoom. Each time, the ghost of a grin on his face when he watched her set up her own camp or spar with her fellow shield maidens to keep her fighting skills in tip top shape.

To Hemi- her fighting skills, in his own opinion, were better than his own because while he was big and pretty quick on his feet, she had accuracy and finesse and elevated fighting to an art form and to see her body in motion always did it for him. She was bigger than most orc males and she intimidated even them because she was every bit of a warrior and fighter they were if not more so and she had the scars to prove it and had her own tattoos, some of them the same old school chiseled kind on the back of her shoulders and especially in the very center of her back between her shoulder blades when Hemi had introduced her to the tattooists in his father’s village where he vouched for her to be worthy of receiving them. And Pix had taken them like a champ. And ever since, especially now that it was summer and hot- she now often wore leather halter tops to show them off when she wasn’t in full armor on the road. And to Hemi- she was a warrior goddess worth worshiping. 

But Hemi also knew that she was as fierce as she was beautiful and she had more honor than anyone, she had a great work ethic and he loved it that she was large and in charge. And he was also keenly aware that she was way too good for the likes of him. But he just couldn’t help but fall head over heels for her every time he saw her. And the more he observed her the more he picked up on the little things and details and her own personality. There was nothing that he saw of her that he didn’t like, even after all these months. 

But for her, it was always dissappointing trying to fuck any man because she was so big, it was hard for her to tell if any of them were even in her. Like throwing a hotdog down a hallway trying to lay with anything less than an orc and she was deemed impossible to please and that hurt her feelings. 

But she had caught Hemi getting hard watching her spar and watching her work and knew he was packing and with as much as she was drinking tonight, she had some liquid courage and with half a plan fueled by alcohol and some gassing by her fellow guards, she stood up after Hemi beat the last competitor, practically strutted over to Hemi across the bar, the patrons parting for her without a word because with her, it was halfway between a stomp and a strut and Hemi watched her every step of the way practically hypnotized by her and slammed her money down on the table. 

“It’s my turn!” Pix demanded as she placed her hands on the table facing Hemi jutting her chest out and showing off her heaving cleavage to him and smirked when Hemi got a good eyeful before his eyes raked up her body to her face. 

“Well alright then, finally a worthy opponent.” Hemi offered with a pleased grin as he gestured for her to sit down as he gathered her money and placed it to the side, impressed because it was all gold coins and her handful of gold coins were equal to his stacks of winnings in copper and a few silver- before she did, creaking the bench as she did so as the floors groaned having so much weight in one spot as the other patrons scooted away just in case the floor caved in. 

“So to anyone who doesn’t know, this is Pix, Head Guard for the one and only Kisska Kiana, best midwife on the continent.” Hemi announced to the crowd. 

“And you’re Hemi- Head Guard for KaBoom, the best soap and firework maker on the continent.” Pix added as she gestured to him as there was a round of applause. 

“So how’s things going Pixie?” Hemi asked before he saw Pix gristle at the jab. 

“The name is Pix or Boss Lady. Don’t call me Pixie.” Pix snarled warningly.  

“Why not?” Hemi asked semi- innocently because to him, she was his perfect manic pixie dream girl. 

“Because it’s Pix as in Pick Ax, I ain’t no Pixie, in fact I break every man’s jaw who has ever called me Pixie. So call me Pixie again and you’ll join them.” Pix warned before she put her arm up and set her elbow firmly on the table as the other patron’s ‘oohed’ at that as all her fellow guards nodded adamantly to that statement. Although she didn’t really want to break his jaw, she wanted to kiss, lick and bite it but she would break it to make her point. She was strong enough to take him on, either in the ring, the battlefield or the bedroom, which the later is what she really wanted in that moment. Now she just wanted and needed to know if he was her match because if he wasn’t she was shit out of luck and would have to consider fucking giants and goliaths. 

“Alright Pix,” Hemi nodded in understanding but now he was determined, if he could beat her, which he was fairly certain he would, he wanted to win the right to be the only man to call her Pixie and go unscathed because he’d be calling her that with all the love and devotion he had before he put his arm up on the table from having his hands rest on his massive thighs since he was flexing his arms and his chest for her benefit because he was already getting hard just having her this close, she smelled like sweat from hard work, smoke from campfires, ale, roast pig and spice on her breath and leather and iron from armor. Which was his favorite kind of perfume, his nose picked up on her scent and even her own body odor was telling him that she was in her prime and genetically a perfect fit, he wanted to bury his face in her bosom and then between her legs and give his tongue the work out it’s been craving since he first laid eyes on her. God the way she swung those battle axes or a broad sword damn near made him wax poetic and to see her spar made him swoon, and to see her exquisite body in motion as she worked was foreplay. She could hold her own and the way she took charge of her crew was beautiful. He was in a constant state of awe with her. They grabbed hands and she had the best grip. Oh gods she was still, so incredibly strong. She was perfect. And he was swooning and smitten already and his cock was hitting the underside of the table. 

“Ok guys, uh…on the count of three.” Loker, KaBoom’s right hand man who was a teifling and a general smartass said as he put his hands over theirs to hold them in the right spot and Hemi noticed that suddenly Pix had a wicked grin of her own like she knew something he didn’t.

That was his only warning that the next moments were not going to go how he thought they would. 

“1...2..3...Go!” Loker called out and let go and pulled his hands into himself so he wouldn’t get hurt before with lighting fast speed Pix pulled Hemi’s hand to her chest, planted it between her breasts, stood up but still stayed bent over, grabbed Hemi by the back of the neck and pulled his head closer and kissed him! Right on the lips! 

Everyone gasped while her fellow guards screamed their squeals and cheered in delight as Hemi instinctively froze, staring wide eyed and mouth slightly open as he sucked in a breath and her bottom lip before he realized she was kissing him and tried to kiss her back and let go of her hand so he could finally get a good handful of that bosom that had been tormenting him since he first laid eyes on her magnificent body before she pulled away, yanked his hand out of her cleavage and used her position to her advantage and slammed his hand down on the table as the whole place collectively Lost. Their. Shit. 

Hemi’s crew all stared in horrified awe that she had the balls to do that to him and were both impressed but almost terrified for her because Hemi could do some real damage to her and Rogan would see to it that all of them would be hacked to pieces by his own battleaxes if Hemi hurt her. 

But Pix just beamed the brightest, proudest smile at him as she picked up her own gold coins that she had put down but didn’t touch any of his own winnings and dropped them into the her top as the coins found their way into her massive cleavage. 

“Thanks for the kiss.” Pix cooed herself as she winked then turned and strutted out of the place as her fellow guards quickly went to the bar to settle up before they could join her and probably protect her from Hemi retaliating against her for that and quickly getting KaBoom’s crew to do the same so they could keep a disaster from happening. 

Hemi just stared in awed wonder at her, her own sashaying hips hypnotizing him for a moment as his brain spun as fast as a top because he was left reeling and his heart pounding while practically breathless because she stole that from him before it all clicked into place as he realized that if that wasn’t an invitation he didn’t know what was before he shoved the table back, his winnings going everywhere, his tankard spilling while his crewmates gathered his money before he stood up and stormed after her as his own crew used his winnings to settle up at the bar too so they could go and between all of them they might be able to keep him from doing something really stupid. 

Hemi broke the goddamn door jam getting out before he caught up to her. 

“Pixie!” He roared before she turned and she realized that was probably the stupidest thing she had ever done in her life. She uncharacteristically froze in place, just looking at his face which she couldn’t really read and not noticing how there was a fucking canon bulging in his pants before he grabbed her by the upper arms and pulled her to him and kissed her, like really, really kissed her. Clashing teeth and tusks and bites and sucks and battling tongues and moans and everything as he let go of her arms to wrap his arms around her and pulled her to him so hard it cracked her back while she stood on tip toe so that his cock’s bulge could hit her own mound as she threw her arms around his neck and surrendered to him completely before he pulled away, grabbed her around her waist and threw her over his shoulder like she was a sack of potatoes, like she didn’t weigh anything which impressed her greatly because she weighed a few hundred pounds herself. 

“You’re coming with me and you’re finishing what you started.” Hemi growled before he bit her ass as she squealed and cackled in delight and reached down to grab his own glorious ass and scratch up his back as he moaned a growl in return and spanked her which got her to squeal again and giggle with glee as he started to carry her off behind the bar just as both of their crews came out and she smiled and waived them off to go away before they both blew out a breath of relief but followed at a safe distance and listened more than watched since it was the middle of the night and the alley was dark as Hemi practically ripped her clothes off, the gold coins clattering on the ground once her gigantic bosom was released after he put her down and ripped his own pants off since he wasn’t wearing a shirt to begin with and they felt the impact on the wall when he picked her up and pinned her to the wall above him before they both moaned and keened when he entered her and listened to make sure she wasn’t telling him no or to get off her and once both crews realized she wanted this, they gave them their space and privacy.  

Pix had wrapped her legs around his waist in a vice like grip that was actually cutting off feeling in his lower half but that didn’t stop him or slow him down at all and Pix moaned when he had stretched her open and entered her until he buried himself in her to the hilt and for the first time in her life, she knew what to be stuffed and filled to the max felt like and felt the head of his cock hit the roof of her canal, no one had ever done that to her before. This was what she had been hoping for as Hemi buried his face into her bosom, tasting the salt of her skin and nipping and sucking especially at her large nipples as she threw her head back against the wall and keened in pleasure as her hands stroked his back and his shoulders and neck and head and his own massive tusks made sure he didn't actually get smothered by them and grateful he had caps on his tusks so they didn’t hurt her although he would die a happy man if he did get smothered by them.  

Finally, a woman, big enough to take him to the hilt and built both like a warrior goddess and a fertility goddess worth worshiping. He had never laid with a woman outside of his hometown and usually, because he was part orc, meant he was too small for them. But outside of his own goliath and giant hybrid town? He found he was too big for anyone else. 

But Pix? His Pixie? She was everything he could ever want. She was tough, she was a warrior, she had honor and confidence and pride and ability and skill and talent and ambition. His wolves loved her and they were excellent judges of character and always sniffed her out and the way she was with his wolves, sweet and kind and baby talked to them and loved on them and gave them pets and treats and scratches and cuddles and gentle but firm correction, he took that as a sign of how she would be with their future children. Once he set his eyes on her, he stopped using whores. All he wanted was her and now he had her. And what a treasure she was, well worth waiting for. 

Once he was done claiming her breasts with his mouth he changed his hold on her and put his hand behind her neck to grab the nape and sink his fingers into her hair and pull her face to him so he could keep kissing her until they both needed to break the kiss to catch their breath. 

"You will not break my jaw or any other part of me for calling you Pixie, I will be the only one who gets the privilege of calling you that and know that I do so out of love, respect and admiration and awe because I've had my eye on you since the moment I saw you. I've watched for the last seven months. And I’ve watched you very closely and I know you're strong, powerful, skilled and talented and smart and amazing. And I want you as mine and only mine. So I am going to earn the right to call you Pixie with no retaliation on your part by making you cum so hard and so many times you will swear you sprouted wings and are flying like a real pixie. You're My Pixie, and my own dream come true. Deal?" Hemi growled as he pounded himself so hard into her he could hear the wall start to crack behind her but she wasn't asking him to ease up. If anything she was writhing with pleasure and meeting his thrusts and clinging to him like her life depended on it as her keening cries of bliss filled his ears as his tusks pinned her throat to the wall, his bottom row of teeth between the tusks right over her voice box to make sure she could still breathe and that he wasn’t drawing blood as his hands kept an almost bruising hold on her bountiful ass and glorious thunder thighs and it took most of his strength to hold her up because she was amazingly thick with her own bulging muscle but the gods forbid he drop her as he could feel her breasts up against his neck and upper chest, as they almost choked him. But he loved it more than he could say and this was sweeter than any spoil. Her own strong arms were wrapped around his own neck and shoulders and her nails were like her own hawk talons and he was pretty sure she was drawing blood but that only enhanced the intensity of his own feelings and fueled the lust. 

"Ok. Deal. What do I get to call you then?" Pix panted breathlessly but couldn't wipe the smile off her face if she tried. She was already half way to her release. 

"You get to call me- heart, mind, body and soul- yours. Because all of me belongs to you just like all of you belongs to me. All your love and affection and your whole heart, mind, body and soul." Hemi specified as Pix almost started crying she was so moved by that surprisingly elegant and eloquent declaration of love. 

“Ok, but I ain’t leaving Kisska to be with you all the time.” Pix insisted. 

“Wouldn’t ask you to, we meet enough as it is, gives me a chance to miss you like crazy so we can fuck like this every time we come together again.” Hemi grunted and it was Pix who was left swooning. Damn. 

“Deal, only because you’re a warrior god worth worshiping.” She praised as she felt him smile. 

“Like wise Pixie.” He grunted as he powered an extra powerful thrust up into her. 

They fucked first and then made love in that alley all night long several times over, like they were making up for lost time and Pix lost track of how many times Hemi had gotten her to cum, her womanhood was almost constantly buzzing and Hemi had made good on his promise because she felt like she had sprouted wings and was flying half the time and he made her feel lighter than air. He was surprisingly tender in his affections, like he had been thinking about this and planning this for a long time. She was so touched and part of her wished she had worked up the courage sooner if this was what had been waiting on her all along. 

By the time they separated it was almost sunrise and they both had to get back to their camps, using the cover of daybreak to hide their nakedness and gather their shredded clothing, giving each other one last wonderful long kiss and a smack on the ass. 

“Pix?” Kisska whispered in horror when she saw Pix come into the tent, her clothes shredded and covered in bruises before Kisska gasped which woke up the other girls who gasped and immediately grabbed their weapons. 

“Who did this to you?!” Yasa, the crew’s cook demanded. 

“We’ll string him up by his testicles in the nearest tree!” Tysh, the gnoll, who was the crew’s seamstress yelled angrily before the other orcs woke up and started whistling and jeering and congratulating her which appalled and confused the others. 

“Go on, tell everybody what you did and how great it was.” Vix, Pix’s sister invited with a giggle. 

“Ok, so..” Pix blushed but her smile was unmistakable as she dropped her shredded clothes and walked over to her bunk and put on other clothes and talked on and on about it till a good hour past sunrise, all the girls getting cups of coffee and listened as Pix recounted it, her dreamy look and wistful tone revealed that she had wanted and welcomed this encounter with open arms and legs apparently and of course everyone’s biggest question was how big his cock was and once Pix gestured and estimated it, all the girls crossed their legs and grabbed their own pussies and hissed in pain at the thought of any of them trying to take on a monster like that and not die. 

“How did he not split you in half?!” Yasa asked. 

“That’s literally the size of most newborns.” Kisska said as she crossed her legs even tighter and covered her mouth in shock. But the fact that Pix could take it and take all of it and take Hemi to the base so that his huge and heavy ballsack slapped her taint and ass and revealed she was big enough to take it. 

“Hey! Pix!” The bar owner’s wife called out as they came to the tent and hit the knocker. 

“Yeah?” Pix called out.  

“You broke my bar! You need to pay for it!” She demanded. 

“What?” All the girls said as they quickly threw on robes and some shoes and answered the tent door as Kisska grabbed the group’s savings as the group of them came as the bar owner himself rounded up Hemi with his crew eager to see what he broke. 

“Holy fucking shit!!” All the girls exclaimed since they got to the scene first and saw that there was an impact that looked like a canon had fired and hit the wall. And there was a crack from the foundation to the roof! The guys quickly ran and got there as the girls grouped together and eyed Hemi warily and started whispering to each other and giggling like crazy. 

“Damn!!” The guys exclaimed as they saw it and inspected it, most of them laughing their asses off. Loker was actually on his knees, crying and wheezing from laughing so hard. 

This was the greatest thing he had ever seen with his own eyes. 

“Oh my gods, I gotta ask, I gotta know- How are you alive? How are you walking?” Loker asked Pix as he tried to recover. 

“Loker!” Mika frowned and smacked him upside the head and glared at him. 

Hemi was both impressed by his own power yet thoroughly embarrassed and wondered what Kisska would do or if Pix would get punished or anything and how he was going to make it up to her. 

“Are you ok?” Hemi asked Pix thoughtfully as he pulled her aside. 

“Her back is covered in bruises!” Yasa hissed. 

“Oh no, I’m so sorry Baby.” Hemi apologized as he reached out and rubbed circles into her back tenderly. 

“Oh, pfft, I’m fine, I earned those last night.” Pix waived off with a proud smile. 

“So how you wanna do this?” Pix asked as she nodded over to the wall. 

“Because I realize I started it and we both finished it so I’ll pay for half of the damages if you’ll pay for the other half.” Pix offered. 

“Nah, I got it. Save your money Sweet Thing.” Hemi rumbled as he snaked his arm around her and pulled her in as all the girls suddenly became aware that he was getting hard agian since they had been sneaking peeks at his crotch trying to figure out he carried a monster like his in his pants and it was kind of almost at eye level for them. 

“Wow, ok, we’re just gonna go away now.” Kisska said as she gathered the rest of her crew and guided them out of the alley as they all erupted into giggles.

“Do you like have a pussy of iron or…?” Loker asked before Hemi went to hit him and he ducked and got away out of Hemi’s reach as KaBoom smacked Loker on the side of the head before he got the rest of his men out of there before Hemi handed over his money to the bar owner before they left and that left them in the alley alone before Hemi got a peek at her back before she brought him back to her camp since both of them could fit in the wagon which she quickly used all her bedding to turn it into a giant bed for them where they both caught up on their sleep before and after making love again where Hemi tenderly kissed every mark he put on her and offered to hurt himself twice as much which Pix thought was sweet but not necessary and just wanted to be held and was happy that he was able to wrap both arms around her and she got to be the little spoon for the first time ever. 

Meanwhile KaBoom and Kisska got breakfast, not really sure what to say to each other as they just stared at it. 

“You’re...not hung like he is are you?” Kisska finally whispered. 

“Gods no, I think Hemi is the only thing on two legs hung like he is.” KaBoom shook his head adamantly. 

“Oh thank the gods, because damn, that’s...I don’t...like...that would kill me. I am not built for anything like that.” Kisska admitted as she downed her spiked coffee. 

“I didn’t think any woman was built to take that either to be honest.” KaBoom admitted which made them both snort a laugh. 

“Well the story I got from her was that it was wanted and apparently needed and enjoyed so we’re all good there.” Kisska assured him. 

“Oh good, because I and everyone else on my crew is still scared shitless of your dad and to be honest, your brothers too and we were just all terrified he was going to hurt her and the rest of us would be on the run for the rest of our lives- even though we all know there isn’t a rock or a crevice we could hide in or under that they wouldn’t find us in.” KaBoom confessed as Kisska nodded with a grimace. 

“Yeah..that’s true. I mean at first- to see her coming in- naked- her leather clothes are shredded in her hands and covered with bruises, we all were grabbing every weapon we could reach but the smile on her face and the happy wistful sigh she gave had us all reconsidering our own blood thirst and we must have drank like ten pots of coffee between us as we all listened to every detail and every single one of us was crossing our legs and grabbing our own pussies in pain at the very thought of being in her shoes because he could and would kill us if he tried to have sex with any of us and we would just be a cock sleeve at that point, push all our guts out of…” Kisska began before KaBoom cut her off with a grunt of pain and held his hands up as he looked physically sick and pained. 

“Ah! Stop stop stop.” He pleaded. 

“So, I take it, we get to be closer than ever huh?” Kisska hinted hopefully. 

“That would be great if at all possible.” He admitted before she reached out and held his hand with both of hers. 

“I really like you. And I know you like me back. And I know that with your third business, you can’t really settle down anywhere because you need to always be on the road, just like me. And I’m never going to ask you to give that up because it’s the third that is technically your bread and butter so to speak. Just..if we get closer and our two crews end up becoming one crew. Just keep me and my girls safe ok? And as much as your third business has boosted mine because of certain high profile clientele, I know that’s a lot to ask for of Hemi and even Pix and the others. Just please, keep me and my girls out of the third ok? I understand if the wives or mistresses or whatever of whoever you’re dealing with need midwives, I’m your girl. But otherwise. I don’t want to be involved in that if we get involved ourselves ok? Because for the last six months every time our crews meet up, it’s hard to tell where one starts and the other ends and with what happened last night, that’s gonna get harder and harder to do.” She offered. 

“I would never dream of putting you or your sisters, both by blood and bond in danger Kisska.” KaBoom promised. 

“Thank you.” She thanked him before she partially stood up and pressed a sweet kiss to his lips which he was happy return. 

“I won’t let you down.” He vowed. 

“I know you won’t.” She smiled happily before she slid around the booth and snuggled up to his side. 

“So guess what I heard from the whorehouse?” She grinned once their food was brought to them. 

“That Hemi’s hung like a canon?” He guessed. 

“Well, yeah, we know that now. But I heard that the only way to beat a nettle is with someone else’s dick.” Kisska murmured with a mischievous grin before it was KaBoom’s turn to bark out a loud laugh which got Kisska to laugh with him because it was KaBoom’s laugh, that was booming, just like his beautiful fireworks that Kisska always liked the most. That and with her line of work, meant she heard and then got to repeat every dirty joke she heard till KaBoom was either crying and or on all fours, or clutching his gut from laughing so hard and so much before he pressed a sweet kiss to the crown of her head as he was happy to keep her all cuddled into his side, which they rarely got to do, but enjoyed every chance they got. And now that Pix and Hemi could be together, now Kisska had no reason to not make the two crews one crew officially. And now, they could afford to buy or at least make proper houses on wheels so they could stay and keep doing things the way they had before but with more comforts of home. Until they could find a truly perfect home for them all. 

[xiv-wolfram]

Treasure - Comic Script

Post ARR - Patch 2.2

Wolfram wants to help General Raubahn relax.

Technically Hullbreaker is 2.3 but in my canon this happens after the meeting of the Syndicate to discuss the Doman refugees..

Catch up on my WoL Comics (Chronological List)

This is the script for a future comic. Posting for those who don’t want to wait to get the story. Numbers indicate frame number.

Wolf walking up to Raubahn at the Hall of Flames. Narrator - "Wolfram went to Ul'dah for a meeting with the Sultana and the Syndicate to discuss the Doman refugees. During which he sensed that General Raubahn, his former partner and current commanding officer, was under more stress than usual. After the meeting the Warrior of Light has a proposition to help him relax."

Rau smiles broadly and makes a welcoming gesture - "Wolfram! I’m glad to see you stuck around after the meeting! There were some topics of import I could not discuss with the Monetarists listening. I was about to head to the Quicksand for my first meal of the day …would you care to join me?” 

Wolf smiles - "Actually, I stayed because I have something I'd like to ask for your aid with. Yet a meal would be most welcomed!” Thought - ‘It’s well into the afternoon and he hasn’t eaten. I’d wager this is a common occurrence of late.’

A) Rau beams - "Of course! I’d be pleased to help however I can!” B) Rau catches himself and smiles awkwardly. Thought - ‘I sound much too eager for someone who has work to do… yet he did help us to save Eorzea. Surely any request will be for the good of the realm.’ Say - “ …anything for Hydaelyn’s Champion, of course." 

A) Wolf beams and gestures excitedly - "Excellent! I’ve been told a possible location of the pirate lord Mistbeard's stash. I’ll admit it’s not terribly important in the grand scheme of things, yet it should not take more than a few days. I believe we’re both due for a bit of fun." Wolf grins - "Raubahn Aldynn, would you like to go on a treasure hunt with me?"

Rau surprised, taken aback - "A treasure hunt?! Just the two of us?" Thought - ‘Perhaps I misinterpreted his concerns about professionalism?’

Wolf smiles awkwardly - "Aye, we wouldn't get to keep the treasure, but it’s not as if you need the gil. And I’m told the island is crawling with ferocious beasts, which sounds like our idea of a good time. This is if Ul'dah is able to spare you, of course." Thought - “Did I just say our?! Idiot!”

Rau surprised but smiling - "Y-yes that sounds like great fun! I'll make arrangements with Roaille. She threatened just yesterday that if I didn’t take a break she would force me to." Thought - 'A bit of adventure is exactly what I need! It'll be nice to spend some time together as well.'

Zoomed out shot walking onto the street outside Flame HQ while smiling and conversing.

Zoomed out shot of Hullbreaker Isle Beach.

Walking up the path toward the lemurs.

They shoo away the lemurs. (comically)

Lemurs running into the foliage as they laugh.

Zoom out. They continue along the path, talking.

A) Close up of a trap. B) Rau close up, wincing to indicate he stepped in the trap. Thought - ‘Ugh, he’s distracting.’

A) Close up Wolf, worried - "Aw hells! I should have expected traps. Are you alright?" B) Rau nods, wincing - "Aye I'm splendid. " (sarcastic)

Wolf kneeling down, opening the trap. Rau puts a hand on Wolf’s head for balance as he shifts his weight to the free foot. 

Rau sits on the ground. Wolf kneeling, holding Rau’s leg but looking at his face with a smirk - "Good to see you've retained that sense of humor. Thought - 'And his good looks…Godsdammit don't think about that!’

Rau grins - “Alright then mage - are you going to heal my leg or are you content to hold it while mocking me?”

Wolf chuckles - “Eh, fine. I suppose I could spare some aether for the man I kidnapped and brought to a deserted island!” Rau laughs - “Now who’s the jester?”

Wolf holds his aether focus in left hand and hovers his right hand over Rau’s leg. Dim green light around his right hand. Rau watching Wolf, beaming. Thought - 'He's quite skilled… I don't feel a thing. It’s beautiful…the spell.'

Fighting Sasquatch. Rau driving down with a vertical slice as Wolf is casting.

Rau shields Wolf as he uses VerHoly.

Further along near the cave area, they've stopped. Snacking (/apple) and talking.

A) Wolf looking tired - “- so now everyone wants the Scions’ help. It’s exhausting. And they’re oft working an angle.” B) Rau smiles sadly, looking away - “I’m sorry Wolf… I didn't realize how much work you lot were taking on. I feel bad for asking so much of the Scions now.”

A) Rau frowns - “Things in Ul’dahn are becoming increasingly difficult to handle and I know not where to turn, yet I didn’t mean to strain your resources.” B) Wolf surprised, waving his hands /deny - “No! No! Not you Rau!”

A) Wolf blushes and smiles awkwardly - “You’re an exception. I’m always happy to help you! ” B) Rau beams - “Oh! Well in that case, you have my thanks. Yet I must insist you tell me if I ask for too much.”

A) Wolf grins - “Yes sir!” B) Raubahn blushes and looks away. Thought - ‘Aw hells Raubahn! Don’t think about that!’

Fighting the Kraken. Rau rushes to one tentacle with Intervene. Wolf rushes the other with Corps-a-Corps.

Raubahn uses Rage of Halone on his tentacle. Wolf uses Enchanted Redoublement on his.

Raubahn blocks a tentacle from slamming down on Wolf as he uses VerFlare on the main body.

After defeating the boss. They’re sitting against a tentacle, tired. The main body has fallen beneath the water.

A) Rau beaming - "You were right, this was great fun! Everything has been so tense in Ul'dah lately. It's been a long time since I've been able to get out like this. Thank you, Wolfram." B) Wolf beams - "No, thank you! I know I'm supposed to be this mighty Warrior of Light fellow, but much of the job is dreadfully lonely. I appreciate your company, genuinely.” Thought - ‘I hope Rau changes his mind about the whole professionalism thing… Rhun’s been so busy lately he can’t even answer his linkshell. I truly miss having a close friend. I happen to be madly in love with this one, but I’m sure that won’t cause any problems.’

A) Rau smiling awkwardly - “Well I'd hate for you to be lonely…after all you've done for Eorzea I mean. Pray, ask me along anytime. Although…I must admit, I’m surprised you didn’t bring one of the Scions." Thought - ‘Sounds like he does want to be friends after all?’ B) Wolf smiles awkwardly - “The Scions are great, but they’re so young that it’s hard to see them as peers.”

A) Wolf frowns - “Well, except Papalymo. He’s around our age… yet I do not like how he speaks to others. Especially Yda." B) Rau ponders - "I don’t know the man well… merely by his reputation as a powerful mage. Yet you have a kind heart and are a good judge of character. I don’t see a reason to force yourself to be around someone you don’t enjoy.”

A) Wolf smiles warmly - “Aye, I’d rather spend my limited time with those who can brighten my day. And hopefully I theirs? B) Rau smiles - “If that is your criteria - then I certainly look forward to our next adventure.”

Catch up on my WoL Comics (Chronological List)

[ifyougochasingrabbits]

TW: Joking about being murdered. Feat. Zallah

Serpentile Alchemist steps down the stairs languidly, blinking the sleep from his eyes. With a stifled yawn, his eyes settle upon a smaller figure in the distance--- clad in all white... Rabbit ears outside of the Gold Saucer? Walking past, his focus is trained on her momentarily, amused by the outfit. Snickering, "A little early for All Saints' Wake, aren't you?"

White had been leaning against the stone railing, one leg crossed over the other at the ankle while her gaze lazily danced to and from the people who dotted the floor below. That was until she heard a voice. A familiar one. She turned her attention over, past her shoulders at the man. "...little. Snake?" Her brows lifted above amused filled eyes that squinted by her cheek rounding smirk. She straightened her arms, pushing herself to stand at her full height of small. "Is that really you? So they haven't had you for lunch~." Turning around she rested her rump against the railing, holding it with both hands.

Serpentile Alchemist felt himself perk right up, the weariness of the workday be damned, upon hearing that nickname. Seemed a bit odd though, recognizing her but not in her entirety. "Well, the names Zallah," he countered, inching closer, "Look at you... I like what you've done with your hair."

"I know your name, you silly little snake~" White repeated the nickname, leaning her head one way, but only a little. "Do you remember mind?" Slipping a hand under several locks of hair she pushed it forward, over her shoulder. "Do you? Really? Truly like it? I cut it myself." She gave him a once— no, a twice over making a couple notes to add to the ones that sat collecting dust in her head. "You were comin' from the guild. And you're gooooin'?"

"No, I don't," Zallah ventures, startlingly honest about it, "Don't think I ever got it. Knew you by your working name alone, me thinks." He nods thrice over, sucking in his lower lip to chew on it... not that it was visible. "I don't remember that either, no. Yeah, looks good. Frames your face real nice. Do you tie it up? I think that'd look nice, too. Like them little buns you see lots of girlies do." Zallah paused, realizing he hadn't answered the last question. "Nowheres in particular, really. Was thinking of wandering aimlessly until someone stabs me for being in the wrong place at the wrong time."

White slapped her fingers to the flat of her chest, gasping! "You wound me!" He didn't. The chuckle told him as much unless it didn't. "It doesn't matter. It's not my name anymore. No matter how much others might repeat it." Taking one knee-locked step forward she moved beside him, bending a little at the waist as she clasped her hands behind her. She looked up at his face, smiling. "I do! Put it up in buns. They look very cute. I'd even say the cutest! In fact. I just did~" White straightened herself up. "That'd be messy. And then you might die. You can't feed your snakes if you're dead. Unless they eat you instead. Then you'd have to die near them. Or have someone bring you. To them." Her rambling came to a stop, blinking her wandering gace back up to his. "You could go into the lane. They do that there."

"Shall I salt it? Will that make it feel nice and better for you? I hardly remember your face," Zallah says, smiling with all teeth. Again, not visible. "But I do remember the way you move. What a refreshing breath of air you are in these dull, dull halls. Why're you dressed like that? On your way to a party? You certainly are most entertaining." He mulls over her suggestion, making a grimace. "I want my blood to sully where no man's blood has been spilt before, the Gods-damned Lane is full of the stuff. No, thank you."

White almost spat out a short laugh. "You could add some pepper too!" She grinned. Then his words sparked an idea. Leeeeaning in she lowered her voice into something more hush-like, joking, "How about the Sultana's chambers?" It rose as she did, both arms swinging out as she went on, "At the bottom of the sea! Or. Would the surface of the moon suit you better? No. But the Quicksand might~"

Zallah had to think on it, he found himself pacing left from right... stroking his face covering. His tail moved in a fluid motion, side to side--- eager. "The surface of the moon--- there's an idea to strive for... Ah, to be the first man slaughtered on the moon..." He shivered with anticipation. "Now to find a suitable butcher..."

White watched and listened. She listened and watched, the smirk quick to grab the corner of her lip, curling it yet again. It wasn't going to be the last time. "Who'd be the most. Suit-a-ble." Her fingers step, step, stepped to her words around the backside of his waist, asking, "For you? Someone tall? What about long hair? Or short hair. Blue eyes? Brown? Black?"

Zallah stepped forward, confidently lifting himself up and onto the stone barrier while facing her. "Tall... Handsome... Dark hair... Ought to have big arms and even fatter tits. I ought to be thrilled while I'm getting gutted, of course. I can't imagine anything worse than being miserably bored while being murdered."

White let a person come to life in her head with each and every description he shared. Then. She made a puzzled face when it formed into a face she had been looking for before she heard the snake's voice in her horns. She gave her head a small shake, chuckling, "I couldn't!" as she stepped up to where he sat, placing her hands on the railing at either side of him.

"I'd rather die in my sleep, if that were the case. 'Least I'd be dreaming." Zallah placed his hands ontop of hers. Trapped. :)

"What would you want to dream about? A pretty butcher?" White was trapped! Or was she? "On the moon?"

"Oh, maybe I'd get a little kiss. Maybe more than a kiss. That'd be a very different dream, then."

"That's one way to get stabbed. Some would say even the best way."

"Mhmm... I should hope it has me screaming." Then, Zallah circles back around to the topic. "Have you still not answered me as to why you're dressed like that?"

White wiggled her fingers on one hand under his, not to break free, but as if she was tapping them. "To catch people's attention. To make them look. Or ask! It worked, didn't it~?"

Zallah grinned behind the mask. "So it has." He liked it, and thus approved of it. "It suits you, strangely enough. Charming."

"It does! Suit me. Per-fect-ly." And nothing anyone could say could change White's mind. She smiled wide. Up at him. Leaning in as she teased, "Do you still go? To the Minaudiere. And talk about those noodles of yours?"

Zallah shook his head. "No, I haven't been to the baths in quite some time." Though... now that she mentions it, the idea did seem alluring. Perhaps that's just what he's needed after today. "No one listens like you do!" He sighs, dramatically. Then, leaning in with a bit of cheek he says with a loud whisper, "Well, no one apart from a new lover of mine. He'll listen to me go on and on--- and better still, he'll do it for free." He was teasing, but not lying.

White grinned, proud-like. She leaned in too, threatening to smoosh the tips of their nose or knock heads if either weren't careful. "If he ever gets bored." Her lips shrunk into a smirk as she teased back, "Of listenin'. You could fill my horns again. I'm not hard to find~" Unless she didn't want to be.

"I'll consider it," White practically purrs, "More's the merrier, even if he isn't bored of it. I do enjoy a willing ear or horn." He released her hands finally, shifting so as to pull himself away from the railing. "I'll be off to tell him of my plans in regards to getting murdered. He'll be most displeased at the prospect, I think."

White flipped her hands over to take hold of his, spinning them around. She took his spot. Or she would have if she hopped up onto the railing. It didn't matter, they stood in opposite spots, her staring up at him with yet another smirk. Told you there'd be more. "Tell him it'll be on the moon. Maybe he'll be happier. Unless you want him displeased. Then you can tell him it'll be behind the Quicksand. Or in it. Beside it?"

"He'd sooner dispatch the would-be killer, I think." Zallah let out a wolfish laugh. "I'll be telling him about you, thats for certain." He gives her hands a bit of a squeeze before releasing them. "Perhaps we'll meet again." Then, he asks, "What are you called now, if not by that previous name?"

White's arms swung to her sides, easing back for her palms to press against the curve of the railing. "Careful. He might want to meet me~" she said with a tilt of her head and a grin. "I'm sure we will. I have a feelin'." At his question her features softened, but the smile didn't fade. "White Rabbit. That should be easy to remember. Even for snakes."

"I do like fluffy, white rabbits!" Zallah chirped, proceeding to saunter off. A grin to his voice, "The city is large, and yet so, so little." Then, laughing, he called out, "What? And miss the chance to have you meet him? No, no. I insist, should he ever want to meet you he shall!"

White lifted a hand, smiling a little wider. Just a little. She gave him her often given fingery farewell stating, "I'll see you." It almost sounded like a threat. When he could no longer be seen she turned back around, returning her lazy leaning on the stone railing to people watch.

[wickershells]

can i talk (see: overshare) about my grandparents for a second. my first granddad (paternal) died when i was around 2 or 3 and i have virtually no memory of him besides what was told to me by others; for example how drunk he got at the news i was a girl and how, when he came in to see me, our flushed cheeks matched. his wife, my grandma, worked as a seamstress for a time before they married and moved temporarily to germany. they were born in 1942 and 1944 — war babies. he had innumerable health problems (including his lungs — from working in the mines as a teen, before his mandatory military service) and one day, he insisted my grandma spend the day with her sister, swore that he was fine, said he was just going to watch tv for a while. when she came back she thought he was napping. later, she would think that he knew, and he didn’t want her to be there when he went, and that this was his final act of love. out of everything wrong, the doctors labelled it heart failure — just like they would 18 or so years later, when she died, too. she was my only grandparent left at the time, and i would visit her every friday after school for lunch. she had this really beautiful house with really beautiful rose wallpaper and deep brown floors. she used to make a sultana fruit loaf, and it was my dad’s favourite dessert, and later when i scrambled together fragments of her recipe to make it myself, he smiled and said it tasted just like hers.

my gran & papa (maternal) died in 2007 and 2009 respectively, both of copd. she had been married to a man before him, an abusive man, and ran from him to be with my papa. she was a bus conductress and he had been the driver. they were pack-a-day smokers for most of their lives. she died on his birthday, december 6th, and i remember pretty vividly my mother telling me not to wish him a happy birthday when we visited; his face was dark and sunken and his hands were on the kitchen counter as he faced the wall. it was the same kitchen his wife would always sneak money or some almond nougat into my hand as i kissed her cheek (apparently, i was her favourite). my mum said he simply stopped trying to live after she died, and soon enough he was in the hospital for the same reasons, dying early morning christmas day. i was in bed with my parents because i couldn’t sleep (restless from excitement) and i woke to what i thought was the sound of my mum laughing. she went to the hospital, kissed him goodbye, then came home to spend time with us. my aunt said that our gran had asked for her husband as a christmas present, and god had given her what she wanted; we buried him in his favourite suit, a pack of cigarettes in his pocket, just like he wanted.

[adair-kiba]

Azami Lives AU - A short story about a mother's worry and meeting someone new!

This would be the AU where Adair's mother, Azami, doesn't die of pneumonia after Coerthas freezes (that being the final catalyst to get Adair to leave the area looking for a place he can make a living in my normal canon for him).

She is still anxious about heading towards Ishgard after losing her husband and friends in the massacre of the group of Au Ra soon after she came there. And she hates the cold. So, she encourages Adair to go on his journey towards the south knowing he's still healing from what happened to him in Dravania as a kid, and she ventures towards Idyllshire interested in what the goblins and traders are doing out there - being a retired merchant herself.

A few years pass, with minimal contact from Adair. Just a letter every few months. She has a vague idea of what happened through ARR with the group (Scions) he's partnered with. She hasn't seen him since he left home.

---

One day when visiting the Idyllshire markets, a Lalafell merchant tells her of the news from Ul'dah - how the sultana was poisoned and the Warrior of Light, Adair, was accused.

Azami panics, and rushes to find the closest delivery moogle hoping to find a letter from her son that the moogle hasn't cared to deliver yet.

The moogle did have one, actually! A recent letter Adair had written soon after fleeing to Camp Dragonhead. He told her that he was safe despite what she may hear. That he's innocent but has to stay out of public sight for a while, and not to worry because despite all the turmoil at least he got to spend time with a dear friend who he had recently started dating.

Reassured, but no less worried for the only son who had contacted her at all in recent years, she readied her chocobo for the long journey through the cold.

She sent a letter to him letting him know she was on her way, and hurried across the snow in her warmest coat.

Finally, she makes her way to the fort keeping her son safe. Azami is anxious to meet him after the several years he's been away. She worries his situation is worse than he let on (it was from what gossip she's heard on the way!), and she's afraid his partner isn't treating him with the kindness he deserves. He had insisted he was happy in his letter, but a mother still worries.

As she hesitates, she hears a shout, "Ms Kiba!! Welcome!" A knight in silver armor with matching hair calls out to her brightly through the cold wind.

She strides over to the friendly knight, an enticing warmth radiating from the building behind him. 'This must be the cheerful young man Adair mentioned in his last letter,' she thinks to herself.

"Truly wonderful to finally meet you, ma'am! Adair said you would be arriving soon," the knight takes one of her gloved hands in his own in a friendly greeting, "he's currently out collecting some ingredients for the feast we will be holding to welcome you... as soon as you are settled in of course!"

Azami smiles at the Elezen and laughs softly, "What a surprise he's off in the woods, that boy hasn't changed! You're Haurchefant, yes? My son spoke warmly of you in his last letter, I can see now the flattery is well deserved."

She spends quite a lot of time in Camp Dragonhead, using her growing skill as a weaver to help mend and make clothes for the fortress's residents and working with the cooks to add new, interesting flavors to their hearty meals. It becomes her new home after the events in Heavensward kick into gear. She becomes very fond of her future son-in-law, and when he passes she is heartbroken for her son (and, as a fellow parent, Edmont - having followed his journey into admitting his past failings as a father and beginning to rebuild his relationship with his son on a foundation of forgiveness).

Now, she lives in the Firmament - helping the local traders there expand their connections to the other city states of Aldenard, and eventually to some of her old connections in Othard and Ilsabard. And, of course, doting on her grandson Ori!

-End

[holiday-in-eorzea]

Making My Way

Once outside the Quicksand, I found a quiet corner, and pulled out the tomestone, to experiment with what I could figure out from it, and the number of icons it offered. Ravnica had many devices in general circulation, primarily from the Izzet League, but I was unfamiliar with a lot of them, and technology had not progressed too much in other realms that I had visited. If Kolya was here, he may be able to help me make sense of it, but until I could figure out how to get home, I was on my own.

I prompted the information icon again, aiming more towards myself and the now familiar readout appeared: “Liya Al-amundi”. I noticed with annoyance that the capitalisation was wrong on my matron-name. I assume that's how it had been registered in Momodi's book, and wondered if there was a way to correct it. There was no title, and the race designator listed “Hyur, Midlander”. Where the further information was displayed, when previously it had shown Momodi's, everything was garbled; I couldn't make heads or tails of it. It didn't match any script that I'd learnt or even seen over my years. I wondered briefly about returning to Momodi, and asking about it, but then worried that it may be revealing information that was best kept to myself. But it was interesting to know that, at least here, I to be myself amongst strangers without the need to remember a guise. I would just have to guard my words more carefully. I took an opportunity to surreptitiously sweep the area and updated my knowledge for the majority of races that I could see, hoping to avoid any future conflict.

During the time taken with Momodi's welcome, and my registration with the Adventurers' Guild, the early signs of dusk had overtaken the sky, as night was falling. In the dimmer light, I noticed a glowing crystal next to the guild and wondered if that might be the aetheryte that Momodi had mentioned. Pulling out the tomestone and giving it a quick scan revealed it to be an aethernet shard, with a note that it would be useful to attune to these, owing to their use as a method of guidance in larger areas.

I held my hand out to touch it, but before it could even get there, light shone from the crystal into my hand. Shocked, I tried to pull away, but it was held there by some invisible force. Moments later, the blue light faded, and with that my freedom was gained. The tomestone made a noise, and a small light blinked. Activating it, I found that part of the city map had revealed itself, and been preserved within, providing an more akin to the street maps that I was accustomed with from utilising Ravnica's public transport system. It seemed these aethernet shards would be most useful, if I could find more, though I wondered why it had forced such a connection to just display a map. I turned, and made my way down the street, following signs and the tomestone's map before spotting a familiar face. Although the dark of night had arrived, Wymond had not left the streets, nor had he removed the shaded lenses covering his eyes. Surely, I thought, that would make things harder to see. And if not for the glow of lamp lights throughout the city, I suspected I would have been correct.

“Oh, hello. I didn't expect to see you again given the size of this place.”

Wymond laughed. “So how're you takin' to Ul'dah? Make any new friends in high places yet? Hah! Well, when you have the sultana's ear one day, I hope you won't have forgotten about ol' Wymond!”

I smiled, and shook my head. “I would never. You've already been a great help, even when you had no reason to.”

He scratched the back of his head, sheepishly. “I reckon anyone would've done the same. Least they should. Anyroad, 'long as you're here, mayhap you can do me a favour an' take this missive to Josias at the Platinum Mirage. It's just over yonder, an' the man will even give you some gil for your trouble. If only all work in the city was this easy, eh?” He laughed to himself again and produced an envelope from a coat pocket.

“I appreciate the effort, though surely wouldn't be easier to just deliver this yourself?”

He nodded. “True as may be, but how would you ever learn? An' also there is the reward, so it's not like you're just doin' this for nothin'.”

“Fair enough, I suppose.” I took the letter from his hands, and secured it in a small pocket on my top.

I glanced down the street towards the building advertised as the Platinum Mirage, and saw a curious sight: an unknown creature, floating on air. It almost appeared like a cat, with pure white fur but without the same proportionate limbs, a pair of purple bat wings stuck out from its back that flapped lazily, at a rate I would've thought impossible to maintain flight, and from its head emerged a pink ball of fuzz, which had started to glow in the evening light. I had no reason to make a gawking nuisance  of myself, so a quick scan with the tomestone revealed the creature to be a “Moogle”. The further information stated that they were descendants of fairies. I wondered if Yri knew any from her home plane that she would be able to tell me about. IF I ever figured out how to get home again.

The Platinum Mirage revealed itself to be a training arena of sorts for the Pugilists' Guild - people who would take to combat with nothing other than their physical prowess and bare arms. I questioned the thought; a sword and shield had always served me best, even though my skills were somewhat out of practice in times of peace. Magic had always served as a backup of course, but ever since Tarkir, I had always felt more comfortable with a firm blade than relying on other methods. Entering the guild, I was struck with smell of earth and sweat; showing just how much these people emphasized their physique. Over the side of a small barricade, I could see groups of people sparring with each other. Again, I found myself considering the combat style in the heat of a battle, and weighing up its effectiveness. But if people were dedicated enough, they might be able to prove a surprising tactical unit in the field. Shaking memories of military command from my mind, I turned towards the counter where another Lalafell and a human, or I assumed “Hyur”, judging by my own scan, waited at what a small sign indicated was a guild registration counter. “Hi,” I said, approaching. “Is one of you Josias?” The Lalafell pointed to his companion who responded.

“Yes, do you have business with the Platinum Mirage this evening?”

I pulled out the envelope that Wymond had given me. “I believe this is for you.”

Josias observed the seal on the back. “Ah, a missive from Wymond. Alright then, let's have a look...” He opened the envelope, and quietly read aloud. “'Bird is barren, let the hounds feast.'” He sighed. “So it goes.”

He noticed I had overheard and cleared his throat. “Oh, this? Well you see, the guild is often contracted to provide protective services. Unfortunately for this particular petitioner, Wymond's investigation has revealed his finances to be.... wanting.”

“What could someone have to worry about within the walls of the city?” I asked. “Surely with this size, there would be a town guard, or militia of some kind to maintain peace?”

The man scoffed. “There's all sorts of merchants and ruffians who, while on the side of law and order, skirt closer to the line than most are comfortable with. Maybe adventurers like you don't mind working for free, but we have a business to run. I myself have four mouths to feed at home, so this bird will have to fend for himself, I'm afraid.”

“Isn't there anything you can do? If the petitioner in question is that desperate for protection, isn't it an issue worth looking into?”

Josias shrugged, handing over a small bag of coin. “He could always ask the sultanate guard for protection and take his chances that way, or sort himself out like most Ul'dahns do.” I must've shown a look of shock on my face, or maybe disgust, as he protested. “Ugh, look - I'll see what I can do, but I can't make any promises. Just take your reward and have a good evening.”

I took the small bag, realising my place. “Thank you, and yes that would be appreciated. For my own peace of mind, if nothing else.”

The main street shone with a bright blue light that filled the building opposite the guildhall. I couldn't believe I didn't notice it earlier. The building had no doors, leaving it open to the general public. Within, a massive version of the aetheryte shard I could only assume to be the crystal that Momodi had mentioned. It took up the centre of the room it was easily 20 or 30 feet tall. The blue light it emitted covered the room such that there was no need for lamplight assistance, though it did give everything an ominous glow.

I reached out to touch it, similar to the smaller shard. It felt like my arm was being grabbed by a powerful force, again leaving unable to move away, but stronger this time; almost like it was trying to pull my mind as well, as my vision began to tunnel towards the crystal. The same blue light diffused into my arm. Memories filled my mind; places far away, things that I thought I had forgotten in my long years. It felt like ages in my own mind, though simultaneously I was aware that it was brief moments before the shock of the sudden release.

A voice called out from behind. “Hail, adventurer! Might you have come at the behest of Miss Momodi of the Quicksand?”

I turned to see a Lalafell man approaching me, clad in a guard outfit bearing the emblem of the city that flew on the flags topping some of the buildings around. “Excellent. Which brings us to the matter of the attunement fee - that will be 100,000 gil, if you please, madam.”

I stepped back reflexively; I wasn't sure how much money I had been given, but I doubted it would account to that much. The man burst into laughter. “...AHAHAHAHAHAHA! Apologies, but I do so relish the opportunity to make that jest. The look on your face was absolutely priceless! Ah, but the fact that you are so easily deceived suggests to me that you are unfamiliar with the use of aetherytes. Allow me to explain.”

He waved a hand to the giant crystal and my gaze followed his gesture.

“These crystalline agglomerations tap into aetherial energies, and are primarily used as a means to travel swiftly from one place to another. Perchance you have heard of Return and Teleport? Well, these transportation spells make direct use of the aetherytes and their connection to the flow of aether.”

I was momentarily confused. I hadn't felt anything like the pull of these aetherytes while visiting Kaladesh, where aether flowed freely and shaped the landscape, and could be harnessed by the many artificers and crafters of the plane to fuel their constructs, along with birthing the Aetherborn that resided there. Perhaps this was a similar, though different, phenomena that coincidentally happened to share the same name. Great minds thinking alike, as the case might be.

“Given that there is an aetheryte in almost every corner of Eorzea, any adventurer with a mind to explore the realm will wish to seek out and attune themselves to each and every one! But even if you have no intention of wandering beyond the sultanate's borders, it would be prudent for you to attune yourself to any aetherytes you encounter from now on.”

He bowed. “I pray you found that informative. Should you wish wish to learn more about aetherytes or transportation magic, I should be happy to answer your questions.”

Indeed, I searched my own mind, and deep within the memories that had arisen from the contact with the aetheryte, I found buried within, not of my own knowledge, the runes and gestures needed to return aetherically to these localised giant crystals. Were I to remain here for any length of time, I imagine these spells of transit would prove useful skills. I turned back from the crystal to the guard.

“How does this work, exactly?”

He shuffled slightly in place. “Well, in order to understand the workings of aetherial travel, one must first understand the nature of aether itself. Aether is an invisible, intangible substance that exists all around us.” I nodded thoughtfully; the basic premise seemed similar to what I had learned on Kaladesh.

“It flows through every living being, including you and me. It is what sustains us, and without it, we would perish. Once the spirit departs the body due to death, our remains are reduced to aether and returned to the aetherial river known as the Lifestream. However, it was long ago discovered that, with sufficient control of one's spiritual energies, a man could deliberately reduce his physical form to aether without severing the connection between body and soul. And so the spells known as Return and Teleport were born.”

“And what happens if say, for example, a spirit tried to use it? Say, someone who was already dead?”

The guard laughed. “Well, surely such a thing wouldn't happen, so there's no need to question! But, I suppose if the Lifestream decided that it was not the spirits' time to return, they would remain wandering alone with no body.”

I laughed awkwardly. “...Yes, I suppose that makes... sense. Thank you. But what are these crystals? How does this happen? And is there a way to make more?”

“Well, the crystalline agglomerations of aether that you see here are vital to aethereal travel. Simply by touching it, you can attune your body's aether to our crystal, and should you fall in battle and your body be reduced to aether, you may awaken back at the aetheryte with which you have the strongest resonance - your “home point”. With the proper training, however, you can resist the pull of your home point and travel to a different aetheryte. This is the technique commonly referred to as “Teleportation”. But know that you can only travel to an aetheryte with which you have previously attuned. When visiting an unfamiliar area, you would do well to seek out the nearest aetheryte before engaging in any dangerous activities. In essence, aetherytes act as lodestones, which allow us to move contrary to the natural flow of the Lifestream. But be fairly warned: to attempt aetherial travel without these lodestones is akin to suicide.”

“That didn't answer my question...” I said.

The guard shrugged. “I only know mostly about how they're used. There are a lot of stories about how aetheryte crystals, especially the large ones like such, get made. Some say it's an aether leak that accumulates in places of population. Others say it's people channelling the Lifestream for their own ends, and coincidentally happen to make something useful out of it. I can't say for sure.

“Right. Also, sorry for wasting your time, but... you mentioned that there were two spells - Return and Teleport? I only learned the one from the crystal. Is that normal?”

“Well compared to Teleport, Return is less taxing on spiritual energies, as we are naturally drawn towards our “home point”, where our aetheric resonance is strongest. The spell can be cast quite quickly, making it ideal for emergencies. By way of a drawback, you can't select your destination at will - Return can only send you back to your home point. Teleport, however, offers greater versatility, in that you can travel to any aetheryte with which you have previously attuned. However, it requires a great deal of spiritual energy known as “anima”  to safely guide one's body and soul to the weaker aetherial beacon. Do not worry, though - many adventurers recover quickly and are more than capable of frequent travel. That is, assuming they can afford the costs involved.”

“Costs? I thought this was from your own energy?”

“Well, you see, in the Calamity, many of the aetheryte camps across Eorzea were damaged, if not completely destroyed. Rebuilding these camps came at a great expense, and the money which made this possible was lent by certain wealthy individuals. This debt is being repaid to this day, and it is for this reason that we must levy a fee upon those who use the Teleport spell.”

“I see. So there are known ways to make new crystals; they're just being guarded by the wealthy. Or at least, their agents.”

The guard shook his head slightly. “True enough. But that's the way of the world; no-one gets rich by being generous.”

“Yes, well, I've taken enough of your time. Thank you again for the information.”

“Anytime, miss. And if you ever come into the funds for that attunement fee, I'll be waiting.” He smirked with a wink, and resumed his patrol.

I took a moment to collect myself before I vacated the plaza, and continued on, once more following the signs that led me towards the Gladiators’ Guild. The guildhall itself was located in the heart of the Coliseum; judging by signs on the walls, proclaiming itself a battle arena for those interested in the more performance aspect of combat, or seeking coin for their efforts. I approached the reception counter, staffed by a male Hyur and a male Lalafell.

“Pardon, but is this where someone would register as a Gladiator? It was suggested that I should inquire about that path.”

The Lalafell spoke up. “Indeed! Welcome to the Gladiators' Guild, friend! Tell me, are you new to the thrills of mortal combat?”

“I-”

“Well, whether you are or not, you are new to us! If you would take your place in these hallowed halls, you must be willing and ready to undergo the most rigourous training. You must endure cuts and bruises beyond counting, and like as not far worse.”

My mind flashed back to the training regimens of the Knights on Melenas, the tutelage of Daghatar, Khan of the Abzan, and the sparring with Kolya. The receptionist continued, unabated. “A daunting prospect, I concede - but there is no other way if you mean to take to the bloodsands one day. And why wouldn't you? The Coliseum is only the most celebrated place of public entertainment in all of Ul'dah! Where else could a poor man a massive fortune so vast as to one day allow him to claim a seat on the Syndicate? Ahhh... there's not an Ul'dahn alive who isn't inspired by the rise of the self-made man. And there is no truer embodiment of this than the gladiator who wins riches and fame with his sword. Throughout its long and storied history, this guild has nurtured countless champions. Our training methods are second to none, and our members ever strive to develop new techniques. If you desire true glory - to fight and triumph, 'midst of the roar of ten thousand voices - then this is where you belong, adventurer. ...Think of it. Think of your legacy. And if your soul stirs... join us”.

Strangely, I did actually think about that. What was I leaving behind? If I were to ever finally rest, or perhaps seek the albeit painful release of Ecruna's sun, what would be left of my name? I knew I had some descendants on my home plane, but I was likely to be long-forgotten and unnotable by now, a brief footnote on a family tree. Each world I had passed though, I had donned a borrowed disguise of a host body compatible with my spirit and spark, only revealing the depths of my secrets to my closest, and most trusted allies. Other than that, only my enemies really knew who I was beyond that, but would they be allowed to make any impact with their actions in such a fashion where I might be remembered alongside them, as someone who stood up for what was right?

“Well, what will it be? Will you rise above the masses and inscribe your name in legend, or will you resign yourself to mediocrity and die in obscurity?” He was putting it on a little, trying his best to sell the idea of immortality through legacy, but he also couldn't have possibly known how deep his words resonated.

“...Yes.” I said, resolving to make a mark, even for the hopefully little time I was stuck here.

“Aha! A decision you shan't regret. One moment...” He drew a deep breath, and announced to the to the Guild in general. “Make way for Liya al-Amundi! Fresh meat coming through!” He addressed me more casually now, dropping the pretense of advertising and flowery formality. “Sorry about that, it's kind of a tradition. Now then, before your enrollment can be considered complete, you must present yourself to First Sword Mylla. Seek her out and obtain her approval.”

A quick scan of the room with my tomestone revealed that the heavily armoured woman overseeing the gladiators in training was indeed Mylla, though in fairness, I could have guessed as much without the assistance. But it pays to be sure. I approached and introduced myself. The blonde woman turned, imposing in her stature.

“Aye, I overheard Lulutsu. So you’re Liya al-Amundi? 'Tis a good, strong name. On behalf of the Gladiators' Guild, allow me to welcome you. I am Mylla, guildmaster here.” She gave me an appraising look, trying to read an intent. “So, you wish to study our arts? I presume you have your reasons for choosing the sword over all other weapons. Perhaps you think it easiest to learn. A sword is a simple weapon. But to wield a blade well is anything but simple. for every Coliseum champion to emerge from our ranks, there have been countless disappointments who failed to achieve greatness. Bear that in mind before you answer me, Liya, for I do not ask this question lightly; have you the strength to live by the sword and - if it be your fate - die by it?”

In memory, I recalled the many ways that I had, in fact, died by the sword; from the first, to more recent times, knowing that unfortunately, given my history, they would be unlikely to be the last.

“So do I swear” I replied, nodding my head and offering an Abzan salute, almost unconsciously.

Mylla gave a look of curiosity, and spoke again.“Then welcome, gladiator, to your new home!” I winced slightly, hoping that this home, although nice, would not be permanent. I already had a home, and I was eager to get back to it. “Let's not waste time, shall we? I would gauge your aptitude for the sword. You have your choice; you can either spar with me, or take a hunting request. Most newcomers opt for the latter” she scoffed with a wry smile. “So, just outside the gates of Ul'dah, you'll find plenty of marmots, hornets, and shrews. Slay three of each and return here when finished. A simple task, but essential to your training nonetheless.”

“If it's all the same, I think I'd like to try sparring.”

An audible hush passed through the guildhall. Mylla raised an eyebrow.

“Are you sure? There's no shame in taking the hunt. Most here have done similar on their paths.”

I nodded. “I have experience in martial forces, and though my style may be... different to what you would undoubtedly instruct, I would still wish to test my own skills.”

Mylla smiled. “Very well.” She turned to face the swordsmen training in the pit, clearly noting they had halted to witness my introduction. “Clear the pit, and observe closely. Twelve know I don't get a chance to exercise my skills.” A brief frown crossed her face. “Though it would hardly be fair for you to contest unarmoured. And your blade, though dull as I see it, could still cause harm where you do not wish. Would you accept a loan of training arms for our match? Of course, I would respond in kind.”

I nodded. “A wise decision, guildmaster.”

Mylla whistled sharply, and one of the formerly sparring swordsmen snapped to attention and ran down a small hallway, only to return with a pair of what appeared to be wooden swords, a rough buckler, and a leather coat. He presented one of the blades to Mylla before attending to my aid. The weight was close to the sword I was temporarily surrendering, though I could see an odd colouration to the blade’s edge. Mylla spoke, as if noticing my confusion.

“With the assistance of the Thaumaturges’ Guild, our training weapons are enhanced with an illusory dye, so that we may more easily pay attention to our strikes. Observe.” She rapped the blade against her chest plate, and a green line remained once the blow had been dealt. “With the focus and energy of even a sparring contest, it can be easy to forego notice of a strike that in the heat of a real battle would maim or worse. This way, we learn not just to handle the blow, but to avoid getting hit to start.” Mylla ran the palm of her hand up the flat of the wooden blade, and the mark on her armour shimmered and vanished. She gave a wry smile. “Doesn’t stain, either.”

I simply nodded, remembering the times of war I had witnessed, and my feelings within. The coat was simple, but serviceable. It reminded me of the attire of Innistrad, though the memory attached was one I would sooner forget. I affixed the buckler to a purpose-made strap the coat had, near my shoulder on my back; easy to draw from if needed. Mylla simply cocked an eyebrow at my choice, saying nothing.

The trainees emptied the area, standing around the fence, clearly spectating. “As you're new, I will restrain myself, lest you be injured on your first day.”

I nodded. “Thank you; I can see you're an honourable woman. But you may be surprised by what I can do.” I assumed my stance, drilled into my muscle memory from years of practice. Another appraising look from the guildmaster, as she mentally adapted to my style, searching for weaknesses as any warrior would. One of the other guild members, in slightly different attire to the others, approached with a cloth in hand.

“Ready?” He glanced from side to side, seeking confirmation from both of us. “Begin!” He waved the cloth before retreating to safety, as the guildmaster leapt forward.

[bloodsworn-marshal]

Writing Prompt: Bark Word Count: 1230

Early morn… right as the sun barely peeked beyond the horizon. The sun’s rays beginning the light the land as night turned to dawn. Much of the realm still asleep at this hour, save for those who began the motions of readying for a day of work.

Those few who were well and wide awake at this hour already had gathered just outside the outer walls of Ul’dah. A private courtyard connected to the back of the Immortal Flames’ headquarters which usually served as a training grounds once upon a time. Now, however, it found its use for more menial usage ever since the company acquired the gladiator’s coliseum under their name. Such as training exercises, a wide enough space to socialize with one another, a way to communicate with runners from Ala Mhigo and nearby castrums… or like at this very moment: Morning drills and sound off.

Before the crowd of Flames, joining in one after the other, barked the Flame General. Relaying orders and reports of the day prior. Commanders and Captains joining in and sounding off as they gathered their squadrons and divided the new day’s work amongst themselves. A great opportunity to meet each morn and make sure all was on the same page.

“Our efforts proceed apace! Do not squander the peace we have been afforded, for now is our time to rebuild in truth. We are at a place where our concerns and actions are finally being smiled upon by the Sultanate themselves—I cannot emphasize enough how completely paramount it is that we get this right!”

A familiar speech amongst the troops of late. The war between they and Garlamald had come to an end—to the point the Alliance now assisted with those who had survived the near annihilation of their culture. That of the realm meeting its doom and the Final Days had also been swiftly dealt with by the Scions. What remained now came with the aftermath.

Restore. Negotiate. Make peace.

Not only with their neighbors whether it be as far as Ala Mhigo or as close to home as the Sultanate. But also with those of the Amalj’aa—that which Pipin Tarupin has mainly spearheaded with his frequent visits amongst the different desert clans.

Morning assembly was swiftly coming to an end. Their orders given and their destinations in mind. They would take to heart their every effort would mean something. No longer mere soldiers of war up for slaughter, but now they would give meaning in different ventures. Important ones where bloodshed no longer be a given.

With a flames salute and a roar of consensus amongst them, they departed to their given stations. As they would continue to do as they strived for a better future.

…

“Report!”

“Sir!”

Back in the Flame Halls had Pipin returned to his office. An already exasperated look on his face as a pile of paperwork had found its way to his desk at some point during their morning meeting. Slipped past him when he thought it already complete…

There would already be a slue of things waiting for him and he hardly had a moment to afford. Check in with their diplomatics, look over reports, attend meetings with the Sultanate, the Sultana, this and that and…

He sighed inwardly. Already getting ahead of himself. Who knew that a time of peace would be reason for the every day to get ever busier?

The lieutenant standing before him lowered their salute as they were given permission to speak, eyes darting nervously from side to side as they gathered themselves. Pipin perked a curious brow, but otherwise awaited their report.

“Speak plainly.” He bid them not to beat around the bush—he was a busy man after all. His attention ever in high demand.

“Well…” The soldier closed their eyes, as if this were indeed anything worth reporting. But their squadron had begged at their behest. And so they would see it through. “It would seem one of my sergeants has found an intruder in our midst.”

Once again Pipin’s brows raised and looked as they he were about to interject about the who and the what before the lieutenant spoke once more. “You see… on our way back from morning drills, they found a little miscreant had snuck inside and…”

“And…?”

…

“You’re jesting, right?”

The beginning of a whole new headache. One that Pipin knew not if he had the energy to give attention for.

There, sitting in a box in one of the office rooms, was a small pup. A young pup at that, no more than a few moons old if that. It yapped and whined, shaking in anxiousness or mayhaps even excited. It was hard to tell at that age as it stared back at the group of visitors. Tail wagging and pawing at the edges of said box.

Both lieutenant and sergeant surrounded the flame general on either side, faces filled with awe over the little bundle of joy. And obviously trying to play on Pipin’s feelings as they tried to convince him of keeping the dog.

…Pipin never did have a way with animals. He didn’t have the attention to care for one nor did any have a specific likeness for him either aside from his combat bird. Most specifically—he didn’t have the time for one!

“It can’t stay here…” He murmured, squatting down to get a closer look at the pup. Staring back at him were big sweet eyes only a youngling could have, as if drawing one in to a point that they couldn’t go back. “It can’t…”

The pup managed to flop half of its body over the top of the box just enough to where it could reach its tiny paws out and paw at Pipin’s knees. Both of his soldiers ooh’d and aww’d from behind him, begging for him to reconsider. And the more he stared at it, the more he felt like maybe. Just maybe.

“I won’t be its caretaker.” He huffed, giving the two a rather discerning look. “Train it the same as we do our combat birds. It shall find its use in our halls, else we have no need for a scavenger runt looking for food.”

“Aye! Of course, sir!”

Pipin sighed deeply as he looked down upon the pup once more. Finally giving in to smoothing his hand over its head in a gentle pet. That which made the dog yip a little too gleefully—and nip at his fingers. A telltale sign for what was to come.

This would be such a headache indeed.

Yet for all the Flame General’s initial complaints and assumed aloofness to care for the animal in any capacity, rumor spread around the halls. About how he occasionally snuck out of his office to see the pup and how it was doing. Giving it a rare treat on the occasion… and even rarer an actual smile to accompany it! Not that he’d ever admit to it. With plenty a bandage wrapped around his hands for every time the dog bit or scratched at him (whether out of being too excited or… Pipin simply could not figure out how to handle it properly). But one thing is to say for certain: It would make for a great guard dog someday, depending on who it would decide is its owner most.

[classiqals]

love. haspira would roll her eyes if she heard of such folly again, she was sure of it - how many grown beings still had their head in the clouds, with fanciful fairytales guiding their ambition? this displeasure did not register on the sultana's face - no longer did she spend her nights wishing for a fate filled with the thing. no. it was power, security, and strength now that she aspired to claim for herself. no wonder rahmi had been utterly infatuated; he always did have such a hang up about love.

a man with a mind made up was not a man that she could change. as ambition as she were, even haspira could accept this unmovable fact. the prince had that look in his eye that mirrored her own; neither would stop their belief of rahmi. " oh, please, i need not speak ill of rahmi, nor have i yet. you confuse facts with emotion. to say he is dangerous is merely a reality of life. he is a killer. " this much, at least, was true. " he worked with those who brought pain to the world in the reckoning. "

but the prince knew this. there was no flash of shock nor fear, and haspira sighed, finally letting her gaze fall. " i fought for his life. " she admitted, quietly, the vision of someone with demons that haunted her. it was only half an act. " did he tell you that part? the reason he breathes, the reason he even found you in his banishment, was because i begged for the chance to see him walk away, rather than be buried deep. i am not a villain, prince liantsoa, even if his story has painted me as such to absolve whatever guilt he still has yet to face. "

she sighed again, taking another drink from her glass, leaving it less than half empty. " i do not want my husband back. i just want my safety promised, after his threat to my life the last time we spoke. if you care so little for yours, that is for you to live with. " or not.

the smile on her face makes him feel uneasy, and liantsoa isn't sure if there is something off about her right now, or if it is an amalgamation of everything he has heard about her. one thing for sure, both of those things seem to go hand in hand, as well as the paranoia he harbors towards everything and anything these days. his back is straight as he sits, and the glass in front of him is held as an anchor, a way to keep his hands busy. the prince rarely feels this awkward and unsure in someone's presence, and he does his best not to let it show. the last thing he wants is for her to feel like she is one-upping him, which he thinks is a part of whatever plan she has in her mind. "how... fortunate." a forced smile from him in return, nowhere as bright as it would be on another day. "we simply cannot, can we?" the prince raises the glass to take a long sip, and once he sets it down, his eyes are careful as he listens. the insult, while unexpected, does not seem to contradict the image in his mind about her. just the opposite, it follows that pattern. lia is careful enough not to let it look like it has affected him, and picks his next words with great deliberation. "there are many more shameful things than love in this world, but to each to their own, of course." he will not attempt to change her mind, does not see any reason to, nor does he particularly care about what she thinks. all lia wants is for her to speak whatever's in her mind, and be done with this conversation. the warning offends him more than the insult made to himself, for it is about rahmi. haspira, talking down about him again, this time in lia's presence, making him the monster he knows rahmi is not. this time, it's impossible to hide the disbelief from his face, and he takes a deep breath to calm himself down. "sultana, i do not need or want your warnings. and- i do not want to be impolite, but they are not welcome. you will not change my mind- and i do not wish to partake in any conversation where someone speaks ill of my fiancé."

[manotelier]

sent a copy of chapter 1 of halqa 2 to my friends and I am patiently waiting for their critics before starting chapter 2. 

Dialogues are my weakest point but I did my best and tried to make it really natural. The hardest thing is describing the moroccan architecture.

Hind’s home is a Fassi Riad in a European inspired city (a mix of London and Paris) so basically her home doesn’t have a roof, has those beautiful and majestic doors, that wonderful zellige, that outstanding foutain BUT I CAN’T DESCRIBE ITTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT.

I AM FROM A SMALL OASIS, I DON’T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT RIAAAADS 

Moroccan Artists back in days: i am going to create an art that you shall NEVER BE ABLE TO DESCRIBE IT take your L YOU FAILED WRITER

Also, describing outfits is stressing. Gnadars, kfatans, takchitats, jabador, jlalb, foqiya, etc are all differents things.. Well, for women the only thing stressing me is the details on the dresses but for MEN. just a big headache. 

I stress about this detail because I want to respect the culture I was born and raised in. To me, it’s important to write well about outfits that I have wore and seen all my life. It’s important to pay hommage to that blue tunic with the white collar full of little pearls that was designed in that style that people would say “ah you bought it from the habous of Casablanca right?”, that little blue tunic that I paid with my money and wore it proudly at school and was being mocked by the others. 

but anyway!!! Practice is the key. So I am going to work on it.

I am getting used to Hind after spending 3 years on Noor. Hind is complicated so is Noor but difference is Hind is way too blunt when Noor cares. Noor doesn’t want people to get hurt while Hind doesn’t care.

 She really doesn’t like living in Lonaris and believe that the ellektos aristocracy is the biggest insult to humanity. Her father tries his best to prevent his daughter to not make a diplomatic incident. 

nobody:

hind: this is for king theodore you big f-

[hibiscus-tome]

FFXIV Write 2022, day 1: cross

By end of the first hour of the meeting, fatigue starts to sink into his bones like a heavy weight. With it comes guilt; Thancred had promised last week, that he’d be able to sit through however long it takes for the Sultana to make her way through each and every document filed against him, marking every action taken in the months his body was not his own.

“A malevolent being, asserting complete control over one’s mind and senses…” says Nanamo, slowly — her voice quiet and deep, in a way it so rarely is outside this chamber. “It will certainly be no small matter to resolve it. Nevertheless…” She smiles, with far more gentleness than he deserves. “I am relieved to see you safe and unharmed, Master Thancred.”

Well, of course she is. Training a new Scion to take his place here in Ul’dah — teaching them the ins and outs of its political climate, the various ways in which the Monetarists will throw their weight to seize even the slightest bit of control, how to work with General Raubahn and the Immortal Flames without stepping on their toes, which factions of the Brass Blades can be trusted and which ones answer to a merchant’s coin, who among the populace pockets gil from which sponsor — sounds downright nightmarish.

Next to him, Minfilia nods. “Thank you for your understanding, your grace,” she says, very politely. “Unfortunately, this is the first time we’ve ever dealt with Ascian treachery of this magnitude. Steps are certainly being taken to ensure that this incident does not repeat itself—”

“—and I trust that you are doing everything in your power to protect yourself and your colleagues from further threats of this sort,” says Nanamo.

“—but I must emphasize that we are still operating from a position that lacks strength and information,” says Minfilia. “I would ask for your patience, as we work with our colleagues from Sharlayan to resolve this situation.”

Nanamo nods. “Of course.”

Next to the Sultana, Raubahn sighs, reaching for one of the documents splayed across the table. “Sorting through the mess this… imposter left behind will be no small feat,” he says. “You’ve seen the reports — espionage, exchanges of funds with our Garlean neighbors… I have no doubts that you, personally, had no intentions of crossing us, though that does not negate the damage that has been dealt to us — by someone wearing your face and speaking with your voice.”

“And you will have my full cooperation for however long it takes to resolve this,” says Thancred, forcing no small amount of cheer into his voice.

Raubahn stares at him for a long moment — and then something in his gaze softens to an unacceptable degree. Thancred’s always hated it, when Raubahn looks at him like that — like he’s a small child to be consoled, and not a grown man entrusted, to no small degree, with Ul’dah’s future prosperity. “For what it is worth,” he says, far too gently, “know that I do not mean this as a reprimand. You are just as much a victim in all of this, if not more so.”

Oh, how he hates that word — this absurd insistence that Lahabrea had made a victim out of him, when taking advantage of Thancred’s own negligence and poor planning.

“For the time being,” says Nanamo, “we will do our best to keep you informed of any developments. However, I think it best if Master Thancred take a temporary leave of absence from his work here in Ul’dah.”

“Your—your grace,” Thancred protests immediately. “I can assure you that regardless of what has happened, I am no less capable of—”

“Of that, I have no doubts,” says Nanamo, “but as I said before: it is no small matter to be so utterly robbed of one’s mind and senses. It will take us some time to convey your innocence to all interested parties; in the meantime, I would advise you to rest and recover as much as you are able.”

Raubahn gives him that look again — the one that bores into his skin, sees past every defense and redirection into the swirling abyss of shame and pointless self-pity that feels like far more of an effort these days to keep buried.

Minfilia inclines her head — not quite frowning at him, but close enough to a proper reprimand that Thancred can feel heat blooming in his ears all the same. It’s not like they’ve argued about this, exactly — however much one can argue with Minfilia in the first place — but she’s repeatedly made her opinions clear, as well as her disapproval of Thancred’s attempts to reject them.

“I… I understand, your grace,” says Thancred. “Pray, forgive the inconvenience.”

Nanamo smiles, with far more gentleness than he deserves. “Of that, there is none,” she says. “Once again, I would ask you to remember that we are well aware that it was not you who crossed us, but rather someone wearing your skin and speaking with your voice. The blame lies not at your feet, but at those of the being who orchestrated this scheme.” She says this quietly, a well of power belying her words that brokers no room for argument.

“I’ll… try to keep that in mind, your grace,” he says, bowing his head.

He and Minfilia say their goodbyes then, and make their way down the Royal Promenade. Though he’s done little more this past hour than sit in a chair, a gnawing sense of fatigue blankets him like a heavy fog. It’s not so bad that he’s compelled to retire to bed, but it’s enough that he’s uncomfortably aware of it all the same.

Minfilia does not remark on it, though it’s obvious that she can see it. In such cases, it is a deliberate choice not to challenge him on this — a quiet acknowledgment that convincing him to rest is, at least for the time being, not worth her effort. Somehow, it still feels like a failure on his part.

“Well…” she says, smiling. “We seem to have some time to spare. If you’re up to it, what do you say we head to the Quicksand for a snack platter?”

When was the last time they’ve done something like this? Before Lahabrea, undoubtedly — before the warrior that untangled this whole mess set foot on the Waking Sands’ doorstep, even.

“I don’t see why not,” he answers — and does not protest when, upon their arrival, she insists that he sit down at their table while she places the order. It’s been a long time, but it’s easy to fall back into an old rhythm — one where he feels about a decade younger, where Minfilia is less the Antecedent he’s come to know these past years and more that headstrong child from long ago — bold enough to seize her destiny with her own two hands before anybody with more money and power than her could take it for themselves.

It’s no small miracle that for all of Lahabrea’s machinations — for all of Thancred’s failure to stop them, despite Nanamo and Raubahn’s insistence otherwise — that hasn’t been snuffed out.