#ah yes the aymeric outfit

[raenef]

[johnnylandslide]

You know I had to ask Estinien

I wouldn't have expected anything less! Alright, here goes:

Estinien had been lingering awkwardly near the Warrior of Light for several minutes now. There was a question that needed to be asked, but he could not for the life of him conceive of a way to ask properly. To make matters worse, when he'd voiced his concern to Aymeric earlier today, the man had actually told him off and warned him that his question might even offend.

That brought up even more sinister implications. Estinien both needed to ask this question, and ask it in a way that made sure it never found its way back to her. He felt a faint chill run down his spine.

"Alrighty, let's do Shinryu next! This was first song of his I heard, and it's still one of my favorites!" Johnny called out to the Seventh Heaven tavern, gesturing for his bachelor party guests to give the Wandering Minstrel a round of applause.

Estinien put his hands together for the bard along with everyone else. As Johnny headed back over to his seat, though, Estinien saw his chance, closing the distance and placing a hand on the man's shoulder.

"Johnny."

"Yes?"

Estinien went silent, hand still on Johnny's shoulder. He was fumbling already. He had to ask indirectly.

"How is your... financial situation?" he settled for.

"Well, this wedding has been a nightmare-"

Estinien's eyes went wide, and he tightened his grip on Johnny's shoulder. Right from the start, this was worse than he'd thought. "A nightmare?!"

"Financially, I mean! We invited way too many people, and we didn't exactly pick a cheap venue, either. Nanamo did give us a discount, but there's only so much she can do. We've burned through a lot of savings. Tataru's happy to spend it though; a huge royal wedding was always a dream of hers."

There was still plenty of room for sinister motives here. Estinien had to inquire further. "Are you paying for it, or is Miss Tataru?"

Johnny laughed outright; the question seemed bizarre. "We're getting married, Estinien! We've had a joint account for months already. What are you getting at?"

"I am curious if this is putting you into debt," Estinien said. That was how the woman had ensnared him the first time, and if she was using the same strategy once again, then he needed to do what he could to rescue his friend from it. "You, personally. If someone is gaining leverage over you through this union."

"I don't understand what you mean," Johnny said.

This wasn't working. Next time, he'd ask Alphinaud for help with subtle implications. For now though, he asked directly. "Are you marrying Tataru out of love?"

"...I thought that was pretty obvious," Johnny said, confused.

"That's good," Estinien said. He just needed to check one more time, keeping extra close attention to Johnny's expressions for any signs of coercion. "You truly love her?"

"Yes!" he said. "Tataru is the kindest, sweetest, cutest girl in all Eorzea, and I still cannot believe she's going to marry me. We were together through some of my hardest times, but also some of the best times! She's always been there for me, ever since the first time I walked into the Waking Sands."

Estinien slowly nodded.

"The first time I actually noticed how cute she is was back then, actually. I was leaving on a mission, and I looked over her desk to see what she was up to, and on the Scion roster she'd drawn this little flower next to my name. I should have just proposed to her right there and saved us both half a decade."

"Ah. I understand."

"Then there was Ishgard, which was really rough. Every time we got back to the city, though, she was there in the Forgotten Knight waiting for me, ready to tell me about all the stuff she'd gotten up to while we were out. She really livened that place up, made it feel like a home. That's what Tataru is to me; she's my home."

Estinien nodded again.

"She made this shirt and cape for me, you know? These boots, too," Johnny said, pointing to them. "That white suit I have was the first outfit she made for me. I didn't really put much thought into what I wore before that, but she took such care in making it match the rest of the Scions that it made me feel like part of the group for the first time. She made an entire suit to help me feel included. She's the best."

Estinien hoped this would end soon.

"Also, I just can't believe I'm dating her. Engaged to her! I'm marrying her tomorrow, Estinien! She used to do this thing to get my attention where she would raise both her hands and hop up and down, and it was so cute that I had this urge to just pick her up and kiss her, and now I can! She likes to ride on my shoulder when we go shopping because she tells me it makes her feel like a princess, and when we hug I can pull her so close."

By the Fury, how much longer was this going to go? Estinien could clearly see his initial worries could not possibly have been more misplaced; the only worry remaining being how he was going to escape this.

"She called me her hero when we got back from the big thing, by the way. People have said that to me before, but never like she has. You know?"

"That is... good," Estinien said, eyes flitting about the room looking for an exit.

"Also, her hair is the color of a sunset-"

The sound of a spoon clinking against a glass rang out, Thancred at another table getting Johnny's attention. Estinien gave silent thanks to the Twelve for the reprieve.

"Wrap it up, Landslide! We're all waiting on you," Thancred called out.

Johnny swallowed the rest of his sentence, realizing that seven other people were waiting on him so they could listen to the next song.

"Oops, sorry about that. Okay, I'm ready!" he called. Before the Minstrel began to play, he whispered quickly to Estinien, "Yes, I love her. There's no funny business going on. Thank you for checking, though."

Estinien sighed. Whatever hallucination this bard's next song brought on would be a welcome change of pace from listening to this newlywed. He seemed to be truly happy, and if he happened to find that happiness with the Scions' terrifying pink menace, then Estinien was not one to judge.

[potassium-pilot]

FFXIVWrite2023, Prompt 18: A Fish Out of Water

Estinien rushed down the halls of the Andron, wearing a fancy dark blue shirt and tight pants with tall dark black boots, aiming for the room of the Warrior of Light. Upon arrival, he knocked quickly at the door.

"Dia?"

Silence greeted him back. He knocked once more.

"Dia, are you in there?"

Once again, silence.

"I need your help. Can you open your door?"

Then a thought hit him. This group has a tendency to have some kind of horrific thing happen to them: prophetic visions, souls torn from bodies, possession by ancient beings. If she wasn't answering, that might not be the best sign as he wasn't aware of anyone leaving Sharlayan during construction of the Ragnarok.

"Dia, this isn't funny! Open the bloody door!" He demanded as he knocked repeatedly before he tried for the door handle. She locked the door, the swiving arse.

"Ah, Estinien!"

He stopped and looked at his caller. Alphinaud appeared from around the corner. "Were you looking for Dia?"

"Yeah. You know where she is?"

"She told us in the linkshell. I'm certain you listened in, yes?"

Of all the times for his lack of checking on that blasted linkshell to backfire in his face.

"She said the situation in Ishgard has come to a head, and that Lord Aymeric requested her presence to aid him and Lord Artoirel in their efforts against the blasphemy Profane Fafnir", Alphinaud explained.

"...that's not some sort of code, is it?"

"I don't believe so. At any rate, if you're looking to find her, you've a long journey to make, and little time to make it before we're due to take tea with my mother."

Is Aymeric sure he doesn't need a lancer, Estinien asked himself.

"I merely wanted to ask after my outfit. Would this be appropriate for tea time in a Sharlayan high house?"

"Well, most Sharlayans have come to wear white robes, but for the purposes of tea today, you need not concern yourself with your dress."

"All right." That did little to belay Estinien's anxieties, but at least he had the knowledge.

"Come. I'll take you to Leveilleur Manor myself."

The two walked out of the Andron and into the sunshine hanging over the city-state of Sharlayan. Estinien kept up behind Alphinaud as he led him through town, upstairs and to the right of the Rostra. They approached the doors, and the door greeters bowed to the two of them before opening the door and allowing them entry into the large mansion.

Estinien looked around the place. The large marble staircase leading up the stairs, the colorful wallpaper, the servants in every corner- it was like a high house in Ishgard.

Aside from one notable family, he hated the high houses.

"Ah, you must be Ser Estinien." He noticed a woman with white hair pulled back wearing a white robe walking out of a double door beneath the stairs. "Welcome to our home. My name is Ameliance Leveilleur, the mother of Alphinaud and Alisaie."

"Er, thank you." Estinien sincerely didn't know what to say here. She already knew who he was after all.

"Of course. Now then, the tea is being prepared as we speak. Why do we not sit in the parlor?"

"That sounds like a wonderful idea. Estinien?" Alphinaud asked.

"Sure."

With his quick response, the three of them walked together through those same double doors. Fury help him, the parlor was huge. Even the Ishgardian nobles might have a few complaints to lodge. It was painted a light blue with windows adorning the south wall that the sun wouldn't peak in during the afternoon. The settees sat in the middle with a pale pink rug beneath them, ornately adorned, colored a deep blue, not unlike Estinien's shirt.

The three took their seats, Alphinaud sitting next to Estinien while Ameliance took the opposite settee.

"I'm glad to finally have this chance to speak with you in person, Ser Estinien. Of the people that Alphinaud has written of, two people appeared frequently in mention: Dia and you. Were it not for the emergency in Ishgard, I would have requested her presence here this day as well, but I'm still quite happy to have you join us."

Even she knew about that? Fury, Estinien chastised himself in his head.

"Er, I'm glad to be here as well", he half-lied.

"Now then, tea shall be here shortly, but please, treat yourselves to some finger sandwiches. We've cucumber, pesto chicken, egg salad, garlean cheese. There are also plenty of sweets. I know Alphinaud would be quite happy with that much."

Estinien couldn't help but smile. Thank the Fury he could act as a bouncing board.

"Yes, well", Alphinaud asked, "Estinien is here, and we're all happier for it."

"Indeed. So, Ser Estinien, what was your education?"

"...my education?"

"Yes. I'm afraid I haven't any idea of the educational aspects of Ishgard, or anywhere in Coerthas, for that matter."

"Er...well, Ishgard has the Scholasticate, but only those who don't enlist in the Temple Knights and have the ability to afford its education have access to that. What I was taught was taught to me by my parents and Alberic."

"Alberic?" Ameliance asked.

"The Azure Dragoon who came before me. Taught me everything I know about how to wield a lance. Took me in after Nidhogg attacked my home."

That was way too much information, he determined after seeing the way Alphinaud grimaced.

"Oh dear...I apologize, I meant not to stir up anything unpleasant."

"Worry not. You've done nothing wrong."

Ameliance took in a breath to center herself. "Well...what of your career plans, Ser Estinien?"

"Currently, I've employment in the Scions of the Seventh Dawn."

"Well, yes, but what of the future? Should your services no longer be needed in the Scions, do you know what would come next?"

He had absolutely no clue how to answer that. Seeing that he was to take to his taciturn staring, Alphinaud jumped in. "The Scions currently have no need to dispose of him and for the foreseeable future, I highly doubt he would need to worry about that."

Estinien grabbed a chicken finger sandwich and ate it, hoping that might deflect some questions from him. When that didn't work, Ameliance asked, "So, one mystery I know Alphinaud spent an age trying to deduce was where you went after the end of the Dragonsong War. Tell me, would you be so kind as to elucidate on this matter?"

"Oh. A bit of everywhere really."

Ameliance was keeping her patience together with incredible determination, like a button on a tight shirt. "What might that mean?"

"Well...I visited some friends", he omitted the fact that they were grave sites and the lair of Hraesvelgr, "did some searching for a certain artifiact", he leaned his head to Alphinaud, "and keeping my eye on him."

"Keeping your eye on me?" Alphinaud repeated.

"You think that cannon just destroyed itself?"

"That was you?!"

Estinien nodded with a smirk.

"Single-handedly?!"

"That so hard to believe?"

"Forgive me, but we've appeared to have veered away from an point made there", Ameliance interrupted. "A cannon?"

"Aye", Estinien answered, "A large ceruleum pipeline that fueled a cannon blocked Alliance forces from entering into The Lochs of Gyr Abania. I destroyed it. I would not allow such a thing to block their way."

"I wasn't told of a cannon", Ameliance admitted.

"Really?" He looked to Alphinaud with a shite-eating grin.

"Well...in truth, it didn't affect us much..." Alphinaud attempted to deflect.

"You mean aside from how it trapped you in Specula Imperatoris and nearly killed you?"

"What?!"

"Mother, I'll check on tea." Alphinaud quickly stood up and left.

Ameliance looked back. "I fear some things may have been left out of his letters."

"I wish I could say I blame him. I can understand the need to avoid worrying someone needlessly."

Ameliance smiled mischievously. "Yes, I suppose some things aren't worth the concern of a mother. Might I ask you this with Alphinaud out of the room?"

"Oh?"

"What is your opinion of my son? He defers a great deal of respect to you in his letters to me. In everything he says about you, his fervent admiration for you is quite clear, and I can't help but wonder...is this reciprocated?"

Estinien smiled slightly. "When I first met him, I thought him rather helpless and hopelessly idealistic. In some ways, he reminded me much of a mutual friend of ours. But much like that friend, I see now that his ideals are what paves the way for a brighter future...given we succeed in this mission of Hydaelyn's. The support of Alphinaud's comrades- nay, my comrades- carried him far and they've all shared these goals for as long as they have. Doubtless, their dedication will save us. I'm proud of him. I really am."

Ameliance seemed touched by his sincerity. "And yours?"

"My what?"

"Your dedication. Does it play its role?"

He let a laugh out of his nose. "I've come too far to not develop some dedication. Even then, I'm afraid my dedication is not placed in their goal- it's in them. Alphinaud and Dia, I mean. I trust them implicitly."

The double doors reopened and the Elezen teenager reappeared with a platter of tea cups and a kettle. "It's ready now."

Ameliance laughed. "Thank you, dear."

------

"All right, all right, you made your point", Dia laughed. A year after this, she sat in Mehryde's Meyhane with Estinien, enjoying the fare and reminiscing.

"I still recall going in there, dwarfed by the bloody staircases", Estinien complained.

"You really want to call tea with Ameliance the most harrowing thing you've experienced? You were turned into bloody wind, and tea time was the worst thing?"

"Being wind was far easier than navigating high society."

"And you thought I would be of help? Do you know how bad I am at that? There's a reason I don't go to fêtes with Aymeric."

"Besides the fact that you could barely walk for most of the year? I can't imagine how you'd fare dancing."

"Rich coming from a man who can't handle tea time with Alphinaud Leveilleur and his mother."

Estinien sighed. "In truth, it wasn't all bad. I'd rather not repeat it, mind, but there were some decent moments. I'm glad to have gotten the affair over and done with, anyway."

"Well, that's good at least."

"I still can't believe that blasphemy was real."

"Pays to check your linkshell."

Estinien scoffed. "Yes, I suppose it does."

Dia lifted her glass. "Cheers to not checking linkshells anymore, eh?"

"I'll drink to that."

They clinked their metal mugs together before partaking. Once Dia finished her sip, she asked, "Well, I know you told me at the Scions' parting that you've found work with Vrtra. How's that going for you?"

"Going well thus far. He's just having me train his lancers for a few hours a day. In exchange, I get a fine room and food. We get the chance to discuss things with each other, we look after one another. It's...interesting."

"...oh sweet Spinner, he's hoarding you", the realization clicked in Dia.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means he's got you in his grasp and he's not letting go. He's keeping you all to himself", she explained with a twisted smile.

"You're delusional."

"And you're his new consort."

"I am not his bloody consort!"

"Yeah? Well, say he didn't need you anymore. Where would you go?"

Estinien didn't know how to answer that. He had no wish to wander anymore. "...I can leave whenever I like."

"Really? What do you think he'd say?"

He didn't know the answer to that either, but there was something about the thought of leaving him disappointed that made him feel...

"...quit your teasing, woman."

Dia laughed mischievously. "Forget navigating high society. Try navigating a dragon's emotions."

"No, thank you."

[keicordelle]

Blue Silk

Fandom: FFXIV Rating: E Pairing: Estimeric Word Count: 7.9k Tags: Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Explicit Consent, Light Bondage, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Boundaries, Oral Sex, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Teasing, Aftercare, POV First Person, POV Estinien Wyrmblood

Summary: When Aymeric steps out adorned in a stunning blue silk scarf, Estinien's mind can only go to one place: the memory of that same fabric wrapped around his lover's wrists rather than his throat, leaving the Lord Commander of Ishgard trussed up and at his mercy. Fortunately for him, Aymeric has no intentions of leaving him to suffer at the hands of his imagination, even if teasing him over dinner had not been his intention.

But when the clench of silk around his wrists brings back painful memories, their plans for the evening may have to change - and perhaps this time it will be Estinien who finds himself bound before the Lord Commander instead.

-

"Are you quite certain our presence is required tonight?" I called into the bedchamber, arms crossed as I leaned against the wall by the door. The fabric of the jacket I wore strained across my shoulders, the material stiff and uncomfortable, and I grimaced, rolling my shoulders to try to alleviate the itch.

"Yes, love, I'm certain," came his diplomatically pleasant reply, though I knew him well enough that I could practically hear his eye roll.

The door swung open to reveal Aymeric, looking scrumptious as ever in his formal dinner attire. My gaze caught on the scarf wrapped tight around his throat, it's midnight blue silk and metallic embroidery intimately familiar. Just the sight of it was enough to evoke the memory of its softness slipping between my fingers, of its rich blue against the fair skin of my lover's wrists, of the tension in the fabric as he tugged on it, writhing beneath my touch.

I swallowed hard against the sudden aridity of my throat, tugging at my collar. "You're absolutely certain?" I asked, voice husky. I couldn't seem to draw my eyes away from it, this reminder worn so openly. Did he mean to tease, or did he simply not realize the strength of that particular memory?

He blinked at me, and when I tore my eyes away from his neck, his expression was puzzled. "Estinien?"

It took me two tries to speak, clearing my throat and shifting uncomfortably against a whole different sort of straining in my outfit. "Do you not remember the last time you wore this scarf?" He tilted his head, a small furrow appearing between his brows as he considered. I stepped into him, reaching up to rub the cloth between my fingers. "If you need a hint, I would remind you that it graced not your neck but your wrists last time."

Understanding blossomed in his eyes, crimson rising to stain his cheeks. "Ah. Now that is a nostalgic memory, to be sure." My hands slid up to his jaw, my thumb tracing over the corner of his mouth, and his eyes flicked down to my lips.

"Are you sure you don't want to just stay in tonight?"

-

Read the rest on Ao3!

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[voidsentprinces]

Sharlayan Azem Blight

Krile: Ah yes, the Council USE to have a policy for studying Archons. Where they were forced to wear big grey sweat pants and sweat shirts with "Violation" written on it.

Aymeric: You don't say.

Krile: Oh yes. Even Master Leveilleur over there got it at least once.

Thancred: Unfortunately for them, the outfit was quite comfortable in the winter months.

Krile: Trust, they discontinued it only a month into the program.

Estinien: Lost their nerve?

Krile: Something like that. Alisaie and your Warrior friend began to make it a competition to see who could make the gravest offense. Sadly, the Council did catch on and canceled it.

Aymeric: I see.

Alisaie: AFTER the Warrior of Light showed up to a Council meeting in a halter top and daisy dukes.

Warrior of Light: For the first time ever Sevestre, shut the fuck up and was gobsmacked. It was worth it. No wonder he tried so hard to kill me and Lady Byrde later.

[memorys-skyscraper]

Endwalker day twoooooo

AYMERIC im love youuuuuu, omg papa Gaius too? everybody’s showing up all of a sudden

LOOK at this fucking crew omg, BRD, WHM, SCH, WAR, BLM, MNK, DRG and MCH job tutors??? the pirate dudes???? Lyse & Pipin???? LUCIA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! this is the BEST

I fuckin LOVE this pirate guy and his voice, omfg not Emmanellain lmaoooooooo he’s too much

OH MY GOD LET’S FUCKING GOOOOOOOO THE STEPPE CREW FUCK YESSSS SADU AND MAGNAI omg poor Cirina “Sadu pls don’t kill them”

LMAO YSHTOLA “not to put too fine a point on it, but I wouldn’t be caught dead in that” queen

TATARUUUUUU YESSSSSS COME HANG OUT IN SHARLAYAN, also omg “while I’m confident you won’t go collapsing again (because a certain someone who shall remain nameless isn’t in a position to transport your souls to another world)” drag him Tataru

“several cutscenes will play in sequence” this is what I like to HEAR let’s go

oh my god of course they put Graha in the fucking rebel coat, I literally almost put it on too, thank god I didn’t, also love that Urianger gets his post-HW outfit again. wait hold up where do I get that jacket Thancred has on, gimme, I want it

(also why does Thancred talk so quietly this expansion, is this like a consequence of covid where his VA was recording from home so he had to be quiet or is this just a choice)

ah shit here we go again, playing as Thancred, god I wish I could move his skills around, also I love these little portraits next to the dialogue in this, also also where do I get Yshtola’s coat too

oh hey there’s a new animation for drawing your weapon in a cutscene, for DRK at least (I tend to do these solo duties on DRK bc I look dumb as hell running around with my SMN book lmao)

also since when is Pipin a DRK???? is it literally bc Raubahn gave him his sword but Raubahn is so fucking big that Pipin has to use it as a greatsword LMAO

also love that Sadu and Cirina are dating now

Emet really gassing himself up in this little narration for entering Garlemald, we get it bud, you’re super fucking smart, why are you even still talking you’re fucking dead

boy it’s fuckin grim in Garlemald, huh. real fuckin bummer here. this lil moment with the twins is too much

LOL the WHM kid being like “jesus CHRIST get over yourselves” and aero’ing everybody

fucking hell, under the chin?? they really cranked up the blood on this one

pirate boy and Emmanellain new brotp

since when can Ascians just snatch people up?? why don’t they do that more often??

FUCKING LMAOOOOOOOO WHAT THE FUCK IS THISSSSSSSSSSSSS KIDNAPPED TO DINNER WITH ZENOS WITH FANDANIEL BUTER????? I CANNOT FUCKING BELIEVE I AM LOSING IT

“Ah. Exposition is in order.” wonderful thank you fandango please exposit

Zenos just fuckin munchin away down there, minding his own business. LMAO FANDANGO “finish your dinner!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

oh my FUCKING god no we aren’t. NO WE AREN’T!!!! NO WE ARE NOT SWAPPING BODIES AND DUKING IT OUT!!!!!!!

this solo duty is fucking NUTS, I cannot believe this shit is happening. GRAHA NO, ALISAIE NO, PLEASE, STOP, ITS NOT ME, YSHTOLA CANT YOU SEE THATS NOT MY SOUL!!!!! YES QUEEN HELP!!!!!!!!!! ITS NOT ME!!!!!!!!!! TRUST YOUR OWN JUDGEMENT GIRL!!!!!!!!!!

fucking SHIT if they had me ME kill Graha and/or Alisaie I would have lost my fucking mind

well, we made it. the fuckin moon. here we are. loving all the nice piano music this expansion

im sorry? excuse me? sparkling dog?

I FOUND THE MOON CACTUARS, they are horrifying, I both hate and love them

Hythlodaeus!!!!!!!!!! my new old friend!!!!!!!! I love him sm

“a slave to sentiment, even after an eternity” yeah that’s Emet “In you I choose to believe, as Emet-Selch did” not this...................

FLYING DOG FLYING DOG FLYING DOG, ZENOS LOOK AT MY FLYING DOG

mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmaybe we shouldn’t’ve killed Elidibus, maybe Zodiark like, needed a brain. can we just pop back over to the first and get him out of the crystal tower real quick?

LMAOOO FANDANIEL “hold on ONE sec, can I just become Zodiark rq? thanks bye!!!!!!!!”

now hold up who was that? me? pre-sundering me? idfk, anyway this fight is happening way earlier than I thought which is GREAT news bc it means utterly wild shit is going to happen to keep this plot rolling, bc just based on this being lv 83 there’s 70% of the expansion left (at least I hope so)

GOD that trial was so FUCKING fun omg, I’m so excited for EX, it’s genuinely so fun to go into these trials with nobody knowing shit but all of us hyped as fuck and wiping and all being like “holy shit this kicks ass!!!! we all just died!!!! fuck yeah!!!!!”

anyway uhhhhhhhhhhh I done goofed??????? LMAO Zenos what the FUCK do you want, this is becoming ridiculous, my catboy looks so fucking over his bullshit lmao

this man is so fucking single-minded, he literally thinks of nothing else but figuring out how to fight me. like. just come with me. come hang out. it’s fine. we can be, like, actual friends. let’s go get dinner without Fandaniel. tbh I just want Zenos as a trust

THE BUNS!!!!!!!!!!!! THEY’RE SO CUTE!!!!! thancred looks like he’s gonna have a fucking stroke lmao, you okay my guy

oh im serving looks in these outfits from the bunnies, eorzea’s next top model has arrived. just kidding Urianger is the top model, yes king strike that pose

alright calling it there, I’ve slept about 4 of the past 42 hours lmao

[yezielmoore]

Day 29: Debonair

I think Emm may just be the oppossite of debonair actually, lol. But he certainly thinks he is all suave and sophisticated, so i say it counts.

~.~.~

adj. 1. Sophisticated; urbane.

2. Gracious and charming in a cheerful, carefree way.

“Ah, Kaito, old boy, how are you?” Emmanellain greets him, full of his usual enthusiasm but somehow… more. How’s that even possible Kaito is almost afraid to know. “Just the man I wanted to see!”

Kaito slows his steps as the mess surrounding Emmanellain becomes obvious. House Fortemp’s foyer has been taken over by a tailor’s wet dream it seems. There's a pile of discarded garments taller than the tallest rogaedin he knows strewn about Emmanellain. Bolts of fabric, half undone, decorate the foyer and an assortment of shoes, necklaces, hats and other assorted accessories decorate every available space.

He takes all of this in with a quick look and Kaito is not afraid of admitting that he almost backed away the way he came. The only reason he doesn’t is that he hasn’t seen Honoroit yet and fears that the boy may be asphyxiating to death under that pile of clothes.

“...Why?”

“What do you mean why? The annual All Saint’s Wake Ball is all but a moment away!” Emmanellain cries in disbelief, focusing his manic energy for a second, before going back to the current topic. “Tell me the truth, which one looks better on me, burgundy or maroon? What do you think? Or maybe this time I should choose a different shade, distance myself from tradition and show my independence? Yes, yes, you’re right, how didn’t I think of that?” The youngest Fortemps dives into the stack of bolt upon bolt of fabric and, after a short struggle, comes away with one that looks exactly like the rest to Kaito’s eyes. “What do you think of this one?” He asks, draping a sample of the fabric over his shoulder.

‘That it looks exactly like the others,’ he thinks. Red and redder and maybe darker red. He wants to say this exactly but there’s a glint in Emmanellain’s eyes that tells him his answer may just be the thing to accomplish the impossible, what no dragon incursion or patriarchal admonishment has managed yet… to make Emmanellain willingly draw his sword and mean it.

“...we are a month away from All Saint’s Wake,” is what he settles on.

“Precisely!” Emmanellain cries out in despair, successfully distracted from the previous topic. “We are only a month away and I still don’t have an outfit fit for the ball! I need to look the part, Kaito! How else will Laniaitte know I’m a changed man?!”

What to say to that?

“And what about you? I’m sure father already has set aside an invitation for you,” the elezen said, utterly oblivious or uncaring of Kaito’s look of horror. “What will be your theme? You look good in blue, but you mustn't choose the same shade as Ser Aymeric, that’ll be just embarrassing…”

‘Oookay, enough is enough’, Kaito thinks as he slowly backs away. He’s sure he can intentionally lose himself in the wilderness for a month and a few days, no biggie. It’d be nice to have a holiday, he hasn’t taken any time off lately…

Yes, yes, that sounds good.

[efrmellifer]

Conflicted

Etien woke to hands—pleasantly warm ones, but still—tugging at her, turning her.

Still only half-awake, she grumbled, swiping weakly at the hands on her upper arm, a slight hiss entering her voice as she tried to form words.

“Etien, it’s only me,” Aymeric soothed, one hand leaving her arm to smooth back her hair, coming loose from her braid again.

She woke more fully, eyes opening. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

“You need not apologize,” he replied, sitting back. “I should have woken you a little more before I started moving you. But remember, the midwife said to lie on your side.”

“Was I on my back again?”

He nodded. “Easier to rise, I’d assume.”

“Getting up from any position is harder these days,” she said, a laugh folded into her tone as she tried to sit up. With some support from Aymeric and planting her hands behind her, Etien finally got herself upright, sighing. “Are Elezen infants really that large? Good gods.”

“Are Miqo’te kits not?” Aymeric had stepped away from the bed to dress for the day, but not before placing his pillow behind Etien’s back to prop her up.

“They develop in litters and our frames are smaller than Elezen women’s. So they have to be smaller. But I don’t have a frame of reference for comparison. Yet, anyway.”

“Neither do I, I’m afraid,” Aymeric sighed, discontented. “I was an only child who never knew his birth mother, and I never had the pleasure of a good relationship with my—ahem—progenitor, so I never really got up close and personal with babies.” He smiled. “Though that will change soon enough. In any event, are you uncomfortable? Are they that large?”

“It’s not actually that bad. We have moons to go before it should be that bad. It may well be that I haven’t been out and around as much, and it’s making my joints tighten up. Hard to tell when it’s all happening at once.”

“Well, you could take a walk through the Crozier. Perhaps the Firmament, if you promise not to got the Diadem. Or visit Fortemps Manor. Edmont will want to see you, I’m sure.” He thought. “Not much is really available to you in Saint Valeroyant’s Forum for now. The Proving Grounds might be a little too much, after all.”

Etien couldn’t suppress a chuckle. “I admit I don’t want to see Chocobos getting hurt, but you know I’ve seen worse. Or do you worry I’ll start a fight with the proprietors?”

“You have seen worse, but you do not have to on purpose.

“Fair enough.” She shrugged.

Aymeric continued. “But all that is for tomorrow and on. Estinien is supposed to be coming soon.”

“I’m having a visit from the Scions, too,” she added.

“All of them?”

She shook her head. “A delegation. I don’t know how many, or who, that means.”

Aymeric sighed. “Well, I hope that goes well for you.”

“I hope so, too. I doubt it will be anything too bad. They probably just want to keep me caught up on goings-on around them.”

“Did they all split up again, taking off to their own corners?”

“It certainly sounds that way,” she replied, sighing just a little. “But I won’t know until they tell me.”

Aymeric paused, kneeling next to the bed. “Please be honest with me, Etien.”

She lifted her gaze from the covers to look at him, nodding.

“Do you feel trapped here?”

“No! No. This is my house. This is my home—er, living with you is the home part. The house is a house. I like it, but we could be in something smaller and I wouldn’t mind. I am frustrated by the fact that I can’t really go too far, but that isn’t your fault. Just a result of the wanderlust being bred into me, I guess.”

Aymeric’s brow knit.

“My mother’s family were seafarers until she met my father. I wonder sometimes if she ever lusts for the sea. And then, I haven’t really been allowed to settle down. Running around Coerthas, forging across the Ruby Sea, stumbling my way across the rift. Getting comfortable everywhere, and never staying.” She broke eye contact finally. “But you don’t need to hear my ramblings about it again.”

He took her hand. “I want to hear what you have to say. Though I suppose I should make my way to the Congregation before Lucia gives me another scolding about timeliness and what kind of man--” he shook his head. “Before I leave you, I need to ask again—are you comfortable?”

“I am. This is only just noticeable. Time to lace things more loosely, start thinking about wearing my nightgown open from the breastbone down.”

“What a sight. When your milk comes, will you wear the whole thing open?”

She clicked her tongue. “Aymeric.”

He gave her a grin, followed by a kiss, and headed out of the room.

“You didn’t eat anything!” She called to his retreating footsteps.

“I will when I get there!”

“It had better be more than a teacake!”

Silence.

“Aymeric!”

He was already out the door, laughing into a brisk, bright day.

_

Estinien, as everyone had come to expect, let himself in, striding to the main bedroom like he had a mission.

“Why look, a dragoon has come to call,” Etien mused as she closed her book, freshly dressed and her hair combed, the frayed braid redone.

“I hadn’t meant to interrupt.”

“Oh, you didn’t. I wasn’t getting very far in this, anyway. Aymeric was right, it is a disappointing read.” She put it down and turned more fully toward him. “How are you today, Estinien?”

He wasn’t sure at first why he flushed at her question. It was simple, the polite yet genuine asking after his health. But the little smile it was delivered with, that was what had him feeling like a schoolboy favored by the teacher.

“Fine,” he answered honestly. “I had been wondering whether the nursery had been begun yet.”

“We’re still talking about that. I think I want the cradle right next to our bed, so I can feed them and soothe them without getting up.”

“Just you?”

She laughed. “There are two sides to the bed.”

“I see.”

“If you want to climb into bed with us some night, you can help us, too. Though I think yes, just me doing the feeding.”

They settled into silence for a while, Estinien watching the sunlight move across the floor, and up onto the bed. Etien had gone from reading to knitting, needles flashing as the Deepwood Green yarn went from a tight ball to rows upon rows of stitches between her wrists.

“Is that difficult?” Estinien asked eventually.

“Not anymore. It was when I was starting out. If I tried to do any fancy stitches, I imagine it would be still. But I do this single basic stitch over and over, and it turns into blankets.”

They both looked at the blanket she’d made for Starlight, folded neatly at the foot of the bed.

“Have you ever tried to make anything else?”

“No. Maybe I should. But up until now, at least, I’ve chosen to leave the complexity to… other arenas of my life.”

Like a flash, Estinien remembered Tataru and Alphinaud’s trial by combat. He hadn’t been present, but he’d heard Haurchefant’s account of it at the Forgotten Knight the night it had occurred, while Etien slept off the adrenaline crash. Just as well; if she’d come along, she would have been too modest for Haurchefant’s liking. They may well have argued, the way close friends (or siblings) did. Not to mention, if she’d been there, Aymeric wouldn’t have been half as obvious about how interested he’d been in the whole matter.

Complex, indeed.

“It’s fine knitting. From what I understand, Dae is making clothing for them anyway. And the Domans sent over a few outfits?”

“Ah. That they did,” Etien beamed. “Hien gave some sort of explanation in the letter. Something about children of such special parents should have special clothing, if I remember correctly.”

“Special parents?”

“Well. Those were his words.” Etien’s ears drooped.

The house steward came in then, with a brief knock on the door. “A visitor for you, my lady.”

“Should I leave?” Estinien asked.

Etien shook her head, and combined it with a shrug. “Not if you don’t want to. Uh, send them in, please?”

A familiar pair of red ears ducked past the doorway first.

“Ah. Isn’t this the man who was calling to you in the Ghimlyt Dark?”

“It is,” Etien said hesitantly.

Estinien leveled his gaze at G’raha. “What do you need?”

“Estinien, it’s okay. He’s my friend.

With a soft “hmph,” he moved to the chair at Etien’s vanity table, leaving the chair by the bed open for G’raha.

“I didn’t realize you had a guest already,” G’raha commented, settling into the chair. He was still slightly awed by the house, by the fact that he was welcomed into the home of his hero, but when he looked at her, he was starting to see Etien instead of Etien Mellifer, vaunted Warrior of Light.

In the cheek markings and crinkled corners of her eyes, he saw Etien, who wore flowers in her hair every chance she got. Who had spent so much time in Il Mheg swimming and eating Pixie apples, and always kept ink and parchment on her. Etien, avid reader, kind-hearted adventurer, and apparently a knitter, if the needles at her side and halfway through a stitch were an indication.

“Estinien comes to mind me every so many days, so Aymeric has less to worry about. I enjoy his company, so I don’t dislike being minded. He does raise a good question, though, G’raha—it’s good to see you, but what can I do for you?”

“Ah, yes. The Scions--” he swallowed, searching for words as his throat bobbed. “We found something,   from before the Sharlayan exodus. So, something of Master Matoya’s.”

“And the Gunbreaker, Astrologian, Academician and mages you have at your disposal haven’t gotten a good look at it yet?”

G’raha tipped his head. “Why… didn’t you say their names?”

“To ask what you need a bard for.” She folded her hands, then thought better of it and folded her arms, accenting the new (but slight) roundness of her body. “Are they not more capable than I am, based on that?”

“But they aren’t you, Etien.”

“I thought you said they had accepted my needing a break.”

G’raha’s mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. “I did say that. And they did!”

Etien nodded. “But you hadn’t found anything yet.”

“...we hadn’t found anything yet,” he repeated, sounding defeated. “We wouldn’t want to leave you out.”

“I think I’m okay with missing this,” she responded. “I’ll be having my own adventure, after all.”

G’raha sighed. “I know this. I have known this. But still.”

“Did they put you up to this, G’raha? If so, who of them? Maybe I can convince Aymeric to let me come talk to them about it.”

“It wasn’t them putting me up to it, it was all of us agreeing we shouldn’t do this without you.”

“Even if I asked you to just do it?”

“What if we made very sure to keep you safe? You won’t have to lead the charge like you usually do.”

Etien took a deep breath as she groped in her mind and heart for an answer. She finally arrived at another question. “Is that all?”

“That is all I came to say.”

“Would you like a cup of tea?”

“No, thank you. I can see I’ve overstayed my welcome.”

Before he could get up and leave, Etien reached out and grabbed his wrist. “I don’t want you to keep leaving my house dejected. Or worse, thinking I don’t care about you—or any of the Scions. Please, have some tea with me.”

Estinien rose. “Would it be ready in the kitchen yet?”

“It should be,” Etien replied with a nod.

When the cups were poured, she sighed, taking a sip. “G’raha, I’d like you to tell me something. Something only you would know. Lyna told me that you had seen a vision of me, when you were checking in on everyone’s futures, to be sure they had aligned with what you had known to be true before. What did you see for me? Lyna wouldn’t say.”

“I saw almost exactly what you said. You’re going to have your own adventure as a mother. And knowing that, as well as knowing what I did to you before you arrived on the First, I wouldn’t dare try to push you to do this now. But I also cannot stop asking. We need you. I know you think that isn’t so, but it is. The Scions have always needed you. Even if they don’t say it, even if you didn’t feel it. You’re needed. By Eorzea. By the star.”

Etien took a deep breath, and held it for a moment before letting out a long sigh. “I’m getting tired. Estinien, can you make sure G’raha makes it out of here all right?”

“Of course.” As he passed by, he patted Etien’s hands. “Finish your tea and get some rest.”

G’raha felt more tense being paraded through and out of the Borel house by Estinien, but he was glad it just hadn’t come to fisticuffs. With the way Etien had reacted last time, and now with Estinien watching over both of them, he hadn’t expected tea and confirmation of their friendship still being intact.

But he couldn’t help but wonder what the Scions were going to do now.

She hadn’t said no, that was true. But she was not going to say yes.

_

The ending of every day was now even more similar to the beginning, Etien on her side as she and Aymeric caught up on their days without each other.

What a luxury. What a novelty. After so many days in the years before, where being apart meant staying apart, this was all they had wanted. And now they had it, night after night. Just another joy.

“So I hear it was G’raha Tia that visited again. What did he have to say?”

Etien’s ears flattened for a beat, then perked again, though not to their usual position. “Well, I wish he had only come to catch up. They all want me to come to the Dravanian Hinterlands, to go look at something they found of Matoya’s—the real Master Matoya, not Y’shtola’s alias from the First.”

“And you told him to remind them that you’re still on leave, right?”

“I did tell him, that, yes.”

With a gentle stroke of his fingers under her chin, he tilted her face up so he could see her better. “But, my dearest? It sounds like there was more to it.”

“He was insistent that I’m needed. He knows how well that works on me—appealing to my sense of duty. Of obligation. He’s right. I’m the Warrior of Light. A tool of the star, same as Minfilia ended up.”

“No!” Aymeric shouted, fist curling in the bed sheets. “You’re a full-worthy being, and the woman I love, and I won’t stand to see you treated this way.”

He’d regretted the explosion as soon as his mouth had opened, but looking at Etien now, he only felt worse. Oh, Fury strike him down.

She was tensed away from him and eerily still, eyes wide and starkly green from being wet with held-back tears.

This was what Estinien had meant when he described her freezing in the Churning Mists, during the argument with Ysale. She looked like she was waiting for him to keep yelling at her. Or worse.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled suddenly, wiping at her eyes. “I wanted to say no to G’raha, but I couldn’t—the Scions have always— I’m sorry, Aymeric.”

He reached out, but thought better of it. How much worse would they both feel if he touched her and she shied away?

“You have no need to apologize,” he said, voice barely above a whisper now. “I’m the one who’s sorry. And the Scions should be, for putting pressure on you like that.” Silently, he added, and Ellifer Nuhn, for ever making you so afraid of someone who loves you raising their voice. “May I touch you?”

She nodded, her body relaxing as she was shepherded into his arms.

“I’m sorry, Etien. I should never had shouted. And I won’t again.” He rubbed her back, listening to her sniffle. Was it foolish that he half wanted to go directly to the Vault and ask to have a confession right now? But he didn’t need the forgiveness of Halone, nor of Her mouthpieces wandering the See. What he needed was to make things right with Etien.

“It’s all right. I can’t fault you for passion.”

“But you might for failing to protect you when you can’t protect yourself.”

“I would never. We’re capable adults.” Her arms tightened around him, so he held her all the tighter, too.

“I am a man of my word, and ‘love and cherish’ means keeping you as safe as I have the means to. Means not poking at scars until they bleed.”

“Old habits die hard, but love never dies,” she replied, cheeks still wet as she rested her head in the crook of his neck. “It really is all right. Thank you. I love you, Aymeric.”

“And I you. More than tongue can tell.”

“Then no need to try. But we’ll need to talk about the Dravania problem after we’ve gotten some sleep.”

“If you want. I could simply contact the Scions myself,” he offered, voice quieter still for how close they were.

“I want to think it out fully first.” Etien explained, “with no one waiting for an answer, nor anyone preemptively making my choice.

“A good decision.”

“Shh, we need to sleep now.”

Aymeric kissed the side of Etien’s head, then ran his fingers down her back again. The star did need her. But so did he.

[the-dragons-knight]

FFXIV Write 2020

Prompt #5 - Voice of the Flesh

Matter of fact - ‘something of obvious nature’

- Very slight mentions of mature material -

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

For the past few days, Katsum had been feeling quite under the weather, yet she could not explain why. It was the strangest thing. One moment she would feel fine, and the next she would be utterly annoyed with anyone around her for no reason at all, most specifically the men. She felt her body temperature shift on very short intervals, going from dawning her furs she wore in Ishgard to striping them off shortly after. As if that was not bad enough, she also felt exhausted all the time that she could barely go out for a walk around the markets in Mor Dhona before having to return to the Rising Stones to lay down. It was beginning to take its toll on her, and she wondered if she was coming down with something. For it to hang around as long as it was, it must be rather serious.

“Katsum,” The young Seeker startled at the sound of Y’shtola’s voice, turning her bewildered sapphire gaze to the hazy, vacant eyes of the blind Miqo’te, “Did you hear a word I just said?”

Katsum blinked, her ears falling when she sighed, “No, I’m sorry. My head feels so fuzzy...”

Y’shtola humed as she stepped around the table to press the back of her hand against Katsum’s forehead, holding it there for a few moments as she asked, “How long did you say you’ve been feeling like this?”

“A few days. It’s only gotten worse each day that goes by.”

The older woman drew away her hand and sat in the chair in front of Katsum, “How do you sleep?”

“Not well. If I do sleep, I wake incredibly hot and irritated and find myself tossing and turning until exhaustion finally kicks in...I’m utterly miserable.”

“You’ve truly never felt like this before? It is entirely new?”

“Yes, and whatever it is, I hope I never have it again,” She glanced up and then realized how closely Y’shtola was sitting to her. Katsum grew nervous and shifted away, “Whatever I’ve caught, I certainly don’t want any of you to catch it too. So best to not get too close, right?”

Y’shtola didn’t answer.

“What is it?”

Again, she did not answer, seeming to ignore the question. She instead folded her arms thoughtfully and asked, “When was the last time you went home to Ishgard?”

“I...I actually don’t remember. Perhaps a week? We’ve been so focused on the matters in Doma, I decided to stay close to headquarters just in case.”

“And has it been that long since you last saw Ser Aymeric?”

“Aymeric…” The very sound of his name sounded so sweet just now, and when it passed her lips, she could barely finish the syllables before Katsum’s mind wandered. She saw his dashing smile, and twinkling eyes, almost feeling his arms wrap around her in a loving embrace. She imagined cuddling flush against him, wrapped in their blankets in front of the fireplace, falling asleep in each other’s arms. Then her mind wandered further to a stray kiss on her neck and then her shoulder, growing ever more daring as she drew into him, letting him lie her down in the covers. Suddenly, her entire body felt like it was on fire, a deep, full face blush on her cheeks and she shivered despite it, her tail curling around her legs as she huddled in on herself, “What’s happening to me…?”

Y’shtola must have heard the tremble in her voice as she knelt down to be eye level with Katsum and whispered, “Calm yourself, Kat. It’s alright. Deep breaths.” She followed the White Mage’s prompting to breathe, slowly returning to normal as her body cooled and relaxed. When she could sit up straight again, the white-haired Seeker moved to Kat’s travel pack, opening it and rummaging through it until she produced a red-colored linkpearl and held it out to Katsum, “Now, I need to hail your husband for me.”

The dusting of a blush returned as her mind started to wander again, but she shook herself and tried to think more rationally, “But surely he’s in a meeting or something important. I shouldn’t-”

“Katsum, this is important. I can assure you of that.”

Katsum’s ears fell back shyly, yet she obliged and turned on the linkpearl and held it up to her ear. The pearl buzzed and chimed as it sent out its signals to its partner. It rang for a few moments before she heard the electrical crackle of a connection, her ears and tail perking up as she listened for the sultry sound of his voice.

“Hello? Katsum, my love, are you there?”

“A-Aymeric...” The concern in his voice did not even cross her mind as nearly all feeling left her body, the blush on her face intensifying as she curled closer to the pearl, “My love~...”

“It appears to be much worse than I thought,” Suddenly, Katsum felt the pearl be plucked from her fingers and her hazy mind snapped to attention as she reached out to try and take it back, only Y’shtola was quicker. She watched her raise the linkpearl to her ear and speak, “Ser Aymeric, it is of utmost importance that you make your way to the Rising Stones as soon as possible.”

Katsum could hear the sweet sound of her husband’s voice from here, and her fur stood on end, her fingers pulling at the fabric of her outfit in frustration as she tried to keep herself seated.

Y’shtola spoke calmly, “She is fine, I assure you. However, I would ask that....Ah, so soon?...Good, I am glad to hear it. I will make sure that she will be ready upon your arrival.” The linkpearl deactivated and she turned back to Katsum and dropped the quiet linkpearl back into her hand, “I will explain further once he arrives. For now, let us gather your belongings as you will be going home for a while.”

Katsum nodded slowly, silently following as she pulled her to her feet and walked them to the living quarters. After gathering her things and a brief change out of her armor as Y’shtola kept pressuring her to, they exited the living chambers to find a deeply concerned, raven-haired Elezen waiting for them. When her eyes met his, Katsum’s body was set ablaze again, and she shivered painfully, “A-Aymeric..!”

She stepped towards him heavily until she nearly fainted into his arms, happily pressing herself into his coat as he held her tightly against him.

“My love, are you alright? Is something the matter? Did something happen in Doma?” She could hear the worry in his voice, yet she could not bring herself to answer as she pressed herself closer to him.

“I believe I can explain,” Their eyes turned to the Scion while Katsum set about nuzzling into her husband’s neck, breathing in his scent like it was her oxygen, “Katsum is experiencing a “heat cycle”.”

This startled Katsum enough to make her freeze, “I-I’m what?!”

Aymeric looked down at her, laying his cheek against her forehead, “Is that why your skin feels so warm?”

“Do you have any knowledge of “heat cycles”, Ser Aymeric? I must say I am impressed if you do.”

“Not in so many words. Only the house cat my adoptive parents left in my care had many such cycles when she was of a younger age. Yet, I unfortunately know nothing more than that.”

“I see. Well, while the concept of them is generally the same, it is slightly different for those of the Miqo’te gene pool of course thanks to our more human traits in our genome.”

“Wait, Y’shtola,” Katsum found it hard to truly understand or comprehend that this was truly happening, “Are you sure that this is...”

Y’shtola nodded, “I am positive. At first, I was not as I figured that surely you had seen plenty of them through the years, yet the more I thought of it, I’ve never seen you show the signs until today. That and your mixed parentage.Your mother was a Hyur, yes? And your father a Seeker?”

Katsum nodded.

Y’shtola turned her head thoughtfully, “Which would make sense as she would not know to tell you, and certainly he would not have known either. Even so, it seems the gene took quite some time to show itself, waiting to until you had a strong emotional bond with Aymeric. What confirmed it to me was your reaction when I spoke of him, the way your body reacted when being reminded of your lover. This would also explain your hostility towards the other male members of the Scions.” She grinned lightly, “But the fact of the matter is undeniable. It is the effects of your “heat” that plagues you.”

Katsum was at a loss for words. Perhaps she’d heard some passing conversation in her travels between other Miqo’te about their cycles, yet it never once occurred to her that she too should have one. The more she thought about it, the more it made sense until she could no longer deny its truth. She curled back into Aymeric’s chest as her shyness took over and her embarrassment became clear.

Y’shtola sighed thoughtfully at the silence, “It’s alright, Katsum. This is a good thing and a totally normal one. However, you will certainly need time to recover from it,” She turned her eyes to Aymeric then, “Ser Aymeric, I leave her in your care. Take her home and watch over her for the next few days until she no longer feels its effects.”

Aymeric nodded and then smiled down at his wife, making her blush darken, “Ready to go home?”

Katsum nodded frantically, moving to take a step forward but her legs seemed to give out under her. With all the swiftness of a knight and the grace of a prince, Aymeric reached down and lifted her off of her feet and into his arms, holding her close to his body and kissing her forehead. With a swooning sigh, the blind Miqo’te wrapped her arms around his neck and laid her head on his shoulder, a quiet purr involuntarily rumbling from her throat.

Y’shtola chuckled as she handed Aymeric her luggage, “My goodness, you are certainly feeling them now if you were not before. I never thought I would hear you make such a sound.”

Katsum’s ears fell back as she buried her face in Aymeric’s coat in her embarrassment, feeling her body start to heat up again as his scent filled her nose.

Aymeric turned to Y’shtola as he asked, “May I ask what will best help her?”

“Anything her body asks of you,” Y’shtola’s grin widened and she turned to leave the room, waving back at them as she did, “Worry not, she will surely tell you. Take care of her, Ser.”

As her body heat increased, Katsum pried her face from his coat and turned her head to look up at him, “Aymeric…” He looked down at her, and whatever expression she was giving him made him lift his eyebrows and a blush dust over his cheeks, “I want to go home...now...”

He swallowed thickly and his grip on her body tightened as he threw her bag on his shoulder and turned towards the door, “We shall be home as swiftly as I can get us there, my queen. Hold tightly to me until we get there.”

The raven-haired elezen had surely never run anyway so quickly than he did that day.

[inviouswriting]

I'll be writing some of the regular reader stuff later tonight. For now I'm focused on my writings. What I want to write for a bit. I do have Urianger and Estinien stuff planned for tonight.

Aymeric x Kiya smut

Another chess match between them, Aymeric had settled on challenging her. He wanted to secure another win against her. He knows of her wicked intelligence even now as he watches the board for a way to take lead.

Kiya is focused on his face, smiling all the while she takes his pieces. He holds a certain concentration but she usually wins when he least expects it. Much like their love life. She had invaded his very life and conquered his heart.

Aymeric takes one of Kiya's hands in his, something he does when he knows he is losing. To try and distract her. Those charming blue eyes lock with her rich emerald green ones.

"Mercy?" Aymeric brings her hand to his lips and presses a kiss to it.

"I thought knights don't yield?" She taunts playfully, her tail taps at his leg. Aymeric chuckles light caught with his own words used on him.

"You are right, but you are no ordinary foe of mine." He presses more kisses on her fingers and Kiya playfully catches his bottom lip with her fingers and tugs just enough. Earning a heated stare, he chases her fingers with a nip grazing skin with teeth.

"How am I not ordinary?" Kiya leans in, almost forgetting it is her turn, she makes her move.

"Check~" her voice is teasing, and she is sitting so close to him. She feels a foot along her leg. She starts to take her hand back when Aymeric makes his move on the board removing the check.

"You are my beloved. Beautiful and dangerous together." Aymeric says, his freed hand takes the end of her lion like tail. He sees the instant reaction of her freezing up when his fingers play at the very end of it. The tufted end of her tail is like soft silk to the touch. He has often petted her tail alone and knows how quickly she is weak in her knees.

"A-Aymeric that is cheating!" She reminds him that this affection is to be won. Aymeric only pets the end of her tail a little more.

"I'm not cheating. Unless you are enjoying it." A wicked smirk. He was definitely losing. And Kiya seals her victory with her queen taking his knight.

"Checkmate~ ah!" Kiya as soon as she declares her win, Aymeric is pulling her into his lap and kissing her full. His hand slipping up beneath her skirt.

"I think I have a good reward for a winner like you." Aymeric ghosts kisses along her lips and cheek. Kiya shudders on his lap when his fingers tug the base of her tail following the silky fur down to the end.

Kiya's senses dull out, he never fails to make her head cloud and her body ache for him. She had won a battle on a board, but lost a war of wills in his lap.

Aymeric whispers things into her ear and gently tugs the end with teeth delicate avoiding the halonic earring on it.

"Say, my love, would you indulge me in something?" That tone he uses, the one like when he asked if she would fight on his side in the grand melee, a soft voice. Kiya looks up into smoldering blue eyes. She is lost specially when his fingers that were under her skirt grip her thigh and pushes her hips to his.

"Aymeric?" They had their match in his office. Using it to wind down a little between stress, now Aymeric was more than fired up to do something even if he lost to her.

"Please?" He pecks a series of kisses on her lips. The hand at her thigh dips between them and toys with her on the outside of her smallclothes. The combination of his words, kisses and hands get her.

"Yes." Ahe has no idea what she agreed to, but she trusts him to know it won't be anything she dislikes.

"Thank you, you'll like it. Trust me." Aymeric moves her from his lap to sit on the edge of his desk. Aymeric gets up from his chair to go lock the door to the room and remove some of the outer armor and robes, leaving himself in the blue under shirt and pants he wears beneath it all.

Kiya sees him kneel down and takes her Ironworks boots off. She had worn one of her favorite outfits for visiting him. A songbird outfit despite the cold in Ishgard. He kept his office warmer for her. She wore the slip skirt underneath.

Aymeric begins to tug those off of her leaving her bare under the skirt for his eyes to devour. He instead starts with giving her a full kiss.

Kiya parts her lips and a tongue delves into her mouth to lift hers to his. She tilts her head a little and deepens the kiss, her tongue finding it's way to his mouth. Their kiss far from innocent now. Not with the way his fingers work the front placings of the dress to bare more of her skin for his hands to roam over.

Aymeric leans her back on his desk till she is laying across it. Kiya feels hands tug open the front after the buttons were undone. The bralette she wears under tugged down and gloved palms press to her breasts.

"A-ah! Aymeric!" Kiya moans out into the kiss, and Aymeric is quick to silence her, not wanting the wrong ears to hear them. She had forgotten where they are.

"How about a new little game between us? You, under all circumstances cannot moan or shout. While I torture you teasingly. You get three chances, if you raise your voice too loud three times. I will have my way with you." Aymeric teases her nipples as he talks to her. His eyes gleam playful to her. He tugs off his gloves resting them on the desk near her.

"And if I succeed?" Kiya bites back a moan when he pinches just right to cause pleasure and tugs her up a little.

"Then when we get home, I will let you try anything new on me." Aymeric cups her full breasts in his hands and squeezes again. He enjoys the feel of them in his hands.

"You are not going to make this easy are you?" She asks, her answer is the devilish smile he gives her.

"Then you accept?" Aymeric asks lowering his head down to hers to kiss her when she agrees.

Kiya nods and they seal it with a full kiss again. Aymeric deepens the kiss to how they were moments ago. Kiya's mind swimming feeling all the passion backed in it.

She almost misses the hand trailing up her bare thighs and dance along the soft skin at the junction between thigh and groin. Her legs close on the hand and Aymeric slips his hand further down, fingers tracing the outer folds.

Kiya feels his fingers press along and pet her soft skin. He deliberately presses his middle into the crease as his hand cups her. Aymeric draws a whimper out of her. Not loud enough for him to remind her of her voice. He feels her already wet, as his finger teases the entrance.

"Hmm? Are you already this soaked?" He questions her. Kiya's face burns a little in embarrassment.

"Show me." Aymeric brings his other hand to part her thighs to get a better look of her. Kiya tries to press her legs closer together enjoying denying him a peak at first.

"Okay, then use your hands." Aymeric sits back he waits for her to oblige him. His own pants getting uncomfortable with how hard he is.

Kiya raises her legs a little and parts them. Aymeric sees the slit but not what he wants from her. He waits for her to catch on. Kiya covers herself with a hand then shyly parts her folds with her fingers.

Aymeric only sees just a little of her. He has seen and played with her more than enough.

"More. Open yourself up more to my eyes." Aymeric asks of her, he licks his lips at seeing her other hand going down her thigh and with both hands she spreads herself open for his eyes.

"There, now hold yourself like that for a bit. Do not remove your hands until I allow you to." He instructs her, Aymeric undoes his pants and shoves them down off his hips. More than too tight.

Kiya sees Aymeric lower his head down to her core, and feels him kiss her thigh. He mouths kisses along the inner thigh gracing Kiya's fingers with kisses as he passes them. He leaves a teasing lick at the top of her hood the covers her clit, circling the nub and ignoring it in favor of kissing her other hand down to her entrance.

"I still cannot see that well." He catches her face brightening and waits till she does what he wants her to do.

Kiya presses her fingers in enough and parts her folds more so he can see the hole more clearly.l, and how wet she is from the moisture on her fingers she makes sure her clit is exposed enough too.

"There we are. Enjoying this I see." Aymeric rewards her with a kiss on her slit pushing his tongue into her along side her fingers. His own fingers go to relieve her hand holding the hood up and rubs her clit in teasing circles.

Kiya makes her first sound, a loud enough moan and she bites her bottom lip after to stifle her sound. Aymeric already heard it, and leaves a smack of kisses on her thigh.

"What was that I heard? Remember you need to be quiet~ not that I blame you. You look like you are in delight though." Aymeric says while pressing more kisses along her folds, his tongue going back inside her.

His fingers teasing the nub above his mouth tweak it gently. Enough to draw a quiet moan out of her. Kiya thrashes her tail and feels Aymeric trail his tongue up to join his fingers teasing her. Languid licks from the hole up to her clit but not on it. He circles it with his tongue, ignoring it in favor of running his tongue on other spots available.

"Please, Aymeric... I am going insane!" Kiya's voice is quiet but pleading to him. Aymeric peeks an eye up towards her.

"Please what? You know by now, I cannot fulfill your desires without clear instructions." He is teasing her. The tip of his tongue dangerously close to the nub just teasing it with the heat of his tongue.

"Ah... Aymeric... please lick me..." she keeps her hands where they are. Remembering his words. Aymeric pulls his mouth away again and blows a hot breath on her core.

"Lick what? Here?" His tongue finds her fingers, cleaning them of her juices.

"Not there." Kiya catches his stare and his eyes bore into hers as he places another teasing lick along the outer fold just under her other hand till his tongue dips into that spot near her entrance.

"Here then?" Aymeric sees her legs shake when his tongue sweeps over the opening.

"A-ahah! Please! Aymeric!" She feels more circles even a stray hand to push two fingers inside enough for his tongue to push in again.

"Not there! Here!" Her thumb moves to press on her clit. Aymeric swats her thumb away.

"Say it, for me love. And keep your hands here, in fact. I want you to put two of your fingers inside and please yourself." Aymeric says, he places sweet kisses along her thigh and waits for her to comply. He presses fleeting kisses just to the nub denying it his tongue.

Kiya obeys his demand and moves her right hand to press her fingers in and starts to pump them gently. Aymeric watches her hand move, but waits for her to oblige the other request he made.

"Aymeric.. please lick my clit...?" She asks nicely, and Aymeric smiles sweet at her, the sweetness is betrayed by how hot his ice stare is.

"Is that all you want me to do is lick it?" Aymeric is close again to it, hot breath over the nub and his tongue sweeps over the top licking along where the hood is. He can feel the bundle of nerves hard.

"Oooh, you... tease me!" Kiya let's an exasperated sigh escape her, her fingers had stilled a bit inside her, Aymeric sees this and sits back denying her, again.

Instead he gives her a sigh, he arranges his sitting so his legs are more apart. Aymeric uses a hand of his own to stroke himself in slow pumps. He teases her with a sight she enjoys at the tip of his cock. Beads of precum.

"Aymeric! Please!" Kiya starts to sit up.

"Stay down. Lay your head back. Your fingers. Remember?" Aymeric says as he gets up from the chair and walks around the desk to the front where her head half hangs off it.

Kiya stays where she is to be, and watches him as he stands in front of her.

"Open your mouth." Aymeric instructs, and Kiya parts her mouth.

"Wider. You know how big I am." Aymeric is enjoying their fun and time like this. When kiya opens her mouth more for him. He guides his erection into her mouth. As he does so, he leans down over her. His mouth descending onto her aching clit pressing the flat of his tongue against it.

Kiya's moan is muffled around his cock and pushes her hips up to feel more of his mouth on her clit. Aymeric feels her suck gingerly, and lightly thrusts his hips to her mouth very aware to not gag her by accident.

Kiya continues to pump her fingers into herself and Aymeric watches them work in her.

Aymeric lifts her rear up a bit for himself, his mouth lavishing her clit with his tongue and sucks on the nub. He even runs his tongue down along her fingers buried inside.

Kiya feels a rush through her spine when Aymeric tugs her fingers out and replaces them with his own. His fingers alot longer than hers and a thicker able to simulate his dick easily.

Aymeric also switches it up to push his tongue again inside her. He feels her sucking harder, when he draws his hips back her tongue rubs across the tip of his erection before she swallows him back down.

Just when Kiya was teetering on that edge for release, Aymeric stops, he rests his head against her thigh, his fingers keep her folds parted as he watches the entrance twitch for him. He draws a sobbed moan around his cock. When she was quiet he pulls himself from her mouth but takes himself into his hand when he straightens himself up.

"Keep your mouth open, my love." He instructs her, he wasn't going to cum in her mouth yet. He wanted to spare his seed for inside her this round. He carefully runs the head of his cock around her lips.

Kiya feels the velvet soft of his skin against her lips and pokes her tongue out to touch it against just under the head. Aymeric let's her while he has his fun in teasing her this way.

"Tell me. What do you want me to do. Your mouth, or grind against your slit. Or would you rather I be inside you?" Aymeric asks as he gives her the option to suck on him.

"I want you inside me..." Kiya wants him in her. Her insides ached for it. She even moves her hands down to part her folds for him. Aymeric almost loses his composure with that sight of his beloved inviting him in such a lewd manner.

"Inside where. You have three options for me." He keeps up the game, he was already going to be inside her. He just wanted to tease her a bit longer.

"Inside my pussy." Her face burned saying it. But the effect it has on him. He always makes her say embarrassing things.

Aymetic walks back around the desk and reangles her on top of it to lay on the length of the desk. He climbs on top with her, and raises her hips to his. Using his fingers he parts her folds again and lines himself to her entrance rubbing just the head against her slit, bumping it against her clit then back down to barely push inside her.

The reactions he draws out of her. He enjoys seeing her face lit with pleasure. Kiya covers her face with her hands, his stare too intense specially when he has her raised in such a way. Aymeric takes himself into his hand and liken with her mouth, he runs the head along her entrance.

Kiya sobs out her third cry, she had let one out earlier that he caught but didn't remind her. Aymeric relents in his teasing seeing how she is covering her face.

"Kiya, my love. Look at me." His change in tone draws her out from behind her hands. Aymeric is smiling at her, he holds a hand out to her and she takes it lacing her fingers with his. Aymeric chuckles lightly and pushes into her drawing groans out of both of them.

He wastes little time in teasing her further and starts to thrust. Kiya sighs in pleasure, loud enough for his ears to hear her. Aymeric tugs her by her hand he has up into his lap. Kiya wraps her legs around his waist and once she is able to be at face level with him she kisses him deep. Aymeric returns the sweet kiss as he pulls her waist down on his.

They both release moans between the kisses she feels it more with him. Aymeric feels her labored breaths on hisbshoulders after they part from the kiss. Her sighs and moans getting louder and change to more needier. She was teetering on that edge again. A few powerful thrusts from him and she is squirming on him.

Kiya can feel him throbbing and focuses on squeezing him in time to the thrusts inside her. She feels his hands dig into her sides.

"Do that more love. Please. Almost there." His moans in her ear is enough encouragement for her to squeeze down on him again. Kiya6hands slip up into the back of his hair and grips unintentionally hard when his thrusts hit a particular spot inside.

"Kiya? Did that hurt?" Aymeric questions feeling her grip on his hair. His head follows back on the tug and starts to slow just in case.

"Don't you dare stop! That feels so good!! That feels so good!! You feel amazing!!" Kiya pants out and moans out at the last words. Aymeric feels her hands go down from his hair to his back digging her nails in.

Ayneric thrusts harder till his lover is in breathless pants into his shoulder and nails are leaving lines in his back.

Kiya tenses and her voice breaks when she reaches an orgasm. Her cries sobbed into his chest and shoulder. Aymeric feels her tighten on him and he is almost pushed out of her with how she cums against him. Aymeric sees her face, the glossy eyed stare, breathless and a sheen of sweat on her from their movements together.

Aymeric follows her not too long after, he cums just as hard inside her, and pushes through to seat himself as deep inside as he can get. He hears her sigh content in his arms.

Kiya pants against his shoulder. He had removed his shirt at the same time with his pants. Aymeric holds her against him nuzzling her face with his own.

"Feeling good?" Aymeric breaks the silence, and pulls her back to take in her blissed out expression. He had reduced her to her elated self. Normally he sees it when they're alone together in bed than his office.

"I don't think I can walk." Aymeric laughs a little, a bit of pride in himself for being able to make it difficult to walk for her. People will be able to tell she had been with him as she walked fine earlier.

"Want me to carry you?" He offers, and Kiya nods yes.

"In a bit though. I want to stay like this a little longer Aymeric." Aymeric smiles down at her and lays her back on top of his desk. He guides her legs apart so he fits between them. Aymeric enjoys the feel of her inside a bit longer till he pulls out when he knows she is uncomfortable even soft he is still a stretch to fit.

He splays loving kisses all over her face, shoulders, neck and ears. There isn't a spot he hasn't kissed on her. Kiya soaks up the affection happily, a sigh escapes when he had pulled from her. She ached to have him in longer.

"Did not have enough yet? Let us say... we get dressed long enough to home only to repeat this lovely event where you dont have to hide your beautiful voice. I think I want to hear it echo in our room." Aymeric sits up with her, and moves to sit in his chair noting the room a bit colder, the fire from the hearth behind was fading. He hands Kiya her clothes and watches as she is shaking to put them on. He will definitely have to carry her. Lest others gossip that Aymeric has sex with his wife in his office.

Once they were dressed for public eyes, and Aymeric spends the next several minutes tidying his desk up from fluids and scattered papers.

Aymeric collects his love into his arms and nuzzles her face with his again. He begins to carry her out of the room. Kiya is comfortable in his arms and rests her head against his chest ignoring people as they ask if she fell asleep.

It is a easy walk from the Congregation to their home. Aymeric leaves kisses all over her face when they get closer.

They are still young in their marriage together.

[ladyramora]

Hey Ram! Huge fan of your writing! Could we maybe get ambiguous WoL x Estinien or Aymeric if you've got the time? ♥️

(Yes and yes. Thank you 💞)

.....

....

...

You wake with a splitting headache, but on the softest pillows you’ve ever slept on. You bury your face in them, breathing deep with a groan — and pause as a familiar scent fills your nose.

You crack an eye open blearily, and know at once where you are.

How in the seven hells had Estinien managed to get you back to de Borel manor without waking you?

The door opens and the lord of the manor himself walks through it with a tray in hand, looking far too dazzling and bright-eyed for how early it must surely be.

“…‘stinien?” You slur in sleepy question.

Aymeric smiles, setting the tray down and helping you sit upright, fluffing your pillows gently. “He said he’d return to see you a little later this morning. He had a few errands to run.”

Aymeric hands you a glass of water which you accept gratefully. Then a bit of painkiller is next because, gods, do you need it.

“I admit,” Aymeric says in humor with a little laugh, “that when I sent Estinien off to confess his heart, I did not think you would be drinking so heavily.”

You blink at him, setting your empty glass aside as the minty tasting painkiller instantly sets in to reduce your headache. “That was you?”

Aymeric smiles with a knowing look in his eye, tilting his head. “Did you think Estinien merely took it upon himself to finally admit his interest in more than friendship?”

A grin tugs at your lips. “No, I suppose not.” Estinien had been wearing fancy cologne, after all. Aymeric’s influence, no doubt.

Ayneric hums, smoothing your hair away from your face with an elegant gloved hand.

You eye his outfit, fit more for leisurely house clothes than armor, and pat the bed beside you. “Lay down with me?”

Aymeric chuckles gently, cupping your cheek and smiling warmly as you lean into his hand. “Would that please you, my dearest?”

You nod your head, turning your cheek into his hand to kiss at his palm. “I missed you so much, Aymeric.”

Aymeric looks at you fondly. “And I you.” He moves around the bed, crawling in on the other side to shuffle close to you under the covers.

You smile at him, curling close and ducking under his arm to cuddle to him and breathe in the scent of him.

You nuzzle your nose against him, humming happily. “Mm, you always smell so nice.”

Aymeric chuckles, cupping the back of your head. He dips his chin to press a kiss to your hair, humming softly. “Well, thank you. I am rather fond of your hugs.” His hand tips your chin up, thumb stroking over your lower lip. “And your kisses, of course.”

Your face flushes, headache entirely gone thanks to the painkiller, water, and Aymeric’s own soothing presence. “Kiss me then?” You ask, eyelashes fluttering.

“Me first,” A voice interrupts, and you turn your head in surprise to find Estinien holding a steaming mug of something — coffee, tea? — and a delicate bag that you know contains one or more of your favorite pastries. Your mouth waters on reflex. Though for the pastries, or the even yummier idea of finally kissing Estinien, you know not. Both? Yes, both was good.

Estinien is looking particularly handsome as well, the sod. Unlike you, you surmise, the copious alcohol of the night before hadn’t left him with a raging headache.

“I promised I’d kiss you when you were sober,” Estinien says, kicking the door closed behind him and ignoring the soft grunt of dismay Aymeric makes watching him do it.

“And I’ll not have Aymeric steal your first kiss of the day, and muddle our kiss with the lingering feel of his stupid, full mouth.”

You look to Aymeric in apology, grinning at the raised eyebrow, almost-pleased look on his face at Estinien’s insults, and say, “If I do remember correctly, he did promise that.”

“Ah, well,” Aymeric sighs, and cups your chin to turn your face to press his lips to your cheek.

Estinien looks entirely disgruntled. “Aymeric, I will fight you.”

Aymeric chuckles gently, unrepentant.

You snort a laugh, rolling over into your back with Aymeric tucked against your side and beckon Estinien with a curl of your fingers.

“Come on, then, Azure dragoon,” you say with an impish, flattered smile. “Do you not have something tasty for me?”

Estinien glances down at the cup and bag in his hands, and says, “Aye.”

You smile at him flirtatiously, fluttering your eyelashes, “Well, I was talking about your lips, but that works, too.”

Estinien blinks, stunned, and you’re gifted with the flush of his cheeks and ears in the soft morning light.

Oh, it wasn’t fair. He was too adorable and sexy all at once with his hair all wild and lips no doubt touched up again with a shiny balm against the winter climes. Was he wearing that cologne again, too? You’d have to check, but only if he would come closer already..!

“Come to bed,” You plead, rolling over to reach out for him, and Aymeric follows to mold himself to your back, lips pressing to the back of your neck.

Estinien walks forward, and you blink, suddenly realizing he wore some sort of house slippers on his feet instead of his usual boots.

Aymeric notices where your attentions have gone and says simply, “There are no dragoon boots to be had stomping around and scratching up the floors of House de Borel.”

You smile at that and Estinien both as Aymeric sits upright with you so Estinien could hand you the drink he had brought first, careful not to spill.

It is deliciously warm in your hands, and heaven on your tongue as you take a deep sip. “Mm.” It was perfect. Just how you liked it.

He sets the bag on your lap next, and you hand Aymeric your cup to peek inside. You make a sound of delight, reaching in and snatching up your favorite pastry — one of many in the bag! Gods, you were being spoiled! — and shove it into your mouth with a moan.

“Was this part of the errands you had to run?” Aymeric asks in good humor.

Estinien grunts, watching you eat with a soft look in his eye.

“Estinien,” Aymeric says fondly. “How very sweet. And cheating, besides, I think. Trying to curry favor, hmm?”

Estinien levels him with a grumpy look, and does not deny it.

“You are!” Aymeric laughs.

You chew at the bulge of food in your mouth, taking the cup back from Aymeric to take another large sip. Saying, soft and sweet with a similar look about your face, “I’m feeling very wooed, and favorable besides.”

Aymeric tsks teasingly, “Cheating, really.”

Estinien arches a brow with a taunting grin, “How does one woo a Warrior of Light? Through their stomach seemed a safe enough bet.”

You eat another pastry, silently agreeing, and empty your mug of delicious warm beverage before setting both aside to instead make grabby hands at your favorite Azure dragoon. “Now I want Estinien flavored kisses, please.” You tap your fingers to your lips, “Your lips, ser dragoon, I must have them. Pretty please, with birch syrup on top.”

Estinien ducks his head, smiling bashfully.

“Adorable,” Aymeric comments, tickling the back of your neck with his fingers as he kisses at your shoulder. “Both of you.”

Estinien frowns through his blush, “Shut your ridiculously full mouth. I have a Warrior of Light to kiss.”

Aymeric hums, circling his arms around your waist and hugging you lazily from behind. “Go on, then.”

Estinien clears his throat, shuffling forward on his knees. You smile at him, tipping your chin up as his hands cup your face. You gasp a little with how cold his hands feel on your sleep warmed skin. Oh, his fingers were faintly trembling. Was he nervous, or just cold?

You cup his hand, turning your head to kiss his palm just as you had done with Aymeric half a bell before.

Estinien is gazing at you intensely, blue-grey eyes bright with emotion. You smile at him, and he smiles back.

He leans in, and you clutch at his collar, impatient and drawing him in.

Estinien snorts, glancing down at Aymeric’s arms wound around your hips.

“I suppose I will just have to share,” Estinien says it like it’s grudging, but his smile is pleasant, eyes fond.

“Indeed,” Aymeric murmurs, cheek tucked close to your back. Haha, was he feeling sleepy again?

You nod happily in agreement, tipping your head back, and demand, “Kisses.”

Estinien chuckles, and dips his head to do as you bid.

It was everything you’d hoped it would be and more. Estinien kisses like he fights. Intense, focused. With purpose.

You quickly become lost in the sensation of his kiss. To the taste of the balm on his lips and something dark and sweet lingering on his tongue. Chocolate? Whatever it was, you chase after the taste of it with your own tongue. Estinien gives a rumbling moan, clutching you to him desperately. You kiss for so long that your lips begin to feel sensitive, your head dizzy with him.

Aymeric clears his throat with a soft “ahem” and you both pause, drawing away like you’d forgotten he’d been there.

“So greedy, Estinien. I should also like a turn,” Aymeric says in mild reprimand, and leans in whilst turning your cheek to claim your lips as well. You lean into him helplessly, still dazed from Estinien’s kisses.

Ohh, Aymeric was an accomplished kisser as well. It was good that he reminded you, lest you forget. You give a soft whimper, feeling entirely greedy and far too spoiled.

“I was hardly finished,” Estinien growls at Aymeric, and tips your face back towards him to kiss you again, harder this time.

You drag your fingers through his hair, groaning lowly, and then turn your face without promting to kiss Aymeric as well, cupping the back of his head and twining your fingers through the satin of his dark, gently curling hair.

Estinien makes a sound of disgruntle, and you switch back to him, twisting locks of Aymeric’s hair around your fingers as Aymeric kisses at your neck and shoulder with hot, stupid full lips.

Your lips are buzzing, throbbing with your heartbeat, but you can hardly stop under such decadent attentions. Perhaps you’re greedy, but it was hardly your fault. Mayhap the blame should be placed upon the Gods that made these two far too irresistible.

Or on the powers themselves that wrote your Fate so intertwined with the both of them.

Aymeric claims your attention again, sucking your bottom lip between his own, with wicked blue bedroom eyes under a fan of charcoal dark eyelashes.

Estinien sucks a mark under your jaw, softly growling, “I will not yield to you!”

You shiver, eyelashes fluttering, and foolishly blurt, “Are we... about to have sex?”

Estinien pauses. Aymeric as well.

“You’re right,” Aymeric says, pulling back and swishing aside the hair that had fallen into his eyes. “We might be getting a little carried away, Estinien. This is not a competition, nor a race. We should not push our lover too fast in a bid to show the other up.”

Estinien grunts, and nips you. You give a soft yip, cupping around his ears as Estinien kisses up your jaw to your lips to kiss you firmly one more time.

“Aymeric is right,” Estinien admits, grudgingly. “Forgive us, we were… overzealous.”

You flush, shifting in place. “I’m not complaining. It wasn’t bad, I’m just…” Not ready for both of them that way yet. “We should,” you point your finger between you and Estinien, “first. You know? Before we,” you clear your throat, adding Aymeric to the equation — who was all smiles, but still with intense bedroom eyes. “With all of us, together.”

Estinien nods, smiling hesitantly. “Indeed. I agree with that sentiment. I should like to have your full attention the first time.”

You bob your head, cheeks burning. “Good,” you squeak, then clear your throat. “Good. Um… Can we,” you look between them, smiling and ducking your head sheepishly. “Can we still cuddle, though? And the… the kissing was nice,” you lick at your kiss-bruised lips, “just maybe… slower? Softer?”

Aymeric hugs you from behind, humming gently. “I think we can manage that, my dearest.”

Estinien is nodding, shuffling after you as Aymeric pulls you back to lay down with him.

Estinien inches forward as you hold your arms open for him, and then sinks into your embrace with a soft sigh.

You breathe deep, and chuckle. Estinien was wearing that cologne again, and the combined smell of their mingling scents was quite pleasing indeed.

“Your cologne smells nice,” you say softly, winding locks of Estinien’s hair around your fingers.

Estinien hums, cuddling you close, and dragging his fingers over Aymeric’s side just behind you. “All Aymeric’s doing, actually.”

You smile. “I thought so. He has good taste.”

Aymeric kisses your shoulder, voice sweet as he murmurs, “Why thank you.”

Estinien hums, pulling you forward and shifting you to lay on your back. You blink up at him, and then Aymeric, as they both prop up in their elbows to smile down at you.

“Kisses were included, yes?” asks Aymeric.

You nod, cheeks blushing and lips tingling.

Estinien nods, “Good. Then kisses you shall have.”

[artisangoldfish]

Aymeric x Goldie shippy writing 1/? Angst then fluff? I THOUGHT IT WAS GONNA BE NOT SO FLUFF BUT YANNO it happened

"Tell me who did it."

"I 'unno, some drunkard..."

"Give me a description at least then..."

"Forget about it."

"I am not going to let this slide!" Aymeric fumed with a harsh gaze. Fingertips gently prodded at the small line of stitches on the Auri's head.

"That stings!" she hissed back and swatted his hand away. "Don't just touch stitches!" The stitches were in a small line against the hairline and above her left temple. Those cerulean blues gave a glare back at her. The whole 'guardian' attitude he was giving off was just riling her up even more. "Don't look at me like that..." growled words were given as she shifted on the sofa.

Despite the stubbornness, he reached over anyways. One hand, taking one of hers and holding it. Then the other moved under a horn to cup a cheek. Brows pinched together in frustration when her head jerked to the side. "Someone threw a vase at you... Of course I'm going to be upset. That had intention and I will not allow that."

"To be fair, my horn took the blow. When the vase broke that's when a fragment cut me. At least I know how to give myself stitches." None of that seemed to help the case as his visage remained a mix of irritation on concern.

"And even if it was a drunkard, they should be taken in and held till they properly clear their head." His lips pressed together into a frustrated line while trying to tend to her. His hands trying to take a hold of her arms. She just wasn't having it, moving her head away constantly.

Then finally a grumble rumbled out from her and she jerked her arms away. Shoulders hunched up and arms crossed over her chest. "It's because some people still see me and think I'm Dravanian. They think my blood is dirty or that I'm some rotten thing for existing in this city." Words were uttered lowly as she pulled her legs up. Arms going around knees, chin pressing to the tops. A defensive sort of sitting position as she thought over that moment. Aymeric simply turned more on the couch to give her more proper attention. "Most of the time I'm fine. A lot of the folk I help out, greatly appreciate it. They even try to shove what little gil they have into my hands and I have to convince them to keep it. But others... I feel their stares still. Some people can't seem to change."

The history of Ishgard. History could last forever even if books were burned away. People's opinions and views could be soaked on events despite change coming to pass. Some minds were just wrapped up in their old ways, no matter what. not wanting to hear others tell them otherwise when it came to what they believed.

Aymeric knew very well of the hardships. "The details of our births or what we are, does not define us." Words were softer now, having a care about them. He tried again, reaching over to slowly unravel her tense form. "It is our actions and what we do with our lives. Some are stubborn, but it is as you said. While those you help were wary at first, they learned about you the more time spent. I see how appreciative they are about you. They will even come to me at time to ask how you are doing." Her stiff posture was melting away the more he spoke. That had him smiling and moving a hand up to move hair out of her face. He leaned forward and tilting his head to catch her gaze with a grin."I guess if you are a dragon, that makes me a great sinner." Words given with a charming tone. That granted him a smile now from her, to which he happily leaned in to press their lips together.

The kiss was gentle but was so much more. It was acceptance and it was security. Her regular nature though was not so easy to melt to soft romance. She didn't like the feeling of weakness.

When the kiss was broken, it didn't take much to move. With them already being close all she had to do was to shift onto his lap. Legs sliding to where she straddled him, causing his brows to perk up. One of her hands reached up to cover his smiling mouth. Fingertips squeezing his cheeks which only had him chuckling. "Ah yes, what was that again? Something about the greatest sin being to lay with a dragon? Oh wow, you are such the heretic. For shame."

All he had to do was to lick her palm to have her draw her hand back with a scowl. Hands affectionately gave a squeeze to her thighs before sliding back to hold her around the waist. "Hmm, yes. I must be some heretic if it means I don't have to live a hateful life. If it means I am able to cherish you."

Her eyes narrowed and hands moved up to pinch his cheeks. "Stop saying such things..."

"Oh? Would you much rather I continue to sin then?"

That line certainly granted a smirk on her lips. "Well now..." Hands moved so her fingertips could undo the few buttons of her vest. With his brow quirked, she continued with the bit of string at collar of her undershirt. A weak tug had it loosening and opening the shirt to the ending at the middle of her chest. This had her shirt slack enough to fall off her shoulders if the vest wasn't there. "Well then, go on. Worship 'dragons' then, you sinner."

Usually he held a professional look about him when out and about in Ishgard. Even around friends, he had some sort of calm softness. However with this, a smirk spread on his lips and there was a flame flickering in his gaze.

He'd do just that as well.

Arms tugged her closer to him with one pressing firmly against the small of her back. At first it was to hold her there, but then that hand moved to take a gentle hold of her tail. His head leaned in to give that praise to her. Lips finding there way to pepper kisses on scales and even her horns. Even pressing one to the spot on her forehead.

Aymeric did it on purpose, really. Leaving her neck for the last destination. Those areas were gifted with nips that most wouldn't think an auri to feel. There was sensation in a sense however, and it was still certainly pleasing. More if it's a lover doing the bites. Then he was daring, digging those teeth in at the presence of her collarbone; thanks to the slack shirt.

He couldn't really leave marks on scales, but there were other spots he could. Despite him pleading for no obvious marks on his own, there was enough coverage with his usual outfit. He made it known he didn't care if others saw them walking around together. Didn't even care of the eyes directed at his residence when she stayed.

Even when he woke up late at night to see her face with that soft glow from the hearth; that was happiness. Their forms wrapped in a furred blanket and nothing else. To see her sleeping and content, that was worth the looks.

[kivaember]

what about a date? Where would aza go for a date vs where would aym go? Aza trying to be romantic and cater to aym shenanigans ensue...I hope you writing juices flow freely at any rate

IT DID INDEED HELP thank you ;;w;; here you go! 

“You… made a reservation at the Bismark…?”

Aza looked a little disgruntled at Bluebird’s open displayof shock, crossing his arms over his chest as he tilted his chin stubbornly, “Yeah,for a romantic dinner.”

Bluebird reeled at the revelation that Aza even knew what a romantic dinner was – thiswas the same person who thought a good first date for him and Aymeric was to fighta pack of Behemoths (which ended as disastrously as one would expect) – and squinteda little suspiciously at him. Aza didn’t just do these things unprompted. Something was afoot here.

“How’d you even geta reservation?” she asked, “Would’ve thought they’d take one look at your scruffy,blood-stained mess of an outfit and kick you out before you got a word inedgewise.”

“Lyngsath owed me a favour,” Aza huffed, “Also, hello?Warrior of Light here?”

“Ah,” Bluebird nodded slowly, “Exploiting your fame. Verynice.”

“Moving on,” Aza sighed, “I didn’t tell you about it so youcould mock me. I told you because,um, well, you’re right about the scruffy outfit…”

Bluebird perked up, utterly delighted, “Is this happening?Are you asking me for fashion advice?Me?”

“It was either you or Tataru, and I’m not opening myself tobe ambushed by a pack of tailors again!” Aza hissed, looking adorably flusteredat that memory. That’s right, Tataru had arranged for him to be fitted for alovely outfit – too bad he got spooked by the, uh, aggressiveness of the tailorsand hid up a tree for six hours, so that nice outfit still remained a conceptin Tataru’s ambitious little mind, “Just help me!”

“Okay, okay…” Bluebird rolled her eyes, “Though, you’reasking a lot. You’re gonna whine no matter what I pick.”

“I won’t whine.”

“Oh?” Bluebird raised her eyebrows, “What if I say, ‘noarmour’?”

Aza, predictably, made a face, “But-”

“No armour,” Bluebird repeated, unable to hold back thelarge, shit-eating grin curling her mouth, “No breastplate, no gambeson, no leatherand no weapons.”

“What if-”

“If you can sneak it into your breeches without anyone beingthe wiser, then sure,” Bluebird relented, because Aza was probably going toslip in an entire armoury in his smallclothes otherwise. She long learned thatsome things you needed to make concessions on, when it came to Aza, “But you’renot bringing that stupid meat cleaver.”

“Fine,” Aza said sullenly.

Bluebird tapped her bottom lip in thought then, looking herbrother up and down. He was wearing his usual adventurer fare – all darkleather with a few suspicious stains here and there, as well as clear signs ofhasty repair, topped off with a pitted, old breastplate that had seen betterdays. His gear was well-worn, but reliableand well cared for – but to the less experienced eye, he looked like some hoboadventurer that didn’t have two coins to rub together. Definitely not the outfit for a romantic date in a high-endrestaurant.

The problem was, understandably, Aza disliked being vulnerable in open, public spaces. He had anxietyproblems, and being clad in sturdy, protective clothing mitigated that. Puttinghim well out of his comfort zone, in an unfamiliar situation, while alreadybeing mildly anxious for things to go right… it was a disaster in the making. Probablynot as bad as the Behemoth Date, but… disastrous in a different way.

Bluebird smiled. There was no way she was going to miss witnessingthis dumpster fire.

“Right, I’m not an expert on fine dining,” she said slowly, “ButI think I can rustle up an outfit that won’t immediately peg you as some crazy mountain hermit.”

“Hey.”

“Unless you wanna go to Tataru?”

“… I’m fine, thanks.”

Bluebird clapped her hands together, smiling brightly, “Great! So, c’mon! We’re gonna go shoppingfor your perfect date outfit.”

“Urgh.”

–

The Bismark was theplace to go, if you had the patience to wait for a reservation opening and themoney to back it up. It boasted a diverse menu, with dishes from all over thestar made by skilled, experienced chefs from the Culinary Guild. Commonly, ithosted people of great import from the city states, which, naturally, began toinclude Ishgard now that they had opened their frozen gates to the EorzeanAlliance at large, be they successful merchants, famous mercenaries or even Ul’dahnpoliticians.  

Still, despite the time it had been since Ishgard’s slowacceptance into Eorzea as a whole, this was still Aymeric’s first visit to theplace. It was both familiar yet strange – parts of it reminded him of the sophisticateddining halls for the Ishgardian nobility, yet it wasn’t stiff about it. Set out on an open deck with a lovely view of theLimsa Lominsan decks and the coast of Vylbrand, the smell of salt air on awarm, coastal wind despite the late hour, the stars above glittering bright ina purple-blue streak across the navy blue sky… it was leagues above any grey-stonedIshgardian dining hall, stifled with traditional formality.

But what reallymade it was Aza. His partner hadreally come through for him tonight.

“So, um, how do you like the place?” Aza asked him almost shylyafter their starters were served and their wine glasses filled, “I know it’snot as fancy as that Ishgardian place…”

“I love it,” Aymeric said easily, “Far more relaxing, forone.”

Aza smiled, clearly relieved, and Aymeric took a moment toadmire the look on him. For once his partner wasn’t stubbornly clad in armour(though, no doubt armed, as he had the disconcerting ability to smuggle in allmanner of knives in his smallclothes without detection) and was dressed in arather simple yet flattering affair of shirt and trousers. It looked distinctlyGridanian in some way, but Aymeric couldn’t place the exact style.

Whatever it was, it looked nice. Aza looked nice – not to say he normally didn’t, but even Aymeric wanted to see him in something that wasn’twell-worn, blood-stained armour from time to time.

“You look lovely,” Aymeric murmured, “Who dressed you?”

Aza’s smile eased into something wry, “Couldn’t I havedressed myself?”

Aymeric just looked at him.

“…okay, fine, itwas Bluebird,” Aza grumbled, his bottom lip jutting out just so. Aymeric had a fleeting urge to nip at it.

“She did a finejob,” Aymeric purred, picking up his wine glass and hiding his smile behind itsrim, “Very fine. I do love how thatshirt hugs your chest. It leaves naught to the imagination, and I want to-”

“Alright, lusty,” Aza interrupted, his cheeks slightly pink,“Stow that talk for later. We’re being romantichere.”

“Ah, sorry. Remind me to continue that thought after a fewmore wine glasses,” Aymeric said a mite impishly, “Do you have anything plannedfor after the meal?”

“Got a room we can crash in the Drowning Wench,” Aza said,then quickly added, “Don’t let the name fool you. The rooms are nice, and Iknow Baderon, the guy who owns it. He makes an amazing breakfast.”

An amazing breakfast… why does Aymeric feel like he’s heardthat before? Ah, wait. He knew where. “Is it that ‘La Noscean toast’ you made afew weeks ago?”

“Yes!” Aza perked up, delighted as always whenever Aymeric remembereda culinary dish of his, “I don’t make it as well as Baderon, though. So, if youthought mine was nice, wait ‘til you try his!”

Aymeric smiled, something warm and fuzzy brimming in hisheart at Aza’s clear, pure happiness, “Hmm, I’m looking forward to it.”

The meal proceeded from there. It was… nice. Aymeric triednew things, Aza happily explained the more obscure dishes in the menu, and theyspoke about trivial and mundane and simple things while steadily drinking theirway through three wine bottles. It wasn’t as strong as the paint stripperIshgardians normally passed off as alcohol, in fact it was weak as far as wineswent, but it was enough to make him a bit woozy and flushed while Aza leaptstraight into drowsy by the time their desserts came round.

“Aza, darling, your cheesecake isn’t a cushion.”

“Mmff…” Aza mumbled, barely keeping himself fromfaceplanting said cheesecake by propping his cheek on an upturned palm, hiseyes squinted half-shut, “It looks… soft enough too.”

Aymeric chuckled, reaching out to carefully tug theuntouched dessert out of faceplanting range, “Should I order us some coffee?”

“Mmm…”

Aza didn’t look much better after an emergency shot of espressowas delivered, but he did perk up enough to eat his cheesecake, luckily enough.Whilst it looked very appetising, Aymeric himself was too stuffed to try andput that away by himself, and it would be a shame to waste the whole thing onaccount of Aza’s drowsiness.

“You might… have to carry me to the inn,” Aza mumbled aroundhis fork, the silverware bouncing up and down from the movement of his lips. Itwas a shocking lack of table manners that would’ve scandalised any Ishgardiannoble. Aymeric simply found it adorable, “M’sleepy…”

“Quite a distance to carry you,” Aymeric hummed teasingly, “You’requite heavy, after all, I might end up dropping you.”

“You callin’ me fat?”

“Muscular, more like,” Aymeric muttered, “And incrediblydense.”

“Oi.”

Despite Aza’s fears, however, once the bill was paid andthey made their unsteady way out of the restaurant towards the Aftcastle, Azawas able to move under his own power… albeit he had to cling tight to Aymeric’sarm, pressed close to his side and letting out a low, rumbling purr thatsignalled his utter contentment.

Around them, Limsa Lominsa was well awake, despite the latehour, the distant clang of bells and horns, the murmur of crowds and sailorshitting the taverns or skulking back to their ships – and above, the starstwinkled bright, with the splash of the galaxy stark against the night sky.Aymeric soaked it all in, and all the tension he had brought with him to LimsaLominsa just… seeped out of him, relaxed in a way he rarely felt nowadays, whatwith… everything happening.

“Thank you,” he murmured softly to Aza, who merely hummedsleepily at him, “Tonight was lovely.”

“’nythin’ for you, han’some…” Aza mumbled, “M’happy youenjoyed.”

“Mm…”

With that, they continued on to the Drowning Wench, lookinglike any other couple stumbling back from a successful date at the Bismark,rather than the famed Warrior of Light and the Lord Commander of Ishgard. Foronce… they had a night of utter romantic normalcy, and it was nice.

Yet it remained to be seen, how many of these nice datesthey had left, with how things continued with Garlemald, and the Ascians…

[keicordelle]

Forced Vacation, Ch. 2

Fandom: FFXIV Rating: E Pairing: Estimeric Word Count: 3.1k Tags: Established Relationship, Dom/sub, Dom!Estinien, sub!Aymeric, Caretaking, Foreplay, Porn What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Explicit Sexual Content, Explicit Consent, Teasing, Free Use, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Butt Plugs, Creampie, Rough Sex, Comeplay, POV First Person, POV Aymeric de Borel

Summary: It seemed as though have the job of the Lord Speaker was signing off on contracts, an ever-growing pile of paperwork requiring Aymeric to work long into the night to keep up with the rapidly evolving state of Ishgard's new republic - a task that was made especially difficult when a certain white-haired imp had his tongue in Aymeric's ear, utterly determined to distract him from his work.

It was only the next morning that Aymeric discovered precisely why Estinien had been so set on pulling his focus from the contracts he'd been signing. ’I, Ser Aymeric de Borel, do agree to refrain from work of any sort between this fifth day of the fourth umbral moon until the eighth day of this same month, during which time I agree to submit to the whims of one Estinien Varlineau and follow his every order.’ And there, at the bottom, was his flourishing signature, a touch distorted from his distraction but undeniably his.

This was certain to be an interesting three days, to say the least.

-

It did not actually take me as long to fall asleep as I'd feared, and when I awoke, feeling better rested than I had in moons, the heat of Estinien's body still warmed my back.

"Good morning," he murmured, and I nestled back into him. "This morning, you shall rise and take a long bath then don the outfit I have selected for you. From there, we shall see what tasks I have for you today."

My eyes flew open as the memory of this morning rushed back to me. Ah yes, that was why I was lying comfortably in bed with the sun shining brightly through the windows and not in my office sorting through papers and meeting with dignitaries. For three days, I was to follow Estinien's every order and indulge his every whim.

He started off the first day very kindly, most of his commands intended for my well-being and not his own whimsy. I certainly hadn't expected him to take this so far as to choose my clothing for me, but the outfit he had laid out while I was in the bath was one of my favorites - more proof that he knew me as well as I knew myself. Better, perhaps, as his next instructions were to "Sit and eat," and he laid before me a plate with a healthy slice of cake upon it.

"This is an interesting choice for breakfast," I observed, taking up my fork.

"Yes, well, you have a most wicked sweet tooth, and I figured there is hardly a better occasion to indulge it." He sat across from me, a much smaller piece of the same confection laid before him.

I dug in with perhaps slightly more fervor than was polite as he watched with a small smile. The cake was heavenly, fluffy and rich with the taste of vanilla, the buttercream frosting melting across my tongue. "Halone preserve me. Did you make this?"

"Aye," he agreed, eyes lowered in an expression that might be called bashful, were I willing to risk Estinien's wrath to say as much.

"It's marvelous! I see your practice with cake has certainly paid off. Much to my benefit." I licked frosting from my finger, watching the way his eyes darkened at the memory of licking it from other places in one such experimental practice session, but he made no move to act on whatever licentious thoughts beset him. We chatted about nothing of consequence, savoring the taste of his glorious cake and the tea that accompanied it, and he did not so much as touch my leg with his foot while we did.

-

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[xiakha]

FFXIVWrite2021 Prompt #17 - Destruct

The Dotharl were many things, warriors, raiders, bloodthirsty monsters, unrepentant killers, and suicidal berserkers, but they also knew how to party. To celebrate the fight that the Khagan had with their Khatun, the fight that the Khagan's allies had with the Oronir, and the Dotharl permission to approach the Pillars, they were invited to revelries for the night. To drink and sup and dance and enjoy themselves as the warriors they were.

The Mol were invited too.

Maybe it was to be expected that the tribe most likely to burn itself out in a murderous conflagration was also the tribe most likely to burn itself out in a raucous celebration. Sometimes the murderous conflagration and raucous celebration were distressingly similar.

Y'shtola almost choked on the moonshine she was sipping, and it wasn't because of the fumes this time. Ye gods, they weren't wrestling in the tent behind her, they were--

"Oh, honored Slayer of Little Suns, how are you enjoying yourself?"

The Dotharl Khatun swaggered over to where Y'shtola was sitting by the bonfire. She held in one hand a leg of Mol mutton and had her other arm wrapped around the waist of a Mol man, Caragai, if Y'shtola recalled correctly. His hands were otherwise occupied with cups of liquor, so he used an elbow hooked under Sadu's armpit to keep her upright. But for how slovenly she was (and for how much she stank of alcohol and then some) her smile seemed as charismatically bloodthirsty as ever. Caragai looked somewhat lost and confused, but also flushed and satisfied with himself.

As Y'shtola concentrated past the drink-induced slurring of her senses, she realized that the man was stripped to his smallclothes, a simple loincloth, and his outer garments were draped over Sadu's otherwise naked form. The Miqo'te was not surprised that it would end up being that kind of party. It explained why Bujeg was sent away with all of the Dotharl and Mol children. The Dotharl seemed to have trouble not doing things in excess, but the casual lack of propriety even the Khatun exposed trod on her Eorzean sensibilities. She could not imagine say Aymeric or Merlwyb joining in a similarly carousing tidings.

Though the Elder Seedseer might.

"I am quite well, thank you, Khatun."

"Are you not one to sample the meat?" She gestured with her leg of mutton, but also vaguely at Caragai. "There are many who wish to revel with you, but I understand it suits not everyone."

Y'shtola shot her surroundings with a piercing glare that helped throw new light through the drunken haze. Hien was in the midst of a drinking game that involved wrestling. There were many, men and women, lined up to challenge him. Cirina was waist deep in Dotharl men and had more liquor poured into her mouth and onto her bare chest like fuel for a fire. She roared victoriously.

"There are those who have no taste for it or have reservations, and others wish to stay true to their beloved or their Nhaama. All of this is fine, and I will leave you in peace to enjoy what you wish."

"And you, Sadu, oh great Khatun, what would you have me do, were I willing?"

Sadu moved to bow, nearly bowling over Caragai and spilling much drink, revealing quite a bit of herself to the Miqo'te, "I would enjoy a contest! Be it drinking or, as Xiao called it, fucking," she seemed to relish the obscene Eorzean word, "If you have the stomach for it, I will gladly have you!"

"Is that where the Warrior of Light has gone off to? I assumed she was still eating her fill."

"Ah, but she is! And how glorious her prowess. I gladly bowed in defeat of her once again."

This fact, well, it struck a weird part of her brain. Y'shtola claimed not to be in any relationships. Though Xiao's devotion pleased her, they didn't use the words "beloved" or "girlfriend" for each other under Y'shtola's insistence. There was but once that Y'shtola allowed Xiao to drop the tribal letter while addressing her, and that was when she had first awoken after being grievously injured by Zenos. Her scars tingled on her midriff as she thought about them. Thus, it was quite okay for either of them to do as they wish and sleep with others and maybe even settle down with someone else without a change in what they were to each other. A relationship as open as the sky was wide.

And yet... Here was the feeling that Y'shtola had again, the same she felt after the battle that morning, with how openly and fiercely Xiao and Sadu had stared and smiled at each other as they fought. Perhaps it lead her to be more vicious herself towards Magnai... But he deserved it.

Was this jealousy? What was she getting jealous over?

"Fear not, she will not be in need of your conjury tonight, we Dotharl have at least that much restraint. Though she may need a thorough soak in the river!"

Y'shtola drained the rest of her liquor and slammed the cup down harder than she expected.

"Mayhap, I shall indeed join the festivities. I can teach you a bit of conjury if you would perhaps allow me to learn a bit of your sorcery."

Sadu hissed in approval and pushed away Caragi while grabbing her cup from him, apparently having sobered up enough to stand. She downed what remained and tossed it over her shoulder. She tore another large chunk off the leg of mutton and handed it over to Caragi.

"I hope you mind not the the witness to this fight! He is too spent to wield his weapon, but fresh blood may revitalize him!" Caragi's robe was unceremoniously dumped to the floor and Sadu strode forward as stark as the cloudless night sky.

Y'shtola hurriedly undid the clasp and zipper of her outfit, only fumbling slightly. This was happening a bit faster than she expected. She let her robes pool around her on the seat and pushed them off her body. It was better not to have Tataru clean questionable stains out of the outfit she made the Miqo'te. Sadu came up, grabbed Y'shtola's shoulders and--

And they were wrestling. Just wrestling. Y'shtola had similarly latched onto Sadu's shoulders. Neither of them touched the other below the waist, or even indeed above the waist really. They were just pushing at each other, trying to get the other to fall over. By all accounts, it shouldn't have been too hard because both of them were somewhere beyond drunk, but the wide stance they both took to wrestle with somehow provided them with more stability.

"This," Y'shtola said between grunts of exertion, "Wasn't quite what I had in mind." She gave in first and Sadu managed to drop her to the ground, but the Au'ra's balance was none too steady, and she toppled over before she could mount Y'shtola. Or perhaps it was on purpose. Seizing the advantage, Y'shtola rolled over on top of Sadu and purposefully ground her crotch into the slightly shorter woman.

"I have not had one such like yourself since I left my homelands, are there many among the Xaela like you?"

Sadu laughed and ground back, eliciting a gasp from the Miqo'te. "The Dotharl may be born body and soul of one gender, but 'tis not who we are! We freely live how we wish, unlike the rigid and stern Oronir."

Speaking of rigidity, "Very well, then teach me your sorcery, show me how you wield your staff, and try not to disrupt your cast."

She dropped her lips by Sadu's facehorns, "I wish to experience it all." She gave the sensitive pointed member a lick with the roughness of her tongue.

Sadu responded with uproarious laughter. "At once, Slayer of Little Suns!"

* * *

As the fires burned low and the reveries faded into some hoarsely mumbled drinking songs, Xiao found Y'shtola curled up with Sadu and a few others. She pushed away Caragi's slumbering form and draped her cloak over Y'shtola and herself. Xiao stank of drink, meat, sweat, and sex, but Y'shtola nestled her head in between the Warrior of Light's arms regardless.

"I wonder if I should take up black magicks," she said, spent, "'Twas silly to have avoided them so. How freeing they must be!"

Xiao nodded her head. Sadu had that effect on people.

[francel]

rambling;

i have nothing good to post, so i thought it might be fun to compile some answers to various ffxiv- and rp-related memes and questionnaires i’ve done on my private accounts! please enjoy my screaming.

8. Is there a character that embodies your good traits, or traits you wish you had? Several characters? Which ones and what traits?

i wish i was handsome and suave like all my characters thanks

13. What’s something you’ve never thought about your character?

a certain someone recently decided to remind me that francel's house has no bathroom... and i had honestly never considered, in two whole years of playing him, where he goes to pee?

"do you mean poop" francel is a delicate maiden i will not consider this

(we figure there’s probably an outhouse... somewhere...)

3. What’s something that surprises you about your canon?

Wiltswys: You think me cold? Well, fie on what you think! I wanted something better than tilling salty fields and spilling small fry out the nets, and occasionally taking a passing sailor into my bed for more o' the same!

LISTEN THIS IS THE MOST VULGAR LINE IN THE GAME I SWEAR TO GOD

i have done this quest at least... 4 or 5 times now and it never fails to make me scream. and every time i do it i have to zoom in on her and look at her face because she is a really cute roe girl, so i wonder what her taste in sailors is...

19. Give me an appearance-related headcanon of your choice.

LAUGHS OK hmm what have i never said before...

i have definitely mentioned that i don’t think francel likes his appearance very much — he especially wishes he had lighter-colored eyes like stephanivien and aurvael...

i personally want to think that chlodebaimt looked very different from francel BUT, although i have never datamined the necrose knight (i really should), a friend of mine took screenshots and his eyes at least look like francel's eyes

...but they might very well have just used a generic house haillenarte knight model for that, so who knows what chlodebaimt looked like?

i also like to think that baurendouin (francel's father) persists in the belief that his youngest son will do great things because he at least superficially resembles driancoin de haillenarte (the haillenarte founder you see in the haldrath flashback scene). i mean, i doubt portraits of driancoin survived or anything, given the nondescript statues of thordan's knights, but i’m sure comments about him did?

"he was fair of face and fair of hair" idfk some shit like that

5. What do you hate about your canon?

i am always, ALWAYS so tired of hearing people complain about how “no one ever” treats the wol like they’re “a normal person” ah, yes no one no one ever has treated you nicely never mind the fact that people regularly apologize for turning to you in their hours of need, and for asking you to kill things, and you usually just dismiss their applogy no one!!! has ever!! been nice!! to the wol!! i know the entire arc of my francel writing career has been bitching about similar things but at least i find new ways to do it

ok wait i have to vent more about how people still persist in the NO ONE WAS NICE TO THE WOL BUT HAURCHEFAAANT!!!!! delusion like tataru fucking made you clothes recently IS THAT NOT THE ULTIMATE EXPRESSION OF LOVE? YOU'VE FINALLY BEEN REWARDED WITH SOMETHING PHYSICAL AND TANGIBLE!! STOP COMPLAINING ABOUT HOW YOU DON’T HAVE FRIENDS!!

24. What’s a song that reminds you of your character?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1B7VKiJhU_s “Dear Jack,” by Jack’s Mannequin.

lately, i’ve been listening to this... i don't like every part of this song, but lyrically, it is such a perfect francel song

dear jack, i write you as a friend dear jack, i write for fear the end is coming soon to you it's not so clear it's clear to me it's clear as glass

dear jack, wherever you are, hold tight wherever he is, shine light right there be strong i dare

i had songs for you i had all your music written out the words came when i heard you screaming i had plans for you until the plans fell through now there is no turning back, my dear jack

11. Something you like to look at.

i have complicated feelings about haurchefant these days, but sometimes i go and look at this mug and cry about his handwriting

like from a lore perspective i know he can't be writing in english because they write in eorzean but until then, my friend...

14. When writing for specific characters, is there anything you have to do to get in the specific mindset?

yes! but it depends on the character. for ramza... i either read shakespeare (for real — i have lifted quotes wholesale from hamlet and the tempest) and/or listen to "rather be" by clean bandit? seriously, that is my most strong ramza association... which is weird because the song and the game are like 20 years apart? or i listen to the FFT ost...

for francel i have a whole playlist, but most importantly i either go on twitter and look at wolchefant fanart or read bad wolchefant fanfic on ao3... (don’t judge me; it keeps the bitterness alive)

18. Is there anything you really wish you could do that you feel is outside your current ability? A concept that you wish you could pull off but are uncertain about?

UMMM... hmmmmmmm...

i dont know... i don’t really think any plots are outside of my current ability, but i admire my friends for being so consistent and on the ball with their dignified prose? i can be dignified too, but at some point i'll crash and start writing intensely silly tags

i would like to do more plots where francel is a badass for whatever reason, but that’s just wish fulfillment

17. Which character is the easiest to write? Why do you think that is?

francel is the easiest to write because he has the ugliest emotions

ramza is the hardest because he is always so virtuous

everyone else has varying levels of self control, but with francel i can usually succumb to base impulse reactions. i like his unguarded nature...

6. When writing a character, do you find it easier to work on their external or internal ticks first? oh, internal, definitely. i think my tags suffer from the fact that i often don’t describe what my characters are doing or what is around them? just... just assume on my behalf lmao.... so IF FRANCEL IS CAUGHT UP IN INTERNAL TL;DR there's a 90% chance he's doing that kicked-puppy stare at the floor

5. Has fandom ever ruined a pairing for you? XIV, hard mode: no Haurchefant/WoL.

LMAO THAT HARD MODE...

xiv's fandom has rarely "ruined" pairings for me, as in "i liked them before but i hate them now solely because of fandom"... that said, i think i kind of liked the idea of zephirin and aymeric as a rivalry ship, but i hate when fandom takes the "oMG ZEPH RAPED AYMERIC WHEN HE WAS HELD CAPTIVE" route...

i think this perception of zephirin as this horrible awful evil man comes from the fact that the information on the ward happened after the game was released, so... in the span of time between "zephirin killed haurchefant" and "wait actually zephirin is a virtuous man," people formed their opinions, you know?

but it's still really annoying, and to some degree the misconception persists...

i was also okay with guydelot and sanson at first, but i’m a little annoyed by them now, too... it’s not for any particular reason — i just think the fandom is annoying in the "THEY'RE SOOO MARRIED!! EVEN THE OTHER QUEST NPCS SAY THEY'RE LIKE A MARRIED COUPLE!! THEY’RE SO CANON!!!" way and i’m like Please Shut Up. that said, i guess it’s mostly jealousy because none of my pairings are ever canon, but whatever...

so i guess i'm going with zephirin/aymeric, guydelot/sanson... and oh btw like. urianger/moenbryda to a degree? i remember when the wind-up moenbryda item came out and the english item description was like "you don't want to know what urianger did to this" or something like that, like, i just took it as — like urianger probably dressed it up in a little maid outfit and had it serve him tea or something equally otaku-like?

but the entire fandom was like OMG HE JERKED OFF TO IT OR USED IT AS A SEX DOLL OR SOMETHING and i was like ... okay. like if that's how you're determined to see it, fine, but fandom always takes the worst possible interpretation of something i swear to god

13. Unpopular opinion about XXX character?

LAUGHS WELL I GUESS MY USUAL TIRADE: i don't think of haurchefant as the perfect cinnamon roll angel and actually he annoys me a little...

my friend just finished running coerthas quests on her balmung alt and like... even she commented on how brusque and condescending he seems to francel? and she has no reason to be tainted by my perception of him, it's just... it’s just that he is brusque and condescending.

back when i liked haurchefant/francel, i told myself that it was just how he acted in the heat of the moment and i was sure he was gentler later... but now we’ve seen so much of haurchefant that from the way he treats francel it really feels more to me like francel was just a friend of convenience. i don’t know. i’m bitter. maybe i’m just bitter because it’s easier to cope that way.

14. Unpopular opinion about your fandom?

um... well, i think everyone in the ffxiv fandom also agrees that the fandom is annoying...

something i sometimes worry about, but which is not exclusive to ffxiv, is like... people who rp wind up with such a different impression of things than people who just play the game? 

i'm not judging either side on this but... i have rp friends, and i observe the rp community on tumblr/balmung, and i also have friends that are just gamers? and you know, like. sometimes rpers get carried away and invent all these narratives, like i know some tumblr rpers had a bunch of "plots" where a murder mystery happened in ishgard and it was all full of like noble OCs and intrigue or something?

but my gamer friends will sometimes be like, “ishgard is so boring.” so they... see it differently? you wind up viewing the game differently based on what you do in it.

there's also the divide between the english version of the game and the rest of the world, which i bitch about a lot but

just as an example, in english the nobles of ishgard are kind of broadly characterized as being unintelligent and shallow and foppish, whereas the other versions of the game really take a much more neutral approach?

or well i can really only speak for the japanese, but in general the german and french versions of the game are loyal to the japanese, however, 2.0 content was often based on the english...

so, for example, 2.0 content was EN->FR, but ever since 3.0 most of the patches have been JP->EN/DE/FR

however, the EN version continues to make changes, whereas DE and FR don't really change many things!

so i worry a lot about the different perceptions people have of the game, and what that means, like, when i write fanfic...

does my interpretation of coerthas align with other peoples' interpretations of coerthas? probably not. that’s something that’s deeply distressing, as a writer and as someone who prefers to have control, but i don’t know...

17. Instead of XYZ happening, I would have made ABC happen...

STARES INTO THE VOID it's it's too late for any of this

2 years ago i would have told you without hesitation that i wanted haurchefant to be alive and for him and francel to have eloped together, but now i just...

i've learned to play with the cards i've been dealt