#and tansui's struggle

[thevikingwoman]

Tansui is looking for some peace to think on the letters Meryta sends him from the First, but is interrupted by Rasho who offers friendly companionship and asks too many questions. Companion to Letters and Longing, but can be read alone

Fandom: FFXIV | Words: 1651 | Read on Ao3

Rasho & Tansui | mid-Shadowbringers | friendship Rating: Teen. Pining, unresolved feelings, friendship, alcohol, drunkenness

Sake and Truths

Tansui climbs his way up the stairs to the outpost, abandoned as it is, they do not post guards here at most times. But the view is nice, and the grass is soft and no one tends to come here unless sent by the Captain. It’s a good place to think.

He drops himself into the grass, round bottle beside him, and takes out the letters from where he’s tucked them in his hakama. He did not bother with a cup. He reads. Meryta is impossibly far away, facing horrors he cannot imagine. Something aches in his chest with it. A familiar feeling, along with others he’d rather not think about.

He drinks, the rich taste coating his tongue, a burn down his throat. Takes out pen and parchment, but he does not write, electing to pick up her letters again. Only a few, but the latest one is longer, the writing more fluid. Perhaps she has never written much before, but she does now.

The bottle of sake goes to his lips again, rich and too fine to be drunk like this, dripping down his chin to wipe off, but he does not know what to do with his latest realization, the feelings that only grow when he thinks of her. He drinks, wipes, closes his eyes, turning his face towards the setting sun.

“I thought I’d find you here.”

Rasho. The roegadyn sits next to him, fabric shuffling against skin and grass. It’s quiet up here.

“Did it occur to you I came here to be alone?”

“Yes.”

Tansui opens his eyes and turns to his friend. Rasho has brought another bottle of sake and two cups. He’s pouring sake into one, the other left in grass. Tansui had not bothered with a cup himself after all, and Rasho is not one to insist.

“It’s a nice one,” Rasho says. “Export bound for Ishgard, by my understanding. Good thing the captain needed to lighten his ballast.”

“How fortunate indeed.”

Tansui lifts his own flask, and takes a deep drink. Rasho lifts his cup and drinks with him. They sit, and drink, in silence for some time, the sun slipping lower towards the ocean and their shadows growing long.

“So,” his friend says. “Writing letters?”

It’s a question, and fair enough. He has no family to correspond with, and any letters related to their newfound diplomatic relations with Doma must go through the Captain.

He nods, unwilling to break the silence just yet. It’s not like he’s started writing yet. He doesn’t have much to say, other than perhaps wax poetic about the quality of the sake, and implore her to stay safe. To come visit, again, but it feels like refrain. He knows she may not be able to, but – how many times can he ask?

“Meryta, is it?”

He nods again, squinting at Rasho. He wonders if he can let him carry the conversation all on his own. Rasho drinks for his cup, almost comically tiny in his large hands. Just for the taste of it, Tansui knows.

“It has been a while since she has visited.” Rasho looks at the folded papers still in his hands. “You care for her, do you not?”

“I do.”

What does his friend want him to say? That he misses her, and that every time the aetheryte hums with incoming travelers, his heart leaps in his chest like he is some kind of lovesick youngster?

“And yet you wait for her here, while she’s off doing what she does, without you.”

“What would you have me do? I –” He feels hot and angry, his voice raised, “she is – somewhere, outside this world, and I’m – I belong here Rasho, never mistake that.”

“Peace, friend. I know. That wasn’t my point.”

He’s ashamed, immediately. He knows Rasho does not doubt his loyalty, same as he doesn’t doubt Rasho. Doma freed and all, the Captain stays here. As does he.

“I’m sorry.”  Tansui takes another drink and flings himself backwards on the grass, his head a bit heavy from the sake now. “She’s out there, in danger, doing Kami knows what with her friends.”

Rasho waves his apology away.

“It bothers you.”

Trust Rasho to say the obvious, so he doesn’t deign a reply. There’s something else that bothers him besides the danger she’s in, an uncertainty in waiting which he barely wants to name.  

“Have you at least told her, how much you care?”

“No.”  He grabs his bottle and drinks the last of it, while still laying down, the rich liquid filling his mouth and burning its way down to his belly. The grass is soft and pleasant. He has written of his wish to see her again, and she likewise, but nothing certain. No promises, and it grates him more than it should.

“I don’t know if she feels the same,” he admits. It sounds sullen to his own ears.

“Have you asked?” Rasho pours himself another cup from his own bottle, only the third. “Mayhap you’d be less bothered if you did.”

“Or mayhap I should care less.”

“You should make up your mind. And talk to her.” Rasho lifts his cup and drinks. “What do you want, my friend?”

“I – I want… Well, it’s not like I need –”

Rasho doesn’t say anything when he falters.

I would be simpler if he didn’t care, but he’s not sure not caring is what he wants. It would be easier if it was. To let go of these feelings he can barely admit to anyway. To simply have her come or not come, no use for worrying. No use in trying to determine if she’s with someone else, if someone else is touching her.

Perhaps he should just find someone else to fuck, someone to have a good time with. He finds he has no taste for it, the idea wholly unappealing. And the idea of her being touched by someone else sets a fire burning inside of him. He wants to keep her for himself. Selfish and frustrating, she isn’t here, not even on this world, and he should be content to wait and not expect her to adhere to promises not made. And yet her letters make it seem like she – he wishes he didn’t care, that she didn’t occupy his thoughts like this.

But she does.

A silence settles over them, and Rasho says nothing when he sits up again and grabs Rasho’s bottle and drinks and drinks again.

He’ll write letters and see what happens. She’s – just trouble anyways, and he’s never been one to pursue a permanent relationship anyways. It’s fine to keep it casual. Fine.

“I shouldn’t – I should just – ’s fine really. It’s just casual, you know. I don’t need to – care that much.”

“If you say so.”

“It’s late,” he says, and stands slowly. He’ll write another day, it’s too dark and he’s not even sure where the pen went.

Rasho stands with him.

His head is fuzzy by now, swimming. The stars are out. Rasho picks up the letters gently, with a care he’s grateful for. He’s unsteady as he gets up, but it’s fine.

“I’m fine.”

“Sure you are.”

Rasho gently catches him, when he stumbles on something – who put that there – a stupid rock.

“You’ll break your neck on the stairs.”

“Will not.”

He may not be making his case well, as he’s still holding on to the other man. Rasho sighs, and turns his eyes towards the starry sky.

“Look, Tansui. Either I’ll pick you up and carry you like petulant child –”

“’m older than you –”

“You certainly are. Either I’ll pick you up, or you can ride on my back.”

Tansui lets go of Rasho and sways. The sake was rather strong, or there was a lot of it. He sighs, and lets himself be hoisted on his friends back.

Rasho walks carefully down the stairs, and continues across the sand towards Onokoro proper. Tansui’s head is swimming. He’s not been in such a state – he’s propelled back in time, to when they were both younger and foolisher, but Rasho never had a taste for excess. Rasho would carry him back from Isari, just like this, when Tansui had overin– had drunk too much. He’s too old for this, now, and all over a pretty girl with pretty purple eyes and green hair and so fierce and so soft and the world’s not fair to her –

The world swims when Rasho makes it up the stairs. He should protest, he should walk, in front of the men, but the Rasho doesn’t care, and he’s lost in thought again, the last time she was here, in his arms –

“— she’s just so nice.”

“So you’ve mentioned, friend.”

“But it’s not –”

The torches are awfully bright and he pauses and squints. Rasho says nothing.

His thoughts wander again, and he feels he needs to let Rasho know, he’s decided that he won’t need to care. Did he already say so? Her eyes would be luminous in the dark here, brilliant band of purple like nothing else. Right. Casual things, casual visits.

“Is not going to be…. I’ll just enjoy her visiting, you see. Enjoy a lot.”

“I see.”

He is quite certain from Rasho’s tone that he doesn’t. They’re by his door now, and the other man pushes it open, and carry him all the way to his bed. Undignified. He tries to stand, but fails, and puts his head on his pillow instead. It doesn’t smell like her.

“It’s nothing really. She’s just very – I think I love her.”

“Ah. There it is.”

“You knew,” he accuses.

“I’ve known you a long time.”

“You’re a good friend.”

Tansui awkwardly pats Rasho’s knee, the tall man looming over him.

“Sleep, and it’s good thing I am, or I’d not let you shirk your duties tomorrow.”

Tansui is asleep, snoring, before Rasho leaves.

[generationdespair]

Tansui Hamasaki illustration. Ultimate Surfer.

Honestly I didn't know how the waves would look like in Komatsuzaki's style so I just sort of guessed. I was also struggling with getting his face and expression right.

[stormbabylore]

Ooh, I have a few!

I've an AU in which Aeryn just stops after StB. She is shattered, exhausted, unable to cope, and truly convinced her closeness to the Scions causes them more harm than good. So she walks away. She returns to the Ruby Sea (the first and—at the time—only place she's experienced a true memory of her former life), where Tansui convinces her she is allowed to make selfish choices—she is allowed to stop. Even to stay. Despite never officially joining the Confederacy, Rasho makes an unspoken exception for Aeryn that no one seems to question, especially not considering how useful she makes herself. But emotionally, she is an utter wreck. She tosses her linkpearl into the ocean but frequently has nightmares about receiving desperate calls for help from the Scions. She is haunted by the voice of Hydaelyn and the fear that she has done the wrong thing, but she can't find the courage to abandon her perceived freedom from the bloody, ceaseless struggle she has left behind. She may not be happy, she reasons—she may never feel happy again. But everyone is safer without her, she is sure, and... And she is free.

(Two more "bad ends" behind the cut, but beware: they are EW spoiler-heavy!)

In canon, Aeryn begins losing herself to despair as the Scions, one by one, make their sacrifices in Ultima Thule. The breaking point for her is when Urianger chooses, willingly, to give up his life alongside Y'shtola. But at Urianger's parting behest, G'raha manages to pull Aeryn back from the brink and give her the hope she needs to press on; and when he, too, then goes, she is able to maintain her composure for the twins. That said... I could easily imagine G'raha failing to break through to her, resulting in a bad end. Aeryn would lose herself entirely, willingly releasing herself to Dyanmis to become a blasphemy. G'raha and the twins might try to get through to her, but I don't think she'd have the capacity to hear them any longer and would flee toward the Endsinger's song of despair. Meteion might take pity on her (given their past connection) and attempt to grant a swift end to her strife. But because Aeryn's inner power is so strong, it's more likely that they would fuse into something even stronger than the Endsinger. The sheer magnitude of all their suffering would trigger Aeryn's star magic, which she/they would unleash (as stars do) to bring an abrupt and explosive end to everything—even the Final Days.

Finally, my screenshots from this challenge really got me thinking about what Aeryn would be like as an Ascian. There are several ways she might have gotten to that point. Maybe post-HW, if she found herself in the position assumed in canon by Urianger... or perhaps in ShB, had she managed to manifest her past self's empathic abilities and forged a different connection with Emet-Selch. Truthfully, though, I'm kind of stuck on the idea of her offing Fandaniel (without truly killing the Ascian) and getting sort of possessed by Amon. It would be a split situation in which her soul (plus Azem power plus soul of a literal star) can't be fully controlled, even by the Ascian's methods, so she'd probably be a little bit bonkers. But I think her empathy for Hermes's situation would have made her uniquely suited to an odd kind of soul symbiosis with one of his shards, helping to subdue a little bit of Amon's madness, as well as his desperation to end. In that way it would be a bad end for the WoL, but perhaps not the worst end, story-wise. I could still see Ascian Aeryn working to avert the Final Days: reaching out to Meteion with both her own and Hermes's memories, pushing through the nest to find the Endsinger, even summoning Hades and Hythlodaeus… and possibly even some of the other Ascians? Defeating the Endsinger alongside both Ancients and Ascians would be pretty poetic, all things considered, and so delightfully circular thinking back on ARR. I'm not sure much about the fight itself would change, with Ascian Aeryn finding herself in the odd circumstance of being gifted strength beyond even her means by the prayers of the Scions who don't want to see their friend defeated, perhaps hoping they can somehow bring her back...

(Do I need another AU? No. But I'm a teensy bit obsessed with the notion of EW driving Aeryn to willingly play host to an Ascian... annnnnnd I'll probably end up writing some of this. Oops, I guess? Here we are.)

Bad endings? Bad endings anyone?

What if they got consumed by the light? What if they became a primal? Any and all bad endings!

I think mine most likely would've become a lightwarden because she didn't get to Emet-Selch fast enough. "Obsession" would be its name, due to the fact it would be obsessed with the idea of saving others and changing the world, probably leading to either the Scions killing her or to her consuming the First in Light.

.

[efrmellifer]

FFxivWrite ‘20, Sixteen

Prompt: Lucubration, during Stormblood, 900 words

They might as well have been adrift in the Ruby Sea, for how dry and comfortable Etien felt. She didn’t even hate water; she quite liked it, actually. She’d enjoyed wading in streams as a youth, taken a few moments to enjoy a dip in the waters of Costa del Sol when she got the chance, and even might have liked to try swimming in this sea, if it were deemed safe (though considering the sharks she had already had to confront… maybe not).

But lying damp in the sand, a few shells and rocks around her, had sleep becoming a far-off prize she couldn’t claim. So she sat up, feeling the sand start practically pouring off her clothing where it hadn’t already gotten in.

Gods, she had never thought she was going to miss snow.

Standing, she dusted herself off, then brushed and shook the wet sand from her hands. The risk of frostbite was absent, sure, but she was… gritty. She would rather pull pine needles from her hair than attempt to free the still fairly-soft strands of every little grain.

Well, Etien wasn’t going to get any sleep, so she might as well make the most of this time.

She grabbed some supplies to make sure she’d have sufficient light and some writing materials. But she wasn’t going to write letters this time. Usually, she would have. But what had she to say now that was new?

She was still alive, still sad and easily upset by everything that was happening around her. Still feeling guilty about what she had said after the fight at Rhalgr’s Reach, that it wasn’t her fight.

She felt bad for saying it, when so much loss or the fear of it had just struck everyone—not just the Resistance, but in Y’shtola’s injuries too.

She was just tired. Newly engaged and recently happy, but now she was tired. She didn’t doubt that everyone depending on her like this cared about her. That wasn’t the problem. It was just that sometimes, she felt…used?

Etien knew it was selfish. The gifts thrust upon her had to be used in service, or what good were they?

She sighed, shaking her head and turning to the parchment. She wasn’t a mapmaker, astronomy expert, or chronicler by any means, but she had been trying to take as many notes as she could.

She liked stargazing, so she started with that, turning her face to the sky and trying to take down the positions of the stars in relation to each other. Her mother—or really, her mother’s father, whom she’d never met—would have been far better at this, having used the stars to navigate. If it could be used for that, she would be happy, but she had no such faith that her clustered dots of ink would be suitable for that.

When she got bored of that, she drew crude shapes on another parchment, mostly labeling locations, landmarks, and warnings.

“Big bunch of crabs,” she wrote by one circle. “Massive drop-off here,” she scrawled over a patch of the ocean. Good enough.

She pulled up the third and final piece of parchment, committing the last day or so to its surface.

“We repair boats, we argue with Tansui, we sleep in the sand, and I slap Alphinaud awake, thinking I’m   comfortably in bed instead of hunkered down against the elements. It was almost funny. Half in a dream, I turned, and I thought to pull myself closer… never mind the details of what I thought. The point is that as I rolled, I stuck out my arm and flopped it immediately onto the poor boy’s face, giving him a wake-up reserved for the worse days. He sputtered as he rose, then grumbled as he lay down again, but I suppose that’s to be expected.”

Suddenly, a wave of exhaustion came over Etien. She rested her forehead on her hand, cradled between her thumb and pointer finger. There was a word for what she was doing, in some ancient tongue. Aymeric knew it, he’d used at one point when she’d been waiting for him.

Despite how tired she was, she struggled for the word. It began with an l. Lugubrious? No. Lucubration. While she thought it was a silly word, she guessed it was shorter than “burning the midnight oil” or “burning the candle at both ends.”

Funny, how many phrases about overworking oneself involved burning.

And oh, she burned. She was trying to hide it, now that the crying jags had tapered off to only strong waves of the need bringing her to tears, but she had never been good at hiding her feelings.

Moreover, to say it as she burned implied a lot of lust in it. There was some, no point in lying. But her chief desire for him laid more in how perfectly her arms encircled him, how neatly they fit under a blanket together, seated side by side. Against the wind, they stood, and together they were warm.

But that burning was a hearth fire. This was different. This was a burning that was going to leave nothing but a pool of wax gone cold by morning.

She would be cold, too, with the wind coming off the sea. But at least it got the candle she’d burned to gutter and fade as she finally fell asleep amongst her notes.

[thevikingwoman]

Fic Authors Self Rec

When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Spread the love ❤️

I was tagged by @myreia and @a-shakespearean-in-paris, thank you both! It's hard to pick favorites? (I cheated)

Tagging forward, and to anyone else who wants to!

@galadrieljones @redinkofshame @ubejamjar @roguelioness @galadae

@bearlytolerant @kittlesandbugs @ellstersmash @janzoo @coldshrugs

@gangrelslut @superfluouskeys @buttsonthebeach

- 1. The Lovers

FFXIV | Shadowbringers | Wol x Tansui | Explicit | 4310 words

After defeating the Rak'tika Lightwarden, Warrior of Light (& Darkness) finds time to teleport back to the source, yearning to see her lover again. Tansui is more than happy to see her again, and their need for each other is undeniable. However, after they come together, something weighs on Tansui's mind

This is one of my most recent fics, and I really love exploring both Meryta's and Tansui's POV in this one. I struggled getting it to where I wanted, but I'm so happy with where it ended up and some of the nuances I was able to get in here.

- 1.5 Passing Through

FFXIV | Stormblood patches | Wol x Tansui | Explicit | 4518 words

Warrior of Light Meryta Khatin, while helping Genbu with the Four Lords passes through Onokoro. She can't help checking in on a friend - and Meryta and Tansui can't deny the attraction between them.

Alright, I'm cheating and adding one more Meryta and Tansui fic. This one was the one that settled the idea I had for them in my mind, that made me think of them as ship - even if they're not there yet. I had such fun writing it, and I think it shows.

- 2. Choices

FFXIV | Shadowbringers | Wol | Gen | 736 words

After the reveal and failure of G'raha's plan, Meryta has a moment - angry, hurt, confused and falling apart

I love this little MSQ coda, it was so great to express the feeling about the whole plot, and how it felt to Meryta. I think I expressed her feelings and interiority so well, and put some great images in here.

- 3. Comfort

Dragon Age | Vampire AU | Solavellan | Explicit | 7107 words

"Brooding alone?” someone asks. A woman, an elf, leans on the bar next to him. Her red hair is up in a ponytail, displaying the tawny skin on her muscular back. She is wearing a shimmering white dress, only a scrap of fabric covering her back. “I am just here to enjoy a drink in peace,” he replies. She laughs, eyes sparkling and lighting up her face. Her lips are painted bold red, and he notices her vallaslin, a dull olive covering the right side of her face. Dalish, then. Not many clans do that anymore. “No one comes here to drink in peace,” she says. “Iwyn Lavellan.” She holds out her hand, and he has to take it, bringing it to his lips in a kiss. Later, he blames the alcohol, or her sparkling the eyes, or the way the dress barely covers her ass. “Solas. Pleased to meet you.”

Probably my favorite AU. I love the little plot, I love the world, I love the dynamic between them. I love writing Iwyn as the immortal. I love the images and descriptions I wrote - and he smut is pretty good too!

- 4. Home

Uprooted (Naomi Novik) | post-book | Agnieszka/ Sarkan | Teen | 2175 words

He misses her, just not more than he fears belonging.

This is probably the favorite fic I have ever written. I think I hit the mood of the book so well, and managed to make a believable continuation. I just think this one flows so well and I'm very proud of it.

- 5. Temerity

Dragon Age | post Inquistion | Solavellan | Explicit | 10728 words

Iwyn Lavellan is doing all that she can to stay one step ahead of Solas, opposing him after he reveals his plans. When she runs into her former lover in an abandoned ruin, they start a tenuous and dangerous dance. They can't help but being drawn to each other, no matter how harsh the flames of love or hate will burn them.

I love this one for so many reasons. Though not Iwyn and Solas canon (in my head) reunion, I love the darkness of this, and the way they're messed up. I'm so proud of myself for going there and writing this and putting it out in the world. I love some of the metaphors, I love the intensity. And I love the open ending I left; do they spiral or do they make it through?

[thevikingwoman]

Meryta struggles with her fears, feelings, and putting words on paper.

Fandom: FFXIV | Words: 1553 | Read on Ao3

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

Meryta Khatin x Tansui | after The Key to The Castle | romance Rating: Teen. Letter writing, longing, fear of death, fear of change, Alisaie friendship, dealing or not dealing with feelings

Letters and Longing, part 1

Meryta’s pen hovers over the parchment, frustration marring her face. The pen is frozen as she thinks, ink dripping on the page. She groans and puts the pen back in the inkwell, carefully mopping up the extra ink on the page. At least it didn’t ruin what she’d already written. The letter is a mess anyway, but she can’t fathom rewriting it, little as it is. It’s hard enough already. Not only are the words hard to come by, but the act of writing itself – the echo might grant her ability to speak and understand any language, but it doesn’t confer any scholarly skills, including letter writing.

After they returned from Dohn Mheg with the shell crown, a silent thanks to Soroban and the Kojin, she’d decided it was time to write a letter. Urianger had been pleased enough to supply the pen and parchment when she asked, his golden eyes kind. She is glad to see them. At any other time, her attention would have been drawn by how handsome he is, free of whatever caused him to hide before. But all she can think of is warm brown eyes and a dark beard, her thoughts returning to the Ruby Seas and to Tansui.

She wants to tell him – something.

They’ve been rushing, ever since they ran from Ran’jit in Lakeland. She’s not afraid of him, not the way she’s afraid of the Lightwarden, but to deal with Ran’jit she has to fight another Lightwarden.

She’d have to fight it anyway, or so the Exarch says. She’s afraid, and she’s not used to it. Not that she hasn’t been afraid before, but it’s been the good kind of fear. The fear that keeps on your toes, harnessed into a razor edge for the coming battle. Fear that makes you throw yourself into combat, teeth bared. No, now she’s filled with dread. She doesn’t want to fight the Lightwarden. She doesn’t want to see the sin eaters, the ones arisen from people lost. She doesn’t want to absorb the aether from the Warden, the Light overwhelming and itching beneath her skin.

The castle looms above the lake, glittering and beautiful and unreal. 

Soon enough, they’ll rush away to find the last two artifacts, and with the post moogle improbably spinning in humming circles in Lydha Lran. It probably gets on splendidly with the faeries. She decided to write and send a letter while she still could.

She worries – she worries she’ll not survive, or change – or unable to stop or go to the Source. And when she left Tansui last, she... Well, she doesn’t want him to think she forgot about him, or that she doesn’t want to come back. Or she wants to thank him. Or tell him…

She groans again.

If you do not see me again, it is not for lack of trying.

That doesn’t quite encompass all she wants to say, and it’s not quite the right way to say it. So far, all she’s said is that she is alive and well, for now, and they’re trying to end another Lightwarden. She should perhaps tell that she’s with her friends, that they are hale and well – but it’s too complicated, too long winded, and besides he’s met neither Urianger nor Thancred. Yet it’s strange not to mention them.

I’m with more of the scions, my friends. I do wish to visit again, but if I don’t --

She tries again, mulling over the sentences in her mind. How does one spell scion anyway? If the Lightwarden doesn’t defeat her and the Light doesn’t – change her – will Ran’jit catch up with them? Will the faeries trap them here forever, chasing their artifacts? She wants to explain and to write a proper letter – but it’s a jumbled mess along with her thoughts.

“Hello, Meryta.” Alisaie, pulling out a stool and sitting across from her. “I thought you had already left.”

“I wanted to write this letter, but – words are eluding me.”

“A letter? For whom?”

“It’s not important.”

“It’s important enough that you’ve not yet left.”

Alisaie leans over, attempting to read it upside down. Meryta wants to cover it up, but it’s messy enough and she’s unsure if the ink is dry and she won’t ruin it more. She’s certain Alisaie has beautiful handwriting, like her brother.

“Tansui? The pirate?”

The embarrassment over her handwriting is not the only reason she wants to hide it.

“He’s a friend.” She feels like she should add something, but afraid it will come out defensively.

“Sure,” Alisaie says, interrupting her thoughts. “A friend happy to extort money from us, I guess.” She narrows her eyes. “But mayhap that’s not quite what you think of.”

She fights the instinct to hide, she can’t truly explain what he is, not fully. It’s not the times they’ve fucked, but the way he held her, last time she was there. How that makes her want to go to him again. How, despite her happiness to see her friends again, and her sympathy for the plight of the people here, all she wants is to rest in his arms again.

“I’ve visited and I –“ she stops, and freezes. Another thing she doesn’t want is to worry Alisaie, how her need to write is bound up with her fear that she’ll not be successful in the next fight. That whatever they do will not work, that the Light may consume her. She thinks of the other things she wants to tell him too, words of both affection and practicality stuck in her head.

“Feo Ul said he’d get the letters to the Source somehow,” she explains, backing up. “I want to tell him – at least to be aware of Black Rose and of the things Urianger saw in his vision. Be I’m not used to writing letters, and –“

Alisaie’s eyes soften, any judgement leaving them. “Mayhap I can help?”

She has never found it difficult to talk to Alisaie, and she shouldn’t find it so now. She’s not embarrassed, she’s perhaps just reluctant to both name her fears to those who depend on her, and to admit she ran from them. Or that – it would be easier to share if she understood her thoughts herself. She longs for the simplicity in visiting Tansu and the Confederacy, and that peace feels private.

“I would be glad.”

With her friend’s help she manages to compose something sensible, and not too long. Simply asking him, and the Confederacy, to be careful with any run-ins with Garleans and their cargo. She also tells a little of what has come to pass for her here on the First. She thinks he might find the faeries amusing, as long as he’s not on the receiving end of their shenanigans. A kinship of making people pay for their trespasses, perhaps.

“I miss him,” she blurs out at the end, wanting to add that too, needing to voice it despite her confusion. Her mind circles back to the notion that should she die or be unable to travel, would he know? That he should know he’s not forgotten, but that he means… something to her.

“You should tell,” Alisaie says. “I am not sure I’d name the Confederacy a steadfast ally, but – regrets can come too soon.” There’s something painful in the other woman’s eyes, the raw hurt unhidden.

“I’m sorry,” Meryta says. “If we’d been faster, if we’d – “

“She did what she had to do. It’s no need – it’s over now.” Alisaie shakes her head. “Please. I just – see to your letter. Mayhap I shall take my leave and trust you can write the rest without out my help. I surmise you’d rather it be so. And I think I’ve left my dear brother alone with the fairies a tad longer than he finds amusing.”

“Thank you, Alisaie.”

“Of course, my friend. Good luck with the artifacts. We will keep the Eulmorians busy.”

Meryta watches Alisaie leave, confident steps, her rapier ever ready. Meryta has no doubt about hers, and Alphinaud��s, capabilities. They will keep their pursuers at bay.

She does manage the rest of the letter, trying to shape her feelings into words, her mind occupied with the memory of brown eyes and calloused hands, and marks sucked into her flesh.

Tansui, I do not know if I will win this fight. I do not know if it will change me. I miss you. I wish to see you again. I hope to see you again if can. If I cannot know that I tried.

I would like to eat breakfast with you again. I long for it.

Satisfied, she seals the letter. At least he will know she did not abandon him, should her end come. The risk is always there, but somehow here, it feels closer than ever. Meryta shakes her head, and looks at the flowers in the blinding light. Her thoughts spin in circles.

Feo Ul and the post moogle is more than happy to accept her letter, exorbitant fee agreed on. One less thing to regret.

She doesn’t want to die. The castle on its high peak, pretty and bright. Most of all, she doesn’t want to absorb the Light of a second Lightwarden, a third, a fourth – how many are there?

She has no choice but to set out.

[thevikingwoman]

15 Lines of Dialogue Rules: Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well!

Thank you for the tag @coldshrugs and @impossible-rat-babies!

tagging: @myreia @roguelioness @janzoo @consulaaris @scionshtola

@ubejamjar @gatheredfates @bearlytolerant @gefiltefished and everyone else who wants to!

(sorry for the many paragraphs attempting to working around tumblr's new limit)

These are all Meryta / ffxiv, from published fics and WIPs, you also get a peak at my awful wip naming (contrasted with my struggles with fic naming 😂). This was more picking lines I liked and it's good to see your OCs voice? Actually helpful!

“I should have foreseen the danger. The beastmen, the Primal... those are not simple problems.” She can hardly forget it, leaping through the sky. She does not want to think of it, but if the time comes, she will deal with it. She folds her hand in his and reaches to kiss him. “I doubt your father expected you to deal with a Primal, Emmanellain.” - Reprieve

 Here we go again, she thinks, do you really want to do this again? “You should invite him to dinner,” she says out loud instead. - Distance

“Sorry, that was unjust of me. I’m just very worried about my friend. I spend a long time worried about where she was and if she even was alive and now – now I worry more.” - Wrong

“Emmanellain. You're handsome enough on your own. Stop it.” - The Perils of Ishgard Publishing

“You’re injured,” she murmurs. - Under Familiar Stars

“I wouldn’t say no to a game,” she says, tilting her head towards the cardplayers, and winks. “Here I thought I could offer your something better, in ways of entertainment.” “And what may that be, Tansui?” - Passing Through

“I wish I could stay,” she says, when she’s done with the second portion, “but – and I should help with cleanup,” she continues as she puts her dish in the sink, and he waves her off. - Solace and Breakfast

“I wanted to write this letter, but – words are eluding me.” “A letter? For whom?” [Alisaie asks] “It’s not important.” - Letters and Longing

“Yes. No. I am not.” - wip (relationship talk)

“I want – Tansui.” He bucks his hips into her hand and sucks [er nipple]. His hand on her hip, holding her in a bruising grip. She sinks her nails into his shoulders. “I can’t wait. I need you.” - wip (relationship talk)

“Come,” she says and grabs both Yugiri’s and Lyse’s arms. “We should have time enough to taste some food, and we can ask the trader all the same. If he doesn’t know him, we can spilt up after.” - wip (the steppe)

“I know how babies are made, if that is what you ask, Alphinaud.” - wip (after roadtrip)

“I am. What are you going to do about it?” - wip (another Tansui tryst)

“It was – “ meant for me, but she can’t voice it. Not now, and perhaps never. “—heroic,” she settles on. “He saved us all.” - wip (emmy grief)

“Maybe I’m not telling.” Tansui chuckles. “Well, if you’re so stuck on pirates, perhaps a handsome pirate has rescued a beautiful princess.” “And what will the pirate ask for in return for such a dashing rescue?” - wip (tansui roleplay) good bye we're never talking about this wip again

[thevikingwoman]

tagged by @bearlytolerant and @redinkofshame for this cute kiss picrew!

Solas and Iwyn - Dragon Age

Tansui and Meryta, as best I can - struggle with horns and colors (no green hair! no beard that works!) - ffxiv

Aeran and Illia - Wayfarer

Veyer and Illia [Veyer is they/them] - Wayfarer

tagging @coldshrugs @galadrieljones @a-shakespearean-in-paris @roguelioness @sunshinemage

@nicnevans @galadae @tadpole-apocalypse @redwayfarers and everyone else who wants to!

[thevikingwoman]

👄👁️👂

mery/tansui saladspinning thoughts pls?

OKAY HI thank you Meg

Currently I'm working on some writing pieces that will lead them to actually agree on a defined relationship (instead of Is This A Fling Or More), so I have some thoughts on how, esp Tansui feels about it, but also how things may go now & in the future.

One of the things i keep coming back to is that Tansui's life has been - pretty stable? He (wiki info 😔) left his home as a child and joined the confederacy (and I do have - a whole additional head canon here but it's mostly just spinning him) and he's been with them ever since. I count 25-30 years?

Pre-invasion, occupied, freed Doma - it's technically all the same to him and the Confederacy. they tax the boats, they live their life. Hingashi's non-interventionalism did stabilize the region I think, regardless of what we (the scions) think of it.

The idea of helping Doma is - more or less Rasho's, in the msq Tansui gives him the ability to pull back too

So regardless of romantic entanglements (which i'm getting to, in a min!) with the whole helping the scions, the Confederacy's life is somewhat changed - though it was probably necessary. But they keep helping Hien in the SB patches, including Hien's baby Eastern Alliance.

add to this that Tansui's - kinda girlfriend is, well, the warrior of light? She has places to be, things to do (disregarding if she wants to do them or not). he has to relate to Everything Is Now Different.

there's a line somewhere, where the Confederates are say - once you join you have to be loyal, even if you have to work with former enemies and lovers etc. So I think, well, he's used to maybe having relations with other Confederates and not someone so far outside his world? He can't (and won't) leave, and he's unprepared to be longing for someone. I also think he's protective (for background reasons too) and he can't protect Meryta. So he has to come to terms with this.

and she has to figure out her desire to turn to him, and how she feels about having to leave- but frankly i think she's better equipped to deal that he is. She's younger (by quite a bit) and in constant change and motion anyway.

anyway this was all a very very long rambling on right now my thoughts on Tansui is that he's struggling with 'how do I love this person' and it would be - easier if he didn't? But he does love her, and it's terrible and scary and very different.