#aza's first mom is very uh

[kivaember]

Prompt #19: Gelid

(CW: Implied child neglect) 

Mom hadn’t left them any food.

Aza eyed the empty pantry with no small amount of worry, peering into the empty coldboxes and squinting at the bare shelves like food would miraculously appear if he wished it hard enough. Alas, the pantry remained empty, and he sat and contemplated this problem with an uneasy squirming in his belly.

Normally, this would be fine. It wasn’t the first time Mom disappeared and left them to fend for themselves a few days – Aza knew how to snag rabbits and forage berries and roots and stuff, enough to feed him and Ala for a week at most; but he never had to do it in winter before and…

Aza chewed his bottom lip anxiously, shoving himself to his feet and leaving the empty pantry behind. The kitchen looked equally bereft, and when he hopefully prodded at a bowl of berries he found them to be soft and overripe.

Eh, they’d do.

He snagged the bowl, padding into the living room where he left Ala in charge of the fireplace. His little sister was too young to worry about cooking or hunting, but she was old enough to be left alone with a log burner for a while. He did when he was seven.

“Here you go, Ala,” he said with forced cheeriness, “Breakfast!”

Ala, who was bundled up in her blanket, practically sitting in the hearth with how close she was to the crackling fire, looked up hopefully… only to wilt when Aza presented her the bowl of overripe berries, “Berries?”

“They’re good for you,” he said firmly, hoping that these ones wouldn’t give Ala the shits like the green ones did, “They’re only a little soft anyways.”

Ala grumbled, but she took the bowl, her hunger clearly winning out. Aza sat next to her on the floor, soaking up the warmth from the fire. The pantry had been freezing.

The lone window in the room was stained completely white, and occasionally a bitingly sharp draft would rattle through, making the fire flicker and Aza shiver right down to his toes. If this snowstorm continued, he’d have to dig their way out through the roof again��� and it didn’t bode well for food later today either. Aza chewed on his thumbnail, gnawing on the soft skin around the nail to try and dampen his hunger.

He wished Mom left them some cold meat at least…

But no, Mom needed it more. Food was so scarce on their little island nowadays, she needed the energy to travel to the other parts of the archipelago to bring back more food. She always delivered on that front – maybe this time she’d come back with a whole deer and they could have meat that wasn’t fish for once!

His stomach audibly gurgled at the thought of it.

“Are you hungry?” Ala asked him through a mouthful of berries, her lips and fingers stained a deep purple. She held up the bowl, “Want some? They’re actually okay!”

“It’s fine. I’ll go fishing in a bit,” Aza said quickly. Out of the both of them, Ala needed the food more.

“But… the water’ll be all frozen,” Ala said, blinking up at him with those large, round eyes of hers, “And it’s snowing lots outside!”

“Mm, well… I’ll be okay.”

Ala stared at him for a bit, pressing her berry-stained lips together and giving him a very suspicious squint, “Hmmm…”

“What?” Aza grumbled, bristling a little at the clear scepticism on Ala’s face, “I’m the big brother here! I’m always okay!”

“Mom was mad last time,” Ala said simply, turning away and sticking her nose in the air slightly, “’Cuz you gave all the food to me and, um, starved.”

“I didn’t ‘starve’, it was three days of fasting,” Aza muttered. That hadn’t been fun, though. He felt all woozy and sick and hungry – he’d sooner go digging in the garden for worms and eat those, then go through that again.

Oh. Idea!

“Speaking of, I better go get something, before I ‘starve’,” he stuck his tongue out at Ala, smiling when she did it back with a dark purple tongue, “Don’t burn the house down, tiny.”

“I’m not tiny!” Ala squawked, but Aza was already on his feet and moving to the door.

He yanked on his boots, pulled on his hunting coat with a scarf thrown on top, and grabbed the gardening trowel on his way out. The snow was up to his waist when he wrenched the door open, hissing when snow piled inside the hallway, but he managed to close the front door behind him and squint against the white, blustery wind cutting against his face.

“S-S-S-Soooo c-c-c-cooold…” he whined, clutching the gardening trowel tight between his small, gloved hands as he waded through the snow, over to where their vegetable patch was.

‘Was’ being the keyword. They tended to it between spring and autumn, but this deep in winter? It was just a patch of frozen soil half the time, as dense as iron and all but barren. But worms lived in vegetable soil, right? And they didn’t all die in winter, because then there’d be none in spring, so, that meant…

Aza squatted down in the vegetable patch, spending a good ten minute digging himself a hole to actually see the dark, hard soil. Then it took him a further ten minutes to penetrate the frozen topsoil, his arms burning with exertion and his fingers aching from the cold starting to seep through his gloves. It really was cold, that even the work out of digging wasn’t warming him up any.

“Arrgh…” he groaned when another blustery, cold gust swept over him, hunching lower in his squat as his teeth chattered together so hard it hurt. His gloves were covered in soil, and there were clumps of black dirt over his boots and- he dug more and more, aimlessly, just hoping until-

“Hah!” he tossed the trowel aside and started digging into the softened soil with gutso, pulling out one, two, three, four… five worms! Triumphant, he leapt to his feet and raced back to the house, abandoning the trowel in his haste to get back inside to warmth. He wrestled with the front door, almost slipped on the half-melted slush that he let in earlier, and stomped his way to the kitchen, still clutching his fitful of squirming worms like they were the most precious thing in the universe at that moment.

“Ala! Come get some meat!” he yelled, dumping the dirty, pink squirmy worms on the kitchen counter before hunting for a bowl, “I got worms!”

“Worms are gross!” Ala yelled back from the living room.

“Fine, I’ll have them aaaaall to myself!” he returned, and rolled his eyes when Ala just let out a loud ‘eeeewwww’! He didn’t get her aversion to eating creepy crawlies sometimes. They were food, just… crunchy or squishy, depending.

Still, they weren’t the same as spitroasted venison or wild boar. Better than starving, though.

Grasping one squirming worm and dashing it under the water from their water-crystal rigged tap, Aza really did hope Mom came back soon, with proper food. He was so sick of fish, so sick of roots or roasting acorns when things got desperate enough… just… really sick of never having enough.

He was beginning to forget how not being hungry felt.

[wuthering-valleys]

I have a confession to make: I've never learned how to add those read mores. Spoilers about Turtles All The Way Down are below:

🐢

🐢

🐢

🐢

🐢

Okay. This is, let me clarify, an excellent book. Poetic, bittersweet, exactly what you expect from John Green, etc., etc.

That said,

This is the first time I've read a book with a character that thought like I do. I mean, it's like John Green stalked me for a year before writing it. It's so deeply unsettling to see someone think exactly like you do and laid bare for the world (less C. Diff and more brain parasites tho) but I could deal with that honestly!! It's not that I am so horrified by myself I can't handle that.

What's absolutely terrifying is seeing Aza's mind get in her own way. Like, she breaks up with a boy because all she can think about is his microbes, she won't go away to school because she doesn't think she can handle it, she DRINKS HAND SANITIZER IN THE HOSPITAL DEAR HECK, and it's so hard seeing how everyone else is reacting to her. Her best friend has been writing smack about her for YEARS to kind of a lot of people, publicly, her mom is terrified and stifling, and basically no one else can bear to be around her

Like, I'm not Aza, and I've never actually swallowed hand sanitizer (though I've considered it) but if I let myself slip like 2%-5% I really would be exactly like that man. The book ends with her being in and out of the hospital her entire life for this and I can't live that life!! I cannot!! I cannot live the life where I never let myself have relationships, platonic or otherwise, and never let myself grow past what I already know, and live locked up inside myself.

And I won't. I'm, uh, I'm really stubborn. Disturbingly stubborn. If I can make myself clean up dog poop with what-may-have-been-a-worm-but-I-wasn't-getting-close-enough-to-check in it, I can do basically anything, but I've seen how very fragile my mental health can be and seeing someone so very like myself go down the path she did is terrifying. Chilling.

This is the first time in years I've been seriously unsettled by a book and I've read some disturbing stuff. (I see the world like a Steven King novel sometimes and it's nice to have that taken seriously) I mean, I'm okay, it's an excellent book, my problem with it to be clear is that it is TOO ACCURATE a picture of OCD

Basically, I'm the Facebook I'm in this picture and I don't like it meme. I would add it if I didn't think it would be auto flagged and actually had it saved to my phone whoops

This is more modern than I usually get on this blog but Turtles All The Way Down is a great book that I passionately hate

[kivaember]

Prompt #21: Repast

“You’re scrawnier than I thought.”

“Elezen are naturally lean,” Aymeric replied amicably, trying not to be put off by the intense, near-predatory stare boring into him, “We do not pile on muscle easily like you Xaela.”

“Hmm,” said his companion.

His companion being, specifically, Aza’s mother. She was tall for a Xaela woman, built like a destrier Chocobo with a brusque temperament to match, and possessing long, grey-streaked hair scraped back into a loose ponytail. She looked young for her supposed sixty years, even with the harsh lines pulling at the corners of her mouth and crinkling the corners of her eyes, and her body still looked strong and sturdy beneath her sturdy hunting tunics.

Strong enough to snap him over her knee like a twig, if Aza’s whispered warnings before they stepped into the yurt were anything to go by. He wasn’t keen to test if that had been an exaggeration or not – not only out of fear of discovering that prodigious strength was true, but because getting into a physical fight with his partner’s mother probably wasn’t the correct way to go about this.

“Aym’s pretty built beneath that armour,” Aza piped up at his side, “He’s Lord Commander of Ishgard’s military force, so he has to be strong for it.”

Aza’s mother, Atani, hummed again, her gaze taking on a shrewd edge to it, “Lord Commander…” she repeated, her voice thick with the accent of the Steppe. She knew Eorzean Common surprisingly well, despite Aza confessing it wasn’t her second or even third language, “Is that like a khagan?”

Aymeric glanced at Aza questioningly.

“Uh, yeah. Kinda,” Aza scratched his cheek in a clearly nervous gesture, “He’s the strongest warrior, leads the Ishgardian warriors into battle. Smart too, and, umm...”

Truthfully, Aymeric would place Estinien and several others above himself in terms of martial strength and intelligence, but he said nothing as Atani, once more, hummed and let the matter drop entirely – just in time for their last companion, Aza’s father, Aruci, to sweep next to their table and set down a large, steaming pot in the middle: the family hotpot Aza promised him when inviting him to the meal.  

“Atani, stop intimidating the poor boy,” Aruci chided gently, easing himself down on the floor with creaking knees, “He’s here as our guest.”

“If he finds this intimidating, then he’s too soft, isn’t he?” Atani said idly, then shot Aymeric’s way almost lazily, “Are you intimidated?”

“Not particularly,” Aymeric said truthfully. Compared to Nidhogg, or even Hraesvelgr, Atani’s intimidation was tolerable and like water off a mudpuppy’s back. There was only so much your glares could do when lacking the terrifying jaws of a furious, hungry dragon to go with it, “Mildly threatened, perhaps, but not intimidated.”

“Hah!” Atani leaned back, slapping a hand on her thigh, “Oh, I like this one,” she said to Aza, pointing rudely at Aymeric, “He’s bold.”

“Don’t I know it,” Aza grumbled, but he was looking pleased and incredibly relieved. No doubt he was happy this whole meeting was going so well – and that no one had been stabbed yet, an alarming possibility that was allegedly common with Xaela tribes in these situations according to Aza. It was why his partner had been so insistent he wore light armour for the meal, even if the noble upbringing in Aymeric squirmed at the perceived insult of it.

“You know, Aza speaks very warmly of you,” Aruci said in a surprisingly gentle, placid tone as he began spooning out the hotpot into everyone’s respective bowls. His hands were rough, calloused and gnarled, but still steady and strong. Aza mentioned he was a renowned crafter, and it showed, “Every time he comes home, he’s always eager to share affectionate tales about you.”

“And Bluebird the risqué ones,” Atani added teasingly, her mouth curving into a very Bluebird-esque smile when Aza turned an adorable shade of red, “Oh, come now, my little Coeurl, don’t be shy! It’s good to have a partner that satisfies you both emotionally and-”

“Okay!” Aza said a little too loudly, waving his hands frantically, “Can we please not talk about my sex life at the dinner table?”  

“I guess it is a poor subject to start off with,” Atani admitted grudgingly, her focus sliding back to Aym with her smile shifting back into too-predatory, “Instead, why not tell us how you two came together? Aza has been so secretive about it…”

At that, Aymeric and Aza shared a brief look. Their ‘coming together’ had been due to copious amounts of alcohol, Aza puking on his boots after publicly confessing his love on top of a table at a dinner party, followed by a very awkward conversation during the unpleasant throes of being hungover. There had been nothing romantic about it – it had been raw, emotionally exhausting, yet… good, in an odd way.

Of course, Aza avoided him for three weeks afterwards before Aymeric could pin him down and get a straight answer out of him regarding what they were but, well, that hungover, emotional talk had been the real start to their… relationship. Sort of.  

There was no pretty or gentle way to explain this, though. It had been a mess from start to finish.

“Um, well…” Aza cleared his throat, his left ear flicking nervously, “Bluebird didn’t tell you?”

“Your sister has a big mouth on many things,” Atani said bluntly, “But even she can be discreet about others. She hasn’t told us.”

“Oh,” Aza looked as surprised as Aymeric felt, “Well, uhhh, so… we got together after a… party…”

Aymeric had to hide a helpless smile behind his hand. Aza was such a terrible liar, and his partner stuttered and awkwardly talked around the unsavoury parts of the story under his mother’s far too knowing gaze.

“…and then we decided to give it a shot,” Aza finished his highly abridged and redacted tale, “And here we are, two years later.”

“Two years later,” Atani echoed, sharing a look with her husband, “Well, you really do seem happy.”

“I am,” Aza said firmly, sitting up straighter and looking his mother straight in the eyes, “I’m very happy with Aym. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Well. Well. Aymeric was suddenly very glad he had a bowl of hotpot to distract himself with at that bold declaration. His heart felt like it was doing something very squishy and potentially medically fatal, unable to stop the no doubt stupid, lovesick smile curling his mouth. There was something so good to hear that, if only because Aza had been so sad and lonely at the beginning, almost lost and hesitant to get attached and love. To hear him boldly declare his happiness now was…

“I can see that…” Atani murmured very softly, and something complicated flickered across her expression.

Aruci settled a hand over Atani’s, giving it a squeeze, “We’re happy for you, Aza. You’ve come a long way since we first took you in. We’re both proud of you.”

Atani gave herself a bit of a shake, motherly warmth filling her expression and chasing away the shadows that had lurked there, “So very proud. I always knew you had the better taste in men than your sister-”

“Mom,” Aza protested, his face was bright red at this point and his eyes suspiciously teary.

“-I mean, he’s leagues better than that Felyx,” Atani finished with a roll of her eyes, “Do you know Felyx, Aymeric?”

Aymeric knew Felyx very well. Bluebird had delighted in telling him that Aza’s fellow adventurer used to be a ‘fuck buddy’ when his relationship with his partner had been new and tentative. Looking back, he suspected Bluebird had been testing him, gauging his jealousy – Aymeric didn’t care. Aza wasn’t the disloyal sort, and whatever was between him and Felyx was no longer sexual. He had simply filed that fact away as an interesting piece of trivia and never thought about it in depth again.  

“We’ve met,” he said simply, “He gets around, from what I hear.”

“He’s not that bad,” Aza grumbled, “Just because he’s open about being poly-”

“Your sister wanted to marry him,” Atani said flatly, and Aza choked on the rest of his words.

“W-W-W-Wh-” Aza coughed and drew in a deep breath… if only to shriek; “What!?”

“Huh,” Aymeric said, trying to see it and failing. Bluebird, wanting to marry someone? It boggled the mind.

“Hah! I see Bluebird didn’t tell you that story!” Atani chortled, slapping her thigh, “Aruci, love, tell Aza about that disaster.”

“Oh, come now, let’s not embarrass her. She’s not even here to defend herself-”

“You have to tell me!” Aza breathed, looking torn between morbid fascination and utter delight, “Please, Dad!”

Aruci sighed, and groaned when Atani playfully ribbed him, but he gave in with a, “Well, three years back…”

“Three years!? That recent!?”

“Let him finish,” Atani scolded.

Aymeric leaned back slightly, relieved that focus had shifted from him to this humiliating tale of Bluebird’s ill-advised marriage proposal. The hotpot was good, he found, his gaze drawn to Aza as his partner drank in the embarrassing story about his sister, admiring how openly happy and relaxed and carefree he was. He looked younger, happier, basking in the presence of his family, adopted or not…

He felt an odd twinge, then – not quite longing but… a realisation that he was missing something he never truly had. Lord Borel had been a good guardian, but he had never been a father. Kind and affectionate, yes, but his love was not unconditional, and there was always an edge of political posturing when it came to Aymeric. He had long made peace with the fact that he had been a chess piece on the board that was Ishgardian politics, and that he never really knew what a proper family was.

But this… hmm. It probably felt a little like this.

Yes, a little.

Content with that, Aymeric settled in, finding contentment in being accepted into the small circle that was Aza’s family, if only for today.

[kivaember]

Maybe 'Home Again' for that prompt thinh

 “Moooooooom~!”

“Bluebird!” Atanileapt up from where she’d been in the process of skinning a Baras, her handsbloodied and carving knife in hand - and beamed when she saw her daughterrunning through the ambling livestock surrounding her yurt. She was bigger thanthe last time she saw her, more muscular and confident.

Bluebird hopped toa half in front of her, her pale cheeks flushed from her no doubt mad dashthrough the Iriq encampment, “Hey, Mom! You’re rocking some grey hairsthere.”

“Nice to see you haven’t lost your cheek,” Atani huffed, but she wasgrinning as she looked her daughter up and down. Bluebird had filled out nicelyin the few years she’d been gone - strong and broad-shouldered, thick callouseson her fingers, a few scars peeking out from beneath her light, leather armour.Her daughter had taken after Aruci quite a bit in the height department, so shehad to look up at her, which pleased hergreatly. Bluebird looked like she could throw a Xaela man over her shoulder.Good. 

“Mom, if you wanteda meek child, you would’ve beaten the rudeness out of me,” Bluebirdquipped, “We all know Aza’s the good one, anyways.”

“Hmm, true,” Atanicouldn’t help but look past Bluebird. They tended to visit together, herchildren, but she saw no sign of her son, “Where is my little Coeurl?”

“Dealing with ourmounts. He spoils Rations like she’s his baby, honestly,” Bluebird saiddismissively, waving a hand carelessly, “But that’s good, because I get to tellyou first without him interrupting!”

Instantly, Ataniwas wary, because Bluebird had thatsmile, the mischievous, shite-eating grin that always preluded her sayingsomething that would shave another year or two off Atani’s lifespan. Last timeshe saw that grin, Bluebird had cheerfully told her that Aza went and fought aPrimal by himself after beingkidnapped by Beastmen. Aruci had to tackle her to the ground to stop her frommarching all the way to Eorzea on foot.

“If you tell meCoeurl was fighting Primals by himself again…”

“He always doesthat, Mom,” Bluebird scoffed, “No, no, no. Mom, guess what? You know Aza?”

“Yes,” Atani saiddryly, “I know my own child, thank you.”

Bluebird ignoredthe sarcasm, “Well, he’s all grown up! He has…” she leaned in, dropping hervoice theatrically, “A fiancé.”

Atani stared ather, “What.”

“A fiancé,”Bluebird leaned back and clapped her hands, “He’s getting married with someEorzean guy! I’m the Best Woman!”

“WHAT!?”

Aza had only just finished unsaddling Rations whenhe felt a cold chill come over him, the Echo pulsing with ‘danger, danger, danger’. He froze comically, holding Rations’ssaddle close to his chest as he looked about him. He was at the communal trougharea, just a large field on the outskirts of camp where people kept theirmounts to freely wander around, grazing and drinking from the water trough. Afew Borlaaq sentries sat on horses to keep watch over them, but all of themwere relaxed, so it meant no threat was nearby.

He frowned and carefully dropped the saddle ontothe nearby tacking post, rolling his shoulders. Maybe it was just his imagination.

After checking that Rations and Big Bird (and Bluebirdmocked his naming choice, seriously) were happy, he took off at a slow pace todrink in the sounds and sight of his home. The Iriq-Borlaaq encampment was aschaotic as he remembered, with livestock freely meandering between the widelyspaced yurts, the men sitting in their crafting circles, the women sitting atthe fires whetting their swords or fixing their armour, chatting lightly to oneanother. A few children were running about playing Prey, and Aza smiled as hehad to side-step before a few of the kids bumped into him. The smell of driedgrass, fur and wool, of fire and soot, oil, the wafts of meals being cooked intheir yurts with opened doors… something settled over him.

It was like putting on a well-worn favourite coator snuggling in a warm blanket when it was cold. Comfortable and familiar. Thisreally was home.

He spotted Mom before she spotted him. She lookedolder the last time he saw her. There were more grey streaks in her short, darkhair, more wrinkles around her eyes and mouth, but she was stillstraight-backed and strong, still the big, powerful figure of safety that Azahad come to love in his years here.

He smiled, almost skipping the last few steps as hechirped out, “Mom!”

Mom looked from Bluebird, and the frown she’d beensporting instantly turned into one of love,“My little Coeurl! Look at you!”

Aza grinned, coming to a stop next to a smuglysmirking Bluebird. His ears swivelled forwards, his tail curling up inhappiness as Mom reached up and ruffled his hair. He purred, not caring thatthis was childish behaviour. He lovedMom, more than anything in the world, and Bluebird could sneer and call him ‘Mama’sBoy’ all she wanted, but Aza would never scorn a single hug or affectionate patfrom her, ever, even when he was sixty years old.

“You have more muscle,” Mom said approvingly,pulling her hand away and rocking back on her heels, looking him up at down, “Ithink you might start winning your wrestling matches with Bluebird now.”

“Mom,” Aza huffed, rolling his eyes, “I haven’tlost a wrestling match against Bluebird in years.”

“It’s true,” Bluebird said grudgingly, “Though, ‘cuzyou’re so heavy and you bite. Cheater.”

“Well, you punch me in the dick all the time.”

“You kneeme in the cunt!”

Mom laughed as he and Bluebird started playfully(and roughly) shoved at each other’s shoulders, “Kids, kids, c’mon. Stop that.You can play later. Now, why don’t you help me finish carving this, and we’llgo inside and catch up?”

“Yes, Mom!” They both chorused, and like they hadn’tleft at all, easily slipped back into the old routine of home.

It was a little later, when they were sat aroundthe table, drinking milky tea, discussing Dad’s newest role in facilitating craftingtrade between the Iriq-Borlaaq and Doma, that Mom raised the question.

“So, Coeurl,” Mom said lightly, “Bluebird told mesomething interesting.”

“Oh?” Aza asked, glancing at his sister who startedto grin widely. Feeling a shiver of foreboding, mentally running through allthe things Bluebird would snitch on him for (a lot), he forced a smile for Momwho was giving him that look, “What wasit?”

Mom put down her tea, smiled at him and went, “You’reengaged?”

“Ah…” Aza froze, like he hoped the lack of movementwould have Mom forget he was there. No such luck. Mom just continued to look athim, and in the corner of his eye he could see Bluebird giving him the biggestshite-eating grin he’d ever seen. Fucking Bluebird. He was going to piss in herboots for this, “Um… well…”

“To a man you’ve been in a relationship with for four years,” Mom continued, “Why didn’tyou tell me?”

Aza hunched his shoulders and ducked his head, hisears drooping at Mom’s open disapproval. Putting it like that, it did soundkind of bad… but he had his reasons! Or, uh, it kept slipping his mind, andthen he was worried what Mom would doif she found out he was in a relationship. She tended to get… overprotective.

“It was mostly, um… I don’t know,” he said weakly,pressing his fingers together as he stared hard at the table.

Mom just sighed, “Oh, Coeurl. Don’t look like that.I’m not mad.”

“She’s a little mad,” Bluebird whispered to him.

“Well, yes, a little mad,” Mom admitted, “But, Ijust want to know why you felt like you needed to hide this from me and Aruci. Isit because he’s a man? Eorzean?”

“No, it’s not that,” Aza sighed, “Sorry, Mom. Ijust, well, shit’s gotten crazy over there and… uh, I dunno. Anything could’vehappened. I didn’t want to tell you and then, something happened where… well,it wasn’t happening anymore.”

Bluebird grimaced, clearly understanding hismeaning. As usual, whenever his mind lingered over Haurchefant, and thattentative ‘what if’ that could’ve been, his heart ached. But after so manyyears, after discussing it first with Lucia, then Aymeric, it was a verymanageable pain. He dwelt on it for a moment, accepted it, and gently pushed itaside.

“I see,” Mom murmured, giving a small shake of herhead, “Coeurl, you always worry too much.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Well, never mind,” Mom gave him a sly smile, hereyes glittering with mischief as she asked, “So, how is he?”

“Uh, what?” Aza blinked, “He’s okay? Kinda busywhen I left-”

“No, love,” Mom sighed, exchanging looks withBluebird. His sister rolled her eyes, and Mom grinned then looked back at him, “Howis he? I mean, it’s best to be with apartner who satisfies you both emotionally, mentally and physically.”

It took a moment, but when it clicked Aza let out aloud, long ‘ewwww’, “Mom! Gross! I’mnot telling you about our sex life!”

“They do weird shit!” Bluebird instantly butted in,“Like, Aza likes it when his fiancé cums in him and licks it out of his as-”

Aza shrieked and tackled his sister to the floor ofthe yurt. Their milky tea went spilling everywhere, and Mom howled with laughteras they wrestled on the floor, hard enough that she started crying. Aza was toobusy trying to smother Bluebird with the floor.

“You can’t- argh- silence me!” Bluebird yelled, “I’lltell everyone what a kinky fuck youare!”

“Just shut up before I smother you!”

“Never- ow!YOU BIT ME! MOM, HE BIT ME!”

“YOU’RE TELLING LIES! MOM, BLUEBIRD’S LYING!”

Mom just continued to laugh, leaving them to it.

Even after being away from home for years, itreally was like they never left.

[kivaember]

Layers: Aza Lynel

LAYER ONE : THE OUTSIDE

Name: “Aza. Just Aza.”

Eye Color: "Yellow!”

Hair Style/Color: “Uh, it’s sandy-blond? Or, pale brown? And I just tie it back. It gets frizzy and curly if I don’t.”

Height: “....” /mutters under breath: “Five fulms...”

Clothing Style: “Armour. I need at least a layer of steel and leather on me at all times - unless I’m asleep or bathing, I guess.”

LAYER TWO: THE INSIDE

Your Fears: “... I’m not really comfortable saying those... what, just one? I guess, uh, I can say one. So, I’m kind of scared of... dogs. Yeah, hilarious, the cat is afraid of dogs. Laugh and I’ll stab you.”

Your Guilty Pleasure: "Is there such thing as guilty pleasure? Well, hmm, I guess... well, I dunno. Wait - this isn’t exclusively about sex? Oh, so, hm, I-I suppose I like... um, love... poetry... don’t tell anyone that though!”

Your Biggest Pet Peeve: "People who won’t get out of my way. It just wastes everyone’s time, y’know? We all know they’ll just die within minutes, so, what did you even achieve, corpse #120? Fuck all. I now have blood on my boots and need to clean them later. Thanks. Also, what about low level bandits who look at me and think, ‘yes, I will attack the Warrior of Light with my shitty knife, this will definitely end well’? Did you mother drop you on your head as a child you dumb fuck-” /continues to rant for twenty minutes about people who dare inconvenience him with unsatisfying easy and dull fights

Your Ambition for the Future: "Um. Well, I guess my ambition is to live and, uh, sort of, mmm, well...” /mumbles quietly “Marry Aymeric and go on adventures together...”

LAYER THREE: THOUGHTS

Your First Thoughts Waking Up: "I feel old.’”

What You Think About the Most: "Aymeric.” 

What You Think About Before Bed: “I guess it depends on the day? Sometimes I think about what I’m going to do tomorrow, or who, haha- okay, yeah, that was bad. I’m sorry.”

Your Best Quality Is: "My ability to kill whatever crosses my path. Oh, is that too fucked up? Um, Aymeric likes my face, so maybe that’s my best quality? Or my tail? Oh, that. My tail. I love how silky and soft it feels.”

LAYER FOUR: WHAT’S BETTER?

Single or Group Dates: “Single. It’s kinda awkward to do double, right? What if you want to fu- uh. Hm. Nevermind.”

To be Loved or Respected: "You.. need both to do either, don’t you?”

Beauty or Brains: "Both. I’m a shallow man. I need both.”

Dogs or Cats: "Cats.”

LAYER FIVE: DO YOU?

Lie: "All the time. Wait, that sounds bad... I mean about my emotional state. Wait...”

Believe in Yourself: "I believe I can survive anything like a cockroach. I’ve been doing it pretty well so far.”

Believe in Love: "Fuck. Yes. Love is everything. Anyone says only weaklings believe in love, they can meet me at Wolf’s Pier in the next twenty minutes.”

Want Someone: "Ha... um...”

LAYER SIX: EVER?

Been on Stage: "... um. The FC has... stage nights. W-With the... pole doing...” /incoherent mumbling

Done Drugs: “Soooo many. My blood is probably toxic- not that I do that anymore! Hahaha, no, not at all... ah...”

Changed Who You Were to Fit In: “I did... I guess I changed a little when I went with the Scions. I was... very different, before Eorzea. It was good I changed, but, before Ishgard, I didn’t much like who I changed into either, and I wasn’t happy. Trying to be a perfect Warrior of Light, that person doesn’t exist. Who I am now... it’s a lot different, and it wasn’t a conscious change but... I think I’m happy like this. I fit in well enough with the people who matter because of it.”

LAYER SEVEN: FAVORITES

Favorite Color: "Blue.”

Favorite Animal: “Chocobos. They’re the purest creature on this horrible, dark star and if anyone so much as fucking hurts one or abuses I will come for them in the night. I will fucking destroy you. Chocobos are fucking angels and we don’t deserve them.”

Favorite Food: “Meat.” /a pause, then a sigh “I can practically hear the dirty joke Bluebird would make about that...”

Favorite Game: “Predator. It’s a popular game for kids back in the Steppes. The game is someone is the predator, and everyone else is the prey. I think - it’s like a mix of hide and seek and tag in Eorzea, except little stabs are allowed. Non-fatal ones. Pain encourages rapid improvements in speed and hiding skills, ha!”

LAYER EIGHT: AGE

Day Your Next Birthday Will Be: “Fairly soon... or has it already been? Huh, not sure. I never pay attention to it, honestly...”

How Old Will You Be: “... you shouldn’t ask a guy his age.” 

Age You Lost Your Virginity: “... don’t. Ask those questions.”

Does Age Matter: “Yes. Yes, fuck yes. Adults only for this kind of thing. Consensual adults!”

LAYER NINE: IN A BOY OR GIRL

Best Personality: “Hmm, I like... someone who’s is certain in who they are and what they want. But they have to be kind and patient, and ambitious. They need to keep up with me, and not be overly clingy or jealous, and-” /pretty much describes Aymeric

Best Eye Color: “Blue, definitely.”

Best Hair Color: “Black, with thick hair to curl my fingers into when we’re- uuuh, yes, that.”

Best Thing to Do With a Partner: “Bed.”

LAYER TEN: FINISH THE SENTENCE

I love: “My family, my friends, Aymeric, Bluebird occasionally, I guess.”

I feel: “okay? Sleepy. Oh, yeah, that. Sleepy.”

I hide: “my... uh... okay, I’ll come clean. I’ve needed to fart since we started this talk, so, can I just...?”

I miss: “Mom. Um, I mean! I miss- shut up.”

I wish: “That this war with the Garleans or Ascians or whoever decides to crawl out of the ground like some kind of mole from hell, doesn’t kill anymore people and we all grow old and happy together. I want a happy ending. That’s all I’ve ever wanted... and I’ll kill anyone who threatens that.”

Tagged by @lumei-xiv (I finally got round to this... thank you! I enjoyed it!)