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myreia · 2 days ago

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Exile from Delight

—chapter 1: strings, unattached

Rating: Mature [sexual content in the opening scene] Characters: Thancred, Hilda Pairings: Thancred x Hilda [background Thancred x Aureia (WoL) and background Aymeric x Aureia (WoL)] Chapter Words: 1,941 Summary: Hilda isn’t supposed to mean much to him. A good time, a fun time, a distraction from his sorry lot. But sometimes the best of distractions come hand-in-hand with a sharp tongue and a quick wit. Call it the gift of insight, if you would. Prompt: v. laughter | gift Chapters: one • two • three Read on AO3

Raven hair and ruby eyes.

The feel of her lips against his—searing and hot and devouring—is as intoxicating as Gibrillont’s best-worst wine. When she kisses him, it’s easy to be lulled into a stupor. When she kisses him, it’s easy to want to forget. Let time pass, while away the bells until both of them are hazy and spent. It’s not like he has anything better to do in this city.

But whereas she walks away from these encounters with a smirk and a laugh, sated and satisfied, he leaves each one more hollow than before. Like a barrel that has been scraped out one too many times and yet somehow there is still some kind of shit stuck to the bottom.

Funny how he thought his life would get easier once he returned to civilization. Now he would almost prefer to stay out in the wilderness.

Almost.

He rasps—eyes squeezed shut, mouth hot against hers, his body pressing hers into the wall—and exhales a shaky breath as his hips thrust upwards into searing heat. Her fingernails rake across his back and she sucks in a ragged breath; her hands found their way beneath his shirt some time ago, seeking the warmth of his flesh to guard against the cold. She quivers, whole body shaking in the moment of her release, and breaks the kiss. He bucks against her, panting—head now pressed into the crook of her neck, mindless of the way her dark hair spills about her—and listens to her muffled cry and the satisfied, throaty laugh that comes after.

The grip of pleasure subsides. Devastatingly close, and yet thankfully distant.

It’s too much to try to chase it.

Not from her.

Raven hair and ruby eyes.

She slips free, still buzzing with laughter, and collapses against the wall in a haze, eyeing the puffs of snow that fall freely from the sky. Her cheeks are flushed, her lips raw from kissing, her body still shaking from the aftermath. Quick and dirty, just how she likes it. “That was worth somethin’,” she says, already tugging the laces of her trousers closed. She works quickly for someone whose fingers are stiff and red from the cold.

With a grunt, he turns and presses his shoulder into the wall, fiddling now with his own laces. Dissatisfaction gnaws away at him, pesky and unwanted. He shoves it away, just like he shoves away his useless cock. “Aye, yeah,” he replies. “Perhaps, yes.”

Hilda’s laughter fades. “That was four ways of saying yes,” she says, placing a hand on his arm. “You’ve outdone yourself, I reckon.” She hasn’t bothered to do up her shirt yet and a breast peaks out from behind the fabric. A red mark forms on the tender underside, luscious and bright. A remembrance of where his mouth was not long ago. “Everythin’ all right? How much cause for concern should I have?”

Thancred snorts and joins her in leaning against the wall. Folding his arms, he arches his neck and turns his gaze upward to the tangled nest of stone and steel stretching ever higher. They’re sheltered here, tucked away in this forgotten alleyway in the Brume where secrets go to die. It’s almost cozy, in its own way—until you look up. Until you see the grand city above you and are reminded of how far down you’ve gone.

There has never been any doubt in his mind why Hilda is the way she is. One look at the place of her birth says it all.

He exhales a breath, watching it mist in the crisp air and spiral away to be lost in the snow. He could fabricate an excuse on the fly—Twelve know he has good enough reason to be distracted right now. He is, unfortunately, an important cog in the machine that is the Scions of the Seventh Dawn and the responsibility they carry. They must do what they can, even without Minfilia to guide them, for no one else has the knowledge or the skill.

Dragons, Garleans, primal summonings. Missing friends, found allies, resurfaced enemies. The Warriors of Darkness and their Ascian overseers are the pressing matter at hand, and yet as he is between tasks and waiting for the Temple Knights, he finds himself floundering. And thinking too much about matters of no important.

Such as a ring he spotted in a pawnbroker’s stall on the fringes of the Jeweled Crozier. A band of silver filigree with a small black gemstone at its heart. A simple ring of little note to passing Ishgardians, but he knows better. Such exquisite craftmanship could only indicate the ring came from an Ul’dahn goldsmith, even without the Ul’dahn crest engraved on the inside.

He recognized it in a heartbeat as the ring Nanamo gifted Aureia as a token of her thanks.

It was precious to her and never left her hand. So, what is it doing here, in an Ishgardian pawnshop of all places? Stolen and resold? Or did she pawn it herself?

“You’re thinkin’ about it again, aren’t you.”

“I certainly am not, no such thing is on my—” He can feel her glaring. Sure enough, when he glances to the side, he finds her piercing red eyes boring into him. Nothing gets past the Mongrel. “Fine. I will be the first to admit to a certain level of distraction.”

“That’s an awful lot of words to say ‘my mind is someplace else.’”

“Yes, quite. Old habits die hard, as I’m sure you know. You’ve collected quite a few of them now.”

Snow falls, drifting silently about them on the breeze. The air grows colder by the second, though perhaps it was always this cold. They simply did not have the time nor the care to notice after they pulled each other into this alley.

“Is that what you think you are?” Hilda says after a moment. “A habit?”

He shrugs.

“You’re a very sad man, Waters.”

The bitter taste of laughter rumbles in the back of his throat. She’s right, of course—her blunt insight is what he likes about her. Perhaps that’s why he finds himself drawn to her. Ishgard is cold without company; even the simplest connection is enough to light the smallest flame and stave off what lurks in the shadows. As for her, well—she has wrangled her demons and come out the victor. Young, carefree, her whole life ahead of her. He must provide some form of entertainment, otherwise why would she keep coming back?

They’ve been at it for months now, this thing between them. Seeking one another out whenever the mood strikes or when they happen to cross paths. Taverns and bars and alleyways, even once in the shadows of the House Fortemps manor. It doesn’t really matter where to them, though he suspects she enjoys the illicit nature of doing it outdoors in a city with a culture as tightly wound as Ishgard’s.

What started as casual good fun has remained casual good fun, and yet the question lingers in the back of his mind whether he actually enjoys it or if he is simply going through the paces. Doing what is expected of someone like him—out of obligation or necessity or simply because it is what he has always done. He has felt that way since the Antitower.

Since Minfilia.

The grief hits him like a wave, and the afternoon seems all the more colder.

“People ain’t habits, you know.”

His gaze flicks down. Hilda stands in front of him—jacket pulled closed, boots crunching on frozen snow—blocking his view. Her brows draw together; the fierce look sharpens the angles of her face.

“I—”

She raises a finger and prods him in the chest. “They ain’t. Don’t start thinkin’ shit like that, that’s a highborn attitude if I ever heard one.”

He lets out a breath. “It is. I’m sorry.” The next words dance on the tip of his tongue. “May I ask you something, Hilda?”

“Sure. Best let whatever it is in your head out. Does nothin’ for you to keep all of that shut in, yeah?”

“Why are you here with me?”

The words are blunt. Better to just say it.

“Why are you…?” She takes a step back, eyes wide with surprise. “Where in the bleedin’ hells did that come from?”

“Just entertain it, would you? Please?”

“I dunno.” She shrugs and crosses her arms over her chest. “You’re fun, Waters. I like you. You think different than both Brumefolk and highborn fools, and I like that. But if you’re lookin’ for a nice lady to settle down with, you’re in the wrong place. Though I don’t suppose you would, come to think of it.”

“Would what?”

“Settle.” Hilda cocks her head to the side, a slight smile on her lips. “You don’t strike me as the type.”

He shoves his stiff hands into his pockets and lets the comment pass over him.

“And now you’ve got me curious,” she continues, eyes gleaming with mischief. She leans in, forearm pressed to the wall behind his head, her body brushing against his. “I gave you my answer, only fair for you to give me yours. Why are you here with me?”

He stares past her, eyes glazing over, filled with the grey and white of the swirling snow. “You might not like the answer.”

“Can’t be any worse than the one I’ve landed on.” Beneath the flippancy there’s an edge to her tone. Sharp. Not hurting, but something akin to it. Perhaps—despite his best efforts—he has made her feel lesser, a replacement for the woman he cannot have and no longer wants. It is pure coincidence they look so damn similar.

Raven hair and ruby eyes.

“Waters.” Hilda’s voice floats somewhere before him, distant yet close. “Thancred. I’m losin’ you here, are you—?”

“Truth be told, you’re a distraction. A good one, but a distraction, nonetheless. Unfortunately, I am need of many distractions of late, and the moment I no longer do—”

“Cold bastard.” She grimaces and shoves away from the wall. “What an arse.”

“I know.”

By rights she should deck him in the face and march out of the alleyway. He doesn’t know why she doesn’t and wishes she would. But he supposes there is nothing he could say to get the likes of Hilda Ware to leave—perhaps she stays out of pity, feeling too bad for him to walk away. Or perhaps it’s morbid curiosity, like watching a disaster unfold and being unable to avert one’s eyes. Or perhaps she’s using him just as he’s using her.

Or perhaps it speaks to her character that she isn’t so easily scared off.

“Right,” Hilda says, tossing her ponytail over her shoulder. She digs her gloves out of her pockets and pulls them on. “We are goin’ for a walk. No complaints.”

Thancred splutters. “I—what—”

“Ah ah ah! No complainin’, you hear? I think you owe me after what you just pulled.”

He sucks in cold air through his teeth to immediate regret, wincing at the pain.

She arches an eyebrow. “I could threaten to shoot you first,” she intones in a dangerous whisper, leaning in close. Her arm slips through his. “If you’d rather.”

“A kind gesture to be sure, but one I’m keen to skip, thank you.”

“Ha! See?” She grins. “You’ve still got some sense of self rolling around in there somewhere. Come on.”

With that, she ushers him from the alley and out into the endless murky grey of the snowclad Brume.

next chapter [tba - updates next friday!] ->

#happy 2 year anniversary to this disaster of a 4-way love triangle #ffxiv #ff14 #ffxiv fanfic #thancred waters #hilda ware #thanhilda #wolcred #writing tag

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neighawolf · 1 year ago

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On the 22nd sun of the 6th Astral moon, Rornir and Urianger were bound by handfasting across the bridge in Kugane Castle royal gardens.

A year passed, and the threads which wove these two fates together still hold as strong as they day they were bond. A year of personal growth, exploration, happiness, love, adventure and a hope for a future. Threads from the ceremony were woven into bracelets that each wear everyday. A single thread was woven into each of the rings. Rornir cast his ring wood, a Doman Dogwood. He had Urianger's ring cast in moon meteorite. A representation of their differences unified by love.

The traditional theme of first year was "paper". They participated in a paper fan dance and trade, they both made their own design and during the dance, the fans were traded. They then posed, at the behest of their besties, Alex and Thancred, for a secret fan kiss.

They then participated in a lantern lighting ceremony. They wrote their wishes and hopes and thanks on slips of paper, tied to a simple lantern. They lit it together and lifted it to the sky. A symbol of hope, ever burning fire, a prayer even to Rornir's patron, Suzaku. Rornir was surprised at how seriously and thoroughly Urianger had done his research.

They then had dinner at Rornir's favourite little shop. Rornir knew the owners grandparents, and had been a patron since the shop opened. He's witnessed the family grow through generations, a sweet Auri family. The current owners are his good friends and helped Urianger plan a special meal. When they docked, Alex and Thancred had arranged, per Urianger's request, a sea of red and white carnations. Another traditional representation for a first year anniversary.

As other friends Kugane residents departed (Rornir is Othardian born and spent most of his time in Kugane, so being a WoL from the East is a bit of a celebrity, and he and Uri currently live in Shirogane, so visit often) Rornir and Uri took one last photo of a sweeping kiss. As Uri seemed to have planned everything, Rornir had to have a moment of spontaneity.

They then made their way to one of Rornir's favourite spots, sitting on a wire across the rooftops. They sat in silence beside one another, gazing at the city that was their beloved home and up to the stars. They retired for the evening, flush and eager with love. After an intimate evening, they curled up together....and probably still haven't left the bed this morning.

Congratulations boys, on a happy first year of marriage. And thank you, as your little creator, for making my days happier and filled with love and laughter at your little lovey shenanigans.

(Sorry its late, I took these yesterday but by the time I finished it was late, and they'd have been lost to the algorithm and I want these to be seen. I'm very happy about them)

#love #ffxiv #ffxiv viera #ffxiv wol #ffxiv oc #ffxiv gpose #viera #wolrianger #oc lore #ffxiv urianger #ffxiv screenshots #urianger #final fantasy 14 #ff14 #final fantasy #anniversary #happy anniversary #rorianger #i love them so much

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