#miqo’te ear wiggles! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fi-fi-squeaks · 8 months ago

Text

The Day Is Yours

By: Fiona_V

Jammy had a determined look in her eyes as she wandered the streets of The Mists. Her running shoes pounded the pavement, her parka catching the wind on the sharper turns. She wore a large pink backpack, the two wiry ears of her companion poking out of either side of the top flap. Her tail was perked upright and her nose wiggled as if she were on the hunt. One hand was closed in a tight little fist, while the other pinched tightly around an open pink envelope and the golden letter within. The woman passed by a chronometer that hung in the main square of the residential neighborhood. She paused and glanced at the time…it was noon.

“Oh gosh!” Jammy said as she stared at the time. “I didn’t know I was out that long.”

Jammy frowned and raised the envelope in her hand.

“Almost a full hour, and I don’t feel like I’m any closer to figuring this out.”

She paused and studied the envelope one more time. The letter was addressed to her but had no mention of who sent it. She didn't recognize the handwriting, and it didn't have any particular scent to it. If there was a clue as to who sent it and why, the maid couldn't see it.

“Hmm… so frustrating.” Jammy said with a sigh.

“What’s frustrating?” a voice asked, lips right next to her ear.

“WHAAAAaaa!” Jammy shouted.

The voice startled the Miqo’te so much that she leaped up what felt like three whole fulms. Her arms flailed like windmill blades and her cute little fangs flashed as she gritted her teeth. She turned her head side to side until they fell on the voice's owner, a platinum blonde-haired Viera woman, with beautifully tanned and toned skin, and an athletic figure. She was wearing a cyan training bra and a pair of matching workout pants.

“F-frey?” Jammy said. “You scared me.”

Jammy laughed a nervous laugh. The other woman was so strong and striking. She could wear the ruddiest clothes for her morning training and always look so beautiful and resplendent. It was no small wonder why she was so important to The Silver Talons Free Company or why she had the heart of their mutual friend.

The maid was surprised she didn’t startle her more often.

Frey waved her hands in an apologetic gesture.

“I’m sorry, Jammy,” Frey said. “I saw you walking around and wanted to say hi. But you looked so focused you must not have noticed me coming. But what are you doing exactly?”

Jammy’s tail swished back and forth. She waved the envelope over her head, bringing it to eye level as she spoke. “Oh! I got this weird letter early this morning. It mentioned clues to something made just for me. Don’t know who sent it, but I have a few days off so I just had to try and figure it out!”

Frey grinned and moved closer to the maid. She snatched up the letter, examining it with silent amusement.

“Oh yeah? That’s exciting! Had any luck?”

Jammy shook her head.

“No, but I’ve only been looking for an hour or so. But hey, if you’re free…do you want to help me look? Bowie got bored and fell asleep in my backpack.”

Frey giggled and gestured to the letter.

“Sure! But let’s see the letter. Maybe we can put our heads together.”

“Sure! Here’s what it says.”

Jammy drew the letter out of the envelope. The paper was rough against her fingers despite the pastel color it had. She unfolded the letter. The top of the page had a sketch drawing of the Mists as seen from the highest northwestern entrance. The rest of the letter was a short three-line poem that read:

Greetings Fair Maid May This Letter Find You Well

I’ve Hidden a Treasure That You Might Find Swell

Your First Clue Shall Ring True

Jammy glanced at her friend once she read the letter.

“Obviously it’s a riddle. But I’m not sure what it’s asking for.” Jammy said. “So I’ve been walking around the neighborhood hoping that something would pop up.”

Frey hummed and tapped her cheek. She stared intently at the letter and tapped her toe as she thought.

“Hmm…Find you well. Might find swell..Shall ring true?” Frey said. “I think the rhymes are what we should be looking at. Don’t you?”

Jammy blinked at the taller woman.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, think about it. Well…swell…what else rhymes with those?”

“Pose?” Jammy said with an impish grin.

Frey reached for the Miqo’te’s ear and pinched it until the maid yelped.

“No time for jokes, Mew. I’m being serious!” Frey said.

The girls laughed together, though the nickname made Jammy blush.

“Alright alright…what rhymes with Well and swell? Hell…shell…fell…Zell?”

“Zell? That’s not a word.”

Jammy shook her head. “No, but it sounds like a good name, doesn’t it?”

Frey narrowed her eyes. She pinched her fingers together.

“I swear Jammy, you HAVE to be messing with me. The poem is talking about a bell. Bells ring don’t they?”

Jammy gasped and clapped a fist into a palm.

“OH YEAH! You’re right. So we should be looking for a bell then?”

Frey smiled and folded her arms across her chest.

“I think so. And you know where I saw a bell?” She gestured towards a tall building made of white stone on the far side of the neighborhood. “Doesn’t the Topmast have a bell hanging over the chocobo stables?”

“...Does it?” Jammy said.

Frey sighed and giggled at the girl.

“Come on~ Follow me and let’s check it out!”

The two girls then raced through the neighborhood with a bounce to their steps. Frey pulled ahead, as she was the more fit of the pair. But she kept an even pace so the Miqo’te maid would never be far behind. But for her part, the maid seemed invigorated by the hunt, especially with the company of her friend. So neither girl was out of breath, by the time they reached the Topmast.

The apartment complex was a tall and impressive building designed in such a way that the residents would have a splendid view of the sparkling beach nearby. But the girls found their attention drawn to a far more humble stable not too far from the entrance. Because there they found a silver bell hanging high upon a wall.

Frey smiled as she looked at the bell. She rested her arms on her hips and spoke with a bellowy purr.

“See Jammy,” the taller girl said, “I bet what you’re looking for is right around here.”

“So what do you think we’ll find?” the maid said.

“I dunno. But let’s find out. I’ll check out the bell and you look around; sound good?”

“Mmm hmm!”

Jammy smiled a toothy smile. Her face was warm and joyful. The girl’s tail flicked and swished side to side. She spun her tail so fast that Frey wondered if the girl would fly away if the winds shifted just so.

The girls separated then and looked all around. Frey studied the bell with a serious look on her face, while the Miqo’te crouched down and tippy-toe stepped as she sniffed and poked for some sort of clue.

It didn’t take long for her to stumble upon a shovel that had her name carved along the handle. The shovel stuck out of the ground near a pile of loose and freshly dug dirt. The girl laughed and grabbed the shovel, and let instinct guide her as she sank the shovel into the dirt and began to dig.

Shunk Shunk TINK!

When the shovel hit something metallic, the girl’s eyes shot wide open. She laughed and dug and dug until she found an upturned shallow pit and a small iron box beneath. The girl squatted down and plucked up the box, then looked over her shoulder and waved at Frey.

“Frey! Frey! Come over here! I found something.”

The Miqo’te then examined the box. It was lightweight and small enough to fit completely in both of her hands. The box was only as dirty as you'd expect from being placed in the ground for a short length of time. It had a single bronze latch that wasn't locked.

“Hey Jammy, what do you have there?” Frey said.

“I found a small lockbox. I think whomever sent me this note wanted me to find it.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” Frey said. “Open it up and let’s see what’s inside.”

The maid flipped the latch, opened the box, and looked inside. She found a sparkling silver necklace. The jewelry piece had a small pendant at the end which had the shiniest pink stone the girls had ever seen. Beneath the gem was a note that had a single word written upon it…Jammy.

“Wow!” Jammy said. “This is so pretty! Do you think the sender meant this for me?”

Frey laughed and patted the Miqo’te’s shoulder.

“Of course they did. Didn’t you say the clues were addressed to you? And look at that letter. They must have wanted you to see this.”

“But…it’s so fancy. I don’t know if I should…”

Frey shook her head and pressed a finger against the other girl’s lips. She leaned in, her hot breath brushing against her skin as she whispered into the Miqo’te’s ear.

“Don’t you dare say this isn’t for you or that you don’t deserve it. It’s a day off and you found this treasure. So…why don’t you wear it?”

Frey didn’t wait for Jammy to respond. She plucked the pendant out from the box, then undid the clasp in the back. She rested the shining jewelry against her chest, then drew the silver chain up and around the girl’s neck.

Jammy shut her eyes and held her breath as she relished the feel of the jewelry upon her skin. It felt warm and made her body tingle in ways she never imagined. She gasped when she heard the click-snap as the clasp was replaced and locked behind her neck. It was a sound somehow both familiar and foreign.

“There.” Frey said. “A necklace fit for a princess. Don’t you agree?”

Jammy gasped. Her jaw dropped as she focused on what her friend had said just then. A necklace fit for a princess. A princess. Princess.

Frey then pinched the girl’s cheek, pulling playfully.

“Hey, Jammy! Wake up. You still have to read the letter don’t you?”

Jammy shook her head from side to side as if she had just broken through a spell. Her cheeks were red with a flushed bashfulness as she plucked the letter from the box. She opened the page and found another poem contained within.

“Ok…let’s see what this says. Are you ready?”

One Clue Found, One more to go

My Princess Shall Find It At The Golden Show

Seek the Dealer With The Purple Pin

You'll have your treasure if you win

Jammy smiled. She knew exactly where to go next.

~~~

The Golden Saucer was one of the most garishly decorated spots in all of Eorzea. Everything was plush carpets, golden filigree, and enough flashing lights and jubilant music to fill twenty festivals every day. Gaudy, flashy, and shallow; yet it was adored by far more than it turned away.

While many considered the gaming space to be noisy, Jammy always enjoyed it for what it was. So unlike in The Mists, she took the lead. She bounded and spun through the halls with skips, hops, and bounces. She led the taller girl from the airship dock through the main foyer, and around the corner to her favorite part of the gaming center.

“And here we are!” she called out to Jammy. “The Triple Triad Battlehall.”

She swept her hand around, indicating the tables that dotted the room. Each table had fanciful employees in the showy uniforms of The Golden Saucer, with Triple Triad decks by their sides and gaming tables in front of them. Most of the tables were already occupied as gamers and gamblers tried their skill and luck in equal parts against the House that Gil Built.

Frey drank in the scene then smiled as she patted the other girl’s head.

“Oh I see! That does make sense. So then, we just have to find a dealer with a purple pin, right?”

Jammy bobbed her head.

“Yep yep! Hopefully the table isn’t taken up. I don’t want to lose my chance at the prize.” Jammy said.

She took a step into the battlehall when a pair of large gray-brown hands slapped down on her and Frey's shoulders.

“A prize ye say?” said a familiar voice. “Is that what my favorite women are doing here?”

Jammy turned around and found her face to face with a large bust just ilms away from her face. Her cheeks burned and turned into a tomato-red shade as she forced herself to look up past the woman’s breasts. She soon found herself looking into a pair of golden eyes.

The woman was noticeably taller than her or Frey. She had a face that was soft, sensual, and inviting from her playful smile to the beauty mark near her chin. Her hair was a short cut with dark black locks ending in purple tips that matched her equally purple lips. She wore what may have once been a tux with tails but was now closer to a leotard. A tiny white cap rested atop her head with a bright red flower complimenting her look.

Jammy knew this Roegadyn woman as Pfrymlona, her

“Ahoy Jammy, what brings ye and Frey out today?” Pfrymlona said again.

Frey smiled at Pfrymlona and stood behind Jammy. She squeezed the Miqo’te’s shoulders and held her in place.

Jammy found that curious since she rarely greeted the Roegadyn without kissing her. It almost felt like the girls had been planning something.

“Oh, I spotted Jammy in the Mists and we’re hunting down clues to a treasure just for her. Want to join us?”

Pfrymlona grinned.

“Aye, I would be pleased to join ye.” The Limsan said. “So then what’re we looking for?”

Jammy motioned inside the battlehall.

“Come with us! We’ll explain on the way.”

The trio made their way around the battlehall. They stopped at every table and checked out the dealers on duty. They all wore similar outfits; colorful vests and trousers for the masculine-presenting dealers, and bunny outfits for those presenting as feminine. J’mari had felt equal parts euphoric and embarrassed the first time she put the ears on. Still, the girls soon found that none seemed to be wearing pins as they circled the room.

At last, they were left with only one table remaining, the one in the center of the room. It was the dealing table for the high rollers in The Golden Saucer. Those who played Triple Triad across the whole of Eorzea to test their wits and decks against the trends and rules that spread across the known world.

It was a legendary table that was rarely used throughout the day. And that day was no different; for behind the counter stood an Au'ra wearing a red vest with gold lines strewn across it. The dour-looking Au'ra had a serious expression on their face. But what stood out to the girls was the decorative purple grapefruit pin, resting on their lapel.

“Look girls!” Jammy said. “That dealer has a grape pin! They HAVE to be the one we want.”

Pfrymlona laughed and reached down to clap a palm across the Miqo’te’s seat.

“Aye? Then go and win yer prize, girl!”

J'mari yelped at the touch. She gave the Roegadyn a look and flicked her tail to swat the taller woman's hand. She then hopped and skipped across the room. When she reached the central table, she nearly fell over herself and had to catch herself by grabbing at the table's edge.

“Excuse me!” Jammy said. “I want to play against you!”

The Au’ra sniffed and looked down into Jammy’s eyes. The dealer’s expression barely changed as they bobbed their head, then jabbed a finger at a nearby sign that read, Invitations Only.

“Sorry miss,” the Au'ra said, “Today this table’s reserved. You need a written invitation to take part.”

The maid almost walked away. But she looked all around the room and realized that the dealer in front of her was the only one with a purple pin. Unless the women had arrived too early…or too late, this high roller table HAD to be the one meant for her.

So Jammy made a face at the Au’ra. She then reached into her purse and withdrew the letter she found in The Mists. She then waved it around and offered it to the dealer.

“Is this what you’re looking for?”

The Au’ra looked down at the page, then smiled and bobbed their head.

“Yep, looks like that’s the one. Then you must be the princess.” The dealer said.

The Au’ra ducked behind the table. Jammy listened as the dealer opened a door and slid something out from whatever drawer they had hidden back there. Then they stood back up and set a wrapped box on the table and set it to their right.

Meanwhile, Pfrymlona and Frey walked behind the Miqo'te. One woman standing behind each of the smaller maids. They looked like guards and soldiers protecting their charge from the imposing high-roller's table dealer.

The Au’ra looked at the taller women, then settled their eyes on Jammy’s.

“Good afternoon, Princess. Allow me to explain the rules.” The Au’ra said as they motioned to the table. “This table and my time has been reserved for you. You have two hours to win three games in a row. The rules will change every other game and you are only allowed three substitutions during the challenge. If you win, you get the box. If you lose, then you may have it but will have to pay 2 million MGP. Is that understood?”

Pfrymlona and Frey gasped.

“Ye sure ye can handle them?” The tallest woman asked.

“Doesn’t matter, Lona,” said the Viera, “We’ll be here cheering you on, no matter how long it takes.”

Jammy beamed as the women wound her up. She felt so much bigger and bolder than ever before. It was almost as if their support lent her strength she didn’t even know she could possess. It was more than enough that she looked positively daring as she jabbed a finger at the dealer. Her other hand reached inside her backpack to a special plastic box that was tucked away in a hidden pocket sewn into the side.

“I have my deck right here!” Jammy said as she withdrew the plastic box.

It contained a set of decorative Triple Triad cards that were each stored in pristine sleeves. A prize card in a gilded sleeve signed by the Manderville patron himself sat in the front of the box. The dealer stared down at the signature on the sleeve, their eyes now wide open and their jaw slack.

"W-wait? You are a Triple Crown winner?!" The dealer said with more emotion than they had shown during the entire conversation.

Jammy laughed and bobbed her head. “That’s right! Three times even! So I accept your terms! Let’s play.”

The match that followed could have been one to write about for generations. With sweat and trembling hands as every play and move was considered. Because champion-level games were off the clock as they were as much a performance for curious onlookers as they were battles of mental fortitude and wit.

But that wasn't the match that happened that afternoon. As Jammy played card after card with confidence. The girl's strategy was a mix of craft schemes and brutish plays. Card after card changed colors to match Jammy's side. And in the end, she came out on top winning with a 14-point lead across the first three games. She gave a haughty laugh, the back of her palm resting against her chin. She had seen a woman in Doma celebrate her victory this way and thought she would try it on herself. It felt good.

After the game, the Au’ra dealer slumped into their seat. Their arms fell slack to their sides as they stared dumbly at the table in front of them. Time passed and the Au’ra could only chuckle as they finally spoke, while the girls were hopping and cheering for the remarkably swift win.

“By the Twelves most damnable features, you made me feel like a first timer.” The dealer said. “I don’t think I’ve seen a more intimidating foe than I have tonight.”

The Au’ra sighed. They then reached for the wrapped box and offered it to Jammy.

“Your prize, Princess.”

Jammy laughed and took the box from the Au'ra. She slammed it down on the table and was busy undoing the ribbons and wrapping paper when the Au'ra gestured to Pfrymlona with a sweeping gesture.

“I’m sorry Madame. It seems I wasn’t up to snuff for buying you time. Forgive me.”

Jammy blinked. Did she hear what she just thought she heard?

She looked over her shoulder at Pfrymlona and saw that the Roegadyn had the deepest blush across her cheeks. Her lips were curled in a bashful smirk while sweat ran down her cheek.

“What do they mean, buying you time?” Jammy said. “Were you my mysterious admirer?”

Frey patted Jammy’s shoulder. She leaned closer and pressed her chest against the smaller girl’s shoulder.

“Actually, we both were. If you want, we could walk and talk, unless you don’t mind them overhearing us.”

The Au’ra laughed and clapped their hands together.

“Please! After that trouncing, I deserve SOME entertainment.” They looked at Jammy. “Please say you’ll say your peace here.”

“Uhhh…sure. Please tell me now.” The Miqo'te said. She then looked at Lona and Frey.

The two women moved side by side. Pfrymlona gestured to the box on the counter, while Frey spoke up.

“Well first, why don’t you open the box. It’ll make more sense when you see what’s inside.”

Jammy looked away from the other women. She shrugged and then tore away at the rest of the paper and ribbons. The dealer was kind enough to collect the waste and throw it away so the maid could focus on the surprise within.

Once the wrapping was tossed away, she opened the box. And inside she found a small three slips of paper. Jammy picked up the pages one by one and examined each and found that they were paid-in-full receipts. The first was for a clothier in Ul’dah. The second was for reservations for three in The Golden Tiara Dinner Club. The last was for a weekend-long stay in The Sultan’s Coin, one of the most famous and expensive hotels in all of Ul’dah.

“Wait…” Jammy said. “...are these all for me?”

She looked between the other women with tears in her eyes.

Pfrymlona smiled and looked at Jammy.

“Aye. Remember when we last had a night out together? You gave us the idea of saving up for a treat for the holiday.”

Jammy blushed at the memory. She remembered it well, especially the things that the girls did together when they were alone. Things that she dared not think about, with a stranger so close.

“Y-yeah, I remember…” Jammy said.

“Well, did you forget what's comin' this weekend?” Frey said. “It’s Little Ladies Day! And as The Legend of the Lost Lady says, no girl should feel like they aren’t a lady. Or…our princess.”

Pfrymlona grinned and winked at Jammy.

“Aye! We were hoping to tie you up with games for a few hours until the clothier opens. Then ye’d have yer own choice of dresses for dinner. Then, after dinner, we’d retire to a hotel in a Sultana’s Suite. So ye could be our princess and take charge of how we spend our time.”

Jammy’s cheeks were soaked with tears. She cried so much, she struggled to see the other women. It was hard for her to breathe, and even harder to ask the women why. But she HAD to know. So through her tears and wavering voice, she finally managed to ask:

“B–but why?”

Pfrymlona patted Frey's shoulder. Frey nodded at her fiance and then spoke with a proud voice.

“Because you’ve always been our princess. We care about you very VERY much and could think of no better way to spend the holiday, then with you. Will you accept?”

Jammy couldn’t believe what she had heard. It was like every dream she ever had was coming true in one fine day. The maid wanted to pinch herself to see if this were a dream, but there was a part of her that was so afraid of waking up if it were. And that fear made her hurt like she had never hurt before.

The other women then reached out and took her hands in theirs. Pfrymlona’s touch was rough and doting. While Frey’s was firm but soothing. The women pet the Miqo’te’s knuckles as she cried.

Finally, Jammy cast a shy glance up at the two women, after the tears ebbed and faded.

“Will you two call me Princess Jammy all weekend long?”

The other women giggled and offered a nod. Pfrymlona sank into a deep theatrical bow, while Frey pulled the girl’s hand up for a kiss across her knuckles.

“Our princess’ wish is our command,” both women said.

Jammy had never felt happier.

----

So this story is a commission written for my besty. Just a cute sweet tale of a happy trio. I hope you enjoyed reading this. And you can always support my writing at my ko-fi.

#writers #writers on patreon #writers on tumblr #writing commissions #commissions #ffxivwriting #miqo'te #viera #roegadyne #I love writing my besty's characters #ffxiv

7 notes · View notes

toadeyes-miqote · 8 months ago

Text

Miqo'te are and Miqo'te do

Would Hrothgals come and fantasia over you? Or wiggle your ears and tail, a Miqo’te stay? When you’re Gridanian, Archer and Adder There are more females, fuzzy memory this be based Same thing with MenMiq, some are post-EW interactions When this become a Jellicle song?

Looking back before Dawntrail hits. Is long with a mix of timeline, post-EW and NG+ pics. If you don’t see them, either I don’t have pics or hadn’t met/unlock them or forgot.

Event Miqo'te and the four/five(?) Miq'ttens are left out of this. Miq'tten would get their own piece for lols.

ARR

Most if not all the Miqo'te women are belong to ARR and are in Gridania and Limsa. Does Ul'Dah see them as being closer to beasts? What about Hrothgar?

A Realm Reborn

Leih Aliapoh was Hylnyan’s mentor and everything was Moon Miqo’te from here. There’s at least two more Miqo’te hanging around the guild. Her Archer quest is linked to Pawah Mujuuk of the Coeurlclaws

Miah Molkot, Took a bit of her lore for Hylnyan since they both from North Shrouds. Skirmishes with the birdmen and all. Do her quest line(Hostages of Fortune), she’s a birding cat like Hylnyan.

Do Delivery Moogle quest, The Past Is a Story We Never Tell is about the Lizeh sisters and Coeurl Claw women and the way they are treated. It triggers a Coeurl King fight (FATE not FATE?). I don’t have the Coeurlclaw women pics. Was still new and the notion of timelines diversion from Meteor (aka follow cinematic jobs) and duty trust addon accidental gaslighting hadn’t hit me yet.

Una Tayuun and here I was thinking we might have a quest to get her memories back. Cat distribution system is active in the Scions company(technically two males and three female excluding Miqo'te WoL ).

Forgotten spring Miqo’te women and their skirmishes with the Amalj’aa and tied into Amalj’aa tribal with Loonh Gar.

I remember J’moldva from the Blacksmith questline (her of the groovy red shades). And then to see her pop up with Arevnvald and V’mah Tia, it be like squee after how J Tribe were name dropping her the whole time Hylnyan was questing around Ala Ghiri. Totally fine with Hellfire Phoenix senpai being DPS trust in Skallac trust run as she has Ala Mhigan ties as well.

If its not obvious enough I adore Commander Rhiki for no reason other than her design. And that she’s a Triple Triad buddy

Heavensward

In another life Hylnyan could had been Renda-Rae. I kinda end up thinking that she could Jehantel’s shard since her early glory days of the hunt mark seeking and losing her team sounded like him.

It will always be funny that Widargelt’s three main disciples and one antagonist are Miqo’te. The cat distribution system favours this man.

Mujih Mewrilah, Botany quest journalist despawned while her Ivalice sister remained in Kugane. The Raven journalists do be wearing uniforms like Events Miqo'te Kipih Jakkya. All Saints' Wake 2024 edition.

Q'yantaa of Tailfeathers questline I did because Hylnyan was suppose to eventually go to Idyllshire with her mate to start a new life pre ARR. And treating Tailfeathers as a rest stop to learn about their surroundings and offer their skills is a thing they would do.

Zhloe and the Custom Delivery crew are all in Metian Gear until further notice

Stormblood

M’naago and the M tribe folks/related FATEs. Something about how Hylnyan’s footprint in the Ala Mhigo regions was rather small and that most Miqo’te tribes and resistance folks are more aware of her military involvement than her WoLness (much notes about Hylnyan’s area of influence being region based later). While common folks sees her as just another hunting Miqo’te.

J'olhmym, J'olhmym, J'olhmym. M'zhet thinks you're the one for him~~~ Of tribal quest. Vaguely recall J tribe in FATEs / side quests and there were various NPCs namedropping J’moldva in the Ala Ghiri region. That one questline in MSQ involving an Garlean mayor/captain(Baut) of Ala Ghiri

Shadowbringers

Qeshi-Rae aka Hylnyan’s “twin”(looks and personality) was already wearing this hairstyle before Claudien. Facet of Gathering was a post EW followup quest series for me.

It felt like there were more male Mystel roles in ShB and I’m very likely forgetting Crystarium staff and Kholusians somehow

I have not unlock Dancer

Endwalker

Very likely forgetting Sharlayan folks in Labyrinthos (sorry Hamlet and Ragnarok crew) for not standing out somehow. Non Miqo’te NPCs seems to ping my radar more this expac

Bonus

Fray when you’re a Miqo’te too.

The nameless young lady in Haurchefant’s office seems to be one of the rare Miqo’te in snowy place. Unless there are more and I can’t find them

What do you mean Alliance Grand Melee Adder isn’t Tyoh Moui?

Only doing Miqo'te since Hylnyan Miqo'te.

#stuff before Dawntrail hits #Miqo'te #Book 2 - A Realm Reborn #Book 3 - Heavensward #Book 4 - Stormblood #Book 5 - Shadowbringers #Book 6 - Endwalker #Post EW Follow up quests #Tribal Quests

7 notes · View notes

biff-adventurer · 4 months ago

Text

FFXIVWrite 2024 Prompt #18: Hackneyed

“I have no idea what you see in that ridiculous clown,” said a blonde Hyuran lady to her dark haired Miqo’te companion. “He chucks his little stick around the same way the Great Azuro does. I’m surprised they haven’t started calling him the Great Azuro II.”

“You’re so mean, Edea,” laughed the Seeker lady, waving her empty glass at Momodi. “The Stalwart Sapphire is an absolute hero in his own right. If only you were here last night! He kissed my hand, Edea!”

Sylveret Jantellot made a point of turning his gaze to the contents of his alecup. Hopefully, neither of the beautiful women would recognize him. It wasn’t his fault that both dragoons and blue mages had blue in common. It had been a simple coincidence. A happy accident. Serendipity, one might even call it.

“Oh, H’leenah,” sighed Edea, watching a hospitable Momodi pour her friend another glass. “You might just be a touch drunk whenever he shows up. Doesn’t he only come out at night? Hardly anyone is in their right mind in a pub by then.”

Pudada, who had been sitting beside Sylveret and happily chatting his ears off, tapped her own friend’s hand. “You look very troubled. Is there something on your mind? You know you can tell me anything, don’t you?”

The Elezen merely sighed and sank into his seat, deflated. “Unless you have a magic wand that can make entertainers less derivative, I’m afraid there’s nothing you can do, my lady.”

At this, Pudada’s ears wiggled. She glanced between the women at the bar and, clearly, by the light in her eyes, came to a revelation. “The Stalwart Sapphire is a class act! I’m sure he has other fans like you who are dedicated viewers.”

Sylveret worked very hard to resist the twitching of his eye, but it was all in vain. “You’re right, my lady. There’s no need to get worked up by… the opinions of beautiful women…”

#ffxivwrite2024 #ffxivwrite 2024 #gwenny writes #i'm almost disappointed that i didn't think to use the name e'lone instead but my bestie who loves viii popped into my mind first #ofc if i ever pull any real nice classical ff series characters next time i'll actually make sure they LOOK like them aslkdfjla;jfd #also i can't help making fun of syl b/c he and martyn are both white westerners spreading the blue gospel #maybe someday i'll create a character from the whalaqee tribe proper but until then my crime fighting clown is here to embarrass himself

2 notes · View notes

yzeltia · 1 year ago

Text

The Lost Year

Chapter 11: How Big How Blue How Beautiful Characters: Hien Rijin, Y'zel Tia, Cirina Mol Rating: T for Tia Notes: N/A

Humming echoed from the Hak Khaal as a crimson flow graced its waters. The cooler months were setting in on the Steppe and Y'zel sought to make himself useful to the Mol beyond hunting game. Weaving and dyeing coming naturally to him, he'd set himself up in the waters near The Wound to prepare the winter fabric for the tribe, carving the Spinner's symbol into the raised earth near the falls after ensuring it would be okay to do with Cirina.

Though a bit early, Y'zel sang a Starlight carol to himself, dressed only in a white yukata. A hint of homesickness, but any lingering thought was quickly shaken off. Even his intense feelings for Hien could not quite dull the pangs of loss. Not completely. "U'noloh…"

The Miqo'te's ears flicked as he closed his eyes, letting his departed love's name linger in his ears for the first time in a long time.

"What's all that sighing about?"

Y'zel swallowed, dropping to his knees in the cool waters, unsure if it were a memory or Echo coming over him.

"No need to pray, no need to speak…"

The Miqo'te touched his throat, shuddering as he felt a specter of a kiss.

"Your heart is the only place I call home."

Closing his eyes, Y'zel laid back in the shallow waters, trying to drown out the din of his departed lover's words. He let out a little gasp for air as he tried to catch his breath. Before he could calm himself, he found himself plucked from the waters, cradled in Hien's arms.

"Kami, please let it not be too late," the prince whispered to himself before shaking him, "Little Cat! Wake up! Where have you been wounded!?"

Y'zel pawed weakly at the other, fatigued from the Echo and feeding the prince's panic. Hien sloshed through the waters, stepping over the dyed fabrics that had stained his love. Collapsing on the bank, he laid the Miqo'te down and started to examine him for injury.

"Shun…," Y'zel hummed, reaching up to rest his palm on Hien's cheek, causing the man to freeze up, "it's dye."

The prince's face melted from worry, to anger, and finally into embarrassment. Quickly averting his gaze, he rolled off Y'zel. The Miqo'te rose, rolling off the sleeves of his wet yukata before leaning over to kiss Hien's cheek. "Thank you. Though unwounded, I was a victim of sorts to my gift," he said softly, wiggling his ears for emphasis.

"I see…It must be unpleasant to catch whispers of the past. There are many things I can think of off hand that would make my blood run cold should it grace my ears again."

"Not all is bad and there are those whose gifts are far more immersive than my own. It's not all bad though. There are wonderful things that can come to me. The voices of my parents. I never knew my mother, but I’ve been able to tune into things she said before I was born. It takes its toll though,” he sighed, leaning against the other.

“Clearly,” Hien said, arm draping over the Miqo’te’s shoulder, hesitating to continue, "Would it not be better to return home? There are people waiting for you. I imagine they need you more than I."

"So you admit you need me."

Hien flexed his arm, pinning Miqo'te in the crook of his elbow. "Of course that's your takeaway."

Y'zel squirmed, a weak smile on his face as he broke free. The attempt at light-heartedness only briefly prevented his quaking. He swallowed, trying and failing to prevent tears from forming. He shifted, pressing his hand against Hien's chestplate, as he hid his face against the man's scar. "There is naught left for me there but painful memories. What family I do have are all but strangers. I'd have nothing."

"But there's less for you here."

Hien flinched as Y'zel's claws scraped at the metal on his chest. The Miqo'te's face soon turned upward, tears streaming down it. "How could you say such a thing? You are here are you not? I know I am not Doman, among a myriad of other reasons that I am an unsuitable match…but, you pulled me back from the edge and have given me purpose again. Brought me back down to earth. The only thing I have now is you. For you to say less…to turn me away…When I…I…"

Hien silenced the growing panic with a soft kiss, large hand upon the Miqo'te's delicate cheek. He kissed him again and again until Y'zel ceased to shake. “To have me is also to have nothing. My Empire lives only in the hearts of its people. Should they wish to band once more I’d be their sword and shield. Doma is my first love. You deserve better than being second in someone’s heart. There’s so much more I wish I could give you, but I will fall far short…especially putting the impossible burden of making me your reason for being. You must live for yourself.”

Y’zel shook his head hard, leaning in as his ears folded back. “You are enough! As is. Head in the clouds, heart with Doma…me by your side. That is all I want…I would take up a bow or sword to fight for your dream. It is what I want for myself. Hien..I…I…”

“You love me,” Hien sighed, resting their foreheads together, brushing his hand over Y’zel’s ears, “Would it fall from my lips as easily.”

“And yet you’ve said it before,” the Miqo’te mumbled, not meeting the man’s gaze.

The prince pulled back, swallowing a bit as he let the faintest of red cross his cheek. He felt his denial sit at the tip of his tongue but his eyes fell on Y’zel’s ears. “That is not playing fair. If I intended you to hear…”

“You wouldn’t have said them aloud. The Echo is not omnipotence and when you’ve had a drink too many…and sometimes just coming into sleep, you stumble loudly and rouse me awake…You’ve long since confessed…”

Hien stiffened then went silent, looking at the stream as he gathered his thoughts. "I cannot give you what you want. Not entirely. Not what you deserve."

It beared repeating, as wounding as it seemed to be. The prince turned to Y'zel who hadn't seemed to falter with his look of conviction. Relenting to his feelings, he cupped the other's cheek in his palm and delivered a damning kiss. One that would consign Y'zel to a fate that he would all too happily bend to. Giving in, he pulled the other's robe loose and laid him out on the bank.

The Miqo'te flushed, almost closing his eyes as he looked up to Hien, face flushed and lower half long coaxed into his modest fullness. The prince lifted Y'zel's ankle, kissing the pale mound, hunter's eyes not leaving the nervous blue gaze. His lips ascended up his leg, his lover moaning out by the time he reached his inner thigh. “We will have to tell Cirina.”

Y'zel sat up on his elbows, panting hard as he looked to Hien between his legs. He swallowed, trying to guess at the other's meaning but came up short as to why this was pertinent to mention in this situation. “I think…there are things best left to her imagination.”

The prince rose, drawing his face in to steal a kiss. “If we are to be wed, I am sure there are some traditions that we'll need to observe. And- Y'zel! Ow! Please!”

The Miqo'te had suddenly grown tense in the wake of the revelation, but something else was amiss. Y'zel's ears were perked high and his nails dug into Hien's shoulder as his thighs viced around his waist leaving no room between them.

“That hurts! What has gotten into you,” Hien grunted, arching his back up as he tried to sit up on his knees.”

“Are you injured,” Cirina’s voice sounded from behind.

Hien jumped then held Y'zel firmly to his body, hand dropping to the base of the Miqo'te's tail so that the sleeve of his robe would cover his pale ass. A whine of embarrassment escaped his lover as the prince looked over his shoulder. “Just a bit of a scratch.”

“And Y'zel?”

“I fished him out of the river. He fell.”

The Auri girl looked on quietly then let her attention turn to the sky and then away from the two. “I see. Well, when you two are finished love making, I've prepared lunch and a blanket for us just over the hill.”

With that, Cirina left the two to their embarrassment. Y'zel flopped down onto his robes, freeing Hien from his claws as he hid his face in his palms. “That was not a proposal.”

“I’m afraid it was Little Cat.”

—

Y'zel stared into the open sky. The Mol had once more thrown together a small feast together with their fellow fringe tribes to join them. All of it had been a blur. It had all been fated. Or the Khatun had made it seem so.

“Y'zel…”

The Miqo'te blinked as he heard his name in Hien's voice. Having answered to Little Cat for so long, it was strange to hear his name so tenseeky spoken by his lover..now his husband.

“Sorry. I-”

Hien kissed him. He swallowed, leaning into the other, hand gripping lightly at the shoulder of his silk robes. Their friends hooted and cheered a moment until they parted. The prince beamed, hand raking over the other's ears before taking a shot of imported sake he'd gotten from Cirina. In the ebbing sunlight, Y'zel could not help but awe of his handsome profile. His strong fuzzy jaw. The scar upon his cheek. The thick muscle along his throat. All his to gaze upon for the rest of their days.

A purr escaped his throat as he wrapped his arms around Hien's elbow, face pressing into his shoulder. His ears folded as he felt the weightlessness of happiness spread through him. Then nostalgia. Sweet comfort from a time that was just beyond peripheral…and then…

“Starlight…”

Hien looked at him, brow raised before looking up into the sky. “Not for an hour, I think. Though the days have grown rather short.”

Y'zel shook his head, “No. Today…it must be Starlight. In Eorzea. A Holiday.”

“Oh. Then happy Starlight. Happy Starlight to all,” Hien drunkely yelled out, getting another cheer from the Xalea.

Y'zel laughed a little, scooting closer to his betrothed. Such mirth and warmth, from his love and new family. That he'd find such a thing malms and malms from Eorzea, he thought, was a true blessing from the Spinner.

#final fantasy xiv #ffxiv #final fantasy 14 #ff14 #ffxiv oc #ff xiv #ffxiv miqo'te #y'zel tia #hien rijin #hien x wol #the lost year #how big how blue how beautiful #starlight ffxiv #ffxiv starlight

7 notes · View notes

ecosystem-administrator · 1 year ago

Text

Contravention

Timeline: 6.3, Myths of the Realm spoilers Pairing: Aymeric/WoL/G'raha

Mayhem and G'raha have been fighting gods, and Aymeric finds out.

Aymeric had once thought himself reasonably well-versed in Miqo’te body language thanks to having Mayhem as a lover; but since they had invited G’raha into their relationship as well, he’d learned much more than he would have guessed there was to know. The two of them stayed in constant contact while they were relaxing, and seemed to communicate as much with gestures of ears and tail as they did with words.

Case in point, G’raha was currently resting on his stomach on Aymeric’s couch while Mayhem rubbed tension out of his back, and he could see how Mayhem responded to guidance from G’raha’s tail nudging them this way and that without needing to explain verbally what he wanted. That’s really very convenient, actually. “I thought all the strenuous work was behind you,” he said with some amusement, looking over the top of his book. “Has Krile really had you doing so much heavy lifting of books?”

Mayhem’s tail flicked in what seemed like almost an anxious gesture, but G’raha, perhaps less alert under the circumstances, answered easily. “Oh, no, it’s that blasted recording device. It’s an honor to be able to follow along, but carting that thing from Omphalos all the way through the Hea-” He was cut off by the tip of Mayhem’s tail flicking over his mouth, and the way his ears stood up and then drooped said that he’d realized the problem. “Oh…er…”

Unfortunately for them, Aymeric wasn’t a fool, and he’d spoken with them of the beginning of this adventure already. “Omphalos…wasn’t that the location you had visited before, that was tied to the Twelve in some way?”

“Yes, well…” G’raha had sat up and turned enough to meet Mayhem’s eyes, both of their ears wiggling back and forth nervously. “We, ah, did end up going back there, with a Sharlayan recording device…”

“A big heavy one the size of a backpack,” Mayhem agreed, turning their gaze to Aymeric instead. “For recording aetheric readings of…of…”

“In the Fury’s name, you two, I’m not a child,” Aymeric sighed, observing how both of them flinched at his invocation of the goddess. “Let me guess: you found something there about the Twelve that you didn’t expect, and now you’re afraid that whatever you learned would upset me, as one of Halone’s faithful.”

“Well… I mean, more or less,” Mayhem acknowledged, ears drooping in shame. “I know your faith is important to you. And even though I’m a follower of the Wanderer, I’ve never been especially devout myself, certainly not on the same level as the average Ishgardian.”

“We just didn’t quite know how you would take hearing…some of the things we saw,” G’raha agreed earnestly. “But if you’re sure you want to hear it…”

Aymeric paused, looking at the two of them contemplatively. He could understand the reticence, but it was a little dismaying to be so underestimated. “I doubt anything you can tell me will shake my faith more than the treachery of the Archbishop,” he answered after a moment. “What in the world did you encounter?”

“…After our first arrival, and forgive us for not bringing this up sooner, we did actually meet with four beings who claimed to be, respectively, Byregot, Rhalgr, Azeyma, and Nald’thal,” G’raha explained cautiously. “They claimed that they intended to take the world back from mankind, but this was apparently simply a ruse meant to draw us to challenge them in battle.”

“Which, naturally, I had no choice but to accept,” Mayhem agreed. “Afterward they apologized for lying to us and seemed overall quite reasonable about the whole business, except for the part where they refused to explain who they are or why it’s so important that we fight them. So we came back with that recorder G’raha mentioned, intending to explore the realms we’d been guided through.”

Both of them fell silent after that, waiting for Aymeric’s response, and he could see the anxiety lingering in the twitches of their ears and tails. There was something else they hadn’t told him, and from the shape of this story he was beginning to guess what it was. Drawing this out a little more should be an apt penance for hiding things from me. “And when you did return… might I hazard a guess that more of these entities greeted you?” Two sheepish nods. He kept his expression blank and neutral, and let the silence draw out a little longer before continuing, “Did you, in fact, meet the Fury and defeat her in combat?”

“I mean, she asked me to,” Mayhem answered hastily.

“And afterward she was quite well enough to converse and even travel,” G’raha agreed. “None of them appear to have taken any harm from these challenges.”

It’s actually so charming that they’re worried that would upset me. What greater show of respect could you offer a warrior goddess than sparring with Her? He let them linger for just a little longer in their nerves before slowly smiling. “I don’t suppose any of them have yet challenged you more than once?” he asked. “…It is rather a shame that I wasn’t able to join you.”

That had confused them, he saw with satisfaction, watching first Mayhem and then G’raha go from nonplussed to amused. Mayhem was the first to recover enough to speak, “Okay, okay, you got me. I never would have expected you to be that okay with it.”

“Quite a relief,” G’raha agreed. “But we really should have known you’d be sensible about the matter. I apologize for trying to conceal all this from you.”

Aymeric shrugged and shook his head. “Given the history of Ishgard as a whole, I can hardly fault your caution. Still, if there is any more you can tell me of this encounter, I should quite like to hear it.” He still wasn’t quite sure if he believed it was actually The Fury herself they had met, but then again, given what both of them had already done, it was hard to disbelieve any story they might bring him.

“Actually, yes,” Mayhem said. “After we’d answered their challenge, they asked us to travel to the marks of the Twelve across the realm, and accompanied us as…sort of miniature avatars. I was with the party that came to Coerthas, and I do think you’ll be interested to hear what we spoke of…”

#ffxiv #ffxivwrite2023 #g'raha tia #mayhem #aymeric de borel #myths of the realm spoilers #scion polycule hours

12 notes · View notes

universal-kitty · 1 year ago

Photo

@14dayswithyou :: “ #He'd probably even ask if they could do the g'raha tia ear wiggle kjfjggjdgkdgd “

I mean, all Ren has to do is ask...! He’ll immediately get a cute lil, Miqo’te styled ear wiggle! 💕

#14dwy #14 days with you #14dwy oc #Aki Does Art #Aki's Animations #I forgot the glasses and collar...#w/e I give up ksdfhgdjsk #I keep not editing this!!!!#letting it out into the wild like this!!! aaaAAAAA #[intended to be taken silly style]#and tags for reach cause I'm a madman

5 notes · View notes

purple-link · 4 months ago

Text

Alisaie and Purple Link

FFXIV Write 2024 Story Entry

Spoiler: Story takes place after WoL reaches Garlemald in Endwalker, but but before the Tower of Babil dungeon. Story will be largely sfw, but will adhere to FFXIV's level of mature storytelling.

Chapter 20: Duel

Imagine, if you will, a miqo’te, dark skin & vibrant purple hair, bouncy aesthetic.

Ready to take on the world, if he dared.

Far from the shores of Eorzea, this miqo’te was put on the path to self-reclamation.

Long were the hours that he practiced, through the exhausting ages of education he had to endure, the endless hours of teasing, until finally, he could produce a spark of aether.

A flame, pure and simple.

Not much to write home about.

All the other students were leagues ahead of him, but this still felt like a big achievement. Not that anyone but him paid it any attention.

There was something that was bugging him about this flame. Sure it felt real, and there was enough heat to boil a pot, but when everyone else was picking up and moving out, he felt stuck, staying at his parent’s and trying hard not to piss people off.

But there was one person he forgot about, and it was such a simple thing.

He would often stare at himself in the mirror, picking at his ears and looking at his sharp teeth. The days he spent being delighted over his form. His long fluffy tail would make him feel eons better, petting it and hearing himself purr.

…But there was a sense of eerie wistfulness keeping him from full satisfaction.

No matter how comfortable he felt in his skin, he couldn’t help but feel adding more fur would make the grade. He often left the house, feeling like something was missing, a feeling that he took with him to school and, beyond that, working out in the fields.

He never felt he was quite good enough at the things he was supposed to do. It wasn’t about perfection. He felt as if he had been holding the world back.

When he was occasionally questioned on it, he’d make up all kinds of excuses, some he thought were perfectly valid. But he knew that wasn’t true.

He knew perfectly well what he was capable of, he just couldn’t bring himself to believe it.

It was like something was buried deep inside him, and he was working like hells to dig it out, but all the little setbacks he encountered would get in the way.

Oftentimes, he’d try something new, just to stop short of any actual improvement and move onto another project.

He felt reserved, not bothering to follow up on connections because he just didn’t feel like it at times.

Not that he wouldn’t try. It took him a while to get on somebody’s vibe, and it was alright for an hour or two, but eventually, his attention would drift off, and he would wish he was somewhere else, doing something else.

He was often hard on himself. And it became increasingly clear he could never be satisfied.

All the irritation turned into hatred, and envy built up within him, until it came out in savage ways.

He picked at the hair on his skin, the furless hyur-like hair that gave him a wistful yearning.

If he were anywhere else in the world, he would often think to himself, he would be somewhere else, doing something that mattered, covered head-to-toe in fur, looking far more bestial than his appearance gave him credit for.

A real animal. Not just an idea of one.

But that feeling eventually went away, and his self-esteem would rise again. Living as a miqo’te was not as truly terrible. His ears wiggled joyously, and his tail was vibrantly purple and full.

He couldn’t be prouder of his lineage.

But there was always that yearning, and when he gazed at the moon, he felt a strong pull towards it, like an ocean tide. It was like his nameday deity, Menphina, called to him.

He wanted to be out there, living his life the way he wanted.

As the mages continued picking up their skills, there was one person he felt irritated by. He was the popular kid, one of the miqo’te that felt self-important, followed around by tons of his “friends.”

Purple Link yearned to be that strong, to have his own friends, to be loved and maybe not be so down on himself. When he was at home, doing the yardwork, working on his parents’ farm, he didn’t have time for others, nor did he want to spend it.

But he did feel like he wanted someone special, a friend who could understand him.

Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad?

Y'Margo, on the other hand, was already daring, was a viciously smart mage, and was beginning on his trip to be an adventurer in Eorzea. It was the dream of many who wanted to be a mage.

The world was in shambles, and with Garleans encroaching upon every territory, it was about time for their little town to be swallowed up into the conflict.

It was vital that you had to pick up a skill, to defend yourself.

Purple Link always liked the idea of being a mage. Producing fire out of nothing, using spells to kick some rear. Even healing was an appealing prosepct, and the more he practiced, the better he was at it.

But he was no exceptional student. It took him a long time, practicing with a small stave, no bigger than his palm. It felt like he was trying to get the juice out of a dried lemon.

In his twenties, finally, he was producing magic, but it was much later than how everyone else developed, and he couldn’t prove it to anyone. It was finicky, and he couldn’t keep it consistent.

Meanwhile, the pressure was on for him to move out, and he didn't have a solid enough skill to move into an industry. He felt like he deprived himself of a future, but to feel ashamed of a future he didn't have seemed meaningless.

It was like two voices, in his head, telling him to do one thing on one side and another on the other.

“One day,” said the hrothgar Purple Link, “I had enough of the teasing, and the provocation, and decided to show up for real. I thought I had a handle on my magic, but I had no idea what was going to happen.”

It was a week before Dalamud would fall. Suddenly, everybody started to fret. His family was thinking of moving out, but he stubbornly wanted to stay.

Y'Margo had challenged him to duel, and Purple Link, feeling his pride wounded, accepted.

This did not go over with his family well.

“You cannot give this bully what he wants,” said his father, “Pay attention to your own troubles, and the better off you'll be.”

“But I can’t ignore this!” said Purple, as if his life depended on it, “Y'Margo is about to leave town, and if I don’t give him a piece of my mind, soon, I may never get another chance!”

“Do you really think it’s wise to try to prove yourself?” asked his mother, “Is this really that important to you?”

“Mother, it’s only this,” said Purple Link, “If I can’t provide for myself, what will happen to me? I can’t just let the world roll over me!”

“With Dalamud right on our doorstep?” asked his mother, shaking her head, “That might not be an event you can avoid. If you can’t move on from this, you might not be able to avoid a disaster!”

Purple Link’s eye teared over.

“Is that how I'm supposed to think about myself?” said Purple Link, “I’m a disaster? I don’t have control over my own destiny?!”

“I think you’re letting this duel get a little out of hand,” said his father, “You might want to start thinking about letting it go.”

But Purple wouldn’t let it go. And eventually the day of the fight came.

Y'Margo stood at one end of the field, and Purple, the other. His little stave was shaking in his hands, but he knew he couldn’t let a lifetime of teasing just go without answer.

“The combatants will take position,” said a referee, “Feel free to start when ready. The match begins with first cast.”

Purple Link wasted no time. A fire attack smacked meagerly alongside Y'Margo’s side, as if it did no damage.

“Really now, a first class flame spell?” said Y'Margo, shaking his head, “After all the posturing you did? Is this really all that such a hackneyed mage can provide?”

Y'Margo easily let off a solid Thunder 1 spell, followed by a rotation of spells that saw Purple Link erupting into flame. Y'Margo let off a dance of spells that practically froze Purple Link in his tracks.

Purple Link tried to keep up, but every spell he landed felt like rain hitting uselessly against a windowpane.

When the dust cleared, Purple Link was eventually on one knee, looking up at Y'Margo with unchecked fury. He wanted to do away with the spells and practically stab the mage with his stave.

The fury boiled over into his aether, and when he tried for a Fire IV attack, something he’d been warned against by his educators, he found himself blown back.

When he came to, the building behind Y’Margo was lit on fire, and the mage himself was a crackling flame.

Y’Margo ran around in such a panic, that he had momentarily forgotten to cast Freeze on himself. Parts of his hometown were already on fire.

Purple Link was so stunned, he practically froze.

…Did he do that? Was that the power of fire-aspected aether? He’d almost killed another person, and the rest of the town was covered in flames.

What was all this to prove? That he could be depended on? That he knew how to defend himself?

If that were true, he wouldn’t have made such an impassioned insistence over whining about the duel, proclaiming how unfair it all felt.

But the power he put on display gave him everything he could learn about himself. He couldn’t apologize for this. Y’Margo would have to spend some time healing, before he could set out on his adventure.

They didn’t have a lot of time left. Dalamud caught them unawares.

Purple Link, after his failure in the duel, became suddenly so anxious, he procrastinated during his packing, causing them to labor behind the rest of the town.

But as they were about to set off, Purple Link felt a panic attack so strong, he had to run out into the farm.

What was he doing, he thought to himself, why was he here?

There were adventurers out in the battlefield, facing off against that wretched Garlean army, what did he have to worry about?

He could do nothing, little else to disturb the rotation of the planet.

Even so, he grabbed for the end of his tail and held it, in a futile attempt to calm himself down.

Nobody had talked to him since the duel. He agreed to it and performed so recklessly, he’d almost gotten everyone around him hurt. It earned him the ire of his neighbors, and his parents weren’t to thrilled with him.

He tried to explain it away, but the fact was, while nobody was seriously hurt, he was responsible for his own destruction.

His anger, his envy, and his volatile nature boiled over into a reckless move so dangerous, he nearly cost people their lives.

What can he do against something like Dalamud, he thought, the fury of the Garlean army, matters that were beyond his control, if he couldn’t even control himself?

Tired, hungry, and crying all the way back home, he suddenly realized everyone in the town had started to scream. There was panic in the streets, and people were running every which way.

The second moon was glowing a bright, angry red, and it looked like it would strike the planet’s surface at any moment.

Purple Link didn’t have time to lose. He got to the edge of the town, looking for his parents, watching for if they'd already fled. He didn't want to leave town alone.

As he looked, he spied another family, looking for one of their kits. A miqo’te child had gotten lost in the panic. Whatever instinct told him to flee, he felt more compelled to look for this child. He didn't want such a tragedy for this family.

Purple Link rushed over, trying to see if he could help. The family had lost one of their kits in the middle of the crowd. Asking to retrace their steps, he eventually wound up finding the kit, back in the family’s home and hiding in his room.

The kit was frightened, and looked at Purple with a fear that matched those outside. Purple realized it must have been because he watched his disastrous duel.

Purple Link shared his sympathy. He knew he wasn’t proud of his actions, and the hurt he caused others could never be made up. But he could at least try to do some good while he was here.

He stretched out a hand, carefully, wondering if the kid would even accompany him.

“Your parents are looking for you,” said Purple Link, unconvincingly, “They’re waiting for you. If we hurry, maybe we can catch up.”

The kit looked at his hand anxiously, but eventually the young lad warmed up to him and tentatively grabbed to hold it.

As the noise outside grew vicious, he looked up to see large sections of Dalamud falling off, some of them were heading directly towards his town.

He worried if his parents made it out of town yet.

Meeting at the edge of town, his neighbors were endlessly happy that their kit was alive. They showered him with gratitude and praise, making Purple Link feel like he accomplished something good for once.

He smiled, knowing that maybe he wasn’t going to be entirely useless in a crisis.

Sadly, this moment was short-lived. He hadn't realized until too late that his parents were still packing, waiting for him to finish, and they would be out the door.

At that moment, vicious strands of yellow energy beams emerged from the center of Dalamud.

He was too far away to see clearly what was at the center, but judging by the size, it appeared to be a huge dragon of some kind.

The yellow energy beams were heading towards his family’s house! In fear, he started to run for it, but hadn't made it a foot before realizing he could do nothing!

In the midst of a terrible explosion, he and the family were blown back. Purple Link, at an impulse, put himself in front of the family, and the child he just rescued.

“When I came to,” said Purple Link, the Hrothgar, “My back was burnt. The family I had protected survived. My parents, on the other hand, never lived to see another day.

“It had been five years, to the day, when we first met,” said Purple Link, tears in his eyes, “I’d been traveling around since that terrible day.

“To this day, I keep wondering to myself…

"‘Did I make Dalamud fall?’” said Purple Link, sadly, “‘Are my parents dead because this is all my fault…?’”

To be continued…

#ffxiv #furry #hrothgar #warrior of light #ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2024 #alisaie #lupin #wolves #miqote #miqo'te #dalamud

1 note · View note

pom-pom-party · 1 year ago

Text

“Help!” The door into the rising stones was opened in a flurry of movement; not a single knock or call of warning as the Miqo’te bust into the room full of vibrant motion and a panicked posture. His large ears swiveled to and fro in this state, eyes filled with tears as his paws brought him quickly inside.

Tracking mud and dirt all over the white carpets that laid over the marble of the rising stones, bean-prints left in a destructive wake in messy steps here and there as the cat-moogle struggled into the area with his arms full of…

Ducks.

Waterfowl. Birds. Feathers. One quacking loudly, with two more stuffed into his grip in a sad quiet that warranted the concern that peppered his young face. The pom of his tail wiggled this way and that as both Krile and Tataru stopped whatever conversation they were having to watch the destruction of the orderly clean of the abode.

Ji Ji’s own white and pink furs were sticky with what appeared to be tar or ink, but as he passed by the two Lalafellen women, their noses crinkled with the dense scent of oil and machinery.

“I found all these sky-songs and they’re all tainted by the ground waters!” His voice was genuine in his empathy to the animals; more than a few cuts and bruises on his skin to prove more than a little scuffle took place in order to rescue them from whatever situation they had been in only a short time prior. “Bubbles! Water! Help them!”

#Thread: Open #[[Read also that this idea is just too cute I love Ji ji]]#[[Any WoL or things is always open cause he's not a WoL himself!]]#[[He's also just super friendly]

0 notes

duelist-of-red · 1 year ago

Text

Voidtouched-blue--[Prior]

What was her name again? Cyra was embarrassed to admit that it had been near a year since she last directly spoke to the Elezen girl. A light flush on her cheeks was answer enough to her quiet contemplation as she watched the struggle to pull sword from wood and grain. She didn't have much to offer, but perhaps a hand was needed? "Need any help?" She called out sheepishly. The Red Mage had always had an intimidating effect on her. They had barely spoken, but the way she held herself was that of a warrior. Fearless, and it was rare for her to back down from a challenge. Cyra did not enjoy playing along with friendly competitions. She wanted to leave her athletic skills and feats in the past where they were actually needed.

The voice around the corner made every single part of her stiffen, caught with her hands wrapped tight around the stubborn handle of that wiggling blade, her foot pressed high and taut with effort, and in an instant she felt her ears begin to brighten with embarrassment as she looked over her shoulder to see the vaguely familiar Miqo’te who leaned around the corner to watch her very unlady-like grunts and swears. What was her name again? Cyna? No-

“Cyra! What are you uh, doing here?…” In an instant her posture changed in a quick brash of movement and the young woman cleared her throat as she turned to face the other as the curious cat approached, Alisaie’s eyes darting a bit before she continued. “I’ve got this” Totally “Don’t worry-“

It was with a lean against the handle of the blade that she waved a hand, almost reminiscence of her brother who often did very much the same thing when caught with a hand in the cookie jar. Neither of the twins enjoyed being put on the other foot it seemed.

But as even her full weight against the stubborn thing didn’t seem to loosen it any - and the way that the Miqo’te looked at her with furrowed, yet slightly amused, brows, the young mage finally relented with an audible groan of frustration, taking a step away from the stupid dumb training dummy and offered the other a somewhat quiet smile with her arms crossed with a hand against her cheek.

“Perhaps an extra tug wouldn’t be remiss?”

#Thread: Red Handed #[[I remember you]] (Cyra)

2 notes · View notes

headcanons-n-shit · 3 years ago

Note

The main Elezen boyz with a Miqo'te reader..??

Reacting to miqo behaviors like purring, ear wiggles, tail movement

>:3c my main is a miqo’te ive thought about this a shameful amount.

Estinien

He is absolutely fascinated.

You achieve such stillness when you are hunting, ears pointed forward, pupils blown wide, spear in your grip. Your tail moves so subtly to maintain your balance as you creep through the underbrush, completely silent on your feet.

The dragon raises its head from its meal, its gaze sweeping around the forest, and Estinien’s breath catches in his chest as it slides right over you. You don’t even stop moving, ilm by ilm getting closer to your prey, and it doesn’t even notice you. Not even when you stop at the very edge of the treeline, and at this distance he can only see the way you crouch in preparation of a leap, your tail finally going still, the triumphant smirk across your face.

And yet. You, little couerl, little apex hunter, let him wash the blood out of your fur at the day’s end. Sat between his legs, eyes scrunched closed, ears flicking joyfully as you purr and he combs the mats out of your tail-- killing dragons is a messy business, no matter how good you get at it. Little couerl, little apex hunter, so docile and sweet under his hands. He rubs at one of your ears just to hear your purr rise in intensity as you try to turn your face into his palm.

You are fascinating.

Aymeric

He wonders if even you know that your ears twitch when you’re annoyed.

He also wonders if the nobleman across the table understands just how close he is to being drowned on dry land.

You’re trying your best, you really are, sitting up straight, hands folded in your lap, with a face of polite disinterest, but Aymeric can see the little signs that your patience is reaching its end. Your ears twitch. The tip of your tail swishes back and forth. From your side, he can feel the low rumble, the start and stop of a growl that you’re doing your level best to keep under control as the nobleman just. keeps. talking.

Aymeric shifts very slightly. Just enough to run the tip of his shoe up your calf.

“Perhaps--” he says when the nobleman finally pauses to take a breath-- and, well, would you look at that, conveniently loud enough to cover your surprised mrrp!. “-- it is about time we adjourned for a break. Honorable and disciplined as our guests are today, some of us are accustomed to a less... sedentary lifestyle, and will focus better with a moment to stretch our legs.”

You narrow your eyes at him in a sharp glare, but your tail gives you away, slashing through the air in wide, excited arcs. He only smirks down at you.

He never said just how long the meeting was to adjourn for. The two of you have time, and he is quite eager to see how you vent your excess energy.

Haurchefant

He finds out about the purring thing completely on accident.

He knows about how expressive your ears and tail are, of course. How your ears wiggle in joy, how your tail lashes back and force in anger. When your tail curls around your hip and your ears press into your hair, oh, how he wants nothing more than to put his hands on you and soothe you.

The chance finally comes late in the night, just the two of you in his office, as you spill all your stress and fear about the war coming down around you. You look so small, curled in on yourself, and he just can’t help himself. His fingers dig gently at the base of your ear and, oh, wow, your fur is so much softer than he ever imagined it would be. You look up at him, confused, but he only strokes his fingertips gently up your ear, base to tip, and then back down against the grain of your fur, and your eyes fall closed and--

The purr starts deep in your chest, rusty with disuse, and Haurchefant lets out a near-inaudible gasp. His other hand comes up to your other ear, an assault on two fronts, and for the first time in a long time you let yourself relax, leaning your weight into his chest and trusting him to hold you up. He loves the sound of your purr. He never wants to hear you make any other sound.

BONUS

Ysayle

If you are wondering why the ice-faced elezen is staring at you with such intensity, it’s because you are, without question, the cutest thing she has ever seen. Those ears, that tail! How expressive, how adorable!

But its your growl that really endears you to her. It is a horrible, terrifying sound, but at this point Ysayle is well and used to horrible, terrible things. A growl, rumbling up from the depths of your chest as your eyes flash and your hands reach for your weapons? Is a comfort. A creature that wants to kill you doesn’t growl. A growl is a warning. A courtesy.

It’s your growl that makes her believe in you. You, who would give warning to an enemy you could have just as easily cut down before they had the chance to notice you. You must be honorable. You must be kind.

And perhaps, she thinks as she watches the tip of your tail twitch back and forth and her fingers itch to catch it, you may be exactly what she is looking for.

#ff14 #ff14 headcanons #estinien varlineau #estinien wyrmblood #aymeric de borel #haurchefant de fortemps #ysayle dangoulain #wol x ysayle #wolstinien #wolmeric #haurchewol

211 notes · View notes