#my heart goes out to poor Urianger

[juweldom]

Ch. 38: Spy vs. Spy

The Heart of the Song - Chapter 38 - Juwelz - Final Fantasy XIV [Archive of Our Own]

Summary:

It's a dangerous world of trying to infiltrate, investigate, and intervene in the plots of the Ascians and the Warriors of Darkness. Especially when love is on the line.

(Takes place post-Heavensward 3.4 from "Promises Kept" through "Beneath a Star Filled Sky.")

Notes: We're finally here, at the heart of the original pairing! Poor Urianger--I definitely see him as neuro-divergent and possibly demisexual as well. And for someone who finds emotions a confusing foreign language, I can only imagine how difficult it must have been for him, dealing with the highly emotional Arbert!

[dezemberzwolf]

Ff14 for 3 and 5, and zenos with 6 and 8

fandom ask meme!! ask me.... memes >:3

thamk u ilu....

3. which scene I would like to erase from the universe and why.

it technically was erased from the universe via retcon but every time someone mentions to me about the original moenbryda minion desc. that implied urianger was creepy towards her it makes me want to bite the writer again. also yknow what?? the lancer quest where foulques dies. my boy deserves to live so many other random ass shitty npcs get to live. like ok foulques was a dick but like he was a dick because every he knows decided to be racist at him and he HAD a POINT. like maybe some people deserved a stabbing. and yet 'known canon rapist npc ungust' gets to live? im sure theres 800 other things ill think of later bc its not as if the game is free of weird narrative choices, but ill be real. most of the time theres something where im like "this shouldnt Exist" i just vaporize and rewrite it in my mind LMAO. hear me out about werlyt

5. the scene from it that lives in my head rent free.

everything urianger has ever said in his entire life and also 90% of shadowbringers. its really good. for no particular character reason i think a whole lot about when you and the scions go to storm eulmore and u walk in on vauthry and ryne immediately screams 'no, make him stop' bc hes eating a pile of meol and i know. i know. in my heart. that if it wasnt gonna be too heavy gore and a bunch of graphics, the story intended that to be read as him ripping into and eating that lion sin eater that always sat in that exact spot. i know in my heart they ran in on him mid transformation eating a lion raw with his hands. i know this. shadowbringers is normal and fine for everyone involved.

also yknow in endwalker after [6.0 SPOILERS BEGIN] meteion reveals thancred is dead, urianger speaks and she immediately turns to him and goes 'youre full of loathing and dont even know why you still exist here'. that fucks me up every day. do you know how much has to happen for urianger, whose entire motivations this entire time is that he loves people so so much, to Actively Loathe you. to Hate a scared child. and he hates her because she killed thancred. and he doesnt know why its never him who gets to be the one sacrificed. im fine thats fine [END 6.0 SPOILERS]

6. the scene that I think shows just how awesome they really are.

The final fight with him here he speaks to the wol "not as a hero, but as an adventurer", and asks if your journey was a blessing or a curse. I like zenos because he is very much an exact foil for Laurel and that scene just shows that. hes aware of how close they are, and he cares.. he wants to know if someone 'like him', as the wol is, ever actually had a chance to live a life that could be enjoyable. he's trying to connect this entire time the only way he can understand you... i get if people dislike zenos. tbh im like, zenos agnostic outside of the context of him and the wol LOL but. i think at the end hes able to show that he really truly did connect with the wol. he managed to make a bond and some kind of understanding.

at least, with a wol like laurel.... with my other WoLs its like "YOU DONT GET SHIT GO AWAY!!!!!!" poor zenos. anyways him calling you an adventurer instead of a hero at the very end is neat. he cares about you he wants to understand very badly. he loves laurel hes her princess ok in this zenoswol laurel essay i will,

8. a headcanon I have about this character.

theres so much horny zenos fanart and i respect this i understand where it comes from but im also like. this man does not practically know what sex is and cannot flirt. he has only the hunt. if he fucks he does it almost by accident and it started as a fistfight or he has to be instructed into it. he has never seen pussy before. the wols gotta give him a diagram bc he understands concept but not execution. hes got other priorities.

also in In From The Cold when he possesses the wol the actual first thing he does is fall flat on his face because the center of gravity is way too different and hes not used to walking. and laurel specifically is lightly digitigrade and trekking around the snow in stiletto heels zenos gets into her body stand dramatically and then immediately eats shit because what the fuck how are you standing up like this.

[jenovahh]

Comm 17 - A Little Help - NSFW

Rating: NC-17/Explicit Tags: Threesome (MxMxM), Anal Sex, Accidental Voyeurism, Blowjobs, Heat Fic

Commission Request: WoL is going into heat and Estinien has always been their partner. Not wanting make things awkward with G’raha who they have burgeoning feelings for, the WoL seeks Estinien out once more. G’raha notices the WoLs absence, and decides to seek them out... ====================================================

There’s no mistaking the sounds he hears from down the hallway.

G’raha Tia knows his face is as red as his hair, no longer tipped with silver mind you. 

The moans and sighs are unmistakable, familiar, and the sounds are so lewd he can feel his breeches already begin to feel a little too tight. His ears flick forward before flicking back in embarrassment, flicking forward once more as if he can’t help himself as he creeps steadily forward down the seemingly unending hallway.

The Rising Stones is empty, Tataru seeing to other business as she communicates with Krile who still lies in Sharlayan. Y’shtola and Urianger having mended their camaraderie have gone to research what the council could possibly be up to, most likely preparing to endure another late night up to their ears in tomes. The twins had busied themselves elsewhere, possibly still processing their father’s rejection. Thancred had gone out to attend to other matters, leaving with nothing but a wave and a smile.

Though he has always admired the Warrior of Light, even G’raha could not deny that he has not only spent time with A'von to be with his inspiration, his shining light...that he wanted more. While yes he knew his abilities could help their adventures, his reasons for joining A’von on his adventures were not so noble.

Even he could be selfish.

He knows not when these feelings of simple admiration and idolatry shifted into something more personal, pushing him to spend every bell of every day with A’von until they parted ways for the evening, each withdrawing to their own rooms. Part of him could not help but feel a little anxious for burdening the Warrior of Light with his presence every day, but could anyone blame him? 

He loved every second he got to spend with his inspiration, to see those pale, blue eyes crinkle and pouty lips smile at him as their tails swayed behind them as they trekked across Eorzea. On more than one occasion had G’raha felt A'von's own tail brush against his own, the fluffy mass unmistakably curling around his own for barely a second before withdrawing so fast G’raha thought he might’ve imagined it. 

He could barely sleep from thinking about it so much.

Try as he might, there was no running away from his burgeoning feelings for A’von, which was what left him feeling so bereft when he awoke to another day of the Warrior of Light mysteriously keeping his distance. It had been going on for barely a week now, A’von having started to nervously avoid him, until he became a ghost altogether. The only way G’raha knew he was relatively okay was from how he could distantly hear A'von's door close late at night when everyone had long since turned in.

Tonight was to be the same he thought, only G’raha had been arriving back to his room fairly late himself. He had nowhere else to go really, given his body had been slumbering on this world for the past few years, leaving him with nowhere else to stay save the Rising Stones. He had spent another night talking off poor Rambroes’ ear, sharing more tales of the future and the First and all he had seen. Passing on secrets of the Crystal Tower and its capability until he gave one good yawn and Rambroes sent him home just like old times.

It was quiet, whatever remaining Scions having long since gone home for the evening, meaning it was quieter than usual. It’s what led him to hearing moans and sighs from the end of the hall as he prepared to go to bed. He had been a little embarrassed of course, thinking that perhaps one of the other Scions needed release, and were thinking themselves quiet to races with average hearing. But one moan in particular let him know just which Scion was currently being pounded into the mattress.

He couldn’t help himself, cat-like stealth helping him sneak down the hall, toward the door that was cracked just enough that a sliver of light peeked out into the corridor. Just as the sounds got louder, so did the air, a familiar and long forgotten scent tickling G’raha’s nose and making him hard as rock in his trousers with each step he drew nearer. It was subconscious how his hand moved to grip himself through his clothes, not feeling such hunger since...he was in this body, strangely enough. Desire was the last thing on his mind when bearing the mantle of the Crystal Exarch.

“You like a good tussle as much as the rest...don’t deny it…” a man gruffly rumbles, the barely perceptible squeaking of the mattress finally making its way to his ears. Reaching the door, it's ajar just enough for his red eyes to peek in, barely able to contain his gasp at what he sees.

A'von is there, naked and sweaty and willing, his back to Estinien’s chest. Without meaning to G'raha eyes jump down A'von's bare torso to his cock, red, swollen, and leaking precum all over the place as it bounces lewdly with each thrust of Estinien’s hips. A'von's usually light eyes are darkened with lust, his trimmed claws biting into Estinien’s arm where the Elezen man has it wrapped possessively across his chest. Estinien’s other hand grips A'von's hip with bruising force, holding him in place as he controls the pace of his thrusting, leaving A’von no option but to sit there and take it.

He had been as in awe of the Azure Dragoon as anyone had the right to be, he thinks, despite the Elezen’s more standoffish demeanor. Having been the “new hire” himself, G’raha had taken to try and form a partnership of sort of being the two newest members, to which Estinien begrudgingly accepted. G’raha knew he didn’t genuinely dislike him as a person, but was more used to being alone, as was his wont.

G’raha had heard (or rather read) plenty about the prickly dragoon, noticing that he became more present as A’von had become more absent. Estinien had informed everyone he would be using this waiting time to take care of a few loose ends until it was time to depart, showing up surprisingly early as A’von had begun to make himself scarce. The seeds of jealousy tried to take root in G’raha’s heart, but he quickly quashed such thoughts. He was man enough to acknowledge that others had grown close to A'von in his absence; it was not fair to keep him to himself.

“You’re so beautiful like this, you know,” Estinien whispers, pressing thin lips to A'von's neck, tongue licking a stripe up to his jawline. “All hot and needy for me…” He growls, accentuating his words with a hard thrust, the sound of skin against skin making G’raha grip his dick tighter, needing some kind of relief as he played the hidden voyeur. He should step away, should turn around and go back to his own room, but he couldn’t tear his eyes from the sight before him.

“S-Stop saying such things,” A’von moans, grunting as Estinien’s fingers snake their way up to slip into his mouth, pink tongue darting out to lick them, drawing him into his waiting mouth. Estinien rumbles in approval, rewarding the Miqo’te by increasing the pace he fucks him. “Gods,”

“Halone couldn’t save you now...though you wouldn’t want that, now would you?” Estinien chuckles, making sure to fuck the Warrior of Light nice and deep. “No...it is your new friend you wish were in my place.”

“That’s not true!” A’von nearly wails, face flushing a deeper red from embarrassment.

A new...friend?

“Oh yes...it is not blue eyes you want to see. Go on and tell me more of how you wish for the heir of Allag to ravish you for all to see.” Estinien continues to tease.

“Estinien, be quiet,” A’von protests, even as his own hand goes to circle around his own cock in a silent plea for more. He handles himself expertly, eyes dazed as he tries to desperately thrust in his hand at the same time Estinien plows into him from behind.

G’raha is pretty sure he’s stopped breathing.

“I’m sure he would be more than amicable to your request…” Estinien hums, pushing down on A'von's back to press him into the mattress. G’raha watches toned muscle flex in Estinien’s arm as A’von’s tail curls around it affectionately despite the force Estinien exerts fucking him from behind. 

G’raha’s mouth is dry as the desert as he watches A'von's lust drunk face, holding back a groan at hearing the Warrior’s wanton sighs. He looks back to Estinien--

...to find the dragoon staring right back.

G’raha freezes, preparing to turn tail and run but the dragoon shakes his head, smirking all the while as he turns his gaze back to A’von. “Go on and tell me, A’von. Tell me how you came to me because you couldn’t face your feelings for your G’raha Tia.”

“Gods,” A’von moans, eyes rolling back in his head.

“You want him don’t you? Too embarrassed to have him see the infallible, unshakable Warrior of Light, his light and inspiration...reduced to a moaning mess.” Estinien continues, not having stopped his thrusting for one moment.

“Gods yes,” A’von moans, a smile curling his lips at the thought.

“Well, you heard him.” Estinien calls, raising his voice to clearly indicate he is speaking to G’raha. He feels himself freeze even more, stiff as a board as Estinien ceases the motion of his hips, giving the Warrior of Light just enough time for his thoughts to clear. G’raha watches as if he’s having an out of body experience as A’von turns in question to Estinien before following his line of sight to the door where he stands, unmoving.

A’von and he simply stare at one another blankly for a moment, before A'von's ears pin back against his head, hands covering his face in shame. “Raha!” he calls, and at the sound of his name without the prefix, so many of his fears scatter like petals on the wind. “By the gods, I hadn’t meant-- I mean,”

“Will you just ask him if he wants to join or sod off?” Estinien interrupts rudely, prompting A'von to reach back and smack him.

“Be quiet,”

“Von?” G’raha calls, stepping into the room. He pushes the door open to allow himself entry, closing it gently behind him, ensuring that it is shut. “Did you really…?”

Blushing again, A’von buries his face into the sheets in embarrassment, prompting an exasperated sigh from Estinien. “The bloody fool was too enamored with you to bother asking whether or not you wanted to help with his heat.” The Elezen grumbles with a roll of his eyes. “Something about not wanting to bother you, that you’ve just returned to this world and shouldn’t worry about such things.” He mocks, going as far to impersonate A'von's voice.

“Must you?” The Miqo’te whines, looking as if he would love nothing more than to disappear.

Estinien playfully gives him a smack on the ass, enjoying the man’s undignified yelp. “I must.”

Swallowing, G’raha carefully reaches for the clasps keeping his gear in place, praying he isn’t presuming over much. He and A’von make eye contact, everything and nothing passing between them for a moment. Despite their compromising position, G’raha notices A'von still has the gall to look ashamed, and it’s then he knows he must say something. “I...want this as much as you. If your words hold true.” He murmurs, unsure of his own voice.

A'von's large ears slowly perk up, blue eyes locked on him as if he wanted nothing else. “I...I hadn’t wanted to impose. I presumed that you didn’t want,”

“Of course I want,” G’raha groans, nearly falling to his knees to the side of the bed, reaching to kiss A’von who returns it just as eagerly, the two men groaning into one another’s mouths. G’raha caresses his face gently, always, always wanting, his heart doing little flips in his chest that the gods have seen fit to grant him so many of his wishes. 

G’raha feels A'von groan into the kiss, his eyes trailing to where he notices Estinien begins to slowly thrust again. This close G’raha can feel the effect of A'von's heat, his own breath coming fast as he stares into A'von's eyes, thumb trailing across the scar he knows his friend so adamantly hides. He can feel how he tenses beneath his touch, and so he moves to press his lips comfortingly to the scar, kissing every ilm as Estinien begins to one again build their pleasure.

“This is...okay?” A’von whines, claws ripping into the sheets as Estinien begins to pound even harder.

“More than okay.” G’raha groans, using this time to begin undressing as best he can from this position. His medallions clink together as his top falls to the floor, his hands nimbly picking out his hair pins and placing them with his top. “Though it has been some time, if memory serves, it may take two of us to satisfy a heat.” 

Hunger fills A'von's eyes at that, following him as he stands to remove his trousers. G’raha can’t help but flush red at how A'von's lips part and his tongue swipes across them, gazing up at him hungrily before eyeing the outline of his cock in his underwear. Even as Estinien continues to thrust, A’von reaches out and grabs him by the thigh, urging him closer to where he can pull down his small clothes, letting his cock spring free.

G’raha can’t help but groan as he watches that tongue swipe over pointed fangs once again, A’von turning his body as best he can to get a proper grip on his cock and pull the tip to his mouth. A’von eagerly begins to lick at his length despite the dragoon’s thrusts, eyes gazing up at him wantonly that does none of his wildest fantasies any justice.

His mouth feels exquisite, tongue warm and wet, swirling around the tip as he eventually gives up and climbs on the bed, turning himself to kneel directly in front of his companion. A’von groans thankfully as he fully dedicates himself to his task, bobbing his head up and down his length all while Estinien holds him by the hips and rams into him from behind. Each thrusts forces a groan from his throat, the vibrations travelling up his length, sending pleasure racing through what feels like every nerve in his body.

“Wicked white,” G’raha curses, having not let go of the phrase as A’von greedily laps at him, thrusting his hips back against Estinien whose groans have gotten more frantic, his pace more wild as he furiously pounds into the Warrior of Light. They grunt and groan together, G’raha committing the sight to memory as A’von calls Estinien’s name as he comes, pulling off his length to moan his release into his lap as Estinein too meets his end.

Estinien groans as he comes, head resting against his A’von’s back as he gives those last few thrusts to ride out his orgasm. G’raha watches as the two of  them catch their breath, A’von giving him a soft smile as he pushes himself up to bring G’raha down to him for a kiss. G’raha reciprocates immediately, their tongues dancing together even as Estinien withdraws, allowing for A'von to press forth unsuspectingly. G’raha scrambles to get his legs from under him as A’von straddles him, eyes devious as he holds his hand behind him expectantly. Estinien silently hands him the oil, G’raha watching hypnotized as he pours a generous amount in his hand before putting the bottle down once more.

G’raha can’t help but raise his hips as his lover’s hand wraps around his cock once again, the oil lubing him up easily. He can barely keep his eyes open, the pleasure is so overwhelming, looking through hazy eyes at how calloused hands rub him up and down. 

Having recovered, Estinien grabs the vial of oil, pouring what remains over two fingers before chucking it elsewhere in the room. Coming up behind A'von he slips two fingers into his sheathe, A’von purring, eyes hooded as he still keeps his focus on G’raha. “Good, you’re still ready. You ready to take him?” Estinien murmurs into A’von’s ear, taking one between his teeth and nibbling.

A’von nods slowly, finally releasing his cock as Estinien pulls his fingers from his puckered entrance.

Slowly, A’von leans forward, resting rough hands upon the smooth planes of G’raha’s chest, eyes not leaving one another as A’von reaches below to take hold of G’raha cock and line it up. Sinking slowly, the two Miqo’te moan as one as A'von slowly sinks down, G'raha hands coming to knead the flesh of A'von's thighs as he takes ilm by precious ilm. Even if he’s still stretched from Estinien’s own pounding, A’von savors each bit until they are flush against each other, his cock still hard and leaking pre cum as is warranted by a Miqo’te heat even after an orgasm.

A’von leans down to kiss him, his heart feeling ready to burst as A'von raises his hips to bring them back down. Groaning into one another’s mouths, G’raha feels robbed of breath as A’von nibbles playfully on his bottom lip, earning a surprised whimper from him at the action. Smirking, he watches as A’von sits back up, riding him earnestly, eyes on him. “Let me...make these past few days...up to you…”

A’von rides him like a man possessed, panting and mewling as he bounces on his cock. As if the sight alone wasn’t erotic enough, Estinien comes to claim A’von’s lips, the Miqo’te’s hand wrapping around his cock and pumping furiously as he prepares to meet his end once again. “The both of you,” A’von groans against Estinien’s lips, and G’raha knows he won’t last much longer either. “I’m going to,”

A’von comes, crying out as his seed spurts everywhere, but G’raha can’t be bothered to care as he finally releases, feeling his orgasm soar through him with blinding speed. His toes curl as he feels his seed spurt inside of his love, eyes fluttering closed as he gives a few more thrusts to ride out his orgasm.

It is his turn to catch his breath, finally opening his eyes just in time to catch A'von as he seems to collapse atop him. “Von?” he panics, until Estinien stills him with a hand.

“He’s fine. Just worn out.” He huffs, standing from the bed to cross over to a nearby basin. “You and I both know he could use the rest. Especially since he’ll pounce on us soon as he wakes.” 

Nodding, G’raha shifts A'von to be a bit more comfortable, scooting over to make a little more room for all three of them to fit. Given that they’re in Estinien’s room, he doubts anyone save Alphinaud or Tataru would dare pay a visit, and so he dubs it safe enough to rest his eyes, and join A'von in the world of dreams.

[whitherliliesbloom]

reflections in crystal

[ ffxivwrite2020 ] ★ [ masterlist ] ★ [ prompt #30 - splinter ]

[ wol and her found family ]  ★ [ 1,654 words ]  ★ [ post-5.3 ]

all of the shb scions except urianger (sorry urianger i just can’t deal with the way you speak aaaaaa). mentions of ryne, krile and tataru too. 

we may forget ourselves, but we’re ever riding home. and for now and evermore, we will never lose hope.

“I do hope you have a good explanation for dragging all of us out here.” With crossed arms, Y’shtola frowns at the miqo’te as he beckons towards his fellow scions and ushers them out the stairwell and onto the balcony, tail flicking in anticipation.

“It will be worth your while, I promise!” He lets out a boyish grin, the very picture of innocent glee that Y’shtola saw fit not to argue against and merely shrugs. G’raha closes the door behind the party, before moving to the stone railing and gesturing to his lalafellin companion.

“Here, here! A front row seat for our hero of the hour!”

The champion and hero in question flushes, a hue of pink rising up to dust her cheeks and the tips of her ears as she hides her bespangled violet eyes beneath the shadow of pure white bangs. 

“P-please! N-None of that! This isn’t about me right now!” 

But her piss poor attempt to hide her emotions are fruitless - in front of the ones she has spent what feels to be her entire eventful life with, and the lalafellin’s embarrassed state has evidently given the others some amount of amusement, from Alphinaud’s stifled laughter to Alisaie’s smirk - though the latter was quickly wiped away as the feistier of the twins turns her attention to the vista before them. 

“Well whatever it is he dragged us here for, I don’t really mind.” Alisaie’s amiable mood seems to catch the man in question off guard, who widens his eyes at the awestruck expression upon her face. “At least the view’s pretty.”

Pretty would be a sore understatement, really... and there wasn’t a single scion who would think to disagree.

Together, their eyes raised heavensward, where a tower of crystal stood amongst the stars and the full moon in all its radiant glory. 

For a moment there was silence as the scions lined themselves up to look upon that beacon of light - and from within the intense lapis glow of the crystal’s shine they saw glimmers of the past; a past that felt both so distant away, yet vivid in their minds all the same. 

It almost felt like a dream - their adventures in the First, and though they had all just barely recovered from their taxing soul transfer, the scions felt a burst of renewed energy as they reflected upon those memories while their eyes are so nearly blinded by the everlasting light of the crystal tower.

Illya sits herself upon the railing, and from her sling bag she fishes out a jar of oddly familiar cookies, holding them out to Thancred with a smile upon her face. 

“Coffee biscuits baked by Ryne! She said it may taste a little different from the one you’re used to, though. She wanted us to enjoy some while we gathered tonight.” With a raised eyebrow, the man in white takes the jar, eyeing the unevenly browned biscuits through the glass with suspicion, though it wasn’t exactly the biscuits questionable appearance that caused him reservation. 

“Gathered tonight you say? Is this some kind of special occasion?” Thancred asks, and frowns when the lalafell merely shrugs her shoulders, eyes glistening with a well-rehearsed faked expression of ignorance. “So I take that you know what G’raha’s up to.”

She peers up to glance at the miqo’te man beside her who stares down at her in return, and after a moment of contemplative silence, their lips turn upwards into a cheeky grin that causes Thancred’s eyes to almost roll out of his own skull.

“Aha- speaking of what I’m up to.” Vivid red eyes light up at the sight of a distant gleam, and with a raised finger he confidently points up to the shimmering sky. “I believe it’s just begun!”

Upon the darkened night sky, they begin to witness a spectacular shower of lights, falling from the heavens before splaying apart. Like the descent of cosmos, they paint streaks of gold glitters across the backdrop of the cloudless darkness, forming an array of fleeting constellations.  Luminous sheets of blue and purple auroras rise, and their combined radiance fills the hearts of the scions with a veneration and awe that they could not find words to describe. And amidst the astral plane, the crystal tower is right at home, its light shining ever brighter as if taking in the prayers of the hopes and dreams that had been wished upon the falling stars. 

Reflected in their eyes, they momentarily saw fire and ash, and they could almost hear whispers of the past and voices muffled by water. 

It was a star shower not unlike the one they’d witnessed in the First, one that was understandably a sore point of memory for most of the scions present.

“You took us all here.. to see a star shower? After everything that happened?” Thancred asks, tilting his head inquistively, though his eyes never once leaves the spectacle in the sky. 

“I thought it fitting.” With a serene smile, one of an ease that he has not known for the past hundred years, G’raha murmurs, and he takes in a deep breath to calm his hummingbird heart. “So that we’ll remember what we once were.” 

Termination was no pretty sight, and it filled him with no more trepidation than any of the other scions. The sight before them was one of a memory of pain, a reflection of world’s end, and what could have been crippling failure.

But the illusion of no tomorrow was broken, as did the shackles that had kept him prisoner of his own duty. And his heart soars a hundredfold as he closes his eyes for but a moment, and recalls the way he and the Warrior of Darkness fought and cried out against fate with one voice until the very end - until the arrival of another clear blue sky.

And from within crystal, he can finally look back on his reflection with a fondness in his heart, and watch the shower of stars as a symbol of future’s arrival - a future that will ever keep coming so long as they held on to hope. 

“Emet-Selch had once said that we were incomplete - that our souls, sundered and broken as they are, hold no worth in the world.” Alphinaud reflects, leaning forward and resting his arms against the railing with a smile. He lifts a gloved hand, drawing invisible lines across the sky as if connecting the fading trails left behind by the stars. 

“But he forgot that our worth laid not in the weight of our souls, but of the legacy we leave behind. Our souls may splinter and fray.. but they will never truly disappear as long as we fight to live. And through that, the light of a thousand fractured stars is still enough to birth a sun.” 

Like scattered moon dust, the stars continued to hang in the air proudly, and they will ever continue to do so like jewels of the night sky until morning light comes to greet a new day. Their reflection slowly fades into the dark as the falling stars slow and vanish - but as the light of their souls persists, so too will their memories live on, waiting to be relived another day in their dreams.

And upon a mountain of pained memories, there laid a hope for a brighter tomorrow that has not yet died. If even the end of days was not enough to extinguish their light, then what could?

“Ugh.. there he goes again being all pretentious and poetic.” Alisaie groans, folding her arms across her chest as her brother shrugs. “Besides.. isn’t that not fitting at all.. given the Warrior of Darkness and everything..”

“T’was just a metaphor, dear sister. Though I suppose I should be more careful with my vocabulary seeing how some people are too slow to understand.”

The young man’s collar was promptly grabbed, and Alphinaud nearly suffocates helplessly against Alisaie’s death grip as she shakes him violently. Illya lets out a melodic laugh, one that echoes in the air to accompany the soft whispers of the wind. When Alphinaud’s face has been sufficiently paled, Alisaie finally releases him to cough, puffing her chest out with a huff.

“So are we done here? I got places to be, thieves to chase, you know.” 

“I concur, Krile and Tataru have need for my assistance with something and I think I’ve kept them waiting long enough.” Y’shtola, despite the sternness in her tone of voice, flashes an uncharacteristically gentle smile. 

“Well, if everyone’s dispersing I guess I will too.” With a stretch and a grunt, Thancred raises the jar of coffee biscuits up. “I’ll leave these in the Rising Stones for anyone who wants some.” 

If G’raha had been attempting to hide his disappointment, he truly did a poor job at it, as his ears flatten against the top of his head and his lips forms into a pout for but a moment. 

“I had hoped that we’d get to linger a little while longer but-”

The Warrior of Light swivels around, and grabs onto Alphinaud’s hand before hopping off the railing, and from beneath the bangs of her hair that shone with an ever transcending radiance, he catches glimpses in the vibrant lavender hues of her eyes a promise - a promise of an adventure, a future, and a wish he’d kept locked in his heart for so long until recently. 

“Don’t worry. We may scatter now.. but..” Illya’s smile is one of a tranquil, reassuring gentleness, as her long hair sways gently like waves among the starry night breeze. G’raha shivers as the wind howls and blows away any ponze of lingering doubts away for good, and he finds himself mirroring the renewed expression of joy she wore upon her face. 

“We’ll all come home again, no matter how long it takes.”

[ladyvialana]

a few thoughts on FFXIV...

So, this game has basically taken over what spare time I have in my life and I have very few regrets (most of those regrets are early-game decisions that I can still work on, so in general no regrets). I was surprised to find myself enjoying the game as much as I did since I tend to prefer single player RPGs to MMORPGs, but it is Final Fantasy, so ...

Anyway, since this game has basically been living in my head for months now and I’m finally caught up to the main storyline (just waiting on the latest patch to download), I figured I would jot down a few fun thoughts and headcanons that I may or may not play with later in fic format.

General stuff:

- playing as a Xaela Au Ra is so much fun

- Dragoon kicks ass, as does Gunbreaker (my 2 mains)

- I am very much a melee/non-magical player but it has never been so evident as it has in this game and, as much as I want to try all of the roles, I fear I will suck so hard at Black Mage and any type of Healer (I will try them all, I’m just going to have to get used to positioning and spell speed restrictions)

- I really like the gathering and crafting side quests and jobs

- part of me still wants to get a house, but I already have an apartment and it’s fine? like I don’t think I need any more space, also it’s cheaper and much less hassle and I hardly spend any time there anyway, so whatever - unless houses allow you more inventory storage space, in which case I need a shitton more gil

- like all of the npcs are great? and there are some really fun character moments/storylines/developments with the scions that I really enjoy

- the way the lore/backstory with the ascians has unfolded is fantastic, they’re much more compelling as antagonists now than upon their initial introduction, like the stakes make sense as do their motives, and they’re sympathetic but you still can’t root for them even though you actually kind of agree with them, I genuinely did not expect to want to know more about them since they just seemed like such generic ‘dark/bad/destruction/chaos’ villains, but they’re great and I want to see how things turn out

Headcanons/NPC stuff:

- G’raha Tia is absolutely worth all the hype and I love him, why is there no romance option in this game???

- the older scions are such dorks and I love them so much (like, that scene where they get their new clothes and weapons back is amazing, they look like kids playing dress-up ... and when Urianger is trying to walk on water and Thancred has to jump in after him, more of those scenes please, I love them)

- the twins are babies and should always be protected (jk, they will totally kick your ass, but they’re still super precious and I would die for them) and I love how they tease each other but they’re super protective of each other, adorable

- Thancred/Urianger is absolutely a thing!!! mostly bc of shadowbringers banter, but it’s there and it’s fantastic and I was not expecting this ship to hit me like this

- Alphinaud gets crushes on nearly everyone he meets, like not super serious or anything, but he’ll just follow them around with heart-eyes and posturing like he’s trying to impress them and it’s absolutely darling and hilarious (he totally had crushes on Estinien and Ysale during Heavensward and kinda had one on WoL during ARR but that faded away into super friendship ... he’s absolutely still got a crush on Estinien though and everyone notices and teases him)

- Alisaie likes to pretend she’s above all of that sort of nonsense but she’s just way better at hiding it than her brother, and she probably is better at rationalising her crushes but she definitely has them (WoL and Lyse, especially) and maybe hers are a little more serious/she gets crushes on close friends that build up over time ... the last one was Tesleen though, so no one really teases her about that like they do Alphinaud and his crushes (also because she doesn’t act way over the top like he does when he’s trying to impress someone)

- I would not trust Y’shtola with small children, they need at least a basic ability to take care of themselves before she should be put in charge of them for any reason, like she shouldn’t even be left in charge of herself if there’s work to be done/mysteries to investigate (Runar was always feeding her for a reason, not just because his feelings for her were adorable)

- I absolutely would trust Urianger with small children, as would everyone else, I would also trust Thancred, though other people would be wary of his reputation (but they’re both such softies for children, total dads, I love them)

- Of the older scions, Thancred is the only one actually any good at cleaning regularly, mostly because he just doesn’t own any stuff and he gets super paranoid about germs and dust whenever Ryne so much as sneezes, so he goes on a cleaning binge (she’s fine, he’s just an overprotective dad), Urianger and Y’shtola get partway through then find a book they’ve been looking for and just stop in the middle of cleaning to read it (that’s if Y’shtola even does her own cleaning, she just enchants brooms to go her work but they’re just not detail-oriented enough to satisfy Thancred’s standards of cleanliness)

- (possibly controversial, I don’t know the fandom well enough) Ryne > Minfillia, also Ryne deserves the world and all of the friends ever and there needs to be a way that she can keep in regular contact with the scions (esp Thancred who cries the next time he sees her in person and doesn’t bother hiding it)

- Tataru Taru=secret ruler of the world??? (Maybe Lalafell just give off that vibe)

- I am still heartbroken about Hauchefaunt and likely forever will be

- The Xaela clans and the Steppe are the best, I will not be accepting any criticism of this opinion (aside from the fact that Au Ra women should have more bodily variety than ‘petite’ :/)

- I was not expecting Gauis to return and definitely not expecting him to return like that (or look like that, like damn, get it Estinien)

Stuff I may write fic about:

- than/uri fluff???

- scions just hanging out

- twins being adorable terrors and dragging poor naive g’raha along and long-suffering WoL having to bail them out

- these are basically (mostly) canon anyway? I just need more

TL:DR

FFXIV is fun and I like the story and the characters and even the villains (who are not as one-dimensional as they seem) and it’s basically like a single player RPG in MMO format. Also there is an option to play as a giant purple dragon-man riding a chocobo, so it is clearly one of the most superior games of recent times (that or I’m just a sucker for squeenix)

[draw-you-coward]

Three things he was jealous of and one others envied about him, for Ikael?

3 + 1 ask meme

thank you very much for this! i quite like how it turned out :)

ao3

If Ikael were to make a list ofbits of him he wished he could replace with bits of other people, he fears itwould be unending. Not because he can think of countless things, but because nomatter what, there would always be something.

And he’s had ample time to thinkabout… quite a few somethings.

~*~

They are in Amaurot. Thancred isstanding there, arms crossed, calm and confident like none of them are. He is ablaze of white in Ikael’s Light-clouded vision; a beacon of protection withblurred edges.

Ikael cannot make out his face withoutsquinting, and even then his expression is only an outline. He tells Thancredthis, tacking on a question, and Thancred nods and lets Ikael reach out with tremblingfingers.

“I just do not know how you canbe so put-together,” Ikael whispers at him as his fingertips ghost over thefaint creases under Thancred’s eyes. “But I appreciate it. I really do.”

“Someone has to be sure of whatwe’re doing.” Thancred’s words should be smirking, but when Ikael touches hismouth, it is set in a flat line.

He is right; none of them are sure,and so he has risen to take up the task. Because of this, Ikael says, “I thinkI am going to die.”

Thancred’s jaw beneath Ikael’s thumbtightens. It unclenches after a split second, no doubt because Ikael’s touch isseeking and sensitive, but he tucks the reaction under his heart regardless.

Thancred says, “And I say youwill not. As I said, someone has to.”

Ikael closes his eyes, althoughit does not make much of a difference, and hugs Thancred. He is hugged backtightly, strong and secure. Ikael says, whispers, breathes—“Thank you.”

He wishes he could believe what inThancred does. He wishes he could believe in himself.

~*~

Really, Ikael, Thancred hadsaid to him once, in a reassuring and somewhat placating tone, I neverdevoted that much time to my aethercraft studies. I feel foolish next to Y'shtolaand Urianger as well, you know.

Thancred is a damned liar, Ikael hassince decided.

It has been two bells. Two.Bells. Ikael keeps going back to Urianger’s kitchen to stress-bake more mini-pastries,and the three—the three—scholars in the living room that are the source ofhis trouble are consuming all of them without a hint of irony.

“But it is the information thatis stored in the runes.” Y'shtola is punctuating her words with excitedjabs at what is, in Ikael’s opinion, a boring, somewhat ugly stone slab withsome scribbles on it. “That such small things imbued with such littleenchantment can hold so much knowledge…”

She shakes her head, her sharp featureseasing in awe. Urianger nods sagely, holding up a finger as he prepares his verboseaddition. Thancred is watching with that particular expression of his that saysthat he is pretending not to pay attention or care about what is being talkedabout, but is in fact paying a lot of attention and cares very deeply.

“Verily, I understandeth now whythine findings in Rak’tika hath granted thee such zeal,” Urianger says. “Thelight of learning doth shine in thine eyes like a beacon, my dear lady.”

Ikael makes a face at a wall,rolling his eyes. No one notices; they aren’t paying attention to him.

“Charming words from a newly-charmingman,” he hears Thancred say in the background before he tunes their voices outand goes to check on the tea. The shining copper kettle toots pathetically athim. Ikael stares at it balefully.

“Sometimes I feel like the onlypeople that understand me are you and me, Tootoo,” he says.

Toooootoooo, the kettlesays back. Ikael gives it a sigh and a little pat.

When he returns to the livingroom to serve the now-famous faerie tea, it is to an odd sort of atmosphere. Y'shtolais smirking a little, Urianger looks, if Ikael would ever dare to attribute theword to him, almost smug as he settles into his armchair, and Thancred isadjusting his choker and… Is he blushing?

“Uh, tea’s ready,” Ikael says unnecessarily,laying the tray down on the table.

Thancred clears his throat, quickand polite. Ikael stares at him.

“Thank you, Ikael,” Y'shtola saysdemurely, some hidden amusement in her voice the source of which Ikael is notprivy to. “Come sit with us; I think we can all agree it is best if we switchsubjects to something more, ah…”

“Anything!” Thancred interrupts. Heclears his throat again. “Er… what about that coeurl of yours, Ikael? Is she doingwell?”

He smiles, all friendly lying teeth.Ikael keeps staring at him.

~*~

“No, really, your tail is sofluffy!” Ikael runs his fine-toothed comb through the fur once again, gently separatingthe strands that have clumped together. “I wish mine grew out like this.”

“I-is that so? Well, I’m… I’mflattered! And I… I think your tail is quite perfect the way it is, Ikael.”

G’raha’s face is turned away fromhim slightly at this angle, but Ikael can still tell from the flush creeping uphis neck and the twitching of his ears that he is embarrassed. Ikael coos athim, squeezing the base of his tail gently to calm him.

For some reason it doesn’t seemto work, but Ikael stops paying mind to G’raha’s reactions, narrowing his focusto his combing. The poor dear had tripped and fallen into a mud puddle andgotten his tail so terribly, terribly dirty. Ikael is sympathetic.

“I will lend you the oils I useto clean my tail,” he says. “And—you say you do not have any?—I will look forlong-furred blends in the market and get them for you. Now, there is a specificorder and process to this, G’raha! You have to do it correctly or it will notwork; I will help you.”

He stops combing to wag hisfinger knowingly, and then starts to push out the dried mud with his fingers; thispart he has reached is too matted to comb. Poor dear, Ikael thinks forperhaps the seventh time.

Still. If Ikael hadgorgeous soft fur like this, he would take extra special care of it. Hewould spend all of his money on it too—he has quite a bit now, because he hasbeen away from the marketplace for a while, and he is itching to spend it all.Oh! Mayhaps he can buy things for G’raha’s tail and treat it as if it were hisown. Yes…

“Thank you, Ikael, that is… beyondany length I would expect you to go to for m—for my tail.” G’raha ducks his head,ears dipping. Ikael hums at him—poor dear.

“No problem!” he says amicably. Hedoes not know why G’raha is acting so self-conscious, but he hopes he will notbe like this for too long. After all, this is the least Ikael can do.

~*~

Thancred is at a loss insituations like this.

Y'shtola is hiding her gaze fromhis, holding her arm with hunched shoulders and a lack of confidence that isjarringly unlike her. Thancred does not like it—she should never be this upset,and curse that damned Ascian for making her so—but he does not… know what to doabout it.

He knows what to do with Ikael,but Y'shtola is not Ikael. And neither is Thancred, as much as right now he wisheshe were. Ikael would know what to say, what to do. Would know how to comfortwithout stepping over any unsaid boundaries, would say the right words andsound more genuine than Thancred could ever hope to.

For a while Thancred was jealousof this in a bitter sort of way, but he feels nothing but shame for that now. Heregrets the biting feeling in his chest he used to have when he would see Ikaelgive affection—to Ryne, mostly—so easily, so instinctively. All he hasto do is smile and she lights up. All he has to do is hold out a hand and Thancredhimself turns to him like a flower starved of sunlight.

That part should terrify him,honestly. But it does not.

He steps forwards, never moreaware in this moment than he has ever been of the distance between himself andanother person. Y'shtola’s face turns towards him, and Thancred extends a carefulhand, says, “May I—”

“Yes,” Y'shtola replies quickly,before he can finish his sentence. Thancred’s superficially teasing smile is cutout by his relief, and he pulls her to his chest before their eyes make contact—howeverunnecessary that may be.

She is tense, but she… relaxes, Thancredthinks. He is too busy noticing how this feels, how different Y'shtola’spresence and form both are to Ikael’s. The ties on the back of her dresscriss-cross over her bare back, exposing it, and Thancred wonders for a strangeand guarding second whether Runar has ever held her like this, touched that bareand defenseless skin.

The thought causes him to strugglewith the very weird urge to… offer her his coat or something, so he says todistract himself, “You know, you’re not that much shorter than Ikael.”

It is probably the wrong thing tosay. Y'shtola stills for a second, then replies in a decidedly flat tone, “Yourpowers of observation never cease to amaze, Thancred.”

Her head is remarkably close to Ikael-hugging-head-height.Thancred eyes her furry white ears as they twitch and fall lax, a thoughtcreeping up on him.

As if she can sense it, Y'shtola starts,“Don’t you dare—”

Too late. Thancred scratchesbehind one ear playfully and lightly at first, not wanting to risk her wrath. Y’shtolatenses once more, but then she melts into him with a quiet, almost vulnerable sigh,and Thancred tries his best not to show his shock. He had never expected that shewould allow this level of intimacy from him—but he quickly adjusts, tighteninghis arms to a more comforting pressure and rubbing the base of her ears ingentle, circular motions that he knows Ikael at the very least likes very much.If Y’shtola is letting down her defenses, no matter how unexpected, Thancred isnot going to take the matter lightly.

“You are… very good at this,” Y'shtolamumbles into his shoulder, sounding somewhat surprised herself. Thancred makesa noncommittal noise.

“I am just doing what I do with Ikael,”he answers truthfully. “You aren’t going to cry on me now, are you?”

“Ah, never mind,” says Y'shtola. “Yourmouth ruins what your body has accomplished. Hmph. I am certain you are used toit being the other way around.”

Thancred’s rubbing hand stills.She has to know what she sounds like, she has to. But he cannot check tosee if she is smirking or not, with her head angled inwards like this. Which is…probably something she is aware of. Is she doing this on purpose? Thancred feelsas if she is.

“Unfortunately, myself and mylackluster abilities are what you have to depend on right now,” he decides toreply, matching her dry tone. “But if you want me to stop…”

He makes as if to move away, and herhand clenches briefly and tightly in his coat. Smiling privately, Thancred readjustshis arms around her.

Y'shtola’s head bows furtheragainst his shoulder. “… I hate you,” she mutters after a tired second.

Thancred presses his lips herhead, light and brief. Something in that gesture—the sheer meaning of it—makeshis heart hurt for a second, as the longing he had had to tug her close to himand hold her forever after she had fallen in the pit resurfaces and floods himwith the strength of a tidal wave. He closes his eyes, opens them, inhales deeplyand pulls back on the exhale.

Thancred is not different from Ikaelin how much he cares. Because he cares deeply. So deeply, so much thatit hurts. Sometimes, it feels like an ache in his chest that will never leave. Thancredcan never not be aware of it, so strong are the feelings in his heart.

But maybe Ikael can teach him howto be better at showing it.

~*~