#one of the best elezen

[abyssalmermaiden]

"I pity you. You just don't get it at all. There's not a thing I don't cherish!"

[eukrasiancrisis]

Elftober #12: Knowledge

"To knowledge-- the acquisition, the preservation and the sweet, slow decay thereof."

[nabaath-areng]

long time no estieeha

my eyes hurt a lot so couldnt be bothered to tweak or edit much if at all

[candycryptids]

😇- What's their best trait?

👿- What's their worst trait?

for Tuesday and Chuu

“Miss Chuu’s best trait? Mmm… You said this is an interview for your retelling of the Warriors of Light and their journey, right? I’d say it’s her unshakeable resolve. She decides she’s going to do something, and she doesn’t give up until it’s done. Ah… I’m not allowed to speak more on Miss Chuu without her presence, my apologies, mister Levraut.”

“You broke into my house,”

“Your lovely wife let me in actually,”

“To wake me up from my nap and interrogate me on my assistant,”

“Interview, Mademoiselle, not interrogate. Though I am sorry for waking you, your eyes were open so I assumed-”

“Ah-ta-ta. You wanted to know Two’s best trait right? Adaptability. Any environment, any obstacle… he’s got brains enough to figure the way through most anything. And failing that? He knows a top notch engineer in Magitek to kit him with the right tools to overcome his few shortcomings. Hey wait did you fucking call me a mad gazelle, you lop-eared scab?!”

“Thank you for your time, both of you. I have just one more question before I consider this interview complete and I let you both go back to your.. erm, busy schedules. What would you say is each others weakest trait?”

“I knew it! This IS an interrogation! Two, don’t-”

“Ah, that would be Miss Chuu’s paranoia, mister Levraut. Most of her other traits net positive gain,”

“Watch your mouth, Two.”

“That is.. ah, her paranoid trait has served to pull her out of many situations she would have landed in had they not afforded her foresight and caution to approach most situations.”

“Two’s worst trait is how I just can’t seem to keep mad at him when he finds and exploits loopholes in whatever rules I’ve set for him. And last week I asked him to bring me lunch, and he was nowhere to be seen for nearly six bells.”

“… Miss Chuu, if I may, you were in Azys La, and you called me via Linkpearl to bring you specifically egg sandwiches from the Bismark, even utilizing the Aethernet it takes time… and when I arrived at your last marked location you were nowhere to be found.”

[Duo Oc Ask Meme !]

[tsunael]

I've been working on a potential pose pack (!?) these last couple of weeks. It's my first one so I need to do some serious testing on different races and more general tweaking, but so far I'm pretty happy with the results! So, have some shitty previews!

Content warning of Tsuna in her skivvies.

[checkuu]

my greatest work of art

@yangyexin

[tovaicas]

love running into other duskwight players btw because there are only six of us in existence

[halonicheart]

Take portraits in Holminster Switch, the lighting in the forested area you first spawn in is so fun to work with.

[hazelkjt]

"Doing Better"

The finale to this post ----------

Emmanellain waited at the airship dock for what felt like hours. Snow was lightly falling at Falcon's Nest, the exact same as the day on his mind. He had no idea how to respond to Hazel's outburst at the time, people confessing their feelings for him was not something Emmanellain was all that used to.

It took a few weeks after their last unfortunate meeting for Emmanellain to work up the courage to come out to Falcon's Nest. After many chats with Honoroit, Artoirel, and even going to his father for advice, Emm has finally made up his mind. And this time waiting at the dock is the perfect time to get his thoughts in order for when he sees her again. He stopped by the Amelune estate and was (rudely) told by the servant who answered the door they were out for a practice session and to, quote, "fuck off already."

Emmanellain’s thoughts about that uncouth woman were interrupted by the sound of clinking armor approaching. He snaps his head up to find two heavily armored figures approaching, one clad in white and the other red. The one in red was unmistakably Hazel, her face unobscured. Which would make the other woman walking beside her the one and only White Snake of Ishgard, Lia Amelune. Hazel seemed to be walking with a slight limp, holding the side of her right leg. She must have sustain some kind of injury while training today. Though it was clear from the Au Ra’s facial expression that there wasn’t any lasting pain anymore, just soreness perhaps.

Despite this, Emmanellain jumps up from the wooden crate he was sitting on and races over to the two. “Hazel! Are you alright!?” He knew the question was rhetorical but he felt he had to ask anyway. The Auri woman’s eyes shoot open as she looks in the direction of the yelling, taking a step back in reaction…right on to her injured leg. She winces slightly while bringing her hands over her heavily beating heart, as if trying to calm it through the layer of armor of her chestplate.

“Emm! What are you-why are you here!?” The end of Hazel’s tail flicked back and forth erratically, slapping the end of the spear that rested upon her back. Emmanellain was poised to respond until he felt a chill from his side: Lia Amelune was standing there with her arms crossed, not moving a muscle. Even from underneath her helmet he could feel her intense stare on him. Clenching his fists to steel his nerves, while also trying his best to keep his knees from chattering together, Emmanellain turns to face the White Snake. “Pardon me, madame. I would like a word alone with Hazel. If that’s agreeable with you?”

Lia’s expression was unreadable under her helmet. She continued glaring daggers at Emmanellain for what felt like an eternity before turning to address Hazel. “Do not be late back tonight.” She ordered her apprentice and began walking off to the airship waiting for her. The two remaining stood in silence until the ship departed the dock, at which time Emm let out a breath of relief. “She is certainly intense…” he mutters under his breath, turning his attention back to Hazel.

The Au Ra was balancing most of her weight off her hurt leg, grasping at her arm and avoiding looking in Emmanellain’s direction entirely. “You didn’t answer my question.” She still wasn’t looking at him, but her tone made it clear she was indeed referring to Emm. The Elezen man clears his throat and takes a deep breath. “I came to see you…I had to.” From the heart, just as Honoroit said. Hazel’s tail stops for a moment and her posture straightens before she lets out a frustrated sigh.

“I told you to drop it.” Her brow was furrowed but at least she was looking towards him now. Emmanellain shakes his head in response, shifting his posture and crossing his arms. “It is precisely because you told me to forget what you said that I can’t.” Hazel’s eyebrows rise ever so slightly at this, her cheeks turning ever so lightly pink. Emmanellain continues. “It seems your mind is quite made up, so let me ask why. Why should I forget?”

Hazel stands there speechless for a few moments. She didn’t expect this kind of questioning from Emmanellain of all people. She opens her mouth to speak but is cut off by Emm. “The truth…please?” He smiles towards Hazel, but a hint of sadness present his eyes as he does so. The Au Ra clicks her tongue and breathes in through her teeth out of frustration, but nods silently to his request. “…You’re incredible, you know that?” The out of nowhere compliment from Hazel catches Emmanellain off guard, his cheeks and the tips of his ears turning red.

Hazel continues, limping towards the end of the airship dock. “You’re the son of a high house family, you’re kind and considerate, when you put your mind to it you’re great with people, and you’re a hell of a lot smarter than you let on. If you put the hard work and honest effort in you could probably pull whoever you wanted as a partner…certainly someone better than me…” her voice trails off near the end but this time Emm catches every word. He begins to make his way towards her, not able to help being shocked. “Wha-do you truly think that little of yourself?”

Hazel shrugs her shoulders and turns to face Emmanellain again. “Think about it, I’m just some random girl who grew up out in the middle of nowhere compared to here. I lucked into this apprenticeship with Lady Amelune but that’s it. I’ve got nothing going for me outside my skills in a fight. I’m a nobody here and you’re a somebody, it’s pretty simple. I was just kidding myself, thinking I had a chance…” A sad chuckle ends Hazel’s little explanation while Emm stood there speechless.

He could hardly believe the words out of her mouth. Hazel was putting herself down so far? Hazel? Emmanellain tries to speak but can’t find what to say. Hazel gives a sad smile, shaking her head. “Growing up I got used to all kinds of stares and leers.” She touches her cheek, right on her black scales. “They’re becoming more common with each generation but having them be this black is still pretty rare. Not to mention…” she gestures downwards to her body. “…not that many Auri women get this tall either. Even in my own tribe I could feel people constantly staring, because I was different.”

The Au Ra began walking again, absentmindedly pacing around. “Eventually I stopped feeling the stares, until I came here to Ishgard. It’s not all that surprising I guess, knowing now that Ishgard’s got…history with the Xaela.” Emmanellain flinches slightly at this, but stays silent. Hazel continues again. “Pretty soon it was back to the same feeling of eyes constantly being on me, looking down on me…except for you.” She looks back to Emm once more, the same sad smile on her face. “That night, at the party, I didn’t see that glint of discomfort or disgust in your eyes. You were just being genuine with me, and I guess I latched on to that…” Emmanellain takes another step towards Hazel as she finishes airing her thoughts, catching the glimpse of something in her eye. Are those…tears?

Hazel’s breath catches in her throat as Emmanellain suddenly lunges forward and grabs her hand. “Hazel.” His confident tone of voice shocks her, unable to look away from him. He continues on, gripping her hand tightly in his own. “You are so much more than you believe yourself to be. Your passion, your drive, your sense of humor, your intellect, your beauty…you are the incredible one between the two of us.” Her cheeks blush brighter at his words.

“You are an inspiration to me, I strive to become the person you believe I can be, and perhaps one day I will be. But even then, I don’t know if I would be worthy of your hand.” The tears begin to fall from Hazel’s eyes as Emm gives her a sincere smile in return. “You are the one who could do better than me.” He declares as Hazel uses her free hand to wipe her face free of tears.

Emmanellain proceeds to pull her into a hug, making sure to avoid the sharp bits of metal protruding from her armor while doing so. Hazel complies, sobbing into his chest for a few minutes while the two remain mostly in silence. Eventually she breaks away from the tight embrace but still holding close to Emm, her hands now resting on his chest. “I…I’m sorry.” It was all Hazel could get out between sniffling and wiping away more tears. Emmanellain chuckles, Hazel feeling it rising in his breast as he does. “Well, if you still believe I could do better than you, my father can attest that I am quite the underachiever. Par for the course, really.”

Hazel shakes her head but laughs all the same at Emm’s comment. He places a hand under her chin and pulls her line of sight to meet his own, another sincere smile on his face. “It took me quite a while to figure this out, and far too long to return your words. But, better late than never I suppose. I love you as well, Hazel.” With these words a large weight felt as if it was removed from both of their chests, Hazel’s tail now swaying back and forth fully and wildly.

The Auri woman couldn’t help but smile and begin laughing, tears still flowing down her face. Emmanellain joins her chorus of laughter with his own, helping to walk the limping woman to the bench to await the next airship to arrive. As the two sat down, Hazel leaned her head against Emm’s shoulder, her horn gently resting upon him. He begins to open his mouth to speak, but instead opts to remain quiet. Emmanellain then slowly begins to snake his hand into Hazel’s, a gesture the Au Ra returns gratefully. The two sat in silence for who knows how long, keeping warm all due to their newfound love. And it was all they needed.

[sjofn-lofnsdottr]

What was the thought process behind their appearance? Did you go mostly for the aesthetic or are there other reasons they look the way they do?

There's reasons Dusk looks the way he does, but it's a little silly!

Behold, my creative process:

I want to make a hippie artist who is the nicest man in the world

I want to give him a hippie-ish name

I kind of like Dusk, sure let's go with that

I do not want him to seem like a Dusk

Double down on that nicest man in the world stuff, me

But also surely a Dusk would not be a big clumsy man with short blonde hair and a beard, right? Right.

I often make my RP characters in RPGs if I think their personality will fit, just because I like putting them in Situations I didn't necessarily come up with myself. So! When I started FFXIV, and I saw the elezen were kind of weird looking, I wanted to make one. What made me decide that this elezen would be Dusk, specifically? The beard. It feels so shallow to say, especially since he has fit into being an elezen so, so well now that I can't imagine him as anything else, but it was ENTIRELY because I thought elezen got the best beard, and that's what made me decide this elezen would be Dusk.

Thank you for the ask!

[plounce]

WIP whenever!

thanks @anneapocalypse for the tag :~) your little snippet was extremely sweet and seasonal heheh

scraping through my memory and tagging @ostentenacity , @transgenderlestat , @faelithurgy , @nongunktional , @peepooworld , aaaaaaaand @lesbianmarrow . but only if you want to. AND @ecosystem-administrator i KNEW i was forgetting someone

i do have something that i'm finishing up that will be posted very soon, but this isn't that. it's an ancestor to jerkwol, but instead with generic meteor man being a more masc jerk than the mviera i eventually created for that line of thought. still bad news for thancred though. i wrote this in june 2023 and have not worked on it since. be free, abandoned wip!

(CWs for some drinking and a general sense of uneasiness and discomfort about a man. this was meant to be the start of a downhill slide to realizing your godkilling hero is actually a total douchebag)

It had started after Operation Archon. Perhaps not started - begun. It had begun then, even though he didn't know it yet.

There had been parties all over the place to celebrate the Garleans being driven from Eorzea, and the Waking Sands was no exception. The halls were bright and loud, ringing with drinking songs, excited conversation, and cheers for the man of the hour. Meteor had made his rounds through the crowd, handsome grin on his face as he received compliment after compliment. He shook hands, gave hugs, and was overall the very picture of a hero.

Thancred was doing his best to sketch a picture of who he usually was, but he knew he was failing. He just didn't have it in him. The joy pervading the room was only so infectious when one was recovering from being puppeted around by a villainous madman, and he had been nursing his first drink of the night - maybe the alcohol would soothe him and allow him to enjoy the festivities, but every time he went to down it, he remembered that night in that inn in east Thanalan, and he found himself nauseous.

For the majority of the evening, he'd stationed himself next to Urianger, the elezen's notoriously reclusive personality and unfashionable appearance enough to ward off most of those who sought to approach Thancred in an attempt to comfort him ("glad you're doing alright" he's not; "it's not your fault" it is). Urianger hated drinking with strangers, and could easily be prodded into rambling about any given book on the surrounding shelves. His low, steady voice was soothing, and trying to keep up with his vocabulary kept Thancred's mind occupied enough.

Minfilia was the center of the crowd, radiating warmth, light, and joy like the sun. He couldn't bear to speak with her. Not after he'd failed her yet again. She'd told him that she didn't blame him, that she was simply glad they'd managed to get him back, but her forgiveness (as ever) was too much for him to comprehend, much less accept.

The evening wore on. Urianger excused himself to take Louisoix's grandson to bed, and predictably took that as a way to escape the party himself. Thancred wished he could do the same, but his exhaustion was outweighed by the bone-deep need to keep Minfilia in sight when there was drink flowing in a packed room, and she didn't look like she was going to leave anytime soon.

"Quite a looker, isn't she?"

Thancred didn't jump (that had been trained out of him long ago), but he did tense. Meteor had somehow teleported from the other side of the room, holding two drinks.

At Thancred's silence, he added, "Minfilia, I mean." He nodded towards her.

Thancred swirled his own drink, watching the undoubtedly lukewarm liquid slosh in the mug. "Aye, she's grown up well." He'd dealt with this conversation before - other men who took his own philandering as permission to bawdily discuss Minfilia's looks with him. It ranged from uncomfortable to infuriating, and a few broken noses had come of it. He didn't know Meteor as well as some of the others did, and this had the potential to be a poor start to their working relationship, especially since Thancred already owed him an unpayable debt for saving him from Lahabrea.

Meteor looked at him consideringly for a long moment. Thancred shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. He lifted his drink to his mouth, and actually drained the mug. Old habits die hard.

As soon as he set the mug down on Urianger's worktable, he found another being crowded into his hand. "Er, sorry, but I–"

"I actually got this for you," Meteor said, nudging it into his palm until he gave up and took it. "You looked lonely over here, and having Urianger as company couldn't have made for the best party experience."

Thancred's eyes narrowed, but he made himself chuckle. "Well, when you've known him for as long as I have, you get used to him."

"If you say so," Meteor laughed, and took a swig of his drink. Thancred copied him. Maybe he would drink a little. Anything to make this conversation with his savior less awkward.

They continued to talk and drink – well, Meteor did most of the talking, sharing anecdotes from his journey up to this point, and chatting with people who stopped by to congratulate and thank him. Thancred mostly nodded and hummed, working on his drink. He'd planned to have that be his last one, but Meteor grabbed him another one, and it was decent ale tonight, and Thancred couldn't stand it when the others came by and joined them because he had nothing to add but his poor mood, so he drank to cover it up. It was fine. He knew his limits. He did. Maybe they weren't as good as he thought they were before all this, but he'd learned his lesson.

[idalenn]

Day 4 - Reticent

Worqor Zormor - Lillian and Alisaie switch up the plan to harry the Second Promise. (7.0)

Major characters: Warrior of Light, Thancred, Urianger

Full text below the cut

Quick as a lie, Lillian’s hand snapped away from her forehead and a golden cord yanked Alisaie whole into her grip.

“We’re changing the plan,” Lillian growled, twisting the younger girl around to get at the leather tube slung across her back. “Alisaie, you and Krile stay with Wuk Lamat, and I’ll head off the others at the pass instead.”

“What’s come over you,” the girl cried. “So. Suddenly?” Wrenching with all force in her Elezen frame, she tried to free herself to no avail. Lillian’s arms were muscle woven with steel.

“Thancred got the best of us. Heard all we – quit moving – intended. They’ll expect your harassment up ahead.” Her deft fingers slid around the tube’s hooks, undoing them one after another. So much easier without gloves, she thought. In short order the map was flapping in her hand. “But not mine.” Krile nodded, clarity writ plain on her face.

“The Echo. We’ll leave this to you, then.” She knocked their Hrothgar claimant across one hand with the dripping end of her brush. “Worqor Zormor awaits us, Third Promise. Our friend will rejoin us once she’s finished.”

Confusion reigned over Wuk Lamat’s own expression. “Does anyone care to enlighten me on this?”

“It must needs be later, I’m afraid. Just run for now. I’ll do my best to inform you of the basics on the way.”

“So it goes.” Wuk Lamat’s shoulders slipped with a heavy sigh. Beyond a protesting Alisaie, Lillian hurriedly crumpled the map into a long green pocket of her cape. “I bring you into my circle for help and you look to escape me at the first chance. Sometimes I think you just can’t toler-AH–” Wind took the rest of her words, loose earth and shards of rock showering the remaining party as Lillian raced off with its power at her back, yalms melting away with each stride.

 Up the path she went dodging around fallen stone outcroppings and growths of blue and violet crystal, the image of the Second Promise’s ascension on a column of air with Thancred and Urianger in tow still burned into her eyes. Not one soul in that damned town malms below had mentioned that was a possibility. Or perhaps her attention had fallen off at the wrong time in conversation and missed its passing mention in one of many grand tales she had been forced into hearing, some unexplainable act that had allowed the defeat of a rampaging beast like Valigarmanda. That was the irritating part about scholars like Koana; legends always held a grain of truth, and those learned as he always knew how to exploit those grains. Like as not down in the valley there existed some Sharlayan device he’d built capable of calling tempests to aid him.

Irritated, she slammed her staff into the mountain face and flooded it with aether. Juts of jagged, black stone ground out, dislodging flora that had lain root in the rock and birds that had found roost in the plants. Once extended enough for use, she bound up the cantilevered platforms, staff readied, its tip alight with pearlescent aether. One bird arrowed towards the Miqo’te, squawking complaint till light and petrichor found their mark, the smell of roast windkin filling Lillian’s mouth with water and nearly sending her feathered cap flying into the abyss. She almost shed a tear as the bird tumbled limp trailing feathers through the clouds.

After the last step, Lillian found herself on a mountain ledge flanked by a low rise of boulders and flowered moss. She drew out the time weathered map and flattened it on the ground, tsking at a tear she made in her haste to abscond. Wuk Lamat had been correct, but why waste time and confirm to the child claimant what she already knew? She was haughty, naïve, self-absorbed, and above all, a fool who believed Lillian’s actions took her well-being into consideration.

Were you not similar once, and did you not learn better? The voice of logic nagged. Quiet. Never so much as she, Lillian thought back, smoothing the spot Thancred pointed out to the Second Promise; a wide pass dotted with the ruins of ancient walls

“Alisaie plans to harry us here. She’s a quick-footed little pest, but we’ve battled alongside long enough for me to know exactly where her faults lie, and I’ve been itching for the opportunity to knock her down a peg or four. I’ll have her in bed without supper and you your victory before the Third Promise realizes she’s been made.”

We’ll see if you can manage the same against me, she thought, stuffing the map back down, wind licking at her heels as she ran. Beastkin poked their soft, red noses from their dens as she passed and retreated just as quickly. Excitement made her ears unable to stay still. They beat a dangerous leather heartbeat against their coverings sewn into her cap. Her thoughts were smothered, but so were the land’s whispers.

The ruins were a short jaunt away. There, the ground was soft and pocketed with fist-width craters filled with tepid water. Vegetation grew verdant from the civilization’s desiccated corpse to cover the bones in green embrace.

There it was. Along the path to the mountain’s summit, a towering stone barrier stood solemn. Dutiful. For a Miqo’te clad in forest colors: easily concealed behind. Some great hand had torn a hole through its skin and left a passage from ruin to path providing the perfect redoubt from which to utilize a White Mage’s magic against unwary passersby. Lillian sprinted across the sodden field, her mind bursting with all the possibilities to slow down her opponents.

As she reached the hole, a white blur faded into the open space.

A reticent blur of white absent of sound, of tension, of presence and definition. The pressure of existence swelled gradually with each fifth of moment. Her brain fired desperately on every available detail.

Bulk; clothing; the jangling of canisters; his interwoven bandolier; plant musk hiding his scent.

Thancred?

Who could claim the greater surprise? Not he, who knew of a coming. Not her, who knew of an arriving.

But if anything, he didn’t appear surprised at all. In fact, he was even –

Smiling?

A strong, hardened jaw stared back at her, yellow teeth glinting from a light growing –

From below?

A tickle started in her brain. Understanding came before the knowing.

Water flew into her hand from the puddle below before growing outward in a blue, glass-thin sheen in the path of the gunblade’s edge, hardening into a shield faster than the blooming muzzle flash. The explosion sent her flying back in a trail of dust and smoke. Powder smell filled her nose. Her ears rang with a cannon blast. Wind gathered thick around in a shroud of green aether to carry her from danger, willing herself to land upright on stable ground.

But as she did, a sigil circled with arcane letters expanded across the stone.

Rolling in the air, her hand wreathed in blinding green tore across the space as a wave of wind struck her full in the side mere ilms from the sigil, lifting the Warrior of Light to send her tumbling bodily across the ground and out of the way of harm as the sigil vanished in a thunderclap of dust and heat. Coughing up more dust caught in her throat, she turned blazing yellow eyes to the cloud of soot obscuring her would-be assailants.

“Bastards… the both of you.” She rose on shaking legs. Shards of broken stone had ripped tears in the cloth of her garb. Blood sheathed from a deep, muddy cut on her arm, but nothing else felt broken.

“Come now, we’re all friends here, and what’s a scuffle between friends.”

Thancred sauntered out from the debris, a shite-eating grin ballooning across his handsome features. Following suit with a light chuckle was Urianger, his astrometer spinning at the ready with cards prepped for reading.

“Our comrade believeth her hand superior to thine own.”

“Count yourself lucky that Alisaie hadn’t been the one around that corner.” Lillian spat a globule of saliva laced with red. “You might have killed her.”

“And I would have been eternally guilty for the act, make no mistake.” Somehow Thancred’s smile grew wider. “But, thankfully, no luck was necessary. You came around just as I had planned.”

“Planned? Ha!” Lillian tossed back her head to laugh. The movement made her wince. “Unless one of you can divine the future, my being here is all luck. And where has the Second Promise gone?”

“Ahead,” Thancred said.

“Thou would beggar of us an explanation?”

“Please. I’m all ears – hold…” She held up a finger hazy with radiant white and plunged the digit into her ringing ear. As the aether healed the damage from Thancred’s attack, the plants around her feet withered into brown husks and crumbled to join the dirt. “Apologies – Now I’m all ears.”

“Your Echo.” Thancred wore the face of a child swimming in an ocean of unwrapped candies. At Lillian’s widened eyes, he continued. “A most useful tool in our adventures, being allowed to witness past events as they occurred. But only as they occurred.”

“Of strength in sight does it boast, yet Master Thancred, awash in inspiration and long accustomed, privy to thine Echo’s potency, hath discovered the flaw in its making.” He held a hand to his lips and laughed lightly. Lightly and restrained. “Deceived we were, as means to deceive you.”

Lillian shook her head. “Somehow I believe this is just some trick to keep me here.”

“Oh, you were tricked, all right. Now your turn comes – what did the Echo show?”

“And why would I tell you?”

“You saw us discussing plans with Koana; plans to ambush Alisaie; plans in which I spoke of knocking her down a peg or four? You witness events exactly as they occur, so once we witnessed you succumb to the Echo’s effects…” Thancred placed a hand to his forehead.

“Into the fold were the Second Promise and I giveth allowance, and a trap thus lain for our dearest friend.”

Thancred’s fingers drummed along the gunblade’s handle. “Do pass on my thanks to Alisaie. Had it not been for her plot on Ultima Thule confirming you’ve density common with archon loaf, this endeavor may not have been as fruitful as hoped.”

The skin under Lillian’s left eye began to quiver. White aether burst at her wounded arm as the dirt crumbled into fine powder under her boots. “I hope you realize what you’ve earned.” Her words came out as a low hiss, the corners of her mouth twitched ever so slightly upward.

“A prize, I wager! And a prize Urianger and I have wished so long to taste.”

“Indeed. We bringeth all our might to bear, that we may witness might worthy of song and notoriety, what bringeth even eikons to heel.”

With a malicious cacophony, like to an endless sea of keening glass, from Lillian’s back spread opalescent wings of aether aflame, size and ferocity swelling until she was rendered a silhouette before their crescendo. Sensation of needles prickled against the Scions’ skin, and the myriad wounds below notice across her flesh steamed forth white clouds until hale and closed.

“Try not to choke on it.”

[briar-ffxiv]

FFXIV Write #27 - Memory

FFXIV Write 2024 Master Post

Prompt #27 - Memory

Note: Briar visits his mother's resting place.

Trigger warning: Mentions of death of a parent (mother) and grief.

Briar ran slim fingers gently over the trunk of the willow tree. It was his mother's tree, as he had always thought of it. As his mother, Saule, had told him, the willow had been there since before Briar's grandparents even built the cottage. Nonetheless, it was Saule's tree.

Although the memories had faded with time, many of the ones he held closest to his heart were of sitting under this very tree with his mother. When she had passed one cold winter, Briar had spent hours digging under it to bury her there. He couldn't think of a place better for her to rest than under her favourite tree.

When the red moon had fallen and torn the skies apart, it was between the roots of the old willow a young Briar had curled up, trying to hide from the chaos around him. It was both a blessing and a miracle that the fires had not touched the old willow. Some part of Briar was sure it was his mother's spirit protecting both him and her beloved tree...

Perhaps that was a foolish thought, but it gave him some comfort.

Since his mother's death, Briar had always done his best to tend the tree lovingly. He didn't protest the creatures that lived in it, of course, for it was their home too. But he made sure that no vines choked it and that the roots were well cared for. If a branch was damaged, he would mend or remove it as best for the tree. If a tree could be loved, Saule's willow was by her son.

It was a place of memories, both bittersweet and comforting.

Today, he sought it for comfort. Out of habit, he brushed a hand over the tree, sending a small thread of aether to curl around it, touching the tree's essence. The half-Elezen smiled as he felt the familiar, old but strong energy of the tree. It reassured him that the willow was doing well. He stroked the trunk and shifted to the side, sliding down to sit on one of the thick, visible roots so he could rest his head against the tree.

Briar grimaced, rubbing a hand on his scarred throat. Strangely, it was moments like this that he most resented being forced into silence. It hurt that he could no longer speak to his mother for comfort the way he once had...

He looked down, feeling the prickle of tears both angry and sad, fighting them back as they were useless in the moment. His gaze fell on the warm soil between the roots and he brushed a hand over it, pausing suddenly. For a long moment, Briar was still before he wiped his palm to clear away some of the fallen leaves as the seasons turned.

With a light touch, he wrote in the soil, tapered fingers drawing letters into the welcoming earth. Hello, Maman. I miss you. He rested his hand on the earth where his mother rested and leaned against the tree, eyes sliding shut as the tears finally fell.

[candycryptids]

👿- What's their worst trait?

eheheh >:) for whoever you feel it would be the most fun to answer!!

Firstly thank you for da ask ;w;!!! This was spicy because I’m actually going to talk about my husbands guy a little bit… and show y’all post ShB-semi-into-EW Ishi eheheehee- tho there’s a very very mild ShB spoiler so watch out!

“I appreciate you taking time out of your day to speak with me, and answering all the questions I’ve had concerning your journey and how you’ve felt through it all… Your insight into the first and your extensive knowledge of Feo Ul was quite interesting.”

“Mmhm, it’s been surreal recounting everything that happened, but at least SOMEBODY’s writing it down now.. And Their Majesty has made wielding scholastic magic much easier, since I can’t summon my own faerie normally. Are you sure you don’t want a cookie? They’re Kizuna’s da’s recipe, you know.”

“Ah, speaking of Kizuna… You two have started dating right? The two shining beacons of heroism and do-gooding-recklessly, surely you know better than anyone else what he’s like. We all know his good side, but what about the bad?”

“Eh???? EHHHH?? Where’d you get that idea?! D-dating… uhm… you’re not going to write that in your book right? That’s- that’s just speculation! Besides we’re not really public yet, Uhm, h-he’s really great, I can’t think of a bad trait, really, he can cook, he’s wicked with all kinds of weapons, he’s strong, and, handsome, he’s gentle with kids, and animals… He’s always trying his best, you know? Uh-uhm… he built his own house, in Ishgard-“

“I already know all about that, Ishi, I actually stopped by there last week to see if he was there. Besides. every Hero needs their tragic flaw, or they risk becoming as untouchable Gods in the mind of the people. So, give me something to work with, it doesn’t have to be grand, just, something that grounds him back in the common man.”

“But Kizuna’s not a common man- ah… ff..fine, ok, sometimes, uhm, I think… I worry, he makes himself miss out on fun stuff, because he’s worried more about keeping everyone and everything safe. Someone somewhere falls into peril and it’s, his problem now. I can usually make him slow down, but sometimes we both end up really swept up in it… uhm… I don’t know. Oh… my cookie……”

“… I think I can work with that…”

Kizuna belongs to @zombiesockfuckinglovescardfight •v• (and if he wants to add something to this he can! >:3)

[Duo’s OC Ask Game]

[sasslett]

FFXIV Write 2024 Day 2: Horizon

It was with all her courage that Jess placed her foot in her stirrup, hoisting herself up onto her trusty steed and clutching his reins, vehemently pushing down the fear rising in her chest. 

She trusted Helios, of course - he'd never done her wrong, in the year since she'd bought him from Bentbranch, through all the crazy adventured she’d put him through across Eorzea. But, well… that was on the ground.

But flying? In the air? Hundreds of fulms above the safety of the land? 

“Are you ready?”

The Highlander glanced aside to find her Elezen friend grinning at her. He was, of course, the picture of confidence, just as he always was, his smile warming his deep, golden eyes… and warming her heart, as much as she hated to admit it. But it was, perhaps, the onze of confidence she needed. And so she nodded, taking a deep breath and settling herself into her seat…

Only to yelp as Helios flapped his wings and lifted off behind Varrus and Angel. Jess quickly scrambled for whatever grip she could, leaning forward and tightly wrapping her arms around her bird’s neck - earning her a chuckle from her fellow dragoon. 

“Just relax,” she heard Varrus call over the whistling of the winds around them. “Don’t look down, and if you fall, I’ll catch you.”

“Like hells you will,” she grunted through gritted teeth; as kind as the sentiment was, there was no way, should she slip, that he could swoop beneath her and prevent her from plummeting into the bottomless chasm surrounding Ishgard below. 

Ever-so-slowly, she cracked one eye open, then the next… peering down at the churning mists and crying out once more. Perhaps she would have admired the view, the snow-capped mountains around them, the rising sun tinting the skies a deep pink, with naught on the horizon but new lands to explore and new adventures to be had, were she not practically paralyzed by fear.

Why, oh why, had she allowed Varrus and Haurchefant to talk her into this? 

Because, she knew, as she opened an eye once more to eye her best friend, she’d do anything for that damned Elezen. 

And damn him, he knew it, too, as he met her single-eyed gaze once more with a grin. 

“Don’t think too hard,” Varrus encouraged. “Trust in your seat and your steed, and let yourself enjoy the thrill of the air.”

Well, seeing as she hadn’t quite died yet, she slowly opened her other eye, pointedly not looking down as she pushed herself up in her seat… And she had to admit, as per usual, he was right. It was nothing short of exhilarating, finding herself soaring through the frigid Coerthas air, snowflakes gently hitting her face, the only sound the flap of the chocobos’ wings and the wind whipping through her hair. 

She felt a smile slowly creeping onto her face, and she set her reins down upon Helios’ shoulders, throwing her head back and her arms wide as she embraced the freedom of the skies. She couldn’t help but laugh, a feeling of pure joy overcoming her. 

She was flying. She was flying! Up there, she was free… only her and her best friend, all their troubles left below and their eyes set upon the horizon, upon new adventures. And in that moment, that was all that mattered. 

[scrollsfromarebornrealm]

heavensward-- bitter pill

(some time before helping Artoiel out in Coerthas Western Highlands)

Haurchefant had learned that when he was in a mood, it was best for him to identify the source and the reason why his temper was up. To confront it head on, force himself to accept it, and then work with whatever solution he could come up with. Sometimes the resolutions were bitter, but he could always soothe the sting.

Not this time.

The training dummies were in sorry shape, having been the victims of both sword and shield since the Silver Fuller had locked himself in the training room. Yet Haurchefant wouldn’t stop, couldn’t stop. His body moved through the training drills on automatic, his mind racing. The memory of what he’d witnessed this morning stuck on endless repeat inside his brain.

----

They’d been at breakfast—himself, his father, his brothers, and Riven. There’d been no sign of Alphinaud but that was almost normal now, the younger elezen getting up early in the mornings to meet with Tataru. Then the House steward had come in…

“Ser Augustine Truehart requests an audience with you all, my lords. The young lord Alphinaud is with him.”

“Truehart?!” Artoiel exclaimed. “What does he want to see all of us about?” Everyone knew of Augustine, one of the most powerful knights of the city. His skill in combat was unmatched, as was his dedication to Halone. His reputation was a bit checkered however, it was common knowledge he’d defied the Archbishop’s edict against leaving and had gone to train at the Gladiator’s Guild in U’ldah, even becoming a popular Bloodsands fighter. He’d returned to Ishgard some years ago and had won a coveted place in one of the more elite paladin orders. Rumors had it that he’d been tied with both Zephrim de Valhourdin and Aymeric de Borel for the positions of the Very Reverend Archimandrite of the Heavens’ Ward and Lord Commander of the Temple Knights. Edmont nodded to the steward.

“Give them leave.” He instructed. The servant bowed and left. Moments later the dining room door opened. Alphinaud was the first to walk in, with Augustine trailing him. There was a look of determination on his face.

“My lords.” Alphinaud stopped and offered a bow, Augustine mirroring him. “I beg pardon for disturbing you.”

“No apologizes needed.” Edmont replied. “Ser Truehart, you honor us with your presence—and I admit, have sparked some curiosity. Have you come here to issue a challenge to my sons again for the upcoming tournament?”

“No, my lord.” Augustine answered, a faint smile appearing on his face. “I will not be participating in any tournaments soon. Which I confess, does rob me of the chance to spar with the lords Fortemps and Fuller.”

“Come to Camp Dragonhead, friend!” Haurchefant invited. “I am most certainly eager for a rematch, and perhaps you will show me some of the Ul’dans’ tricks!” Augustine offered a faint smile at that, but his eyes flicked to Alphinaud. There was…anxiety in the paladin’s eyes, Haurchefant realized. His interactions with Augustine had always been brief, but never had he seen the paladin be nothing but stoic. A quick glance around the table showed him that both Artoirel and Emmanellain had caught the uncharacteristic display as well.

What’s going on?

“Ser Augustine approached me early this morning, which resulted in us having to speak with Tataru.” Alphinaud broke into the silence. “He has…come to a decision, which we both have said yes to—and covers a topic we had been debating with you, Riven.”  Riven blinked at that, tilting her head. Alphinaud turned to look at the armored Hyur.

“Augustine?”

“As of today, I have joined the Scions of the Seventh Dawn in my full capacity as a paladin of Ishgard.” Augustine declared. His pronouncement was met with surprise from the Fortemps men—but Haurchefant noted, minimal from Riven. Which would make sense, she and Augustine had crossed paths before. The paladin continued.

“I was…made an offer to join, back when I was a Bloodsands gladiator in Ul’dah. Thancred Waters sought me out, having correctly deduced that I also carried the same gift as the Antecedent and Riven. I refused.”

“The Echo.” Artoirel breathed. “Ser Truehart! You…” Augustine’s bicolored gaze flicked to the older Fortemps son and he nodded.

“Yes. The Mothercrystal blessed me with its’ gift when I was younger. But as I grew older, I feared that I would be taken up for heresy by the Inquisition. I left Ishgard not only to expand my training in combat, but to try and find a way to control my power.” A rueful smile made Augustine’s lips twitch. “I had great success with the first…not so much with the second.”

“Life would be significantly easier if we could control the Echo.” Riven said, offering her own sardonic smile.

“Why did you refuse the Scions’ offer?” Edmont asked, frowning.

“I had learned the Broken Blade had begun their search for aspirants.” Augustine answered, naming his paladin order. “If I had joined the Scions, I would not have been able to return home and continue following my dream.”  He exhaled.

“I…had to choose.” His gaze lifted, casting around the room. “Something that I have…always felt guilty for.”

“Tis not guilt you should feel, Ser Augustine!” Haurchefant exclaimed. “If anything, the timing was wrong!”

“Indeed.” Alphinaud asserted. “Having you join us as a general man-at-arms, especially at this moment is a great boon. And…well, regarding the other matter…” The white-haired elezen glanced at Riven, who blinked.

“Other matter?” She repeated. Augustine looked at Alphinaud. The Sharlayan scholar nodded. The paladin inhaled, steeling himself, Haurchefant noted with surprise. Squaring his shoulders, he marched away from Alphinaud, heading to Riven’s seat at the breakfast table. The brunette watched him advance, confusion written all over her face.

“Augustine?” The paladin didn’t reply, stopping to stand next to her. “What…what are you—what are you doing?!” The last part of the sentence came out in a yelp as Augustine suddenly knelt before the chair. One hand went to grip the hilt of his sword, the other rested on his knee, and his head bowed.

“My lady Salder, Hydaelyn’s favored daughter and Warrior of Light. I offer to you my service freely.” One could hear a pin drop in the dining room. “I commit to your command my sword, my shield, and my life. I give into your keeping my fealty and service, which under the eyes of Halone, can only be released by your will, gross misconduct, or my death. Your enemies will become my enemies, your allies will become my allies. Allow me to be the bulwark between you and all harm.”

-----

Exhaustion rolled through Haurchefant. With a shaky sigh he pulled his sword free of the dummy, idly watching as straw and wood finally gave up the fight to stay assembled. Both tumbled down to sprawl across his feet, sad little splinters and mangled husks. Sweat rolled down his face, chest and back, and Haurchefant closed his eyes.

I…cannot…  Oh, the jealousy and rage that had suddenly overtaken him at that moment. The nerve of Augustine, the fucking gall for him to presume to take a place that he…could not have. Dimly Haurchefant could remember Riven’s protesting—

“Augustine—no! I’m not…worthy of such…”

His father had moved then, quickly pulling Riven away to talk with her. He’d shot Haurchefant a look for him to come as well—but Haurchefant had disobeyed, rooted to his chair, staring at Augustine. Artoirel had stepped in, and the trio had left the room briefly. Alphinaud had followed. Whatever they’d spoken of it must have convinced Riven, for minutes later she’d returned…

Walked over to the paladin, shy and twisting her hands—but then she’d squared her shoulders too, straightening her spine and looking at him…

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

And all Haurchefant could do was watch, bile boiling in his stomach. Raging against the fact that he was already forsworn—to Halone, to Ishgard. Bite back the anger that it was he who had been supporting Riven from the very start, not this…prettyboy knight. He wanted to be the one swearing fealty to her, he wanted to be the one joining the Scions! He…

Was forsworn and he knew it. He could no more leave his post than a tiger could change its stripes. He’d laid in his path long ago, fighting tooth, nail, and claw to carve out a place for himself in his home, in his family, in his father’s heart.

Timing, Alphinaud had said. Haurchefant had to admit the teen was right, even though it was a bitter and hard pill to swallow. He had been perfectly placed to help Riven and the Scions…just as Augustine had been perfectly placed to become her sworn-knight. There was no better man to protect her from the prowling wolves of the nobility and church.

But it hurt. It hurt so much. And alone in the training room, Haurchefant had to admit why not even the thought of Riven’s safety being in good hands could ease the pain.

He liked her.

He loved her.

But it was never going to be.

--------

(a thank you to @saesama and @chysgoda for helping me figure out paladin oaths!)