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autumnslance · 4 years ago

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What I’ve actually been working on for a bit over a week, now that the Zenos brainworm has been evicted. Back to Stormblood 4.0 and two besties having a post-sparring chat about current crushes and past regrets. Below the cut for those who prefer Tumblr to Ao3:

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Lyse and Aeryn fell on their backs onto the palm of Rhalgr, laughing as their early morning sparring session ended in a draw.

“Maybe we got a little carried away...But you have to admit that was fun,” Lyse said, lolling her head in Aeryn’s direction. “You’re getting better at hand to hand.”

“C’oretta’s been putting me through my paces. Got to keep up with her energy,” Aeryn replied, staring at the now-blue sky, the sun high enough over the mountains to have burned away the last of the early morning colors.

“I should practice with her more then,” Lyse said. “When we’re done with...all this.” She vaguely waved her arm, before letting it flop back to her chest. She kept watching Aeryn. “So what are you going to do once we’ve saved Krile and freed Ala Mhigo?”

“Nap,” Aeryn said immediately, setting off another round of giggles from them both.

“Oh-kay, that’s fair. But after that? Or maybe before?”

“If you’re going fishing you’re going to need actual bait, Lyse.” Aeryn turned her head enough to grin at her friend.

Lyse grinned back and rolled to her side, propping up on her left elbow. “I’m just asking, if there’s anything--or anyone--you’ve been thinking about.”

Aeryn frowned for a moment, looking to the sky again. “...Not particularly.”

Lyse wrinkled her nose. “You’re a terrible liar. C’mon, Aeryn, you can say it.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” she replied, her hands briefly gesturing from the wrist only before dropping back to their resting spots on her stomach.

“Right, because you didn’t spend half our time in the Far East writing letters to and talking and thinking about certain charming rogues.”

Aeryn didn’t reply, her brows drawing down as she frowned more.

“Aer-yn.”

“What do you want, Lyse?” Aeryn sighed, turning now to mirror Lyse, propped on her right elbow.

“For you to admit whatever’s going on in your head concerning—”

“Oh don’t—”

“Thancred,” Lyse finished. At Aeryn’s wince and blush, she grinned again. “Aha-ha! I’m right, I knew it.”

“We’re friends—”

“So are you and a lot of other people, none of whom make you look like that.”

“...Like what?”

“You’re not just blushy, you’re...I dunno, like someone’s knocked the wind out of you, but in a good way. Your eyes practically glitter when you’re looking at him. Which is a lot when he’s around, by the way.”

“You’re exaggerating. Also we’ve seen Thancred for a whole, what, half a bell since we returned?”

“I know what I saw. What I’ve been seeing, every time you got a letter. Or wrote one, for that matter; you even write to him differently than you do to Rashae or anyone else.”

Aeryn rolled her eyes, but the blush had deepened and crept up her ears and down her neck. “You know I don’t--It’s not that easy--I…” she frowned again, trying to organize her thoughts, but from the thoughtful little crease between her eyes, Lyse knew Aeryn was now truly considering it.

“And you believe you messed up with Haurchefant,” Lyse said quietly. Aeryn didn’t respond. “That’s why you don’t realize what’s been happening.”

“And what, pray tell, has been happening?”

“You acting like a besotted schoolgirl, that’s what.”

“I am not.”

“Oh yes you are. And it’s adorable.”

“Take that back.”

“I shan’t,” Lyse replied in sing-song. Her smile quickly faded and it was her turn to sigh. “I didn’t want you getting involved with him when you first joined the Scions, you know,” she mused. “One, I knew you weren’t interested, and two—well, I’d known Thancred too long.” They both snorted and giggled again.

“But,” Lyse finally continued once they’d calmed. “You two have always had a rapport. You got to be pretty good friends, and I don’t know, it seems like with everything since finding me and Papalymo again, and then after Minfilia left...It’s become something else and it’s...nice.”

Aeryn didn’t answer right away, staring at some spot on the stone palm between them, and for a moment Lyse began to think she had definitely overstepped when Aeryn finally replied, very quietly, “It feels nice.” She frowned and looked at Lyse again, her grey eyes dark. “Things have changed but I don’t know that it’s,” she stopped and thought for a moment. “I don’t want to...ruin anything.”

“I have a hard time believing you could ruin anything, even if you tried.”

“You’d be surprised,” Aeryn said, rolling onto her back again. “I tried relationships when I was a girl in Thavnair. Twice. Neither worked out because...well…”

“You don’t like sex.”

Aeryn winced at Lyse’s bluntness. “It’s not that I don’t like it, it’s just...not something I look for. It’s fun in the moment, but not a priority. And for a lot of people…”

“It’s important,” Lyse said. “So you think any relationship is doomed because you don’t have the same wants as other people?”

Aeryn nodded.

“Hrm. Well, I’m no expert, but seems to me that’s one of those things you’d just have to talk about. That whole being adults...thing.” Lyse waved a hand again, gratified by Aeryn’s small smile in response. “Which you likely just weren’t experienced enough for all those years ago, right?” She paused, frowning. “Orrr, is this also about Haurchefant?”

Aeryn covered her face in her hands and made a frustrated noise. “Gods, if I could purge those rumors and stories and the damned songs about that…” She sighed again and let her hands drop to her chest. “It...was sort of like those earlier attempts. He was kind, and I knew how much he cared for me, and I guess I...tried to reciprocate. Confusing his feelings for mine, maybe? Sometimes it’s hard to tell.”

“You mean because of the Echo?” Each Walker’s Echo was a little bit different, and Aeryn’s made her especially empathic at times, Lyse knew.

Aeryn nodded. “Probably didn’t help that everything after Ul’dah was just...I was lonely, and scared, and I thought…” She shook her head. “I was stupid, and before I could apologize and fix it...Well.”

“You are far from stupid.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t make stupid mistakes.”

“Well, sure. Still, you couldn’t have messed up that badly.” At Aeryn’s cringe, Lyse raised a brow. “Come on.”

“I did sleep with him—once.”

“Really?” Lyse rolled onto her stomach, chin propped in both her hands.

Aeryn rolled her eyes. “It wasn’t...It was a stressful day.”

“You’ll have to be more specific. Your idea of a stressful day is different from other peoples’.”

“Fair.” She grinned at Lyse. “I had to babysit Emmanellain de Fortemps.”

“All right, that does explain a lot.”

“He got himself kidnapped by the Vundu…”

“Of course he did.”

“I went ahead, while Honoroit ran back to get aid--so, Haurchefant and a couple Haillenarte knights--and that was the day we learned about Bismark, as Cid rescued us with his ever-exceptional piloting before we were eaten.”

“That is a stressful day, even by your standards.”

“We stayed the night at the Rosehouse, there in the Sea of Clouds. Haurchefant came to my room--he claimed he had some nightmare that I had gone to fight the primal and had to see if I was all right; an irrational concern--”

“I don’t know, it’s what you do.”

“Well, yes, but not--anyroad, we spoke, and...held one another; not uncommon. But I felt as though something in me just...broke, and I wanted...I don’t know. Comfort? Closeness? ...I fear I may have simply used him…”

“I doubt that,” Lyse said gently. “You cared for him, right?”

Aeryn nodded.

“Well there you go. You had a vulnerable moment like any of us mere mortals,” she ignored Aeryn’s latest eyeroll. “It happened. And given what I’ve heard of Haurchefant, it couldn’t have been that terrible.”

“It wasn’t! But...As soon as he left—had to ‘protect my reputation’ or whatever—I realized...I didn’t,” Aeryn huffed as she paused in thought again. “I loved him, but not...like that. I couldn’t give him what he wanted.”

“And what’d he say to that?”

“That’s the thing; we never got to talking about it. I...avoided him for a bit after that, just to get my own head straight, think about what I wanted to say and why...and then we went on our mission to Dravania, and then it was just one thing after another and…” Her voice cracked. She took a breath and shook her head. “I regret not taking the opportunity to be honest with him.”

“Makes sense. And I can see why you’re hesitating to open up like that again. You’re afraid what you’re feeling is a reflection of Thancred’s feelings.”

Aeryn made a face. “I wouldn’t go so far as to presume what he feels—“

“I would,” Lyse stated. She smirked at Aeryn, then shrugged. “Before I would have said this is one of his fleeting infatuations. Buuut I’ve been watching since we rejoined you all in Mor Dhona, and he’s been...different.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well if I didn’t know better, lots of what I hear about how he behaved, up ‘til about Papalymo and I got back to the Toll, sounds like he was flat jealous.”

“Of what?”

Lyse scoffed. “Of other people being interested in you, of course. Not that you notice that ever. There’ve been talks he and I have had, where I look back and realize there were multiple meanings going on and I hate that he can’t just talk plainly like a normal person, but anyway the biggest one was when we did see him briefly in Castrum Oriens before he went off to find Krile.”

“He seemed normal to me,” Aeryn said, though she was pointedly not looking at Lyse.

Lyse recalled how Thancred had turned and smiled, his shoulders lifting as if a weight had been removed from them; not unusual in anyone, really, when the Warrior of Light walked by, but something about Thancred had lit up from within, and his uncovered eye had practically devoured Aeryn head to toe before simply settling on her, like someone basking in a sunbeam in the bath. In all the time Lyse had known him, he had never looked at anyone like that. And Lyse had known Thancred through some of his earliest attempts at relationships, when the experiences and emotions were all new (and Yda had teased him so much back in those days, before Lyse herself really understood what was happening), as well as more recent ones as an adult he had no real serious interest in.

“Well, he wasn’t normal,” Lyse said, uncertain how to explain it all out loud. “Neither were you, for that matter. If you’re acting like a schoolgirl, he’s just as bad.”

“Ugh!” Aeryn sat up, wincing a little, resting her arms on her half-drawn-up knees. “I still say you’re exaggerating.” She looked away. “...And given my Echo, it’s possible just one of us reflecting off the other.”

Progress, of a sort. Lyse sat up too. “I still say I’m not, and I don’t think so. Know how I know?”

“How Lyse?” Aeryn glanced at her friend, brows drawn into a helplessly annoyed expression.

“The way you were in the East when he was nowhere around,” Lyse reminded her. “Writing him letters, and excited to get his personal reply along with the reports. You wouldn’t even realize you were mentioning him, or telling stories, and the way you sounded and looked when doing so. And I know you were thinking about him other times, too.” She smirked as Aeryn went crimson again.

“...Fine. Maybe. It’s still...weird and makes no sense and doesn’t mean anything.”

“Means a whole lot, actually. You did say earlier that it felt nice.”

“Yes but...He’s a friend, and a colleague, and he...well…” Aeryn made a helpless gesture.

“Oh no; use your words!”

Aeryn let out an exasperated noise. “I don’t want to make the same mistake again,” she blurted finally.

“So, don’t,” Lyse shrugged, chin on her hand, elbow propped on a knee. “You know what went wrong with Haurchefant, and those others when you were younger. Thancred’s a smart man, and more considerate than he lets on. You can figure it out.”

“I don’t know that I should. It may not be a good idea, given...everything.”

“‘Everything’ like what, exactly?”

“Like, that we live and work together as Scions. That we’re in the middle of a war--which, by the way, we really ought to be meeting the others--and just…everything.”

“You mean being the Warrior of Light.”

Aeryn sighed. “Gotta admit, there’s a lot of...a lot, with it. Most of it I don’t even want.”

“Or it’s all the more reason, given who else outside the Scions really knows what you do?” Lyse shrugged as she got to her feet and stretched. “Food for thought, at least.” She reached down to offer Aeryn a hand up. “I think it’s a good idea, for the record,” she said as she hauled Aeryn to her feet and into a hug. “But that may be because I want to see my friends happy.”

Aeryn returned the embrace. “Thanks, Lyse. Let’s get cleaned up and meet the others.”

She was deflecting again, but that was all right; she was at least thinking about it now. Lyse nodded in agreement. “Thanks for the practice; I know I feel better.”

They negotiated the massive stone wrist and forearm to reach the entryway back into the old temple, then down the long, twisting stairs to the base. On emerging from the old door at the literal foot of the statue, they were met by Resistance runners delivering updates on matters in the Lochs, and a request from General Aldynn to return as soon as possible now that Alisaie and the other injured were safely in the Reach.

Lyse sighed as the runners left to make their next deliveries. “Guess cleanup can wait. If we teleport to Ala Ghiri we can meet Pipin and the others there and head to Praetoria together.”

“Good thing it has to wait, since Naago’s already there,” Aeryn said, a sly smirk on her face as Lyse stumbled.

“Wha—? I don’t know what you--Since when did she okay you calling her that?”

“I’m just pointing out that you call her that. Often. And I’m thinking maybe she can help you clean up since you’re so familiar.”

“Aeryn!” Lyse gawped.

“What?” She asked, all fake sweet innocence, hands clasped behind her back as she rocked on her toes.

Lyse peered. “Maybe you do notice more than you let on,” she muttered. Then shook her head. “I’m the Commander of the Resistance now, which means Na-M’Naago is my subordinate--don’t you dare!” she threatened, wagging a finger as Aeryn bit her lip, though that did nothing to suppress her giggles. “And it...it wouldn’t be proper or professional or...or something…” Rhalgr’s sake, now Lyse was the one feeling hot and blushing; her skin must have nearly matched her dress.

Aeryn patted Lyse’s shoulder as she buried her face in her hands. “I think no one’s going to care.”

“You know what? I take it all back; you’ve obviously spent too much time with Thancred already. Any more and it’s irresponsible levels of corruption.”

Aeryn laughed. “Don’t poke if you can’t handle getting poked back, Lyse!” She wrapped her arm around Lyse’s back and gave her a quick hug. “Though I do think you two are cute and I definitely know what I’ve seen is not me projecting,” she stage-whispered, grinning.

Lyse side-eyed her, trying very hard to be grumpy. “You’re lucky you’re my best friend and I love you or I’d kick your arse so hard right now.”

“Like you didn’t half a bell ago?”

“That was a draw! I could have had you!”

“Probably!” Aeryn sang, adjusting so they were walking arm in arm as they crossed the Reach toward the aetheryte.

Lyse grumbled, but couldn’t help smiling, too. This had been a nice reprieve from everything else going on before the final push to Ala Mhigo, and hopefully saving Krile along the way.

Alphinaud joined them at the aetheryte, grinning in that cheeky way he had when he had gotten the last word in on his and Alisaie’s latest verbal spar. Just to playfully annoy him, Lyse lightly punched him in the arm while Aeryn ruffled his hair before she initiated the teleport to Ala Ghiri for all three of them, to get back to the business of the war.

Despite that, Lyse knew that at some point in all this mess she was going to have to catch and play Little Sister to their resident sneak and probably just straight up bully him into admitting what he was thinking and spur him to do something about it. These two idiots would be happy one way or another, dammit, if Lyse had her way.

And if nothing else it might distract them from Lyse’s own love life issues. One could always hope, anyroad.

#Final Fantasy XIV #Lyn Writing #Stormblood #Lyse Hext #Shippy Nonsense #Thancred Waters #Haurchefant Greystone #Thancred x Wol #Haurchefant x WoL #Aeryn Striker

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jenovahh · 3 years ago

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The Honey Pot - Ch. 22 - The Echo

You stare at Elidibus, confused, yet intrigued as his query strikes a chord within you. “The Echo?” you parrot back at him, your rush to eat breakfast before your usual spar with Zenos forgotten. “I’m afraid I haven’t. What is it?”

Elidibus maintains his easy smile, ruby eyes twinkling with the unknown. “You’ve been thinking about what I had said last time, have you not? About your paranormal abilities?”

Furrowing your brow, you stare at him, concerned. “How do you know--”

“In Gyr Abania, you had given thought to what I had said, and actively tried to use your powers.” He cuts you off, gaze boring into you as your distress grows. “Until that point you had unknowingly triggered it, reaching deep within to call forth a power you didn’t even know lay inside you.” Releasing your arm, his hand falls limply at his side. “It is amazing you have remained out of his sight this long...though I suppose for how your abilities have manifested, it would be easy to keep a low profile…”

Your face breaks up, not understanding what he’s saying. You feel as if you should cry, but you do not know if it is from sadness or fear or anger. He keeps speaking in riddles as if he knows who you are, but won’t say a word about it. “What do you know about me?” You ask, practically begging with the desperation in your tone, reaching to clasp his hand between yours. “Do you know something about me? What is the Echo?”

Elidibus glances down at his hand clutched between your own, flexing his fingers slightly. A look of pity pulls at his features as his free hand comes up and rubs against the back of your own, his skin soft to the touch and smooth like porcelain. “I suppose there is no harm…” he trails off, eyes looking off to the side for a moment before they glide back to you. “Very well. You are free to do as you wish in the evenings, correct?” He asks, to which you nod in affirmation. “Excellent. Meet me out in the gardens this evening, after you’ve eaten your supper. Then, I will explain what I can.”

Giving you a final, reassuring pat on your hand, he pries his from your hold, crossing his arms behind his back. “If you worry about either Lord Varis or young Zenos, do not worry, I have way ways.” He finishes with a small smile. Nodding, he makes a little shooing motion. “Go on, I’m sure I’ve delayed you enough. Surely your breakfast is getting colder by the second and I know Lyngsath detests microwaves.”

Nodding, you purse your lips together turning around, heading straight for the kitchens. When you take a quick glance behind you, Elidibus is still there, eyebrow raised as you shake your mind free of thoughts and head straight for your destination.

When you greet Lyngsath it is absentmindedly, giving him a silent wave as he deposits your still warm breakfast on a plate before you. Thankfully Lyngsath is understanding and doesn’t take your sudden silence personally, merely setting a warming cup of tea with two cubes of sugar next to your breakfast and going on his way, leaving you to your thoughts.

Your mind was going malms a minute trying to think of what The Echo could possibly mean; and what it meant for you. Elidibus had always seemed strangely cryptic, but now more so with his recent actions as if he was using you to prove a theory of his. Would he shine light on why you felt a strange sense of ease, a weird sense of familiarity around him? Did he know you as a child?

Did he know what happened to Minfilia?

Your silence as you stewed in your thoughts of course did not go unnoticed by Zenos, though he refrained from commenting on the matter. You could tell he desperately wanted to ask, but for reasons unknown he kept to himself. You wonder what he must think of you, his bodyguard, once so confident and sure, now looking as if they might break from the strain of their job.

If only he had known you had never signed up for any of this.

Somedays you wanted to bawl and tell him everything, especially that night he had held you as you cried. You wanted to tell him how you were just a girl looking for answers on her missing friend, joining the police in hopes of climbing the ranks to find clues. And instead, you had gotten yourself involved with possibly one of the largest crime lords in history, with no way out to tell any kind of news station or authorities without putting everyone at risk.

To top it off, your only comfort was in the arms of the son of said crime lord, who you may or may not like more than you had originally planned.

“You’ve been quiet all morning,” Zenos begins, drawing your attention from the reflective ceiling above. He had been scribbling away at some documents or whatever for a while, and it looked like he had finally had enough of the quiet. However, his phrasing put the ball in your court, said as an observation and not an outright question.

“Yeah.” You respond, sparing him a glance. He hasn’t looked away from his desk yet, and you sigh, wondering what you should say. “Just...a lot on my mind.”

“It’s unlike you to not speak it.” He responds swiftly, his pen moving with ease across the paper. “I will not pester you, but I will also not allow you to drown in your grief.” He flips the paper over into his pile of finished documents, beginning to work on the next. “You always become this way around death. You have been blessed with an innate talent for combat, but lack the heart to truly revel in battle.”

Frowning, you glare at him from your space on the couch. “I enjoy fighting.”

“Enjoying the battle is the same as truly reveling in it.” Zenos responds, as if it is the most obvious thing in the world. To him, perhaps it is, for you’ve already gathered that he experiences things so much differently than you. Tempering your anger, you take a calming breath and keep a cool head.

“What do you mean by reveling in the battle? Do I seem upset when we fight?” You ask, genuinely trying to figure out what on earth he could mean.

Zenos pauses his writing to gaze at you from beneath his lashes, almost stealing your breath away. “I must answer your question with another: What do you feel when we fight?”

He gives you a moment to think on it, to analyze your feelings about your previous duels. Most mornings you’re just focused on the warm up and the comfort of routine, even back when you hated him with every fiber of your being. Deep down you couldn’t deny you looked forward to your sparring each morning, having never found anyone near your level of skill. Whether it be grappling each other until someone was flat on their back or Zenos’ practice blade at your throat, you always found yourself having fun and enjoying the match.

“I feel...happy.” You admit, the words sounding strange but no less truthful. Really, there was no other word better to describe it. Looking at him he seems almost surprised by your response, but he quickly schools his face back to one of indifference.

“But you do not feel the rush of blood? The time between the seconds?” He questions, staring at you fiercely now. There is a passion in his eyes you have only seen a few times, capturing your attention entirely. “To revel in battle, Honey, is to give yourself over completely to your desire to fight. Even in our tamest of duels, I experience a bliss that I cannot attain anywhere else. Whether it is the feel of your fist connecting with my face, the sound of my own breath as I push my body to keep up with your own, there is no greater joy than giving myself to battle.”

“Well that doesn’t sound so bad--”

“I wasn’t done.” He cuts off, eyes pinning you in place. He gains a far away look, as if lost in a fantasy. “I confess, I often think about what it would be like to be on the receiving end of your rage; to experience firsthand the flame of your fury as your hands wrap themselves around my throat and snap my neck. To feel my blade slice through your flesh and bone, to know the grueling pain of your hand breaking my arm--”

He releases a shuddering sigh, one that almost bordered on lewd. “Oftentimes in the early days of when I had started as my father’s hitman, I would give myself impossible odds. I had entire swathes of gang members at my disposal, but nothing could stop me from entering hideouts with nothing but myself, and my sword.” He smiles as he loses himself in his memories, eyes twinkling. “I would return home covered in blood, always scaring the house staff, but happy. Each brush with death, each time I barely escaped with my life, I felt such bliss.” His smile falls. “And then one day, nothing. I felt nothing.”

While listening intently, your concern mounted with each word, but especially at how defeated he had sounded at the end.

“Perhaps I had desensitized myself to the thrill. It was not until I had met you that I had met that same feeling once more.” He gives you a surprisingly warm smile, a feeling of affection so strong that you could not mistake it for anything else.

"It is a wonder you're still alive given how you placed yourself in danger." you comment, unsure how to really respond. What did it say about him mentally that the only way he could feel was when his life was in jeopardy? That his father cared so little for him that it didn’t matter to him that his son returned home drenched in the blood of his kills?

"I am a warrior without equal," he responds, as if it was a force of habit. However, his eyes turn ravenous upon you, the flame of desire burning within them. "Or, so I had thought."

Feeling warm beneath his gaze, you decide the ceiling is suddenly interesting again. "Well, I'm glad that at least I can calm you down from doing anything stupid." You tease, trying to turn the conversation back toward lighter spirits.

"Would that I could say the same for you, my beast."

The severity of his tone is enough to catch your attention immediately, watching as he slowly stands from his desk. He slowly strolls around it, prowling toward you with measured steps as he doesn’t let you break eye contact for even a second.

As he nears your place on the couch, you move to sit up but he’s already keeping you in place with one hand as he braces himself to hover just above your prone form on the couch. One hand rests upon the back of it, while the other rests upon the arm where your head is. Like this, his hair slips from its resting place upon his shoulders, wisps of the golden strands tickling you even through your clothes. You're painfully aware of just how large he is, his broad shoulders leading toned biceps. A muscled back leading the way to shapely glutes.

Your legs part without you realizing it but there is no hint of smugness in his gaze, only a need to possess, to claim. "Zenos?" you murmur, tongue swiping across your lips in an unconscious show of nerves, eyes gazing up at the Garlean as he crowds even closer.

"Do not go and do something stupid." He hums, eyes searching yours as if daring you to speak against him. "Your behavior as of late has been concerning. You have become driven, but dangerously so." His beautiful eyes narrow on you scrutinously. "Are you planning something?"

Swallowing thickly, you once again find it hard to lie to him. You weren't a huge liar in the first place, but his constant honesty made you feel nothing but guilty for even the whitest of lies. "What would I even have to plan?" you whisper, taking your hands to reach for his wrists, gently rubbing along them.

"Ever since I had told you my father could be responsible, you have acted strangely." He comments, shifting his hands to where they now rest on either side of your head and his legs trap your own between his. "You cannot afford to do anything to him. Not from your position."

Something in the way he emphasizes you specifically hints that he knows something you do not, a feeling you're getting quite tired of. However, he's right; there's no way you can take down Varis solely from Zenos' side. His own father has seen fit to not keep him apprised of his own machinations as of late, leaving both of you in the dark. His campaign trail would be starting soon, and you couldn't afford to waste any time looking for scraps of info while he prepared to get into a position of power.

"Even now I can see the gears in your head turning." Zenos huffs, grabbing you by the chin and fixing your focus to him. "You are planning something. Something stupid."

Face crumpling with indignation, you huff back at him. "Planning is a bit too advanced for a savage isn't it?" you sneer, knowing he can feel your pulse pounding beneath his fingers.

"Your savagery doesnt make you stupid," he chuckles, rubbing his thumb along your chin. "But your inability to quash your feelings and think rationally does."

Offended, you shove his hand from your face. "Have you ever thought your inability to feel has alienated you?"

"It's cute, the way you try and strike back at me, my beast." He laughs, the hand you swatted away reaching down for your left thigh and hitching it on his hip. "I believe I've shown myself quite capable of having feelings. The only difference between us is I am in control of mine." He shifts his right arm to brace his weight upon his forearm instead of his hand, bringing him steadily closer. "I have no need of shame, or fear." The more he speaks the more you are enraptured by him, mesmerized by his voice even as he lays your heart bare before you.

"How do you see right through me?" you ask, breath ghosting across his lips as you hitch your other leg around his hip, pulling him to you.

Unable to resist temptation, he kisses you, lips hungry yet moving slowly across your own. Your legs tighten around his hips even as he pulls away."I see only what you allow me to." He grins, flipping his hair from his face. "You've convinced yourself for so long I am some unfeeling monster," he growls as his left hand begins to untuck your blouse from your pants, "buy I have always made my feelings clear. You have been ignorant to them."

"That's not true," you insist, despite arching your back to allow him to free the fabric from your backside as well.

"Oh? Then what would you call me saving your life in that dump the night we met? Did I not feel interested?" He questions, voice like a balm over your senses, pulling you deeper and deeper into his spell. "When I had learned of your first kill, did I not feel pride?" Your arms loop around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair as he leans closer, burrowing his nose against your neck and breathing you in. "Do I not feel something too strong for words when you are in my arms?"

His tongue licks a sensual stripe on your skin and you moan despite him barely touching you. "You...I want to hate you. So badly." You whimper as he roughly shoves your pants down a sudden burst of impatience.

"Don't." He responds, as if it is that simple. "Merely stay by my side, and belong to me." He demands, but it comes out as a whisper, a secret that only the two of you share. Trapped beneath him you are arrested by the earnest look in his eyes, a determination that mixes with traces of desperation as if he is convinced you will abandon him. "Promise me."

Reaching up to caress his face, your heart twinges in pain, finding it hard to deny him. “I promise.” You breathe, trapped in his eyes as he once again presses his lips to your own, the kiss passionate, but charged with so much feeling it is overwhelming in its intensity. It should frighten you how far you have fallen for this man, your heart already knowing the words your lips will not speak.

So you touch him instead, letting your hands rove across his body as clothes are shed and you’re pressed face first into the leather of the couch, your skin sticking to it uncomfortably, but not so much so that you would even think about pushing him off you as he fucks you into it. The door is locked but employees are still in the building, and even the possibility of someone getting close enough to the door to hear how you wail for your boss to fuck you harder does nothing to deter this need to show him you won’t be going anywhere.

At least, not while he’s watching.

The hour is late; all of the housekeepers and maids have gone home, tending to their own families while you creep out your room and try to sneak to the backdoor. Moonlight pours in from the windows by the grand staircase, the halls eerily quiet to the point it is slightly unnerving. Hazarding a cautious glance at the winding stairwell, all seems well, praying to whatever gods will listen that both Varis and his son are asleep.

Creeping through one last hallway, you flash your badge at the backdoor, allowing you to slip out into the backyard without the security alarm giving you away. The grass is lush even beneath your slippered feet, the winter chill biting into your skin, making you huddle further into your puffy coat. Glancing over the garden, all that remains are a few choice evergreens, but the majority of plants lie dormant, waiting to bloom in the Spring. Given that the majority of plants are currently without leaves, you find that you cannot spot Elidibus immediately.

The garden is still well lit, but you find you cannot find the Emissary anywhere. Biting down on your lip, you trudge further into the garden, the sprawling grounds somehow seeming larger in the cover of night. You are drawn to the fountain in the middle, eyes gazing at the turbulent waters, losing yourself in the memory of Zenos’ arms bringing you close and pulling you from its murky waters.

“Deep in thought?”

You nearly jump out of your skin at the sound of Elidibus’ voice, losing your footing as you slip on the smooth stone that makes up the fountain, bracing yourself for a chilly bath that does not come. Unclenching your eyes, you find ruby ones staring back, realizing Elidbus’ arm is looped behind your back as he saved you the trouble of having to explain why you had hypothermia in the morning.

“Well, I suppose that answers my question. I thought you would have sensed my presence.” He hums, setting you to stand up straight, his touch gentle and sure. This is the most contact you’ve ever had with him, at least physically, and the fact that it feels familiar somehow unsettles you. Visibly so.

“Careful, Honey. Eorzeans have a saying that if you make a face, it’ll get stuck that way.” He laughs to himself, ruby eyes twinkling with mirth. Staring at him, he is still dressed in one of his trademark, white suits, as if it is not nearly midnight. He looks as clean and coiffed as he does any other time, making you feel a little ridiculous for being out in the cold in your puff coat and pajamas.

“What do you mean...sense your presence? Don’t you mean ‘heard you coming?’” You frown, brushing yourself off, trying to fix your hair so you don’t feel nearly as crazy in comparison.

His eyebrows raise up into his hairline, before his lips twitch as if to grin. “Perceptive.” He finally does smile, except it feels so familiar and warm and...as if he admires you. “I’m glad to see that has not changed about you.”

Frustrated, you shove past him and march toward a nearby bench, deciding to sit down. “You keep saying that-- that you know me or something. But I’ve never met you until you came here.” Staring him down, you put on your bravest face, trying your best to be mad at him. “I want answers. Why did you call me here?”

Shrugging, Elidibus turns to face you, grin leaving his face. “Very well. I will answer you to the best of my abilities.” He begins, sliding his hands in his pockets, looking relaxed and at ease. “The Echo. I asked what you knew of it, correct?”

You nod, and he continues. “Judging by your silence, you were unable to find anything out about it, which is good. In truth, it is a wonder you have lived this long without finding trouble…” he murmurs, seeming to think on something for a moment before returning his focus to you. “But I digress. Let me present you with another question then; do you believe in magic?”

Pursing your lips, you think about your experiences as a child. Like any country, Hingashi had its share of magicians, from cheap parlor tricks to professionals who had their own shows. You knew it wasn’t really magic, that something within you said you would know magic if you really saw it.

Having your answer, you shrug. “I don’t know. I’ve always felt ‘magic’ isn’t real magic.”

Chuckling, Elidibus nears you, pulling his hands from his pockets. “An interesting answer...which will make explaining this tale, much easier.”

Waving his fingers, you watch as motes of light shine from his very hands, small and glowing like fireflies in the dark. They swirl into a galaxy, a beautiful, blue-green star appearing at the center of it all. “In a time before time, did mortals live for an age. Society was nothing the way it was now. Technology had reached a point of advancement unheard of on this star. The very sky was littered with creatures of all shapes and sizes. But most importantly...the people had the power to create.”

The lights change into spiring towers, much like the skyscrapers of Kugane, but the architecture was unlike anything you had ever seen. Robed figures walked their streets, clutching crystal-like shards to their chests, conversing, living.

“The Ancients, they were called, such terribly magnificent beings they would seem to the mortals of this age. Able to create concepts on a whim, breathe life into creatures and inventions unheard of. This was not an ability given to a select few you see, but a gift bestowed upon all in that world. Surely such power would cause strife would it not?” He pauses for a moment, his voice sounding strangely fond. “No, it was not so. The Ancients took their power to create and used it to further their society. All were equal in this world, even those on the Convocation.”

“The Convocation?” You ask, watching the lights change to match his story.

“The Convocation was a group of fourteen people, chosen to head academia for the entire star.” Elidibus explains, his voice taking on a note of sadness. A group of fourteen figures in robes stand in a circle, all of their robes black save for one in the purest white. The city shimmers brightly behind them, creating a dazzling image. “The best and brightest minds the star had to offer, gathered together to push the star into a new age.” The lights change, the hues of blues and greens changing to oranges and reds. “The best and brightest, gathered together to save the star from certain doom.”

You watch mystified at the panic; the ash and fire as the Convocation scrambles about, their faces looking lost and full of despair. “The laws of life itself were being unwritten, the Convocation at a loss of what to do. It was then that the idea of summoning a god to save them from their peril had been given, but only at the cost of civilian lives.” Elidibus’ voice is hardly above a whisper, his eyes seeming almost as transfixed on his story as you are.

“Yet there were those who stood against such an idea, calling the others cowards for placing themselves above their friends, their colleagues. Were they not all created equal? For what reason were those on the Convocation exempt from sacrifice? Could no one else ascend to their seat?” The robed figures visibly split apart, the divide in how to proceed clear. “It was with this contention that the Convocation had split in two, each summoning their own god. One, from the lifeforce of civilians, the other, with the lives of those who abhorred the very idea.”

Figures of light twinkle into existence, one tinged with a deep, dark purple, the other shining a striking white light. “The gods had warred and fought, both doing their best to fulfill the outcry of their people. But it would be the ones who sacrificed themselves who would win in the end. To save the star, the god had severed the star into bits, saving it the only way they knew how.” The blue-green planet returns, visibly fracturing, breaking to glistening shards of dust adrift in a sea of stars. “It is for this reason that most mortals do not live for more than a century, that the art of magic is lost to time…” The image vanishes, your eyes snapping up to Elidibus’. “Or so, the legends say.”

Confused, but intrigued, you hang on his every word. “What does that story have to do with the Echo?”

“The Echo is what remains of the Convocation.” He answers, coming to take a seat next to you. “Legend says that over history, that across the many shards, the spirits of the Convocation persist. They manifest in different ways...Othardian legends such as Azim and Nhaama were rumored to have the Echo, for they were of the sun and moon, gaining spectacular powers based on the respective time of day.” Shrugging, he brushes a stray hair from his face. “Or perhaps you have heard of Krile Baldesion, a scholar a few centuries ago said to have the power of clairvoyance.”

Giving you a small smile, one you could almost call boyish, he gives you with a knowing look. “Or even someone named Honey, gifted with supernatural combat skills and strength.”

Standing to your feet, you stare down at him wide eyed, shock dancing through your veins. “A-Are you saying,”

“I’m not saying anything, Honey.” He murmurs, voice carrying to you on the night wind. He stands with you, taking a solitary step toward you that has you taking one back. “It is merely a legend after all; whether you believe it or not is up to you.”

The wind blows but you do not feel its icy sting, too focused on trying to make sense of what the Emissary has told you. He wouldn’t make you come out here just to mess with you, he doesn’t seem the type, but it makes no sense. Those images; he had created those, he had used magic. The Echo, did he really think you had it? What did it mean for you?

Wanting to scream, you opt instead to let tears silently roll down your cheeks, as you feel that once again, you are way in over your head. Something bad is going on, something bad, and you landed yourself right in the middle of it. “Why did you tell me all this?”

Elidibus stands there in silence, his eyes giving off that strange glow that you know isn’t a result from the lamps that keep the grounds lit even at night. He regards you with a sudden seriousness you had never felt from him before, gaze unflinching as his lips part for his next words: “I believe even you can feel a certain...attraction between the two of us Honey.” He crosses his hands behind his back, eyes taking on a darker note. “Not in the way you feel for Zenos, oh no, but a magnetism that despite us never having met each other, it is as if we have known each other our whole lives.” Tilting his head back, his gaze could only be described as intrigued. “Perhaps, we knew each other in a past life.”

The lights on the grounds flicker, wind howling loud in your ear, the breeze numbing your legs and killing any feeling in your face. As the lights get darker, the wind louder, you finally bring your arms up to block the abrupt gales, the last thing you see being ruby eyes in the dark before the lights go out entirely. The wind stops as fast as it came, rays of light shining through your arms as you finally lower them to find yourself alone.

Looking around, Elidibus really is gone, leaving you with more questions than answers. Frustrated and sleepy, you stumble your way back into the estate, unaware of ice blue eyes watching you from on high.

“We’re here, ma’am.”

Looking up from your phone, you lock the screen as Yuyusho pulls into the driveway of the Garlond estate. Much like home, the flowers and shrubs all lie dormant, biding their time until Spring. You’re not surprised to find that Cid is not outside waiting for you, dressed in some khaki shorts and a tacky, tropical shirt. Stepping from the car, you bid Yuyusho your goodbyes and a promise to be ready for him to pick you up in no more than two bells.

The door opens as soon as you press down upon the lever, making you silently pray that Cid doesn’t carelessly leave his doors unlocked as you step inside. Toeing your shoes off, you switch to your designated slippers, trying to not let your eyes dwell too long on a familiar large pair that sits in the cubby that has begun to collect dust. Taking a deep breath, you place your shoes in the cubby alongside them, making sure the door locks behind you and heading deeper into the house.

With as big as his house is, there’s no telling where Cid could be within it. As many times as you had been over here, you actually hadn’t had the chance to explore the sprawling grounds, usually chatting with Cid for a while in the kitchen before Estinien would surface from his hermit cave and fetch you to go train. “Cid?” you call, knowing that if he was on the other side of the estate there was no way he was hearing you. “Cid?” you call again, ambling down a random hall, hoping that you might just happen across him.

The house is quiet much like Varis’, except it doesn’t have the white noise of maids and such shuffling about, ensuring not a speck of dust lands upon his prized possessions. As you make your way deeper into the house, the rooms become less for leisure and more for business, beginning to house robots and magitek instead of plush lounge chairs and expensive cigars. One door catches your attention, clearly shut, but it doesn’t stop you from seeing if it will open.

With a simple touch of the button on the wall, the door slides open, cool air brushing over your face as the sounds of beeps and whirrs assault your ears. Before you stands a large piece of magitek of some sort, covered in a glossy, black paint, standing taller than it is wide. It looks as if it made more for battle than for peace, seeming out of place amongst the other things you’ve seen Cid create. Surely enough, it does belong to him, for the Ironworks logo is emblazoned on the side, though instead of neatly printed, it looks as if it was messily spray painted on.

“I see you’ve found Maggie.”

Spinning around, Cid stands behind you, leaning one broad shoulder on the doorframe as he gazes at the tall robot before you. “A real joy that one. Bet you wonder what I’m doing with an old war machine, huh?” He asks, pushing himself off the frame and stepping into the room, allowing the door to shut behind him. Dressed in some comfortable cotton pants and a matching t-shirt, you realize that this is the most casually dressed you have seen him. His usually brushed hair is now unkempt, his keen eyes watered down by obvious fatigue.

“She was my first piece of rebellion, that one. Wanted to prove to my father that there was more than just conquering and war and the glory of Garlemald.” He sighs, stepping past you, his eyes having never left the polished metal. “She’s made for battle. Made to withstand firing enough ammunition to bring multiple platoons to their knees.” He gently runs a hand along its leg, staring intently at the logo embellished on the side. “I had made her better, instead turning her from a war machine, into one capable of rescue.”

Pointing toward its center, you follow his line of sight to where a metal claw protrudes from the front. “With the amount of power she had, it was easy work to make her capable of moving entire tonnes of rubble to free trapped civilians. I was only twelve at the time.” Arm falling to hang limply at his side, he stares up at his trophy, a mix of bitterness and grief in his eyes. “My father hated it. Told me it would never find favor with the emperor.”

Frowning, you stand there unsure what to say, or how to comfort him. “I’m sorry.” An apology is all you can offer, wringing your hands together as he finally turns to face you.

“There’s nothing you need to apologize for.” He smiles, though it does not reach his eyes. “Come. Let’s go get us some wine to drink, hm?”

Deciding it best not to argue, you follow him out the room, silent the entire way as he makes his way to a sitting room furnished with two chairs and a fireplace he lights with nothing but a spoken command. Immediately, the room is further warmed by its crackling fire, but Cid goes the extra mile to offer you a downy blanket to help fight off the chill as the entire back wall is made of glass allowing you to see the rest of the grounds.

“I was surprised to hear you had wanted to visit.” Cid begins, grabbing two glasses from the counter and reaching for a bottle of wine. “Or rather, that you specifically had requested to visit. I had expected Varis to do something as underhanded to send you over to try and squeeze some info out of me when I am at my lowest.”

Heaving out a dry laugh, you graciously accept the glass of wine offered to you, burrowing further into cushy chair as you stare blankly into the fire. “I wouldn’t put it past him either, if it’s any consolation.” You joke, watching as he comes to take a seat in his own seat. Taking a sip of the wine, you let the flavors wash over your tongue, doing your best to seem sophisticated, but sure enough it tastes like...wine.

“In that case, I must ask, what is the reason for your visit, Honey?” He asks, taking a quick glance at your neck. “I see you are missing a certain piece of jewelry. Wearing something a bit less...conspicuous, perhaps?”

Shaking your head, you giggle, unable to mope for too long around him. “No, and if anything that really lets you know I came for myself and no one but myself. He is too busy on his campaign trail to pay me any mind.” You take a long sip, hoping it makes what you’re about to say a little bit easier. “I can’t lie that I did come over with ulterior motives but...really I also just wanted to ask how you were holding up.”

You don’t break eye contact with him, knowing the pain of loss in his eyes is reflected just as strongly in your own. Cid is the first to cave, a hand roughly dabbing away a tear that had managed to escape as he takes a long chug of his wine. “I would’ve gotten something stronger if I had known you were going to ask that.”

Genuinely worried, you watch as he finishes the rest of his glass in one go. “Cid? Are you...have you been drinking?”

Giving you a haggard glance, he has the sense to at least look guilty and ashamed before standing to his feet to lumber over to the counter, tilting the bottle lazily to allow more wine to pour forth. He nearly drains the bottle to where his glass is completely full, taking a sip to ensure none will spill over the edge as he makes his way back to his seat. Gingerly sitting, he keeps his glass upraised as he allows the chair to catch his weight, sighing deeply as he does so.

He takes another long swig, nearly draining a third of the glass before finally setting the glass on the small coffee table between you. “Maybe I should have grabbed a cigar…”

“Cid.”

He still looks ashamed, but you only display your concern, unable to judge him given how poorly you’ve been coping. “I’m...I’m hurting too.” Your voice cracks as you say it, vision warbling as tears catch on your eyelashes. Your face scrunches tight as you sniffle, a sob breaking free from your chest. “I miss him too.”

It hasn’t been long, barely even a month, and yet the pain has shown no signs of ebbing. The loss of Estinien still feels as fresh as it had when you both saw him be killed before your very eyes, your hearts struggling to accept that he really is gone.

Cid begins to tear up as well, spiraling into a sob much faster than you, hand coming up to cover his eyes as he sinks into the chair and lets it all go. The two of you cry and cry, able to share your pain with the only other person who could. With no next of kin, no friends, no coworkers, the only ones who would remember him were the two who at least ensured he didn’t die alone.

Quiet sweeps over the house as you dry your eyes, dabbing at them with your sleeve. You feel better, if only a little bit, unable to sob so openly at home without feeling like Zenos would break down your door and demand to know what's wrong. Cid dries his own eyes with a handkerchief, his breaths shaky and rough. “Gods...I think you needed that as badly as I did, huh?”

Nodding, you find while you can’t give voice to your feelings, you agree all the same.

“Thank you for that, Honey.” Cid reaches for his glass again, but decides against it, settling to thread his fingers together and get comfortable. “I loved him, you know. Like a little brother.” He mumbles, losing himself in the dancing flames. “I knew he could be more than just a thug. He had the skills to be more. And he was.” Shaking his head, he finally drags his gaze to you. “He loved you too.”

It stings just as much to hear it from Cid as it did from Estinien’s lips. “I know.” You whisper under your breath, unable to look at him, the two of you knowing just who you had chosen instead. “It’s why I want to avenge him. I...he didn’t deserve to die.”

Cid shrugs defeatedly, reaching for his glass absentmindedly and taking a small sip. “He was my bodyguard. I willingly put him in the position to put my life above his own. Was part of the job description.” He huffs out a weary laugh. “If anyone’s to blame, it’s me.”

Shaking your head, you nearly crush your glass in your hand. “No. It wasn’t you.” Lips pursed together, you debate on whether or not you should say anything. You weren’t going to get anywhere by hesitating, and hesitating is exactly what got Estinien killed in the first place. “It was...it was Varis.”

Cid’s expression turns to be deathly serious. “Honey. That’s a severe accusation.”

“Do I sound like I’m not being serious?” You snap back, placing your wine glass down. “Varis was responsible, I know he was. Who else could it be? What other enemies do you have that would be so vile as to try and have you killed?”

Cid remains quiet, as if he wants to say something but is holding himself back. “Still,”

“Like that stuff they shot me with. I was still conscious. I could still feel the cold floor, could still hear, could still see. I just couldn’t fucking move--” your mind threatens to take you back into that moment: the regret, the pain, the trauma, but you press it down, “--I couldn’t move. It felt like my very being was being restrained.”

Cid only shakes his head, groaning as he begins to slouch. “I had hoped it would never come to this…” he mumbles, staring into nothing. “That wasn’t a tranquilizer they shot you or Estinien with.” He regards you wearily, blue eyes tired and not just from lack of sleep. “It was a destabilizer.”

“Destabilizer?”

“Does exactly what it says on the tin.” Resting his head on the back of the chair, he stares blankly at the ceiling. “The point of it is to render you helpless by causing your aether, essentially your life force to become unstable; it specifically targets you at level far past molecular. It targets your very existence and Varis is a fool and a coward for using it on you just to ensure his cronies didn’t kill you off before you could kill them.”

“Wait,” you sit up fully, truly grasping what he’s saying. “You knew it was Varis who had done this?”

“Who else could it be?” he slaps his hand over his face, dragging it down roughly over his beard. “And not for the reasons you think mind you. You see Varis and I have a long history, Honey. We are connected through my father.”

If there was ever a time to back out, it would be now.

Cid continues, ignorant to your inner turmoil. “Remember how I told you my father did research for the Empire? Well, it was a half truth.” You watch as he sits up straight again and reaches for his glass, clearly needing more liquor to get through this. “For a time, he did work for the crown directly. Until Garlemald finally threw in the towel that its days of colonizing and glory had long passed, and to take on a more...approachable image. This meant that my father’s more interesting projects could not be allowed to continue.”

“He was formally let go by the Emperor, but still had one of the best gold stars on his resume that you could get as a pureblooded Garlean. He found fault in the then Emissary’s decision, and continued to do his research in private.” It’s a wonder Cid hasn’t started to slow down at all given how much wine he’s downed, already you’re starting to feel the warm buzz of it beneath your skin. “It was when Varis had gotten into his late teens he had heard of my father’s studies, and used the crown’s money to secretly fund my father’s research. As you know I had already rebelled against my father’s ideologies, beginning to forge my own path. Had I taken but a moment to try and talk some sense into my father…”

Standing to your feet, you cross over to Cid, placing a comforting hand on his own. The look he gives you is appreciative, flipping his hand over to clutch yours in his own. “You don’t have to talk about such painful memories.” You tell him, unable to deal with the regret in his voice. He had made it seem like he had made peace with his father’s death, but in truth, it seemed like it tore him apart like nothing else.

“While I appreciate your concern, I don’t mind talking about it.” He urges, giving your hand a firm squeeze. “It’s therapeutic to tell someone else; for so long I had no one else to tell. Save Estinien.” He gives you a reassuring smile, coaxing you to return to your chair. “He’d want me to keep going.”

Nodding, you return to your seat, but not before grabbing the blanket he had offered you earlier, getting snuggled up. Cid takes a deep breath, preparing himself to continue. “Varis and my father had entered a parasitic, yet mutual business relationship. Varis would show up with a check, and my father would show his latest findings.”

“Sorry to interrupt, but I must ask…” Taking a deep breath of your own, you let the question fly past your lips. “...how do you know about aether?”

Frowning, Cid looks plagued by too many sins for one to bear. “Aether is what my father researched. It is what he provided to Varis.” Groaning he leans forward, cradling his face in both hands. “My hands are as dirty as Varis’, Honey. Not from supporting the acts themselves, but for my own cowardice.” He sounds on the verge of tears, shoulders shaking as he tries to hold himself back.

“My father...he had found in his research that a certain demographic of people were immune to his studies on aether. The test subjects he had subjected to his experiments, they had all rejected anything involving aether. It would imbalance their very makeup, most times killing them.” Bitterly laughing, he runs a hand through his hair. “They were just a few gang members, right? Misfits and rejects. Unwanted children. Who would miss them?”

“But it was this way he had stumbled across the Echo.”

On the edge of your seat, you hang on his every word. “The Echo?”

“A myth made reality.” Cid explains, as if it’s nothing. “There are strange forces at work in this world, Honey. Forces that give people extraordinary, dare I say, supernatural abilities. I am a man of science, as was my father, but there was no refuting the hard evidence that a select few were birthed with something special about them.”

“It is merely a legend after all; whether you believe it or not is up to you.”

“There are people with...the Echo?” You urge Cid, desperate for him to keep going.

“There are. Well. If there are any left.”

That statement alone chills your blood to the bone.

“What...what do you,”

Cid pins you in place with a grave stare. “What I am about to tell you...promise me you will never tell another soul. Promise me, Honey.”

Nodding, you feel the weight of your own promises pile high. “Not a word.”

Satisfied, Cid clasps his hands in front of him, resting his elbows upon his thighs. He hasn’t looked away, hardly even blinked. “I’m not ignorant to Varis’ more underhanded dealings. I am sure of the things he has you do.” He pauses, having to breathe a calming breath before continuing. “Those who have the Echo are said to be descendants of some of the very first beings from a time before time. A world so far away and long ago that is beyond our comprehension. Mere shells of their former selves according to the stories, but no less amazing and awe inspiring to the average man.”

“And it is for this reason Varis had hunted them down and experimented on them.”

Your hands slowly reach up to cover your mouth as it hangs agape, tears pricking the corner of your eyes as you realize Cid is completely serious.

“I am not a good...I’m not a good man, Honey. Would that I even had an iota of your courage...the people I could have saved…” Cid does cry then, too overwhelmed by his own shame. “I was still mostly a child when I had left home, crossing over to Kugane when I was only nineteen. I had sworn off all that my father had done, not just because I despised his methods, but because I was afraid.”

Tears stream down his face in a river, catching in his beard. “When I had finally resolved to try and bring to light the atrocities my father had committed, Varis had already risen to great power with his own business...and my father…” He chokes out a sob, “--he had been killed. Murdered in cold blood by one of his own experiments, and when I had returned home to Garlemald to give him a proper burial, I thought to make things right by at least turning Varis in. But I was too late. All of his research, his labs, everything, had been reduced to ash.”

"I had nothing, nothing to prove my father or Varis' crimes. It’s haunted me for years, and will continue to do so to think of all the innocents I let disappear due to my own cowardice…" He buries his head in hands, running his hands through his hair like a madman. "I fear I am beyond saving."

Staring into the fire, the sound of screams fill your ears. "You said...Varis has been abducting people...for years?"

"Yes." Cid’s voice sounds further away. "Anyone suspected of having the Echo, stolen from their beds under the cover of night…"

"You must hide."

Minfilia's panicked voice wakes you from your sleep, her arms wrapping around you urgently as she pulls you from the bed. But a child of eleven years you have grown too big to carry, but she does as best as she is able. "Minfilia?"

Your head is pounding, the memory fading in and out of your mind.

"I can't explain, my dear." Tears stream down her youthful face, Minfilia, who has always looked so mature to your childish view but is still a child herself. "But I need you to hide. Hide and don't make a sound. Not one peep, do you understand?"

"But why, "

"Promise me!" She shrieks before quieting her voice, quickly urging you into the bathroom. Grunting she grabs the small vanity and pulls, revealing a small crawl space within the wall. "Get in."

Darkness seems to close in around you, your breath caught in your throat.

There's a chorus of male laughter, the sound of several feet shuffling into the apartment. "We heard you had a gifted kid here...figured we'd take em off your hands."

"You're looking for me?" Minfilia asks immediately, her own footfalls soft and delicate compared to what must be huge men.

"You're a bit old to be a kid, huh?" The masculine voice asks, seeming to pause. "You ain't hiding anything from us, are you girly?"

"Search the apartment you'll find I'm alone," Minfilia takes a deep breath, "I had no way of knowing you were coming."

Your head won’t stop pounding and your lungs are struggling to breathe.

"Looks like your apartment is clean, but unfortunately for you...I can't go back empty handed."

"W-Wait,"

You hear a struggle, your tears starting anew as you press yourself against the vanity.

"Let go of me!"

"Let’s go boys. Maybe the boss will be happy to have some fresh meat to test on."

With small, grubby hands you do your best to push against the small vanity, weeping silently as you continue to hear Minfilia’s struggle. She’s crying, you can hear her, you have to help--

“Honey!”

Cid has you by the shoulders, grasping you fiercely, looking nearly distraught. As he realizes he’s pulled you back to the world of the living, he hardly even relaxes. “Honey. By the Twelve, are you alright?”

Reaching up, you feel dried tears on your cheeks, the skin sticky and taut. Hands shaking, you try to let the memory continue to play, but it won’t. Trembling, as soon as you try to force it past your hands trying to free yourself from your hiding place, your head throbs, causing you too much pain to continue further. Your lungs seize up, forcing you to stop trying.

“Honey, please, tell me what’s wrong.” Cid begs, shaking you desperately.

Deciding to stop causing yourself pain, wipe away fresh tears, shoving Cid’s arms off you. He looks noticeably hurt by the gesture, clenching his jaw as he stands straight. Your lungs struggle to breathe correctly as you try to calm yourself down, running a hand through your hair as more pieces fall into place.

The Echo was real.

Minfilia..she was protecting you.

The men who had searched your apartment...she had sacrificed herself to keep you safe.

Varis had to have kidnapped her. Which means...which means…

Standing to your feet, you bring Cid into a bone crushing hug, burrowing your face into his shoulder. He stands stock still for a moment, until his arms slowly wrap around your back and he returns your hug in full force.

“Cid...thank you.”

He knows not what you thank him for, but continues to accept the hug, the two of you needing the comfort more than words can explain. You urge him to do what you cannot: to get help. He might be unable to expose Varis’ crimes, but he could at least talk to a professional about working through his grief over Estinien.

Yuyusho awaits you outside, not at all bothered by you staying thirty minutes more than originally planned. Flashing him a thankful smile, you step into the car and allow him to drive you back home.

Home, where you begin to make a plan about how you were going to expose Varis for the horrors he’s committed.

Locking yourself in your room you immediately sit at your desk, yanking open the top drawer. Lifting the false bottom you find a small SD card, the same card Zenos had nearly crushed with his foot after he destroyed your original phone. Twirling it in your hands, you pull out a burner phone you had managed to swipe from an unsuspecting lackey, popping the card inside. The phone chirps as you turn it on, flipping through the apps until you pull up one of the many pictures on the device.

If you had to guess you must be maybe five or six years old in the picture, Minfilia’s petite frame still supporting you easily. Your face is covered in what must’ve been finger paint, the biggest grin on your face as you reach your grimy hands out toward the camera. Minfilia is all smiles as well, eyes crinkled with joy on her youthful face. She looks as if she maybe in her late teens, every bit a child as you were at the time.

A child who was taken away, never to be heard from again.

Looking back on your memories as a child through the eyes of an adult, you had always found it strange that such a teenage girl was tasked with the care of a child. Your memory is too damaged to recall Minfilia mentioning her parents, if she had them at all. Your own heritage was a mystery, Minfilia being the only thing you knew of having any sort of guardian, and even if she was far too young to take care of you herself, she was the closest thing you had to a mother.

Vision blurring as you start to cry, you continue to flip through the pictures, remembering a time that feels so far away. Those tendrils of warmth you had felt as a child being in her care, remembering her kindness and guidance as she raised you to the best of her ability. During your early teens you had resented her for a while, hating her for forcing you into a life of being a foster child, bouncing from home to home just so some couple could collect their check from the government. It wasn’t until you were nearly out of high school did you vow to find the reason for her disappearance, immediately signing up to join the police force.

You sailed through your training at the top of your class, surpassing men and women alike, your combat skills making you a force to be reckoned with. With the knowledge you have now, you realize it is only due to the Echo that you climbed as quickly as you did. With supernatural reflexes, no one stood a chance.

Resentment tried once more to find its way into your heart, thinking back on Elidibus’ words that in the past those blessed with the Echo had far more extraordinary powers, making you wonder why you were saddled with something so lame in comparison. It was only thanks to the more covert nature of your talents that you had been able to fly under the radar for as long as you had, at the cost of Minfilia’s life.

The next few days are spent pouring over every database you know you can find, unable to ask Zenos for help in trying to solve this mystery. If anyone knew where old records and things were kept, it would be him, but you couldn’t afford to tip him off to the fact you were a cop.

Or worse, the Echo.

What would he think, knowing the only reason you curb stomped him in a fight was due to some quirky ability? Zenos didn’t seem the type to believe in such tales, and would probably laugh about it to his father, who would then drag you to the closest testing facility where you’d never see the light of day again.

Groaning, you slam your laptop shut, throwing yourself onto your bed face first as you scream into a pillow. You were running yourself raw, hardly getting any sleep, often searching databases and old news sites until the sun came up. No matter what you tried, all you hit were dead ends. Varis had already committed enough crimes for several lifetimes, and he obviously wouldn’t suffer for any of them to come to light, especially as he starts his campaign trail.

Flipping over, you stare at the painting brushed onto the canopy of your bed, dragging your hand down your face. Loathe as you were to say it, you had no other choice.

You had succeeded in part of your mission. It was time for a change of paths.

Every foot step seemed final as you strode down the hall, head held high, not out of confidence, but knowing that if you allowed even a moment of hesitation to slip through the cracks in your armor, you would back down and you could not afford that.

Too many people were counting on you.

Those who have been lost. Those who can be yet saved.

Cid’s sins would become your own.

Estinien’s gift of life would drive you forward.

And maybe, just maybe, you could free Zenos from his father’s clutches and live a life of normalcy.

Funnily enough, the thought seems to be the most unrealistic, but it doesn’t stop you as you lightly knock upon the grand, mahogany door, waiting for an answer.

“Enter.”

Pushing down on the handle, Varis sits at his desk, papers neatly strewn across its surface. Dressed in a sleek turtleneck with reading glasses resting upon his nose, he looks surprisingly studious. Arching a strong brow, he regards you neutrally. “An unexpected visit. What do you want?”

Taking a deep breath, you relax your stance and lower your gaze. Erecting a balance of firm, yet demure, you gaze at your boss from beneath your lashes.

“I want to become your bodyguard.”

#Final Fantasy XIV #FFXIV #ff14 #zenos #zenos yae galvus #THP

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astroellipse · 3 years ago

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rambling time :)

Hmmm I realize now why Urianger is actually leaving the party at this point. It’s to force Thancred to actually do something concerning Minfilia. He’s served primarily as her emotional support up until now, with Thancred... idk he gave her a headpat a couple of times. His optional dialogue there was “I will talk to her. When the times is right.” You dumbass the time has been right for an eternity.

Oh and now we get death baited again. I was genuinely afraid the first time that they really killed Thancred. He seemingly had enough death flags for it, unlike with Y’shtola whose apparent death came from nowhere. God... and the hiding his very soul stuff... I wonder if that’ll make a return later. Certainly is convenient, not to mention dramatic. But man this really was bait, he just like, turns up fine later. Kinda dumb ngl.

Wtf I’m tearing up about Minfilia prime again... god...

Oh... OHHHH I understand what’s going on in this vision now! G’raha is reading Count Edmont’s book, and this roegadyn man is Bigg’s descendant... Huh, that’s funny. Two of the stories from Heavensward got muddled. A hero rides in astride a white dragon to save a little girl... The WoL riding into Ishgard on Midgardsormr, and Vidofnir saving the little girl. Fun detail.

?? Did Emet-Selch just SMILE at the WoL? His eyes crinkled. Do his eyes crinkle anywhere else??? Nobody else even saw that I think it might’ve been genuine, even if it’s just to see that the WoL hasn’t fallen apart yet. Like, he smiles in other places. There’s the mocking smiles, and the one last genuine but sad one near the end, but I can’t recall seeing one like that.

Ah. I think this is it. He’s explaining the Sundering.

I love this line and the delivery...

His logic makes sense. It IS relative, in this case. It of course doesn’t excuse the killing of millions and whatnot... it’s simply that the Ascians can’t accept things as they are now. A world without Zodiark is wrong. I wonder if they’d ever accept things as they are now if they weren’t tempered.

It’s silly that the game first explains the true nature of Ascians nowadays in some optional dialogue... the unsundered Ancients can raise fragments to become Ascians themselves, presumably anyone... though only fragments of the Convocation of Fourteen can rise to their respective office, through use of those... memory stones, or whatever they were. I’ll get back to that eventually.

Oh. You can also ask about Emet-Selch’s true name here, and there’s foreshadowing that you may one day learn... mannnnnnnnnn why do they have to kill him though??? The Hades fight is cool, though heart breaking. They bring back every other character, even Asahi to an extent for godsakes... The trailer, iirc, had a voice over from him so... maybe... maybe if we get more into the WoL being Azem... I dunno. I want to hope.

Ohhghhg I regret eating right before this bit with Vauthry downing... meol... ugghyhhh the noises this is awful I can feel my stomach turning :( That whole business... it’s not surprising the story moves past it quickly. Still funny though that they never outright acknowledge that all that was literally cannibalism.

Ah. AH!!!! There’s the line!!!!

So... he recognizes Azem even now. Huh. And what follows... he thinks the WoL would have liked it, Amaurot or however you spell it. He’s being... nice. Oh. That is... a sly proposition. He’s suggesting that the WoL just let things happen, that if they survive they’ll become whole. Of course Emet-Selch would want that, to have his friend back...

And now we come to the silliest plot point in the expansion. Really? Just make a giant Talos? Just like that? Even with an entire nation’s people working on it organizing everything and putting together the materials and all should take an eternity.

Duuuude I hate Mt. Gulg. Also this stupid audio effect they have on Vauthry, the echo is too much it hurts to try and understand what he’s saying, even with the text.

Ohhhhhhh myyyyyyyyy gooooooooooood G’raha’s deception is so bad but... it still hurts....... and Urianger... this is the most intense he sounds in the entire game... that “Do not interfere!”. G’raha!!!! You idiot!!!!! Gggghg. OH MY GOD THAT’S HIS RING HAND! HE’S REACHING TOWARDS HIM WITH THE HAND THAT BEARS HAURCHEFANT’S RING.... UNINTENTIONAL BUT GOOD!!!!!!! And finally his hood..... god.... I’m gonna cry again I can nbarely type./.... his inspiratyion...... and HIM EMET-SELCH!!!!!!!! GGGGGGGGGHGFHGH NO. THIS SUCKS SO BAD@!!!!

Ohhhhhh this story is evil. That it should be able to make you feel bad for disappointing Emet-Selch....... I mean it’s true. You weren’t strong enough, and others pay the price.

Seeing all of this... I wonder if Endwalker will attempt to top this level of relevance the WoL has. Suddenly... they are the existential threat. I mean again I suppose they could if they let the WoL take on Hydaelyn’s power as Zenos suggests. I do still hope that happens.

Ah... and again his ring hand to touch Ardbert..... cute... Hey wait why isn’t the WoL allowed to have any real heart to hearts with any of the Scions. Let them be friends :(

... ... wh. Why have they said the same thing? Emet-Selch says to the WoL before they depart, mocking how the world would react to the WoL’s affliction, “There is no hope. We are finished. Mankind is finished.” And. G’raha says this to Urianger once he arrives originally, to convey people’s reaction to the final calamity that befell the Source. I... suppose... Emet-Selch was watching? But that doesn’t make sense, they discuss other information here he doesn’t know. It’s just to draw a parallel, then? Oh. I see. G’raha then expounds on it and makes it something hopeful.

Oh also. It would have made infinitely more sense for it to have been one of Cid’s descendants to assist G’raha in traveling back in time. I can only assume that SE knows their fans well enough to know there would have been a crowd upset at what that implies with Cid, with how much they play around with the rivalry between him and Nero. Very funny thing to notice.

I can’t get out of my head what must have been the WoL’s original plan to reach Emet-Selch... take an Amaro over open water, then just dive in and swim around until the find him.

Ohhggh... I love Urianger his apology is so cute... he’ll stay by the WoL’s side for as along as he is able, if they’re willing to forgive or at least set aside their displeasure... even if they’re a danger to those around them...

Ohh and Alisaie!!!! This is why ShB is so good they actually CARE about the WoL it’s so nice... Oh right, and Urianger actually acknowledges their poorly thought out plan and thinks it’s silly. I don’t remember this from the first time, that swimming that far would probably make them die from exhaustion anyhow.

I saved this as a draft when my internet was being stupid hoping closing firefox would help. It did not. Anyways i came back to close this up and also note. I have been playing GNB terribly wrong for a while now. You’re granted a bonus damage ogcd after every move of your cartridge combo, not just the last one. I’m so stupid I thought it was like, an option of which one to use, but no. GNB is confusing, the combos are like... barely combos you can interrupt them to do whatever and return to them later. I’m looking at the optimal opener and i can feel my brain melting how the hell do I remember this??? I mean I don’t have to yet, I’m not at 80, but jfc. Idk if I’m ever gonna be able to raid like, properly lining up skills during battles sounds too difficult for me. I have a pea brain when actually fighting things case in point that one raid where it makes you do simple addition and division. It made me think 6+4 was 12. It’s hard enough for me as is to not let too many ogcds drift, at least not too bad...

Anyways. going to keep playing but I can wrap this up.

#mmorpg hell

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final-fantasy-mama · 5 years ago

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Rimfire Bubble bath (ch.5)

OKKKKKKKkkkkkayyyyy so, Emet and Wol get into some risky bathtub business. No smut in this chapter but the next one will have explicit content. I am writing it in a separate chapter so those who dont want to read it can skip over it but still get some teasing from Emet in this chapter.

Normally I would insert a Amarout chapter here BUT i only have one more planned so ill save it for a bit later on down the story line. Enjoy!

FFXIV EMET SELCH X MCH WOL

“The tragedy that had befallen you is of your own making. Devine retribution for your defiance. The heavens have bequeathed to you a benevolent savior, me! I offer you freedom from pain and suffering, a paradise where man and sin eater might live in peace and harmony..” ~ Vauthry

The hero growled through clenched teeth with a rage that was uncharacteristic of her usual cool exterior. Right now, she just couldn’t hold it back. Her itching trigger finger reached for her musketoon with a arm that dripped with fresh blood from a shoulder wound gone undressed. Bullets flew from her gun at the dirigibles that flew overhead with Vauthrys guttural and all too arrogant voice coming over loudspeakers to castigate all the poor folk below who had managed to survive his sin eaters onslaught. She knew the bullets would not be of any avail but she prayed that one would find Vauthry’s heart and put an end to that bastard’s life. She kept firing until her bullets ran out and her arm throbbed with too much pain to keep the musket raised.

Around her, the moans and cries of injured Crystarium soldiers echoed in the night as they mourned for fallen friends and comrades. The attack was unwarranted, took them completely off guard and was meant to destabilize and demoralize them. It worked. Even Lyna, the Viera knight, was about to break into tears though she bit her lip hard enough to draw blood in an attempt not to. It was going to be a long night of pain and tears for all them who had survived the evening’s bloodbath.

Someone’s hand reached for her Musketoon as another one gently wrapped around her waist, easing the rage out of her. Emet Selch had appeared at her side, gently taking her gun from her burning hands and whispering soft words into her ear. “You’re injured, inamorata. Relax….it is over.” Only with those words did she realize how much her lungs burned as she hyperventilated, her muscles locked up from adrenaline and sweat dripped from her brow. Like a tight coil she slowly unwound and Emet caught her in his arms, cradling her in his chest as he helped her to sit on the ground.

Her companions ran to and fro helping the injured, pausing slightly to stare at the Ascian and the hero together in a odd moment of intimacy, but having to put it out of their minds as injured soldiers took priority. “There is not much more you can do here tonight.” Emet pointed out.

“I can’t leave until everyone has been removed from the battlefield.” She said in a tired breathy voice.

“I would not expect you to.” Emet said. “But you are no worse for wear at the moment, so I will ever be watching you from the shadows. Whistle for me should you need me.” And with that he disappeared in a cloud of black aether.

*************************************************************

By the time the entire entourage returned to the Crystarium and the chirurgeons had their way with the hero, she had not the strength to even stand on her own. And so it was out of pity, sort of, that Emet Selch carried the exhausted Machinist back to her room in the pendants. She was scarcely conscious when the door to her room opened and he stepped inside with her in his arms, face buried in the side of his coat. Her bandaged shoulder was left oncovered with her white poet shirt draped around the rest of her for modesty’s sake. He set her down gently on the bed, stretching her out so she was straight on her back as he plucked off her antiquated boots and tried to make her more comfortable. She groaned from both pain and sheer fatigue.

“Hero, you need to bathe.” Emet said.

“Are you saying I smell bad?” She yawned.

“To put it gently, you smell like something that may have come out of Vauthry’s gullet.”

“Fuck you.”

There was a small pause.

“You’d find me a willing participant if that was what you desired.” He said in his charming seductive voice.

“Too tired to bother…”She groaned.

“Then allow me the pleasure of seeing you to a hot bath at the very least.” He snapped his fingers and a long claw footed tub appeared in the room along with a fluffy white robe hanging on a coat rack. She made some mangled noise in protest as he looked down at her. She was holding her arms out to him the way a pouty child might to a parent. It was unexpectedly adorable.

“I’m giving you permission to bathe me, nothing more. So no funny business.” She warned.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Yeah you would.”

“Only a little.” He admitted as he helped her stand up and walked her to the tub. She cleared her throat and motioned for him to turn around which he obliged, though not without a roll of his eyes and a loud sigh. Quickly stripping from her clothes and tossing them in a pile to the floor, she climbed into the water and drew her knees up to chest. Her shoulder stung but she managed to not gasp as the hot water caressed it.

“You can turn around now.” She said and he did just so, having a good look at her before taking off his heavy jacket and tossing it on the bed. Rolling up his sleeves, he knelt behind her and brushed her hair to one side, the tips of his fingers grazing her neck as she gasped.

“What are you…?”

“Hush!” he said sternly as he once again snapped his fingers and a bar of soap appeared in one hand, a small handled bucket in the other. He doused her with water as she cried out at the hot sudden sensation and then worked the soap into a lather in her hair. Working his fingers through her scalp thoroughly. She thanked the gods he was not facing her while he administered his ministrations, because she was dead sure her facial expression was nothing short of scandalous. She had never had anyone bathe her, so the sensation of being this pampered was wholly unknown and frankly it made the pit of her stomach tingle.

With her hair now rinsed and clean, Emet’s hands worked their way to her trapezius muscles and he gently pressed into them with his thumbs. She gasped in a way that was a tad embarrassing as her back arched involuntarily, head threw back and knees dropped below the water. Oh twelve have mercy she just exposed her whole front side the Ascian looking over her shoulders. Indeed, he saw the entire kit and kaboodle and his face told her he wasn’t displeased with what he saw. Her cheeks flushed and she quickly scrunched herself back up into ball and buried her face in her knees.

“You are so sensitive, my dear.” He teased.

“Shut up. I’ve never had a massage before.” She grunted.

“Never ever?”

“Who’s got time for that?”

“My my. This is a bit of a problem, if I can’t even touch you without you making such noises and faces.” He coo’d.

“Knock it off, Emet Selch. I’m embarrassed enough as it is.”

“Let’s try something else then. As much as I would love to see more of your erotic expressions….” He moved positions to the side of the tub and took her hand in his. Then he began to rub the flesh around her palm and wrist, the areas where she held her gun and always chaffed or had callouses. She turned her face to side so she could watch him, the position less intimate so she felt more comfortable. Letting out a long sigh, she relaxed and let him massage up the length of her arm .

If she were any other women, she supposed she could take the Ascian to bed, indulge in her self desires, revel in passions of a one night stand. But she was never that type of person. In a sense it was frustrating how others could go through life consumed by their own desires and she could not. She was the warrior of light after all, someone was always going to need her to be at her best so she couldn’t take risks the way others could. She also had her little girl to think about. Come to think on it, Emet also had children in one point in time and she wondered if he had even enjoyed it or cared for his family. He outlived them all with the exception of Varis and Zenos, but it was obvious upon meeting them both that there was no love lost for their Great Grand Sire.

“You keep sighing.” Emet pointed out. “That usually means you have a question to ask or something pressing on your mind.”

“Its nothing.” She said sadly.

“Obviously not if you keep making faces like that.”

“I make a lot of strange faces, as you’ve already noticed.” She chuckled.

“You also keep many things to yourself.”

“No more so than you.”

“As an Ascian I am entitled to many secrets.”

“As a woman, I’m entitled to mine.”

“You’re not as tired as I thought if you can talk back like that.” He rolled his eyes and stood up quickly, however the lady refused to relinquish his hand and yanked him back sharply without thinking. His feet slipped out from under him on the wet floor and he came crashing down into the water on top of the hero. When he surfaced he had the warrior precariously pinned beneath him and hands on either side of her head gripping the tubs rim.

“Oh Hero.” He practically moaned as he gazed down at her. “You need only ask if you wished me to join you.”

She panicked and slapped her hands over his eyes so he couldn’t see anything. “You’ve got the wrong idea!”

“You were trying to drown me then?” He asked with hands still over his eyes.

“It was reflex! I wasn’t thinking!”

He pushed against her hands and swooped down till his face hovered over her collar bone. “So then you secretly want me oh so much you’re limbs act without reason?” His breath tickled her and she squirmed against the tub, pushing herself back against the porcelain as far as she could. His body weight on her legs kept her from being able to escape any further or jump out of the tub.

“I give you an inch and you take a bloody mile!” She complained and kept her hands firmly planted on his face and tried to push him back. Its was futile either way, he could easily overpower her if he wanted. Smarmy Ascian that he was though, he wasn’t going to let her go without a thorough teasing. “Wasn’t our agreement that you wouldn’t coerce or force me to do anything?”

“I am a man of my word. So far you have not said no or stop or tried to put a gun to my head or bullet through me.” He pointed out and pushed again to reach the hero’s neck where he planted a small kiss.

She saw stars for a moment and tried to get her wits about her. Just say NO, just say NO , Just say NO, she chanted in her mind but with each kiss he planted up her neck she felt her mind going more and more blank. If she didn’t figure out a way or excuse to get out of this, she would make love to him then and there and that would cause more problems than solve.

“I don’t see why you resist it so.” He breathed against her neck between kisses. “There is nothing wrong with indulging yourself once in a while. You deserve to have your needs met as much as any other creature.” He nipped at her jawline and she made a small noise. “What I am offering you is oh so simple. Pleasure. No hidden motives, no scheming, no lies, just simple pleasure for two weary souls long since denied any respite in this cruel and blasphemous world.”

The twelve be damned! He knew all the right words and just where to whisper them! And so reluctantly, against her better judgement she dropped her hands from his eyes. His yellow half lidded gaze was the end of her. She did want him the way any woman would want a man. She wanted to experience him and everything that he was despite him being an Ascian. Gods, it had been ages since she wanted anyone, felt anything for any man, and of all beings for her to lust after it had to be Emet Selch.

“The fates are undeniably cruel….”She conceded, something sad filling her eyes as she looked down for a moment but he caught her chin in his fingers and forced her to look up at him again.

“For tonight, it need not be. Lie with me.” He whispered.

She closed her eyes and felt herself slipping away, carried off by the currents of lust and longing. She took in a shaky breath and replied. “Yes….”

#shadowbringers fanfic #final fantasy xiv #fanfiction #emet selch x wol #im a dirty minded bitch #i love trashmen

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honeyandfiregame · 5 years ago

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Werewolf AU, ZenosxMCxDay, part 4

As usual, under the cut. Trying to be healthy but WW!Day is continuing to be a dramatic little shit

-In your heart, you knew you had to tell him. Tell Zenos that Day kissed you, that is.

-Another part of you was nervous, though. You still hadn’t worked out what was going on with Day’s behavior. You couldn’t make sense of it and maybe Day couldn’t either.

-Talk about mixed signals.

-But regardless of what you made of that kiss, it didn’t feel right to not tell Zenos.

-You were sitting at the kitchen island, watching Zenos make you two lunch. It had been a couple days since you last spoke to him, since that kiss with Day. It’s not like you’d been avoiding him, you have a life of your own after all. And you had been avoiding him, just a little bit.

-After a comfortable moment of silence, you said, ”...I haven’t seen Day at all in a couple days.” He seems good at that.

-”He’s good at that,” Zenos unwittingly echoed your thoughts. He glanced at you, eyebrow raised. “Did you do something to warrant that or...?”

-What a perfect opening. Not that you had the courage for it, your heartrate was picking up, but you steeled yourself. “I think I did. Well, I didn’t. Sort of. But... there was something.”

-Now that got his attention, enough for him to fully turn towards you, silently waiting for you to speak.

-You couldn’t look him in the eye. “Day and I kissed.” You almost said he kissed you, because he did. He really, really kissed you. But you definitely participated. Though you’re not sure why you did.

-”Oh.” If there was any emotion in Zenos’ voice, you couldn’t name it. He turned back to slicing the tomato he’d momentarily abandoned on the cutting board. “I suppose that means you want to talk about that. And about us.”

-He was calm about it, taking a seat across from you and smiling that gentle, reassuring smile. His voice, too, was quiet. Like he was afraid of startling you.

-”That kiss,” he started,”was just a kiss. It doesn’t obligate you to me. You can kiss other people.”

-”So you... you want to treat it like just a kiss? Doesn’t mean anything?” you asked, mostly just an attempt to wrap your head around what he was trying to get at.

-But he shook his head. “I think you figured out by now that I am fond of you, in ways I’m not fond to my friends. And I think, just think”—he held his hands up calmly—”correct me if I’m wrong, but I think you feel something for me, too.”

-The silence that followed made his smile a little more strained, but he wasn’t wrong. You kissed him because you meant something by it... but a part of you thinks you did the same with Day because you also meant something by that.

-You just swallowed, keeping your eyes to the counter between you, and let Zenos draw his own conclusions. Intuitive man he, he actually did.

-”...I’m not hearing a no from you. Can... can you look at me right now?” When you obliged, his smile eased a bit, a little glimmer in his eyes. “Good boy. If you need to think about it, I’m fine with that.”

-The tension that had been balled up in your gut the past few days finally felt like it was starting to lighten up, with the incredibly soothing timbre of Zenos’ voice. You looked to him a little hopefully. “You don’t mind if I take my time?”

-For some reason, he looked relieved at you talking finally. “It’s not a simple decision and you seem to feel a little complicated right now. I’m not going anywhere.”

-”And...” He hesitated, his gaze shifting away for a moment before flickering back to you, tension returning to his shoulders. “It might be a good idea to talk to Day. I could try to tell you what I think, but he’s a complicated man, so it’s probably best to hear it from him.” You nodded at that.

-You didn’t even realize how much of a weight that talk with Zenos would lift until after it was over and you left his home with a full stomach and the anxiety just about gone.

-You were glad he was so understanding, but also... he was right. Talking it out was probably the most important thing you could do.

-You finally saw Day again not more than a day later. and he continued to surprise you, because this time he was seated on the patio of the cutest little cafe you’d ever seen.

-That kind of sunny place is not what suits Day at all, but there he was, leaning back in a fancy chair, one long leg crossed over the other and a half-finished piece of cheesecake in front of him.

-When you called out, he didn’t look surprised. He didn’t even look angry. He just stared at you. And then said, “Every time I see you at exactly the place I don’t expect you to be, I feel like I’m having a stroke,.”

-”Sounds serious. Maybe you should see a doctor about that,” you shoot back, inviting yourself to take the seat right in front of him, something he didn’t comment on.

-”You have something to tell me.” It wasn’t framed as a question, it was said with assuredness. Your heart almost stopped.

-”...Zenos and I kissed.”

-”Yeah.” He poked at his cheesecake, looking very much like he lost his appetite. Wait... He knew?

-“Wait, you knew?” you asked but he shook his head, blowing out a breath.

-”I didn’t know all that, but... Come on.” He rolled his eyes. “Even a moron could see the way you fawn over him. Your heart starts pounding when he’s near you, don’t think i didn’t hear that.” He brought his coffee up to his lips, taking a sip. Frowning down at the cup, he set it back on the table and started spooning sugar into it with a little more aggression than it probably needed as he continued, “I know you’re telling me this because I kissed you and you think that that must have meant something, but I’m telling you it didn’t.”

-He sighed and met your eyes. “I don’t know why I did what I did, it was impulsive. And I am sorry for doing it. But forget about it, okay? This is me stepping down. Go. Go, be happy with Zenos. He deserves it.” He waved a hand like he was shooing away a nosy cat, but something was very much off about his attitude. Very, very off.

-”Your mood swings are seriously giving me whiplash...” You mumbled that, you hadn’t even meant to say it out loud, but you did anyway.

-Day’s eyes darkened, a cruel smirk tugging at his lips. “Sounds serious. maybe you should see a doctor about that,” he growled.

-You shook your head. “You’re a dick.” Damn, you can’t leave him alone. For all intents and purposes, you should just leave. Let him be grumpy all on his own, because he surely knows it’s driving people off.

-Wait...

-Day seemed to like your reaction, because his smirk sharpened into something of a grin as he leaned back. “I said that, but I like bothering you and I wanna tell you that that face you’re making right now?” His hand moved down to cup his crotch, giving a little squeeze as his tongue slid along his top lip. “That’ll make great material tonight.”

-With that, and you too stunned to respond, he stood and shoved the remainder of his cheesecake across the table to you with a gruff, “Take it.” He then winked and walked away.

-He was trying to push you away.

-It didn’t hit you until just then.

-’Stepping down’? He was trying to push you away. Acting rude and disgusting like that, he was trying to make you hate him.

-Because he likes you.

-And what the hell does that mean for you?

#werewolf AU #Day #not enough to tag for not safe #but it's a little bit present at the end there #and as usual i didn't proofread

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noblehope · 7 years ago

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Hey! When you get the time/drive, I really want to know what personally draws you to your muse! What is it that inspires you so much? What do you admire in them? What do they mean to you? Just give me a sweet, sweet feelings dump :D

… ah. No one’s ever really asked me this before, I think??? It actually caught me off guard. I’m still hibernating until my days off again but I really want… to answer this now. Though forgive me cause???? Idk where I’m going with this.

I… I really don’t know how to answer this, I’m sorry. It’s a very… hm. Idk, I’m actually not that good at describing stuff when it comes to me personally.

I’m drawn to… Everything about her. It’s weird how important she’s become to me. I’ve had other favorites, other characters I felt a bond with and adored, but throughout my life Sonia’s just been special. Even new characters in new fandoms I get involved in (karma from c/inderella phenomenon, zeno fro a/katsuki no yona) I really can’t explain it unless you have yourself. She’s been a constant in my every day life and I don’t remember how or why it started.

She wasn’t one I was drawn to at first. I remember, I did Twog/ami’s and G/undam’s ftes first. Those were my first “I really like them”. I just… I can’t remember, but by the end I really did like her most of all. She was the one who led me to roleplaying on tumblr, not Sakura. I had… roleplayed a little bit with my bf at the time on Skype as her and Peko, but I liked rping Sonia more. Haha, I wonder… how would this all have turned out if I had chosen Peko instead? I plan on rping her at some point so we’ll see how that goes.

Okay, I looked back on my steam trophies and I see that I completed Sonia’s FTEs on May 6th, 2016. I beat the game on May 12th, and Sonia was the 3rd one I had completed (Gundam first though it would’ve been twogami first if he fucking lived i remember now how i had nyoomed to finish his in island mode, Fuyuhiko second which I remember blazing through during the fun house because of being fucked locked from his ftes and THE 2ND TRIAL UGH I NEEDED TO KNOW WHAT WAS GOING ON IN HIS HEAD, and the final event revealing that he survives somehow but yes)

So yes, of the survivors by that point I can definitely see that she had won my attention since I didn’t complete any others during my run in story mode. But… that brings again, why?

Okay let me ramble on for a second about my other favs of the franchise: Sakura, and Hoshi. They all seem such different characters but I believed it was around mm… this time last year, that I discovered what they all had in common: some kind of self sacrifice.

Hoshi sacrificing his future for revenge, Sakura sacrificing her life for her friends, and Sonia sacrificing her desires and wants for her country. That is a big thing why I adore her, I would say it is the second thing, but we still haven’t reached the root of her importance to me beyond just “everything”, and I do mean Everything, even her flaws, though that’s a topic for another time.

“Do you not agree that dismissing a different set of values due to ignorance is foolish?”

This. This is the driving force behind my interpretation of Sonia, and always will be. This reflects so much in the game. How she’s the one to ask everyone if tying up Komaeda will solve anything, but if it’s what’s everyone agrees to she won’t object. She’s genuinely the only person in game to stop and think about Komaeda even if he is “troublesome” (excluding Chiaki and Hajime), and I spotted that a mile away even when I hated his guts in story mode. It doesn’t matter to her if someone’s ways of thinking is strange, she wants to understand. She wants to know how they think, and this extends to her interest in true crime and serial killers as they shouldn’t be thought of as “mere murderers”, because their reasonings are far more complex than that. It doesn’t mean she will agree with them, but she doesn’t want to dismiss them as just.. unreasonable, because to them they are being reasonable and just have different values. She wants to know the why.

As well though this is just my headcanon, Sonia’s been stalked with the intention of being murdered. It’s cathartic to her to learn about things like this. Again, that’s a topic for another time tho since this is getting way too long.

She’s so… often thought as naive, but that shouldn’t be confused as ignorant. The language barrier doesn’t help. Sonia’s one of the smartest in the cast and I will defend that as truth forever??? She’s so so smart, she’s so talented, like holy shit. 30 languages? All these topics that’s required of her to know because of her being apart of this strange and almost fairytale-like land’s royal family? Like, holy shit.

But, we learn through the little tidbits she gives us Novoselic is far from perfect. You can read in between the lines (um hello? Weapons everywhere despite it being a peaceful nation? Basically raising children soldiers with them knowing how to drive tanks in grade school? An underground blackmarket for creatures we only know are a nobility status and required for courting, and grow/shrink when angered and scared or whatever I think that’s it tho?), and see how unhappy she is with her country with certain things. (Sonia mentions how consuming a Skong is her country’s ritual for her to be recognized as an adult but she refuses to do it) She wants to change her country for the better. It’s time to move forward and Sonia wants to be the one to start it.

There’s also so much she’s hiding from everyone. Her final FTE is her breaking down in front of Hajime, collapsing and sobbing in his arms as she cries out how she wants to go home. How he thinks she’s finally letting herself act like a normal girl, and how before he had thought “of course she’s scared”, when he sees her hands shaking and that being her only betrayal. It’s just…. gahhhh… I could talk about her for hours.

She’s just so… so, so amazing. There’s a fire inside her and just this overwhelming kindness to everyone and she’s so strong. She inspires me. She’s so fun to explore and crack at because I want her to experience everything, and imagining her in alternate universes like siren sonia or serial killer sonia (which um I’ll start up again someday) is so fun, because I always make sure she is still Sonia at her core. I want her to feel, I want her to break, get angry, fall in love, develop both positively and negatively and see how it changes her. I’ve said it before but always kinda jokingly… idk, the best answer to “what does she mean to you” is… Idk, she’s my daughter. Not my waifu, not my lover, not my whatever. A daughter. I love her. She makes me happy. I have a little nendoroid of her??? And I kiss her little head for good luck when I’m going out and feeling nervous, and it’s my favorite thing in this world, I about cried when I got her as it was random chance. I’m… IDK IM CRYING RIGHT NOW. There’s so much to say about her but I can’t say it properly just how much she means to me and why she inspires me so. She just does, she’s not perfect but she’s so wonderfully important to me, not only for my creativity, but like. She’s my rock.

It’s… really something, when you learn so much both about the world and yourself through roleplaying and researching a muse. And, just what I’ve been through, it’s all because of her. I don’t think things would’ve been the same if I had chosen someone ese to roleplay first… I’ve had people compare Sonia to me, and gosh is that a delightful feeling that makes me smile. She’s radiant and makes people feel at ease, and it’s a blessing to know I evoke the same emotions and people feel strongly enough to make a comparison. That I’m doing something right. I don’t think she is me, I’d never use the word kin, its just… idk? Being compared to someone you really care about is an amazing feeling. It makes me want to keep doing what I’m doing.

But ahh… I’m, rambling so much and Idek if I’M MAKING SENSE? I love her, I really love her, and nothing comes close to what ideas she’s given to me and what peace she brings as well. Like okay, Ik it’s fun to shit on ko/daka a lot but I’m so thankful for him bringing her into existence. Ughhhh I’m crying and CANT SEE ANYMORE so maybe this is where it should end. Please just know I absolutely adore this character and I am honored that I bring her to life for people through roleplay and invoking emotions (being proud of her, being scared for her, etc, not only just cause Sonia but gosh is it powerful when you know people are moved by your writing) through that, that I can bring others to appreciate her (even Sonia haters to liking her, which is such a feat) and love her too. To make people understand her a bit more and how many layers, some even contradictory, she has. I really really hope this makes things a bit clearer even if it’s a mess of emotions, and that it’s the sweet sweet feels dump that you wanted.

there’s so much more i can say but i figure this is enough

#〚》𝔾《 straight from the horse’s mouth ( out of character. ) ✧ 〛#〚》𝔾《 there’s a rainbow somewhere and it’s a beautiful day ( mun info. ) ✧ 〛#tulpacest

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ladyramora · 7 years ago

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- - -

To bring Zenos Yae Galvus ill tidings was a death sentence.

But to bring news that his own attempts were met with disdain? Terrifying.

Fordola rolls her eyes at the crowd of cowering imperials.

"What news have you brought?"

One of the braver imperials steps forward, a square of thick parchment in hand that he extends to her with trembling fingers. "The Warrior of Light has sent a return response."

Fordola plucks it from his fearful hands, raising it to her eyes and scowling heavily at what she finds.

"Go," She barks. The crowd scatters like many scared mice in the presence of a hungry cat.

Fordola rubs at her face, sighing with dread. That leaves it to her to deliver the message.

- - -

Zenos is frowning already when she enters. Daunting to be sure, but Fordola has already made her presence known. To leave now with no explanation would be a show a weakness.

There was nothing Zenos hated more than weakness.

She walks to the steps leading up to his throne, kneeling with her head lowered as she waits for him to acknowledge her presence.

"Speak," Zenos says to her after a prolonged moment of tense silence.

"My lord," Fordola starts, tilting her chin up but avoiding his eyes. This is hard enough without looking into his eyes. "I bring news of the Warrior of Light."

Zenos leans forward. "Oh? Tell me then, what have you for me?"

Fordola curls her fingers over the bit of parchment tucked in her palm. Perhaps she should lie. But she hesitates over long and Zenos notices.

"It is not only news you bring. You have something. Something from the beast I mean to court." His interest is clear, but there is also that undercurrent of threat if she does not show him - and with haste.

Fordola swallows her uncertainties and forces herself to ascend the steps to his throne. To extend the square piece of parchment to him.

Zenos accepts it, the sharp points of his gloved fingers scraping over her skin. Fordola turns to descend again, to leave before Zenos can read it and surely take his feelings of irritation out on the bearer of bad news.

"I did not dismiss you, Fordola." Zenos says. Few simple words, but enough to turn her blood to ice.

"No, my lord. Forgive me."

Zenos hums.

Fordola turns, expecting him to stare her down with those bloodthirsty eyes. To draw his blade and cut her down for daring to leave without his say.

But Zenos is not looking at her. He is staring instead at the parchment.

He is... not angry?

No, instead he is smiling. His eyes flickering over the parchment as he reads. His head tilting back in a low, throaty laugh at what is written there.

Fordola admits his reaction is rather confusing. Even more so that she knows what it says.

'Zenos,' the parchment reads in suspiciously red ink. Insulting, to address him so simply without his titles. Forward - by using only his first name.

'Do you think you can fool me? That your 'presents' will win me over? You're going to lose. I'll make certain of it by cutting down every last one of your batallion. And then I will come for you. P.s. : Eat shite. '

And then there's a much too detailed drawing of a butt.

Fordola did not know what her lord saw in the Warrior of Light. Strength mayhap. Manners? Certainly not.

She watches as he brings it to his face, hears the sound of his breath as he breathes in.

"Written in blood," Zenos says, chucking to himself. "A flair for the dramatic, have we?"

Fordola has never seen him smile in this way. Overly wide, showing his teeth. It was terrifying.

Enemy or no, Fordola does not envy the Warrior of Light. To garner his attentions was something to be feared. Every last one before them had been cut down when his interest had waned.

Mayhap this time would be different, but Fordola suffered no such illusions.

Zenos tucks the parchment into his armour, that terrifying smile still stretched across his face. He laughs and shakes his head.

"Fordola."

Fordola snaps to attention. "My lord?"

Zenos strokes his face. Still smiling. "Prepare mine next offering."

Fordola groans internally. He would continue? The Warrior of Light was not at all responsive! 'Eat shite' was not a romantic overture.

Still... That smile. Ugh...

"...As you command, my lord."

What about something where Zenos hears that a person fights hardest when they love another, or similar, and decides to try to love the wol in an attempt to become even stronger, perhaps after it's clear that the wol will soon be on his level? Ah, the internal struggle of him actually falling in love fighting his beliefs on sentiment-so sweet! XD

(Well, here’s what I’ve got so far. The first bit! This one, I have a feeling, will be rather long and probably increasingly silly. For some reason I had that song Genghis Khan in my head as I was writing it, haha.)

Zenos lounges on his throne, face cupped in his hand as he strokes at his lips in a thoughtful manner.

Love, he thinks with eyes narrowed. Staring off in the distance as he thought but well aware of the discomfort of Fordola, who knelt before the stairs leading up to his kingly seat.

“Fordola,” He finally adresses her after an appropriate time of making her suffer in silence.

She jerks, “Yes, my lord?”

His eyes slide to look at her, still stroking at his face in thought. “What are your thoughts on love?”

Fordola frowns with confusion. “Love, my lord?”

Zenos hums. “Yes. Love. Do you think it to be true, the idea that those in love are all the stronger for it?”

Fordola looks up, serious as always. “Yes, my lord. I do believe that.”

Zenos seems lost in thought. Staring at Fordola but not truly seeing her.

Fordola clears her throat, bowing her head. “Forgive me, my lord, but may I ask why the sudden interest?”

Zenos blinks back into focus. A slow, dangerous smile curling at his lips.

“I’ve made mine choice. I’ve decided to love the Warrior of Light.”

Fordola’s face spasms minutely. Hiding the internal screech of her brain as she tries and fails to understand this sudden undertaking.

Zenos is smiling to himself. Clearly pleased with his decision. He waves her away, chuckling lowly. “Go. I have no need of you.”

Fordola rises to her feet, turning tail and walking away on auto pilot. Struggling still to understand the inner workings of Zenos’s mind.

What? Just…. what??

- - -The Warrior of Light does not take the news half as well.

“I intend to love you,” Zenos tells them as their weapons clash.

The Warrior of Light blanches, shoving him back and stumbling away. “What? No! That’s… You can’t! You had better not!”

Zenos smiles, prowling around them like a predator ready to pounce. “Oh, yess. I believe you’ll find that I can and I will. I will love you and I will grow all the more powerful for it!”

The Warrior of Light makes an unpleasant face. “You can’t love me! You’re..,” they gesture to all of him, “You know. Evil!”

Zenos hopes his expression conveys his deep disapproval. “And? Do you mean to say that I am incapable of love?”

The Warrior of Light looks at him with wide, incredulous eyes. “Yes!”

Zenos scowls. “How very narrow minded of you. I expected better from you.”

The Warrior of Light makes a sound like they couldn’t possibly believe him. “Why me? Pick someone else, anyone else!”

Zenos tosses his head. Annoyed at the turn their conversation was taking. “And who else could I possibly love?”

The Warrior of Light groans, rubbing at their face with brisk irritation. “I don’t know… Fordola?”

Zenos scoffs. Dismissing the notion with a disgusted curl of his lips. “Fordola is far from being mine equal,” he shakes his head. “No. It can only be you. Only you have proven to be worth mine time and efforts.”

The Warrior of Light backs away, pointing a shaky finger with horror writ across their face, “No! You.. stay away from me! I’ll hear no more of this nonsense! The next time you see me, I’ll have come to dethrone you!”

Zenos smiles, eyes half lidded as he groans lasciviously. “Mmm. Such promises you make. Will you come to punish me? How very… exciting!”

The Warrior of Light lets loose a sound of disgust. Stepping away from his reach until they could turn their back to safely make their escape.

Zenos chuckles. Watching them go as he calls after them, “Just you wait, my beast! You cannot escape my love!”

#ffxiv #ram replies #warrior of light #zenos yae galvus #silliness #writing ssk #I'll just add to this as I go along shall i?#Fordola #more silliness

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trendingnewsb · 7 years ago

Text

The Power of Deep Thinking: Essence of Creativity

True or False: “This sentence is false.”

What was your answer to the question above? Did you quickly fire off an answer or did you have to think about it and then think about it some more?

Imagine for a moment that you could put on a set of inverted goggles and see the world through an entirely different lens. On one hand, you would literally see differently, but you might not view the world differently. If we look deep enough and allow ourselves to observe from a new lens, we will. Thomas S. Kuhn remarked in The Structure of Scientific Revolutions,[1]

“What a man sees depends upon what he looks at and also upon what his previous visual conceptual experience has taught him to see.”

The power of deep thinking is the essence of creativity. By learning how to think differently and deep, you will find that it is not only your creative thinking, but your critical thinking skills that vastly improve. This leads to higher levels of thinking and powerful problem-solving skills that you simply did not have before.

Let’s take a look at what deep thinking is, why you should learn about it, and what it will do for you.

How Do You Know That You Know the Stuff You Think You Know?

Have you heard the saying, the more you know the less you know? If you haven’t, take a moment and think about that phrase. By looking at the Theory of Knowledge, we can pose the following question: How do you know that you know the stuff you think you know?

Let’s look at an example. Solve the following: 2 + 2 = ?

I am hoping you answered 4! Yet, let’s take a look at another way to look at this. In Plato and Platypus Walk into a Bar by Thomas Cathcart and Daniel Klein, we find the following story.

A western anthropologist is told by a Voohooni that 2 + 2 = 5. The anthropologist asks him how he knows this. The tribesman says,

“By counting, of course. First, I tie two knots in a cord. Then I tie two knots in another cord. When I join the two cords together, I have five knots.”

Deep Thinking Is Thinking About Thinking

Rene Descartes famously stated, “Cogito ergo sum” or “I think, therefore I am” where he believed thinking as the essential characteristic of being human.

In Why the World Doesn’t Seem to Make Sense, Steve Hagen discussed that Descartes arrived at the cogito through an experiment in radical doubt to discover if there was anything he could be certain of; that is, anything that he could not doubt away.[2] Hagen commented,

“He started out by doubting the existence of the external world. Then he tried doubting his own existence. But doubt as he would, he kept coming up against the fact that there was a doubter. Must be himself! He could not doubt his own doubting.”

Essentially, Metacognition is awareness of one’s awareness. It is thinking about thinking or cognition about cognition.

Meta means Beyond

Cognition means Thinking

Thus, Metacognition means Beyond Thinking.

To be aware, it refers to the ability of the mind to stand back and watch itself in action. Here, we are able to examine the way we learn, remember, and think. The knowledge of how we process information gives us the opportunity to change how we process it. [3]

Can We Really Know What Anything Is?

Hagen poses the following question in his book Why the World Doesn’t Seem to Make Sense: Here it is, but what is it? Do we truly know what something is?

Hagen remarks,

When we try to answer this, have we merely answered the question “how do we conceive of it?” or “what do we call it?” Some deeper question remains.

For example, if I say, “Here, in this cup, is water,” you may ask, “What is water?” But as scientists we might wish to point out, “Water is hydrogen and oxygen.” Thus, by using scientific methods it seems we can discover what water is “made of.”

With confidence we say, “What is really in this cup is hydrogen and oxygen, combined and transformed into this unique substance we call ‘water’.” But the questions continue.

Hagen concludes, “What is hydrogen? What is oxygen? And so we look again, using scientific methods, and say, “Hydrogen is an element made of atoms, each consisting of a single proton and a single electron.”

But still the questions remain: what are atoms? What are protons and electrons? It seems that we’ve started on a never-ending regression. At no time do we ever really get to the other end of the question: “What is water?” We can name the mind object, even break it down and name its parts, but we still don’t really answer the question.”

Reading this passage leaves me to ask myself: can we ever really know what anything is? Let’s look at another example from Hagen.

He illustrates just how strange our world is through the conversation between a physicist and a philosopher:

Physicist: …and so we conclude an electron is a particle.

Philosopher: But you also claim an electron is a wave.

Physicist: Yes, it’s also a wave.

Philosopher: But surely, not if it’s a particle.

Physicist: We say it’s both wave and particle.

Philosopher: But that’s a contradiction, obviously.

Physicist: Are you then saying it’s neither wave nor particle?

Philosopher: No, I’m asking what you mean by “it.”

A Gap in the Stream of Consciousness

You might be wondering what the difference is between Metacognition and Cognition.

Cognition. This is the process of acquiring knowledge for understanding. Cognition is thinking.

Metacognition. This relies on awareness and control of cognitive processes. Metacognition will help you find gaps in your learning and thinking. However, you must have acquired some previous knowledge about a topic prior to Metacognition. As mentioned earlier, Metacognition goes beyond just thinking… it is thinking about thinking.

Now that you have an understanding of the fundamental principle behind deep thinking, let’s take a look at how to develop it.

In the book The Power of Now by Eckhart Tolle,[4] we learn the following lessons.

Constantly Observe Your Mind Without Judging Your Thoughts

Here we should ask one simple question, “What will my next thought be?” Try it. Can you think of your next thought? Probably not.

By continually asking this question, you can delay the arrival of your next thought. This is due to what is called the quantum zeno effect, where we can freeze our current state by observing it. Essentially, there can be no change while you are watching it.

Life Is Simply a Series of Present Moments

Here we are informed that the past is simply all the present moments that have gone by. Tolle posits that the only important time is the present, for which we think about the least. Furthermore, the present is simply future present moments waiting to go by.

Imagine leaving your body and watching yourself think. Think of this as a mental movie where your goal is not to judge the actors, but to simply observe them.

Tolle refers to entering into the Now or the Present as creating a gap in the stream of mind. Asking yourself the question “What will my next thought be?” creates that gap and allows you to dis-identify from your mind. Once you do this, you have elevated yourself above thought. This is Enlightenment.

Stages of Deep Thinking

Before we look at strategies you can use to become a deep thinker, let’s briefly look at the stages of deep thinking known as the Three Levels of Thought. [5]

Level 1: Lower Order Thinking. The individual is not reflective, has a low to mixed skill level, and relies solely on gut intuition.

Level 2: Higher Order Thinking. The individual is selective on what to reflect on, has a high skill level, yet lacks critical thinking vocabulary.

Level 3: Highest Order Thinking. The individual is explicitly reflective, has the highest skill level, and routinely uses critical thinking tools.

Strategies to Become a Deep Thinker

To enter into the Highest Order Thinking, try the following strategies.

Increase Self-Awareness by Thinking About Thinking

Imagine you could become aware of how you learn. We know that we must have a baseline of previous knowledge about something to use Metacognition. Think of your Intelligence as what you think and Metacognition as how you think. Let’s look at a series of questions you can ask yourself by using the Elements of Thought.[6]

Purpose. What am I trying to accomplish?

Questions: What question am I raising or addressing? Am I considering the complexities in the question?

Information: What information am I using to get to my conclusion.

Inferences: How did I reach this conclusion? Is there another way to interpret the information?

Concepts: What is the main idea? Can I explain this idea?

Assumptions: What am I taking for granted?

Implications: If someone accepted my position, what would the implications be?

Points of View. From what point of view am I looking at this issue? Is there another point of view I should consider?

Challenge Current Learning Methods Through Meta-Questions

Meta-Questioning is higher order questions we can use to explore ideas and problems. Here are some examples.

Why did it happen?

Why was it true?

How does X relate to Y?

Why is reasoning based on X instead of Y?

Are there other possibilities?

Let’s look at a practical example.

When you say: “I can’t do this.” Change this to: “What specifically can I not do?”

You say: “I can’t exercise.” Then ask: “What is stopping me?”

You say: “I don’t have time.” Now ask yourself: “What needs to happen for me to start exercising?”

You discover: “What time wasters can I eliminate in order to create more time to exercise?”

Then imagine how you could start exercising: “If I could exercise, how would I do it?”

View the World Through Different Lens

Here is a technique you can use to foster a deeper understanding of a problem—Four Ways of Seeing:

How does X view itself?

How does Y view itself?

How does X view Y?

How does Y view X?

Try to apply the technique like this: suppose we are in the United States looking at a foreign country. First, draw four boxes, then list the questions. Second, start answering the questions.

In box #1 ask: “How do we see the United States?”

Box #2: “How does China see themselves?”

Box #3: “How does China see the United States?”

Box #4: “How do you see them?”

Thought Experiments

One last technique you can use to become a deep thinker —Thought Experiments. This is a device of the imagination used to investigate the nature of just about anything. [7] Thought Experiments seek to learn about reality through thinking:

Visualize a situation and set it up in your imagination.

Let it run or carry out some type of operation.

See what happens.

Draw a conclusion.

The team at Stanford describes this using the following example: Since the time of Lucretius, we’ve learned how to conceptualize space so that it is both finite and unbounded. Let’s see how this Thought Experiment can work.

Imagine a circle, which is a one-dimensional space.

As we move around, there is no edge, but it is nevertheless finite.

What can you conclude? The universe might be a three-dimensional version of this topology.

Think Deep, and You Will Think Creatively

Thinking deep will change how you think, feel, and view the world. When you understand this concept, you will start to think beyond simple beliefs.

“When the root is Deep… There is no reason to fear the wind.”

Deep Thinking will change how you think, feel, and view the world. When you understand this concept, you will start to think beyond simple beliefs.

By applying all the skills mentioned in this article, you will be able to think deeper and explore more possibilities.

Featured photo credit: Stocksnap via stocksnap.io

Reference

[1]^Thomas S. Kuhn: The Structure of Scientific Revolutions[2]^Steve Hagen: Why the World Doesn’t Seem to Make Sense: An Inquiry Into Science, Philosophy and Perception[3]^ThePeakLearner: What is Metacognition? 3 Key Points to Remember[4]^Eckhart Tolle: The Power of Now[5]^Thinker’s Guide Library: Critical Thinking Concepts & Tools[6]^Thinker’s Guide Library: Critical Thinking Concepts & Tools[7]^Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy: Thought Experiments

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honeyandfiregame · 6 years ago

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UHH. Be still my heart. Angry Day has inspired an angst request. So some incident, or a combination of just god-awful trainwrecks has put RO!Day (and maybe RO!Zenos. Would either do this? Idk. Angst needs no logic.) in the WORST mood, and the MC goes to calm them. But in their anger, something that the MC says upsets them, and they respond with something mean that just breaks the MC, who runs away in tears, completely inconsolable. How does Day (and Zenos?) react?

Day doesn’t get legit angry much at all, so it was hard to think of a scenario where this could happen. The only one I could come up with, well… Not only is this under a readmore because it’s long, but it also dances around and kind of over the edge of spoiler territory. It’s vague and alludes to something I’ve already kind of said about Day, so I still feel like I can post it. But if you want to keep some of the mystery about Day until the game is complete, I’d suggest not reading this. This is a wildly different side of Day than what you’ve seen. (Also this isn’t written in relation to the canon timeline and character development, so if his behavior when he’s romanced in canon ends up seeming different from how he is in this, that’s why :p)

I didn’t do one for Zenos this time, but I might do that later.

There’s a tremor in his hands and a ringing in his head. Day looks up from his trembling fingers, the world tilts on its axis but his eyes focus on that glint of gold, that crest of bastards. His stomach turns. He’s disgusted, alarms going off in his brain that makes him want to react, but he knows anything he does in this moment will draw to much attention and his boots are planted firmly on the ground. His vision shifts, but his body stays still.

Disgusted.

He doesn’t recognize the faces, he doesn’t know them, but if they wear that crest they’re sons of witches all the same. That much is true. No, he’s not the creature of Hell, neither Ira nor Gula, it’s them.

He doesn’t realize he’s clenched his jaw tight and his hands have furled into fists, an internal battle fighting against and for grabbing the sword off his back, while his eyes burn holes in the backs of aristocratic sinners. He doesn’t realize until you touch his shoulder and release him from the spell, making him jolt and suck in a breath.

He turns to you a bit too quickly, causing you to take a step back. “Ah…” It’s hard to meet your eyes, what he sees in them he knows is not really there. He shakes his head. “Let’s go back to my place.”

You’re clearly concerned. “What? But we just…”

A pang in his chest leads him to walk past you, not even waiting to hear the rest of your protest. “Wanna go home…” he mumbles. Something in his voice convinces you, as you obediently follow behind him, but he can feel your concerned eyes on his back. His skin shivers under his layers. No… It’s nothing, don’t be concerned.

The walk back to his house allows him to clear his head a bit, but he’s still dissociated, his mind picturing that crest every time he tries to think about something else, his footsteps uncertain as his eyes see a road twisted too much to be the same way he takes home, even if it really is. All this, of course, you remain oblivious to. Because there’s no way he’d let you see him being affected like this.

It’s uncomfortable, the silence that follows when he locks the door behind you two and tosses his keyring onto a hook by the door. It’s uncomfortable, the way you’re looking at him. When you open your mouth, it’s almost a relief compared to the silence, even if your words are not what he wants to deal with right now.

“What happened?” you ask, brow furrowed. “Are you okay?”

He sighs. Taking his time to remove his coat and hat, tossing them both onto the back of a chair, he tries to drag it out so he doesn’t have to answer that just yet. Honesty. He should be honest, because you’re his lover and you’re worried. Because now you can actually pry a little deeper into his issues and he can’t really bring himself to be annoyed by it anymore.

Another sigh. He falls into a chair and you follow suit, taking a seat in front of him. “It’s nothing, I was…” His teeth grind into each other, his mind flashing back to that crest again. “Earlier at the market, I saw… I saw these people. People I hate, I just… I wanted to get out of there. It’s fine now.”

He refuses to meet your eyes while he explains. Idly his rough, gloved hand touches his bare forearm. This is all a level of exposure he really doesn’t want to feel right now, he’s coming to realize. Especially when you reach over, placing a warm, comforting hand on his other arm and he lets you.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Shit. You can see the unease in his body now, too. You can see through him.

Day shakes off your touch, standing up so he’s not sitting stuck with restless energy, so he can turn his back to you and properly reign in his feelings, stop them from shining through in his eyes. He shouldn’t have taken his hat off. Swallowing, his voice returns to the neutral, stoic tone it usually is. “You don’t need to worry about it.”

“Really? Cause you seem kinda shaken up.” The skepticism is clear in your voice. He hears you stand up and his head imperceptibly twitches to the side. His jaw clenches again, pointed canines threatening to grind to a blunt edge. “I don’t understand what’s happening. This isn’t like you. Aren’t they just some people? What’s got you so worked up?”

You didn’t mean it like that, he should know that. You’re just confused and worried, he should know that. Your words aren’t mean to cut, but he…

He turns around so quickly you find yourself stepping back in moment of deja vu. His glare is fierce, his usual stoic features twisting to anger, brow furrowed, lips starting to curl back in a wolfish snarl, flashing dangerous white teeth. “Just some people? Have you no memory of anything? That bitch? The one who ruined me?” His voice is raising above the level it can usually handle. Not made for yelling, the hoarseness of his voice becomes more and more apparent with each question.

Sorry.

Sorry, it’s not your fault. He knows this.

It’s not your fault.

His eyes have never been colder, because rather than filled with nothingness, they’re alight with hatred as his voice drops to a hiss. “Are you always trying to be an asshole or are you just fucking stupid?”

His heart stops cold. His eyes widen, immediately the fire inside extinguished as he hears his own words.

It’s not you. He’s not angry at you. He’s not even angry at those men at the market. He’s angry at the past. But if he fights with the past, he’ll lose. Again.

Oh god, and now you’re staring at him, shocked. Unshed tears glisten in your eyes and his heart twists. He shouldn’t have taken it out on you. Why the fuck did he do that?

He takes a step towards you and you take a step back. He tries to reach towards you and you take another step back. His jaw trembles and his hand falls back to his side as you turn away from him.

No words are exchanged, but the sound that comes from you slamming the door behind you is deafening and says plenty, and he doesn’t follow. He just lets you leave, falling into his chair with his head in his hands.

So many things he shouldn’t have done. More importantly, he shouldn’t have let himself feel anything just by seeing that crest. He’s not as strong as he thought, no, he’s weak. He’s weak, powerless, just like always.

Bodiless voices whisper poison in his ears, reminding him of times past and feelings, both physical and emotional, he’d wished to forget. Skoll and Hati, having watched the spectacle, finally come over to him, claws clicking on the floor in near unison as they move to comfort their master.

Without removing his head from his hands, Day slides from the chair to the floor. A trembling sets in and Skoll and Hati each take a side, pressing up against his body to try and calm him from triggering memories.

But he’s hurt you and everything that’s bubbled up from it, he deserves. He’ll need to apologize later, but he’s in no state for that. He deserves this pain. He deserves every last damned drop filling up his self-destructive body.

Why the fuck is he like this?

#Spoilers #shorts #there's no good ending #you asked for angst and that's what this is #Day #HoF #Honey and Fire #I wrote this in an hour and didn't proofread

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trendingnewsb · 7 years ago

Text

The Power of Deep Thinking: Essence of Creativity

True or False: “This sentence is false.”

What was your answer to the question above? Did you quickly fire off an answer or did you have to think about it and then think about it some more?

“What a man sees depends upon what he looks at and also upon what his previous visual conceptual experience has taught him to see.”

Let’s take a look at what deep thinking is, why you should learn about it, and what it will do for you.

How Do You Know That You Know the Stuff You Think You Know?

Let’s look at an example. Solve the following: 2 + 2 = ?

I am hoping you answered 4! Yet, let’s take a look at another way to look at this. In Plato and Platypus Walk into a Bar by Thomas Cathcart and Daniel Klein, we find the following story.

A western anthropologist is told by a Voohooni that 2 + 2 = 5. The anthropologist asks him how he knows this. The tribesman says,

“By counting, of course. First, I tie two knots in a cord. Then I tie two knots in another cord. When I join the two cords together, I have five knots.”

Deep Thinking Is Thinking About Thinking

Rene Descartes famously stated, “Cogito ergo sum” or “I think, therefore I am” where he believed thinking as the essential characteristic of being human.

Essentially, Metacognition is awareness of one’s awareness. It is thinking about thinking or cognition about cognition.

Meta means Beyond

Cognition means Thinking

Thus, Metacognition means Beyond Thinking.

Can We Really Know What Anything Is?

Hagen poses the following question in his book Why the World Doesn’t Seem to Make Sense: Here it is, but what is it? Do we truly know what something is?

Hagen remarks,

When we try to answer this, have we merely answered the question “how do we conceive of it?” or “what do we call it?” Some deeper question remains.

With confidence we say, “What is really in this cup is hydrogen and oxygen, combined and transformed into this unique substance we call ‘water’.” But the questions continue.

Reading this passage leaves me to ask myself: can we ever really know what anything is? Let’s look at another example from Hagen.

He illustrates just how strange our world is through the conversation between a physicist and a philosopher:

Physicist: …and so we conclude an electron is a particle.

Philosopher: But you also claim an electron is a wave.

Physicist: Yes, it’s also a wave.

Philosopher: But surely, not if it’s a particle.

Physicist: We say it’s both wave and particle.

Philosopher: But that’s a contradiction, obviously.

Physicist: Are you then saying it’s neither wave nor particle?

Philosopher: No, I’m asking what you mean by “it.”

A Gap in the Stream of Consciousness

You might be wondering what the difference is between Metacognition and Cognition.

Cognition. This is the process of acquiring knowledge for understanding. Cognition is thinking.

Now that you have an understanding of the fundamental principle behind deep thinking, let’s take a look at how to develop it.

In the book The Power of Now by Eckhart Tolle,[4] we learn the following lessons.

Constantly Observe Your Mind Without Judging Your Thoughts

Here we should ask one simple question, “What will my next thought be?” Try it. Can you think of your next thought? Probably not.

Life Is Simply a Series of Present Moments

Imagine leaving your body and watching yourself think. Think of this as a mental movie where your goal is not to judge the actors, but to simply observe them.

Stages of Deep Thinking

Before we look at strategies you can use to become a deep thinker, let’s briefly look at the stages of deep thinking known as the Three Levels of Thought. [5]

Level 1: Lower Order Thinking. The individual is not reflective, has a low to mixed skill level, and relies solely on gut intuition.

Level 2: Higher Order Thinking. The individual is selective on what to reflect on, has a high skill level, yet lacks critical thinking vocabulary.

Level 3: Highest Order Thinking. The individual is explicitly reflective, has the highest skill level, and routinely uses critical thinking tools.

Strategies to Become a Deep Thinker

To enter into the Highest Order Thinking, try the following strategies.

Increase Self-Awareness by Thinking About Thinking

Purpose. What am I trying to accomplish?

Questions: What question am I raising or addressing? Am I considering the complexities in the question?

Information: What information am I using to get to my conclusion.

Inferences: How did I reach this conclusion? Is there another way to interpret the information?

Concepts: What is the main idea? Can I explain this idea?

Assumptions: What am I taking for granted?

Implications: If someone accepted my position, what would the implications be?

Points of View. From what point of view am I looking at this issue? Is there another point of view I should consider?

Challenge Current Learning Methods Through Meta-Questions

Meta-Questioning is higher order questions we can use to explore ideas and problems. Here are some examples.

Why did it happen?

Why was it true?

How does X relate to Y?

Why is reasoning based on X instead of Y?

Are there other possibilities?

Let’s look at a practical example.

When you say: “I can’t do this.” Change this to: “What specifically can I not do?”

You say: “I can’t exercise.” Then ask: “What is stopping me?”

You say: “I don’t have time.” Now ask yourself: “What needs to happen for me to start exercising?”

You discover: “What time wasters can I eliminate in order to create more time to exercise?”

Then imagine how you could start exercising: “If I could exercise, how would I do it?”

View the World Through Different Lens

Here is a technique you can use to foster a deeper understanding of a problem—Four Ways of Seeing:

How does X view itself?

How does Y view itself?

How does X view Y?

How does Y view X?

Try to apply the technique like this: suppose we are in the United States looking at a foreign country. First, draw four boxes, then list the questions. Second, start answering the questions.

In box #1 ask: “How do we see the United States?”

Box #2: “How does China see themselves?”

Box #3: “How does China see the United States?”

Box #4: “How do you see them?”

Thought Experiments

Visualize a situation and set it up in your imagination.

Let it run or carry out some type of operation.

See what happens.

Draw a conclusion.

The team at Stanford describes this using the following example: Since the time of Lucretius, we��ve learned how to conceptualize space so that it is both finite and unbounded. Let’s see how this Thought Experiment can work.

Imagine a circle, which is a one-dimensional space.

As we move around, there is no edge, but it is nevertheless finite.

What can you conclude? The universe might be a three-dimensional version of this topology.

Think Deep, and You Will Think Creatively

Thinking deep will change how you think, feel, and view the world. When you understand this concept, you will start to think beyond simple beliefs.

“When the root is Deep… There is no reason to fear the wind.”

Deep Thinking will change how you think, feel, and view the world. When you understand this concept, you will start to think beyond simple beliefs.

By applying all the skills mentioned in this article, you will be able to think deeper and explore more possibilities.

Featured photo credit: Stocksnap via stocksnap.io

Reference

The post The Power of Deep Thinking: Essence of Creativity appeared first on Lifehack.

from Viral News HQ http://ift.tt/2vpEOHf via Viral News HQ

#IFTTT #Viral News HQ

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