#she's trying!

[thevikingwoman]

Meryta struggles with her fears, feelings, and putting words on paper.

Fandom: FFXIV | Words: 1553 | Read on Ao3

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

Meryta Khatin x Tansui | after The Key to The Castle | romance Rating: Teen. Letter writing, longing, fear of death, fear of change, Alisaie friendship, dealing or not dealing with feelings

Letters and Longing, part 1

Meryta’s pen hovers over the parchment, frustration marring her face. The pen is frozen as she thinks, ink dripping on the page. She groans and puts the pen back in the inkwell, carefully mopping up the extra ink on the page. At least it didn’t ruin what she’d already written. The letter is a mess anyway, but she can’t fathom rewriting it, little as it is. It’s hard enough already. Not only are the words hard to come by, but the act of writing itself – the echo might grant her ability to speak and understand any language, but it doesn’t confer any scholarly skills, including letter writing.

After they returned from Dohn Mheg with the shell crown, a silent thanks to Soroban and the Kojin, she’d decided it was time to write a letter. Urianger had been pleased enough to supply the pen and parchment when she asked, his golden eyes kind. She is glad to see them. At any other time, her attention would have been drawn by how handsome he is, free of whatever caused him to hide before. But all she can think of is warm brown eyes and a dark beard, her thoughts returning to the Ruby Seas and to Tansui.

She wants to tell him – something.

They’ve been rushing, ever since they ran from Ran’jit in Lakeland. She’s not afraid of him, not the way she’s afraid of the Lightwarden, but to deal with Ran’jit she has to fight another Lightwarden.

She’d have to fight it anyway, or so the Exarch says. She’s afraid, and she’s not used to it. Not that she hasn’t been afraid before, but it’s been the good kind of fear. The fear that keeps on your toes, harnessed into a razor edge for the coming battle. Fear that makes you throw yourself into combat, teeth bared. No, now she’s filled with dread. She doesn’t want to fight the Lightwarden. She doesn’t want to see the sin eaters, the ones arisen from people lost. She doesn’t want to absorb the aether from the Warden, the Light overwhelming and itching beneath her skin.

The castle looms above the lake, glittering and beautiful and unreal. 

Soon enough, they’ll rush away to find the last two artifacts, and with the post moogle improbably spinning in humming circles in Lydha Lran. It probably gets on splendidly with the faeries. She decided to write and send a letter while she still could.

She worries – she worries she’ll not survive, or change – or unable to stop or go to the Source. And when she left Tansui last, she... Well, she doesn’t want him to think she forgot about him, or that she doesn’t want to come back. Or she wants to thank him. Or tell him…

She groans again.

If you do not see me again, it is not for lack of trying.

That doesn’t quite encompass all she wants to say, and it’s not quite the right way to say it. So far, all she’s said is that she is alive and well, for now, and they’re trying to end another Lightwarden. She should perhaps tell that she’s with her friends, that they are hale and well – but it’s too complicated, too long winded, and besides he’s met neither Urianger nor Thancred. Yet it’s strange not to mention them.

I’m with more of the scions, my friends. I do wish to visit again, but if I don’t --

She tries again, mulling over the sentences in her mind. How does one spell scion anyway? If the Lightwarden doesn’t defeat her and the Light doesn’t – change her – will Ran’jit catch up with them? Will the faeries trap them here forever, chasing their artifacts? She wants to explain and to write a proper letter – but it’s a jumbled mess along with her thoughts.

“Hello, Meryta.” Alisaie, pulling out a stool and sitting across from her. “I thought you had already left.”

“I wanted to write this letter, but – words are eluding me.”

“A letter? For whom?”

“It’s not important.”

“It’s important enough that you’ve not yet left.”

Alisaie leans over, attempting to read it upside down. Meryta wants to cover it up, but it’s messy enough and she’s unsure if the ink is dry and she won’t ruin it more. She’s certain Alisaie has beautiful handwriting, like her brother.

“Tansui? The pirate?”

The embarrassment over her handwriting is not the only reason she wants to hide it.

“He’s a friend.” She feels like she should add something, but afraid it will come out defensively.

“Sure,” Alisaie says, interrupting her thoughts. “A friend happy to extort money from us, I guess.” She narrows her eyes. “But mayhap that’s not quite what you think of.”

She fights the instinct to hide, she can’t truly explain what he is, not fully. It’s not the times they’ve fucked, but the way he held her, last time she was there. How that makes her want to go to him again. How, despite her happiness to see her friends again, and her sympathy for the plight of the people here, all she wants is to rest in his arms again.

“I’ve visited and I –“ she stops, and freezes. Another thing she doesn’t want is to worry Alisaie, how her need to write is bound up with her fear that she’ll not be successful in the next fight. That whatever they do will not work, that the Light may consume her. She thinks of the other things she wants to tell him too, words of both affection and practicality stuck in her head.

“Feo Ul said he’d get the letters to the Source somehow,” she explains, backing up. “I want to tell him – at least to be aware of Black Rose and of the things Urianger saw in his vision. Be I’m not used to writing letters, and –“

Alisaie’s eyes soften, any judgement leaving them. “Mayhap I can help?”

She has never found it difficult to talk to Alisaie, and she shouldn’t find it so now. She’s not embarrassed, she’s perhaps just reluctant to both name her fears to those who depend on her, and to admit she ran from them. Or that – it would be easier to share if she understood her thoughts herself. She longs for the simplicity in visiting Tansu and the Confederacy, and that peace feels private.

“I would be glad.”

With her friend’s help she manages to compose something sensible, and not too long. Simply asking him, and the Confederacy, to be careful with any run-ins with Garleans and their cargo. She also tells a little of what has come to pass for her here on the First. She thinks he might find the faeries amusing, as long as he’s not on the receiving end of their shenanigans. A kinship of making people pay for their trespasses, perhaps.

“I miss him,” she blurs out at the end, wanting to add that too, needing to voice it despite her confusion. Her mind circles back to the notion that should she die or be unable to travel, would he know? That he should know he’s not forgotten, but that he means… something to her.

“You should tell,” Alisaie says. “I am not sure I’d name the Confederacy a steadfast ally, but – regrets can come too soon.” There’s something painful in the other woman’s eyes, the raw hurt unhidden.

“I’m sorry,” Meryta says. “If we’d been faster, if we’d – “

“She did what she had to do. It’s no need – it’s over now.” Alisaie shakes her head. “Please. I just – see to your letter. Mayhap I shall take my leave and trust you can write the rest without out my help. I surmise you’d rather it be so. And I think I’ve left my dear brother alone with the fairies a tad longer than he finds amusing.”

“Thank you, Alisaie.”

“Of course, my friend. Good luck with the artifacts. We will keep the Eulmorians busy.”

Meryta watches Alisaie leave, confident steps, her rapier ever ready. Meryta has no doubt about hers, and Alphinaud’s, capabilities. They will keep their pursuers at bay.

She does manage the rest of the letter, trying to shape her feelings into words, her mind occupied with the memory of brown eyes and calloused hands, and marks sucked into her flesh.

Tansui, I do not know if I will win this fight. I do not know if it will change me. I miss you. I wish to see you again. I hope to see you again if can. If I cannot know that I tried.

I would like to eat breakfast with you again. I long for it.

Satisfied, she seals the letter. At least he will know she did not abandon him, should her end come. The risk is always there, but somehow here, it feels closer than ever. Meryta shakes her head, and looks at the flowers in the blinding light. Her thoughts spin in circles.

Feo Ul and the post moogle is more than happy to accept her letter, exorbitant fee agreed on. One less thing to regret.

She doesn’t want to die. The castle on its high peak, pretty and bright. Most of all, she doesn’t want to absorb the Light of a second Lightwarden, a third, a fourth – how many are there?

She has no choice but to set out.

[rebouks]

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Transcript:

Matilda: Why’re you hiding? Tristen: [shrugs] I felt awkward. Matilda: How come?

Tristen: I don’t really like parties these days. Matilda: Oscar doesn’t always find it easy either, y’know-.. partying without getting wasted, I mean. Tristen: I didn’t know you knew about that.

Matilda: Was it supposed to be a secret? Tristen: Eh, people judge. Matilda: Well.. you’re talking to me, and I’m literally the worst person in attendance.

Tristen: You seem nice enough. Matilda: Ah, you clearly don’t know me well enough yet-.. c’mon, you’ll never learn how to enjoy yourself in here. Tristen: [sighs] I guess.

[soundwavefucker69]

bastille has done more for the queer community by just making all of their love songs about "you" instead of specifying a gender than taylor swift has in all of her discography. thanks for coming to my ted talk.

[kensatou]

i'll let phie-san say it:

[soothedcerberus]

Does anybody remember Dragon Tales? 🥺

[wildbasil]

things haven't been great but i think they will be. eventually 🌻🌼🩷

[humming-fly]

I love how Gerald was trying to keep Shadow from spoiling anything about the future meanwhile literally everything Shadow says and does around Maria is the biggest death flag ever

[bruciemilf]

Need a the Waynes Lived AU where Martha’s a vampire. She snuck in a Wayne Gala for a potential late night snack, but Thomas thought she was a socialite.

“So, what do you do?”

“I drain people of their life sources.”

“Oh, you’re a CEO too?”

She can’t drink Thomas’ blood because he smokes too much, the baggy eyes indicate long nights spent on his feet during surgery, which means it’ll taste bitter, and she saw him drown 10 whiskey shots in one go.

It’s a taste thing, nothing against him.

He is, how ever, very handsome, and she decided she’ll be his house cat for the time being. Fast forward two years later and they have a vampire cherub of a baby named Bruce.

Babies usually don’t come out with fangs and tiny bat wings, so, yeah. His wife’s a vampire. Cool.

“How come I’ve never seen your wife outside during the daytime, Tom??”

“How come I’ve never seen you mind your own fucking business?”

[mydairpercabeth]

just saw the most heartbreaking annabeth take from ep 3

[squarecloud73]

*I worship you Tumblr please don’t remove it

傳達不到的一些東西

Dumb school girl crush

[skellydun]

why is it when people ask me what i want as a gift i immediately become someone who enjoys nothing at all and has never wanted anything a day in their life.

[leisi-lilacdreams]

[inkskinned]

you said you were stuck in a time loop, which was fine. i feel like late-stage capitalism has us all in a time loop, ammiright? you came barging in at 5:33. in the morning. i hadn't even processed the idea of coffee.

but you had this look of utter panic in your eyes. terror like the ocean. you grabbed my cheeks. im in a time loop.

i don't know why in movies the first reaction is to deny it. when someone is panicking like that, it's not appropriate to ask them to calm down. it didn't matter if i believed it, what mattered was that you believed it so much that it was consuming you.

so here we are. i pour you some of the dark roast. "you look like utter and entire hell," i say.

you push your fingers into your eyes. "you always say that."

i try to think of something funny to say that i wouldn't have said on previous time loops, but jokes don't land without the proper timing (lol). "remind me to think -"

"-yeah, of a joke that only works in the future. and before you say anything, i know you're pissed i just stole your punchline." you bolt the coffee, which is wild. it's very hot. you don't seem to notice.

i blow on mine to cool it down. i both am very pissed at you and also i can't see you in this amount of panic without wanting to help. but i'm also not really sure what we are, not since i saw you kiss her like that, no offense. it just was like, kind of rude when you knew i liked you.

and besides. i'm just like, barely a person. i write omegaverse fanfiction. i love the concept of a time loop, but what the fuck am i gonna do? send an alpha in there? i open my mouth.

you point at me. "you're about to ask why me. and then say some disparaging shit about yourself. i'm just a nerd who plays dnd or something. that self-own is slightly different each time." you sigh. "i know you think you can't really help me. i don't know who can help me. i only came to you because you fucking believe me." you check your watch, sigh, and throw your head back. you cover your eyes with one hand. "i've come here on 26 separate revolutions," you say. "you have believed me every time. and yeah, i have no idea how you fit into this but i just -" you sigh again. "i just like fucking talking to someone about it."

"do you need more cof-" i start, but you're already holding the empty cup out. i frown at it. "you're not getting any more until you promise not to bolt this one like an animal."

you laugh a little and sit up, pushing your hair out of your face. "okay, that's new dialogue. but to be fair to you, i'm not usually this rude. i'm still pretty new at all of this." you check your watch again. another sigh. i guess you're cruising for a personal best in the Sigh Olympics.

i almost tell you im not an NPC but i've played enough video games to know i'm very much an NPC. i pour you another cup. "so what happens in the loop?"

"really bad explosion." you mutter into the mug. you put your elbows on the table (rude) and bury your face in your arms like an angsty teenager. one hand floats up while you talk, because evidently you literally can't talk without your hands. "i have to save the day and there's this bomb and i have no bomb training and it keeps moving, you know."

"do i die?"

you peek up from your arms. "yeah. bigtime. you keep trying to run or stay or do anything and you always super die."

"oh."

"to be fair, like, everyone dies in it though.... so you're in good company."

i hate that you make me laugh. i hate that being around you always feels tingly and strange, this electric tension between us. something that is evidently (given how you stuck your tongue down a stranger's throat literally 3 days ago) (well. 3 for me) super one-sided. i take a sip of my coffee and close my eyes.

i die today, i guess. a little spark of panic starts at the top of my hands and starts whipping up my wrists.

"shit," you say. you look at your watch and jump to your feet. "i have to go. if i can come back, i will. i am still trying to figure out when is best to do everything, you know? the order of stuff. maybe morning isn't good for us."

i look up at you and think about how you keep kissing me in the back of my car and in alleyways and in the dark. and i can never fucking get a read on you. and i also think about how incredibly panicked you look. how broken. how long have you been doing this? "i don't want to die," i say.

you glance downwards. "well, you're not really dead, you'll come back in the loop."

"but i will have died." my hands are shaking. i am trying really hard to stay calm.

you push your hands through your hair again. "i really have to go. i will have this discussion with the next version of you, though. it is like, something i am thinking about."

"but i don't get a next version," i say. i don't really have the language for this, because i haven't had 26 tries with you. i only have my memories: you, a week ago. drunk and telling me you loved me in my ear. you, kissing her anyway. you, months ago, throwing up on my birthday, whispering to me i ruin everything i touch, always, over and over. please don't ask. i can't ever fucking have that be you.

i run my finger along the rim of the mug. "i don't want to die in this one."

you seem baffled by this. "i get that but - time will reset, you'll be fine, you won't even remember we talked about this."

"but i know now." i stand up too. "i have to live the rest of this day knowing i could die. knowing i probably am going to."

"you could always die, to be fair."

i feel my hands get out of control. "earlier, you said i always say a different insult about myself. what if you're just going through different parallel universes and those are all just different - but real - versions of myself? what if you're not in a time loop, you're in a fucking universe loop?"

"if it helps, i've wondered this too. also, you're hot in all of them. if that helps."

i point at you. "no flirting. i'm trying to figure out if i die today."

"who's flirting?" you catch my wild hands and give me that long, perfect smile. like we're in this together. "i won't let ya die." you check your watch and sigh again. "well. maybe not this time."

i grit my teeth. you are so not making quips at me while i try to explain the existential dread i'm having. "does the time loop reset if i fucking kill you?"

"honestly i don't know how long it continues after i die, because i just wake up. it could be that the loop goes until the explosion for everyone, and we're all in the loop, or it could be that when i die, the loop restarts. when i die i wake up, is all."

i pull away from you and stalk into the kitchen and start doing all 3 of my dishes. "okay, first, you know i was joking. and secondly, this is exactly my point. you don't know if this is just a parallel universe. maybe in the ones where you died, the explosion happened and nobody reset and it's just you travelling." i have to stop and push the heel of my palm into my eyeball. "... how often have you died?"

i look at you. you look at me. you give me this very sad, halfway smile and a little what can ya do shrug. something in that action seems so old and weary that i want to burst into tears.

"i have to go," you say. "really. for real. there's this family of five i save from getting into a car crash. and i know it's like oh but we're all gonna die in the explosion anyway, what's the point. and..." you shrug again. "it matters to me, is all. at least i saved them for now. at least i saved anything."

you pad over to me and wrap me in a tight hug. you always seem so tall against me. i feel your cheek rest against the top of my head for a moment. for a second, it's just us, and the space is warm, and my heart is a little broken hare.

you leave me there, and i stand in my stupid badly lit kitchen with my stupid mugs. i think about you. i start texting my mom that she needs to get out of the city, but it feels pointless.

i don't know what to do. tomorrow is the same day for you. but i have to prepare to die in my today.

[chloesimaginationthings]

Michael Afton gets owned in FNAF 4

[peachieflame]

The Reverend Daughter

[mattmonss]

Father and daughter bonding <3