#yugiri chuckles

[myreia]

Sketches of Times Lost

Day 18: Hackneyed

thancred attempts to confess his feelings. it does not go as planned. thancred x wol, pre-relationship. asexual wol. set during arr. written for ffxivwrite2024. rated: general 1868 words ao3 link

There is a plan in mind, he’s not ashamed of that.

He has thought about it for weeks. Months, if he’s honest. Pulling and tugging on the threads of what if and when, imagined scenarios chasing themselves around his mind in varying shades of… well. Romantic, he would call it. He has never fully thought of himself as a romantic in earnest before, though some of his past lovers would have called him such. But there is a certain panache to the word, a sense, an atmosphere, that he finds compelling. Especially where Aureia is concerned.

It still surprises him that he is falling for her, his friend. Perhaps the closest friend he has ever allowed himself to have. She has witnessed him at his worst and at his best—the small triumphs, the overwhelming losses, pain and grief and joy. He has made a complete fool of himself in front of her more than once, sometimes in small trivial ways, other times less so. The time he spouted improvised poetry at a dancer in the Quicksand. How hard he tried to impress Yugiri Mistwalker when the shinobi joined their cause.

His butchering of the situation with Ifrit. His possession by an Ascian. Other moments he would rather not say.

He did not want to admit it at first. It would be easier for both of them if he did not feel the way he did. He knows better than anyone that romantic entanglements are best kept at arm’s length, far away from the goings on of the Scions. They are a weak spot. An exploit. A risk. He kept his distance from her after the Praetorium for this very reason, resisting the ache growing in his heart with every passing day by falling back on hold habits. Drinking more in the hopes of ignoring it. Distracting himself with a rather impressive list of paramours.

He has a sneaking suspicion Urianger has taken note and this will come back to bite him in the arse.

It took Moenbryda walloping him over the head—metaphorically, of course—with a disarming comment to make him realize how foolish he was being.

“You know what your problem is, Thancred? You’re too busy looking ten feet ahead for one problem or another to notice the blessing that is right in front of you.”

He never thanked her for that. It’s too late now.

Perhaps that’s why he has come to his decision. Moenbryda’s death sits heavy in their hearts, forcing them all to stare the fleetingness of life in the face. She seized hers with joy and fearlessness, hanging on to nothing. It’s time he did the same.

And so he has to do it right.

Aureia lets out a whoop as she springs up the rest of the stairs, racing him to the top. She reaches the battlements first, face flushed, hair a mess, ruby eyes sparkling, and spins around to face him as he follows suit. “Look at that,” she says, raising her hands in triumph. “I win.”

He chuckles, panting lightly, and sweeps his hair out of his eyes. “Was it a race?” he replies, leaning casually against the battlements. “I hadn’t noticed.”

She rolls her eyes and continues down the path, trailing her fingers across the coarse stonework. Mor Dhona stretches out before them, bright as the stars above. Lanterns float through the square, warming the aetheryte’s cool brilliance with their golden glow, illuminating the flowing crowds below. Further up the hill, the market bustles with activity, late night vendors selling trinkets and baubles, and people stumbling from Rowena’s café with drinks in hand. Adventurers loiter on the steps to the Seventh Heaven, carousing loudly. A group of dancers giggle with glee, moving merrily in rhythm to a drum as a trio of bards fill the plaza with their music.

All in all, it is a good night for festivities. Bright, clear, and only a hint of gloam.

Aureia hums to herself, folding her arms and leaning out over the parapet. She may be quiet in a crowd and shy away from the centre of attention, but she loves being around people. Immersing herself in the rhythms of a city, captivated by the pulse of life and the vibrancy of it all. It’s one of the things he finds endlessly fascinating about her, this paradox of extroversion and introversion.

“I wonder where Gerolt went,” she says after a moment, squinting as she scans the plaza. Her hair trails in the breeze and falls about her face. She pushes it back idly, twisting it around her finger, and knots it at the top of her head. Shorter pieces fall away, brushing across the nape of her neck. “He all but paled and ran for the hills when he saw Rowena earlier.”

“Perhaps he did run for the literal hills. I wouldn’t blame him if he did.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Oh? And here I thought you had no thoughts on the illustrious lady of the House of Splendours.”

He chokes. “No,” he says, a little strangled. “I don’t. Did you have to put it quite like that?”

“What? House of Splendours or illustrious lady?” She glances at him and grins. “If it’s the former, take it up with Rowena, she’s the one who named it.”

He catches her eye, regarding her in silence. His gaze lingers on her face, her hair, the way the silver studs in her upper ear catch the lanternlight. She hasn’t changed much since he met her. There is perhaps a touch of severity around her jaw and creases in the corners of her eyes, but she is still as vibrant as the spells she once cast. It seems so long ago that she stumbled into his life, and yet he has known many others for longer.

Much can happen over the course of two years.

“What?” Aureia says, eyes wide.

He says nothing, smiling quietly. If he could tell her now that she is beautiful, he would. He can’t remember when he first had that thought. Perhaps he’s always thought it.

Music wafts over them, slow and gentle.

Thancred pushes off the wall and gives her a mock little bow, extending his hand. “Would you have this dance, milady?” he says.

She pauses, a little laugh humming on her lips. “What are you doing?”

“Inviting you to dance.”

“Interesting.” She takes a step towards him, her chin raised archly. “You know I don’t dance.”

He straightens and steps into her. “I think you will tonight.”

“Do you remember what happened the last time you asked me to dance?”

“I’ve never asked you to.” His hand brushes his arm. She doesn’t move away. “I seem to remember that the dance I supposedly asked you to join me in was a sparring match where you routing me so thoroughly I don’t think my ego has recovered.”

She gazes at him, her eyes alight with joy. “Your poor ego.”

“Terribly bruised, you see.”

“If that’s so, why risk it again? I’ll only thrash you a second time.”

He chuckles and leans in, his lips a hair’s breath from her ear. “Because I am not asking you to spar, Aureia darling,” he says. The word slips out unexpectedly. He has never called her darling before. Too soon? Too late? He doesn’t care. Even a small deviation cannot ruin this night. “Dance with me.”

She hesitates, frozen for the briefest of moments. In the space between breaths, he wonders if she will pull away—it’s a delicate thing, this line they walk, and she has as much to lose as he does. But sometimes the risk is worth it. He can only hope she can see it, too.

Aureia slips her hand into his. “Fine,” she says at last. “One dance.”

“Only one?”

“Just one.”

He sweeps her into his arms and they dance.

The music washes over them and they move as one, fumbling their steps and knocking against each other. At last they find a compromise, gently swaying together as they turn on the spot, his hand on her waist, her head against his shoulder. Together they watch the plaza below, sparkling with light and life.

How is it that the simplest things are always the most difficult to say?

“Aur?” he murmurs.

She raises her head. “Yes?”

Her hair has untwisted from its knot, now falling loosely about her shoulders. Twelve above, she is gorgeous. If he is about to admit what he wants to—what he needs to—then there is no better time to do so than now.

Thancred presses a hand to her cheek and leans in close.

She inhales sharply and turns her head.

He pauses. “I…”

Aureia lets go of his hands and pulls away, staring determinedly at the plaza below, her jaw clenched. “I don’t know what you’re doing, Thancred, but I think you have a very, very wrong idea about me,” she says.

He frowns, too taken aback to feel the hurt he knows will come later. “I—Aureia. Are you… upset?”

“Hells, yes!” She rounds on him, red eyes blazing. “I am mad at you. I am so very, very mad at you—”

“I thought—”

“You thought what? You’ve barely spoken to me since Moenbryda’s death. I thought this was going to be a time for us to talk, not…” She makes a face. “You are trying to seduce me, aren’t you.”

He sighs, passing a hand across his face. “Assuredly not, no.”

“Then what is this? Bringing me up here on a pretty night, asking me to dance, staging this scene like some hackneyed plot you pulled out of a bard’s—ugh.” She rolls her eyes and storms across the battlements. “I’m not interested in all this. I thought you would have at least caught on to that by now.”

He follows her, keeping a careful distance as they tromp down the stairs. “On to what? My apologies, but I do not follow—”

“You’re going to make me come out and say it, aren’t you?” She hits the bottom landing and turns around, arms folded protectively across her chest. “I don’t… want that. Any of that. I never have. I never will.”

“Any of what?” To his surprise, the sting of rejection has not come yet. Perhaps because he doesn’t quite understand what she is rejecting him from. “Aureia, if I have done something so terribly offensive to you, please tell me. I will listen.”

“You’re not the first to have told me that, and yet I’ve yet to meet someone who understands.” She gives him a flat look, her mouth twisting as if she is trying to hold back tears. He has never seen her quite so furious yet vulnerable. “Tell me honestly, would you be happy being with me if I said I never wanted to sleep with you?”

He blinks. Of all the questions she could have asked, this is one he has never thought of.

She spreads her hands and drops them to her sides, as if his silence has proved a point he didn’t know he was making. “And there’s your answer,” she says and vanishes into the night.

[avirael]

FFxivWrite 2024

Day 21 - Shade

Traveling so close to Ul’dah for the first again felt dangerous. While the city in reality was still quite far off and Highbridge was in fact closer to Gridanian territory than Ul’dah, A’viloh couldn’t help but feel a little worried.

Rael had told him to keep the hood of his cloak up at all times, to hide his hair and ears, but he thought that made them look even more suspicious.

Fortunately Merlwyb had informed them that her and Kan-E-Senna had pressured the Syndicate into not making the allegations against them public for now but if any soldiers or even members of the Crystal Braves would recognise them, there would likely be trouble…

Higiri and Doware had waited for them at Highbridge after having scouted the area for Ilberd’s men. A’viloh found it strange to see them in their shinobi garbs, he had known that they were trained that way, but so far had only seen them working regular tasks in regular clothes at Revenant’s Toll.

Apparently they had seen some of the Crystal Braves headed for Halatali, the old training grounds of the Coliseum. They suspected that Ilberd planned to have Raubahn executed there, away from the publics eyes, and that now that the Flame General had been moved there, they would need to hurry to prevent his death.

Almost at Halati, they encountered Hozan, who had kept an eye on the entrance and informed them that Ilberd had arrived already. While him and Rael agreed that they should immediately enter Halatali and free Raubahn from his captors before something happened to him, A’viloh felt like something - or rather someone - was missing.

“But where is Yugiri?”, he asked and looked from one shinobi to the other.

“I am here.”, a voice echoed from a dark corner and, so far invisible to his eyes, the form of a familiar Au Ra woman stepped out of the shade.

“Yugiri!”, A’viloh exclaimed. He was so glad to see her well that he couldn’t stop himself from embracing her. Lightly she chuckled and waited for A’viloh to let go off her before she spoke again, “Excuse me for staying hidden so long. I was curious if you would notice my presence.”

In fact he hadn’t at all. For a while when they had stayed together at Camp Dragonhead Yugiri had tried to teach him a few of her tricks. He had picked up a few skills regarding how to fight with daggers but her ninjutsu or her abilities to almost make herself invisible had still been a mystery to A’viloh. He was still greatly impressed by the fact that she was able to hide in most environments without much trouble and could vanish and appear as she saw fit, almost like she became one with the shadows around her.

“My fellow shinobi and I have shadowed the Crystal Braves’ every step in hopes in hopes of learning the Scions’ whereabouts.”, Yugiri explained. “Regrettably, our investigation has yet to yield any useful information. Pray forgive us.”

While this was not the news any of them had hoped for, neither did it surprise A’viloh. He had tried to accept that maybe he would never learn what had happened to them, especially if they really were dead. However there also still was that tiny voice of hope in his mind that told him that no news about them could ultimately still be good news.

Before A’viloh could speak, Alphinaud answered for them all, finding exactly the right words.

“You need not apologize, my lady - we are grateful for all that you have done on our behalf. Besides, Raubahn is no less a friend, and we cannot well abandon him to his fate.”

Alphinaud really had a talent for words and A’viloh couldn’t agree more. Raubahn had believed in him since they had met at the first banquet of the sultana he had been invited to. He also had been the one freeing him and Rael when the Crystal Braves had arrested them for the alleged assassination of sultana Nanamo.

Yes, A’viloh considered Raubahn a friend. And this time he planned to be the one saving one of his friends instead of being the one who needs saving.

[amoebaforce]

How do you think some few characters (Hien, Yugiri, Gotsetsu, the twins maybe, or really whoever you think would have the most fun reaction I just want to know it isn't just me who thinks about this) would react to the WoL forgetting to take off or just not taking off the imperial armor after the quest where you get it in stormblood? Mayhaps due to comfort reasons or just being so used to changing armor often that the thought never crossed their mind that it was the Wrong Armor.

I swear this totally isn't exactly who you think this is and I'm totally not just wanting input from more people on this kinda thing (lying lmao)

ohh this definitely has comedy potential, anon... but also some angst potential, given all that uniform represents. here's some little blurbs for you <3

characters featured: Hien Rijin, Yugiri Mistwalker, Gosetsu Daiten tags: very light angst, this one is pretty spoiler free, gn!WoL

Hien stares for an improper amount of time, feeling his brow knit tighter with each passing moment. Is this a prank? Some kind of joke he's too out of touch to get? But as the seconds tick to minutes, the punchline never comes, and Hien clears his throat.

"Are you... going to change?" he asks, struggling to phrase the question eloquently. The WoL blinks at him.

"Change?" they repeat. Hien gestures to their breastplate. As their eyes follow suit, the Warrior blanches. "Oh, shit! Sorry, I wasn't even thinking-"

"No, no!" Hien blurts. "There is no rush, I just thought-"

They both pause, realizing they are each apologizing for imagined slights. Hien's pinched expression cracks first. A chuckle rumbles in his chest, and before he knows it, the two are laughing at themselves.

"Thanks for reminding me," the Warrior says sheepishly, already taking off their gauntlets.

Hien bobs his chin, feeling his posture slip just a tad looser. At least he wasn't the only one feeling a little clueless. "Of course."

***

Yugiri knows all too well the visceral discomfort of disguising oneself as an enemy -- so when she steps into the hallway after a long post-mission debrief to find the WoL still dressed in Imperial armor, the shinobi bristles.

"Why do you still wear it?" she demands.

Her tone leaves little room for speculation about what it is. The Warrior freezes, suddenly feeling as guilty as a child caught with their hand in the pantry, although they can't exactly explain why.

"I... forgot about it," they admit. Yugiri stiffens ever so slightly, and the WoL cringes. Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say.

"I'm always changing armor," they add hurriedly. "After a while, it all starts to feel the same."

Yugiri's gaze slices up and down their body once more before she turns away, folding her arms.

"Perhaps. But it does not all look the same. You would be wise to remember that."

She disappears around the corner, quick and silent as a knife.

***

Gosetsu isn't the jumpy sort, but when a figure strides across the courtyard in that unmistakable metal plate, the old samurai finds his heart gripped in a swelling panic. His mind swims through a dozen questions at once. How can an Imperial soldier stalk these halls without kicking up a swarm of guards? Why aren't there any calls to arms ringing through the air? Are they under attack? Where is Hien? Then, just as his hand dips toward his sword, Gosetsu does a double take.

There are familiar weapons strapped to that soldier's back; there is a familiar set of eyes peaking out of their helmet. It is no enemy infiltrator, but the Warrior of Light themselves, still swathed in the armor they'd worn on their earlier mission. Gosetsu's skin prickles with relief.

"Ho there," he calls, willing his voice not to waver. The Warrior gives him a friendly wave, slowing to a stop.

"Hey, Gosetsu," they say cheerily. "What's up?"

The samurai cocks a brow. "I should ask you the very same! You might well give an old man a heart attack walking around like that."

The Warrior jolts as his words sink in, then scrambles to take off their helmet. An apology bubbles in their throat, but Gosetsu claps them on the shoulder before they can form it into coherent words. His laugh booms.

"Ah, but maybe it is good to keep old men on their toes, too!" he muses.

Then, Gosetsu turns and waltzes off, leaving the Warrior standing bewildered in the center of the courtyard.

[thevikingwoman]

15 Lines of Dialogue Rules: Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well!

Thank you for the tag @coldshrugs and @impossible-rat-babies!

tagging: @myreia @roguelioness @janzoo @consulaaris @scionshtola

@ubejamjar @gatheredfates @bearlytolerant @gefiltefished and everyone else who wants to!

(sorry for the many paragraphs attempting to working around tumblr's new limit)

These are all Meryta / ffxiv, from published fics and WIPs, you also get a peak at my awful wip naming (contrasted with my struggles with fic naming 😂). This was more picking lines I liked and it's good to see your OCs voice? Actually helpful!

“I should have foreseen the danger. The beastmen, the Primal... those are not simple problems.” She can hardly forget it, leaping through the sky. She does not want to think of it, but if the time comes, she will deal with it. She folds her hand in his and reaches to kiss him. “I doubt your father expected you to deal with a Primal, Emmanellain.” - Reprieve

 Here we go again, she thinks, do you really want to do this again? “You should invite him to dinner,” she says out loud instead. - Distance

“Sorry, that was unjust of me. I’m just very worried about my friend. I spend a long time worried about where she was and if she even was alive and now – now I worry more.” - Wrong

“Emmanellain. You're handsome enough on your own. Stop it.” - The Perils of Ishgard Publishing

“You’re injured,” she murmurs. - Under Familiar Stars

“I wouldn’t say no to a game,” she says, tilting her head towards the cardplayers, and winks. “Here I thought I could offer your something better, in ways of entertainment.” “And what may that be, Tansui?” - Passing Through

“I wish I could stay,” she says, when she’s done with the second portion, “but – and I should help with cleanup,” she continues as she puts her dish in the sink, and he waves her off. - Solace and Breakfast

“I wanted to write this letter, but – words are eluding me.” “A letter? For whom?” [Alisaie asks] “It’s not important.” - Letters and Longing

“Yes. No. I am not.” - wip (relationship talk)

“I want – Tansui.” He bucks his hips into her hand and sucks [er nipple]. His hand on her hip, holding her in a bruising grip. She sinks her nails into his shoulders. “I can’t wait. I need you.” - wip (relationship talk)

“Come,” she says and grabs both Yugiri’s and Lyse’s arms. “We should have time enough to taste some food, and we can ask the trader all the same. If he doesn’t know him, we can spilt up after.” - wip (the steppe)

“I know how babies are made, if that is what you ask, Alphinaud.” - wip (after roadtrip)

“I am. What are you going to do about it?” - wip (another Tansui tryst)

“It was – “ meant for me, but she can’t voice it. Not now, and perhaps never. “—heroic,” she settles on. “He saved us all.” - wip (emmy grief)

“Maybe I’m not telling.” Tansui chuckles. “Well, if you’re so stuck on pirates, perhaps a handsome pirate has rescued a beautiful princess.” “And what will the pirate ask for in return for such a dashing rescue?” - wip (tansui roleplay) good bye we're never talking about this wip again

[annieruthie]

FFXIV Write 2024 | Day 2 | Horizon

Spoilers: Stormblood Level 64

Characters: Annie Ruthie (Warrior of Light) Yugiri Mistwalker

See end of work for notes ^-^

⋆ ★ ⋆

“Giri,” Annie called.

The seated figure on the coastline turned in response, expression softening after catching glimpse of who was speaking. Her daggers were sprawled out onto the rock beside her. “Forgive me for making you search,” she called in response. Annie shook their head, “No matter.” They planted a kiss on Yugiri’s forehead as they took their seat.

Annie listened closely as Yugiri began to speak. They leaned their head against the Raen’s, fingers intertwining. “- That you even spoke with my mother and father,” she said, tears barely making it down her cheeks before Annie was wiping them away with their thumbs. The Raen chuckled in appreciation and self-deprecation. “My apologies, I don’t mean to-” she started, interrupted by Annie’s lips on hers. Yugiri smiled as Annie’s head found its way atop her chest. The pair remained in solemn silence for minutes on end, simply basking in the rare, quiet presence of the other. Annie watched as the sun slowly set into the horizon over yonder.

“You know I love you, right?” they asked to Yugiri.

Annie felt Yugiri let out an approving moan into the top of their head.

It was then that the pair noticed an imperial airship within the clouds.

⋆ ★ ⋆

A short one to start out with. I've been wanting to write this scene for ages; this was such a beautiful scene between Annie and Yugiri and I want to do it justice. I'm still not completely satisfied with it, but that's the point of this, isn't it?

@bananarose for gpose credits ♡ you handled them beautifully

[windup-dragoon]

FFXIVwrite 2023

Prompt - Fish out of Water A person away from his or her usual environment or activities

Content Warning: Mention of Pregnancy, Endwalker MSQ

Word Count: 1549

Set during the months between finding a new route to the void, Kiri asks that Zero and Estinien accompany her to Doma to pay Hien a visit. Although out of place, Zero is never too far away from Kiri.

Zero was truly a fish out of water if there had ever been one. From Radz-at-han, Garlemald, and to the warm climate of Doma, all an exciting, if not exhausting new experience.

She could manage well enough with her fellows beside her, namely Kiri who could talk her way out of a paper bag with a laugh and a charming smile. Estinien too was never far behind, mindfully watching Kiri throughout the months they spent together. With them, Zero felt it a little easier to breathe. They never expected her to be anything else but herself.

This week, in-between talks of how best to reach the 13th again, they were given pardon to a little field trip of sorts. A short visit to Doma at Kiri’s request which no one seemed inclined to deny. Vrtra would stay at Radz-at-han in case news developed in the meantime, the trio sailing for Doma the next morning.

“You are attuned to the aetheryte in Doma, are you not?” Zero asked abruptly as they filed off one ship in Kugane only to greet another, smaller, boat to take them further. “Surely you could have gone ahead.”

“Aye,” Estinien, hauling a small bag of goods, climbed the boat first before offering a hand to the warrior of light.

Kiri accepted happily, a smile brightly painted on her face as she gave Estinien a pat on the cheek. “And miss this sorta attention? Never.”

Since having met her in person, away from the shadow of Zenos, Zero had noticed a change in the silver haired woman. Always smiling, always a hand close to her stomach. She had begun to wonder if the food at Radz-at-han was simply too rich for Kiri. Excessive eating of, albeit delicious, food would certainly have an effect.

But when Zero thought to bring it up, Kiri would simply smile and hum with her melodious laughter.

“Truthfully,” Kiri began once they had taken off from port, her hand gliding on the water's surface. “Using the crystal to travel upsets my stomach.” She gave a soft pat of her belly, looking dreamily out at the Ruby sea. “And the fresh air is nice, ain’t it?”

From the Ruby Sea to a small village named Namai, the trio traveled with light, idle banter. Estinien and Zero would clear the path of monsters or the ilk while Kiri diverted their attention to point out flora she liked or to show Zero tiger cubs watching them from the brush malms away. The scenery itself was colorful to Zero’s eyes, different from Radz-at-han certainly, but still appealing. Now only if they serve spicy curry…

At Namai they were greeted by a woman, Yugiri, who seemed well acquainted with Kiri. Small of stature but strong of presence. Politely she introduced herself and in typical Zero custom, a tilt of her hat was given in return.

“I apologize on behalf of Lord Hien,” Yugiri started once they were on their way again. “He is otherwise occupied in a meeting with G'raha Tia at the moment.”

“G'raha?” It was in unison that Kiri and Estinien replied, making Zero look them over curiously.

“It was at Lord Hien’s request that they meet.” Yugiri continued, a small smile on her lips. “He was eager to meet the famed G'raha Tia that you speak so fondly of.”

Kiri and Yugiri shared a light chuckle that had Zero feeling as though she missed some context. Partly she wondered what tales Kiri had told them of G'raha, and partly wondered if Kiri spoke of her as well.

Kiri had a way about her storytelling that always felt like a vivid dream. Zero found herself wanting to hear everything about Kiri; especially the stories where she could hardly speak without breaking into a rumbling fit of laughter. Did she weave stories about their time together as well? Nothing funny particularly stood out in Zero’s mind, but deep down, in some unknowable place in her heart, she hoped Kiri told extravagant stories of their shared experiences. For what purpose she did not yet understand, only that she hoped Kiri’s face lit up for her the way it did for everyone else.

Reaching Doma wasn’t particularly interesting for Zero. She silently took in the landscape, recognizing acts of war that had ravaged it with a heavy heart. But yet the villagers of Namai had been in high spirits, working toward a brighter future. And the enclave was no different. Children raced down the streets while adults went about their daily chores, turning to smile as they made their entrance from the pier.

There was hope to be seen in these faces. War wasn’t eternal to them, not like the conflict that made the void so dreadful. Would she one day know this feeling? Or hear children laughing while playing in patches of warm sunlight? Was there hope for the 13th?

“Kiri!” A voice intruded on Zero’s thoughts as two men emerged from the manor before them. G'raha tagged along behind the first, giving Zero and Estinien a brief wave.

“Oi, havin’ friends over without me, eh?” Kiri laughed. The man, while practicing an air of sophisticated calm, practically raced up to the group and indulged himself in lifting Kiri off the ground in an embrace.

Together they danced, laughing and teasing each other with small, fluttering kisses on the cheek. Zero, much like Estinien, turned away as if she were the one intruding on their personal time.

This was the man that Kiri spoke so frequently about, Hien. Zero recognized him from countless descriptions she had been told as she and Kiri ate bowls of curry in Radz-at-han. Seeing them together now only made it easier to see why Kiri enjoyed talking about him. Like watching sunlight on a summer afternoon. They felt bright and warm.

Hien put Kiri back on her feet before kneeling, his hands carefully placed on her rounded stomach. Zero cocked a brow, again feeling as though she shouldn’t be watching.

“Hello to you too, little one. I’ve missed you both.” He spoke so softly Zero thought perhaps she misheard him.

To Estinien, Yugiri, and G'raha, Zero turned, head tilted slightly. “She is with child?”

The group exchanged a wide eyed look, Yugiri being the first to smile before the men. “Yes she is.”

G'raha cleared his throat, attempting his best effort not to laugh. “Her stomach wasn’t nearly so round when she first met you, was it?”

Zero shuffled in place, crossing her arms as she gave it some thought. “…The food at Radz-at-han is very amenable… And she is never far from a plate of fruits…”

At this Estinien howled and G'raha choked on laughter.

“What? It isn’t too abstract to believe, is it?”

Yugiri gently placed a hand on Zero’s shoulder, smiling in a similar manner as Kiri would have. “You’re absolutely right about that. If there is one thing Kirishimi loves, it’s good food.”

“What’s this ‘bout food?” Practically deserting Hien where he stood, Kiri eagerly stepped closer to her fellows. She wore the look of a cat who had heard the dinner bell. 

A light flutter of laughter echoed amongst the party while Zero steadied her attention to Kiri. She truly was a fish out of water. When you exist in a world without reason to celebrate such things as new life, a world that had no use for newborn children, what then did one do in such circumstances? 

In any other situation, Zero would approach Kiri about it, asking for clarification of customs. One should be happy to hear the news of a child, right? Perhaps say something pleasant, like … good job? You did well? None seemed to suffice, at least not in her mind. 

Briefly she wondered about her own mother, and all the other mothers and newborn children that existed in her world before it was torn apart. Before darkness swallowed any sort of happiness or joy. A heaviness filled her chest as the thought expanded. How warm had her mothers embrace been? Was this what it meant to trust and love someone? The trust one held for their mother, the very reason for her existence. 

“Zero?” Kiri’s voice chimed like a bell beside her, drawing her away from the bitterness that tightened her throat. The Warrior of Light had moved closer, her head tilted in her typical curious fashion. “Everythin’ alright?” 

Everyone else had started a new conversation, a discussion of a planned dinner, of course. But for once, Kiri hadn’t been a part of it. Zero looked away, crossing her arms again. “..What does one say when you are happy for them?” 

Kiri blinked in response. “What’cha mean?” 

“To you. I want to say I am happy for you but I don’t know how to express it. Certainly there is a custom for this, right?” Zero never met Kiri’s eyes as she spoke, but the gentle hum of a laugh was more than enough for her. 

“Ohhh.” Her laughter grew, bright and contagious as always. “Oh Zero, you can say ��Congratulations!’ Or just sayin’ yer happy for me is more than enough.” 

Before Zero could repeat the chosen word, a pair of arms wrapped around her. She stammered a hushed ‘congratulations’ before pulling at the brim of her hat. 

“Thank you, Zero.”

[onwesterlywinds]

PROMPT #30: Two Heads Are Better Than One

Contains sexual themes. Do not read if under 18. Edge Marbrand belongs to @greenmagic-oilspill!

It was something of a ritual for the Marbrand-Riots to bring an antique arak upon their state visits to the lord of Doma. The custom had at first extended to one bottle, then to two - one for the official exchange of gifts between the nations of Ala Mhigo and Doma, and then another to ensure that there were ample spirits to go around on the evening of their visit.

On their first visit following the Final Days, Ashelia Riot had made a point of bottling the purest freshwater in the Lochs (sourced from a spring in Demilune) before her and her husband's departure for the Far East. She had kept its stopper intact throughout their journey, even as Edge had complained of thirst during their airship flight and as her own throat itched from dust on their stop at the Azim Steppe - but as the two of them sat across from Hien at the kotatsu in his personal quarters, she at last opened the bottle and distributed it over their first pours of arak.

"For all the times we've shared our traditional spirits," she announced, with as much gravitas as Yugiri introducing them to the assembled people of Doma earlier that afternoon, "you've yet to partake of arak in true Ala Mhigan custom: accompanied by spring water from as close to its production as possible."

"Unfortunately," Edge said to Hien, "my wife has very strong opinions about her drinks."

Hien brushed him off, if only for the moment, with a telling smile. To Ashe, he replied with a question. "And you would insist that this is the preferred method of consumption?"

"But of course," she countered. "Similar to how I can scarcely enjoy a glass of sake without you, or any of its other aficionados, informing me it can only truly be enjoyed while sitting in a Hingan hot spring. Or some such nonsense."

"In that case," Hien replied, "I believe we should provide a comparison." He stood from the heated table, crossed the room to the door, and knocked twice to signal his Lupin attendant; she heard only the Doman word for "water" before Hien returned, as smug as a Namazu. The door reopened scarcely a minute later to admit a young servant with a bright blue bottle of Doma's own fresh spring water.

He laid out another spare glass for each of them, into which he poured yet another serving of arak.

"Arak steeped in the waters of its origin," he said, with a nod to Ashe herself, "or arak flavored with the fine flows of Doma. We shall each drink, and then we shall each give our measured opinion."

He toasted the both of them, and then took a sip from each of his two glasses. Ashe and Edge followed suit - though about halfway through, Edge took a much more pronounced sip from the sake with Doman water and made a pointed face.

For a time, they sat there doing only that: drinking, and watching each other. Ashe's first inclination as to her own drunkenness was that she could not stop staring at the curve of her husband's lips as he drank or the swell of his throat as he swallowed, and that Hien's deep, throaty chuckle had turned warm in a way that filled her down to her toes.

"What do you think?" Hien demanded of Edge at last, already halfway to bursting with laughter. "You are by far the most impartial of us, in this at least-"

"And in most things, truth be told," Ashe added.

"-and so it follows," Hien continued, only barely keeping a semblance of composure, "that you hold the objective - nay, the definitive opinion as to which serving of sake is preferable."

Edge stared into the empty bottom of each glass, then between Ashe and Hien.

"I think," Edge said, "that you are both absolutely out of your minds."

Ashe burst into giggles only a split second before Hien did.

"And," he continued, "that perhaps I need another sampling of each before I can decide."

But all six of their glasses had long since been drained of arak. Instead he leaned his shoulder into Ashe's and parted his lips purposefully. She kissed him with as much passion as she had the evening prior, during their first moment of true privacy at the inn in Kugane. Then they broke apart, and Edge ran his hand up her thigh as he leaned over the table into Hien's open mouth.

Ashe did not begrudge her husband the enthusiasm with which he kissed the Doman lord - on the contrary, the flush on her face only grew to watch them caress one another. She might even have been content to watch the entirety of the proceedings as a spectator, only Hien made a beckoning motion for her to join in, and moaned as she obliged.

Together, their mouths all tasted of little else but anise.

She and Edge trailed their kisses down along either side of Hien's beard and face and neck, then helped him divest of his clothing: Edge worked to safely lower his beautiful, intricate robe to the tatami while Ashe unfastened the straps of his steel chestplate, his gauntlets, and all the other pieces that protected him. Edge brought his mouth to Hien's broad shoulder, Ashe to his exposed nipple; they reached in unison for his cock, fully erect or else close to it.

"Here," said Edge, and clambered around the kotatsu, the better to guide Hien onto his lap. Ashe followed suit, lowering herself without the table between them; she sank to her knees before Hien then, as she had sworn never to do again for any other man - /perhaps for a Hext dynasty/, she'd said to Edge only once.

Hien watched her as she took one of the thin leather cords from his chestplate and used it to tie up her own hair.

"You're sure you're ready for the both of us?" Edge asked him. His voice was low, honeyed - seductive in a manner he so rarely was able to be with Ashe, after so many years of their marriage.

So mesmerized was Hien by Ashe's own preparations that she wondered for a moment if he had heard Edge at all; then he moved to relieve her of her own coat, tossing it gently over the top of his own. His gaze roved along the curves of her breasts as he replied, "Quite ready."

Ashe reached to undo the fastenings to his trousers and brought the fine linen weave down from his hips for herself and for Edge, a slow revealing. Edge spat into his palm, then gave himself a quick stroke; the simple, mundane gesture was one Ashe was so used to, and yet one that never failed to send a shiver through her. She saw his first gentle push not firsthand, but in the response in Hien's body: the way he rid himself of tension with all the learned skill of an Ala Mhigan monk. His mouth remained open, the better to accommodate the little gasps that passed through him.

Not for the first time, Ashe considered the thinness of the chamber's paper doors - and in the absence of trust only for herself, she leaned down and traced the head of Hien's cock with her tongue.

"By the kami," Hien whispered, and then offered up another phrase in Doman that she could not make out.

"Her mouth does feels incredible," Edge murmured into Hien's ear, accompanying the words with another thrust. "Doesn't it?"

"Y-Yes," Hien breathed. He cupped her face with a tenderness that was not wholly gentle, brushing his thumb back and forth along her cheek. For all his evident pleasure, he took care to remain stalwart for her, to avoid thrusting deeper than her mouth could accommodate in response to Edge's own movements. The consideration was more than welcome, particularly after all the drinking she'd done: though her tenure in the Corpse Brigade had inured her throat to far rougher treatment, that had all been well over ten years ago.

Only with that thought did the full ridiculousness of bedding the lord of Doma alongside her husband fully register. It prompted a wave of laughter that might have distracted from the task at hand - except her husband, too, was laughing, and Hien as well. Their mouths met again, briefly, only for Hien to break away with a half-strangled moan as Ashe ran her available hand along the inside of his thigh.

"Please, my friends," he said. "I'm going to- I would not have you-"

Ashe could already taste the first bitter drops of his spend, and so she sat back on her heels - the better to watch Hien's every reaction as he came with her husband's cock still inside him. He was grinning again before his orgasm fully ended, and he protested not at all when Ashe pressed her lips to his on her way to Edge's.

For a moment there was a spark to her husband's eyes, and to Hien's own, that might have signaled a readiness for a second round: their shared proximity, their overall mirth, the lingering mouthfeel of anise and come on her tongue might each have been enough to prompt her to reach anew for her husband. But Hien was spent in more ways than one; she recognized the fatigue underlying his pleasure, one she had all too often come to associate with the burdens of leadership. She kissed him one last time, then helped Edge bring him over to his futon to permit him his rest.

***

"Ashe," Edge whispered as they boarded their ferry back to Kugane. "Your hair."

"What about it?" She had done precious little with it, or with her makeup, upon their waking in the royal bed that morning, but both men had assured her she had looked-

Her fingers brushed the leather tie that held her hair in place. As the thin ornamentation bearing the crest of the Rijin clan slipped across the pad of her thumb, she could only think that the smug looks on Yugiri's and Gosetsu's faces at last made sense.

[hythlodaeus-mynewoldfriend]

Rare Pair Week 2023: Meet Cute

Well last week was all for Sib and Thanny and this week gets to be about Demos and Yugiri! So please have their first interaction from way back in A Realm Reborn.  no warnings. word count: 1.4k

Demos grunts as he puts the wooden crate onto the cart, pushing it to the side when Thancred comes up next to him. “Well other than the few sacks over there,” Thancred says with a small groan, “we’ve got everything loaded.” He claps his hands free of dust once pushing the crate into place, leaning against the cart with folded arms as Demos starts to make sure everything is secure. The rogue’s eyes don’t leave their mysterious guest as she talks to some of the refugees, a small smirk forming on his lips. “Do you ever wonder just what she looks like underneath that hood of hers?”

Demos glances over, shrugging, “Doesn’t seem that important.”

Thancred rolls his eyes, “Can you not humor me, Demos? She must be hiding something if she’s choosing to wear that dark of clothing and a full mask in the heat of Thanalan.”

“Well if she is then it’s none of our business to pry. You told me she just came all the way over from the East where the Empire is in full control,” Thancred nods, “Then there’s no need to try and push her to take off her mask. Wasn’t long ago the Empire had some strongholds here.”

“So you’re implying she’s a wanted woman? Which means she must be a thing of beauty underneath.”

“Really, Thancred?”

“What?” Demos lets out a heavy sigh, shaking his head, “No, tell me. What is it you’re trying to say to me?”

“Didn’t you just break things off with Siberite?”

His jaw tightens, arms folding tighter, “It didn’t just happen. That ended a long time ago.”

He huffs out a laugh, “Two and a half weeks ago isn’t a long time ago.”

“Might as well be,” he grumbles with a wave of his hand, “How do you know that any way? Didn’t think that was something you'd keep count of.”

“I don’t. Siberite does. You all still send me with her on missions just like yesterday.”

“Surprised she still talks about me,” Thancred chuckles, “Guess I just have that effect.”

Demos snorts, “Not really. I had to listen to that woman talk for three hours straight on her latest conquests.”

“Latest conquests,” he balks, scoffing with a shake of his head, “Did she happen to tell you any names?”

“I said she talked for three hours straight, didn’t say I listened for three hours.”

“Well how is that helpful to me?”

“It’s not, but you know what would be? Going and talking to her about it like you should have done.”

“She said she wanted nothing to do with me.”

Demos looks upward, with a sigh, Oh Menphina help me with these two, “Look if you’re feeling the need to get involved with someone else connected to the Scions I’d highly advise you against that. And especially not with someone that’s just had to leave her whole life behind to start anew in what pretty much feels like a new world.”

Thancred huffs, putting his hands up, “Okay, fine. I’ll leave it be for now, but not because you told me.” He looks over the cart as Demos tosses on the last sack, “Now if you don’t mind, I believe my work here is done, so I’m going to have some fun, twould seem I prefer the company of the local tavern anyway.” 

Demos shakes his head, watching as Thancred stalks off to the tavern across the way, giving one final tug on the leather straps. He turns to his patiently waiting caribou, Oisín, giving a solid pat on his neck, “Hopefully those two are the kind of people that need to be dramatic about things first. Just hope they get over it soon.” The animal gives a shake of his head, Demos giving a nice scratch between his antlers, “Yeah, probably not.” He sighs, petting the animal once more, “In the meantime Oisín we gotta get this stuff up north.” He just begins to secure Oisín to the cart when he can feel someone approaching him. 

“You are making your way to Mor Dhona, is that correct?” 

“Yep,” he turns, looking down to see the hooded woman looking up at him, “Thought you’d be on the carts with the others? Can’t have run out of room for you.”

“They haven’t no, but I am told you will be bringing up the rear of this caravan.” He nods, “Then I shall like to join you. I am told one of your best fighters is leading the way and I should like to ensure my people’s safety.”

“Mean you’re more than welcome so long as you don’t mind being in tight quarters,” he smiles gesturing to the small bench and then to the cart itself, “or ridin’ on top of crates.”

“I don’t mind at all.”

“Then after you ma’am,” he says, bending down to create a foothold for her to climb onto the bench. She doesn’t say anything, taking his assistance to settle herself, “Oh, if you want there’s a small pillow just behind you.” She gives a small tilt of her head, “People I’ve taken in this cart tend to not be as acclimated to long trips sitting on wood. And the champion says it’s uncomfortable when you have a tail.” He shrugs, giving one more check to Oisín’s straps, smiling when he’s satisfied, “Alright boy let’s get goin’.” Demos watches as the others begin to move into the tunnel leaving Vesper Bay, giving his signal to go as the two sit silently. 

They’ve just made it to the halfway point when she says, “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“The scars on your face, how-?”

“You heard I was a healer I take it,” he finishes giving a half attempted smile.

“Forgive me. I did not know you were. I don’t mean to pry.”

He chuckles, “Ah, don’t be. Sure you got a good reason to ask, you don’t seem like the kind of person to broach a subject like that on a whim. Besides, it's nothin’ too bad. At one point we went up against this primal, she shot out feathers. Got nicked by them is all.”

“So why the scar?”

“Things got busy, moved quickly, didn’t think ‘bout it until much later and body was already doing it’s thing. So it was gonna leave some kind of mark anyway. Just had an old friend stitch it up where it needed to be.”

“Have you seen a lot of combat like that? Or are you used to a busier battlefield?”

“You trying to fill the silence?” She looks away, leaving Demos with a frown, “You’re fine to do so. Just you know, asking a lot of questions and I don’t believe we even know each other’s names.”

Her head snaps up to look at him, “No one thought to tell you my name? But you are a part of the Scions.”

“I am, but I don’t hang around much. Probably why they never told you mine.”

“I-. Hm, now that I think about it, I don’t believe I was ever formally told.”

“Then we should get on that,” Demos clears his throat, holding out a hand, “I’m Demos.”

“Yugiri,” she says with a light laugh taking his hand, “a pleasure to meet you.”

The caribou belts out a cry, making the two jump. “Oh, right. Sorry. And this guy here, Yugiri, is Oisín. You’re gonna have to pet him and give an apple when we get down to make up for the fact we can’t currently.”

She laughs, holding a hand to hide most of it, “Well it is also nice to meet you Oisín.” She turns to look at Demos, the sun hitting her covered face just right to allow for him to see through the fabric long enough to know she has a smile, one he returns in kind. “Demos, would it be alright with you, if I asked you a few more questions?”

“Can’t guarantee I’ll have a good answer but sure, just promise you’ll answer a few of mine along the way.” She nods before jumping into a line of questions that keep conversation going until they reach their destination. 

She jumps down with hardly a sound, giving a small bow, “Thank you for letting me accompany you, Demos. I hope we will have some more time in the future to talk again.”

“Same to you, Yugiri,” he says with a wave watching as she gets lost amongst the other Domans taking in the new sights, mumbling, “Same to you.”

[melimatters]

Final Fantasy Write 2023: Bark

This dinner was going to be the death of K'yla, she wasn't sure how she and Altani had been volunteered for the duty of looking after the children of the other high houses but such was the duty of the adopted grand daughters of house Fortemps she supposed.

She wished her mother could have been here for this event, but she knew that the duties of the Warrior of Light were ever pressing, and also a convenient way to avoid the tedium that something like this would bring.

The Mi’qote woman’s ears flopped languidly against her head as she peered around the table where all the children were sitting and chatting excitedly. They ranged in age from the very young at about three winters to those on the cusp of young adulthood. K’yla’s ears perked somewhat as she allowed herself a lingering smile, gentle memories flooding back of when she had been in the same place as a young ones beginning their life as a member of house Fortemps. It seemed like so long ago now, and yet only a moment in the past all at once. 

She turned to face her sister sitting next to her, giggling with one of the little ones about how funny some of the food looked, her eyes filled with lifee. K’yla chuckled to herself, Altani had never been one for formal events, usually she sat there in borderline sullen defiance making it clear to all that she wanted to be anywhere but there. K’yla on the other hand did understand their importance, and relished the chances she got to hear all of the stories of the world from the nobility, even if those nobles had never left the city, or really bothered to care about the world around them as she had found out later.

K’yla leaned in whispering in her sisters ear “Remind me what this event is all about again?”

“Grandpa and the other houses are welcoming Hakuro and Yugiri from Doma as a gesture of friendship from the alliance.”

“Ahhhh, so another stuffy political function.” K’yla responded frustratedly “The children are going to be bored out of their minds the next few hours.”

Altani shrugged “It could be worse, last time we had one of these grandpa used a pretext of marrying you off to that sleazy nobleman’s son as a way of taking his family down a few notches.”

K’yla scowled at her sister and in a mocking tone said “And you managed to escape that one on duty in the Forelands if I remember correctly, traitor”

The older Auri woman was about to respond when they heard Edmont boom in that summoning tone of his “Bring the children if you will girls.”

The two women herded the little ones towards the main table, upon their arrival the children were awestruck at the sight of the Lupin. Hakuro was large, more than six feet in height and broad at the shoulders, his canid appearance covered in deep grey fur, his eyes a bright yellow that looked as if they could pierce even the toughest of steel. 

Edmont stood and spoke to the children in the kind yet formal tone that he did when K’yla and Altani were much younger and at events like this “This man is Lord Hakuro from Doma, he came a long way to see us and make new friends.

Hakuro rose and bowed deeply to the children, he had obviously dealt with young ones in the past and knew how to please them. 

One of the smallest children, a little girl from house Dzmael looked up and raised her hand with timid shyness that only small children can pull off “Cawn I awsk a qwestion” she asked.

Hakuro knelt down beside her and smiled a wolfish grin “Of course.” he said softly. 

“Do you bark, mr doggie?”

K’yla and Altani went red with shock and pulled the little Elezen girl back, half expecting the Lupin to devour the child then and there. Instead he roared with laughter, Yugiri and Edmont joined in as well, slowly the entire room was a sea of giggling and chuckling, these people sounded as if they hadn’t laughed like this in a good long while. 

“Not usually, unless a little girl asks” Hakuro then let out the tiniest of barks. The little girl giggled and pulled back into K’yla. 

Perhaps this night was not end up being as stuffy as it seemed. 

[chysgoda]

(@driftward) Ship meme, for Art’imis...

Aymeric. I am curious about how that dynamic would shake out.

Or Yugiri. What's that shape in the mirror.

Aymeric

Bel laid on her stomach reading the book uncle Artoriel had given her. Her mother sat on the bed next to her and stared at the wardrobe. Bel craned her head back to see how her mother’s lips pulled into a thin line and her eyebrows scrunched into the patch of ivory scales at the center of her forehead. Bel twitched her purple tail to the side to lay it alongside her mother’s sender ivory one. The young miqo’te girl placed the ribbon bookmark and closed her book. “He’s not like Ilberd.”

Art’imis expelled a breath somewhere between a huff and a laugh. “No, he’s not.”

Bel scowled when she noticed that her mom was picking at the scales on the back of her hands. She wriggled to get her knees under her and knelt up. She grasped one of her mom’s hands and pulled it towards her so that Art’imis couldn’t keep picking at herself. The paladin stared down at the hand Bel had claimed for a moment and then blew out a breath. She kissed the crown of Bel’s head and then rubbed the side of her horn against her daughter’s cheek.

They let the silence settle, soft and still between them. Eventually Art’imis sighed, “Well I know that you like him.”

“Mom!” Bel drew out the vowel into a whine, “I was ten!”

“Sorry darling,” Art’imis laughed and threw her arm around Bel’s shoulders, “seriously though, What do you think?”

Bel fussed with the end of her tail until her mother laid a hand over hers. “I think he’s kind. He never chuckles with the other nobles to keep face when someone makes a joke”- Bel raised her hands to make air quotes so aggressive she almost threw Art’imis’s arm off her shoulders - “about your scales or my ears. I know he can’t go with you when you have to be the Warrior Of Light, but he’d understand it and what it does to you.”

Art’imis hummed in thought and rested her chin on Bel’s head until the thirteen year old wriggled to get her to move. “Help me pick something out to wear?”

“Only if you never bring up that crush again.”

“Hmmmmmm, no promises.”

“Mom!!”

(The only person that doesn’t drag Bel about her school girl crush on Aymeric is Aymeric.)

Aymeric probably would have been who I shipped Art with ultimately except for one problem, I find Aymeric really really hard to write. Like to a stupid extent and I’m not sure why. On a character level though I think he would be patient and compassionate enough to wait for and help Art deal with her trauma (and Bel’s trauma) regarding the relationship with Ilberd. (Because I was evidently the only person who did NOT see that coming and I have inflicted that on Art’imis) Art was seriously messed up after the bloody banquet and it took her until 5.1 to get her feet back under her so she could trust a relationship again. With Aymeric I’d have to poke at it to get a feel for if that process would have sped up with him in a more romantically inclined role than a platonic one. As a couple I can see them working fairly well together. I can also see Edmont playing matchmaker just a bit because then he knows at least two of his kids are in a stable relationship. Also Aymeric as Bel’s adopted dad would be hilarious and adorable.

And now have some AU photos where Art’imis de Borel takes her husband to see the home of the twelve. (She’s pretty sure that there won’t be any trials while they’re there. Mostly sure. Well reasonably sure… okay she told him to bring the damn bow for a reason)

And here in particular she points out how you can see the tower that SOMEONE used to drag the scions to the first.

[desertdragon]

24 ( complexion ) for the prompt meme!

DA LIST | TW: Racism

She hoisted the last barrel onto the shelf and dusted off her hands. The day's sweat beaded off her brow and its heat sunk in her muscles.

"Good work as always Ralhana, thank you."

"Thanks, see everyone tomorrow."

The men bid her farewell and waved as they went their separate ways. Above the sky burned a deep orange as the sun sank. Others were on the walk home ahead of her, dotting the roads across the fields. Some waved at her and she waved back throwing them a smile.

At this rate next year's sake would start preserving on time and the rest of harvest would finish early. In a few days a festival would come to life ahead of the first frost on the trees. She gave herself a day or two for sleep and more time with the kids before she'd get pulled into helping.

'Better make my sleep count.'

She covered a yawn and as more people thinned out, her body slunk home. Everything grew heavy till her bones were like stones tied to an empty bag; climbing the hill in her way nearly tripped her as her head started dipping. Just another step, she just needed to walk another step. When she crested the hill she cursed under her breath and swayed. Finally, the house was in sight.

"Daddy! Daddy's here!"

She blinked and Yoshino slammed against her squeezing her legs tight. They almost tipped over, widening her face in panic. She cried out but managed to stay standing.

"Little one you're getting better at tackling me. Too good even."

"Mommy made rice balls and they didn't get burned. You have to come see!"

"What? Did you help her?"

Yoshino let go and stuck her hands behind her back, smirking. She squirmed still believing it could contain whenever she got excited.

"I showed her a bit the way you showed me. Then we made the balls together. Ujihide kept eating the rice though..."

"Well this I have to see." She chuckled.

Yoshino's eyes gleamed, waiting but letting her tail get the better of her. It wiggled down and to the sides then curled up in greeting. She knelt and pulled her into a hug. The rumble of her purr beat deep as a drum in her chest. A year before and she lost the girl under the length of her arms. Now she stood big enough to fill out her reach. She took her hand and started walking.

She stared in disbelief sitting around the hearth. Twelve normal rice balls rested on their wood platter; the rice was shaped rough around the edges but stayed white.

"That's not all dearest. Try the saury." Yugiri said, grinning.

Carefully, carefully, she pried the fish apart with chopsticks. It gave easily, not burnt. Not charred beyond recognition. Instead she saw a nice golden brown. Everyone watched. At least both their sons, minds full of whatever two year olds thought about, couldn't understand what was at stake. Still they studied her with tested patience. Shutting her eyes she stuffed it in her mouth.

It was... good?

Her hunger lurched like a wild thing. She couldn't stop eating. First the fish, the oden, three rice balls. It all went down one after the other. Yoshino pulled her back to reality, stopping her heart cold. She watched the color drain from Yugiri's face.

"We were playing tag and Saburo asked me why don't I have real horns. And Akane asked when I'll grow all my scales in. They liked my ears though! Everybody wanted to pet them. Because they're fluffy. It was ok at first but then it felt weird."

"Yoshino, they didn't play any mean pranks or hit you did they?" Yugiri asked sternly.

Always quick with her hands she piled extra dessert, roast chestnuts, in Yoshino's palms. The girl's eyes lit up seeing her favorite. She didn't have to think about her answer. That was good. She wasn't ashamed enough to lie. She started peeling the shells as she spoke in a tiny voice.

"No. I said I had to go home. I pushed them off and came back."

Yoshino glanced between them back and forth as she ate, pensive. Her concentration broke only to keep Yoshitsugu from taking a chestnut. Whether it was releasing bugs outside or managing how upset she felt, she had been told to try everything possible before ever striking a life. Her hands were the last resort. But to have pushed some kids over this...she couldn't find a reprimand. Anger flooded at a crack in her heart. Clenching her fists she looked at Yugiri and they nodded together. It was pain, shared.

"We're proud of you. When people do something like that you should protect yourself, even if they won't listen. And moving them out kept you safe."

"Your Father's right. They touched you in a way that made you uncomfortable. Words won't work then. But neither did you hurt them more than what was reasonable."

"So...it's ok?"

"Like this, yes." She answered solemnly.

She gave each of them their good night kiss and tucked the edges of their blanket. One lingering look let her study their sleeping faces as they piled together. She could never help a smile. With the door shut behind her she slid against the wall. A sigh stripped the tension from her body.

Saying nothing Yugiri approached and slid beside her. She felt a gentle nudge at her side. They laced their fingers together. She leaned her head back and smiled.

"Dinner really did surprise me."

"That is not any way to give a compliment." Yugiri pulled her cheek as a tease, pretending annoyance.

"You're right ma'am. I'm sorry ma'am."

"Hmph. You certainly ate your share as it was."

Yugiri let her face go, and the amusement in her eyes made Ralhana not miss a beat.

"It was made by the hard work of a beautiful woman. I couldn't help myself."

"A flatterer tonight I see."

They leaned against each other. She felt the flutter of Yugiri's eyelashes, the movement of her breaths, settling into the way she held her arm. They let themselves be.

"I don't want you to have more on your load whenever you work and return. Even if you have to put up with my beginner mistakes."

"I know. It's alright."

"You were always the better cook; I feel no shame admitting as much."

She chuckled.

"I'm no Gan either but thanks."

They fell into silence. Not even the bugs sang outside. The world stilled creeping its weight over her being. And that threatened releasing her thoughts. She moved to kiss Yugiri, stopped before she could start. The look in her eyes made her muscles lock.

"You were alone while I recovered after the boys were born. Forgive me, for making you bear that madness."

"That was never your fault. Ever."

"No. Perhaps it wasn't. But now I must ask you to shoulder it again. This place will hurt our children."

Her tongue turned lead in her mouth. She knew. She knew in the way only an 'other' could understand. And she read the seeds of the 'other' growing on Yoshino, until her hands burned to rip them out before their daughter took it upon herself. The urge sparked after the joy of her birth began settling back to normal.

'Her brown skin doesn't match yours. Are you sure your wife didn't cheat you, man?' people had asked, whether she bartered, tended fields, or helped them raise a house.

The pride at a mark of her own father living through his grandchildren crumbled like kindling. Then even now, there lingered smoldering rage. But for Yugiri to quit Doma, she no longer cared about her heart as a place. She didn't need a place to form her shape.

Yoshino was four, and a place asked she be warped to define it.

A knit brow brought out the hard angles of her face. There was a land that demanded none of those things.

"What do think about Thavnair?"

[elliewiltarwyn]

FFXIV Write 2023 | Prompt #27: Sole

me try writing something this month that isn't about mia and her backstory challenge (impossible)

-787 words -cws: character death, violent imagery, one "fuck"

----

It happens so fast, she doesn’t have a chance to think about it. All she knows is that one moment, Aulus had been cackling, Lyse had been gasping in pain; the next, her sword is through his chest.

It’s as if time freezes; the sounds of the battle around them fades away, and Lyse even seems to fall in slow motion. Aulus’s face, formerly a mix of gleeful madness and smug superiority, has fallen into horror and shock as he stares up at her. A drop of blood begins to trickle from the corner of his mouth; it rides all the way down and stains the collar of his Garlean engineer uniform. His hand shudders as he reaches up towards her face; his gauntlet has stopped glowing, its charge apparently dissipating along with the lifeforce of its wielder, though from the strength of the blast that had just struck Lyse, it may as well have just consumed everything it had. Sparks crackle off of it, one or two brushing her cheek. She doesn’t react. She just looks back at him, her face set firmly with resolve. She can feel her heart hardening, inuring herself to pain.

Were even a single circumstance different, this might have been something to mourn. In the abstract, it’s certainly a tragedy that it’s the sword of the man’s daughter that has been stabbed through his chest.

But Aulus mal Asina had disowned her, thrown her out of the house and damned her to a life of exile. Contributed to the Garlean war efforts on innumerable fronts, responsible for who knows how many crimes against mankind. Tortured Lily and Krile for the purposes of empowering Imperial agents with their Echoes. Worst of all, according to one of the notes they had recovered from that ghastly laboratory: killed her mother, attempting and failing to extract her essence to see if it could account for the Echo bestowed upon Mia herself.

“My… dar… ling… Maia…” Aulus gasps.

No. This man may be my father, but I feel no remorse for ending such a monster’s life.

Mia tightens her grip on her sword hilt, her teeth grinding together, as she glares Aulus in his eyes, watching the life slowly fade. “Fuck you,” she says quietly, deliberately. “My name is Mia Longhart.”

Another drop of blood trickles from Aulus’s lip as he stares at her. Finally, he throws his head back and lets out one final, harsh laugh, poisoned with irony, before he slumps and falls still.

She can vaguely sense there’s immediately a flurry of activity around her. She hears Lyse coughing as she reassures Lily and Alphinaud that she’s okay. She hears the low voices of Ellie and Raubahn, discussing something in an undertone. She hears various scraping and groaning noises from the wreckage of the hoverchair they had forced Aulus out of during their fight, as Arenvald and Yugiri appear to search it for usable salvage.

But she can barely parse any of it. She just watches the still face of her father, frozen forever in mockery, and feels the rage draining out of her. More than ever, she’s so tired.

She tightens her lips, places the sole of her boot on her father’s shoulder, and yanks her blade free, slamming and crumpling his corpse into the ground in front of her. Blood begins to pool around him and seep from the open wound in his chest. As she lifts her boot and brings it to rest on the floor once more, his head lolls limply, his face pointed away, but she still feels as if his discerning, disapproving eyes are upon her still. They clearly aren’t… but it feels that way nonetheless.

“Mia?” The tension in her face drains as well as she looks up and sees Ellie nearby, looking at her with a deeply furrowed brow of concern. “…Stupid question, I know, but are you going to be okay?”

Mia smiles ruefully and nods. “He had it coming.”

Ellie gives an exasperated chuckle and rubs her forehead. “That’s… fair enough, yeah.” She looks down upon Aulus’s corpse. “…Still, I’m sorry.”

She shakes her head and swipes her sword through the air by her side, flicking at least some of the blood off of it, before sheathing it. “Forget it. I have no regrets.” When Ellie looks back up at her, she makes sure to smile warmly. “He was no family of mine. I much prefer the one I’ve chosen.”

Ellie’s eyes widen a little, but a soft smile alights upon her lips then too. “I’m glad to hear it.” The tall roegadyn then hefts her greatsword upwards and rests it on her shoulder. “Come on, let’s kick Zenos’s arse.”

“Right behind you.”

[thescions]

hc + 😃 for a happiness-themed headcanon

hc + 👍 for a headcanon about things they like

hc + 👎 for a headcanon about things they dislike

(for yugiri!)

Thematic Headcanons || Accepting!

😃 for a happiness-themed headcanon

Yugiri has never been one for bombastic, animated expressions -- not even expressions of joy. She is far more comfortable expressing happiness with a close-lipped smile or short chuckle. That doesn't mean she feels any less happiness than others -- it is simply channeled inwards, rather than outwards. A result of immense satisfaction will permit a wave of relief and relaxation or a renewed vigor in her love for Doma itself. And more than anything, she is someone who can be 'infected' by the joy of her loved ones, and gets great satisfaction when those she cares for are also happy.

👍 for a headcanon about things they like

Although originally raised in Sui-no-Sato, Yugiri has come to embrace Doman culture as her own. She tends to favor goods and practices from the Far East, and will prefer to use vendors if they happen to be from Doma (actually from there, not lying for the sake of selling their wares).

👎 for a headcanon about things they dislike

In the same vein as the answer above -- Yugiri hates it when people 'other' foreign countries. This doesn't just mean Doma, either! If someone were to excessively obsess over 'exotic' Thavnairian women, for example, she would take offense. Having witnessed Zenos casually wield the swords of fallen Doman samurai for his collection, Yugiri is disgusted by anyone who fetishizes or disrespects other cultures.

[theshotsheardacrossworlds]

Bodyguard

Day 22 of Fluffvember: Bodyguard. Agi enlists help with the Blasphemies. Estinien is worried about her. SFW.

“So, erm…what’s he doing here?” Hien nodded towards Estinien, who was predictably leaning against a wall in the Doman Enclave.

Agnes grinned. “Oh, you mean my wonderful husband? He’s here to assist with the Blasphemy, as is G’raha Tia.” G’raha owed me from the Light I absorbed. He can be a bard again and shoot it in the face. “I’ll be providing advice and such but not taking an active role.” She patted her growing belly. “I made a promise.” Esme, I promised your father no more fighting until after you’re here. A promise is a promise!

Hien chuckled. “Ah I see. And here I thought you brought a bodyguard with you!”

G’raha laughed.

Agnes laughed.

Hien and Yugiri laughed.

Estinien did not.

“Aye, I’m her bloody bodyguard. And if anyone even looks at her to suggest she fight, they’ll taste my lance.” He growled, making eye contact with Hien, who continued to laugh nervously.

Yugiri rolled her eyes. “As if we would put Agi and her child at risk—”

“She’s my child too.” Oh dear. Here we go…

“We wouldn’t—” Hien began.

In about two strides, Estinien stood in front of Hien and looked down at him. Oooooh dear. “Listen here, my lord. Let me be clear---my wife is not fighting your Blasphemy. She isn’t fighting any Blasphemy. She’s done enough for this star. Am I clear?”

Oh for fuck’s sake. Agnes put a hand on his arm. “Love, Hien and Yugiri weren’t suggesting I fight. Between you, G’raha, Hien, and Yugiri I think we’re good. Shall we go for a walk?” Before you throttle Hien?!?!?!

With a grunt, Estinien allowed his wife to lead him away from the group back to the river. “Love—”

“You are not lifting a godsdamned finger for these operations. Not a one!” He growled, stepping back. “They always say ‘oh we can handle this’ and then you have to swoop in because they’re incompetent fools! I won’t allow it. I won’t!” Red aether swirled around him, and his pale blue eyes had flecks of red in them. Is this Nidhogg’s protective mate thing? Or something? I’ve got to calm him down before he literally rips off someone’s head.

Agnes took a tentative step towards her husband and once again touched his arm. “’Stinien, no one is suggesting that. I’ve fought with Yugiri and Hien. They’re more than capable. Everything is fine, love.” A tear fell down her cheek. “We’re fine. We’re safe.”

The aether dissolved, and his eyes returned to normal. Pulling her in his embrace, he sighed. “I know, sweet girl. Forgive me. I…I…” He squeezed his eyes shut. “These past moons have been difficult.”

You aren’t fucking wrong there. “They have been, but they’ve been good too. The star and all creation are saved. We’re married. We’re having our little girl.” She looked up at him and smiled softly. “And we get to make a home together in Radz-at-Han.”

He returned her smile. “Aye. Together.” Their foreheads soon touched. “Let me be your shield, my love. Let me fight in your stead. Let me protect you and our babe.”

Agnes wrinkled her nose and giggled. “Fine my darling husband, but no more threatening Alliance leaders.”

Estinien laughed heartily and kissed his wife. “But my sweet he looked ready to shit himself!”

“You naughty man! You can’t just go and threaten world leaders because it amuses you!” Agnes laughed and wiped HAPPY TEARS out of her eyes. “Ser, if you continue to act in such a way, then I may just—OH! NAUGHTY MAN!” He pinched my ass!

Estinien winked he pinched her ass again. “The naughtiest, my pretty wife. And I’m all yours.”

Agnes shook her head and giggled. “As I’m all yours.” She discreetly palmed his crotch, causing him to moan. “I’m going to need you later, love…”

“Later, my insatiable sausage roll. Later.” He offered his arm, which she took. “Shall we?”

“We shall, love.” Together. Always.

[jdtrashman]

44. — study

Beloch Bluesail was not a man known for being studious. He hadn't learned to read until he was 15, to make that point as painfully clear as one could. When you're raised by pirates, all you need to know growing up is how to hoist a sail, how to secure ropes, how to fish, how to drink, and how to sing shanties.

So what the fuck was he doing up so late at night pouring over the old man's books?

He hadn't called him to do it. There was no "great hidden lesson" (or if there was, it was hidden much better than the previous three). The day had been the typical blade training as it had been since Musosai smuggled his corpse out of the royal palace months ago. They trained, he bid him good night, and that was it. But when Beloch saw the books left falling out of the old man's pack on a desk, something in him decided that it was time to bone up on his reading.

The books told of Musosai's home, Hingashi. he vaguely recalled Yugiri telling them of her home, the nearby Doma, which had been reduced to a crater by the Garleans for daring to ask "hey maybe enough with the burning, yeah?"

Hingashi was a bag of cats all its own. The empire steered clear of it, and just looking over the nation's political and military systems, it was clear why. If Hingashi could stop fighting amongst itself for five minutes, the empire might actually have a real rival on its hands. Then again, judging by how those unfortunate enough to be born into its lower castes are treated (the book told nothing of the lower castes besides their names, which, of course, told Beloch everything) maybe its best that they keep their shit to themselves.

The art he was learning, that of the samurai, was just as Musosai had told it. They were the peacekeepers. Which meant they were the long arm of the rich. People are alike all over, it would seem.

Musosai's tales of his homeland had painted a rosier picture, and Beloch just couldn't picture the old man hurting someone he didn't want to hurt - no matter who told him to do it. Slowly, Beloch began to put together a theory on why Musosai was really here instead of back home. He then filed it away, with all the other secrets he was aware of, but awaiting their holders to come forward on of their own accord.

A yawn broke from his throat like water from a burst dam. Twelve, how late was it? He was just about to check, when another book loosely fell from the pack. It was about the Steppe. His birthplace. He had never set foot there in his life.

He fetched a replacement candle, lit it, and cracked open the book. In for a penny, he supposed.

Musosai would awake to his student asleep at the desk, surrounded on all sides by books and filled out note papers. And he would chuckle, shake his head, and lay a blanket over the hunched over Au Ra.

Yes, he had indeed made the right call with this one.

[jasleh]

FFxivWrite2023 Prompt 30: Amity

character: Cota (indirectly) time period: late ARR but before the Banquet

.....

The main hall of Camp Dragonhead: seat of the fort's commander, but also one of the few places in this frigid wasteland that the adventurers the other High Houses scorned could congregate. On this day, three came in out of the cold together - a roegadyn marauder, a hyurian conjurer, and a lalafellen thaumaturge. The lalafell, however, peeled off from the other two immediately and went to stand over by the fire where she could eavesdrop. Chuchulu wasn't really involved in today's events, but she had come along on the off chance a cooler, less involved head was needed. And also because she expected it to be entertaining. The two men sauntered up instead to the desk of the silver-haired commander.

"Ho there, friend," rumbled the larger of the two. By prior agreement, Byr took the lead at first while Erdrik observed. "Have time to share a pint with a couple cold adventurers?"

"Welcome, my friends, welcome! Is this your first time at Camp Dragonhead?" Lord Haurchefant was ever enthusiastic, although Chuchulu noted the greeting lacked the personal note she had observed on prior visits.

"Not our first, no, but I don't blame you for not remembering us. Our usual traveling companion does tend to draw the eyes, after all." They had all seen how he looked at Cota, but from the way his eyes lit up as he instantly intuited who Byr meant said clearly that he did not have a long list of possibilities to sort through.

"Oh, are you friends of Cota's? Be welcome indeed!"

"You could say that, certainly." It was the smaller man who spoke up now. "We are their husbands."

A sudden look of alarm crossed Haurchefant's face, and he brought his hands up in a conciliating manner.

"Oh! I… um…"

Over by the fire, Chuchulu had to suppress a snicker. This was the entertainment she'd come for. She did keep a close eye on the suddenly more alert-looking guards, however. Byr let out a low rumble of a chuckle.

"Peace, friend. We aren't here to make trouble. We knew what we were getting into when we married Cota."

Haurchefant blinked in confusion, visibly making connections that his brain had glossed over in his alarm. "Wait… both of you?"

"Guessing you don't know much about Bayaqud customs," Byr answered, and Chuchulu gave a quiet snort. As if any of them had even heard of the Bayaqud before meeting Cota. Au ra were hardly a common sight in the West, if not as strange as Yugiri seemed to think. "Bayaqud women traditionally take several husbands. Cota isn't a woman, of course, but they're willing to be when it's convenient for them."

"Cota's grown quite fond of you." Erdrik's quiet voice picked up the thread of the conversation. "Perhaps is even growing serious. So we thought we would come by to get a sense of your character, in case you join us someday." The character question was really the crux of the issue, as Cota, alas, was not always the best judge. They liked to see the best in people, but it was not always there. Or real.

"Heard it took six men to hold you back when we went after Shiva." Byr's deep tones again, sounding approving. "Speaks well of you, but I fear you lack the necessary protection to go toe to toe with a Primal." Like Cota, all three of them possessed the Echo. Not near as strongly, but enough.

"A harrowing experience, to be left behind when they faced such danger. I have… grown quite attached to Cota. It is encouraging to hear they feel the same. I believe I do have time to talk, and some wine stashed away as well, if you would care for some?" The poor man certainly looked like he could use a glass or three. It had been an eventful few minutes for him.

"I'm more of an ale man, myself, but I'd not turn down a glass," Byr answered, and Erdrik nodded beside him. Chuchulu settled in to enjoy the undoubtedly awkward conversation that was to follow. It was well that they all seemed to be getting along, though.