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ffxivaltaholic · 2 years

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~Prompt #5: Cutting Corners~

“Do you have any idea how IRRISPONSIBLE, CHILDISH and STUPID you are??? How much trouble you’ve now caused?” The enraged voice belonged to an understandably angry Raen man. “The house is a mess! The Chocobos are all in a huff and there are drunk Namazu wandering about the premise!!!! What in Azim’s name made you think this was a good idea???”

-Record Scratch-

“You’re probably wondering how I ended up in this little predicament... Well... It all began with...”

"Chores!?!?!?! But I wanted to work on my tan!!!!!” Whining loudly, the Seeker flicked her fluffy tail in protest, ears lowering as her signature pout and kitten-eyes appeared on her lovely face. “That wont work with me. Everyone in the Company has to pull their weight, and that includes you. No freeloading.” Despite the soft voice, the small Raen woman held firm and stood, hands on hips, over their bed where N’akani was sprawled out painting her nails. Another high pitch whine left the Seeker and she rolled on her back in a huff. “But Ame... The house is already clean though, and I did a chore yesterday.” A chore, which she had done poorly and the Raen had been forced to redo correctly hours later. Giving a frustrated sigh, Ame scowled at her mooch of a girlfriend and shook her head. “No ifs, ands, or buts! You need to sweep the Chocobo stables, wash the bar dishes and dust the main rooms upstairs and in the basement. At most it should take you maybe two or three hours. Then come to the tea house to relieve Isanii for her break.” All in all, it was not much of a difficult request considering the Seeker did not pay for food or rent, and at most she would spend a few hours out of her day actually helping out. “Hmphf, fiiiiine.” As if N’akani really had a choice at the moment. Locking eyes with the doll-like Raen, her expression softened. “Will you make me that honey and almond cake again?” It was her favorite from the tea house, but something Ame rarely made since the cake was time consuming and delicate. After considering the request, Ame finally caved and rolled her eyes. “Alright, but only if you do everything I’ve asked of you. I’ll be in the infirmary most of the day, so when I’m done I’ll come to the tea house and make it for you to eat after your shift.” A fair deal really, considering N’akani’s jobs were so simple a mammet could complete them. “Deal!!!”

- - -

It wasn’t until after the Raen had left that it dawned on the Seeker that she actually had to do the work now... And she had just painted her nails too. Grumbling to herself, N’akani decided to start with dusting, since it was the easiest of the jobs and the one she could slack the most with. Taking the small feather duster, she made her way to the main room where a sound caught her attention. “I win yes yes!” “No, you cheated yes! “I saw, he won he won yes!” The three Namazu were playing a board game at the main table, and badly at that. They were technically members of the company, even though their employment was more of a hindrance sometimes, and they certainly weren’t the brightest. Usually they were there to keep others company and ensure there was always someone at the Company House during extended times. Occasionally they did small chores under direct supervision. !!!!

An idea struck her. Namazu were rather agreeable, and they loved tea as much as she loved alcohol, with a similar effect as well. She worked at the tea house, full of tea... A plan formulated in her head and the Seeker plotted. Approaching them, she used her sweetest voice to first try and persuade the three to help with chores, but they were getting wise to her over the months. They declined quite quickly, ignoring her honied words and begging eyes.

Time for plan B! “Wellllllll... How about a trade? You help me with just a few wee chores, and I make you some tea! With the three of you it would go so much faster!” In her mind, this was perfect. One Namazu to clean the dishes, one to dust the rooms and a third to clean the stables. Everything would get done in less time, meaning she could sneak in a nap before her shift at the tea house. “Maybe trade yes... But want tea now yes!” The first was stubborn, and from his words the other two agreed. “Some tea now yes! We do chores, then rest of tea after!” “Yes yes! Good deal!” Narrator: It was, in fact, a horrible deal. - - - Unfortunately, N’akani misunderstood how effective the tea was for the little catfish, and after making them a pot and assigning their tasks, she went for her nap. Despite a pleasant sleep, she was awoken with someone yelling her name in fury. The voice belonged to nonother that her other partner Kaze. He was yelling her name and stomping through the house. It was at this moment, she knew, she fucked up.

- - -

“And that is how we got to this point...” Ultimately, N’akani spent the rest of the evening cleaning under supervision from both Raens. One could hope the Miqo’te woman learned her lesson... But it was doubtful.

#ffxivwrite2022 #ffxivwrite #ffxiv writing prompt #N'akani Azren #Prompt5: Cutting Corners #She is a master of cutting corners #Being lazy is an art and she is the artist

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theguardianofinsanity · 2 years

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The Epic Chocobo Race

Prompto x gn reader

"Come on Y/N! Can't you drive a little faster?" The gunslinger pleaded from the passenger seat, it was only you and him on this trip.

"You do know that there are speed limits right?" You side eyed him while turning on your turn signal.

"But there's no one out here!"

"I understand but Ignis has some sort of 6th sense when it comes to breaking the law, he would kill me"

"But you're a good driver!" His rebuttal is laughable.

"You've had Ignis and I as references, I am not the best driver", you turn. You both can see the chocobo rest spot up ahead.

"I'm sorry Y/N, I've been wanting to go here again for a while, plus I wanted you to come with me!"

"It's alright Prom" you say with a small smile. You reach over and turn off the music, hearing the squawks of chocobos in the distance.

Pulling into the small parking lot, Prompto is already pointing out the little things about the place. You park and Prompto nearly breaks the door getting out of the car. He, of course, walks over to open your door for you.

"That's very sweet of love", you say softly and kiss his cheek, see him turn a light red hue. You both walk hand in hand over to rent chocobos.

"Two chocobos please!" He asks more request excitedly. You two soon get leads for the big birds. Prompto leads his over to get some bird seed. You decide to ask around to see what you can do with chocobos.

"Well, you can walk them, make sure to feed them and give them breaks! They have feelings too. You can race other people with them, you can-" you stopped listening at that point. Race chocobos? You can win a race easily, but with who?

You look around to see your boyfriend feeding his bird some lettuce and you immediately starting planning on how to ask him if he wants to get his ass kicked in a race. You hand your lead over to the person handling the races and start walking over to your wonderful about to lose boyfriend, Prompto.

"Hey sweetie?" You call to his attention. He hums in response while petting the bird "I just learned something amazing about chocobos" he visibly perks up and looks to you.

"What is it?" He has the biggest smile on his face.

"You can race them!" You exclaim, just as giddy as he is. He then looks back and forth between you and his chocobo, his smile somehow getter wider. He stops to look at you with adoration in his eyes.

"God I love you" he gave you a quick kiss before dragging you both onto his chocobo quickly trotting over to the racing gates. You slide down off the bird and whisper into Prompto's ear.

"You're gonna get your ass kicked, just wait~" you purr into his ear then smile innocently to the handler and take the lead back. You turn to Prompto to ask his preference on which course to take but all you see is something red and pouty.

Lining up at the start, you scratch your chocobo on the chin affectionately. It was taking Prompto a while to get ready so you decided to chill and just talk with your chocobo named Lisa.

"-and then he just sent us off alone saying 'you two need some alone time to be a couple' like? We already are?? You're usually the one gagging when I kiss him or when he grabs my hand Noct" you continue on with Lisa nodding along just happy to get scratches.

"Are you venting to the chocobo? About our friends?" A new but familiar voice asks. Without looking you answer.

"Yes but only Noctis, he can be a pain in the ass sometimes" you respond finally looking at the person who now beside you.

You choked on air as you started laughing. "Did you dye your chocobo's feather's red and orange?" You ask now giggling. He puffs out his chest and does a superhero-esk pose.

"Yes I did because orange and red look like fire and fire means-"

"That your chocobo is on fire?" He shoots you a look.

"No, fire means fast and because of such my chocobo will go faster" he states very proudly. You nod with an amused look on your face and readjust yourself on the chocobo. "Get ready babe, whoever wins gets bragging rights forever" he announces.

"I'm alright with that, can't wait to put in my memoir" you smirk and start mapping how you should safe you should play this.

GO!

Both you and Prompto speed off making a turn immediately, since you made a better turn, you inched ahead slightly hearing a grunt from Prompto trying to get in front. The first lap was mostly you and him fighting for the lead but not getting very far before the other catches up.

To you the second lap was a blur of squawks, scraping of claws on dirt, and very bad trash talk. Including:

"You wanna see some real speed bitch?"

Prompto making car noises when he got ahead

"Eat my feathers blondie!"

Him trying to distract you with bad puns

The last lap was when you both focused hard, pushing yourselves to the limit while being careful of your chocobos. It was getting pretty close, then it was the final stretch. You looked at each other simultaneously, determination in your eyes.

As you were about to cross the finish line first, Prompto sprinted ahead at the last second and made it first. Half a second after you pass and screech to a halt. You see both Prompto and his chocobo jump for joy. You sigh with a smile and slowly trot over to get some food into Lisa and give her a break, it was a difficult race.

You scratch her chin and tell her that she did a good job. Walking over to Prompto you raise your hand to give him a handshake of camaraderie. "I guess dyeing the feathers red and orange does mean they will go faster.

He looks at your hand and pulls you in for a tight hug, "Thank you so much for doing this babe" he says softly then pulls away, "I had so much fun, I love you so much" he adds on before kissing you.

Before you get the chance to melt into it, you hear footsteps. You quickly pull way and turn with a red face to see the man who runs the race track.

"Well! That was a hell of a race, very excitin' to watch. I do sincerely hope you two come back, would love another show" he remarks smiling at you both before taking Prompto's chocobo to get fed.

"I had a lot of fun too love, maybe we can come back another day and that time, I will win" you put your forehead against his.

"I would love to see it Y/N"

Prompto whenever someone asks if he wants to see some giant yellow birds:

#ffxv fanfic #ffxv x reader #reader insert #ffxv prompto #fanfic #prompto argentum #prompto x reader #prompto x gn reader #this took a while #i wrote this while half asleep #my brain is tired

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grandcompany · 3 years

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LFRP: Capricious Wolf

🍂 THE BASICS 🍂

Name: Capricious Wolf

Age: 30

Birthday: 29th Sun of the 5th Astral Moon

Race: Hellsguard Roegadyn

Gender: Intergender (she/they)

Alignment: Neutral Good

Sexuality: Lesbian

Relationship Status: Dating

Server: Mateus (Crystal Datacenter)

🍂 PHYSICAL APPEARANCE 🍂

Hair: Her dark auburn hair is pulled back into a scruffy ponytail, but some of it always seems to escape to frame their face in autumn colors.

Eyes: Hazel

Height: 85 ilms (7’ 1”)

Build: Broad shouldered and muscular, but otherwise a little scrawny for a Roegadyn.

Distinguishing Features: She has a faint scar across the bridge of her nose, and a faded tattoo of three arrows tied together with a bent sprig of lavender on the inside of their right forearm.

Common Accessories: A cloth bandana around their neck or hair, a vulture talon necklace, a silver talisman with a prayer to Oschon scribed on it, a flask on her hip, arrows in her quiver, a knife at their belt, random feathers and flowers woven in their hair or tucked behind an ear.

🍂 PERSONAL 🍂

Professions:

Former poacher turned legitimate hunter. ( Archer / Lancer )

Lumberjack and occasional bodyguard. (Warrior)

Expert forager and hunter. (Botanist / Fisher)

Jill of all Trades and all-around handyperson. (Aspiring Omnicrafter)

Hobbies: Drinking, hunting, getting out of scrapes, probably more drinking, smoking, telling tall tales, singing bawdy songs, feeding the birds.

Residence: The Twelveswood

Birthplace: Gyr Abania

Religious Affiliation: Oschon

🍂 RELATIONSHIPS ––– 🍂

Romantic: Mirelle Bullion (girlfriend)

Children: none

Parents: Wildest Obelix (step-father), Ardent Leaf (mother)

Siblings: Felicitous Courel (half-brother)

Other Relatives: Tawny Hare (cousin), Noelle Auberlaine (cousin)

Pets:

Bean is less of a pet and more of a strange friend that crashes on her couch and steals her leftovers. The magpie steals her stuff, but also brings her interesting things from time to time. Is he a nuisance or a pal? She’s not sure.

Honey is her old reliable chocobo. Together they’ve been through seemingly a million scrapes and she’s damn attached to the old bird.

🍂 TRAITS ––– 🍂

Extroverted / In Between / Introverted

Disorganized / In Between / Organized

Close Minded / In Between / Open Minded

Calm / In Between / Anxious

Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable

Cautious / In Between / Reckless

Patient / In Between / Impatient

Outspoken / In Between / Reserved

Leader / In Between / Follower

Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic

Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic

Traditional / In Between / Modern

Hard working / In Between / Lazy

Cultured / In Between / Uncultured

Loyal / In Between / Disloyal

🍂 ADDITIONAL INFORMATION 🍂

Smoking Habit: Yes, she smokes a small pipe.

Drugs: She’s been known to dabble, mostly in weed and mushrooms and the like.

Alcohol: Yes! Fuck yes.

🍂 RP HOOKS 🍂

Gal for Hire: She's always looking for work whether it's in the woods or the trades. They'l hire themself out as a tracker and guide, or else take commissions for foraged goods and simple crafts.

Shroud Survivalist: Growing up on the edges of the shroud Wolf learned quick that survival often meant breaking rules and getting away with what you could. While she's turned to more legitimate work these days she remembers her poacher past all too well.

Lodge Caretaker: Wolf runs the Wayward Lodge, a cabin and waystation in the wilds of the East Shroud. The Lodge is open to all and if Wolf is around they'll gladly tend wounds, fill bellies, and help in whatever other way they can.

🍂 OOC INFORMATION 🍂

Peaceful Rebel: Despite being a devoted pacifist Wolf has strong opinions about how Gridania treats its people. Few might know of the Wisplight Path's true goals, but those that do surely aren't surprised to find she's involved.

WOLF IS LOOKING FOR

Friends that they can rely on.

Patrons that will inspire (and pay) her.

New places to drink.

LGBTQ+ Friendly spaces to hang out in.

Maybe a little redemption for the shit she's done.

I’M LOOKING FOR

Collaborative storytelling and character development!

🍂 CONTACT INFORMATION 🍂

Writing partners to brainstorm with!

I’M NOT LOOKING FOR

Romance or ERP - Wolf is happily taken.

Status as the punching bag in some grimdark fantasy. Wolf is a Hopepunk character all the way.

Themes of sexual violence or abuse.

Contact with TERFs, Cops, or bigots in general. Please fuck off.

In-Game: Capricious Wolf

Asks & Info: @capriciouswolf

Carrd: capriciouswolf.carrd.com

#lfrp mateus #ffxiv rp #ffxivrp #roegadyn #hellsguard #lfrp #crystal lfrp #mateus lfrp #ffxiv lfrp #writing #character info #wolf about #wolf posts

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eremiss · 3 years

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4. Baleful

The city is waking up around him, the chocobos in the adjacent stalls beginning to stir and chirrup at one another. Duskfeather snorts and nestles more deeply into his comfortable nest, burying his head further under his wing and pinning his ears back to muffle the noise. This town wakes much too early. The sun has barely left the horizon and already people are bustling about, working and chattering.

Footfalls tromp up to his stall door, followed by the familiar sound of the squeaky latch. It needs to be greased again.

“Good morning Duskfeather,” Gwen coos at him.

He grumbles in reply and curls tighter in on himself. His person gets up much too early in the morning, too.

He tries and fails to go back to sleep, listening to her dump out, scrub, and then refill his water basin and muck his stall, shuffling and scraping woodchips and straw.

“Sleeping in today?” she asks, petting his wing.

He’s trying to, at any rate. But his stall does need cleaning, so he can forgive the intrusion. He purrs at her and shifts around a little before settling down to go back to sleep.

“Don’t you want breakfast?”

...Yes, he does. But she doesn’t have food with her, he can smell it. Still, he lifts his wing enough to peak out from under it, just to be sure.

“Ohhhh, that got your attention, hmm?” she teases.

Duskfeather snorts indignantly, pulling his head from beneath his wing to glare at her. Breakfast is no joking matter.

Gwen coos affectionately at him, unaffected by his scowl, and scritches his face and behind his ears just how he likes. “How about breakfast first? Then you can go back to sleep.”

He huffs and nuzzles into her hands. Very well, that’s an acceptable compromise.

She disappears down the hall, and he listens to her footfalls head towards the good-smelling room that neither he nor the chocobos are allowed in. Even though her mate’s nutkin goes in there all the time, as do all the other small creatures the people of Mor Dhona keep as pets. Duskfeather has seen it. It’s not fair.

Speaking of: the furry devil suddenly appears atop Duskfeather’s stall door, pink nose wiggling, ears and tail upright.

Duskfeather snorts derisively at it. He doesn’t want company, especially not the bothersome kind. Doesn’t nutkin have its own person to pester? It’s too early for the mongrel to already be bothering him.

The odd little creature tilts its head, staring at him with big, curious eyes that don’t hold nearly enough fear or reverence. Then it turns to look back the way it came, tail standing on end and puffing up even larger than normal.

Like a bolt of lightning the nutkin shoots down the stall door and across the floor, all the way to the edge of Duskfeather’s nest. It leaves a dent in the freshly spread woodchips when it skids to a stop, staring up at him with a strangely imploring look.

What in all the hells does this thing think it’s doing? If Duskfeather had the mind to he could just eat it right here, right now. One snap of his beak and the little creature would be gone. Does this thing have no self-preservation instincts?

But Gwen’s mate would be most cross with him if he ate it, which means Gwen would be cross with him, too, and he can’t abide that. It’s probably more fur and bones than meat, anyway.

Duskfeather tries to dissuade whatever stupid idea the little thing has in its head, ruffling his feathers and making unhappy noises to scare him away. Nutkin’s person is already stealing Gwen enough, and nutkin is an accomplice, Duskfeather knows it. Now he has the nerve to--

There’s a mewling sound and the jingle of a small bell, then a lean orange cat appears atop the stall door.

Duskfeather’s getting all manner of unwanted guests today. So much for breakfast and then going back to sleep.

Nutkin’s tail bristles and it chitters up at him again, then leaps into the nest. It makes a right mess trying to burrow into the down and leaves, rude, but manages to partially obscure itself.

Ah. So that’s how it is.

The cat holds its ground atop the door and arches up intimidatingly, hair and tail standing upright to make itself look bigger as Duskfeather stares shrewdly at it. He rolls his eyes, unimpressed. The cat can try and look as big as it wants, it’s still barely a mouthful to him.

So, it’s chasing nutkin, is it? Sounds like the consequences of the nukin’s mischief catching up with it. The little thing is normally crafty and quick enough to outrun whatever pursuer it angered, but it would appear the cat is proving too much of a match for its liking.

Tch. And it came here, to him, for protection?

Perhaps it had been looking for Gwen instead, but that would just just be foolish. She is too soft and caring, and would likely pet and cuddle the cat the same way she cuddles nutkin. No, nutkin most certainly came to him.

He has no love for the foolishly brave furball, but Gwen is irritatingly fond of both it and its person. It wouldn’t do to upset her by letting some ill fate befall the little thing.

Duskfeather raises his head high, pins his ears and fluffs up his feathers, fixing the cat with a baleful glare and growling a warning. Go away. You aren't welcome.

The cat wisely decides its life is worth more than a meddlesome ball of fur and accepts the loss, leaping down from the door and darting away.

Satisfied, Duskfeather settles back down into his nest to wait for his breakfast. Gwen hasn’t made a sound the whole time, meaning she likely has no idea of the tragedy he’d just averted. She really must start paying more attention.

He grumbles at the indentation where nutkin is still half-buried. It needs to cause less mischief, especially mischief others have to solve. Its little ears poke out, erect and listening closely for any signs of the cat. After much too long it declares the coast clear and swiftly digs its way out. Making more mess, ugh. Inconsiderate little monster, this thing.

Nutkin scampers up to the top of the nest and shakes itself clean, getting down and leaves everywhere. When Duskfeather expresses his disapproval the nutkin blithely ignores him, more concerned with picking detritus out of its tail. He snorts at the little thing, ruffling its fur and upsetting its balance for a moment.

Once it’s cleaned itself (and made no offers to help fix the mess it made) Nutkin chitters at him, staring expectantly.

Duskfeather stares back, nonplussed. What does it want now?

It squishes its overly-large cheeks and spits out an acorn. Eugh. Was it holding that in its mouth the whole time? It inspects the acorn for several seconds, turning it over and over in its tiny paws. Satisfied with...whatever it was checking, it holds the nut up to Duskfeather, offering it.

As if Duskfeather would want that slobber-covered acorn.

When he doesn’t take it the nutkin settles for placing it on top of the nest. Pleased with itself and its offering, it flounces proudly away.

What, is that payment?

Duskfeather huffs, affronted. It could have at least given him something worthwhile.

“Alright, sorry that took me so long,” Gwen comes back, bringing the smell of breakfast with her.

Too bad she hadn’t seen him scare away the cat, or she would have brought him a reward.

--------------------------------

Baleful - adjective Portending evil; ominous. Harmful or malignant in intent or effect. Full of hurtful or malign influence; destructive; pernicious; noxious; direful

Duskfeather is far more important than anyone gives him credit for, but he doesn’t make a big deal out of it. He’s much too composed and benevolent for that, clearly. Scritches, cuddles, and plenty of praise and treats from Gwen make it all worthwhile.

#FFXIVWrite2021 #Guinevere Ashe #My writing #Duskfeather #Nutkin #silliness

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whitherliliesbloom · 3 years

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birds of a feather

[ ffxivwrite2021 ] ★ [ masterlist ] ★ [ prompt #16 - crane ]

[ illya & friends ] ★ [ 1,847 words ] ★ [ ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ] features ancientechos’ laurelis and two of my other ocs.

crane: a tall, long-legged, long-necked bird, typically with white or grey plumage

though their species varies as much as the colors of their plumages, birds of a feather flock the warrior of light together

“So...” Sigfred’s puzzled expression is framed by the furrowing of his eyebrows as he looks down at the young woman as she tries and fails to protectively shield her newest little companion away from his view. “You decided your aviary isn’t quite populated enough, did you?”

He says little, but the creature stood a good two feet taller than the comparably tiny lalafellin in front of it, the red tuff that crowned its head not helping it stay out of sight and unnoticeable either.

Of course, even if the peculiar thing hadn’t been almost the size of a small hyuran child or had striking plumage, it wouldn’t distract anybody from the fact that the lanky, majestic creature Illya had herded back home was yet another bird - a wild crane hailing from the far east.

“It wasn’t my decision to make.” Illya frowns, shaking her head while she idly raises her hand to rest upon the crane’s head, stroking it gently. “She just followed me back.”

“All the way from Yanxia?” The disbelief in his voice is his understandable, as is the skeptical crossing of his arms. He has trouble believing that a wild animal would doggedly tail Illya thousands of miles away from it’s natural habitat. Though his cynicism quickly fades when his scarlet eyes meet starlit ones, and he is reminded of the supernatural affinity the girl has with feathered creatures when a pigeon casually flutters over and lands on top of her head.

He cannot tell if the lack of the wild animal’s natural fear of people when it came to Illya was more absurd, or the fact that she seemed completely nonchalant about the way a bird was nesting atop her hair.

“Yes.” She answers, voice dipping slightly in pitch to convey her seriousness. “Hien had quite a struggle to chase her off the boat.”

Evidently, the Prince of Doma had failed spectacularly... and as if self-aware, the crane puffs it’s chest out and tilts her head high into the sky.

Next to Sigfred, the bard’s shoulder shakes in mirth, his loud guffaw echoing through the shroud of trees and causing the pigeon that had been peacefully resting on Illya’s head to flee, much to her unspoken chagrin.

“Gods, I’m not even surprised anymore.” Wiping a stray tear from the corner of his eyes, E’lija finally speaks in between choked laughter. “Illya brings home a new bird like every other day.”

Heat spreads across the young lady’s face, though as if sensing her embarrassment, the cockatiel that had been sitting quietly upon the branch of Illya’s wisteria tree flys over before landing on her shoulder, now nudging it’s head against her cheek.

“I-I... I don’t choose to, most of the time at least... Plus, if I take good care of them, there shouldn’t be a problem. Isn’t that right, Orion?”

The cockatiel bobs its head up and down, much to the utter shock of E’lija who throws his arms up.

“W-wha- It can understand her??”

Orion doesn’t spare even a second to pause before turning it’s head to lock his beady, round eyes upon the miqo’te before his beak parts to voice his detest towards the man who would embarrass his master.

“Piss off.”

“IT CAN TALK?!?!” E’lija so very nearly falls off his fold up chair, threatening to take the cups of coffee and biscuits onto the floor with him. “WHERE- Where did it learn that from???”

“.....Estinien.” Illya frowns, lifting her index finger to poke at the cockatiel’s forehead in disapproval. “He got into a fight... well... argument with Orion. It wasn’t pretty.”

She really should find a way to tactfully ask the man to cut his expletives down... or at least not feel the raging urge to get into a debate with a mere bird, lest she have a harder and harder time convincing people that she was not in fact the one responsible for teaching her pet cockatiel how to yell ‘Thal’s balls’ in a guest’s ear.

Sigfred merely hums, his hands stroking his chin as he narrows his eyes at the crane.

“What kind of crane is it, anyway? We didn’t see a lot of it’s kind back in Doma.”

“It’s a Manchurian crane - one of the rarest species of cranes in the world, I believe. It’s particularly highly revered in the far east... which was why I had to hide her below deck while we were sailing by Kugane.”

His interest piqued, the redhead straightens himself and adjusts his hat before leaning back into his seat.

“Why’s that?”

“Um... well, if I remember right, it symbolizes good fortune, longevity and immortality.”

E’lija has to stop his jaw from dropping so low that it’d collide with the table. Archons, and this apparently rare crane from the far east that represented god given virtues has now taken a liking to Illya so much it’d leave Doma to stalk her all the way back to Eorzea?

Internally, he wonders what sort of karma he must have to obtain such divine blessings.

With a clear of his throat, Sigfred steers the conversation back on track.

“So what now? What do you plan on doing next with it?”

“I-I.... I don’t... I don’t know? She’s stubborn... wouldn’t budge for anyone. I had thought maybe letting her see just how different the shroud is from Yanxia, she’d want to go home but...”

A hearty, more pleasant giggle rings out next to her, and Illya turns to look at a pink-haired miqo’te who she had assumed would be too pre-occupied with cuddling her baby dodo to have paid attention to her conversation with her other party mates.

Laurelis still is, to an extent... her arms wrapped tightly around the plump, round creature as it lets out an occasional squawk. But as usual, when it came to the topic of animal adoption and welfare, she was ever the first to jump to contribute to the topic.

“Why don’t you just adopt her then? You already know how to take care of other birds so... just one more won’t make much of a change, would it?”

That was the exact mindset that would lead Laurelis to have an ever growing household of cats and dogs that she’d find on her travels... but Illya thinks pointing out the irony to that would only get lost to her dear friend.

“Well... I... I have my reservations.”

Illya turns behind to look back at the crane as it stares intently back at her. Whatever that was going through it’s head, it certainly had no intention of returning where it came from... But that in itself was a bit of a problem.

“Manchurians cranes are an endangered species... I’m not sure I’m qualified enough to take care of one, let alone adopt and keep one for the rest of it’s life, when it should rightfully be wild.”

There was a drip of hypocrisy in her statement, certainly. It wouldn’t be the first time she’s had to shelter a wild animal only to be forced into a position of adopting it - and it didn’t just apply to birds either.

But caring and raising a species at danger of going extinct was an entirely different issue that she rightfully felt she had no place dabbling in - not without professional training, at least... and the twelve knows when she’d find an expert in the matter willing to teach her.

Ethical concerns aside, Illya also struggled to find a concrete reason for why she absolutely had to keep this beautiful creature in her home.

For most of the other animals she’d adopted, they had been rescued in some form or the other. Hazel for example, the brown sparrow that she had found with broken wings near Bentbranch Meadows a few summers ago. Though Illya had full intentions to release her as soon as she healed from her injuries, the little sparrow grew attached and has rarely ever left her side since.

She’d struggled to find an adopter who would be willing to take in her mobirdly obese chocobo chick Lawrence, due perhaps to their reservations in regards to providing for his demanding diet. And likewise, the hunting hawk that she’d met upon a pirate ship had been abandoned after losing it’s eye... and his protectiveness over not just herself, but anyone he knew to be someone Illya cared for, made it difficult to even find ways to put adverts for his adoption.

Illya had thought the reason why birds seemed to flock to and very often stay by her side had been for the simple fact that she’d saved them... and that their attachment to the one who saved them made it impossible for them to part from her.

The Manchurian crane however, would perhaps be the clearest proof that her affinity with birds was... unnatural, to say the least.

Not that she minded, of course... Because for as much as she would bring doubt to her own abilities to care for the animals under her care, she did secretly have a soft spot for birds that perhaps made it hard for her to give her feathered friends as much as it would be for them to find a new home.

“Maybe I could foster it for a while before bring it back to Doma.” Illya hums, but hears Laurelis whine pitifully in response.

“But she’s clearly attached to you! I’m sure she’ll be happiest by your side. At the end of the day, her happiness and wellbeing is the most important, right? I’m sure you’ll do just fine, Illya!”

The miqo’te points out, gesturing to the yard full of birds who roosted quietly - from Lawrence who was now rolling about in his little playpen full of sand, to Captain Blackbeak who sat vigilantly atop the purple mailbox decorated with golden leaves and stars that sat right outside her yard.

Illya hears hazel singing from where she sat on the roof of the pagoda, and the nudging of the crane’s beak against her face, as if both voicing their agreement for Laurelis’ words... and Illya lets out a heaving sigh that was copied comically by the cockatiel on her shoulder.

“I-I’ll think about it.” Though there’s still a hint of hesitation, the fact Illya was willing to even consider was enough to cause Laurelis to break out into a grin, lifting her hands up to clap in delight.

“Oh goodie! Now think of a name for her!”

“N-now??” With widened eyes of gleaming lavender stars, Illya parts her mouth and shakes her head frantically. “W-when I’m put on the spot like that I can’t--... I can’t think of anything-”

“Oh!” Evidently more than happy to suggest some ideas, E’lija blurts out. “I have some ideas! How about... Queen crane! Or... Immortal Nancy! Or-”

“Shut up stupid! Shut up stupid!”

Bouncing up and down, Orion squeals out, causing the bard to finally collapse off of his chair and spill his milk coffee, which Illya is certain that Lawrence would be more than happy to hop over and drink off the floor.

#ffxiv #ffxivwrite2021 #ffxivwrite #kiwisffxivwrite2021 #illya skawi #laurelis #sigfred #e'lija #fanfic #mine #THIS WAS VERY VERY RUSHED AND I WANTED TO INCLUDE MORE DIALOGUE AND SCENES BUT #IM PRESSED FOR TIME I JUST CAME HOME FROM WORK AAAAA #i originally wanted to write about modern au involving an arcade with the crane game but lulun already did that ;w;#btw go read her fic its SO GOOD

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nakovesh · 3 years

Text

Foster

Nako heard the buzzing of wings well before its source alighted her doorstep. Her lips ticked up in a small, wry smile and she continued her work, hammer singing against metal. Rise and fall, rise and fall. She felt, more than heard, a gathering of aether and then a soft pop, like a twig snapping somewhere close behind her.

“Little One!” a small voice announced impatiently. “You will open your door!”

The Miqo’te’s ears flickered back toward the voice and she set down her hammer, finally turning with a smile on her soot-brushed face for the Sylph who had so insistently bypassed her door.

“Well, greetings to you, too, Lynxio,” Nako chuckled, crossing the room to obediently open the door. “It has been some time!” To this, the Sylph, a creature that appeared as little more than a flying cabbage with a face, buzzed impatiently.

With the door open she paused, her head cocked to one side and a fist planted against her hip, expression expectant. There didn’t seem to be anyone or anything there until something shuffled in the brush near to the door. Nako frowned, her head canting slowly to one side, eyes squinting to catch more movement.

Fear. Uncertainty. Pain. Longing for the memory of a soft touch that would come from above.

Lynxio was speaking again, but to Nako it was as if their words were spoken from the other side of a dense grove, the sounds muted and distant, catching snagging on leaf and moss on their way over. Instead, she focused on a small, damp nose as it hesitantly pushed its way through the overgrowth just beyond her doorstep. It was then that she caught sight of one large black eye, framed in long, tawny lashes.

“A fawn,” Nako said softly as she crouched to squat in the doorway.

“As this one just said, Small One!” Lynxio quipped, voice tinged with gentle irritation. “It was found not far from the Hawthorn, wandering and alone.”

Nako reached into a pouch at her hip, fumbling about for a moment until she produced a small piece of dried fruit. With the flake resting in her palm, she extended it toward the gradually approaching fawn who paused before shuffling closer once more, all lanky with ungainly limbs and ears. Lynxio hovered just over her left shoulder, rapidly beating wings buffeting her hair.

“This is the way of the Wood, Lynxio,” Nako said absently as she held her hand very still. “Beasts must eat, and so they hunt, sometimes leaving younglings like this in the wind. You know this.” Nako’s words weren’t admonishing, so much as wrote, spoken from a simple acceptance. The fawn finally approached her hand, damp nose brushing with the barest of touches against her fingertips. With her teeth set in her lip Nako suppressed a giggle.

Lynxio’s buzzing rose in pitch, something Nako had come to recognize as a Sylphic scoff. “Yes, but the bleating of this Hooved One displeased this one,” the Sylph huffed in their bell-like tone. “Small One knows well the arts of caring for the great and meek beasts of the Wood, and especially how to calm its bleating babes.”

Nako smiled faintly at this, watching the fawn nibble timidly at the fruit. She felt Lynxio switch shoulders impatiently, wings clipping the tips of her ears in their hurry to which Nako winced and flicked them back, away from the source of their beating.

“But Little One. Nako,” Lynxio hummed with a rare use of her given name. That brought Nako up short. “An oath is an oath, a bond a bond, and as you well know a deal a deal! Dear Little one, make not this one appeal!” the Sylph chimed in gentle warning.

Nako grimaced at that, causing her hand to jerk slightly and startle the poor fawn. She sighed and softly clicked her tongue, beckoning it back toward her crouched form. “There is no need to bring up old contracts, Lynxio,” Nako sighed, opening her arms to allow the shivering fawn into her embrace. “I have no intention of breaking any deals, oaths or bonds no matter how silly the stipulations may be.” Nako paused, smirking a bit at her own words, quietly impressed with her growing vocabulary as she pressed a soft kiss to one of the fawn’s ears.

“If it is bleating that bothers you, the bleating will cease,” Nako intoned softly as she rose to her feet, cradling the small, gangly creature. “The stone jar, there, by the window.” Nako nodded toward the object by a table laden with ingots and billets. Take a spoonful of the powder within and pop it into that mug just there. The kettle is by the forge.”

Lynxio’s buzzing lowered an octave, something Nako long took for Sylphic grumbling, but they did as bade anyhow while Nako set the fawn on a blanket. Crouching over the trembling creature, Nako tried to calm herself, to be a beacon of safety as she stroked softly over the fawn’s velvet ears. Slowly, gradually, the trembling ceased.

Warmth. Calm. Safety after ceaseless panic. Weariness. Lingering pain.

Nako looked the young deer over, focusing on that hint of pain until her eyes alighted on its hind left ankle. Lifting it gingerly, Nako closed her eyes and drew in a long breath. She felt the pulse of aether course through the fawn’s form, uninterrupted until it reached the point where she held it. There the aether stuttered and shivered, gathering at the point of injury. Fractured, but not broken. Fortunate. Nako released the breath she held, and with it some of the Shroud’s rich aether eagerly flowed into the breach.

Opening her eyes, she smiled down at the drowsy creature and released its hind limb. Aether could do much, but she would have to wrap the limb later to make certain the joint held fast. For the moment though, a bit of food and rest was in order.

Much later, Nako hummed softly to herself as she passed a whetstone over a newly finished blade. The fawn dozed in its nest of blankets to the slick, rhythmic sound of metal on stone. The sound abruptly stopped as a low whistle sounded from the open door and a chocobo the color of lightly browned toast dipped his head to peer inside.

“Good of you to show up, my noblesteed,” Nako chided gently with a fond grin. “I suppose you are wondering about the little mote of fur over there? No, you cannot eat him.”

To this the chocobo scratched his talons on the stone step and whistled his apparent assent.

“Well, of course I need you to look after him, Appa,” she huffed, apparently responding to the whistle. “I cannot look after him while I’m at the forge and he will appreciate leaning against your legs as he did his mother’s.” With a shrug she resumed the use of the whetstone.

The fawn in question lifted its head, blinking slowly as it spied the chocobo. The chocobo shuffled through the doorway with a soft, questioning coo, plodding over strewn tools and crates to reach his new charge. Once he reached the blanket nest, Appa lowered his beak, patiently allowing the fawn a fumbling sniff.

“Why not take him to go play? He could use a good stretch of that hind leg, you know,” she muttered as bent over her work.

Appa chirped and nodded his feathered head toward the door and the fawn, apparently taking this as an invitation, rose on stumbling hooves. With the chocobo leading the way, the pair made their way toward the door.

“And be gentle!” Nako said sharply, not looking up from the blade.

The chocobo whistled in agreement, and with oaths settled and deals fostered, made his way into the Wood.

#ffxiv #ffxiv rp #mine #ffxivwrite2021

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sharkbaitsekki · 4 years

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Zakkura at the Golden Saucer. Fluffy but funny! Though, honestly, I'll be happy with anything. Thank you!!

The pressure was on Cloud now, and it was nearly palpable in the air around him. All of his muscles were tense as he waited, slowing his breathing and trying to focus. His grip around the leather tightened. His eyes darted around to collect all the information he could later use to his advantage. His entire body was taut like a bow, aimed and ready to find its target true. Cloud only had one mission to fulfill here tonight, and failure was absolutely not an option. Too much hung in the balance of his success.

“Let’s do this fair and square,” his opponent smirked, and Cloud glared at him in return.

“Bring it,” he taunted, and took one last deep breath as the announcer chimed in.

“And... begin!”

The bang of the starter gun was deafening, but not as deafening as Zack’s whooping as he kicked his chocobo into a well-timed starting sprint.

“Seeya later, Cloudy!” Zack taunted, sticking his tongue out at the blonde who frowned at his own missed start and kicked his canary yellow chocobo into a gallop.

“It’s okay,” he reassured his mount (and himself). “This is the long track. Zack stands no chance if he doesn’t remember that.”

His chocobo crowed in acknowledgement, and settled into its rapid pace. Cloud kept his eyes peeled for obstacles, leading the animal over the initially simple bumps and turns in the race track. He didn’t mean to brag, but he was actually quite talented at chocobo riding.

It just so happened that Zack “Golden Child” Fair was also good at it. Unfairly so. Cloud just wanted to knock him down a peg, finally have something to tease Zack about, for all the teasing the latter did for him.

Speaking of the man, Cloud huffed self-satisfactorily as he saw him turn the next sharp bend. As expected, his charcoal grey chocobo had slowed down after its initial burst of energy, allowing Cloud to catch up with his steady pace.

“How’s that overconfidence treating you?” he taunted as he came up behind Zack, enjoying the brief flash of panic in the older boy’s eyes.

“Rather well, thanks for asking!” Zack grinned, not seeming too worried. “Don’t worry Cloudy! I’m sure you’ll look ravishing in that dress!”

“Like I’d actually let you force me into another one of those things.” Having brief flashbacks to Don Corneo’s mansion, Cloud could only shudder.

He focused on avoiding the more treacherous mountain terrain for a bit, distancing himself from Zack to take it easier and steer his chocobo away from the pitfalls and rocks, smug when he noticed Zack’s chocobo trip and stumble in the distance with a loud crow and an accompanying cry of surprise. That was Cloud’s opportunity to catch up again, this time side-by-side with Zack.

“Don’t get your feathers too ruffled when I win,” he scoffed, lowering his body to ease his chocobo into a sprint. The wind whipped past him, whistling in his ear, but it wasn’t loud enough to cover up the sound of Zack’s loud, unrestrained laughter.

“Was that a pun?” he laughed, also lowering his weight to keep up with Cloud in his sprint. “I can’t believe it. A pun! From Mr. Sunshine himself!”

“Stop talking,” Cloud gruffly said, feeling his cheeks heat up despite the cold wind on his face. “I’ll push you off your mount.”

“I’d like to see you try.” Zack’s voice suddenly dropped and oh, there was the competitive streak that had started this ordeal in the first place. A shiver ran across Cloud’s body, heating him up at the sound of that tone.

“Don’t test me,” he threatened, bringing his chocobo closer until he was within reach of Zack and shoving his shoulder roughly. At least Zack hadn’t seemed to expect it of him, his chocobo veering off course slightly and narrowly avoiding a protruding tree root in consequence.

If Cloud wore a smug smirk on his face as he took the lead, nobody saw.

“Hey, I’m coming for ya!” Never the quitting type, Zack quickly caught back up to him, this time taking the lead on the assault by trying to bump Cloud’s chocobo off the path. Cloud pulled on the reigns tightly to keep his mount on the right track, and while he was focused, Zack leaned over and grabbed his arm. “Two can play at that game!”

“Let go!” Cloud grunted, trying to shake the annoyance off, tightening his legs around his mount to use both of his hands to pry Zack off. The latter only seemed to be having the time of his life like this, also letting go of the reigns in order to wrestle Cloud in what was likely a violation of at least four rules on the racetrack.

“Come on, Cloudy, you can do better!”

“You’re so annoying... Get off!”

“Can’t make me! I’ll do what I have to to win!”

“In your dreams, weirdo.”

Zack laughed at that, genuinely amused, and perhaps it was the radiant grin on his face that suddenly took Cloud’s breath away. His heart skipped a beat as if free-falling when he looked at the sheer happiness on his partner’s expression.

Less than a year ago, golden days like these seemed unattainable for both of them, each one stuck in a nightmare of their own. How far they’d come, Cloud realized, simply by never giving up on one another.

Instead of having his eyes on Zack’s blinding euphoria, however, he should have paid attention to the racetrack. It was the panicked cawing of his chocobo that drew him out of his contemplation, and he turned to the front urgently.

Too little too late, Cloud noted the boulder in their path at the same time as Zack did. Just when Cloud felt the grip on his arm begin to loosen, their chocobos let out twin cries of panic and each split into a different direction to avoid the boulder.

“Whoa!” Before they knew it, they were both free-falling off their mounts, hanging on tightly to one another in the absence of all else, the gesture nearly ingrained into them after so long of it having kept them alive. It wasn’t too tall of a drop, but when they landed awkwardly in a tangle of limbs, it was undeniably painful.

“Oww....” Zack groaned, finally letting go once they were on solid ground, sitting up to rub his head where he’d cracked it against the ground.

“This is why you should’ve been more careful,” Cloud complained, mimicking the action and cradling his elbow where it had impacted the ground painfully, lightning bolts shooting all the way into his shoulder. At the sight of him, Zack’s face only split into a grin again, despite the spot of blood welling up on his forehead. “Hey, be serious for a second!”

“No way,” Zack chuckled. “That was fun. Sucks we didn’t finish the race though.”

“Zack!”

“Is your arm okay?”

“Yes, it’s...” Cloud groaned, realizing he wouldn’t be winning this. “It’s fine. Zack, that was dangerous.”

“There are worse dangers in life,” Zack casually said, and meant it. Shrugging, he put his hand out to inspect Cloud’s arm, making sure it wasn’t broken. “So wait... if neither of us won, then who’s going to wear the dress!?”

“Nobody’s wearing dresses!” the blonde grumbled, jumping when Zack touched a sensitive part of his arm.

“But you’d be so pretty...”

“I will end you.”

Zack laughed at that, letting Cloud’s arm go to instead cradle his jaw in his hands. They were dusty from the fall but warm, and Cloud immediately felt his heart skip a beat. Almost on instinct, his eyes darted down to his lips, feeling light at the sight of the beautiful, simple smile etched on them.

“Alright, it’s a tie, then,” Zack conceded in a softer voice, caressing Cloud’s cheek. “Consolation prize?”

“You’re such a baby.” He said that, but Cloud did lean in to kiss him, soft and brief, enjoying every moment of it. It was at times like these that he realized how close he’d come to losing Zack forever, and he hated the feeling of anxiety that came with all of their moments together.

“Mhm,” Zack hummed, drawing back and then back in for another kiss, slightly longer this time. “Sorry for pushing you off. Didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“It’s fine.” Cloud didn’t dare open his eyes just yet, just in case this was just another mako dream. “Glad you’re well enough to keep making fun of me.”

“I’ll make fun of you even on my deathbed,” Zack promised lightly, although there was something bitter to it that prompted Cloud to lean in and hold on tight to him.

The two of them stayed there for a minute, tangled in one another and breathing softly in tandem, letting the joy of their peaceful moment together wash away all the doubts that always sat at the back of their minds. The “what if”s and “could’ve been”s faded from attention, replaced instead by the acute awareness of how warm, solid, and alive they were under one another’s hands.

Cloud couldn’t imagine where he would be now if not in Zack’s arms.

“Hey! Lovebirds!”

“Well, moment’s over,” Zack chuckled, moving away from Cloud just in time to see Aerith ride around the bend, heading their way on a beautiful white chocobo. Tifa followed not too far behind on a pink mount, worry etched on her face as she spotted them.

“We totally saw you wipe out on the cameras!” Aerith laughed shamelessly as she stopped next to them. “You two owe damages to the racetrack owner, just saying.”

“Oh, good. More money we don’t have.” Cloud punctuated that sentence with a glare directed at his other half, who, in return, simply chuckled sheepishly.

“Oops.”

“Well, climb on. Tifa and I will take you back,” Aerith prompted. “Gotta say, though... there really are more romantic places to make out than on the chocobo racing track.”

“Eh,” Zack shrugged, helping Cloud stand and linking their fingers together. “We’re used to just taking whatever opportunity we can get.” And Cloud clung on tightly, renewing his eternal vow never to let go.

#zakkura #full disclaimer ive only played the remake and im avoiding og ff7 spoilers #so i dont actually know anything abt the golden saucer i just watched a couple videos #i hope its okay wweeehhhh i feel like i coulda done better #ff7 #ff7r #ffvii #ffvii remake #ff7 remake #clack #cin's writing

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zenithlux · 4 years

Text

EXTRA #2 - Yearning

#12 got skipped because I actually turned it into an entire chapter of EOA. It was submitted for credit; ya’ll just won’t see it ^^

It was an unspoken fact that Haurchefant had feelings for Z’iyanna. Anyone who gave the pair any attention could tell that from a mile away. Why else would he do all the things he did for her? Why else would he accompany her on every adventure, keep all her secrets, and help her cope with everything when no one else could? Why else would he give her gifts and chocobos and things that no one else had ever given her? And Z’iyanna herself clearly knew this, as it was another open secret that she probably felt the same way.

Yet, they didn’t seem to be making any progress, and it angered Tataru immensely.

“I just don’t get it,” She said to Alphinaud. “They seem to be so close yet they’re not that close.” She looked up. “You know what I mean right?”

Alphinaud, who was already blushing, sipped at his tea. “I suppose so?”

Tataru huffed, then tilted her head. “Maybe I can help them.”

Alphinaud choked on his drink. “They’ll figure it out in time I’m sure,” He said as tactfully as possible. “No need to add any undue stress.”

But Tataru already had that mischievous glint in her eye, and Alphinaud knew there was no further hope in attempting to dissuade her.

---------------

It started with flowers in Z’iyanna’s room without a note. “Where did these come from?” She asked Alphinaud that morning.

“Good question,” Alphinaud said without looking up.

Z’iyanna frowned. “You’re a terrible liar.”

Alphinaud avoided her gaze. “They’re supposed to be from Haurchefant.”

“Supposed to be?”

“... They may have come from Tataru in an attempt to… bring you closer.”

Z’iyanna rolled her eyes, but Haurchefant didn’t see the light blush on her cheeks. She really didn’t think the deception was necessary. She and Haurchefant were close enough as it was, and she already counted on him for everything important. She did not need flowers or presents to sway her otherwise…

… though they were welcome.

“Lady Z’iyanna?”

She spun around, flowers still in hand as she met Haurchefant’s gaze. Except, he too was holding flowers that almost perfectly matched hers. “Oh Tataru,” She muttered. “You got some too?”

He held up a note. “Your undying affection?”

Her blush deepened as she glared at Alphinaud for good measure. He hid his face with his teacup and didn’t meet her gaze. “That’s…” She trailed off when she saw Haurchefant’s smile. Was he blushing too? Impossible. Surely he had to know this was some kind of elaborate trap. “What else did you get?”

“Just this,” Haurchefant said. “Well, and a feather from Zephyr.”

A feather from her own Chocobo? Did that have some kind of meaning she didn’t know about? And Haurchefant must have seen her confusion, because he said, “In Ishgard, a feather from one’s Chocobo means you care for them more than one’s closest companion.”

She paused for a moment, aware that her cheeks were a fiery crimson. Then, she looked up and smiled. “Well if I had known that then I would have given you one sooner.”

His ears turned bright pink. And for the first time in a long while, he actually hesitated before speaking again. “That is… very kind of you.”

“As are these flowers,” She said. “Very nice of you to have them delivered straight to my room.”

His smile returned as he shook his head. “Yes… I…” He paused. “I’ll be sure to send them more often then.”

And as Alphinaud peered over his cup for the first time that morning, he saw Tataru around the corner beaming. She mouthed “I told you so,” before celebrating her victory and disappearing down the hallway.

#zenni-writes #ffxivwrite2020 #ffxivwrite #haurchefant #warrior of light #wol #tataru #alphinaud #haurchefant x wol

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korporxie · 4 years

Text

Prompt 2: Sway

For Elowyn, it felt like the whole world had blossomed vividly into color all over again.

After being on board the Forte, the idea of going home was more unappealing than it ever had been. She had been so close to the stars in the airship - close enough, on some nights, that it felt like she could reach out and touch them. They glistened silver, flickered blue, shimmered gold, without a sliver of polluted light to diminish their glow. Gabe needed to sleep at night to be up early to help with the ship, but Elowyn would stay up, either curled up on his chest and watching the sky through the porthole, or going above deck to simply watch it all in awe with a blanket around her shoulders.

And the Sea of Clouds had been... indescribable. It looked like her train of thought did, with all of its strange flora and fauna and crystals littered across the isles. For the first time in a long time, her soul had felt truly at peace.

All good things, though, must come to an end.

The return to Dravania was inevitable. She had to go see her parents and check up on them. Jareck needed to go back and trade his goods with the locals. And so it was with a heavy heart that Elowyn kissed Gabe goodbye - just for a little while, with the promise to call him each night, to be back soon.

He didn’t say aloud that he would miss her, but the way his arms lingered around her, and the way he ran his fingers through her ringlets, the way his lips pressed against hers... Well. It told her everything that she would need to know.

“Call me if y’need me, ma petite,” Gabe murmured, and Elowyn smiled before Jareck called her away. Her eyes lingered on Gabe’s of meadow and of sea before, finally, relenting, and following after her uncle.

Thankfully, the trip back to Dravania was quick, with Gabe not around to chide her for aether travel - even if her head was spinning once her and Jareck’s feet hit the path leading up to the old house secluded in the forest. A wild chocobo eyed them as Elowyn got her bearings before letting out a ‘kweh!’ and meandering on its way, yellow feathers ruffled up.

Elowyn eyed up the old mansion as they walked the wooded path to it, trees heavy with foliage hanging overhead. The scent of sweet flowers drifted through the air, with the slight bite of cold around them promising that autumn was just around the corner. It was a peaceful place, Elowyn thought. She could hear the babbling brook, could see the gardens she had tended to so carefully as they crested the hill, watching as servants dipped in and out from the back entryway leading into the kitchens.

Chickens and geese and ducks trotted around as they were fed by the hand of a young, pretty Elezen girl, who beamed when she saw Elowyn. The young Miqo’te had to wonder why her parents hired more staff once she went adventuring, really. They never had a particular need for extra hands before, save for a couple of maids and a cook and a groundskeeper. Why begin with all this fanfare now?

Gabe would find it all absurd.

“I’ll take your bag up to your room, Elo-child, if you like,” Jareck said, shaking Elowyn out of her thoughts. “Go take a warm bath. You are still pale.”

“Ah... Yes. Yes, right. Thank you, uncle,” she replied, smiling up at him, and he smiled back, gently ruffling up her hair.

“Elowyn!” a voice called from the heavy oak doors - adorned with stained glass and handsome, dragon head iron knockers. Elowyn glanced upwards as her fluffy ears twitched, and she found herself smiling again when she noted that it was her mother waiting in the door, wearing a gown of deepest blue. Her reading spectacles were low upon her nose until she removed them, letting them dangle from around her neck on a thin silver chain.

Gwyneth did not smile back, however. Jareck frowned at the way the woman’s jaw ticked as her daughter ran towards her, still dressed in a pinafore that was covered in soil, her braids wild and untamed, looking...

Looking more a farm girl than the daughter of a wealthy Sharlayan scholar.

“Mother, it’s good to see you!” Elowyn said brightly, Jareck still watching silently from behind her as he approached. The younger woman’s arms were outstretched to Gwyneth, as if she had forgotten that the woman didn’t hug.

That she never embraced.

No, Elo-child, Jareck thought to himself. You are thinking of Gabriel’s mother.

“Mm,” Gwyneth noised, eyeing up her child with her lips pressed into a thin, disapproving line. “Come in. And wash your hands. I must needs speak with you. It’s a matter of some urgency.”

Elowyn’s arms lowered to her side, her smile wavering for just a moment before she bobbed her head in confirmation. Jareck glared at Gwyneth as her daughter took off running to wash herself up, and Gwyneth only cast him a withering sort of glare before turning.

“If you two are going to return to my home looking so unkempt, then it is only right that you begin to use the servants’ entrance to come inside,” she said coldly, barely even glancing over her shoulder, before whisking off down the long hallway - and letting the doors get shut on Jareck, her husband’s most beloved and oldest friend.

---

Swirling, wooden staircases and glass ceilings, marble hallways, greenhouses blossoming with life that wouldn’t otherwise be sustained in Dravania, stables with the finest black chocobo money could buy, and a library that rivaled some in major cities, a ballroom waiting to be filled, tapestries of the best silks and endless places to hide and to study...

The Nollett home was like something out of a fairytale book, including the spiral tower that housed the only child, with every creature comfort she could ask for to keep her content and complacent.

Every creature, however, will grow restless in captivity, sooner or later. Gwyneth chided herself for not realizing as much sooner. Her daughter was obedient, but even an obedient pet can grow rebellious if it falls out of step with its training - if it’s taught something else, encouraged to no longer listen to its master.

Gwyneth watched out the window as a slow drizzle began, sipping from her cup of tea. Her husband was away on business, to Ishgard, though he hadn’t bothered to meet Elowyn while she had been there. Gwyneth felt a tic in her jaw as she recalled what the hunter who had arrived to her home in muddy shoes had told her, a quiver of arrows hanging over his shoulder.

Elowyn, and an Elezen man with a limp, and a Temple Knight that had sent her running off into the night after her handicapped friend.

“Mother!”

Gwyneth didn’t look up when she heard the breathless call of her child. Still slow, she simply took another sip of her cup before slowly placing it upon the table with its saucer. Elowyn watched her with wide eyes and reddened cheeks from her haste, changed into a clean dress, her hair loose save for two thick locks smoothed back into a braid behind her head.

“How long have you been getting courted, Elowyn, without telling your parents?” Gwyneth asked softly, without much pause, and Elowyn blinked those silver eyes at her in surprise.

The girl never could lie.

“I’m sorry, I don’t--”

“Do not play dumb, Elowyn. It suits you too well.”

Gwyneth rose from her chair, midnight blue skirts rustling behind her as she rounded the couch her daughter was standing behind. Elowyn watched her with parted lips, like a deer caught in the lantern lights of a wagon.

“How did you find out?” Elowyn asked, her voice tiny, and Gwyneth resisted the urge to lift a hand and smack her across the cheek for admitting so readily to it - and for being so disgustingly meek over it, too. Instead, the older Miqo’te took a breath, staring her daughter down.

“A young hunter came to speak to you about it while you were away, but alas. I was forced to have such a conversation without my own flesh and blood alerting me to the fact that she had found herself a beau,” Gwyneth said, smiling, as she rested her hands lightly on the back of the couch. “A young Elezen gentleman, I was told? Of Ishgard? May I ask to which family he belongs, Elowyn?”

Elowyn swallowed a sudden lump in her throat, reaching a hand up to touch the locket that was hanging around her neck. Her mother’s eyes drifted to it, an eyebrow raising, before she looked back to her daughter’s face.

“Of... Coerthas... ma’am,” she said, softly, not quite making eye contact. “Not of Ishgard. And of... the Beaumont family.”

“The Beaumont family...” Gwyneth clicked her tongue and hummed. “The cousins of the Durendaires? Distant as they may be, but I know the father has quite the reputation as a rather zealous minister of Halone.”

“...No, ma’am. I am... unaware if there is any relation to any of the High Houses, minor or otherwise. They were driven to Ishgard after the Calamity,” Elowyn continued, glancing down at her feet briefly.

A hunter? The only hunter who has seen me with Gabe was Alec. Why was he coming looking for me? What does he want? And why would he tell my mother any of this at all--?

“I see,” Gwyneth mused softly. “But pray tell, child - what is it they did before the Calamity? What is it that they do now? I should like to invite your beau over, but one must know what to expect and how to cater. If they are not of the High Houses of Ishgard, perhaps someone else of high rank...?”

Mother, why are you doing this?

Elowyn swallowed again, and she mustered up all the spine in her steel that she could in order to meet the woman’s cold and piercing eyes. Of course she hadn’t been met at the door because Gwyneth was happy to see her. Of course. There was another reason. Alec had let the cat out of the bag - and, Elowyn assumed, had made it clear that Gabriel Beaumont was not a man of wealth, of power, or of influence... But why?

“They were farmers,” Elowyn replied, her tone steady - much steadier than she thought it would be. “And now, the mother works as a seamstress, and the eldest girls as servants to High Houses. My... beau... picks up odd jobs. He was contracted under me to assist me in dungeon diving.”

A sky pirate. The most beautiful, wonderful sky pirate. He doesn’t have much money, but he loves me and respects me. His family is poor, but they love me, too. They treat me like one of them. They mean the world to me, is what she wanted to say, but... It didn’t seem like quite the time for it.

“And the father?”

The deck is creaking overhead. The room is filled with laughter and music and the scent of spilled booze. Arnaut Beaumont spun her around the room as their laughter joined everyone else’s, with his scarred face and light feet and mind that was not always his own.

No. Not Arnaut Beaumont. The Capitaine.

“Dead,” Elowyn said, meeting her mother’s eyes directly and hoping that her face wouldn’t betray that she was lying, just this once.

Gwyneth let a silence settle in the air between them, heavy and pregnant. Elowyn tried to keep her head lifted, her jaw set, but... She wasn’t a fighter. She did not know how to cut someone with her words, much less her own mother - her own mother, who had words as her weapon of choice. Elowyn didn’t push back. She was soft. She didn’t angry.

But if she was going to get angry because of anyone... Well. It was, and always had been, because of Gabriel Beaumont.

“I suppose every girl must have her flights of fancy. I was not immune to the charms of men of lesser classes than me,” Gwyneth murmured, finally. “But this will not go on for much longer, Elowyn. You will end things with this young man soon. You serve only to set yourself up for heart break. Men like him want someone they can relate to, and you don’t quite live up to that, do you, our dear little princess?”

She said it so sweetly that one could easily believe she was simply being a doting mother, and gods, how Elowyn wanted it to be true.

“I anticipate you’ll be going back to Ishgard to see him and his brood again soon,” Gwyneth continued, while Elowyn felt that unfamilair heat rising on the back of her neck, in the pit of her stomach. Her mother stepped around her, adjusting the chronometer on her wrist and looking at the time as she spoke.

“End it with him before you return home. If you’re ready for romantic ventures, then your father and I will find you someone more suitable than a young man who takes... odd jobs.”

“No.”

The word fell from Elowyn’s lips fast and hard, and even she was surprised at her tone. Gwyneth stopped in her journey towards the door leading out of the sitting room that Elowyn had been called to, raising a brow, before slowly turning back around to face her daughter. Her expression had changed into something amused, albeit annoyed, into... cold and angry.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I said no, Mother,” Elowyn said, swallowing, willing her voice not to shake. “No, I will not be ending anything with him. I love him, and he loves me, and--”

“If you believe that a man who has come from nothing could truly love a young woman like yourself, with no ulterior motives, then you are even more of a fool than I thought you to be.” Gwyneth’s voice was like a knife, slicing harshly through the air as she stared at her daughter. “You think he has no interest at all in your fortune, child? He loves you? Don’t be absurd. He has no father, and it sounds as though he has quite the family to feed. Of course he’ll tell you that he loves you. Do not be so naive.”

“Mother, it isn’t like that,” Elowyn insisted, stepping closer, surprised at how strong her own voice was, how her hands weren’t shaking. “It isn’t like that at all. You have to understand-- I will not be swayed from him--”

“Then when your stomach is swollen and heavy with a bastard, and he has made off with your finery and your pretty things to sell... Don’t dare come to this house, crying. Stay in the gutter he leaves you in,” Gwyneth says softly, leaning in towards Elowyn. “You will not have any help awaiting you here.”

Leaning back, Gwyneth sniffed before turning and fully exiting the room. Elowyn watched her retreating back before buckling over the couch, not realizing just how much she had been holding her breath until she was able to properly exhale - not realizing just how angry she was until she was in that ornate room alone with it consuming her.

#WOOF #long post #ffxiv rp #ff14 rp #ffxiv writing challenge #writing #elowyn #ffxivwrite2020

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candideangel · 4 years

Text

Unseen Scars

Crystal Memories Pairing: G’raha Tia x Angelique (WoL/D) Rating: Teen Word Count: 3177

Memories were a funny thing to consider, old memories buried under new, some resurface most that are full of humor bring light a story to a table. However, there are those memories that leave an imprint on the heart and soul, and whilst new memories of the good things following a positive future are nice, they are simply a salve over the pain and scar tissue. These are the kind that while can simply be hidden would oftentimes find themselves a way to resurface and reopen, certain moments causing the switch to click. This was often seen in those who suffered great trauma, from battlefields to tragic accidents, but none could feel it more than the Warriors of Light and Darkness. Some had decent ways of coping, but for a bard these shadows that still lingered fleetingly from periphery ready to make a strike when she least expected it.

“Come on, we can’t let them get away!” Alisaie’s voice practically echoed as there was a march of boots across the fields of Mor Dhona, crossing onto the broken brick and cobblestone roads that had once been neatly paved until the land became ravaged by the calamity. As it turned out being a Scion was nothing short of too terribly boring, quiet at times, but never often boring. There was always something that could have gone awry like rampaging flocks of beasts to what they were chasing down now; a simple matter of a thief trying to get away with a chocobo caravan filled with deliveries meant for trade.

However, while the terrain was rough, the speed in which the thieves were taken off was certainly making it difficult for those who could cast spells to get much in. The other downside is the cast or firing off a wrong spell could potentially harm the held hostage trader family that were still held somewhere within the cart. Though there was a pair who seemed to understand the location like the backs of their hands, a glint in the purple tinted light of the gloomy weather’s anemic sun reflecting from Thancred’s gunblade as he took a shot, aiming to send at least the chocobos reeling, the blast resonating from the impact as there was a smashing of wood, but the birds were still being spurred forward.

From one of the jutting crystals, Angelique looked ahead for a moment then brought two fingers to her lips, unlike a call for her chocobo companion, this was a sharp single blast that made red ears perk straight up like a pin. Crimson eyes glanced up as G’raha Tia pulled himself up from behind from behind a rock along the path while his other was gripping the staff in his hand, taking in a deep breath as he was still waiting patiently, but part of him was still uncertain that this plan of hers was really going to work. However, it wasn’t the time to hesitate as his opening had come to serve, the crystal focus that Tataru had plucked from the tower aglow with its brilliant blue hue and body moving on its own to step out onto the path, an all too familiar spell coming from his lips, “Break!”

Like a charm his aim for the chocobos talons and the feathery companions of mortals would drive to a very sudden halt, startling the driver who was trying to get the blasted things to go. However, finding the magic and the one person on the middle of the road, there was a click of a flintlock’s hammer and the barrel a dark void in front of crimson eyes. For a moment G’raha could feel himself slightly frozen, and his heart was suddenly in his throat, he only remembered a pistol like that once...and he had been the one on the receiving end of that bullet. Or...at least the Exarch had been.

Instead of the blast that would come off from it, or a trigger pulled, there was a sharp whistle again as this time an arrow came shooting down as if from the heavens knocking the pistol out of the man’s hand and catching on the wood of the footrest, sleek red and white plumage dancing in the gentle breeze.

“Hmph, what a showoff.” Thancred huffed in amusement as Alisaie took to the coach and held one of the thieves at the point of her blade now that the caravan had been halted, and Angelique had took a jump from her perch, landing on the front, pulling back on another nocked arrow of the similar plumage while her foot was firmly pressed on the metal of the pistol.

As they had rounded up the thieves, Alphinaud and Urianger had gone to tend to the hostages after they were free from their fetters. It was good, they were much more unharmed and would be able to return to the boy that had come calling for aid, especially with the smallest girl who was curled up and shaking from the shock of it all in her mother’s arms. “You know you could have kept us informed us about your little plan before you decided to take G’raha Tia into your schemes.” Alisaie sighed as she rest her hands on her hips and sent a look to Angelique who shrugged and crossed her arms, just keeping an eye on the roped up thieves knowing Thancred and Y’shtola could handle them easily if matters had taken a turn.

“I understand, but it was a sudden thought that came to mind. I rather thought it was a good idea, risky, but it at least did work.” Though she hadn’t expected the pistol, but it was why she was there, to provide cover for him. It was risky, and one would argue that she had put G’raha into a position that could’ve gotten him severely injured after only just coming back to waking in the Source with the Exarch’s mind and memory melded into his younger day body. “But...I get the context of your phrase.” the bard relented, figuring it better to cross that bridge now rather than wait for the explosion.

Alisaie’s shoulders relaxed for a moment after all; how could she put G’raha through his paces if he was already put back onto bed rest? Just as she opened her mouth to respond there was a high pitched “Kweh!” and a startled shout, followed by a clattering of metal hitting the stones and soft hisses of pain. The two had turned to see G’raha Tia on the ground, having fallen from a rock with Florian; Angelique’s beloved chocobo’s Celeste blue feathers looking a little ruffled. “Geez…” Alisaie sighed, but her blue eyes looked to the corners to see that Angelique had turned and had gone rigid.

Green eyes stared at the scene before her, and while there was some, very soft tone of rationality trying to tell her it wasn’t real, the rugged scene of Mor Dhona had melted away into the scene inside of the Crystal Tower. The clattering of a staff echoing on crystal floors, hearing his cries of pain, clutching at his own leg that had started to turn to crystal. It flickered, back and forth, like a magitek’s reception when the lines had been cut off until everything in her ears became this kind of overwhelming sound of static with only his soft sounds of pain and crackling breaking the sound. Her heart started to pump with a rampant set of emotions; fear, anger, sadness, hurt...a whirling torrent flooding her, making her stomach churn and everything feel so disconnected.

“I’m fine.” G’raha spoke to Alisaie with a soft grunt as he pulled himself off the ground, “Florian gave me a bit of a start and I lost my footing. Not quite used to being a bit lighter than usual.” He spoke with jest, smiling a little though his leg throbbed with a possible scrape on his flesh though the clothes Tataru had made were still intact. But just as he trailed off he saw Alisaie curiously shaking Angelique who had been standing there as if stunned or charmed and he felt everything in his system grow cold as he saw the far away stare in the bard’s green eyes. “Oh no. No, no, no.” he felt a small surge of panic and regret fill him when he scrambled over and his hands would soon touch her face.

“Angelique, it’s okay.” he spoke trying to keep his voice level as his fingers brushed some of her golden bangs away from her face. “Focus, concentrate on my voice.” G’raha would lightly hold her face in his hands again making sure that even if her eyes were staring off several malms that she would come to focus. “I’m here, I’m fine...whatever you’re feeling, whatever you’re seeing, it’s not there. It’s not this moment.” Though he knew deep down what she could have been seeing, knowing what could have thrown her into the state. There was a long beat of quiet words like a delicate mantra, soothing tones to try to bring someone back to the present, and as if she had been dredged underwater unable to take a breath finally took a gasp for air, perhaps for the anxious pattern where everything had been rapid and hard to control. G’raha and the Scions watched with growing concern, but the red haired miqo’te was both thankful and apologetic as his thumb brushed against a sudden gale of tears that started to stream down her cheeks. “There we are…” he muttered softly and pulled her close for a moment, speaking a soft apology to Angelique’s ear and helped the bard collect herself.

“Why don’t you take the civilians back to Revenant's Toll? I’m certain their son and brother will be happy to see that no harm had come to them.” He suggested and Angelique took a deep breath to calm down and nodded.

“Yes, that’s a good idea.” she responded, voice a little shaken still, but she cleared it to regain some confidence. Turning on her heel she offered the three a smile and bowed politely before asking them to follow her back to the town. Thancred eyed them for a moment then looked at G’raha, making sure the bard was well out of earshot as he tossed the tied up culprits to the back of the caravan as the Break spell had been wearing away from the chocobos so they could follow back to town.

“What in the seven hells happened there?” His voice spoke brow furrowed into a scowl, but it seemed G’raha had been preparing for a reaction of some kind and made a small gesture for him to calm down.

“I will explain when we reach back to Revenant's Toll, but at this particular time it wouldn’t be prudent.” He would rebuke with a surprisingly level tone before going over to Florian and the dropped staff that had fallen to the ground, reaching up to lightly pet the chocobo, who had in returned nuzzled him and took off in a quick clip as the Scions gathered what they had to before working to take the thieves to the proper authorities in the small location as well as return the carriage and supplies to the traders.

~o~o~

After turning the thieves over to the Brass Blades that were stationed in Revenant’s Toll, G’raha had started to explain what had happened with Angelique. Most of all what had happened during their chase down of Elidibus, when he had collapsed, leg succumbing and joining to the crystallization like most of his body had started to. He faintly recalled all the pain he had been in and the brief flash of anger in those eyes that looked to him so caring, succumbing to the sadness that she had obviously been feeling. The top of the tower had been no better, the time to leave the Exarch’s physical body behind and trust to her his mind, his memory, and to hold onto the hope that the gamble they were betting on would come to bear fruit.

“Tis not unheard of that our dear friend would succumb to such terrors even in the broadest of daylight.” Urianger conferred with them. “A significant emotional weight doth beareth heavily upon her shoulders.”

“Angelique used to still have night terrors, but they were not as frequent in the First. Perhaps it was just because of the ease of mind that was at a constant.” G’raha muttered, remembering the nights he sometimes caught her shifting and aching in her sleep, crying out sometimes aloud other times wordless for someone to stop, anyone to help. “But with the fresher wound it is still going to be a road for her to fully recover.”

“And to understand that you aren’t going to vanish just like that.” Alphinaud piped in, his gloved finger lightly thumbing against his grimoire attached to his side. “You act as her emotional anchor now. It’ll only be a matter of time before she allows herself to take her ease and know that you aren’t reverting each time you go and scrape your knee.” He gave a faint chuckle, but it was a half-hearted one at best. “Until then, I think we know it best to leave her in your care.”

G’raha Tia felt his cheeks redden a little and absently his hands fidgeted a little bit. “That’s a fair reasoning I suppose.”

Though it seemed everything had returned to normal at first, Angelique had only disappeared for a change of clothing and a wash up after the duties were done, and joined them for dinner that evening at the bar that was attached to the Rising Stones. They talked, they laughed, and really had a good time as if that moment of the Warrior of Light staring into oblivion had never happened. As the hours waned, everyone parted for their rooms for rest and peaceful end of the evening routines, sleep would come differently for those during the bells that passed.

In the room they had shared in the headquarters, moonbeams shone through a window, illuminating the solid stone floor and gracing a serene scene in its cool silver light. G’raha was sleeping deeply, ears only flicking to the faintest of sounds, but otherwise he was perfectly dead to the world of the room he shared with Angelique, who on the other hand had opened her eyes a little, only shifting to sit up in bed. Fingers would trace along the stitching to the duvet that covered their bed, keeping them warm during the cool nights while her eyes glanced to a set of automatons in a basket nearby in a manner of speaking at their own rest. They were the spitting images of G’raha Tia and the Exarch, ones she was very, very adamant about keeping around much to the real one’s discomfort of having a toy of himself following her around every which way she went.

Her gaze slowly went over to G’raha as he was sleeping, long lashes gracing against his cheeks while his braid had been sufficiently undone and a deep red pooling and curling along the white sheet that covered the pillow. Angelique reached a hand over and gently brushed away some of the strands that were threatening to tickle his nose and smiled a little, he looked so peaceful now and was getting used to a normal sleep schedule now that he wasn’t taking naps for years. However, Angelique’s gaze would start to go lower until she saw the outline of his legs lifting the duvet in a delicate curve while a lump rose in her throat.

“You’re being ridiculous…” she scolded herself, but her action of pushing aside the blanket and sheets carefully would still be done until every ilm was revealed. G’raha had worn shorts to bed...and everything appeared normal with the exception of the small wrapping around his knee to keep away infection as it healed. Reaching over a little; the tips of her fingers touched his skin and she could feel the heat that radiated from him and the flex of his calf muscles, his tail lashing behind him at the small disturbance of the tickling sensation. But, there was no crystal to be seen or felt, no essence of the tower trying to make some kind of haunting return. “...I really am being ridiculous…” she muttered softly as she felt every bit the fool.

Angelique was allowing her fears and paranoia to eat away at her. What use would she be if she acted so amateurish during a time when her attention was needed most?

G’raha’s ears had flicked to attention though, hearing the sound of shuffling sheets and his crimson gaze looked to Angelique who was sitting there, obviously berating herself. Sometimes he didn’t need to know verbally. Slowly he would bring his arm up and wrap around just under her torso, “Come here my love.” he spoke softly though still sleep laden, coaxing her to come and lay herself back down, but instead of her head on the pillow G’raha would guide her to rest her head upon his chest. “Stay a while, and listen now to the soft beat of life.”

Angelique glanced up at him and while she wanted to argue or title his string of words a cliche, she could hear it.

Th-thump. Th-Thump. Th-thump.

A steady beat on a drum, but it wasn’t a drum at all. It was the beat of a heart that had nothing but love and adoration. A sign of life still to be long and healthy. It differed greatly to the Exarch’s in his final moments within that body, everything succumbing to the crystal and becoming hard to function. But despite the comparison Angelique could feel that ease start to overwhelm her in the safety and security to know that he was going to be here for a lot longer. His big hand would gently pet the side of her head, smoothing the pale gold locks and a sleepy smile crossed his features. “I’m not going to leave you. Not in this lifetime.” he spoke gently, letting them stay like that until eventually he felt the tell-tale eased weight of Angelique falling into slumber as the staccato rhythm lulled her back to rest more than his voice could right now.

Reaching over he pulled the blankets back over their bodies, cocooning them back in the warmth from the chill of the room before his hand went back to rest wrapped around her shoulders. This life was a second chance for him, and he wasn’t going to squander it, even if it took days, moons, he would always be her emotional anchor to the scars that were unseen to the eye. Leaning in a little his lips pressed gently to the side of his head and he smiled a little as his eyes started to drift to sleep as a soft word of the Fae language passed by tired lips.

“Goodnight, my angel.”

#ffxiv #ffxiv writings #mun writes #5.3 spoilers #patch 5.3 spoilers!#g'raha tia x angelique #g'raha tia x wol #crystalangel #I haven't written anything containing angelique's mental distress outside of rp #and how G'raha is going to be there to help her cope #it's all part of the healing process of scars gone but not forgotten

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norhimorovine · 4 years

Text

The Dowager Chocobo

Norhi carefully held tight to the lead, though she left some slack between her and Crystal’s halter. “Watch your posture, Lhissa. If you get faster than a walk, she’ll bounce you right off.”

Lhissa held onto the reins of the halter, nervously nodding at her sister’s instruction. Thankfully, Crystal was a very calm chocobo, even if she was a large draught bird. Lhissa smiled a bit more as Crystal turned her head to affectionately nibble at the foot in her stirrup. Lhis patted the bird’s neck and then shifted, straightening her posture. “Alright. I’m ready to try again.”

Norhi nodded. “Alright. Gentle circles. Walking first.”

Lhis took one more breath and gently bumped the stirrups to Crystal’s side. Taking the cue, Crystal started walking around the little circular pen.

Norhi turned with the lead, but let Lhissa control things for the moment. “Very good, sis. Just like that. Keep breathing with the motions.”

After a bit more of this, Norhi smiled and said. “Alright. You can stop. Let’s take a break. Else you’ll be too saddle sore to move later.”

Lhis pulled Crystal’s reins to stop her, sighing as the larger bird obeyed easily. One more gentle tug and Crystal knelt, allowing the shorter girl to dismount without dropping too far to the ground. Then, like Norhi had showed her earlier, she pulled out a krakka root and gave it to the chocobo. She patted Crystal’s neck. “Thank you for being so patient with me, Crystal.”

The chocobo gladly ate the root and then butted her head against Lhissa’s shoulder. Norhi came over and hugged her sister. “Very good. Let’s go get Crystal settled back in the stable.”

Lhissa nodded and gently tugged the reins again, prompting Crystal to stand. “How is Crystal anyway? She’s so calm.”

Norhi hummed. “Well, according the papers we got when Dad bought her, I’d say she’s about fourteen or fifteen now.”

Lhissa frowned. “Isn’t that pretty old for a chocobo?”

Norhi shrugged. “Not really. Middle aged. Like Dad or Mama. Though, she’ll be an elder bird by the time you’re grown.”

Lhissa hummed a bit. “Are there any stories about chocobos?”

Norhi nodded. “Oh, lots. Want to hear the one about the Dowager Chocobo?”

Lhissa nodded. “Yes, please!”

It is said, in the deep recesses of the forest, there is a place where wild chocobos go, when they reach their golden years. The path is most toilsome and difficult for spoken feet. It’s rare that anyone but a chocobo ever finds it. But it is also said, that those spoken who do, may learn a valuable secret. A secret that is rumored to bring healing to even the dying.

There was a young healer, whose clan had become very sick. A plague of sorts seemed to have infected her tribe. The healer had tried everything she knew, and everything the other tribes could advise her to do.

After consulting with the last tribe she could find, she started riding her chocobo back to her tribe. She began to cry. For the last matriarch had nothing to give, except her profound apologies. Finally, after she was cried out, she looked up and realized she didn’t recognize where she was. Her chocobo had strayed off the path.

The healer tried to turn her bird the other way, tried to go back. But the chocobo resisted, flapping her wings and crying out with great kwehs and warks. The healer looked back and began to fear there was a predator behind them. So, she let the chocobo have her head.

The bird picked up the pace and trotted along strange and unfamiliar paths, going through creeks and fallen tree tunnels. After many bells, the healer saw other chocobos join their path, running past them and around them. Her chocobo greeted them with a merry call and they answered just as gaily.

The healer watched all this in awe, as her chocobo led her into a village of nests and nooks, curved trees and huge gysahl plants. The chocobo walked calmly through the odd chocobo town, soon stopping in front of the biggest of nests. In that nest, sat a big round chocobo, with a fluffy crest of white feathers that looked like a crown, upon her head. She was a true nonagenarian of a bird, ancient and refined.

The healer thought this chocobo must be a queen, the mythical dowager chocobo. She slid out of her saddle and bowed to the bird.

The matriarch cooed softly and said, “Welcome tiny healer. I am glad you came, when your friend chose to bring you.”

The healer looked up in surprise and then nodded. She’d never heard a chocobo speak before. “Thank you for having me… Madam? I.. I wasn’t sure if she could smell a wolf or an ochu or such. So, I chose to trust her sense of the forest more than mine. She has often saved our tribe from danger before.”

The dowager nodded gently. “It is wise of you to listen to your friends. And I am told you have done much listening, of late. Looking for answers to a great sickness.”

The healer became sad again, her ears wilting and her tail drooping. “Yes, Madam. My tribe have a dry cough, and rattling lungs. Great fever and constant sweating. Everything I have tried has not worked.”

The dowager sighed slowly, a sad singsong kweh. “Your friend tells me that your tribe treats her and her sisters very well. And that she is sad that they are all ill. And that she is even more sad that you mourn them already.”

The healer looked up at her chocobo and put a hand on her feathered neck. “She is my very good friend. And I am very glad she’s been with me through all this.”

The dowager seemed very pleased by all this. She nodded and then turned and plucked one of her own feathers. And she plucked flowers from a nearby gysahl bush. She gave them to the healer, saying, “Burn this with lavender and patchouli, like an incense. Wave the smoke to your ill and it will ease their pain. Then, give them oil drops made from petals of our gysahl bushes. These drops will ease their cough and lower their fevers. And in time, they will recover.”

The young healer accepted the feather and flowers with no small amount of wonder. “I thank you from the depths of my heart for this, Madam. But why are you helping me?”

The dowager was quiet for a long moment, before answer, “Because your friend asked it of me. She and her sisters love you and your tribe. They would be distraught to lose you all. All I ask, is that you continue to show them such kindness.”

The healer nodded quickly. “I swear that I will!”

She bowed one more time and got back in her chocobo’s saddle. And they returned to the tribe. She made the feather incense and eased their pain. She then made the oil drops and gave them to her tribe.

Soon the tribe was healing and returning to normal. The healer told them of her journey. Of the dowager’s kind gift. Of their chocobo’s love for them. The tribe was amazed and honored their chocobos, seeking to treat them more like true members of the tribe, than unknowing pack animals.

And though their huntresses searched and searched, they could never again find the path to the dowager’s village. But, when their birds began to grow old, they released them to go to the village and join the other wild chocobos. Each season after a bird was released, a young chocobo would show up and join their tribe’s flock. And so it became their tradition, to honor their chocobos so. And the strange illness never set upon them again.

#FFxivWrite2020 #FFxivWrite #Miqo'te Tales

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razieltwelve · 4 years

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Competition (Final Effect)

When Her Imperial Majesty Averia VII finally married, the empire rejoiced. When she gave birth, however, the empire plotted.

X X X

“What are you doing here?” The Dia-Farron snarled.

The seer huffed. “What does it look like? I’m bringing a present for the new crown princess. We’ve foreseen great things in her future.”

“Oh, be quiet.” The Dia-Farron rolled her eyes. “You have not. You’re just here to curry favour with the empress and get your hooks into her successor. You lot are still bitter that the empress did an apprenticeship with us instead of you.”

The seer scowled. Given that he resembled his ancestor, Caius Ballad, quite closely, it was a fearsome expression. “You only got that apprenticeship because you sabotaged our offer!”

“What are you talking about? Maybe that bridge just blew up on its own, thereby preventing your team from arriving on time to make its pitch.” The Dia-Farron smirked. “And aren’t you all supposed to have precognition? Why didn’t you see that one coming then?”

“We all know there are a few of you with Semblances that obscure precognition, or did you think we missed the fact that you had a bearer of Lucky Fox on the planet at the time. What was she doing, taking a holiday?”

“You can’t prove a damn thing!”

“And we’re not going to make the same mistakes this time!”

The Dia-Farron glared. “Professor Cuddleburg can trump any present you come up with. He is the cutest and cuddliest hamster in the galaxy. In fact, he’s in the top five cutest and cuddliest hamsters of all time. There’s no way the crown princess won’t love to have him around, which means we’ve basically got one foot in the door already. If he has to stay around, it’s only natural for the empress to hire him and one of us as the crown princess’s tutors.”

“We’ve got an in with the hedgehog,” the seer replied. “Lord Hedgeborough is well aware of your scheming. He has no intention of letting you have everything your own way, and he has the ear of the empress herself.”

“Hmph.” The Dia-Farron brandished Professor Cuddleburg at the seer. “You really think that will matter in the face of such an adorable hamster? Besides, it’s not like the empress listens to everything he says. The bearer of Ragnarok is basically one of us. She’ll put in a good word, I’m sure.”

“And we’ve already approached the bearer of Saviour.” The seer smirked. “She, at least, can be relied upon to do what is best for the empire and not be swayed by an adorable hamster.”

“I think you underestimate the power of our hamsters,” the Dia-Farron countered. In her hand, Professor Cuddleburg cackled menacingly. “It wasn’t that long ago that there was a Dia-Farron on the throne. The empress might not act much like one of us, but the proud blood of a Dia-Farron still flows through her veins. She’ll make the right choice.”

“We’ll see.” The seer pointed at his eyes. “And when it comes to seeing nobody sees better than us.” He patted his pocket. “I even have a secret weapon.”

“A secret weapon? Unless it’s a victory beam, I don’t think you’ve got a chance.”

X X X

Her Imperial Majesty Averia VII sighed as the representatives from the Dia-Farron and the seers practically tripped over each other in their bids to reach her and her daughter first. In the end, it was the seer who succeeded after dodging a net and throwing a chair.

“Your Imperial Majesty,” the seer announced, still catching his breath. “It is an honour to be invited to meet the crown princess.”

Behind Averia, Claire and Jahne weren’t even trying to conceal their laughter as the Dia-Farron got back to her feet and considered firing her net gun again before thinking better of it. There was too much of a risk of hitting the empress and her daughter.

“I am always pleased to welcome a representative of the seers,” Averia replied. “How fares the House of Ballad.”

“We fare well,” the seer replied before he offered a wrapped box. “A gift for the crown princess, Your Imperial Majesty.”

“Thank you.” Averia nodded at Jahne to open it. In her arms, Thyra’s gaze was drawn to the astoundingly adorable hamster that the Dia-Farron was holding up like some kind of talisman. Following the baby’s gaze, the seer’s eyes widened, and he not so subtly stepped to the side to block the baby’s view before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small chocobo chick.

What caught Averia’s eye was the chick’s coloration. It was a striking purple that matched the hair colour of Caius Ballad. Thyra’s gaze immediately snapped to the chocobo, which cheeped softly and stared back at the baby.

“That is an unusual chocobo,” Averia said. “I can’t say I’ve seen many purple chocobos in my time, and he is exceptionally purple.”

“Ah, yes. Purple chocobos are exceedingly rare, but the reason this particular fellow is an even more vivid shade of purple than most of his kind is because he was hatched on a world we recently discovered had been badly contaminated by gravity Dust following a volcanic eruption. As a result, his feathers are a more intense purple, and he appears to have developed some control over gravity in addition to the usual Synergist abilities purple choocbos usually have.”

“Fascinating.” Averia glanced to the side as Jahne opened the gift. Her lips twitched. It was a tiny outfit in the authentic style of the Nsu Clan. “An adorable outfit.”

“We thought it appropriate since you are also the Chieftain of all the Clans, and we hope for young Thyra to become a farsighted and wise ruler whose reign shall be remembered long into the future.”

Averia’s lips twitched. She had a feeling it was more like he and the rest of his clan wanted Thyra to be more favourably disposed toward them.

“We do, of course, have other gifts,” the seer continued smoothly. “But we shall present them during the upcoming naming ceremony, in accordance with tradition.”

“Of course.” Averia nodded. In her arms, Thyra shifted restlessly and reached for the chocobo chick. Little wisps of frost formed, a testament to her heritage. “I look forward to it.” She glanced past him. “Perhaps you should allow the Dia-Farron representative to present her gift. She seems to be having a conniption.”

X X X

“That clever bastard,” the Dia-Farron muttered. “I definitely didn’t expect him to have a purple chocobo chick that’s even more purple than normal.” She smirked. “But if he thinks we’re beaten, he’s got another thing coming, right, Professor Cuddleburg?”

The hamster took a moment to unleash the full power of his cuteness and then nodded. They had a battle to win.

X X X

The birth of a crown princess is always cause for celebration in the empire. However, it also provides unique opportunities for the various factions within the empire itself. These factions will spare no expense in their pursuit of favour and influence with the new royal, turning the traditional naming ceremony into something close to a pitched battle.

X X X

Author’s Notes

Never count out the Dia-Farron. The seers might have the upper hand for now, but they’ve still got a few cards to play. Plus, they’ve got an important advantage. When it comes to science and technology, nobody is better than they are. And if the princess wants to be the best, she’d have to learn from the best, right?

Incidentally, the Imperial hedgehogs are their own faction. However, they are less concerned with influencing the crown princess directly than they are with keeping any potential bad influences away. This policy became standard after the many clashes between Vanille I’s hedgehog and hamster. Knowing how close Averia VII is to Lord Hedgeborough, the seers wisely chose to seek his approval, which he granted largely to counterbalance what he knew would be powerful efforts from the Dia-Farron.

If you’re interested in my thoughts on writing and other topics, you can find those here.

I also write original fiction, which you can find on Amazon here. I’ve recently released two stories, Attempted Adventuring and Surviving Quarantine, as well as two audiobooks, Two Necromancers, a Bureaucrat, and an Army of Golems and Two Necromancers, a Dragon, and a Vampire. If you like humour, action, and adventure, be sure to check them out.

#final effect #fanfiction #averia vii

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marjiandco · 4 years

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Prompt #30: Splinter

warnings: bad fathers, dark conversations. A continuation of prompt #29

Where...

Lights were strewn about in no discernible reason, blotting in and out of his consciousness. He was vaguely aware he was moving, as shadowy blobs pass by. Some even talked.

Where am I?

His thoughts were stronger now, if still muddled. He blinked, his lids heavy as he stared down. His wrists were bound in front of him, they felt rough and sticky. He slammed his head back harder than he meant, the weight of it too much as his hair covered his eyes. There was cloth around his dry mouth but he didn't seem to care too much, only that it was there. Feeling slipped away from him and he closed his eyes.

When he awoke this time it was with a sharp clarity. He squinted his eyes as if the raging headache would disappear if he squashed his face enough. The lights he saw before was sunlight passing through trees, the 'talking' the rumble of the chocobo carriage over a rocky dirt road. He twisted around and groaned. His stomach was sore but he still can't remember from what.

“So you're awake then? That was fast.”

Raiku tilted his head back so far it hit the floor, his heart pounding hard against his chest. Over the lip of the carriage he could see pale blonde hair and long pointed miqo'te ears.

“Prul,” he said, his voice muffled.

The man driving shrugged his shoulders and the sounds of indignant chocobo chatter announced the stop of the carriage. Prul's head disappears and the crunch of gravel underfoot went around the carriage. Raiku rolled over onto his stomach and got onto his knees, glancing wildly around. Judging from the trees he's somewhere in the black shroud. That's good, he might be familiar with the area. He stumbled to his feet and took a few short steps towards the edge of the carriage, determined to roll himself over the opposite end of the footsteps. He shrugged a leg over, putting his weight on his bound wrists to pull his other leg over.

“Oh no you don't”

Prul grabbed the collar of Raiku's shirt and yanked him back onto the floor, rolling him over onto his back and pressed a foot down on Raiku's stomach to hold him still. Raiku wriggled beneath him, grabbing Prul's ankle in both hands but quickly released him when a sharp dagger was pointed between his eyes.

“I know how fast you little bastards can be, deceptively fast.”

Prul moved the dagger to under Raiku's throat, who leaned back into the floor as if he could somehow disappear beneath it. Raiku's nostrils flared as he tried to get enough air for his beating heart. He layed his arms across his chest and neck protectively. When Prul seemed satisfied enough, he put the dagger back into his boot.

What do you want Raiku said, again his words muffled but his captor seemed to get the general idea.

Prul wrapped his fingers in Raiku's hair, his golden eyes staring at it in interest as he started to stroke through it.

“You know I've always wondered what your hair would feel like. It's so different from hers; maybe a little bit better. It's so soft. Like feathers on a bird.”

Goosebumps raced across Raiku's body everytime Prul's fingers touched his scalp. No wonder Marji acted the way she did around him.

Don't touch me you fucking creep! Raiku shouted as best he could. Prul gave him a smile that didn't reach his eyes and as Raiku's heart dropped into his stomach Prul grabbed his hair in a hard grasp, slowly lifting him up towards Prul's face while his foot still held him down at the middle.

“I'm not going to eat you; I was just curious.” Prul turned his head hard to the side and kissed him on his exposed neck, his fangs dragging momentarily against his skin. He laughed to himself as Raiku stretched his arms awkwardly to try and push him away with his bound hands.

Revulsion and anger glitttered Raiku's eyes with hot tears and he blinked furiously to hide it.

“Like I said, I'm not going to eat you. You're father would he'd pay me less if you're harmed.”

Raiku's rapid breathing stopped for a moment. Dad?

“And don't worry kid, I'll mend that little flower blooming on your stomach before we get there.”

Huh?

Prul moved his foot and grabbed both of Raiku's wrists in one hand and pushed it to the side and lifted his shirt. Raiku shuddered at the sight of a deeply purple and blue mark covering his right side. Prul let go of his shirt as he moved around to pick Raiku up by the armpits and dragged him back towards the middle of the carriage.

“You might be a liitttle allergic to sleeping spells.” Prul brushed his fingers over Raiku's side who, unable to do much else, sucked his stomach in. “Nothing a little healing wouldn't fix, but, we'll have to do it again.” He pursed his lips in mock sympathy.

He moved away from Raiku, pulling out a small staff from behind him as Raiku aimed a kick at the man. He flailed about as a burst of pink clouded over his chest and he screeched at the sudden burning sensation before quickly blacking out.

The next time Raiku awoke it was in a familiar sight. A large room with a four poster bed and posters littering the wall greeted him. Faces of gladiators with snarling mouths, an adventurers in need advertisements, and even a young faces Marji, fresh after her battle with ifrit in black and white. A window was open with a warm breeze lifting thin white curtains. soft sheets enveloped him beneath an expensive comforter. He lifted himself onto his elbows, sinking into the pillow beneath him. He was back in his parent's house, inside of his room.

He moved the blankets off of him, twisting his mouth when he saw he wasn't in his original clothes before pulling up his shirt. The bastard was right; there were no markings on him, just his own freckled skin. He lowered his shirt and touched his neck where Prul had kissed him. He felt so humiliated, unable to do anything to stop him. He doesn't even remember how he was captured but it must have been so quick, so easy. He'll keep his guard up next time. Be more wary of the darker corners of the world.

He got out of his old bed, not bothering to put things back and went over to his walnut wooden drawers, complete with golden handles for each opening. He opened them and laughed to himself; there's still his old clothes in there, neatly pressed as if they'd washed them yesterday. He picked out a pair of brown pants and a yellow top, and in another his old school shoes, shining so brightly he wondered if he'd go blind. He quickly changed and went over to the window, but his escape won't be so easy a second time; they cut down the tree that was next to his room, rather roughly by the look of it.

There was a soft knock at his door followed by it opening in a smooth motion. Raiku stiffened at the sight of an unfamiliar face. That's no the usual manservant who'd wake him.

“Sir, your father requests you meet him downstairs when it conveniences you.” He wasn't looking at Raiku in the eyes as he bowed.

“I'll come now.” Raiku said. Might as well get this over with, and ask him some, strongly, why in the seven hells he'd hire a man like Prul.

The interior of his parents mansion was as he remembered: gaudy and large. The height of the rooms are big enough to make a Roegadyn feel comfortable let alone a lalafellin family. Though they were fairly tall for their race it felt ridiculous to him to have such vaunted ceilings with their races size fixings. He always thought it made them look like kids playing house rather than the grandness his parents desired. Portraits lined the upstairs hallway with faces of his extended family. Well, his father's side mostly; there weren't many portraits done of his mother's side. At the end near the staircase had his face in it. Even the painter couldn't hide how miserable he looked, at least, that's how Raiku could see it. He wasn't smiling, and his eyes were devoid of warmth, looking off to the left as if begging to be anywhere but stuck in time.

You're out now. He told himself in his head as he descended the stairs with the manservant.

Down in the parlor the floors were a gleaming marble, scrubbed smooth of any embellishments. The couches and seats seemed tiny in comparison to how tall the room felt, a suffocating amount of decorations littering the room to fill the void. Everything shiny, everything untouched except by time. Nearby one of the armchairs was his father, standing as he always did when he was angry: with a cup of tea and his glasses low on his nose. Raiku rolled his eyes; his father never changes, always hiding his feelings by focusing on something else. The only thing he could tell was different is there was more salt than pepper in his charcoal hair, his mustache bushier than Raiku remembers.

“Hey dad.” Raiku said.

“Sit.” his father responded.

“Yes sir.” Raiku maliciously complied, flopping onto one of the couches, one leg dangling down the edge and the other wrapped around the top. He scrapped his shoes across the cushions as he leaned back against the armrest. Raiku smiled, hoping to goad his father but Raido Yomundo made no indication of his annoyance.

“You have-”

“Why” Raiku said loudly, drowning out his father. “on this entire continent, no this entire planet, did you pick that guy to pick me up?”

His father flicked his eyes at him before turning around to look out an overlarge window, to the golden streets of Ul'dah.

“He came highly recommended, and he was the better option of the rough bounty hunters that bothered our servants for work.” He looked Raiku up and down, his disdain palpable enough that Raiku righted himself on the couch. “I do not see anything amiss with you.”

Raiku fiddled with his hands, not entirely unscathed from his encounter. He knew better than to argue about results with his father.

“He did such a fine job I'll continue to utilize his services, for the time being.”

Raiku's head snapped up as he glared at the man. “You can't be fucking serious.”

“Raiku Honaku you know better than to speak that way to me.” His father started to yell but shut his jaw quickly, taking a moment to collect himself. “I'm...sorry for my outburst. I'm employing him until we can come to some sort of agreement.”

Raiku rolled his eyes and laughed bitterly. “Ah, so you're keeping me prisoner until I turn into a good little worker bee again, is that it?”

“Raiku Honaku-”

“Raiku. I just go by my first half now dad.” He spit.

“You can renounce your true name but that won't stop you being a part of our family. I'm not sure who put these ideas in your head but we're not bad people. We want your company again son. We worry about the dangers you're being put into. Since you ran off after that girl we've heard nothing from you.”

“I ran off to become my own man, she was just the catalyst.”

“Son, I know you.”

Raiku scoffs but his father pretends not to hear.

“You were always a smart boy, sensitive to the needs of others. We heard how kind you were with the servants, and in school you were praised by your tutors, when you did your work. Despite this, you are susceptible to influences, as we all are. Maybe more so. The person I can see now, I'm sorry to say, is the result of bad characters. You started acting out ever since you started reading the papers on this girls exploits, and do you really know her? She has no past, no relations or connections anywhere. How can a person like that hope to have a future, least of all with you?”

Raiku narrowed his eyes and stood up. “Maybe I should just take my chances with the psychopath you hired. Anything is better than to sit here and listen to you acting like you know me.”

“Raiku Honaku I'm not trying to pick a fight with you.”

“Oh really? Belittling me isn't starting a fight? Would you like me to kiss your boots instead?”

His father put his tea cup down onto a silver table tray.

“Listen to me, I do not guarantee you will come out unharmed with your next interaction with my hire.” his father said darkly.

Raiku looked between his fathers eyes, but there was no indication of a bluff. He took a step back. “Does mom know about this?”

“As your father I don't want to see you get hurt,” Raido Yomundo said, ignoring the question “but unruly children tend to need a firmer hand to get them to sit still.” He waited to see if Raiku would interrupt him again. “Now, again, I apologize for being firm with you. Whether or not your actions were your own until this point is irrelevant. What will happen from this day forward is based on your choices.

“My hire will watch the estate, checking to make sure you haven't attempted an escape during negotiations. This is only a temporary measure; I am not keeping you here against your will but to hear your families concerns. No one else knows I've tracked you down, and tonight we will hold a party for your return. This is only to have us all be able to chat together, without hard conversations. Something I'm sure your mother would like very much. Afterwords, you and I will talk about your actions in depth, and see how we can move forward hand in hand. Raiku Honaku I don't want to lose you as a son. Even I can come to terms with some of your lifestyle I only want a few things any father would want. So, what do you say?”

Raiku stared at his father with new eyes. The man before him, who he used to believe was foolish and neglectful was a shrewd little snake. His skin crawled as the image of a cage snapped shut around him, and like a wild animal Raiku wondered if he should gnaw through his own arm to escape. He wanted to. He wished he could run as fast as he could, to dive out of the room and fling open the front gates and disappear into the crowd. The thought of running into Prul again, failing and still having to be in this prison with his father made his legs wobble. He shook his fathers hand before retiring back to his room. He'll stay for the circus, to agree to whatever he needs to get out of this house.

After that? He'll never look back. No matter what his estranged father said, he's permanently splintered their bond.

#ffxivwrite2020 #raiku #tw neglect #tw captivity #so #prul is just sort of a nebulous bad guy in the marji raiku lore #anyways this might not be to alot of peoples tastes #because angst #kinda lots of angst #okay all of it #sweats #dont worry hes no contact with his family now!#yaaayyyyyy

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miss-tc-nova · 4 years

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The Last of The Real Ones - Noel Kreiss x Fem!Reader Pt 9 - Finale

I had this whole series on hand for quite a while now, not sure if I wanted to post it or not, but here it is, obviously. I also had considered an alternate end to this, but I feel like this one suits the series better. Plus I never finished that alternate end.

Also, tagging this thing is a pain because of xiii vs 13 and 13-2 and ugh. So many different ways and I just wanted Noel fans to be able to find it!

Anyway, thanks for reading.

~~~~~

Part 9: That Ultra Kind of Love

The sunshine warms my face and I can hear the singing birds in the distance, or rather, I can hear the hungry chocobo. As I approach the corral, I can see them all crowding the gate like a feathery rainbow.

“Yeah I’m workin’ on it!” I shout. “I gotta check on Mama first!”

They continue cawing at me as I head for the barn. There’s only two other chocobo in here. The black one leans over his gate to nip at my hair.

“Ow! Okay! Go help yourself!”

Once his gate is open, he trots to the feed for breakfast. I fill a large bowl with the mix of feed and open the second stable. The golden-colored female huddled in her nest greets me with a soft caw.

“Morning Mama. How are the chicks?” Her feathers ruffle and three adorable little birds pop their heads up. “Oh they hatched!” Mama eats while I coo over the newborns until another squawk interrupts me. He ruffles his feather, satisfied with his breakfast. “Okay, I’m coming.”

I leave the mother in peace and fill the wagon with feed. Once it’s filled, I hitch it to my partner and he pulls it out to the corral for me. Breakfast is served; the peace is restored to my little farm. However, I’m running low on food for the people, i.e. me. It’s time for my weekly trip into town.

The town is calm and people are happily going about their business. I get plenty of greetings and waves, known to most of the townspeople for my chocobo farm. Outside the grocers, I clip the bird to a post.

He caws. “No you can’t go in with me.” I get another one. “Yeah, and I got in trouble last time.” That ruffles his feathers. “Look, you behave and wait here and we’ll discuss Sylkis greens later. Got it?” That appears to appease him.

“Mornin’,” the owner calls.

“Morning. How’ve you been?”

“Not bad. But I had a strange gentleman come lookin’ for you the other day.”

I pause my search of his apples. “What?”

“Yeah. Brown hair, blue eyes, looked like he came from some tribe. Told ‘im you came into town every Wednesday.”

“Huh. Must be looking for a chocobo.”

“I don’t know, but listen, you can hide out in the back if you want.”

I shake my head with a smile. “No, thank you though. Not like anyone’s gonna mess with me with that black bird following me everywhere.”

“No kiddin’. Thank you for not bringin’ ‘im in this time,” he guffaws.

A hand meets my face. “Again, I’m so sorry about that.”

Picking out my groceries, I can’t help sifting through faces of people I’ve met but no one comes to mind. It’s just as I finish paying for my groceries that I hear a ‘Kweh!’ outside. Bursting out of the little store, I find a surprise. My steed busy socializing with a stranger, grooming his hair and nuzzling up to him. There’s no doubt this is the stranger I was just warned about.

The man stops laughing when he spots me and there’s a weird vice in my chest when those clear blue eyes lock on me.

“I found you…”

The vice grows stronger. I feel like I should know that voice, like I should know him, but I don’t. Something about him screams familiarity and I have to consciously think about not tackling this stranger in a hug. I push it all to the back of my mind.

“I’m sorry, what?” He quickly becomes flustered. “I heard you were looking for me.”

“Uh, yes! I...” He takes a deep breath. “My friend Serah told me about you. You raise chocobos right?”

That doesn’t seem like what he wanted to say. “Oh, you know Serah? I haven’t seen her in a while. How is she?”

He smiles. “She’s doing great. Still working on her degree.”

“Good.” I wave to the black chocobo. “So I see you already met my partner. You interested in chocobos?” I ask, loading my groceries into the saddle.

“Yeah. It’s been a long time since I rode one, but I was thinking about getting back in the saddle.” He slaps a hand against the back of his neck, looking a bit antsy. “Um, are you…busy right now? There’s a shop just down the road. We could get something to eat.”

Did he just ask me on a date? I find myself incredibly drawn to him. “Well I was shopping for food for the week, but I guess it can wait.”

A grin blossoms across his face and I feel the blood rush into my ears. “Great!” He offers a hand. “I’m Noel by the way.”

I shake his hand, unable to fight my own smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”

#noel kreiss #noel kreiss x reader #lightning returns #lightning returns final fantasy 13 #lightning returns final fantasy xiii #ff noel #ff noel kreiss #ffxiii noel #ff13 noel #ff13 noel kreiss #ffxiii noel kreiss #ffxiii-2 #ff13-2 #ff13-2 noel #ffxiii-2 noel #fem!reader

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writteninsunshine · 4 years

Text

Let Your Colors Fill My World 002/003 - Axel/Zexion - SFW

Chapter: 2/3

Word Count: 3000

Pairings: Axel/Zexion

Characters: Axel, Zexion, Vexen, Xigbar

Warnings: Omegaverse, ABO Dynamics, Omegaphobic Stuff, Not Consecutive Order, 11 Is out of order for the rest of the one-shots, Romance

Chapter Summary: 11-20 of the 30 Kisses Meme. More shenanigans at the college, plus the first time Axel actually wanted to show Zexion his feelings.

AN: So, 11 goes before every other drabble in this fic, then everything else follows after 10. At any rate, I’m sorry it took me so long to update this. I’m actually really happy to get it done, I think it’s a lot of fun. People on my KH twitter H3artB3atsx got to see some previews for this, and I post fic previews there as well as headcanons on occasion. If you’d like to give me a follow, feel free!

Let Your Colors Fill My World Chapter One

Kingdom Hearts Fanfic Masterlist

Chapter Two: You Chase The Gray Away

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

(11. Gardenia)

“Howdy, neighbor.” Axel’s head popped up over the fence to look at Zexion, resting his chin on his arms. He must have climbed the tree in his backyard, a seven-foot fence was far too high for any normal seventeen-year-old to lean on.

“Uh… Hi?” Zexion asked more than greeted, picking some strawberries from the plants that Vexen (with Marluxia’s help) grew in the backyard. “What are you up to?”

“Oh, nothing.” Axel chuckled a little, finally climbing the fence and dropping down into Zexion’s yard. He presented the other with a pretty white flower with a grin on his face.

“What’s this?” Zexion asked, standing fully and dusting off his knees, shyly stepping over and accepting the flower.

“Marluxia’s growing gardenias, and he told me what they mean.” Axel grinned at the fourteen-year-old, reaching forward to brush some of his hair out of his face. “Do you know?”

“Of course, I do. Gardenias mean secret or untold love,” Then, his cobalt eyes went wide and he stared up at the elder teen for a second. The seventeen-year-old nodded, smiling down at him gentler, “Are you-- R-really?”

“Yeah, really.” He offered, cupping the other’s cheek, “What do you think?”

The Omega nodded slowly, unable to speak for a second as he considered the flower in his hands. His lips parted and he finally just leaned up on his tiptoes, puckering his lips and closing his eyes. Axel leaned down, kissing him gently, smiling against his lips.

“I accept.” Zexion added softly when they broke apart, “I… I’ve liked you for a while.” He smelled so good, Axel was surprised that the other was so ready to be with him if he were honest. It wasn’t like he’d expected to be accepted just like that. Zexion was refined, even for his young age, and Axel was kind of a mess. Maybe not as much of a mess as Reno but that was like being the tallest dwarf.

“Good.” He replied, kissing him again softly before he paled, hearing the back door open.

“Zexion, where are you? You should have picked the strawberries by now.” Vexen called, and Axel ducked behind some bushes, hoping his hair wasn’t poking out of the top. He flattened out on his stomach to avoid being seen..

“I’m on my way, Vexen,” Zexion called to his father, turning on his heels. “Thank you,” He added in a whisper in Axel’s general direction, “I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, for sure.” Axel watched Zexion heading into the house, hating to see him go. Still, he’d gotten more than he thought he would out of their exchange. His lips still tingled and he smelled richly of cinnamon and smoke as he crawled through the hole in the back of the fence back to his own yard. Nevermind the strawberries in his hand, one popped past his lips as he entered the back door into the house.

(12. In A Good Mood)

Purring happily as he worked on his homework, curled up in his nest of blankets and pillows with Axel, Zexion closed his eyes. It was so nice, to be honest, to have Axel here while he worked, he appreciated the warmth wafting off the elder man.

“You sure seem happy,” Axel observed, his eyes closed as he absently pet over the other’s belly, humming to himself. His warm fingers found the hem of Zexion’s shirt and slipped underneath, and the blue-haired teen simply squirmed for him to get comfortable again.

“I’m in a good mood,” Zexion responded, tilting his head and turning enough to kiss the other’s lips softly. “You’re warm, I’m doing my homework, and everything feels… Right. I like this.”

“Yeah, it does,” Axel murmured, chasing the other’s lips gently and working his mouth against the other’s with a soft, happy purr. “You always feel good, even if you’re working.”

“You’re the best.” Zexion replied softly, kissing him one last time, “If not distracting.”

“Sometimes distracting you is fun,” Axel laughed, shaking his head, red spikes cascading over his shoulders. “I can’t help it.”

“I enjoy it, at least.” Zexion smiled at him, leaning into him a little more as he closed his eyes again, “I like cuddling with you, doing my homework. Or, really, doing anything... I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me, too.”

(13. Excessive Chain)

“If you’re trying to impress me, it isn’t working.” Oh, it was working, alright. Axel was so good at this game, probably because he hung out with Demyx so much. His combo chain on Dance Dance Revolution was getting ridiculous, and Zexion was going to swoon, as much as he didn’t want to admit to it.

Axel continued to follow the steps, stomping here and there before taking a jump like a champ. Nevermind the song he was playing was HONEY♂PUNCH by Riyu Kosaka, and it looked pretty hard on Expert mode. Zexion was entranced, watching his feet move to the beat of the song. The 314 chained streak was really wearing on Zexion’s resolve not to kiss him when he was done.

With a final streak of 335, a AA score, Axel was panting and dripping with sweat. He wiped at his face with his arm, which did nothing, and turned to Zexion.

“You want to try?” He asked, breathless.

“I… No, not really. That looks… Difficult.” Zexion shook his head, hopping off the bed to cross the room to his boyfriend. “I think I’d rather congratulate you for your effort, if I may.”

“Of course, dude.” Axel grinned, bending down to plant a sloppy, wet kiss on his lover’s lips. “I always like your rewards.”

“Of course you do,” Zexion smirked, making a show of wiping his face. “You’re so wet.

“You should try the game, Zex.” Axel offered sweetly, “I can put the difficulty level down for you and put on an easy song.”

“I… Okay... I suppose I can give it a shot.” But he’d have to change out of his jeans, probably. Even Axel was wearing basketball shorts right now. Walking to his dresser, he pulled out a pair of short stretchy shorts, dropping his pants and slipping into them.

“You’re gonna want socks, too, so you don’t slip,” Axel told him, eyes glued to his rump as Zexion bent over. With a pair of Digimon ankle socks on his feet, Zexion bit his lip as he scooted across the floor to the dance pad. Axel had already set up Faster Kill Pussycat on beginner mode, and Zexion was ready to make a fool of himself.

The song was slow, and the movements something he could keep up with. After a few notes, he almost thought he could handle something more intensive because after getting the hang of it, the slow drag of each guide was getting to him. Thankfully, he managed to get through the song, though he didn’t have a very good streak. He managed with a C, which wasn’t something he was used to.

“I… I suck at this.” Zexion frowned as Axel wrapped his arms around him from behind, kissing his ear.

“You could practice? Get better. I know you can do it, babe.” Axel nuzzled his neck and Zexion nodded. “Plus, it could be that beginner mode is too slow. I know Reno can’t play it, but he can do the next one.”

“I’m going to get better.” Because he wanted to impress Axel, too. “...Should I try the next level up?”

“I’d love to see you try.” Axel purred in his ear, kissing along the nape of his neck.

“Okay, okay, I will--” If he could keep his hands to himself.

(14. Radio-Cassette Player)

“Where did you even find this?” Zexion asked, head tilting to the side as he watched Axel grinning with his prize. The redhead just beamed at him and plugged it in, both teens wincing as it immediately spit harsh static into the room. Clapping his hands over his ears, the blue-haired man turned away, flopping dramatically onto his bed and shaking his head. “Turn it off! That’s awful!”

Pushing the power button, Axel laughed as he shook out his mane of hair, grinning again when Zexion peered over with one eye uncovered from his fancy Chocobo down feather comforter.

“I found it in my dad’s attic. We were cleaning it and he said I could keep it. I also found some other things.” Crossing the dorm room to his bag, he brought it over to the bed and dropped it with a loud clack of plastic.

“What is it?”

“Cassettes,” Axel stated proudly, puffed up as he started to go through the bag, digging out the old music and seeking something they both might like.

Reaching over to pluck Bad Company by Bad Company from the pile, Zexion waved it in the air, holding it with his thumb and forefinger, upright.

“This is a serious gem. Even Vexen likes this.” Though the blond would never admit that.

“Do you like it?” Axel asked, raising a brow as he collected it from the other’s fingers, looking over the tracklist on the back.

“Yes, it’s rather good.” Smiling sweetly, Zexion lounged back on his bed, pulling the bag of cassettes closer as he began to investigate what else Xigbar had had before these went defunct. Striding to the cassette player, Axel removed the tape from the box and set it to play.

Well I take whatever I want

And baby I want you

You give me something I need

Now tell me I got something for you

Crawling back into bed with Zexion, Axel reached over to pull his chin up, kissing him softly as the song continued to play.

“It’s a good song,” Zexion murmured against his lips.

“It is.” Chuckling, Axel nuzzled their noses together, “Works for us.”

Zexion considered that for a moment before nodding.

“It does.”

(15. Perfect Blue)

Without a doubt, Zexion was always beautiful. When he slept, when he ate, whenever he did anything at all, Axel was in awe of him. Even now, when he was blatantly ignoring the redhead, glaring at his textbook and muttering under his breath, Axe could have stared for hours.

Some idiot Alpha had told Zexion that he was too young to add to the conversation and that pretty Omegas shouldn’t ‘try so hard’. Not only had the blue-haired male stepped up to the plate to prove his age didn’t mean anything, but he had every intention of proving the Omegaphobic piece of shit wrong and wiping the floor with him.

Determination creased his brow as he took a few more notes, and Axel couldn’t help but swoon. Zexion was perfect, from the harsh frown on his lips to the hardness of those engaging blue eyes. There wasn’t an Omega alive that could do the same things that Zexion could. Hell, there might not have been an Alpha alive that could rival him, either, as much as that thought pissed Vexen off to no end.

Leaning over in their nest, Axel kissed his neck, cheek, and over to his lips, all while the younger Omega growled.

“What are you doing?” His tone told Axel it was best not to beat around the bush on this.

“You’re perfect. My perfect blue.” Axel murmured, and Zexion snorted.

“I’m telling Saïx.”

“Don’t you dare.” Axel frowned, “What, I’m not allowed to think my boyfriend is perfect?”

“You are.” Zexion replied with a huff, “When he’s not busy.”

“You’re always busy.”

“And right now I’m definitely too busy.” Zexion sighed, looking over at him. “But you need my attention, don’t you?”

“You can keep studying, I just want to let you know I’m here.” Axel replied with a grin, “Plus, it’s probably time to eat soon.”

“I’ll eat with you in half an hour. Let me just… Finish this chapter.”

“Okay.” Axel laughed softly, kissing his cheek. “I’ll wait.”

(16. Invincible, Unrivaled)

Much like Axel had thought at the beginning of Zexion’s short-lived rivalry, he had come out on top. A good deal of Zexion’s research and study over the course of the last three days had proven most of the Alpha’s thesis wrong, and the blue-haired Omega couldn’t be told apart from the cat that got the cream. There was something about the way that the smaller teen preened and puffed up when he was about to prove someone wrong that made Axel skip his own class to go with his boyfriend and watch the fireworks.

“I seriously can’t believe that he was that wrong.” Axel whistled, shaking his head a little and letting his hair flow over his shoulder. Zexion purred.

“I can. He refused any Omega-lead research in hopes that he’d be right by default. Nobody should assume that they’re right by default.” Vexen had taught him that.

“Maybe you can.” Axel purred, leaning down to kiss the top of Zexion’s head.

“I would never go into something so blind as to think I was already correct unless I already knew beyond a reasonable doubt that I was,” Zexion replied, looking up to capture his lips after a moment. “If I don’t have all the facts, then I’m not about to say that I do. That’s a mistake Vexen has made, and has crucified me for making. I’d much rather learn to do better.”

“Because you’re a smart cookie.” Axel offered, and Zexion snorted, laughing after a moment.

“Because I refuse to be the one with egg on my face when I’m wrong.” He corrected with a wink.

“Because you’re smart.” Axel reiterated, “It’s uh, intelligent of you to be willing to be educated on something you don’t know for sure.”

“It is…” He smiled softly, “Thank you.” That observation earned him another kiss, and Zexion purred as they rounded a corner into the quad.

(17. kHz (kilohertz))

“That is way too loud!” Zexion called over the cassette player, and Axel just grinned at him.

“No way!” It was like being at a club, but it was just Zexion’s dorm room. The blue-haired male reached over to poke the volume button until the level was something he could stand. “Aw, c’mon, Zex…”

“No, it’s way too loud.”

“You sound like Vexen.” Axel pouted, rolling his eyes.

“Excuse me if I don’t like loud noises. Things that are too loud hurt.” The Omega responded carefully, sighing as a kiss was placed on his forehead and he was lead back over to the bed. Axel laid them down, wrapping around the other like an octopus claiming a coconut shell.

“Sorry, hot stuff.” He muttered, absently finding the other’s lips. “I won’t do it again.” Hopefully.

(18. "Say Ahh….”)

“Open your mouth.” Zexion purred, looking at his blindfolded lover like he was the one thing in his life worth praising. “Say ‘ahhh’.”

“Okay,” Axel began slowly, letting his tongue hang out of his mouth as he kept his eyes shut, awaiting whatever was coming his way. A strawberry, plump and juicy, was placed on his tongue and he helped to guide it into his mouth, taking a bite just underneath the leaves. Purring loudly, Axel savored the sweet fruit as he chewed it, surprised when he felt a strawberry flavored kiss on his lips.

“I love you.” Zexion murmured, happy that someone trusted him enough to do this.

“Love you, too, Zex,” Axel told him with a smile, relaxing further into the nest they’d made of Zexion’s bed.

(19. Red)

The campus bonfire wasn’t something that Zexion would have been able to attend had he still lived with his father. Vexen didn’t approve of anything that dealt with so much fire, or so many irresponsible young adults around his son. It wasn’t like he was looking for Zexion here, though, and the younger male could get away with doing whatever he wanted while living on campus. It was nice, because he was able to spend time with Axel, cuddled up near the fire and sipping on a Banora White soda.

The orange light lit up Zexion’s slate blue hair as he leaned against Axel’s chest, settled between his legs. It made the red of Axel’s hair seem brighter, more intense, and as Zexion took another sip of his drink, he purred, nuzzling his face into the other’s chest. It felt so natural to just hide in their own little world in a public place like this, kissing occasionally and spending time just enjoying each other’s company.

If someone had asked him three years ago if he thought he had a real chance staying with Axel, Zexion would have laughed mirthlessly at the prospect. Now, he was more than happy to be with the other male during every ounce of spare time he had, and he was glad that Axel seemed ready to enjoy his company in return.

(20. The Road Home)

“What are you gonna do this summer?” Axel asked absently, petting a hand through Zexion’s blue hair and humming lightly.

“I was going to take a few summer classes, though I won’t be living in the dorm for them. Vexen was going to drive me, I think he misses having me around.” Zexion figured he was lonely without him there, even if he had more time to work and do whatever he wanted without him. Axel nodded slowly, kissing the top of his head.

“I should do something, then, welcome you back home.”

“I feel like I’m leaving home, having to go back.” Zexion replied, “You feel more like home than that house ever could, at this rate.”

Axel kissed his lips softly, “You’re so poetic.”

“You make me feel things only poetry can hope to describe,” Zexion replied sweetly, chasing his lips several times before the pair gave up putting on airs. Laying around doing little to nothing to pack, they spent the better part of the afternoon kissing their day away. They only had a few days left of this life before the summer vacation, and Axel was going to miss this for the next four months.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

AN: Alright, so! I hope you guys enjoyed this, it was a lot of fun for me to work on. I really love writing these two, it’s too much fun to do! I think they’re definitely a guilty pleasure ship for me. I just think they have a nice dynamic, despite everything. I hope you guys enjoyed it, and I’ll see you in the next part!

Prompt: Thirty Kisses Theme Set 1 Kisses 11-20

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