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FFxiv 30 Day Writing Challenge
SEPTEMBER 1st - 30th, 2023
Welcome to YEAR 7 of our annual FFxiv 30 Day Writing Challenge, folks!
Last year we had 11,165 total entries! Which brings us to a total of 42,947 unique written entries over the last 6 years. That is just incredible! And something that I think that we should be super proud of as a creative fan community.
Whether you're new to the FFxivWrite community or a 6-year writing challenge veteran, if you'd like to give perfectionism in your creative writing process a swift kick in the butt, then this challenge was designed for you!
More info is below the cut~
Here’s the gist:
Runs from September 1st - 30th, 2023. During that timeframe:
Visit sea-wolf-coast-to-coast once a day at 12:00pm (noon) PDT for the prompt of the day. Convert to your timezone accordingly. All prompts will be one word or brief phrase that you can interpret however you please.
You have 24 hours to write something for that prompt.
Submit the link to your entry post via this Google Form:
https://forms.gle/ixGUFKnYqKLz64Cw5
There are no length or skill requirements (short & sweet is fine!).
There will be no 24-hour deadlines for the first week, September 1st - 7th. The deadline will go into effect on September 8th at 11:59am PDT.
Makeup/extra credit days every Sunday.
Every entry posted within its 24-hour deadline will count toward a participation prize raffle at the end.
You can join any time with any prompt #! There’s no need for latecomers to start with prompt #1. Picking up with the most recent prompt is A OK.
If you’re an artist and you would like to volunteer to do a simple black & white illustration as a participation prize at the end of this challenge, you can volunteer here!
RULES & MORE INFO can be found here:
https://ffxiv-write.carrd.co/
(( banner art - by @dantinmikannes ))
Rules & Info || Prompt List || #FFxivWrite2023 || kofi
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I volunteered to do a participation prize this year for FFXIVwrite and had the honour of drawing @duskwightdancer Gwen. Thank you for sharing her story with me and congrats!
And a huge thank you to @sea-wolf-coast-to-coast for organizing the event!
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FFXIVWrite2023 Participation Prize
for @saesama!
Thank you @sea-wolf-coast-to-coast for organising this event once again!
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02. prompt / bark
Enveloped in darkness I spied her, a picturesque vision of radiance and splendor, swathed in billowing silks against a wind that stole a feverish caress from her skin. She was armed with a scythe that appeared to be made of hellfire, splendid and monstrous in appearance.
Fog slithered around her naked ankles and rose around her frame, shielding her from view, as she silently entered a disquieting area saturated with the scent of death and ill presence, one that I assumed caused this haze and fatalities.
From the ominous gloom ahead, between the bare trees that dappled the landscape in unsettling silhouettes, stood her adversaries over the bodies of the deceased, slain by their blades. Her targets.
I wanted to interfere, brandish my blade and let it ring in battle and take on her burden, destroy them, and deliver their demise to her feet. However, suddenly something anchored my feet to the earth and my body refused to move.
In the woods resonated the guttural sounds of beasts, bouncing off the hides of the trees and filling my ears. A chill journeyed from the back of my neck down the curve of my spine as the bloodcurdling, visceral sounds, rose around her.
I could not see her features from where I stood, but I doubt fright had seized hold of her, for this was her domain. This was her world and I was merely a visitor watching it unfold at her silent command.
Darkness solidified around her; ravenous eyes blinked into existence, followed by cacophonous howls that drove her foes into a frenzy. Yet she stood, statuesque as two hounds rose several fulms high, matching the height and the rough bark of the trees that encircled us.
Feeling returned to my legs after being transfixed on what transpired before me; I readied myself to charge to protect her, for if she was to be felled, it would not be here. But their multiple, luminous gazes were cast upon me, warning me in their glare, daring me to approach. Her back was to me, she didn't bother to cast a glance past the curve of her shoulder. Instead, she readied for an incoming attack.
And I could only watch in awe and curse her companions all the same for keeping her from me.
- Shigure Yatakura
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FFXIV Write 2023
Prompt: Envoy
Always so nice, this one is!
Eisha found the sylphs fascinating, growing more fond of them the longer she spent in Little Solace. It didn’t take long for them to adore her, too, after she learned what it was each one was enjoyed. Some liked dances, for others it was rhymes.
Noraxia was fond flowers. Bright blues, vibrant reds— each of them meaning a secret thing to the little Sylph, things she shared each time Eisha returned to the Waking Sands. Yellow was like sunshine, honey-sweet and leaving you full of joy. Red so rich it made you dizzy, like the berries brought to Hawthorne Hut in exchange for milkroot. With every small telling of secrets, she began to sense that Noraxia missed her people, her home, and the flowers made her happy.
So she vowed to keep bringing the flowers, a small comfort, every time she returned.
Even the day where she had been too late, the day they turned out to be most needed. As she held the little Slyph close, she gave her a flower of pale blue.
Blue like the sky, and to remind this one of brave walking one. Favorite one.
She carried the little Sylph to the cart, placed her gently amongst the others. She stood solemnly in the distance as they performed funeral rites, not daring to get any closer unless the guilt bury her further.
Noraxia had wanted to be just like her, an envoy of peace for the world. Helping others, halting darkness— all things brave, yet kind.
As much as the grief aimed to wound her; she kept going forward, carrying Noraxia’s dream with her.
#oops my hand slipped#FFxivWrite2023#ffxivwrite#my writing#noraxia#eisha pantera#the sylphs#noraxia the sylph#ffxiv writing
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FFxivWrite2023 Participation Prize for @shroudandsands !
Thanks to @sea-wolf-coast-to-coast for organising!
#art#drawing#my art#artists on tumblr#digital art#mine#FFXVI#ffxiv elezen#ffxivwrite2023#ffxivwriteprizes#ffxiv#ffxivwrite
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#FFxivWrite2023 - Day 16: Jerk
The Crystal Exarch’s head jerked upwards as the aetherial chain around his neck pulled taut. Emet-Selch, who for gods-only-know what reason still wore the garb of Emperor Solus, walked into the room with a cool nonchalance.
“Sorry, am I intruding? I had hoped you might indulge me with a little chat,” the Ascian said.
G’raha simply stared with a calm, patient loathing. He needed to conserve what little strength he had—and hopefully even recover a little more, if that was even possible. It would be difficult. He was so very far from the tower. Coming to that, he did not rightly have an idea where he actually was, besides “a long way away”.
The surrounds were amenable—almost hospitable—but huge, built for beings several times larger than anyone he knew. He felt he saw faint hints of design that one might see in Garlean architecture, but this felt warmer. Richer. Less consumed with constantly brandishing a fist of iron. More invested in art and enlightenment. Were it not for his aetheric restraints, he would be quite eager to explore.
Of course, he had made all of those observations between when he had regained consciousness, and now. He was a bit preoccupied with other matters at the moment.
Emet-Selch was by no means the first dangerously-powerful madman he’d faced. So he knew he must stay stoic and focused. Maintaining composure was absolutely essential for not talking one’s way into a trap—doubly so when dealing with one of the Paragons.
It also tended to drive said dangerously-powerful people to utter distraction, which was always a bonus.
“No?” Emet-Selch sighed, feigning disappointment. “Shy, are we? I would have hoped for more from the, what was it again? ‘Adjudicator of sacred history’...?”
The subtlest smirk tugged at the corner of G’raha’s lips. The Ascian’s tone had clearly been intended to mock how low he had fallen. But he took it as a heartening sign. He had gotten to him.
Emet-Selch’s face registered the briefest flicker of irritation. But he shrugged and shook his head. “I had thought to use your chosen title to be polite. But if it no longer suits you…” he knelt to the Exarch’s eye level, who was bound, seated, against the wall. “Then perhaps you would prefer I use another term. Tell me, what should I call you?”
“‘Crystal Exarch’ will suffice.”
“Hmm. I think not, G’raha,” the Ascian replied. He was only the second person in a hundred years to use his true name. G’raha did not appreciate it. Emet-Selch wryly continued, “Oh yes, I did indeed hear your champion as you were trying to draw that light out of her. What a pity you did not have the strength to see the deed done in the end. What a torturous, agonizing transformation she must be undergoing. Perhaps even as we speak!”
To any who did not know him well, G’raha’s utter non-reaction would have come as a surprise. One might conclude he did not seem to care all that deeply for the Warrior of Light after all.
But of course, the truth was simply that nothing Emet-Selch could say would be worse than what he had berated himself with already. He remained quiet. He did not break eye contact.
The cavalier air started to fade. Emet-Selch’s gaze grew hard. “So, G’raha. You are clearly from the Source. But who are you?”
“No one you would ever need be aware of.”
“Well, obviously,” he said, rolling his eyes, “Else we would not be having this conversation. How came you to know such unique applications of the tower?”
“Do you not find its workings simple enough?” he answered dryly.
“Quite so. And what you have done should not be possible. …And we have had this conversation before, so let us cut right to the chase. How did you do it?”
“Impossibly, it would seem.”
Emet-Selch raised his hand, and with a quick turn of his wrist, the aetherial shackles wound around the Exarch tightened. He gritted his teeth against the pain, but made not so much as a sound.
“Do you know how easily I could kill you?” the Ascian asked.
“With very little effort, I’d imagine. …But you won’t.”
Another squeeze of the constraints. Emet-Selch’s voice was low, nearing a growl. “I would advise you not to tempt me otherwise.”
Both men stared at each other, waiting to see who would balk first.
Suddenly and without warning, Emet-Selch straightened up with a start and looked off into the distance at nothing. He appeared as if he had heard something. G’raha couldn’t tell what.
But whatever it was, it allowed Emet-Selch’s infuriatingly casual facade to slip back into place. He released his intangible grasp on the chains, and G’raha slumped, gasping a quiet breath of relief.
The Ascian stood. “Ah. Forgive me, adjudicator, but business calls me away. Do have a think about what we discussed while I am out, would you?”
“Anything for you,” he replied, allowing himself a parting barb of sarcasm.
Emet-Selch smirked. He walked away with a halfhearted wave. “Try not to dally too much. After all… the forthcoming rejoining is back on schedule, and it shall wait for no man.”
As the heavy door swung shut, G’raha hung his head and tried to breathe deeply. If he had any desperate last chance to make things right—however slim—he must focus.
With every onze of his senses, and quietly whispered incantations, he began attempting to decipher a way to dispel his bonds.
#FFxivWrite2023#FFxivWrite#Shadowbringers spoilers#Crystal Exarch#G'raha Tia#Emet-Selch#two old men have a staring contest
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FFXIVWrite 2023
#6: Ring
Noun: a typically circular band of metal or other durable material, especially one of gold or other precious metal, often set with gems, for wearing on the finger as an ornament, a token of betrothal or marriage, etc.
Set some time before the events of 7.0; Aymeric’s head butler Arnaud carries down a box from the Borel Manor’s attic that brings back precious memories, and conjures up dreams of the future.
As the elder elezen walked into his lord’s parlor, he saw the younger man sitting on the sofa in his blue silk robe, running his hand through his raven curls with a deep frown on his face and hunched over what looked to be a shopping catalog. He cleared his throat as he announced, “Dinner will be served within the hour, my lord.”
Aymeric glanced up at his head butler for a moment with a quick little smile before returning his attention back to the catalog in his hands. “Thank you, Arnaud.”
“If I may ask…?”
Looking up again, Aymeric replied, “Hmm? Of course, what is it?”
Arnaud tilted his head in curiosity as he noticed that the catalog in question was from the Ul’dahn Goldsmith’s Guild. “You seem troubled. Is something the matter?”
“Oh, ‘tis nothing to worry yourself over. I just have to make a decision, but I am not fond of any of these choices.”
Aymeric sat the catalog down on the table and Arnaud could finally see the items that his lord was referring to: a selection of what appeared to be engagement rings. A smirk crossed his lips. “Ohh, I see…”
Sighing, Aymeric crossed his arms and shook his head. “Hali deserves the best ring in all of the world, one that is as beautiful as she is, and one that she will adore for the rest of her life. And yet, none of these are right.”
“It is an important decision to be sure, though I am confident that Lady Hali will love anything you give her. For her, as long as it is from you, and comes straight from the heart, she will be over the moon with joy.”
“No, you are right. Still, I cannot help but want it to be perfect, and none of these are what I have envisioned.”
“What exactly do you have in mind?”
Aymeric closed his ice blue eyes momentarily before turning his attention back to Arnaud. “I picture a brilliant blue jewel with diamonds surrounding the center like stars in the night sky. With a crescent moon perhaps? Hmm…”
“A brilliant blue jewel, you say?” The elder man’s mind immediately recalled a ring that fit that description in part, but most importantly, the jewel that served as the ring’s centerpiece. Yes, it just might fit perfectly. “Well, I believe that I have a solution for you, my lord. Just wait here a moment.”
Before Aymeric could reply, Arnaud walked out of the room. A few minutes later, the butler returned with a small blue velvet box that was covered in a thin layer of dust. He brushed off the dust as Aymeric’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped in shock.
“Wait, you don’t mean…”
Arnaud nodded as he opened the little vintage box in his hand. “Yes, your late mother’s ring.”
As both elezen men turned their attention to the ring, of which had belonged to the late Lady Borel, Aymeric’s adoptive mother, a gleam of nostalgia and joy twinkled in Aymeric’s eyes as he admired the blue diamond encircled with tiny white diamonds on a band of gold. It was close to being a century old now, but it was still a sight to behold.
The elder smiled as he offered up his thoughts. “For over a decade, it has been collecting dust in a box in the attic. Why not take the ring and commission a goldsmith to create a new setting for the blue diamond, and make the perfect ring for your beloved? I dare say that Lady Borel would have been the first to approve, and she likely would have put forth the suggestion herself.”
Arnaud sat the opened ring box down on the table in front of Aymeric, who then picked it up and looked it over more closely. With a nod and a grin, Aymeric replied, “You are not wrong about that, Arnaud. Yes, I think that is exactly what I should do. Thank you, my friend.”
“Anytime, my lord.”
#ffxivwrite2023#ffxivwrite#prompt 6 ring#aymeric de borel#ser aymeric#wol x aymeric#aymeric x wol#hali x aymeric#ship: hold me closer#short and sweet#it’s not perfect but it’s something#my mind immediately went to engagement ring for this prompt#and I had to write it out#also introducing Arnaud#he’s the servant that you meet during the dinner with Aymeric cutscene#anyways hope you enjoy!
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Prompt #13: Check
Check.
Check your armor, check the metal, check the straps. No rust, no worn leather, no loose stitches. Check your sword, look for chips, cracks, worn edges. Hone the blade. Check the seat of your pauldrons, the fit of your gauntlets, the straps on your shield.
“Squire or not, you know your own equipment too.” Seraphin said. “A good squire will leave you nothing to find but two pairs of eyes are less likely to miss a fault than one. You don’t want your equipment to fail when you are relying on it.”
“I will.” Silvaineaux said, tugging the straps of his shield again, setting it in against his arm, into the grip of his fist.
“Always.” His brother said, reaching up to adjust a pauldron until it sat just so. “Every time. Whenever you can.”
And then Silvaineaux understood that what Seraphin was saying was ‘I love you. Be safe.’
He said it back when he said. “I promise.”
Check.
Check your bird. Check his eyes for brightness, check his feathers for sleekness, check his legs for soundness. Check his saddle for its seating. Check his barding for its fit. Check him with a firm hand on the reins, but not a cruel one.
Joyeux nibbled at his hair as he ran his hands over the buckles at his neck and seated the scale of the barding to protect the vulnerable length of the warbird’s throat. That preening beak moved to the fall of the cloak over Silvaineaux’s shoulder when he bent to check the fit of the girth and the straps that fell so close to the vulnerable joints of the wing.
Silvaineaux tugged a strap into place, pulled it carefully tight. Joyeux’s beak tugged a fold of his cloak into an arrangement that better suited the warbird.
“Thank you, mon fidèle ami.” Silvaineaux said, leaning down to take a better look at the bird’s stout scaled legs and heavy claws.
Joyeux crooned as he straightened again. His massive beak darted close and then stroked the strands of hair back from Silvaineaux’s cheek, with such delicacy he barely felt it.
Silvaineaux reached up to ease a feather of his crest back into place, then put a foot in the stirrup and swung up. He knew what they had said to each other.
Check.
Check the sky. Check your field. Check your standing. Check your wounded. Check the fallen.
There were so many names. He had never had Honore’s gift for remembering names and details about everyone he ever met. Silvaineaux had worried at first that he might fail one of them in that way when they most needed to be known. His men deserved to be more than a name and a half remembered face or a rank. His memory was not poor, but he had never had his brother’s gift for making a friend of everyone in moments.
But the moments before and after battle were not the same sort of moments he found everywhere else. It did not take him long before he knew the men who fought beside him. Not just their names or their faces, but their quirks in battle, their gifts and failings. He was not their friend. In some ways it was his job not to be, but he knew them.
Silvaineaux bent to straighten the fall of the stained cape that covered Yvon’s still face and destroyed body. Yvon Bardin. He whispered in his thoughts.
Then gratefully he moved onto the living. “That one’s sending you home for good, Redding.” He told the hyur with a gesture toward the bandages around his midsection.
The greying man was half out of his head with what the medic had spared him for the pain but he surprised Silvaineaux with a smile. “So it is, Captain. You’ll miss me.”
Silvaineaux surprised himself when he reached down to touch the man’s shoulder and said. “I will.” He meant it.
Check.
Check the darkness when you wake. Check the sounds. Check the door. Check the windows. Find where you are.
He woke from dreams of a chapel flooded with blood. Of a dragon swooping down from the vaults, stalking toward him, its claws tearing the already mangled bodies of slain friends with every step.
His lungs felt like fire and he tasted blood in the back of his throat.
Yet the room was quiet, the air full of the familiar scents of furniture polish and the fireplace. Outside the wind and snow were a whisper that could not touch him. And on this night when he reached out with one frantic hand he found a warm body beside him already stirring to his touch.
He found Sui by feel, scooting closer until he could wrap himself around that warm and familiar frame and grip him as if he were both what he shielded and his shield. A soft stirring answered him and one smaller hand came to cover his. That light touch reminded him to ease and he let the tension ebb from his own hand one finger at a time.
“Just a dream.” He said in response to that touch. “You’re here.”
He hoped Sui knew what it really meant.
( @bookbornexiv for Sui)
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FFXIVwrite 2023
Prompt - Fish out of Water
A person away from his or her usual environment or activities
Content Warning: Mention of Pregnancy, Endwalker MSQ
Word Count: 1549
Set during the months between finding a new route to the void, Kiri asks that Zero and Estinien accompany her to Doma to pay Hien a visit. Although out of place, Zero is never too far away from Kiri.
Zero was truly a fish out of water if there had ever been one. From Radz-at-han, Garlemald, and to the warm climate of Doma, all an exciting, if not exhausting new experience.
She could manage well enough with her fellows beside her, namely Kiri who could talk her way out of a paper bag with a laugh and a charming smile. Estinien too was never far behind, mindfully watching Kiri throughout the months they spent together. With them, Zero felt it a little easier to breathe. They never expected her to be anything else but herself.
This week, in-between talks of how best to reach the 13th again, they were given pardon to a little field trip of sorts. A short visit to Doma at Kiri’s request which no one seemed inclined to deny. Vrtra would stay at Radz-at-han in case news developed in the meantime, the trio sailing for Doma the next morning.
“You are attuned to the aetheryte in Doma, are you not?” Zero asked abruptly as they filed off one ship in Kugane only to greet another, smaller, boat to take them further. “Surely you could have gone ahead.”
“Aye,” Estinien, hauling a small bag of goods, climbed the boat first before offering a hand to the warrior of light.
Kiri accepted happily, a smile brightly painted on her face as she gave Estinien a pat on the cheek. “And miss this sorta attention? Never.”
Since having met her in person, away from the shadow of Zenos, Zero had noticed a change in the silver haired woman. Always smiling, always a hand close to her stomach. She had begun to wonder if the food at Radz-at-han was simply too rich for Kiri. Excessive eating of, albeit delicious, food would certainly have an effect.
But when Zero thought to bring it up, Kiri would simply smile and hum with her melodious laughter.
“Truthfully,” Kiri began once they had taken off from port, her hand gliding on the water's surface. “Using the crystal to travel upsets my stomach.” She gave a soft pat of her belly, looking dreamily out at the Ruby sea. “And the fresh air is nice, ain’t it?”
From the Ruby Sea to a small village named Namai, the trio traveled with light, idle banter. Estinien and Zero would clear the path of monsters or the ilk while Kiri diverted their attention to point out flora she liked or to show Zero tiger cubs watching them from the brush malms away. The scenery itself was colorful to Zero’s eyes, different from Radz-at-han certainly, but still appealing. Now only if they serve spicy curry…
At Namai they were greeted by a woman, Yugiri, who seemed well acquainted with Kiri. Small of stature but strong of presence. Politely she introduced herself and in typical Zero custom, a tilt of her hat was given in return.
“I apologize on behalf of Lord Hien,” Yugiri started once they were on their way again. “He is otherwise occupied in a meeting with G'raha Tia at the moment.”
“G'raha?” It was in unison that Kiri and Estinien replied, making Zero look them over curiously.
“It was at Lord Hien’s request that they meet.” Yugiri continued, a small smile on her lips. “He was eager to meet the famed G'raha Tia that you speak so fondly of.”
Kiri and Yugiri shared a light chuckle that had Zero feeling as though she missed some context. Partly she wondered what tales Kiri had told them of G'raha, and partly wondered if Kiri spoke of her as well.
Kiri had a way about her storytelling that always felt like a vivid dream. Zero found herself wanting to hear everything about Kiri; especially the stories where she could hardly speak without breaking into a rumbling fit of laughter. Did she weave stories about their time together as well? Nothing funny particularly stood out in Zero’s mind, but deep down, in some unknowable place in her heart, she hoped Kiri told extravagant stories of their shared experiences. For what purpose she did not yet understand, only that she hoped Kiri’s face lit up for her the way it did for everyone else.
Reaching Doma wasn’t particularly interesting for Zero. She silently took in the landscape, recognizing acts of war that had ravaged it with a heavy heart. But yet the villagers of Namai had been in high spirits, working toward a brighter future. And the enclave was no different. Children raced down the streets while adults went about their daily chores, turning to smile as they made their entrance from the pier.
There was hope to be seen in these faces. War wasn’t eternal to them, not like the conflict that made the void so dreadful. Would she one day know this feeling? Or hear children laughing while playing in patches of warm sunlight? Was there hope for the 13th?
“Kiri!” A voice intruded on Zero’s thoughts as two men emerged from the manor before them. G'raha tagged along behind the first, giving Zero and Estinien a brief wave.
“Oi, havin’ friends over without me, eh?” Kiri laughed. The man, while practicing an air of sophisticated calm, practically raced up to the group and indulged himself in lifting Kiri off the ground in an embrace.
Together they danced, laughing and teasing each other with small, fluttering kisses on the cheek. Zero, much like Estinien, turned away as if she were the one intruding on their personal time.
This was the man that Kiri spoke so frequently about, Hien. Zero recognized him from countless descriptions she had been told as she and Kiri ate bowls of curry in Radz-at-han. Seeing them together now only made it easier to see why Kiri enjoyed talking about him. Like watching sunlight on a summer afternoon. They felt bright and warm.
Hien put Kiri back on her feet before kneeling, his hands carefully placed on her rounded stomach. Zero cocked a brow, again feeling as though she shouldn’t be watching.
“Hello to you too, little one. I’ve missed you both.” He spoke so softly Zero thought perhaps she misheard him.
To Estinien, Yugiri, and G'raha, Zero turned, head tilted slightly. “She is with child?”
The group exchanged a wide eyed look, Yugiri being the first to smile before the men. “Yes she is.”
G'raha cleared his throat, attempting his best effort not to laugh. “Her stomach wasn’t nearly so round when she first met you, was it?”
Zero shuffled in place, crossing her arms as she gave it some thought. “…The food at Radz-at-han is very amenable… And she is never far from a plate of fruits…”
At this Estinien howled and G'raha choked on laughter.
“What? It isn’t too abstract to believe, is it?”
Yugiri gently placed a hand on Zero’s shoulder, smiling in a similar manner as Kiri would have. “You’re absolutely right about that. If there is one thing Kirishimi loves, it’s good food.”
“What’s this ‘bout food?” Practically deserting Hien where he stood, Kiri eagerly stepped closer to her fellows. She wore the look of a cat who had heard the dinner bell.
A light flutter of laughter echoed amongst the party while Zero steadied her attention to Kiri. She truly was a fish out of water. When you exist in a world without reason to celebrate such things as new life, a world that had no use for newborn children, what then did one do in such circumstances?
In any other situation, Zero would approach Kiri about it, asking for clarification of customs. One should be happy to hear the news of a child, right? Perhaps say something pleasant, like … good job? You did well? None seemed to suffice, at least not in her mind.
Briefly she wondered about her own mother, and all the other mothers and newborn children that existed in her world before it was torn apart. Before darkness swallowed any sort of happiness or joy. A heaviness filled her chest as the thought expanded. How warm had her mothers embrace been? Was this what it meant to trust and love someone? The trust one held for their mother, the very reason for her existence.
“Zero?” Kiri’s voice chimed like a bell beside her, drawing her away from the bitterness that tightened her throat. The Warrior of Light had moved closer, her head tilted in her typical curious fashion. “Everythin’ alright?”
Everyone else had started a new conversation, a discussion of a planned dinner, of course. But for once, Kiri hadn’t been a part of it. Zero looked away, crossing her arms again. “..What does one say when you are happy for them?”
Kiri blinked in response. “What’cha mean?”
“To you. I want to say I am happy for you but I don’t know how to express it. Certainly there is a custom for this, right?” Zero never met Kiri’s eyes as she spoke, but the gentle hum of a laugh was more than enough for her.
“Ohhh.” Her laughter grew, bright and contagious as always. “Oh Zero, you can say ‘Congratulations!’ Or just sayin’ yer happy for me is more than enough.”
Before Zero could repeat the chosen word, a pair of arms wrapped around her. She stammered a hushed ‘congratulations’ before pulling at the brim of her hat.
“Thank you, Zero.”
#|| Untold Stories#ffxiv#ffxivwrite#hien rijin#hien x wol#zero ffxiv#estinien varlineau#yugiri mistwalker#cw - pregnancy#HI I LOVE ZERO A NORMAL AMOUNT SHE'S SO CUTE#kiri will hug zero forever and ever
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Prompt 5: Barbarous
FFXIV 30 Day Writing Challenge
Prompt 5: Barbarous
In one moment Alisaie was forcing her way through the pain, reaching out for Brigid’s hand, fighting against that profoundly vexatious voice—
—and in the next, she was sprawled against a cold, incredibly smooth floor, and not the torn up ground of the battlefield.
“O-oh, oh dear,” came a voice— that voice!
Alisaie’s fist clenched, and she could barely hear another voice over the rushing of blood in her ears, before she leapt up, feet barely skidding on the overly smooth floor, catching sight of a figure in a hooded robe.
Pain exploded from her hand, and suddenly the figure was on the floor, hood irritatingly still in place. Alisaie was on her feet, shoulders heaving as she breathed. Her throat burned, and another voice echoed through the room— oh, that was probably her voice, wasn’t it? The one demanding answers, cursing everything about the figure still on the floor, from linage to how many brains were between their ears, demanding “send me back, I can’t leave her alone!”
“Alisaie!”
She swung her head around, ready to punch another person if they even barely pushed her, only to feel the wind leave her sails as she beheld—
“Alphinaud!”
Sure enough, there stood her brother, looking none the worse for wear, with a wide but weak smile on his face and a bundle of cloth in his arms. She reached out to take his face in her hands, turning him this way and that, trying to confirm his being hale and whole for certain. “Gods be good, are you alright?!”
His face scrunched in a scowl as she manhandled him, but didn’t push her away. “Yes, yes, Sister, you needn’t worry about me, we haven’t been parted that long.”
“Not that long, he says!” she nearly yelled. “The last time I saw you, Gaius bloody Baelsar was carrying your unconscious body! So forgive me for wanting to make sure you’re safe in— in wherever we are!”
“You are on the First,” replied the figure, using his staff to pull himself back to his feet. “You may call me the Crystal Exarch.”
Alisaie didn’t precisely care what she could call him, not when ‘that bastard’ sat so perfectly on her tongue.
“We have much to speak of,” he continued, as though he had invited them out for a spot of tea. “Though you might wish to dress, first?”
Dress..?
And that was when Alisaie realized exactly how cold she felt, and how much air was touching how much of her body. Her hands abruptly let go of Alphinaud’s face, which was already forming an expression of apprehensive realization.
“You bastard!” She leapt again. Alphinaud leapt after her.
“Alisaie no! At least put on some clothes before you choose violence!”
#FFXIVWrite#FFXIVWrite2023#FFXIV#Alisaie Leveilleur#Alphinaud Leveilleur#Crystal Exarch#are we still warning for ShB spoilers?
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FFxivWrite2023 Begins September 1st!
Artist Volunteer sign-up is now open ✨
Thaaaaaat's right - WE'RE BACK for year 7 of the FFxiv 30 Day Writing Challenge! The official rules post will go up in a couple of weeks. In the meantime you can learn more on the challenge website:
✨ ffxiv-write.carrd.co ✨
Artist volunteer sign-up will be from August 1st - October 1st, 2023
Visit the challenge website for more info, and for a sign-up link:
✨ ffxiv-write.carrd.co/#volunteer ✨
See you on September 1st, 2023!!
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Day Thirteen: Check
After the Vault, she would check if he was breathing.
For the first time since they’d begun whatever it was that had been growing between them (and around them, and through them, and twisting into the very core of her until she was no longer confident where she ended and he began), she spent the night in his bed. She lay there, watching his chest rise and fall, her delicate fingertips tracing a breath away from the bandages that wrapped around his torso, his shoulder, his arm. Heat seemed to radiate, still, from the angry burns, and she would lay the palm of her hand on the centre of his chest as he slept, feeling every breath he took that proved he was still alive.
—
After the final battle at the Steps of Faith, he would check if she was breathing.
Stretched out alongside her in the rose gold glow of sunset, he watched her chest move with every breath, the very silhouette of her enough to leave him awestruck and dumb. With calloused fingers unworthy of her unblemished skin, he’d moved a stray lock of still-damp hair from her forehead, and traced along the delicate hollows of her cheeks, the fragile shells of her ears. He fell asleep holding her, pressed close enough to feel the rise and fall of her chest against his own, feeling every breath she took that proved she was still alive.
—
After the assassination attempt, she would check if he was bleeding.
She was in his bed more often than not in those days, curled into his side in the darkness and gone again before morning light. Lit in moonlight that shone silver across the snow, she’d feel out the place where the bandages were packed tightly, bitter and dry with layers of herbs. Her hands sought the warmth of him, fearful of finding that he’d be bleeding again. He’d catch her fingertips in her own and press them to his lips, murmuring soft reassurances until they could both fall asleep. Instinctually, she pressed her fingers to the inside of his bare wrist, feeling out his pulse that proved he was still alive.
—
After the Ghimlyt Dark, he would check if she was bleeding.
It had been pure instinct to bring her back to Ishgard, cradled protectively in his arms and laying so terribly, deathly still. He sat by her infirmary bedside, helpless to bring her home, truly home, in their bed where she belonged. Despite reassurances from the chirurgeons, he would run his hands carefully along her limbs, seeking out any physical injury that could have been missed, some mystery wound that could be the true source of her inertia. Instinctually, he pressed his fingers to the inside of her bare wrist, feeling out her pulse that proved she was still alive.
—
After Elidibus’ trial, she would check if he was real.
Startled awake by dreams she couldn’t remember, she’d find herself reaching out for him in the darkness, grasping desperately to find him, warm and alive and breathing and hers. Not a shade. Not a test. Not the version of him that she’d been forced to lay low, her blade shining with blood that wasn’t real, couldn’t be real, but it was him, it was him, and it was him, and she’d had to kill him as callously as she’d killed so many times before. And so she would wake, and tremble. Awake, too, every time she stirred, he’d pull him to him, folding her into his arms, and letting her listen to the steady beating of his heart that reassured her that her dreams weren’t real.
—
After she returned from the First, he would check if she was real.
Weeks and months had passed with him alone in their empty bed, his arms reaching out for phantom versions of her that never manifested to life. Alone and heartsick, he’d spent too many nightmares with her just out of his grasp for him to not gasp brokenly against her neck when his seeking arms found her at last. She was there, warm and alive and breathing and his. Not a shade. Not a test. Not the nightmare version of her that choked to death on her own power every night, his hands stained with the white blood he couldn’t protect her from. Awake, too, every time he stirred, she’d pull her to him, wrapping him in his arms and letting him listen to the steady beating of her heart that reassured him that his nightmares weren’t real.
—
After Ultima Thule, they checked on each other.
Her recovery was slow, and torturous. He rarely left her sight, and she rarely left his side. They passed hours laying facing each other, simply studying each other’s eyes and searching out exactly what it was that they’d nearly lost, and what lengths they’d go to to never let it happen again. Even later, when she could move, and walk again, and when he could bear to leave a room without her at his side, they caught small movements that had been building their entire lives together. Fingers touching wrist bones. Palms against chests. Fingertips pressed to lips.
Hearts beating in tandem.
We survived, we survived, we survived.
#ffxiv#ffxivwrite#ffxivwrite2023#okay finally caught up#they're in love your honour#wolmeric#aymeric / wol#aymeric x wol#aymeric de borel#aymeric#heavensward#heavensward spoilers#stormblood#stormblood spoilers#shadowbringers#shadowbringers spoilers#endwalker#endwalker spoilers#just. all the spoilers
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FFXIV Write 2023 Masterlist
Welp, I've made it through the month and I wrote everyday. Here is a list of each post if you missed any.
Day 1 Envoy
Day 2 Bark
Day 3 Morass
Day 4 Off the Hook
Day 5 Barbarous
Day 6 Ring
Day 7 Noisome
Day 8 Shed NSFW
Day 9 Fair
Day 10 Respect
Day 11 Once Bitten, Twice Shy
Day 12 Dowdy
Day 13 Check
Day 14 Clear
Day 15 Portentous
Day 16 Jerk
Day 17 Sparkle
Day 18 Fish Out of Water
Day 19 Weal
Day 20 Hamper
Day 21 Grave
Day 22 Fulsome
Day 23 Suit
Day 24 Shard
Day 25 Call It a Day
Day 26 Last
Day 27 Sole
Day 28 Blunt
Day 29 Contravention
Day 30 Amity
Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49795978
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06. prompt / ring
Namazu.
Of all the ventures you wished to undertake, under the cover of nightfall, you requested to visit them. I admit, I was anticipating to spend a few bells under the lingering blooms that clung to the end of this summer's season, where I may read to you my poorly crafted haiku and you indulged me with your most gentle smile.
But we find ourselves here, far from the tranquility of the gardens and whispers of the cool evening air, it is all replaced by the jubilant cries of わっしょい ( Wasshoi ) as a palanquin arrived at your feet expectantly and seperated us; I was suspicious that these catfish were quite aware already of what you were. I should have known, you appeared to be among welcomed company gave no motion of protest as they lead you to the yagura stage and helped you up.
Surrounding you, their small forms danced and squeaked, their bells scintillate with the splashes of amber that washed over from the torches alit around you, and rang loudly as if to announce to the kami of your performance. The drums sound like thunder, resonating into the electrified, charged ambient.
How many times have you done this, escaped your well constructed gilded cage, and gave yourself permission to simply enjoy an evening free from the burdens of your duty?
I had reservations about the company you kept up there, finding their behaviors unusual and often frivolous, but you appeared drawn to them. And in turn, they seemed to appreciate your company and excitedly cheered you on as your fans flew into the air and your silks billowed around your form. You did not appear to tire, instead, your smile grew and your face was aglow with radiance.
I wanted to bottle up that expression, this unadulterated joy painted across your features. When the dance concluded, you were busied by the school of catfish that wished to speak with you.
Seems I would await my chance.
Meanwhile, I would not squander this opportunity, of course, to introduce myself to the others, one look at their goods and I already saw a chance at profit.
I know, it is rather difficult to break away from old habits.
It was just a few moments that I stepped away from your side to spark some conversations, it was not long, and the squeaks take a bit of getting used to. However, short these conversations were, when I turned to find you, you had separated from your friends and stood alone from the group, staring at a single bell.
In the moons I have come to know you, I realized that there is yet so much to unravel about the silent world you live in. I often catch you staring off into the darkness, a melancholic expression veils your features, it is the same look you wear now, unblinking.
"M'lady Takahashi, is there something bothering you? Are you tired?" I hope to break you from the trance you seem to be in, perhaps my tone betrayed me and revealed my concerns, nevertheless, you break from your reverie with a soft, reassuring smile; light glimmered in your auric gaze when they met mine and I scraped the emotion in my voice as I became pleasantly overwhelmed to find that naught was amiss.
"Would you like me to purchase it for you, M'lady?" I had to bite back the desire to call her something more personal, but in present company I kept myself in check and instead I patiently waited for her response.
In truth, I could grant her anything she wished. I would find a means to do it, empty my coffers if she desired it of me, all she had to do was ask.
But she never did.
..And I doubt she would now.
I immediately feel something in my chest tightened and a faint whisper of tension ran along the curve of my jaw as her hands extend forward, signaling that she wished to speak. Anticipation begins to burrow its way into my core.
❛ In another time, when I was but a young girl still fresh to the world and all of its majesty, my parents would take me with them to the shrines with offerings. Back then you would see the suzu: bells much like the one before us.
I would rush quickly to the shrine, leaving my parents behind, just to tug on the rope with all my might and ring them. The beautiful sound would sink into my bones and my heart felt full to near bursting at how they echoed into the air. At first, I had no recognition of what their purpose was until my father explained it to me the last time we visited.
We ring it to call the kami, to repel evil spirits that would dare tread near, it was a means to conserve the sanctity of the sacred grounds.
Unfortunately, the shrine was turned to rubble and ash, forgotten by the people and overrun by flora. It is a monument of simpler days that I have been working on restoring. When I visited years ago, I could find no sign of the bells, but their music lives on in my heart.
Perhaps I may appear silly to come here and join the Namazu, but the sound of their own bells, how they ring with unbridled joy, part of me hopes that the kami may hear them.
Since I can no longer ring them myself. ❜
Everything you do is intentional, I am starting to understand that. After your hands returned to fold each other at your chest, I felt the words I wanted to say lodged in my throat. There was nothing I could say, instead my actions will speak at length of my intentions.
From the Namazu, I made purchase of this bell, and though they barely asked for much of me, I gave them plentiful to provide this as an offering to you and the shrine you have cared for.
"If you will allow me in honoring not only your father's memory, but to bring to life the melody that has lived on in your heart. I wish to place this upon the altar of your shrine." When the words finally came, it was a dam of emotions that poured from me that could not be likened to any poem that I have written you.
There was something profound and intimate in opening up to someone, to feel something inside you thaw away from the warmth the other person emits. Sharing this with you, being welcomed into your shrine, a hallowed place, is the highest honor.
I placed the bell on the altar and hoped that the kami would hear its, hollow, beautiful sound and return here, where you will be waiting. That you will be protected when I am not around, and others may watch over you in your solitude.
I may not win any favors with your now father, but perhaps the one that loved you just as dearly will know that you never forgot his teachings, and perhaps he may grant me the blessing of allowing me to remain at your side. To help you repair what you hold dear to your heart.
And to have an abundance of opportunities to ring bells at any future shrines we visit..
..together.
#ffxiv#ffxivwrite2023#ffxivwrite#ffxiv writing#hancock fitzgerald#kikyo takahashi#and her beloved father ;_;
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FFXIV Write 2023
Prompt: Shed
The storm clouds rolled in fast, and the rain just as sudden.
A torrential downpour interrupting what was supposed to be cherished moment-- one where he would ask for her hand in marriage, at the same place they'd shared their first kiss all those years ago. It had been perfect until now; a beautiful sunset, her favorite meal… he couldn't think of a better night to finally dive in headfirst.
Instead, icy rain soaked every inch of them as they made their way back to Revenant's Toll.
"I apologize for not minding the weather sooner. This was not my intent," He takes her hand in his, leading towards the Rising Stones. They head inside, down the hall and up the stairs to their shared room. The candles and fireplace were already lit, the room warm and inviting.
"Let us shed these wet clothes, I'll run a warm bath."
"Raha, wait."
"Yes, my love?"
"I have something for you." Her expression is coy, knowing. She pulls out a small box from her bag, "You left this back there. I spotted it before we ran off."
Is that what he thinks it is? Shit.
He takes it from her, "Oh, I… yes that is mine."
"I take it you weren't overly flustered just because of the rain."
"Well… it was certainly a surprise."
Aqua eyes meet crimson. She rests her hand on his cheek, "You can still ask, you know. Though my answer is the same."
He swallows. This isn't how he planned it to be, never expected it to be! And to ask now? He looks at her, hair dripping droplets of rain and clothes clinging to her frame, and sees the strong, brave woman who saved the world. He sees his best friend, his better half, and decides that no moment could be more perfect than when he'd asked on the Ragnarok.
So he asks again, "Eisha, will you marry me?"
Her answer is a grin, then a pounce, and finally shedding those wet clothes.
#FFxivWrite2023#ffxiv write 2023#ffxivwrite#my writing#wolgraha#eisha pantera#g’raha tia#wol x g’raha tia#grahawol#ffxiv writing
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