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fheythfully · 4 years

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only if for a night [NSFW]

She turns in a slow circle and notes the thorough recreation of her most cherished space, where none but those dear to her soul have been. She’s not alone, she finds with dream-like surprise: Ardbert stands solid and uncertain by the entrance, tracking his eyes over every inch of the room with a look not unlike hunger. Their eyes meet and she falters in her comfort, reality bleeding in with concern--has he been pulled in alongside her dreams at Feo’s insistence? Has she dreamt him up, too?

Oldroses bud and bloom behind her with the speed of seasons, all coalescing in the blink of an eye and the steady beat of a heart. A rock has appeared in her throat that she swallows past. The waking world pulls at her with its worries and she bats them all away with a thought, a flutter of invisible wings sweeping across her furrowing brow.

“Ardbert,” she calls out his name. Real, she decides stubbornly, with all the insistence of a dreaming, tired hero. “Dream with me.”

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She’s dreaming of home. Pixie laughter echoes in her ears and wings flutter against her cheeks, dusting her skin in glitter. Feo Ul’s comforting voice whispers promises of rest and she lets the King take her away, past flashes of Vylbrand’s coasts and Coerthan snow until she awakens in her own bedroom. Sunlight blesses the room in some indecipherable dawn or noon, the world outside blinding and unknown. Comforting light, familiar light; of sunshine and late spring, so unlike the angry sky she finds herself under day after day.

“Ardbert,” she calls out his name. Real, she decides stubbornly, with all the insistence of a dreaming, tired hero. “Dream with me.”

She falls into her bed, bedroom meticulously recreated by memory and pixie magic alike. The edges of the room blur into a pleasant hue and the stairs behind Ardbert leading above are hazy, unapproachable. She is happy with her small corner, familiar flowers and lanterns casting her in their pink, soft glow.

She beckons for him to join her and hesitantly he does, armour and all. At her sullen look he removes what he can, fingers stiff over an action not performed in a hundred years. It disappears into air once gone from his body.

“I missed you,” she tells him as he slowly sinks into sheets as soft as spun pixie cotton. Her body seeks out his and she props herself up on one elbow, the other running fingers over the simple shirt on his chest. “Do ghosts dream?” She wonders aloud, but the thought is swept away in the ease of Feo Ul’s affectionate magic. “I wondered how you and yours fared,” she continues, gazing into the ocean of his eyes in a moment of clarity. This conversation between them is a familiar one, gone over many times before in her room at the Pendants--except now he lies beside her, warm to the touch. She wants to cry and marvel at the dream both.

Her palm rests delicately against his throat, thumb lingering over his unsteady heartbeat. “I'm sorry for all that's happened.”

She feels him swallow against her skin. “Is this real?” He asks.

“I don't know,” she tells him. “I don't care,” she affirms and presses herself alongside the line of him, aching in how familiar he is. Time flows rich and heady around them as they gaze at each other, together in a way they haven’t been since he returned back to his world--the world she is on now, whole and physical yet he is nothing but a ghost wandering the realm.

“I don't want you to be so alone,” she murmurs, finding a space for her between his neck and shoulder. “ I don't want to be alone. Please dream with me, Ardbert.”

Slowly, his arms settle around her and she falls into his embrace. Inhales the scent of ash and leather and ocean brine. Her lips find skin and she presses a kiss there, tender and patient; when he trembles beneath her she lets him adjust to the sensation.

When his fingers travel up her arm, she sighs into it; when they curl at the base of her skull into her hair she murmurs in encouragement. It had been only once, before, but she remembers him as well as she knows her own self. Pixie magic or dreamstate, Ardbert or not Ardbert; she wants this, desperately and achingly.

She lets him set the pace, her ghost unseen for such a lonely, tragic century. She allows her head to be tilted up as he leans down and presses his mouth against her forehead, her cheeks, her eyes and at last her lips. It's slow and unsure and she pulls back, one hand cupping the side of his uncertain face.

“It's okay,” she tells him. “We don't have to be alone anymore.”

Her words undo him: relief flashes across his eyes and then he's upon her, body over hers as he flips her to her back and brackets her between his arms. His mouth against her burns as much as it aches, desperate and needy and sweet. She wants him everywhere, needs him like a long sought missing puzzle piece sliding into place.

His mouth leaves bruises on her neck and collarbone. She arches into him with a demand for more and the dreamscape gives her what she wants: her naked chest brushing against the soft cotton of his shirt. The groan he gives at seeing her inflames the inferno building within her. She catches his face in her hands before he can move to skin now unclothed. “It’ll only be what you want,” she tells him. In lieu of answer he turns his face and kisses the flat of her palm. In moments he too is bereft of what's remained of his clothes.

It's been too long , some waking part of her worries: how to move, where to touch her partner, how to watch for their telltale signs of pleasure. The dream sweeps it all away as she moves her arms over his body, cataloguing scars and muscle familiar from so long ago. His tongue swirls around her nipple and then the other and she arches off the bed, a cry at her lips. He travels further down, pressing reverent kisses between her breasts and down the tight skin of her stomach, until he's settled between her legs and she is the one left trembling. There is no time for fear anymore; only anticipation. He places a kiss at the juncture of her thighs and then his tongue finds her folds. Slowly, as if they have all the time in the world--in this dream we do, we do she murmurs to him, hands buried in his hair--he drags his tongue up towards her aching clit. Her moan of pleasure is piercing and she feels such relief as he continues working her, as if she's waited all this time since the last for him to come back to her. As if she's known the feeling of him all her life and can't imagine ever going without.

She comes against his mouth faster than ever before, shaking as he slows and waits for her body to settle. When her breathing evens out he glances up to meet her eyes, the air between them electric, and slides two fingers deep into her.

His name spills from her lips. “Ardbert,” she begs, worships, aware of his gaze devouring her as he moves inside of her. It's too much but not nearly enough. When he presses his tongue again against her she's lost once more, clenching around his fingers as they find the spot that aches so sweetly for him and press up against it. His name is a broken mantra on her lips. It's so good, he's so good to her as if he knows her as intimately as she knows him--tears slip from her eyes as she recognizes this fact, remembers the last time she had been able to touch him and how she cannot now. She chases them away, determined to enjoy this dream, this gift, whatever it is, to its fullest.

His eyes are intense on her as she comes down from her orgasm, and in them she sees that same knowledge, the same desire to forget. So she beckons him up against her body again and rises up to kiss him. She tastes herself in his mouth, chases his tongue with hers and bumps teeth against teeth. The feeling of him is hot and heavy against her, chest to chest and thigh to thigh; when her hand wanders down to wrap around him the groan he gives against her lips is world shattering.

He murmurs her name and then drops his head against her as she begins to move, breath wet and comforting against her breast. She wants him in a way so heartbreaking that it pulls at her, this image of them together in bliss in her own bed. Her bookshelves are familiar--the scent of ever blooming oldroses--a novel open and dog eared the way she'd left it--

She presses against him and they turn. Beneath her, he lies flushed and wanting. His eyes trace her body in the dim glow of her room, over every curve and scar; she does the same to him, drinking him deep with her eyes. She does not want this dream to end.

“Ella,” he says her name--in reverence, in heartache, in knowing . The truth hangs like a sword poised above them. She sets her jaw and leans down to kiss him behind his ear, the way she remembers he’d enjoyed. Down the column of his neck, continuing her descent. Her tongue lingers over the dusky nipples catching her attention. All the while her hand sweeps over him delicately, from head to base and over his thighs. Her fingers are wet with pre-cum. She wants to taste him, take him in her mouth and watch him come undone before her the way he had, but when she moves lower he catches her chin and shakes his head.

She bites her bottom lip. Next time , she promises herself, determined that there will be one. Settling back on her thighs she watches him take her in: her legs bracketing his, the rise and fall of her breasts as she guides herself onto him. At the first feeling of him she can't hold her composure any longer and moans, breath hitching as she sinks deeper.

“I missed you,” tumbles out of her mouth. Her eyes are shut and it feels like coming home. “It wasn't the same--not after you--”

Warm, calloused hands grip at her waist and her eyes flutter open to meet his. He looks as debauched as she feels: mouth open in pleasure, red flushing his cheeks and pupils so blown she can no longer see the ocean blue of his eyes. She trembles over him, waiting as the moment settles over them.

“I missed you,” she repeats herself softly and then moves. The slide of him is heavenly within her, and the sound he makes with his eyes still focused on hers is even more so. She sets the pace as she talks, a slow and teasing rhythm as she edges them both close to completion. “I'd look at the ocean and think of you. I took up an axe and thought of you. I’d study the stars and think of you.”

Her voice breaks as his hands spasm at her waist, gripping her tighter. She stops her tenuous movements over him and leans forward to link her arms behind his neck, her breath fluttering against his earlobe. “I’d touch myself and think of you,” the confession is whispered. He twitches within her and she presses her face against his hair, loving and sad as her fingers run through the short strand at his neck. “I'd have these dreams and it was always you. So please, Ardbert--” she pulls back to gaze into his eyes. “Make me yours again.”

The words are barely in the air between them before his mouth is against hers once more, hungry and teeth bumping as he surges up into her, hips snapping against hers enough to make her cry. Her breasts press up against his chest and drag against it, catching a moan from deep within them both as he drives further and further into her. She meets his rhythm with her own body, meeting him thrust for thrust and bruise for bruise as his hands press into her waist and she clutches at his neck, his shoulders; she feels one hand leave her skin only to settle in the infinitely small space between them and press into her tender clit, drawing her cries even higher. He finds that space inside of her he'd had earlier with his fingers and ruts up into it, so deep and filling her just so until she knows nothing but him and the taste of his mouth, the sound of her name on his lips as he tells her how good she is, how warm and tight and how he'd missed her too and how he doesn't want anyone but her--

She comes with her cries swallowed by his chasing mouth, walls clenching around him and she feels the groan he lets out, feels the reverberation of it into deep into her own bones. She's still caught in the thrall of it as he pumps into her, all rhythm broken as he chases after his own release; once, twice, brushing against her tender body and making her sob in pleasure and pain both. On the third time he stills with a cry and she feels him finish inside of her, hot and trembling and so heart achingly familiar.

The both of them sit pressed together for a time, catching their breath, before at last she pulls away. “Don't go,” she tells him sleepily as they untangle and fall into bed properly, arms winding around each other as if refusing to let go for even one moment. “Don't leave me alone again,” she murmurs, eyes already drifting shut--to further sleep? To awaken in bed alone?--as she whispers her selfish request. Her head finds purchase on his shoulder, his arms and legs entwining her. She feels his lips brush the top of her head.

“I can't,” he says.

She already knows.

#this is literally just pwp #my first attempt to boot so uh #jazz hands i guess #the world needs more ardbert content #my writing #ardbertxwol #final fantasy xiv #ffxiv #ardbert/wol

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tellusbane · 2 years

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Could you give us a meta on what would be Meteor's endgame: the one that he would love versus what you believe would be reality?

@drachenblood ( prompt )

My idea of endgame when thinking about Meteor is really him just going somewhere very far away where no one knows him and still continue his adventuring life even as an older man when Etheirys no longer needs him to become its savior.

I think that’s the sort of end that he would come to love too.

When all has been said and done, the aether of all things and shards will reach a state of equilibrium. The shard lost to void will breath life once again and those affected by their own calamities like The First will be properly restored. All the Shards of the Warrior of Light will return to their respective worlds and travel between reflections of the Source will be made possible, either by the help of the Crystal Tower or the Scions somehow learned of a way to manipulate the fissures into becoming portals, reuniting them with people of the First. Ardbert breathing life once more as well as Azem’s other shards. Life will simply become normal and the balance of aether will mean there will be no more room for Primal summonings. No more need for another Hydaelyn or Zodiark. No more need for a Warrior of Light. I’m sure in that time they have already figured out a way for true blooded Garleans to manipulate aether or that the realm and society had been shaped in a way wherein aetherial travel will be possible for them and that they have no cause to fear magicks anymore.

Dalmasca will be rebuilt and restored, as well as Doma and Ala Mhigo. Coerthas will then return to the vast greenery it once was and the people will no longer suffer in endless cold. Man and wyrm will co-exist without strife and maybe some of them will fly to Thavnair so they can join Vrtra. I like to imagine places that are lost will then resurface once more like The West Shroud, Coerthas Eastern, the other Highlands and Lowlands we never got to see. Maybe Meteor will instead make a home out of Ultima Thule. Maybe he’ll find Mare Lamentorum will just be his final resting place. Maybe he’ll be found there just laying flat on the surface and content with everything mankind has achieved, as Hydaelyn once did.

But I feel like what would happen is that, Meteor will regain all the other shards of Azem and when another world-ending event occurs, to save the entire star and maybe the whole cosmic universe, he’d have to sacrifice himself and be what Hydaelyn became. Which I’m hoping would not, as I do enjoy the concept of a mere mortal fighting in a world where Gods dance.

#inbox.#ooc.#drachenblood #bro why do you hate me

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sarenhale · 3 years

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AAAH AND IT’S FINISHED!!! I cannot believe it... there’s still a lot to go through in the post-main scenario, BUT for the moment, some thoughts...

Overall... pretty FUCKING GOOD??? YEAH??? Yeah man...

I’m very happy with how the story flowed overall, it felt fast but also well-paced and narrated. I liked the new areas and world A LOT, I think it was very succesful to create a story on a separate world from Eorzea, that starts and ‘ends’ there. It feels very fullfilling to see the First change so much since you arrive on it, both in areas (clearing the night sky), people, dialogues, npcs. The areas were all absolutely gorgeous, and all the trials and dungeons SUPER fun!! I liked the development of the Scions and character we already knew, this expansion feels like you really get to know them all a lot better. I loved Ryne and Emet-Selch, the new characters, I really loved seeing Ryne grow and be kind of a little sister to take care of during the story. She is SO SWEET and I CARE HER. Emet-Selch is... so fucking good? I made fun of him at first (because let’s be honest, I like to make fun of EVERYONE in this game, no one is safe from my sarcastic comments), but he really is the star of the expansion. I like how... FUN he is, I like his sarcasm and interactions with the warrior of light and the other Scions. I was worried that he would be a ‘super smart mainsplainy male villain’ (which I absolutely fucking hate, see Solas), but instead, he came off as very fun and genuine, both in his more sarcastic moments and also in the serious ones.

You do really feel closer to him as time passes and you learn of his homeworld and story, especially when you realize that in different circumstances, you could be the villain and him the hero... your roles are literally the same, just reversed. He too wants to save his world, just like you want to. It’s really heartbreaking and MAKES YOU THINK when you realize he would have as much reasons as you do for doing all he can to save his people and his world... it’s just a matter of who wins and who dies that decided who’s the villain and who’s the hero in the story, yeah? I liked this a lot. This was already introduced with Ardbert and the other Warriors of Light, where you learn about their story and how they were only trying to save their people, so I liked that you got to reflect on your role on the story from a different perspective, Emet-Selch’s and Ardbert’s.

And the final scene where Ardbert hands you the axe and fight with you... it was SO GOOD. I’m a bit disappointed we didn’t transform into a lightwarden after all, but hey, that’s gonna be covered by my art, no worries about that, I have some ideas for it.

Overall I really loved how serious this story felt, I feel like I needed a deep story where you really feel like the world and your life is at stake, and it’s narrated in an effective way. I can see why this game’s direction is really going somewhere great. Aesthetically wise, I also liked the Sin eaters a lot, how much they remind me of Claymore monsters, the bosses designs, everything was all veeery well executed and unique! I like how we got kind of a different, more gothic look on ffxiv’s world, and it makes sense since we’re not on Eorzea anymore but on another world. I’m excited to see how the story continues in the post-patches and hey, FINALLY getting to do more recent raids and content with friends. And slowly start to follow more blogs, artists, and fanfictions. God, I’m going to get drunk on fanfictions. So fucking drunk.

And of course, thanks everyone for sticking with me as I went through another expansion! I love commenting my experience, sharing art, memes, whatever the hell, and reading your comments and impressions. So thank you for being with me on this journey again! :)

#ffxiv #spoilers #ffxiv spoilers #shadowbringers spoilers

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kunstpause-archive · 4 years

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FFXIV NPCs as the type of players you meet in game

Inspired by the FFXIV husbands as healers post I thought what about all sorts of NPCs as your average FFXIV player you meet in the game?

Haurchefant: Doesn’t voluntarily play dps, he’s a tank at heart. If he has to he goes Ninja so he can still support his party. Has the annoying tendency to think he can off-tank as a dps and takes tankbusters not meant for him to “just help out.” As a tank he sometimes goes for flashy maneuvers more than safe use of cooldowns. The tank that always clicks hallowed ground just half a second too late.

Merlwyb: Big crit dps is all nice but steady and consistent wins the game for her. She is a strategist at heart, able to adapt to every situation and having a plan for each single moment in the fight. Her burst windows will make you wish you were the same class as her - her flawless execution will make sure you know you’ll never reach that standard.

Aymeric: Bard. He is there to support you and to literally sing your praises. Everything he does is to make you shine like the star you are meant to be. If he tanks he is the kind of PLD that stops his dps rotation to send a clemency your way. It’s not that he doesn’t trust the healer but you can never be too careful, you know? Watches your health bar more than his own.

Kan-E-Senna: Salty healer main that decided to play DPS and not care anymore. Picked up dancer at lvl 60 and never looked back. Her dps is good but she has no patience for really learning complex rotations. She just wants to hit things while looking amazing. Somehow ends up being in a world’s first party anyway.

Estinien: That one melee DPS that never, ever moves out of an AoE. Argues he can take it and a little bit of damage has never hurt anyone. Manages to live through situations he shouldn’t. Dies anyway to that one generic mechanic he should have seen coming.

Ysayle: Takes over leadership if noone stops her. She gravely misunderstood a boss mechanic once and has sworn: never again. Has watched all the guides and meticulously prepared for each fight. Knows each attack and what it does, you’ll never catch her unprepared, not even in roulettes.

Zenos: His DPS is his utility. The embodiment of the samurai. He is not here for all your group-relevant shit, he is here to parse in 1st place and he will gladly let the rest of the raid die so he can keep up his uptime. LB3 is his by right and you WILL adapt or you will be kicked from the group. (Becomes a praise hungry puppy dog if he ever meets someone who can out dps him.)

Yugiri: Now you see her, now you don’t. She is everywhere and nowhere in a battle, never standing still. But you don’t need to worry about her, she knows the fight by heart and you barely ever have to heal her anyways. Delights in stealing Zenos’ limit break whenever she manages.

Hien: Looks at first glance like every other melee dps main, but is actually trying his best to get rid of their bad reputation. He will explain the fight for you a dozen times if you need him to. Does top DPS but doesn’t run a parser because “we’re all in this together”. Low key carries every raid he is in but never claims the fame.

Lyse: That one person that keeps tagging along even though she said she wanted to go to bed three hours ago. Has a tendency to over explain fights to people who already know them. Tends to give people advice on how to better play their main job despite not having leveled it herself. Is a staunch believer in glam over practicality.

Crystal Exarch: That person that has every class on 80 and can actually play all of them quite well - but they play with a controller and sometimes their targeting is off. Prefers to tank or heal but will absolutely go dps if needed. Likes being a caster and loves to fiddle with 2+ minutes long rotations. Probably would be a summoner main if they could ever decide on maining anything.

Ardbert: Goes offline randomly, even during savage/extreme. It’s probably his internet but noone knows and he never explains. Doesn’t get kicked bc he is the one person that has done all the content before and his input is needed. Stacks with you even when it’s not necessary.

Emet-Selch: Afk’s for half of the fights. Doesn’t have a good excuse except that he’s bored. Probably watching netflix on a second monitor or literally napping. The guy that complains both in chat and in voice that the class rework took away his fav ability. Still wants the glory days of progging Alexander when it was brand new back.

#ffxiv #haurchefant #aymeric #Estinien #Emet-Selch #Crystal Exarch #Ardbert #Hien #Yugiri #Zenos #Ysayle #Kan-E-Senna #Merlwyb

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enavance · 3 years

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hi i’m here to once again start a discussion / meta about a song that i relate to cherry. on this episode, we’re pulling apart falling in reverse’s popular monster. some of the lyrics are hit or miss because you know obviously this is based on ronnie’s own experiences, but some of the lyrics are really suited to cherry and i’ll bold the relevant lines as i go or omit things as needed.

also holy shit this is like over 1600 words, not including the lyrics of course, and . . . congratulations if u read this jkbdfbkvd

i wake up every morning with my head up in a daze i'm not sure if i should say this, fuck, i'll say it anyway everybody tries to tell me that i'm goin' through a phase i don't know if it's a phase, i just wanna feel okay, yeah i battle with depression, but the question still remains is this post-traumatic stressin' or am i suppressin' rage? and my doctor tries to tell me that i'm going through a phase yeah, it's not a fuckin' phase, i just wanna feel okay

okay, yeah, i struggle with this bullshit every day and it's probably 'cause my demons simultaneously rage it obliterates me, disintegrates me, annihilates me

cherry has always been hot - tempered since she was younger, but now as she’s grown and grown into her role as the warrior of light and coupled with all of the things she has endured from the beginning of her journey to where she is now. she lived a relatively peaceful life until imperial garlean forces invaded her village and uprooted her life and destroyed everything she once knew and forced her to make anew. cherry struggles with severe depression and ptsd, and much of that contributes to her trauma response and why she’s so quick to lash out in a form of a defense mechanism.

'cause i'm about to break down i'm searchin' for a way out i'm a liar, i'm a cheater, i'm a non-believer i'm a popular, popular monster i break down falling into love now with falling apart i'm a popular, popular monster

with everything cherry goes through, it’s a wonder she hasn’t snapped completely yet, but she has come so, so, so close so many times. she is self - destructive in her coping methods, whether intentionally or not. sometimes she realizes and notices her harmful coping methods, sometimes she doesn’t, but her mindset is that if she’s not hurting anyone else, it’s fine.

however, what she doesn’t realize is that her distance and cold shouldering and keeping people at arms length is hurtful because people are just trying to be there for her, but she won’t allow them to due to her debilitating fear of allowing anyone to come near her, physically or emotionally, and risk them forming an attachment to her and vice versa.

she doesn’t want someone to feel hurt or pain in losing her and having to mourn her. cherry is a serial escapist in that she will disappear for months at a time and wander off looking for the most dangerous jobs, not only because she needs the money and thrives off of the adrenaline and that she has an inherently reckless nature, but it’s that deep - rooted self - destructiveness.

i think i'm going nowhere like a rat trapped in a maze every wall that i knock down is just a wall that i'll replace i'm in a race against myself, i try to keep a steady pace how the fuck will i escape if i never close my case? oh my god, i keep on stressin', every second that i waste is another second sooner to a blessing i won't take

cherry doesn’t see herself as a hero. to a degree, she understands that it’s not her choice whether or not she is seen as a hero. other people will call her one regardless based on her accomplishments and achievements and decorated contributions to the preservation of eorzea and the shard as a whole. as vain as she is, and as much as she boasts of her strength as a warrior, which she takes quite a bit of pride in, she’s surprisingly somewhat humble when it comes to being seen as a hero that people look to for light in the darkness and idolize. she just sees nothing special in it because of how many people still die, how many things are still lost and destroyed. her own pessimism stops her from feeling positively towards any association with being a hero. she doesn’t want to be celebrated or praised, but she won’t be mad if someone compliments her skills and says she’s strong.

cherry is an extremely guarded person and this is something i discuss at length with her keeping extremely tall and thick walls up to protect herself and the people around her due to her life experiences and the trauma she has been through from before ARR to where she is now post - SHB. she’s afraid of letting anyone in. she’s afraid of caring about people, despite the fact that she does because deep down she is caring and kind and soft and she just can’t help herself. she tries to convince herself that she’s not as close to some people as she thinks, but she is and it would kill her to lose anyone else. and deep down, cherry knows that it’s much the same for her friends as well, that it’s too late, that they do care about her and someone will be there to mourn and grieve her and she hates that. this is why she flinches at softness, any soft gesture or touch or kindness, even more so when it comes to romantic avenues. she will run and run and run until she’s sure you’ve given up on pursuing her. much of this is also tied into the fact that caring about someone is a weakness to a fault because an enemy can sniff that out and use that against her. they could take someone that she cares about and use them as leverage or kill them or hurt them to get to her and she is so deeply afraid of that most of all.

cherry refuses help constantly. she shoulders everything and is the first to volunteer to do anything dangerous. she makes her own recklessly stupid and dangerous plans and rushes in headfirst without much thought. she is stubborn and will insist on doing everything herself, even the most menial tasks. she doesn’t want to look weak, not that she is or that anyone even thinks that of her, but she doesn’t want it to appear to anyone that she has any weaknesses because she doesn’t want them to be turned against her. she refuses help that would otherwise be blessings to make her life easier.

okay, motherfucker, now you got my attention i need to change a couple things 'cause somethin' is missing and what if i were to lie? tell you everything is fine every single fucking day i get closer to the grave i am terrified, i fell asleep at the wheel again crashed my car just to feel again it obliterates me, disintegrates me, annihilates me

cherry is as honest as they come. perhaps too honest, sometimes. however, when it comes to her own wellbeing, she will lie to fool others into thinking that she’s fine so that they don’t worry about her. she doesn’t want to be worried or fussed over, and most of all, she doesn’t want to add to anyone else’s stress or make them waste their time with her. cherry doesn’t take very good care of herself, physically or emotionally or mentally. she barrels into danger without thought, is impulsive, extremely reckless, and she doesn’t talk about her feelings to anyone or discuss the traumatic events that happened to her with anyone. i think the only people she may have opened up to are haurchefant, maybe thancred on occasion, ardbert because she’s fine talking to him because her logic is “ who is he going to tell ? no one else can see him, ” maybe aymeric but never wholly in detail, and maybe estinien. cherry is terrified of opening up to people. she doesn’t care if people see her as being awful or anything, but she’s afraid of being seen as vulnerable and having all of those parts of her open and raw.

she’s not actively suicidal or anything or ever thinking about dying. in fact, she’s deathly afraid of dying because of the people who care about her and because the fate of the world rests on her shoulders. she doesn’t want anyone to ever feel the pain she did losing her loved ones. she doesn’t want them to mourn her. she doesn’t want to risk the dying of this star just because there’s so much at stake and so many people and the world depending on her success and her being alive.

still, despite that, despite knowing that and that being an enormous fear of hers, that doesn’t stop her from being reckless. she is extremely self - destructive and impulsive and doesn’t think too much, if at all, before committing to something, even if it’s an extremely bad idea. she does do harmful and self - destructive things just to feel things, hence her being somewhat of an adrenaline addict and chasing danger and diving headfirst into fights or battles and facing off with dangerous people, even if outnumbered. she revels in danger and the feeling of adrenaline rushes and actively being battered and bruised in a fight. she probably would crash a car, honestly, just to feel something that is beyond the despondence and depression that she’s come to know post - shb.

yeah, here we go again, motherfucker, oh we're sick and tired of wondering praying to a god that you don't believe you're searching for the truth in the lost and found so the question i ask is, yeah, where the fuck is your god now?

and by the end of shb, knowing the things that she knows of hydaelyn and zodiark, she’s extremely jaded and even more pessimistic than she was to begin with. in the beginning, she didn’t know what she was coming into, when joining the fray with the scions and learning of her own abilities with the echo and hydaelyn’s will and her involvement. as time passes and hydaelyn’s absence becomes more noticeable, she begins to feel abandoned, and she wonders if hydaelyn is simply content to allow the shard to die and with it, its people.

even upon learning of the mother crystal’s weakness in strength, learning the truth of everything, the forming of the worlds and hydaelyn and zodiark being primals, she begins to heavily distrust hydaelyn and wonders if everything had been a lie. what else had hydaelyn hidden from her ? what else was a lie ? cherry has never been religious, not really, and she wonders if the gods are really out there. hydaelyn certainly isn’t the god they all thought she was — she is a primal. they have placed their faith and worship in a primal who disappeared and left them in darkness and silence.

cherry is left in a pretty fragile state come the end of shb. she has lost so much more, and she feels as though she managed to accomplish nothing despite everything that she has had a hand in doing. there is always something else, always something more, and she feels as though it’s never going to end and she is exhausted. she will never tire of helping people, not truly, but she feels such an emptiness within her and i really think that losing anyone else important to her, specifically people like thancred, the twins, estinien, aymeric, she is really going to spiral harder than ever before and i really don’t know how cherry would come out of it in one piece.

#hc.#long post -#uh ask to tag ?#self harm -#kind of ????#suicide mention -#just in case #shb spoilers -#u get 500 cookies if u manage to read through this kdjfbvd #i didnt mean for this to be this long but like idk!#this song really speaks to me about cherry #this is actually quite an important hc djkbfvfd #i'll post her playlist someday if i ever finish it #not that it'll ever be finish #it'll always be a continuous wip but u know

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alannah-corvaine · 4 years

Text

the big ‘so you’ve found my blog’ post;

So. The follow button has led you to me, and now here you are with me on your dash. I assume you’re here for one to three reasons: the ffxiv content I post and reblog, my character(s), and/or the aesthetic content. Possibly also my riveting commentary on why ffxiv hasn’t added a sidebraid hairstyle yet. You’re all valid and welcome here.

Maybe you’re curious about me and my OCs, but you don’t want to go digging through my blog and the absolute mess of tags I’ve amassed over the years. I’m here to present a half-assed solution to your curiosity instead of fixing my tags in any sort of meaningful way.

WHO RUNS THIS BLOG?

I’m Alicia, I run this circus.

she/her pronouns, I’m cis.

I’m 31 years old at the time of writing this post.

This blog is 5 going on 6 years old.

If you see @alannahcorvaine that blog is also me but I don’t use it anymore, as it’s a sideblog and I moved over to this blog years ago.

I’ve been playing FFXIV since 2015.

I also play Elder Scrolls Online and World of Warcraft and have separate blogs for related OCs, content, and aesthetics.

I’m a cat person but I also love dogs.

I have a five year old black cat named Kilala who keeps me in line.

I’m not much of a people person, I’m made of anxiety and paperclips.

I yell into the void a lot, the void being my blog.

I don’t really RP outside of spectacularly outstanding circumstances these days, but character and world building are my jam.

Even if I don’t RP, I’m always down for character connections and relationships. I’m totally up for brainstorming and bouncing around headcanons.

Most of the time in game you’ll find me either standing around my house or out in the world taking screenshots. My mailing address is gpose.

I have a full roster of 8 characters on Balmung, but currently only 3 are active. You’ll probably see screenshots of the others too from time to time.

THE OCs

A L A N N A H C O R V A I N E

Your first assumption on seeing my blog name is that it’s probably the name of the titular OC that this blog focuses on. You would be correct. All of my OCs have their own blogs, however I am infinitely lazy and just end up posting screenshots of everyone here because this is where the followers are and the sideblogs end up being used as aesthetic warehouses. Anywhoo, here’s some need-to-knows about Alannah.

Alannah has two main verses: Warrior of Light and Non-WoL.

Her non-WoLverse is actually the primary one, but with Shadowbringers I’ve been focusing more on her WoL story.

I also have an infinite amount of AU verses for her based on various media but nobody has time for me to list all of those.

In both verses she’s a White Mage, a capable healer, but focuses more on offensive elemental spells (wind, water, earth).

Alannah is my only OC with a Warrior of Light verse.

She’s 23 years old.

She has severe allergies to grass, pollen, dust, dander, and certain foods.

Her allergy reactions are largely kept at bay by a delicate chain diadem made and blessed by padjal. It also helps correct her shitty vision, magic is great.

Her deepest fears include deep water and phurbles.

She has four older brothers: Faron, Ean, Davon, and Brennan.

Family issues. Just so many family issues. That’s an entire post on its own.

Her hair is dark brown, not black. I cannot state this emphatically enough no matter what my edits look like.

The white streaks are magical scars, the cause of them vary by verse.

Non-WoL Alannah is married to Nine Outway, they have a three-year old daughter named Aislinn.

Warrior of Light Alannah (hereafter known as WoLannah) I ship exclusively with dead ghost boyfriend Ardbert.

Deep-seated anger issues buried beneath a placid and friendly exterior.

Her aether is just irreparably borked and highly chaotic and is controlled via her staff and arcane symbols painted onto her arms in aether ink.

Her childhood dream was to be a powerful thaumaturge, which didn’t work out with her aether control issues.

R E B E C C A “B R I N A” C R O S S ( @thesilentcygnet )

26 years old.

Born to a moderately wealthy Limsan merchant family.

2 older sisters: Pippa and Lacy.

Jacke Swallow (of rogues guild fame) is her best friend (and secret love) since childhood.

Her entire family was murdered when she was 16 because her father made shady deals with the wrong people and owed them money.

She’s been mute since the day of the massacre after witnessing the murders while hiding in the cellar beneath their feet.

She’s been staying with Jacke and his cohorts in the Dutiful Sisters of the Edelweiss since then, though he’s the only one that knows her true identity.

A long chain of events has lead to her being kidnapped from Kugane, shipwrecked off the coast of Othard twice, sucked into a magical whirlpool, and left stranded on the First.

Will she ever get home? Perhaps, when I’ve finally decided that her ridiculous journey has been Odyssean enough.

K H I A R N A K H A ( @khi-tastrophe )

29 years old.

An incandescent ball of unquenchable rage, probably for valid reasons.

The daughter of the khan of a minor offshoot of the Kha tribe.

Had a twin sister named Khiela, who pretended to be kidnapped by an aggressive suitor and lead Khiarna on a wild goose chase across Eorzea in an attempt to find her.

Khiela and her lover conspired to and succeeded in murdering her father.

Khiarna returned to Othard and murdered the shit out of both of them in retaliation for killing her father.

She was then unanimously chosen as her father’s successor and currently reigns as khatun to the nomadic merchant tribe.

While traveling across Eorzea in search of her errant sister, Khi was involved in a relationship with a pathological liar, which has severely damaged her ability to trust people (on top of her family drama).

Currently in a relationship with Sidirahg of the Sixth ( @sidirahg ), who has the patience of a saint with her issues and also might be a masochist.

Khi is a shaman and uses a mix of conjury and pugilism in combat.

She covers her fists and feet in a solid layer of rock and then lights them on fire, using a combination of speed, flexibility, and disorienting blows to fell her opponents.

COMMON TAGS I USE

#alannah aesthetic - aesthetic tag.

#screenshots - tag for unedited screenshots of my characters.

#edits - tag for screenshot edits done by me.

#drabbles - tag for writing done by me.

#about alannah - tag for character profile memes, ask replies, relevant quotes.

#art of alannah - tag for art i’ve commissioned of Alannah.

#commissions - tag for art i’ve commissioned that also includes my other OCs.

#lanna things - tag for posts relevant to Alannah.

#9 - tag for posts related to Nine Outway.

#familial faultlines - tag for all of Alannah’s family issues.

#benedictions]&[bulletholes - ship tag for Alannah and Nine (contains screenshots, quotes, and aesthetic inspiration).

#the gravity of guilt - sub-B&B ship tag referencing events at the ruins of Nym.

#scars of nym - another B&B tag because I don’t have enough of them.

#otp: as one fool to another - ship tag for WoLannah and Ardbert

#AU: Warrior of Light - WoLannah tag.

#AU: Gloriana - tag for the AU in which Alannah goes power mad / angry at the world and misuses her magic to become an unstoppable force of destruction.

#AU: Dark Sunrise - tag for the AU in which Nine perma-dies and Alannah sells her soul to the darkness.

#keeper’s captain - ship tag for Brina and Jacke.

#boyfriend adjust - ship tag for Khi and Sid.

#tbd - tag for me yelling into the void that I pretend I’ll delete later.

OTHER BLOGS

@eastofean - ffxiv aesthetic inspo blog for Ean Corvaine.

@aether-and-ash - ffxiv aesthetic inspo blog for Aislinn Outway.

@blacklacelullaby - ffxiv aesthetic inspo blog for Katja Iryut.

@cleric-stance - salty healer memes.

@sundownsanctuary - nsfw aesthetic inspo blog.

@lannahlearnsart - my hoard of digital art tutorials.

@halion - general World of Warcraft blog and inspo for my WoW OCs.

@veil-of-blades - ESO inspo blog for various Elder Scrolls OCs.

@theviciousnothing - my personal aesthetic blog.

�� PARTING NOTES

You’ve done it, you’ve reached the end of this post. All of this is just a basic overview of me and my characters, if you ever have any questions about anything please feel free to drop me an ask or a DM any time. Thanks for following. ♥

#behind the blog #pinned post

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inviouswriting · 4 years

Text

A Price For Love.

Got to talking with @candideangel about Kivera meeting G’raha Tia.

It would most likely happen in transition between probably before the final fight in 5.3

Obvious spoilers for shadowbringers and 5.3 patch. Not there yet? Don’t read this.

Also has @maiden-born-in-snow ‘s and mines polyship. May have gotten deep and fluffy in spots. and @meepsthemiqo ‘s character mentioned too.

G’raha knew his time was getting closer, it was a matter of literal time before he could act on his role. He was climbing stairs slower than those that raced to fight Elidibus. He rounded another corner only to be greeted with a face he had seen before, and hoped he never had to interact with.

“You know what you’re doing changes so much. Right?” G’raha has seen her around Shuri, he had a sense of dread every time he was around her. Like a creeping death. Kivera.

“A little more time.”

“That is not what I am here for yet, and by the way things are looking. You might just escape me again.” She is death, in the form of a miqo like him, but in full black, and sitting on her scythe like a witch. G’raha Tia is confused to her words.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh? You don’t know? The soul transferring. The whole plan to save those scion members?” They were statements more than questions, reminders of what he had been working for.

“Aye.”

“So, I’ve come to you because things are being rewritten as we speak. However. Nothing is quite free.” He is confused to her words.

“To chase a new life, with the memories you have. My world needs something in exchange.” Kivera folds her arms across her chest.

“I am content to die here though.”

“You would say that, yet it seems fate has other options for you.” Kivera looks at her hand as she speaks to him. She had to carry out what was in motion. Green eyes stare at G’raha.

“Are you truly resigned to death then? You don’t seem the type. The whole bravado back with Hades when Innocence was dying. Elaborate plot to abandon this world for in favor of greener pastures.” She catches the surprise in his face.

“How do you know of that?”

“What am I.”

The Exarch knows what she is, one of the reasons she is visible is to those about to die.

“So what do you want of me?”

“I already told you. Your fate has changed, and I am no longer here for you. Well in a way. This body is dying. Your soul however. Isn’t. Then again a soul doesn’t really die unless devoured.” Kivera rambles as she kills her time.

“What would I have to offer?” There is a brief change in her eyes from green to orange. Annoyance.

“I swear women are less complicated than men. I need something from you to carry out this change. Your transfer requires an exchange, something of a payment. What are you willing to give up?” She asks, and G’raha thinks about it.

“The memories of my old self in the Crystal Tower?” Kivera raises an eyebrow to this.

“Smart one. Sometimes.” He scoffs at her.

“Smart people don’t die.” She interjects.

“Thus why you get yet another shot at a life. So in exchange for your life here, you sacrifice the memories and basically the life of your young self still sleeping away for this path?” Kivera hops off her scythe and walks up to him, he feels small compared to her, she was a bit taller than him.

What unnerved him was her eyes. A vibrant green but cold there was no warmth in her eyes. Not from what he has seen her gaze directed at people like Shuri and Meeps. When she stares at him he feels like he is looking at exactly what she is. Death.

“I accept those terms if that is what fate has in order.” He sees her tug out a scroll and from the left white wing she pulls a feather from it. She crosses his name out replacing it with the name he uses in The First as Crystal Exarch. He is one of the few to see how the ink seems alive, feathery as she writes.

“For the sake of Angelique, no more time meddling. That girl loves you more than you realize.” She turns away from him to begin up the stairs towards the fight.

“Wait? Kiv-”

“You will not call me by my name, you do not have permission yet. Reaper works.” She cuts him off from using her name.

“Reaper. What of this life then?”

“You already know. Can’t change what is already in motion. This life here does come to an end. Now. I am busy.” She is regretful in the next one she does have to take.

G’raha sees her again, after the exchange is over with Elidibus. She remains unnoticed to the rest of the group, not interfering with the events as they play out. It is after he is turned crystal that he senses her in front of him.

“As promised, this life has ended, but this soul is far from done. Memories from the past to be replaced with the future.” Then there is nothing, at least until he wakes from his stasis in Crystal Tower. Angelique had brought the vessel, and is the first sight he sees. Kindness and warmth in his soul at a face he loves.

He doesn’t forget glancing to the side and seeing Kivera once as she flits from the tower waving him off.

Kivera had returned to Shuri’s home by this point exhausted she had resigned herself to curl up between Divinity and Shuri. Finding their touches less offensive she did not want to be touched by men and Ardbert and Estinien understand this mood from her. She favors the girls a tad more, her excuse is they’re softer.

“So I take the exchange went well then?” Ardbert prods at the reaper for answers. He is met with Kivera sinking her face further into Shuri’s hair while Divinity winds her arms more around her from behind.

“That miqo should be up and running around in a few weeks. Along with your scion friends.” Kivera presses her face against one of Shuri’s horns rubbing her cheek to it in the manner she had learned when she dons her auri form. Divinity rests her head on top of Kivera’s knowing her tired nature from doing her role.

“He- could be a friend to you too.” Kivera wrinkles her nose a bit.

“Maybe in time, but that boy has made me break some taboos.”

“Wait you said that it was ordained by fate... You mean you stepped in?” Estinien knows her disdain for interfering. He is met with a grin from her.

“I have a soft spot for real love. I also know what it is like to lose someone to twisted fate.” He remembers her memories she had shared of Damien.

“And you say you are this cold-hearted being.” Ardbert feels a sense of proud in her for doing something right.

“I am cold-hearted. I just pick and choose what I want to see happen. Lest we forget my alignment.” She raises a hand to shoo them off.

“You are done asking me questions. I’d prefer some quiet.” Kivera sees the men look at her questioning. Estinien tugs Ardbert off to grant Kivera what she asks for.

“She’ll answer us when she is in a better mood.”

“She really spared him.” Ardbert was more amazed at how she boasts so much about her conforming to her role. Yet here she was, breaking that role for a friend.

Angelique chances across Kivera after a few days. Seeing her at night in Mor Dhona. She sees her sitting on the edge of a ledge.

“It’s nice to see you for a change.” Kivera lowers her eyes a bit.

“It is, how is he?” She inquires to G’raha’s health.

“He’s up and running around already. Poor Krile though I think she is about to drop.” Kivera listens to her, hearing the amusement in her voice with a brief smile of her own.

“Good. Cherish him. He earns your love.” Kivera tucks her legs underneath herself, and Angelique sees a moment of vulnerability from the elusive reaper.

“I do cherish him, thank you.. back there.” A brief flit in Kivera’s eyes from their green to a yellow.

“Angelique!” G’raha finds her, and when the blonde turns away from Kivera she waves to him. When she looks back Kivera has disappeared again.

“Talking to someone?” He asks, seeing her look surprised.

“I forget she does that. I was, but she left.” Angelique answers a little bewildered, and G’raha figures out who.

“She’s still mad at me?”

“I don’t think she is mad, just keeping her distance.” This seemed to satisfy him for now.

“So there is a chance she’ll come around.” He wants to make peace with the reaper, but even he knows from seeing her, she picks and chooses who she wants to be around. The men he’s noticed are less compared to the women.

“It takes time.” Angelique reminds him, and they both turn to head off towards Gridania. When his head was turned he felt something ice cold and wet hit the back of his head. He turns his head and is met with another water ball. Angelique is surprised at the magic and looks for the source.

Kivera takes a shot at her as well, only with her warm water hits instead of the ice cold that she pelted G’raha with. They both manage to see her a few feet above them at a distance. Mischief in her gold eyes.

“I think that answers our question.” Angelique laughs seeing how she had messed G’raha’s hair with water. She herself wipes the water from her face. G’raha shakes his head, and glances at their supernatural friend.

“Are we even yet?”

“No. Far from it. Don’t you have places to be?” She lowers her eyes a little and magic on her fingertips ready to summon another set of water at him.

“We were about to leave till ack!” Another cold water ball thrown at him.

“Why throw water at me?!”

“Why not.” Kivera readies another one, a wild grin on her lips as she makes the miqo dance a bit with a few well aimed water balls. Angelique watches this exchange and it makes her wonder what exactly he did to earn her ire like this. A hand places itself on her shoulder, and she sees Estinien.

“She’s in a good mood. Looks like she is accepting him.”

“A good thing right?”

“If she didn’t like him, he wouldn’t be here.” His attention turns to Kivera.

“Go easy on him, he’s still recovering.”

“It is why I am using water. Unless he is secretly allergic to it like a normal cat.” Kivera pipes up and Estinien sees she is about done with it. A few more barrages of water thrown at him, and she lands next to G’raha.

G’raha eyes her wearily.

“Was that necessary?” Kivera looks him over and uses her base element of fire to dry him off.

“It was.” G’raha fidgets with his hands, looking down. Kivera can see what he is about to say, and before he can muster an apology. She flicks his nose.

“I don’t want an apology for something you didn’t do. Just don’t do anything stupid to make that one cry? Then we’ll call it even yes?” G’raha looks over to Angelique and nods after holding his nose.

Kivera goes over to Estinien’s side, she gives one more look to G’raha before she flits once and disappears back to Shuri’s home.

“Are you sure she was in a good mood?”

“She was, she’s a bit of a trickster when she is in high spirits. She’s constantly pulling pranks on Ardbert. And myself. So trust me, she is in a good mood.” He recalls the time Kivera and Shuri ganged up on him with, Shuri being sweet to him in front while Kivera stuck ice cold hands on his back.

“We should get going. Meeps did want to see us.” Angelique reminds him, and knows not to keep Estinien too long. They go their separate ways.

Kivera lingers a bit on the roof of the house, truly questioning her place in this world. She looks at one of the several multi colored feathers she had gained. She had grown several of them for the realms she had traveled and lives she had spared instead of taking them. Her own mind muddled with after thoughts of whether she is doing right by letting things happen with mild interferences.

She saw the grief-stricken Meeps, she had seen how the remains of what was Lillith separated from Shuri, she has seen how fate gave Ardbert to her, bound her even. This world she is in, is full of things, the biggest is how many she watches overthrow cosmos and fate again and again.

She saw how Kiya excitedly ran back to Ishgard to see Aymeric. How she envied her a little in her pure self. Hecate would be happy with her new life if she could remember. Gaining her own knight to love.

Kivera lost in her own thoughts for once doesn’t notice the hand reaching to the middle of her back. A single finger runs down the middle of her spine between her wings. Kivera reacts by jumping and turning to see Shuri. Her wings poofed up in the manor of a scared owl even her tail puffed a bit, and eyes wide and white, then flash down to pink looking away.

“You’ve been up here ever since you got back. Everything alright?” Shuri notes she managed to startle her, and opens up her arms for her to come into them. Kivera glowers brief at being startled, then finds her way to rest her head on Shuri’s lap.

“Just thinking, do I truly belong with you and yours?” Kivera closes her eyes.

“You do, even if you don’t feel it. Something happened?” She catches on, she knew Kivera went to check on Angelique.

“G’raha. He saved so many lives, yet at the cost of..” She sighs trying not to let what is beyond her means get to her now.

“You did say it yourself, fate has other plans for him, and you have yet to really intervene with what is in motion. As for feeling of where you belong. You belong here with us.” It takes Kivera a moment to think about it, she is still scared of getting close to this group more for the lives they lead. Any day she could be the one that has to claim them, she’d steal them to her realm first.

Green eyes flicker a soft blue then settle to gold with a tinge of deep blue at the centers. Shuri sees this, thinking of ways to ease her, settling on petting through her hair the way she has seen Divinity does. Kivera accepts her affections and curls in closer to her.

She doesn’t need everyone to understand her nature, just the ones she loves. Even if she must be harsh with a few, she hopes her actions can be forgiven by those she must remain distant with.

Kivera was in a light sleep when another person shows up. Ardbert sits next to Shuri and looks over the reaper strewn across her lap. Kivera has her face pressed to her abdomen close to the bump where she is able to detect life. She is half curled around Shuri protective. She herself was denied this life and ability to experience children. She can at least chase a dream of being a secondary parent where she is wanted as one.

“Such a fearsome one she is.” He says teasing, he sees an ear twitch in his direction.

“She can be, not to me though.” Ardbert chances a touch along Kivera’s back, his hand drifting to her right wing, her black one. Hand smoothing through the feathers finding them softer than most silk he’s touched. One of the few times the reaper does not find his touch offensive.

“A summon came for her.” He says quietly, enough for Shuri to raise a little concern.

“From who?” Kivera turns her head, a yellow eye cracks open.

“Kiya.” Kivera closes her eye again with a sigh.

“I’ll see her when the time is right. I think I know what it is about.” Ardbert drifts his hand to her left wing but feels her shrug his hand away from it. Shuri feels her tense up and looks over to Ardbert shaking her head no. Fingers card through Kivera’s hair again to sooth her a bit.

Ardbert looks Kivera over, wondering what in her changed to make her bristle. She was still getting use to him, and he wanted to earn more of her own affection in the way she shows the others. He let’s it roll off of him, and lets Kivera have her space.

“You both should come down soon, for food and Estinien worries with you up here Shuri.”

“We’ll come down soon.” Kivera confirms, and raises her gaze to Ardbert. A brief glimpse of purple tints her irises then back to green.

He leaves them be, and it isn’t much longer till they both get down, Kivera using her ability to fly to transport the auri down. Kivera finds Divinity after making sure Shuri is within her husband’s care.

Divinity keeps her eyes closed as she takes over comforts on her soulbound lover. Remembering the time when Kivera did this for her. Ardbert approaches again, finding how Divinity seems more at ease with her leader resting on her now.

“She doesn’t like her left messed with does she?” He keeps his voice low.

“It’s a painful reminder for her. What she use to be.” Divinity feels Kivera tense at hearing her talk about her. One of her hands rests on top of her head ressuring.

“She use to be of the heavens right?”

“She use to. She did show you her memories right?” Ardbert was shown them once, they were shown fast to where some of them were hard to make out, ones that were clearly painful to her.

“Aye, I was.” He rather the answers come from them about it, he was shown, but not told much.

“The white one is what remains of that time she spent in Caelum. They do wish to have her back.” Divinity feels a hand dig into her thigh and she ignores it.

“But she doesn’t want to go back.” Ardbert sees her bristle again.

“Correct. They threw her out like she was nothing. You understand that feeling right? What it means to have the height of glory then thrown out like you mean nothing. Name dragged through the dirt. That was her in that lifetime. All because she fell in love with a demon.” Ardbert sees Divinity swat Kivera’s head for biting her leg. Ardbert can see Kivera’s eyes a dark blue, a color he rarely sees.

Kivera’s ears flatten to her head, she was about to leave until she feels Divinity’s hand press at the middle of her back to stay.

“You showed him those memories. You know that they’re common memories in this house if you did. I know they’re painful, but he should hear the causes of why you choose your way now.” Divinity heals herself of the bite. She keeps a hand through her hair. The Libra spirit looks up towards Ardbert, he notes how both of her own eyes are gold in color.

“If this is too much for her to reveal..”

“You’re bound to know. You know of Damien. You know her feelings surrounding him, in how he was lost to her.” He nods at her question.

“Good, what were your feelings when she showed you those memories?” Divinity holds Kivera still having her lay on her stomach with her face fully buried into her abdomen.

“Heartache. I felt like I was losing someone I loved. I too have shared a pain like that.” Divinity nods.

“Now be the one that deals the death to that loved one.” Ardbert recalls that one. Seeing Kivera take the life of Damien was hard for him, he couldn’t comprehend what ran through her or the thought if something like that came to him towards Shuri.

“But forgive my way of asking, but what does that have to do with her not returning?”

“Because Caelum offered her to return after his death. Before she spoke to Kronos. After she sent Vanth into the underworld. They offered her, her position back, after the love of her life was taken from her. As a way of saying “The source of your sin is gone, come back to us.” She was just grieving and they threw what she followed into her face. As if he was nothing but what held her down.” Kivera by this point had wrapped her arms around Divinity’s waist face fully buried into her stomach.

“So now... she denies it every chance...” Ardbert understands now.

“She’s a fallen, but has the chance of redemption. Yet scorns it because of what they’ve done to her in the beginning. She loved Damien. Just as she loves the people here and strives hard to protect them. Whether you see her in action. She broke taboo for alot of you and yours recently. Because she ouch! Damn it Kivera!” Divinity grabs the reaper’s tail and pulls it to get her to quit biting her stomach. She felt her fangs dig in this time.

“Because she actually loves alot of you!” She finishes her sentence and glowers down at Kivera who glares back up through bright pink eyes. Ardbert’s first time seeing the color.

“What? Did I embarrass you? You felt the need to bite me over it?” Ardbert sees Divinity pull Kivera over and pin her down. The taller woman easily keeping her pinned as she kicks her feet out. He notes how she keeps her hands together and pinned above her head.

“Need any help with her?” Shuri pokes her head in at hearing all the commotion of Kivera being somewhat handled rough. She was sitting outside the room they were in listening in on the conversation. She had been shown personally and shared more intimate details to Kivera. She felt a swarm of emotions run through her at hearing how Divinity speaks of what she had lost and why she has no desire to return to the heavens.

“I think I could use your help if it isn’t straining on you at all.” Divinity takes both hands now and rubs at Kivera’s wrists. Shuri sees the reaper restrained in a way where she can dote on her. She grins at her as her hands land on her sides. Instead of rubbing them, she lays on top of Kivera pinning her to Divinity.

Ardbert takes the hint that any further conversation is over for now. He hears laughter follow the girls together, specially once the twins ran in and jumped on the women.

Shuri glances at Kivera, seeing life back into her green eyes. Divinity takes a moment to inspect the bite she got on her stomach and heals it before anyone else sees them. She returns and eyes Kivera who is pinned under children and lovers now. Resigned to her fate. Freya taking up most of her right wing’s space while Lexan in her left wing.

She is beside herself in all these faces showing her she belongs that she looks to Divinity who leans over her to let her bury her face into her chest and conceal her tears. Overwhelmed in her emotions at those who care so deeply for her.

“You belong here.” Shuri reminds Kivera, and lets her feel her emotions that she keeps suppressed. Estinien tugs Ardbert in with him, to assist the girls helping Shuri up and announcing that meals were ready.

Kivera lingers with Divinity, glancing up at her from her spot.

Divinity glances down giving her the same kind smile she has always given to her since the pyre.

“We’ll be in, in a few.” Divinity assures them, and cards her fingers through Kivera’s hair again.

“You are loved more than you know and want to be shown.” Divinity is at face level with Kivera who seeks her in a moment and shares a kiss with her.

“Thank you... even though you didn’t have to tell Ardbert all of that.”

“At the rate you go, it would snow in Thanalan before you’d tell anyone.” She is shoved briefly and Kivera goes to join the others with Divinity in tow.

“You are worth it all.” Divinity murmurs under her breath.

#angelique #Kivera Siverstein #polyship with shuri #shuri fontaye #Kivera x Divinity x Shuri #ardbert #ff14 ardbert #ffxiv estinien #estinien #G'raha Tia #g'raha tia x angelique #estinien wyrmblood #meepsthemiqo #angsty

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three-fulm-thaumaturd · 4 years

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Some scattershot, in-no-particular-order, potentially-spoilery thoughts about Shadowbringers, now that I’m at about 5.2:

The environmental design, the music, et cetera are lovely here! Combine that with the thing where your situation at the beginning is worse in some ways than it was at the beginning of 3.0 and *escalates* and, wow. Everything very much supports the mood of a world on the brink of annihilation. The changes in WoL’s relationships with familiar characters add to the tension and the sense of loss. From a narrative construction standpoint I dig it, even while, empathizing with my character, it was tough to have all of my comfort characters literally sequestered away on a different world.

The little parallels to familiar places and people on the Source are great for making the First feel like “the bad Mirror Universe,” and that was pretty great. Beating up Vauthry in November 2020 has some particular, interesting resonance.

Strix is max-level ALC, and some ways through the DRK storyline, et cetera. I knew that Natsuko Ishikawa’s writing was front and center for ShB, so I was like “Okay, this is going to be another story about people catastrophically wrecking shit due to their fundamental inability to accept change/loss/grief.” Welp.

I expected the story to make me sympathize with Emet-Selch (after coming in already oversaturated to the point of antipathy from tumblr) and it...really super did not. Then again, I’m the kid who derailed BritLit classes by asking why the Earnshaws didn’t just kill Heathcliff rather than letting him completely destroy three generations worth of two families, so I am super not the intended target audience for this Gothic Romance in video game clothes to begin with.

I did not expect the story to make me care about Ardbert and the Warriors of Darkness after they spend parts of two prior expansions being an annoyance, boy howdy, though, they did. Cerigg is somehow one of the best dads in a series jammed full of surrogate parents. Lamitt’s monologue at the end of the healer role quest was as if someone was reading Strix a cargo manifest for the contents of her own heart.

Speaking of surrogate parents, I don’t love that you never really get to address Thancred taking his grief over Minfilia’s loss out on Ryne, and how unearned his “parental” moments with her after his burly brawl with Ran’jit feel. I kind of want to hug him and fastball special him into the sun simultaneously.

I’ve officially run out of colormage levels, and have picked up SCH/SMN and AST in the mean time! The combat difficulty curve is getting markedly steeper, and I have some anxiety that we’re eventually gonna hit a point where it’s tough for me to access more story because I’m a mediocre gamer at best and the spatial reasoning you need for complicated AOE dodges in particular is always gonna be tough for me. Friends have been lovely and supportive/encouraging, so I will knuckle under and keep practicing.

#ffxiv #noob squad don't read

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home-halone · 4 years

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Weight of the World

AO3 // Being called the Warrior of Light carries a burden no one could ever fully grasp— save for one.

This one’s for the tiny pool of content for Ardbert stans, so here’s my contribution to the ghost bf.

----

As soon as she had the solitude and privacy of her own quarters, Caesia shut the doors behind her and slumped against them for support.

“Oh, fuck,” she exhaled, sinking onto the floor.

Her carbuncle leapt onto her lap and curled up in her arms. She glanced down at him, scratching his ears lightly.

“We’ve really got it going for us now. Twelve fuck me.”

Despite the warmth and kindness shown by the elusive Crystal Exarch, Caesia felt as though she held her breath from the minute she had arrived. She set Crouton aside and attempted to gather herself, but found that her knees buckled underneath her weight. The journey might have left her worse for wear, but it was her mind that wore her down.

Too much had been said too quickly, too casually for her to process. That an eternal nightless sky hangs aloft. That her friends yet live. That she had been designated the savior of a star unknown to her. That the flow of time may or may not be on her side while Eorzea is without its champion. It was in these moments she found herself missing friends she trusted implicitly.

But in the First, she had no one.

Her impulse was to set out and search for the Scions—some of whom had not seen her in five summers. The time she had possibly thought them at death’s door on the Source could not even compare to the twins’ twelvemoon on this shard. And yet Caesia had lost countless nights of sleep all the same. But there was no telling what could happen and how much time would pass if she would stay for a reunion, much less stay to rid the First of its ails.

The cutting tension between the Alliance and the Empire had frayed what little peace could be found in Eorzea. And each passing moment she spent away threatened to sway it in Garlemald’s favor. Everything she held dear could be lost in a war in her absence.

She pulled her knees to her chest. The very thought made her wince.

The entire ordeal had been so draining and disorienting that she had taken everything at face value. Who could even say that the Exarch had been truthful at all? Betrayal was not a foreign concept to her. Would it not be a wiser choice to fight for something she knew to be true? And what if hewere truthful? For someone to reach across time and space to enlist her aid, only for her to spurn his cause. Could she turn away at the expense of people he intended to save? For all her selfishness, she could not make a decision so cruel.

Caesia was roused from her thoughts when Crouton nipped at her blood-red robes. She returned the gesture by crouching down to stroke his fur. Her breath caught in her throat as she closed her eyes. If anyone could see her now, they would not recognize the ineffable Warrior of Light stripped of her confidence.

“I need some air, is all. Go on, get some rest.” She smiled weakly, nudging him in the opposite direction.

The carbuncle bumped his head against her leg a few more times, before retreating to a place out of sight— a location betrayed only by the sound of soft pitter-patter against the tiles.

Caesia finally took notice of the Exarch’s accommodations. Though not the most luxurious, it was perhaps the most inviting and comforting an inn room had ever been for her. A table with food and a flagon of ale prepared beforehand was a welcome kindness. And she needed every bit of kindness she could get.

“At least I get all this space to myself,” She sighed, crossing the room to the windows.

She fumbled with wresting the iron frames open, desperate to be rid of the suffocating thoughts. But with the sight of the swirling, bright “night” sky, the crushing weight in her ribs had not abated.

“Great,” Caesia laughed wryly. She gestured at the sky to no one in particular. “Really can’t catch a break today.”

But before she could pass a second more wallowing in her dilemma, an eerie distorted voice called out from behind her.

Immediately, Caesia whipped around, hand outstretched, arming herself with a spell. ‘Voidsent? Or would it be an Ascian?’

“…You…?” The aether violently swirled and warped into a humanoid form.

She had seen enough that neither seemed to fit the bill, but she could not take the risk. Caesia held her defensive stance until the swirling aether had parted and unveiled a familiar face.

“I know you…” He said, ”You’re the Warrior of Light from the Source!”

Caesia’s arm went slack, and she tilted her head in recognition, her raven hair following in a sweeping movement. It was, after all, a small blessing to find an ally of sorts in trying times.

“…The Warrior of Darkness? So you have made it home.” She scoffed, grinning for the first time since arriving. “Gods, don’t you know how to make an entrance.”

“What?” He seemed alarmed by her response, which in turn, alarmed her.

“…What do you mean ‘what’? Do you not recall, in Dravania—”

“Did you just… You can hear me!?” His eyes grew wide.

“Of course I can hear you, I’m speaking to you aren’t I?” She placed a hand on her hip. It was uncertain where this conversation was heading.

She had always thought he was a bit of an oddball with his unkempt hair, bravado and flair for drama. That had been her first impression of him, despite the dangers he and his friends had posed. Yet in the end, she could not help but empathize with their plight. They too served Hydaelyn as Warriors of Light, and they too wielded a strength and passion that changed the fate of their home. It was for that parallel that she found a softness in her heart.

“Oh, gods, how long has it been…?” He sighed heavily.

And as if suddenly remembering she was still in the room, he lifted his head and met her gaze.

“…Aye…aye, that was what I called myself in your world… The ‘Warrior of Darkness.’”

Caesia sucked the air through her teeth, clicking her tongue. “Yeah, that’s a mouthful. I don’t know if that’s going to cut it for me. I recall your friend calling you Arbert?”

He shook his head sheepishly.

“My real name is Ardbert.”

“Oh, misheard that one, then.”

“No… Not quite. I used an alias in the Source. A daft one, looking back…”

There was a hint of amusement in his voice and Caesia smiled in return.

“Alright, ‘Ardbert’ it is.” She said, seating herself within reach of the basketful of bread, breaking off a piece to snack on.

“And please don’t call me the ‘Warrior of Light.’ You know damn well how exhausting it is to be called that.”

He chuckled. “A fair point. It’s certainly an epithet I’d never asked for.”

“Nor I. Besides, even if you’d chosen it, the ‘Warrior of Darkness’ doesn’t quite have the same ring to it either, no.” She said, brandishing the morsel in his direction as a gesture. “’So it’s Ardbert for you, Caesia for me.”

“Caesia, then.” He responded with an uncharacteristic fondness.

The ragged weariness in his voice was not lost on her. She furrowed her brow, as something in the way he spoke resonated with her, despite the lightness it carried. She knew too well the weight of his duty and how it had unfolded. Ardbert cast a long look out the window. He remained in silence, thoughts seemingly elsewhere though his gaze was fixed skyward.

“If you recall my tale, it was my comrades and I who caused the Flood.” He said quietly. “We thought our home doomed. And so we listened to the Ascians— let them guide us to the Source and tried to hasten their godsdamned Ardor.”

“Ah, that’s when you and your lot showed up. I won’t lie, you gave us one hell of a fight.” Caesia took another morsel to her lips.

“Well, I remember when we fell, defeated by you and yours.”

“You’re welcome,” She said, and gave him a bow, comical enough to elicit a half-chuckle.

“…And I remember our audience with Minfilia— how she listened to our pleas and returned our souls to the First.”

“Yes, that was the last I saw you. And here you are, on the First.” Caesia looked right at him, then off to the side. “Say, Ardbert, where is everyone else?”

“The Flood was poised to swallow Norvrandt… Minfilia and my friends, they…” He trailed off and broke eye contact.

It quickly occurred to her that it might not have been the best thing to ask. The heavy silence that followed said as much.

“They… surrendered what little they had left to hold it back. Just faded away.” He said. “Leaving me to bear witness.”

Caesia covered her mouth. Her thoughts turned to Minfilia. She and Urianger had suggested as much, and said as much would happen, but hearing it again after the events had unfolded made it real. She had hoped to find her again, somewhere, somehow perhaps with another audience with Hydaelyn, but that may not— would not— come to pass. Minfilia had faded away. Caesia understood that what had remained of the First— and the survival of those who thrived on it— was their doing. That everything yet existed, was because of them. Then her thoughts turned to Ardbert. She had lost a friend, but he lost four. What could she ever say that would make a difference? She watched him stare at the reminder of all their deeds hanging in the sky. His shoulders were tensed with resignation and the burden of his past. A burden he now carried alone.

He turned back to face her, as though something had occurred to him.

“Caesia, do you know the year? How much time has passed since we caused the Flood?”

Her heart sank. Does he not know? She knew very little of the First and had few answers, but this was one she wished she did not have. Not when there was a sliver of hope in his voice that things might change. She looked down.

“Uh… a century, give or take.” Then she quickly added, hoping to soften the blow somehow. “At least, that’s what I’d heard.”

“A hundred years…” His voice cracked. “A hundred long years…”

Not one for verbal apologies, she poured him a cup of ale, and set it on the table for him. He had watched her do so, but his expression simply grew more defeated.

“I thought maybe you might need one. I know I do.” She poured herself one as well, and began to down it. Gods help her.

He remained at a distance, watching her drink and no doubt thought about her more somber expression despite her attempts at humor. She surmised as much, knowing her face well, and how easily her emotions were laid bare. He made his way towards his cup, locking eyes with her the entire time. His hand simply passed through the cup of ale.

Caesia’s eyes widened. “You can’t…?”

“No,” He shook his head, staring at his gloved hand.

“My hands find no purchase. My gestures catch no eye. And my pleas, be they whispered or screamed, reach not a single ear…” Ardbert lamented. “I am a shade, cursed to do naught but drift. I feel as if I’ve been walking forever… ”

“For a hundred years… Truly? Without ever interacting with anything or anyone. How have you not lost your sanity?” Words or tact were never her strong suit, but her voice carried her deepest sympathies. The pain she had imagined could never compare to his reality.

“Truthfully, I hardly noticed when my mind and body began to fray at the edges.” He lifted his head and gave her a wry smile. “Then ‘bang’, my senses were sharp again. I felt like a fish being reeled in and before I knew it, I found myself in this room.”

“Oddly enough, that accurately describes my harrowing day and how I’d found myself here.” Caesia shrugged and began to down the cup meant for him, wiping the corners of her mouth.

“But why is it that you can see me?”

“I want to say, ‘Perhaps our destinies are now intertwined.’” She said, batting her lashes. ”but it’s almost certainly because we’re both Warriors of Light. It’s a little tough to think about, given all our connections to each other.”

“I don’t know how you do that, back and forth, all serious and now sarcastic.” He said, gesturing to her. ”What are you even doing here, come to that?”

“In the least amount of words, supposedly, this figure called the Crystal Exarch had been attempting to conjure me out of thin air and successfully pulled me from The Source to the First. If you recall my companions, they too had been pulled here, though purely on accident. He hopes I would fight to preserve what remains of the First. I know naught of his intentions, but…”

“You were summoned to save the First? A waste of time.” Ardbert crossed his arms, and looked at her thoughtfully.

“Not when there are those who yet survive.” She offered.

“No, this world is beyond saving— like those who try to save it. Muddled as my mind may be, I’ve not forgotten that.” He said quietly. “But if fate has brought me to you—“

“Intertwined destinies, baby.” She said, taking another swig.

He paused in the middle of his thoughts, looking at her with a flat expression, while she smiled back.

“But if fate has brought me to you— the one person in this gods forsaken world who can see or hear me— then perhaps there is a reason I endured.”

“Perhaps. I’d like to believe you have a purpose, even if it is tied to me somehow. Because the alternative is, you’re just a ghost haunting my bedroom.” She snorted into her cup.

The thought occurred to him, and he frowned. “…Must you put it that way?”

“Hey, I don’t like it either.” She shrugged. “I’m saying you must have a purpose. Truly. I believe it.”

“If I can find out why I was left behind then maybe… maybe I can bring this journey of mine to an end…”

And it was all he could hope for at this point. For his weary soul to find rest after a century of wandering and bearing the guilt of the Flood. She could not help but feel mournful for their fates, his above the rest, though she had not known them in life.

“You will. I’ll make sure of it.” It was an outlandish promise to a man long gone in a land ravaged by light, but it seemed to be something she could set right. And she felt it to the core of her being.

“Well, I’ll be watching, Caesia.”

“Let me know if you do. At least I’d know it’s you when I feel like I'm being watched.”

He gave her a faint smile and turned to leave. “Do me a favor. Be careful out there. This world has had its fill of heroes.”

Before she could get another word in, he was gone. She drummed her fingers on the table, staring at the two empty cups for a moment, then refilled one of them halfway.

“Not if I can help it.” She muttered, taking a generous sip. She wondered if she had found clarity and purpose.

#proxi writes #wol x ardbert #i haven't written in SO L O N G #like.... 2 years? whatthefuck #maybe 1 year but like TOO LONG

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finalfantasyxivwritings · 5 years

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do you have any headcanons for ardbert/wol? sfw, nsfw, either, both, please?

For the longest time, Ardbert tries to keep his distance from you; when you are an incorporeal soul not entirely tethered to the stream of space or time, this isn’t a wholly difficult thing to do, at least not on a conceptual level. Until you showed up within the first, Ardbert’s most vivid memories were little more than flashes of images and emotions, as if his soul could only summon the willpower to keep track of what was happening upon the star he once fought so hard to protect. Hopeless and distraught, he could only watch events unfold and never once could he interact with anyone else no matter how desperately he tried.

Until you came along, at least.

It would be easy to keep a distance from you, theoretically, since he doesn’t occupy physical space. Despite this however, Ardbert constantly finds himself drawn close to the warmth you give off with every waking moment--you are the one person who can see him after all, able to speak to him and touch him and make him feel like a person than as a long-forgotten and loathed memory. To say that he yearns for something as simple as your eyes looking at him is a severe understatement; he is a starving man offered food, an ill man needing medicine, drowning in the sea of time and you are the hand that reaches out to save him.

Things only get harder as you remain in the First, learning of its history and the impact of the blighted aether oppressing all who live upon it. Ardbert can only watch as you change the very star itself, one Lightwarden at a time, not only saving the home that he couldn’t, but going out of your way to clear the name of him and his friends in the process for what they tried to do years before. You don’t treat him like a specter, but as a person, even if he hasn’t felt like one in well over a century.

He becomes very protective of you. Before long, Ardbert starts to hover around you more than you likely realize--though he is certainly fond of basking in the warm glow of your soul, he also likes knowing that he is a second pair of eyes for you. He certainly can’t physically do much, but...he can try. He can offer you advice and a better perspective on the world, can help you navigate the lands, can even desperately try to even touch you when you need the anchoring pressure of another’s hand on your shoulder or arm.

NSFW Content below the cut

If touch in itself could be a kink, then its one that Ardbert has all but wrapped tight around his very soul. For over a century he had gone without so much as acknowledgement, settled between the cold expanse life and death and craving for so much as a moment to talk to someone else. The concept that you can actually touch him is one that he doesn’t forget at all; in fact, he goes out of his way for any excuse for your bodies to brush or your hand to touch him in any way--sometimes still, he’ll even be shameless in simply asking for you to just...lay your palm on his cheek. To feel your body heat against his skin.

It doesn’t take long for you to realize that Ardbert can still orgasm. Though he may not be able to make a mess of himself when his body is more energy than physical, you are quick to realize that yes, he is just as able to lose himself into the bottomless well of pleasure in much the same way as everyone else--and he is beautifully easy to coax into it. The first time that the two of you even attempted such intimacy in fact, you had only barely started stroking your hands up and down the man’s half-physical form when he let out a broken cry and his cock started to twitch with all the notions of orgasm save but the wet, physical proof making a mess of his belly.

He is sensitive everywhere, and you’ve realized there are so many ways that you can make Ardbert cum. A line of kisses down his chest, tracing delicately over the muscles beneath his skin, nipping up the flesh of his inner thighs. What makes it all the more fun is that, having no physical body, he is not held back by the sorts of limitations one may carry. Given enough attention, Ardbert can easily be brought to one orgasm after another, until he is little more than a quivering mess of moans and rutting hips.

Since nobody else can hear him, Ardbert loves to be loud. It’s moreso in the aspect that he’s simply USED to not having to care about his noise, but it does genuinely become a turn-on over time, likely when you gave the desperate man a quick handjob in between the walkways of the Crystarium. He moaned so loud, so desperately, pressing his hips forward and all but clinging to you while not a single soul other than you could hear him. Of course, it can be a little challenging at times when instinct makes you want to gag Ardbert’s slutty mouth from all but screaming your name, but there’s something so unique in the way that, almost, he is entirely yours to wreck and hear and love in all the ways he deserves to be.

#headcanon #ardbert headcanon #lemon #lemon headcanon #ardbert #ffxiv #shb spoilers #shadowbringer spoilers #5.0 spoilers #writing #oof i love ardbert sm #like #i fucking love him i want to give him all the attention he rightfully deserves #me @ ardbert: i want to give this man blow jobs and self esteem #Anonymous

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dragons-bones · 5 years

Text

FFXIV Write Entry #30: The Sunless Sea

Prompt: darkness | Master Post | On Ao3

WARNING: Spoilers for Shadowbringers MSQ. This fill is also a spiritual sequel to Stargazing, from FFXIV Write 2018 (prompt sixteen), and to Tonk!, from this year’s challenge (first free write).

Four Lightwardens were dead, their crackling glass Light contained in Synnove. Tomorrow, they’d march on Kholusia for the last of the Lightwardens of Norvrandt. But tonight, the Warriors of Darkness—and one Warrior of Light—fled out into the mountains of surrounding Lakeland. The Warriors of Darkness found a large, flat plateau, far to the northwest of the Crystarium, so far in fact that the Crystal Tower was a sliver of blue on the horizon. As they landed their chocobos on the plateau, Ardbert walked into existence, whistling cheerfully as he looked around.

“Desolate, isolated, little to no chance of untimely interruptions,” he said. “Very nice, ladies.”

Synnove slapped him on the shoulder and handed him Ivar, collecting Chantilly’s reins and walking after the others. Ardbert cuddled the ruby carbuncle closer, scratching under his chin, as he followed the Highlander; Ivar purred loudly in delight, one of his hindlegs kicking out. Ardbert chuckled at him.

They settled the chocobos down for the night first, the four of them creating a wind break for their riders. Each chocobo was unsaddled, feathers groomed into place, then fed and watered. Then as the chocobos laid on the ground in makeshift nests, legs and feet beneath themselves, blankets tucked around them to stave off chills—and Chantilly’s beloved flyer’s shaffron buckled under her beak to keep the mountain winds from blowing it away—the giant birds all settled down to sleep with content little kwehs. Meanwhile, their people and one ghost chattered.

“—oh, come on, a king behemoth? Synnove, I know you’re not precisely sane—”

“He was a sweetheart and just wanted a cuddle!”

“And you wonder why we drink, Ardbert.”

The discussion continued throughout the setup for dinner. Rereha and Alakhai set up the kindling they had packed, place a ring of stones around the makeshift firepit. Ardbert held Ivar forward, the carbuncle obliging belching out a lick of flame that ignited the logs and sticks, then gestured with Ivar still dangling from his hand as he argued axes versus swords and Synnove set up the pot for dinner.

“Now a good two-hander I could understand, that’s got a nice heft to it—Synnove, you’ll need the turmeric and cumin for that recipe—”

“Got it!”

“—and once you get your momentum going swinging around something that big, you’ve left yourself open for a reprisal. No, sir, I like keeping my feet firmly planted exactly where I like them.”

“Oh, come on, Heron—”

Ivar went back to sleep even as Ardbert kept gesticulating with him.

Dinner went as expected: as Synnove minded the stew, Ardbert peering over his shoulder and muttering about proper spice ratios—“Ardbert, I swear, you are worse than my aunt.” “And if you’re going to make a proper Nabaath stew you need to add more turmeric, do it right now.” “Alakhai, smack him for me, please.” WHACK! “Ow!” “Thank you. My pot, my stew, now back off, dead boy.”—and Heron and Rereha got into a heated discussion about the last game of Founders of Tanac they had played while Alakhai sharpened her knives and shook her head at all of them.

More banter over dinner—“Branden named himself Dark Heart, just how extra were you lot trying to be?” “You say it yourself all the time, Rere: go big or go home.” “There’s big and then there’s melodramatic.”—and yet more through cleanup. Then after banking the fire, the Warriors of Darkness crawled into their bedrolls, while Ardbert sat on one of the makeshift benches they’d set up using the larger rocks, Ivar curled up in his lap while his siblings burrowed in with their mama. They all stared heavenward, at the jet-black sky spangled with rivers of stars; it was a new moon, so only the stars lit the world.

“And now, Ardbert,” said Rereha with a great amount of satisfaction, “it’s time for that most time-honored tradition: Make Your Own Constellation.”

“Let me guess, that one’s a pair of breasts?”

“A man after my own heart!”

Ardbert stuck his tongue out at her, the spectral glow of his soul making it easy to see. Rereha cackled at him.

“How about this,” said Heron, the ever-exasperated peacekeeper and group mother, “we’ll point out the shapes we see—no genitalia, Rere—”

“You ruin all my fun, Heron!”

“—and you tell us about the constellations that were recognized back before the Flood and you can remember, Ardbert.”

He scratched his chin. “Sounds fair. Nyelbert could have named them all, and told you all the stories besides, but I’ll do my best.”

“Alakhai, you start,” said Heron.

The Xaela hummed thoughtfully, then pointed to a string of three stars next to a half loop of four more. “That looks like a bow to me,” she said.

Ardbert tilted his head thoughtfully, leaning back on one hand as he followed where her finger indicated. “Well, not bad, Alakhai,” he said. “Already nailed it. That’s actually one of the old ones, Chorra-Mai’s Bow. Legendary mystel huntress; Renda-Rae knew all the stories about her. If you follow the string a little further along,” he gestured with his finger, dragging it ‘up,’ “that big blue beauty? That’s Ronka’s Tear; same as your Navigator’s Jewel, that’s the one star you can always use to find your way home.”

“Synnove.”

Synnove took a bit longer than Alakhai, studying the sky intently. Finally, she pointed out a cluster roughly east of Chorra-Mai’s Bow. “Amaro,” she said. “There are the points for the head, the chest, the wings, and the tail.”

“Huh,” said Ardbert, blinking in surprise. “I can see it. Oddly enough, I don’t think any of the star charts had an amaro constellation. That’s a shame. But you’re not far off from a Norvrandt one, though: excluding the ‘head’ star, that’s the Manticore.”

“…That is not a manticore,” said Synnove.

“Maybe not an Eorzean manticore,” he said wryly. “But the ones of Nabaath legend? Head of a hume, body of a lion, tail of a scorpion.”

A very long moment of silence, broken by Rereha: “Respectfully: what the fuck.”

“Don’t look at me!”

They continued like that for another bell, maybe two, laughter and shouting echoing off the surrounding mountains, until the Warriors of Darkness finally began to drift off to sleep. When Ardbert was the only one left he awake, he carefully leaned back on his stone perch, dragging the sleeping Ivar up to his stomach, and crossed his arms behind his head. He felt a smile slowly stretch his lips as he gazed up at the glittering beauty of the sunless sea, basking in the welcoming embrace of a moonlight night.

He’d forgotten what hope had felt like over the past century of mad, lonely wandering. Now, here he was, as sane as any ghost could hope to be, with four more brilliant, ridiculous siblings of his heart, and the chance to finally see his mistakes righted once and for all. Even should they encounter setbacks, he knew Dancing Heron and Synnove and Rereha and Alakhai would find their way to victory.

Hope…hope felt rather wonderful.

#ffxivwrite2019 #dt's writing #final fantasy xiv #shadowbringers #spoilers #ffxiv spoilers #5.0 spoilers #ardbert #oc: synnove greywolfe #oc: dancing heron #oc: rereha reha #oc: alakhai noykin #synnove's carbuncles

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sunlitpeony · 5 years

Text

entry #28 || rejoining

for prompt #28 || “ attune ”

{ content warning: something that feels like body horror; ShB spoilers }

She is falling, falling, falling further and further down.

The earth spins, turning sky to stone and stone to sky, and beneath her all the world is uncanny, unfamiliar, unwelcoming -- this is not a place she remembers, this is not a place she forgets. Would that deja vu had the fortitude to stand up beneath the burden of this memory that is hers, this memory that is not hers, to a her who is not her and yet still is and always will be and has been up until this exact moment when the two hers collide and pull apart at the seams, bone grating against bone and chipping them both to pieces, worn down into dust until they see they are made of the same stuff, breathing the same air, living the same life and yet never have they ever been more different than right now, right here -- but deja vu cannot sustain her, cannot keep from buckling under the weight of what she knows and cannot know. A crumbling foundation, collapsing pillars that throw her temple down with such violence. Gravity forgets her, and yet it has never held her in so tight a grip as it closes its hands on her chest, crushing the breath from her... choking her, unmaking her, creating her anew with disciplined fingers. She feels herself splitting -- sinew tearing, viscera spilling, her insides are becoming her outsides and she cannot move her arms to keep herself together, instead she can only weep and scream in a keening cry that moves the heavens above Amaurot in a way the city has not heard in what feels like a hundred thousand years.

make it stop make me stop make it stop make me stop

Then it stops.

Ardbert is there, carrying her in his arms beyond the blinding light. Where are they going? She hasn’t the strength to ask. Addled by the phantom echo of the pulsing agony that had only just been stretching her body in a hundred thousand directions, she keeps her silence... and he keeps his. Of course he does. They had only just begun to tell each other things about themselves -- stories of journeys the other had never seen to places they could only imagine, the people they had met, the loves they had learned, the lives they had lost. Unfamiliar one and all, and yet the both of them had felt the dull gnaw of that same nagging thought... hadn’t they heard this story before? Had they really never been there? It rang a bell somewhere distant, somewhere deep inside them in a corner of their selves they never knew existed until right that moment -- and yet? Yet it felt as though they had always been aware of it, the way one knows a lighthouse must surely stand sentinel on the coast to bring ships safely to harbor, even when shrouded by mist. Through this impenetrable fog they have reached out and found one another, and in his arms there is a strange sort of solace... it feels melancholy, sad in a way that feels like farewell, and suddenly she comes alive against his chest.

❝ let me go. ❞

His strong legs carry her, him, them forward towards the inevitable.

❝ i said let me go -- ardbert! stop! you cannot do this! ❞

❝ you know the same as i, warrior of light. my story is over, but my part in yours? this is it. ❞

But it doesn’t have to end here. Your story can continue. We can keep meeting during those moments I am alone and at my lowest. We can keep talking. We can keep hearing about one another. We can keep being friends.

❝ but if you do this-- ❞

❝ i know. ❞

❝ i cannot send you if-- ❞

❝ i don’t want it. ❞

His voice is... frail, somehow. Gruff, of course, but soft somewhere beneath it. The guilt of one left behind when all his loved ones have gone ahead. As he speaks his words vibrate in her chest, as though they were joined in voice and body for a brief moment. Comfort washes over her chased by dread. This feeling... she cherishes it, and then despises it for what is to come. Aye, he is right. They both know what needs to be done, what must come to pass for the future of all they hold dear to be won. But what of no more sacrifices? Of this world having its share of heroes?

❝ wherever it is my friends went off to, that’s where i’m headin’... that’s where i intend to go. if they’re gone, then... i’d rather be gone, too. ❞

She understands. She wishes she didn’t. The shard of her last Crystal resonates cruelly around her neck as he holds her a bit closer, as she stares out into the distance and sees nothing but blinding white. It’s the crossroads -- somehow she knows they stand in the dead center of all these paths, all the paths they could choose to take and had chosen in other lives, all they chose not to take and had not taken in other lives, all the paths she would take and would in this life... his footprints end here, deep and permanent for having carried her weight, too, at the very last.

Now though? Now she will carry him.

❝ together..? ❞

❝ aye, ❞ he murmurs, and the curve of his smile brings new tears to her eyes. ❝ together. ❞

#FFxivWrite2019 #;; makes it SAD #;; welcome to my rambling 4 AM writing at 1:30 in the afternoon

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blueyemxn · 5 years

Text

My Persephone (Pt. 5)

A Broken Exchange

Spoiler Warning: Content below contains spoilers for the lvl 80 Shadowbringers MSQ, if you have not reached this point in the game and do not wish to be spoiled please refrain from reading. Otherwise enjoy my trash shipping at your own risk.

Relationship: Emet-SelchxWoL

Ao3 Story - Here Part One: Here Part Two: Here Part Three: Here Part Four: Here Part Six: Here

“This really is unexceptionable. I gave you very specific instructions.”

He lumbered sluggishly, still slouched over as he approached the Warrior of Darkness and her companions, eyes ever downcast in disappointment. Disappointment in her, that she would dare share this ancient ground with others. That she would bring her friends to a place only special to themselves. He had known from the moment they stepped into Amaurot that she wasn’t alone, and yet now he complains about it? How so… him.

“Emet-Selch.” There came a growl from Alphinaud, but Nua paid him no mind, her eyes focused on the Ascian before her.

She took a step, then two, then three and suddenly she was there in front of him, so close that if she took a deep breath their bodies would touch. “Last I checked I didn’t need your permission to do anything, least of all to bring them at my final hours.”

Her eyes bore into him, challenging his golden stare that didn’t change from its disapproving glance.

Her chest tightened; she hated it when he looked at her like that, like he was trying to make her feel guilty. “Though, all things considered, I did try to come alone, seems my friends are just as stubborn as I.”

“As if we’d let you confront this bastard alone in the state you’re in,” Thancred said as she heard a click from his gunblade. Cute, but Nua didn’t find it necessary, though it warmed her heart to know they cared about her that much. To risk themselves like this when she was about to turn and probably devour them all.

“No matter. In the end my invitation was for an abomination, a being ripe with power to bring about this shard’s annihilation. Not this half-broken… thing. Whatever am I to do with you?” He asked mockingly, the last of his words ending in a sneer as he continued to stare down with condescension. She glared back, the word broken echoing within the realm of her mind, digging itself into her heart.

Broken.

“I’m nothing but broken.”

“Such an odd thing to say, it’s something Emet-Selch would surely debate against.”

“Only because he doesn’t know.”

“You’d be surprised. He may not speak about such things, but he knows, he always knows.”

Cracks began to form beneath her feet, splitting the marble as the beast within grows restless. Her fingers dug into her arms, twitching as she was given the overwhelming desire to slap him across the face with such force his head would come clean off. The only thing that stopped her was a tug at the heart, a long forgotten devotion to a man who wasn’t himself anymore.

“It took a painstakingly long time to make that and here you are breaking it into pieces. Are you already so far gone that you can’t control yourself?” There came a long, drawn out sigh from his lips as he looked down to the floor with a bored expression before those orbs of ichor went back to hers.

Her eyebrow twitched and she opened her mouth to say something.

“You’re not going to let him get to you that easily, are you?” Ardbert asked, walking next to her. “He knows nothing about you, nothing about this world. He does not have the right to dictate who lives and who dies. It stands to reason he shouldn’t dictate how you feel, right?” There was a warmth in his voice, as if he were smiling, but Nua dared not break her eye contact with Emet-Selch to look.

Her shard was right though, giving into her anger would just fuel the rapidly encroaching light within her soul. She had to stave it off as much as possible. And she refused to let the bastard have the satisfaction of tipping her over the edge just because he knew how to push her buttons.

For a moment she closed her eyes and in that time did the cracks stop and the air went back to normal. She opened them slightly to give off the same bored expression he had. “As if I’d get angry over the lies that spew out of your mouth; please.” She scoffed, half turning away.

“As I’ve stated before, hero, I have not uttered a single lie through this entire endeavor; about you least of all. You are what your are, a broken shell, a shattered remnant of what once was and what will be again once the one true god is resurrected.”

“And how, pray tell, do you intend to bring back the dead? Even a god as powerful as yours couldn’t simply bring back every single one of your people without something drastic in return.” Y’shtola noted, hardened glance on Emet-Selch to see if he had an answer. Such a request was hardly an easy task and even Hydaelyn had no such ability to reanimate, though that was never her intended purpose.

Suddenly he smirked and he lifted his arms as if he were preaching the holy word of the one true God. “Once all the worlds have rejoined, we Ascians are to offer up the Source’s remaining inhabitants in sacrifice, that we might resurrect our brethren who died to bring Zodiark into existence. And thus, everything will go back to the way it was, the way it was meant to be.” He spoke with such lavish and conviction, a duty he was wholly dedicated to no matter what it took to achieve such an end. He had dedicated eons to restoring his people and if the First could be rejoined he was one step closer to that goal. Or at least he thought.

The room stiffened and Nua cursed under her breath as a result of this madness. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” She muttered, though she knew very well that he was not. “Back the way it was meant to be? Nothing is going to go back to the way it was ‘supposed’ to be, not after this. When everyone finds out you’ve killed billions just to bring them back to a doomed world, they will look up to you in horror.”

“You do not kn--”

“I know enough!” She turned to face him again, a very stern look on her face as she tried to keep her temper at bay even when she was hearing such nonsense coming out of his mouth. “I may not have all of my memories but I have enough to recount the tear between our people when you and the rest of the Convocation kept spilling blood for your god. How were we to safeguard the future of our people when you were butchering them in the present?!”

“This can’t keep going, Emet-Selch, too many lives have already been lost.”

“We don’t have a choice, Zodiark needs more sacrifices so that he may restore the star.”

“Are you so blind that you don’t realize that it's killing the few we have left? We will have no future at this rate.”

“Fandaniel we’re doing the best we can. Zodiark is the star itself, it knows what it needs. Just a little bit more, he just needs a little bit more and everyone will--”

“Even if he does decide to finally answer our wishes, there will be nothing left for them but a city full of ghosts.”

“Where are you going?”

“To find a better solution.”

“Nothing good has ever come out of sacrificing those to a primal and Zodiark is no different.” Nua felt her chest congest as she waited for Emet-Selch’s response, waiting for him to show something, anything. But the bastard was never one to give what she would have wanted, no, he just decided to be his usual uncaring self as he shook his head.

“Even now, after everything, you refuse to listen to reason. You think that it's unfair that you are subject to suffering? That your lives will be sacrificed for the ancients?”

“Of--”

“Look at me!” He demanded as his voice became unmasked and raw while he grabbed at her arm, forcing her to close the small gap between their bodies. “I have lived a thousand thousand of your lives! I have broken bread with you, fought with you, grown ill, grown old! Sired children and yes, welcomed death’s sweet embrace. For eons have I measured your worth and found you wanting! Too weak and feeble-minded to serve as stewards of any star!” His voice trembled as the one unoccupied hand shook with heated frustration as the other holding her in place squeezed with unnatural strength.

Nua did not flinch, not until she felt his soul again, caressing at her, snapping at the edges of her confines as gut-wrenching disgust vibrated through her being. She nearly buckled, feeling the hopelessness he felt for the inhabitants of the Source and the Shards.

Not worthy. They cannot hope to be so. They are not our legacy. They are weak. They are feeble. Not worthy. notworthynotworthyNOTWORTHYNOTWORTHYNOTWORTHY--

The words spiraled out of control, filling her mind with endless chattering. She could hear her friends in the background shouting, but what she could not understand, nor was there any reason to. Slowly did she put up a hand, bidding them to cease, hoping that they wouldn’t be so foolish as to try and fight when it was obvious that the only person who could ever hope to stand up to Emet-Selch was her.

Then her soul screeched back, pushing back against his, stubbornly unmoving, unyielding.

They are worthy. They can do this. We can do this. Give us a chance. We are strong. We can persevere. We are ALIVE! WE ARE WORTHY!

She intensified her feelings as much as she could; not that that said much. It was difficult due to most of her memories missing and unused to using her soul in this way. When she saw the small amount of amusement on his face, she knew that her efforts were anything but effective.

“Have you not learned that your ignorance and frailty begets only endless misery?” His voice, though soft, managed to drown out all possible others, causing them to grow quiet and still as his smile faded away. “How long do you mean to perpetuate this farce? How much more must I endure your bumbling interference?” Emet-Selch looked to her, eyes boring into her own, though she had a feeling that he wasn’t talking to her, not directly. He closed them briefly, seemingly contemplating before his eyes met with her other companions.

“Even if the world were to face true annihilation once more, do you honestly believe that half your number would sacrifice themselves to save the other? Of course they wouldn’t. And if you had witnessed history unfold as I have, you would have reached the same conclusion.” He said, still continuing his lecture in a softer version of his voice; of which he was not entirely wrong.

A quiet sigh left his lips and his grip on her loosened enough where she could easily pull away; she did not. “I will bring back our brethren. Our Friends. Our loved ones. The world belongs to us and us alone.”

I promise, Persephone.

His fingers slowly loosened before lazily falling away before he turned his back to her, perhaps unable to gaze at her any longer, tired of fighting and tired of not being able to get his point across. Those words of his, that were meant for her hearing only, echoing in her mind as he started to walk away.

Hades!

Her soul reached out when verbal words would not, trying to coax him out of this fantasy he had been planning to bring about for eons. But he ignored her, heading out towards the door.

“Emet-Selch!” Amidst the buckling silence did Alphinaud manage to find his voice where Nua or the others could not. While the boy looked pained, his resolve was clear within his stable voice. “We understand. Truly. But it makes no difference. The ones you love are in the past. While ours are here in the present. One day, we too will be ashes and dust, but not today. Our time is not yet finished. We share your conviction… and that is why we will not abandon our course.”

Such a way with words; Alphinaud was always better at them than Nua ever hoped to be. She thought actions were better; to feel, taste, breath, hear and see then to listen to a person speak words that were only made to impress others. Alphie managed that and more most of the time, but knowing Emet-Selch, knowing her Hades, it would not be possible. He was dedicated, he was so filled with insurmountable love that he would do insurmountable atrocities to achieve them.

Emet-Selch was silent, standing there, arms loosely hanging at his sides, posture slouched as if something heavy was weighing them down. At first Nua thought he would not bother arguing further, but then she felt fire. There was no heat, but she could feel something burning from him, his soul flickering and intensifying. She knew it well; the uncontainable rage that threatened to overtake one’s being. His back straightened slightly and Nua felt her gut clench.

“You think us the same? You think your tattered soul of equal worth to those I lost?” His head turned ever so slightly, golden eyes constricted as he gritted his teeth. “Then come-- earn your place. Prove yourselves worthy to inherit this star.” The burning pulsed, but within that flame of resentment Nua could feel a deep wound, a hurting chasm that could not be filled or healed. A grief that would not allow itself to be overcome.

And before them the golden doors opened, revealing a wall of fire and beyond a crumbling city full of despair, hopelessness and death.

“Behold, the coming oblivion. T’was the end of our era, and the beginning of our great work. A fitting backdrop… for your final judgement.”

#ffxiv #ffxiv shadowbringers #shadowbringers spoilers #5.0 spoilers #emet-selch #|| drabble

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inviouswriting · 4 years

Text

Feathers

Mentions of the polyship with @maiden-born-in-snow

This has a good ending to it. Just Ardbert and Kivera discussing morale and the events of her declining explaining to Kiya, Hecate.

I hope I did your boy proud in how I think he would respond to Kivera’s temperament sometimes.

Kivera had returned to the house she calls a temporary home, among those she has become close to. She already knows what awaits her, most of them knowing her meeting with Kiya happened. The first face that greets her being Ardbert.

“So, did you tell her anything?” Curious, he had grown to understand the reaper in how she works. The narrow in her eyes says alot for him.

“No. I can’t answer her questions. You know that.” Kivera sighs, her role a hard one to please, she preferred not to. It made it easier to turn questions down.

“She does deserve to know something.” This earns Kivera staring at him through orange eyes. Divinity even perks up seeing them.

“Ardbert..”

“Divinity.” Kivera warns, then turns her attention to the former warrior of light.

“Kiya deserves a full life. Per her request when she use to be Hecate. I am fulfilling her wish. She should not remember, nor am I obligated to tell her the matters of someone who is dead.”

“But she isn’-”

“Quiet. I’m not done. What good does remembering how you died feel? To remember the moment that doom creature rammed her with a horn? Maybe the bones that broke, or how she was left to die on a rooftop burning beneath her as she looked to a passage she loved for comfort. Hecate does not want Kiya to remember what she once was. Just a girl who had no intentions of full-filling Zodiark. Who loved the idea of being in love, that she died content with her thoughts of it. Is that fair?” Kivera eyes Ardbert, the two butt heads when it comes to moral rights. Kivera always siding with death and what is cold honesty.

“What harm does it truly bring if she remembered anything?”

“The very act of remembering. You recall my conditions with Damien?” Kivera raises an eyebrow recalling her former lover.

“Aye, you can’t reveal anything otherwise his life is forfeit and you would be thrown.”

“Into Tartarus.” Kivera finishes his sentence.

“I’ve condemned souls there before. I have seen that realm myself. I’d choose Hell before I choose Tartarus.” Ardbert downcasts his stare. She once again proves her point.

“I think Hecate has a better life as Kiya. Wouldn’t you agree? She has a knight, she is powerful, a child to be. So much life for who was once dead.” Divinity moves to tug Kivera away. She only shrugs her grasp.

“Ardbert. Would you want anyone to know how you lost your life if it was horrific?” He thinks it over, and realizes what she means. Raising his gaze to meet the vibrant green eyes staring back at him.

“No. I’d rather forget.”

“Then why would I make someone remember because people ask me to? I need you to not understand my methods all the time. Trust my judgement.” A wry grin spreads on his face for once.

“Isn’t that what we do already? Trust you?” Kivera shakes her head.

“I said trust my judgements.” She looks at a wing sifting through black feathers for something. Till her eyes land on a multi-colored between black and white. Halved like herself. Ardbert eyes her.

“Who is that one for?” He knows she gives those to special people to her.

“Ysayle. When she is old enough to appreciate the gift. For now, you hold onto this till then.” She hands it to him, Ardbert looks it over, the serrated edges of the feather. He never took a close look at Kivera’s feathers before even on the single feather she gave him a long while back.

“They’re serrated... like an owls.” He mentions absent-minded.

“Think of my titles.” He recalls Death, angel, reaper, things that go with death. Destruction, Kill, Souls, Scythe, Deathbringer, Silent Death.

“You’re terrifying.”

“I should be.”

“Yet, you give gifts of protection to us.”

“Only those I trust.” Kivera sees him hand the feather to Divinity to take to Shuri for a safe spot, near her music boxes for her to see when she returns.

“What would happen if you didn’t trust us.”

“You know that answer.” He did, he felt it from when she first approached him. The overwhelming sense of dread and pressure he once felt from the Sin Eater. She was every primal force, the answer to them. Unyielding and a direct force of nature. Yet Ardbert sees it when no one else does, or what the others see in her.

The soul who was taken and thrown into chaos herself. The girl who had the world and fates decide for her. Divinity standing close another example of Kivera’s handiwork in granting ease to the dead. He had witnessed Kivera once, how she extends a hand and takes a soul as if she is just helping someone up. Her expression soft, comforting. The mass of tears she’d shed never her own.

“You remember your own death?” Ardbert asks.

“I do.”

“Do you wish you could forget it?”

“I do...”

“Why do you choose to remember it?”

“It’s my punishment.”

“Punishment for?”

“Transgressions.”

“Would you tell me them?”

“No. Not even Divinity knows them.” Kivera starts to look up at the roof of the house. Finding it inviting to escape.

“What have you done?” She looks at him.

“What “haven’t” I done you mean.” Kivera corrects him, and Ardbert has a brief look of shock on his face.

“What do you mean haven’t done?” He glances over to Divinity who was already heading inside.

“I feel your eyes. The one you ask is Kivera. Not me. Not even I know everything about her. There are some things she won’t talk about. Specifically her descent through Hell.” Divinity then leaves the two to themselves. Knowing her leader that what she wants to disclose is not for everyone.

“There is still so much anyone knows of you.”

“The less you know sometimes is the best.” Kivera alters her form to appear more closer to her natural look. She internally curses at having limitations placed on her, but for better to not accidentally ruin the place she walks.

“What would it take to make you share more with us?” Kivera eyes him.

“When I feel comfortable.” Kivera folds her arms under her chest.

“We’re still not getting anywhere with this.” Ardbert felt frustration dealing with the reaper at times. It is moments like that he is reminded of what her role is. She’s not suppose to pick sides, she told him painfully a while ago about it.

“What made you distrust humans so much.” He misses the way her face falls at that question. She had shown him a while back why.

“You know what made me distrust them. I have been at the brunt of their cruelty, I’ve seen them fight and squabble of petty differences. I’ve felt their depravities. I take the souls of those murdered, innocent, the ones who think mercy works, those who chose family, those who chose others. Nations, masters, I’ve been used in rituals for beauty, for catalysts, love torn from me, and all in the name of some holy or unholy reason. Even you. The ability to kill is what keeps me around.” Kivera ends her tangent with showing him again her past through flames this time.

“Shuri and Estinien understood when they both saw it. The pain, the heartache, they both have experienced a certain depth. You of all should know it having tasted death yourself. Yet you wonder what makes me distrust.” She curls in on herself sitting on the edge of her weapon. Ardbert regrets his choice of wording.

He and Kivera were very much different. She represented all that is ugly in the world. Ardbert reminded her of what humanity should look like. Noble, perfect, full of hope and right. While she is a reminder of what all living eventually meets. Cold, calculating, bitter, imperfect, cruel, and the end.

Ardbert is a light while she is darkness itself.

“I didn’t quite need that lecture.” Ardbert says after a while.

“And I didn’t need your moral judgement.” She counters.

They look at each other, Kivera with lowered eyes, green with a touch of gold.

(Continued in another story.)

#Kivera Siverstein #ardbert #ff14 ardbert #shuri fontaye

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