#ffxiv write 2024

[mimble-sparklepudding]

10. Stable.

My chocobo got loose from her stable,

And to catch her I was quite unable,

For in spite of my labours,

She broke into the neighbours'

And ate all the fruit off their table.

[tallbluelady]

Tempest

Urianger watched Rowan's hands clench and flex as they toured through the city under the Tempest. She was agitated. And rightfully so - not only was she still carrying a too heavy burden, but the Ascian continued to claim an unearned intimacy between them. Urianger yearned to give her succor, but he had placed that burden of a world of light squarely on her shoulders.

"Go to her," Thancred whispered.

"After what I've done -" he started.

"She forgave you, like it or not. I believe it was in service to you two continuing to court."

Urianger only gave a hum to that.

Thancred sighed. "You don't have to ask her the conditions of her forgiveness. Just hold her hand. Say aught soothing. Merely approach her. Or I'll do it and say you didn't want to."

Twas an underhanded ploy, but Urianger found himself changing pace to match Rowan's position. She turned to him and her eyes light up with what he hoped was a positive emotion rather than the polarity of her aether.

"Art thou well?" he asked, knowing full well she was not.

She shook her head. "Nay." Her hands worried at the hem of her tabard.

"We are all here with thee." Urianger took one of her busy hands in his. "I am here with thee."

She smiled, and the storm and tension within her faded.

[somehumandrawing]

Chapter 5 - Stamp

Hey look a Moogle!

This cleaned up pretty ok given I only spent like three hours on it!

@dissociated-and-tired I will draw your WoL eventually! I promise!

[the-sycophant]

FFXIV Write 2024 - Prompt 02 - Horizon

Words | 539 ——————– Horizon was a shithole.

Miss Marlowe Morning sat silently. Sulkingly.

Uncomfortable. Undeniably unhappy.

She looked like a sickly Ishgardian child too doted on and too adored by their buzzing mosquito of a mother, everything in them drained save the hope of being able to look out the window again on their own. Her limbs were flopped at odd angles over the edge of the wagon, unsure if it was hotter from outside or inside the covering. Her chin was nearly to her chest, posture making her look both bloated and broken.

There were very few things she liked about Thanalan. The weather was gorgeous if viewed from a window, just over thirty six degrees with the most gods awful breeze. It wasn’t refreshing at all, Azeyma just brutishly fanning feathery flame to lick up her skin. Not a cloud in the sky, either. Not a drop of water to be seen except when the heat made the earth…wiggle weirdly, warped it.

“It’s bloody HOT!” She wailed. “How much longer!” It had been days, DAYS since she had a bath. Her leggings were sticking to her in ways she didn’t think imaginable, her own sense of smell having vanished after traveling with several rotting plump orobon for half those days. ‘To keep the eggs nice and warm’, the hunters had said. Whatever that meant.

Her Hrothwoman blocked the sun out for her, bless her, as she leaned over into the wagon back. “Not long.” Her whiskers pushed forward as she grinned down. Marlowe thought she looked the sort to put an animal out of its misery as a mercy. 

She tried to look exceedingly pathetic to try and coax her.

“Not long!” She said again, grin widening.

“But that’s all relative! My long is not the same as your long!”

She shrugged. “Well, then…not long, for sure.”

Marlowe’s anguish twisted her torso one way, then the other. Back again. She sat up. “And what if I don’t make it even then!” She whined, tugging at the clothes she was loaned. “I might perish! You might have to bury me!” The other woman’s chortle made her sit up further still, hands clutching the wagon back. “Do you want that!? I don’t want that!” She wailed. “I don’t want to be buried in mole fucking brown!”

A long piece of…some sort of grain tickled Marlowe’s nose as its end shifted from one side of the Hrothgar’s mouth to the other. “I ain’t gonna let ‘em bury ya in that.”

Her sniffle was indulgent, entirely put on. They both knew it. “I want a bath.”

A flick of an ear. “Vesper Bay ain’t all that far. Hows about we skedaddle, take a walk-,” Oh, the scowl Marlowe made would shrivel a field, “we can go swimmin’. Take a dip. Just you ‘n me? ‘Fore we set sail? The others can catch up when they’re done.”

Marlowe sniffled again. “Isn’t the bay filthy?”

The Hrothgar tutted, scooping up the smaller woman to lift her out of the wagon, to set her on the ground. “Not as filthy as you, darlin”.

They ran halfway there, as Marlowe tried to catch her to, probably, do terrible and unspeakable things. For the other half, she was carried.

[mrlarkstin]

FFXIV Write Day 1: Steer

[hythlodaeus-mynewoldfriend]

Day 2: Horizon no warnings. word count 913

Her lungs burn as she looks over her shoulder once more, Still no guard. I might just be able to make it this time. Still Siberite sprints onward, the port town of Thavnair, Yedlihmad, within her sights, beginning to gleam with the small line of daylight over the ocean. She says a prayer to the Sisters that she find someone leaving right away and far from her home, for should she fail and her parents catch her there will never be another chance to leave. 

She puts her hands on her knees when she stops on the edge of Yedlihmad, letting her two stuffed bags fall before her. Panting she takes in the muddied silver heels and hem of her blue silk skirt in an attempt to even her breathing. So far, so good, She thinks as she stands once more adjusting her bags, finding them heavier now than when she initially left home, Let’s just find someone willing to take me on. 

The wooden pier is already bustling with sailors loading up the last bits of cargo, passengers from who knows where taking in the new sights of their destination, and sellers bargaining with suppliers. Siberite scans looking for anyone that’s almost done loading, finding only a burly hyur, with long dark hair and dressed in a simple linen white shirt and black pants, that stretches out his back when the last crate is loaded onto a rowboat. She pushes past the others on the pier, calling out, “Sir! Uh, excuse me sir!” The man looks up at her and then on either side before pointing at himself. Siberite nods, “Yes you! I must ask you something.”

The man shrugs, “Just make it quick. I got places to be.”

She smiles, “So does that mean you are getting ready to depart?”

“Soon as I get this last load on board,” he points his thumb back to a larger wooden ship with a statue depiction on the bow that she thinks is a goddess of Eorzea.

“Could you tell me where you are headed?”

The man tilts his head, “Final stop is Limsa Lominsa, but got a few others along the way.” He looks her up and down, raising a brow at her lightly bejeweled silk attire and her silver statement jewelry, “You’re not lookin’ to sail outta here by any chance?” Siberite nods, “Look, miss, I can’t just-.”

“I can pay you.” She interjects, rifling through the small purse on her hip. She pulls out a platinum diamond and pink beryl necklace, letting it shine in the first rays of light. The man’s eyes go wide as he takes it in, Siberite giving a smirk, “I take it you know how much you can sell this for?”

The man shakes his head clear, grumbling out, “Well sure, but not nearly-.”

She flips it around, showing off the exclusive Thavnarian designer’s signature, “There’s a matching pair of earrings too.”

“You ain’t playin’ around, lady. You that desperate?” He glances between Siberite and the necklace, teeth grinding as she lets it dance in front of him. With a huff he crosses his arms, “You won’t have much in the way of private accommodation, can’t guarantee safe travel or decent food, but I can get you to your destination if you can handle the rough living situation.”

Part of her recoils at the thought of not having some kind of luxury, be it private sleeping quarters or edible food, but what did she expect? Looking at his ship it seems decent enough size to hopefully allow for sleeping in a storage room, and his tapping foot gives tell to the hasty departure she delays with every second they stand there. A quick glance over her shoulder makes it all the more imperative as two of the Radiant Host question people in the town holding up a piece of paper with her face on it no doubt. Fuck it, “I’ll give you the earrings when I depart, but we have a deal.”

He steps aside and helps her into the rowboat, before jumping in himself. He sits himself in front of her, blocking anyone else from seeing her, giving her a wink. Once safely on the ship, Siberite hands over the necklace, seating herself at the front of the boat out of the sailors’ way, checking for any damage on her sore feet, Note to self these heels are not made for sprinting in the jungle. Finally, she hears one of the men yell to weigh anchor, and the snap of the sails catching the wind, feeling the boat begin to move along the sea. 

Her heart races with each malm she puts between her and Thavnair. Lungs reinvigorated with the splash and smell of salty sea as the ship moves fast enough to let her hair fly among the wind. She laughs, her shaking hands gripping the edge of the ship looking down at the creatures she only ever read about swimming alongside them. “I-. I did it….” Siberite looks back to where she came, seeing Thavnair, her home and her prison, become no more than a speck of dust along the horizon. “I actually did it! I’m free!” She laughs and yells out among the crashing waves, hands in the air, looking west towards her new start. Siberite beams letting the ambient sounds fill her hears, making out the faintest of whispers among the wind:

….May we meet soon, my brave little spark….

[umbralaether]

FFXIV Write 2024

Day 1: Steer

Steer clear of Pandaemonium, lest you never return.

Astraea had heard the whispering about Pandaemonium, how the wardens and creatures alike were imposing and dangerous. You certainly did not want to be caught poking around where you shouldn't be, as the place was off limits for most people.

Still, her creation locked away here? Unfair, and certainly stunk of ulterior motives.

She stalked silently along the shadows, trying to sense the creature she was looking for. She pulled her hood tighter to her head, obscuring her face from the wandering watcher of this section. Slowly, she approaches the cell where Cactua was being held.

"Finally… free…!"

The voice that popped into her head was not her own, but that of Cactua. Somehow, telepathic speech was it's preferred method of communicating, though it seemed to only work one way at this time.

"Shh.. Yes, yes Cactua. I'll get you out of there."

Astraea worked quickly to unlock the door. Hades had told her explicitly not to come here, to let what had been confiscated stay that way. It wasn't worth her status, her reputation, to be caught in Pandaemonium of all places.

Click!

Cactua does what Astraea only assumes is a dance of joy, before it quickly ducks itself under her robes and out of sight. Now all she has to do is make her way out of here…

She makes a quick incantation to perform the teleportation spell to take her home and just as the aether begins to fizzle around her, her heart stops.

There, a short distance away, piercing blue eyes bore into her own. Arms crossed, a woman with brown hair begins her way towards her before the spell whisks her away.

Somehow, Astraea feels the icy prickle of that gaze even back at home.

[radiantlightxx]

FFxivWrite2024 Participation Prize

Hanami of the Stalwart Sword, for Cyan // @blackestnight ⚔️

Finally finished my art for FFXIV Write! I had a lot of fun drawing Hanami, I'm so glad to have been able to participate this year! Thank you again Cyan for trusting me with her! <3

@sea-wolf-coast-to-coast

[placesyoucallhome]

ffxivwrite #10- Stable

Half the reason he had gotten an apartment was because Nayzak was getting into too much trouble if he stayed at the inn. In hindsight, L’harir wasn’t sure why he thought this would go any better. 

“Oh ain’t you a nice lookin-- AGHCK GODS DAMNED LET GO--!!” 

If L’harir waited until the unlucky roe man left (one sleeve poorer) he wouldn’t know the ‘nice looking red chocobo’ was his. Hopefully. 

He sighed as the apartment building’s door closed again, hauling his greens and fruit to the triumphantly squawking bird brandishing a newly acquired sleeve. “You are going to get me arrested, you know. Then who will feed you, hmm?” Harir warned, setting the basket in front of Nayzar so he could hold out a hand for the sleeve to drop into. He sighed, only now did he understand his Ma’s reluctance to take in the tiny pink ball of fuzz all those years ago. What could he really do now though? Where else could they go? More worries as he turned to grab a brush and a broom, the troublemaker happily chirping through his meal. 

“Or at least we'll get kicked out of this build- AHH!” Harir stumbled as he turned, another quite suddenly right behind him, and the happy trilling Nayzak was making wasn’t from food, but the sudden addition scritching soft red feathers, beak against his cheek. “FAREED WHE- mm, where the hell did you come from?” 

“IIII would take care of him! Come on look, he loves me!” The red headed miqo’te grinned back at Harir’s tired grimace. 

And the thing Harir hated most about Fareed was, that he was right. 

(Fareed stolen from @midnightmagicks :3 )

[laspocelliere]

Day Twenty-Eight: Deleterious

In darkness and silence, the Ascian appeared in Ishgard.

He wasn’t unfamiliar with the city. In recent years, even, it had come to resemble his familiar Garlemald, locked in an icy grip from which its citizens needed to shelter against. It made them, in his opinion, all the easier to control; fear was quite conveniently sowed where challenges and difficulty lie.

It would likely be ripe to revisit in a few short years. When certain…inconveniences had died off.

In the snow-capped night, Emet-Selch gazed, unimpressed, down on one such inconvenience.

He was asleep, and the state didn’t improve him any. It had taken very little effort for the Ascian to trace the glamoured ring on the hero’s finger to the hollow attempt at a knight who currently lay atop his fully made bed, brow furrowed with restless sleep and nightmares. Worry, likely, and the simplicity and naivete of it all made him want to slit the Commander’s throat where he lay. Save him the mess and the heartbreak that was certain to follow, if he continued to follow his current path.

If he continued to follow her.

Despite knowing the hero of the Source for only a short period, Emet-Selch had known her, instantly and immediately. She reeked of death; destruction followed her like a plague. There was armageddon in those eyes of hers, and anyone who fell into their path would be met with only doom.

He had encountered eyes like hers before.

Only one of them had walked out of it alive.

The same fate waited for this son of Ishgard. The Ascian peered down at him with vague disgust in the darkness, watching the nightmares flit worry across his closed eyelids. With their hero stranded on the First, clearly the pair had been separated, and it was taking its pathetic toll; Emet-Selch could see the dull shadows under the boy’s eyes even in the dim light. He longed and yearned for her in ways that the man Emet-Selch had once been might have done, centuries ago.

Back before he knew what women of her sort could do. What the follies of hearts not meant to be could do to topple a society, to fracture and destroy thousands of lives.

This Warrior held the same nuclear power in her very being.

He intended to use it. Incidentally, by turning her into the weapon she had been designed to become, he would unintentionally save this poor, unassuming boy from the fallout of her blast.

Tilting his head as though studying an insect beneath a magnifying glass, Emet-Selch considered the sleeping knight. He found him lacking and sorely wanting in every way, and the disappointment he felt annoyed him more than it should have. What about this powerless, unimpressive knight had turned the hero’s head on that lovely neck of hers? He was plain, and Emet-Selch had seen similar of his ilk dozens of times over the centuries; princes who thought they could make a difference.

They bled just the same as every one who had come before them.

After a few moments, as his annoyance grew, the Ascian disappeared as seamlessly as he’d arrived. Back to the First, back to the plans he’d laid, and back to their precious hero with her icy anger and fire-torn eyes.

Maybe, in her destruction, he might actually create a net good for the first time in millennia.

[mimble-sparklepudding]

FFXIVwrite2024 Appreciation Post!

Having just recovered from my efforts at completing FFXIVwrite20224 (organised by the inestimable @sea-wolf-coast-to-coast) I thought it might be a good idea to celebrate just some of the excellent writing produced by the FFXIV Community for the event!

Saturnine by @naejlas-axe. A great piece of writing about an OC doing a piece of writing - it's very meta! Plus I suggested the word for it!

Taken by @kannedia. Semi-platonic piratical parleying. I learned that QPR does not always mean the football team!

Bar by @lilbittymonster. Featuring the Chais, who are some of my favourite characters. This one's on the Archive of Our Own site, but it still counts I think.

Two Heads Are Better Than One by @musesofawolf. Fun with Thancred! Definitely a blog you should be following.

Steer by @johnnylandslide. Alisaie takes a driving lesson with a bit of a FFXV crossover.

Perpetuity by @hares-and-hounds. A brief reflective piece. I enjoyed how the entries tracked the character's story at different ages.

Reticent by @starrysnowdrop. A certain Astrologian has an accurate prediction of future events. Hali is always a joy!

Third-Rate by @elliewiltarwyn. A great scene set at the end of ARR/beginning of Heavensward. Plus extra credit to the writer for producing so much work whilst very poorly.

On Cloud Nine by @autumnslance. A unique perspective on events from an unexpected source.

Zip by @ainyan. A short, but sweet little piece that I really liked. Romantic and just a little bit suggestive.

Stamp by @astrology-bf. A little piece of erotic writing about... well erotic writing of a slightly different kind.

Horizon by @otherworldseekers. A particularly nice piece that takes the prompt and does something unexpectedly romantic with it!

Cellar (free day) by @houserosaire. I really enjoyed this piece. Two refined Ishgardian gentleman have a meaningful exchange in a wine cellar.

Shade by @umbralaether. A wistful, but intriguing piece that I enjoyed very much.

Hackneyed by @irisopranta. A piece of fanfiction about fictional fanfiction. I laughed a lot!

Obviously this is just a small selection of writing from a small selection of writers, but definitely worth checking out. I will post a masterlist of my nonsense FFXIVwrite2024 pieces at some point, but I can't promise it will approach the quality of any of these examples!

[tallbluelady]

Horizon

The ship ferrying his comrades to Kugane was well beyond the horizon before Urianger finally took a deep breath and returned to Mor Dhona. He was most glad that he was able to set his relationship with Alisaie out of the darkened pall of betrayal to the slow sunrise of recovery. Their relationship could never be the easy, lighthearted, well-defined sort it had been in Sharlyan, but he yet hoped that it would return to aught worthwhile.

And Rowan... Mistress Argentas would want to know that her gift made it to her daughter. He would find the meaning of the glass pumpkin from her, and possibly glean what would cause such an out pouring of affection from Rowan. He quickly wrote that the gift was received and the recipient was overjoyed to see it. With an inquiry as to the object's meaning, he called the letter finished. Rowan's embrace he would keep to himself. 

[irisopranta]

FFXIV Write Day 9 - Lend An Ear

The sound of the bard’s harp rang through the aether plaza in Ishgard. “Lend me your ear as I tell you the tales of the Warrior of Light.” The young Haillenarte kids came to see what the bard was about to sing. Lucille was intent on hearing about the hero’s tale. Julien, the lover of music that he is, was studying how the bard played, figuring out what notes he was playing. And Noel, he wanted nothing more than to be brave as the hero once was. The three cheer the bard as he finished his song. Afterwards the three headed to their mother’s shop for lunch with her. Fortunately, their father was there As well.

The three were excited, reenacting the stories in the shop. Iris was mostly amused with how her children tried to perform the leaps that a dragoon would. The three ran out of the shop to play with their friends and continue to pretend to be the warrior of light.

“So when are you going tell them?”

“Not for a while. Though I am glad that the bard said that the Warrior was a guy.”

[the-sycophant]

FFXIV Write 2024 - Prompt 01 - Steer

Words | 682 ——————–

“Faster!”

She could imagine it, the bite of wind at her cheeks and ears, the cold at her toes. The sound of snow crunching underneath as she paved her way through it, molding the terrain to her command like she was a god. A god rushing down a smooth, untouched hill on a sleekly polished sled. Her knuckles ached from squeezing the rim of it, her elbows. A bumpy ride regardless, she hit roots and stones. Almost tipped each time.

Almost.

Calyx was a professional at this, even with just his one arm. He had said it was a different creature that had taken it each time she would ask, and always had a different, but elaborate story to go along with it. A morbol, a wolf, a chocobo, a wooly yak that had suddenly been bestowed with the mad desire for human flesh. He had said it was another person, once, too. That interested her the most. He never said that again.

“Watch out! It’s a bear!!”

“I see it.”

His voice was soft, as it always was. She had never heard him speak above a whisper. It helped reign in her delighted screeching. 

Somewhat.

“A BEAR!! I’m gonna jump over it…and it’s not gonna get me!”

Wicker creaked as she tugged on its handles, trying to pick up speed, trying to BE speed. She was going to fly over it, she could see it in her mind. She could make the jump! She bent low in her sled-

“Oh, but what reach it has!”

“Calyx!!”

“It’s gonna get ya!”

She did fall, then, as the arm holding the basket she sat in made her fall. Made her tumble to the ground and squeal. The stone was not as fluffy as she imagined snow to be. It wasn’t at all like falling into a cloud of iced cream. “Waaaaah!” A loud, albeit playful, wail as said bear did get her. Her laughs were shrill, hiccuping, face red as she was tickled, as he *chomp chomp chomped* at her. “W-wait! My…my dress! My…you’re getting it dirty!”

He sat back, apologized, murmured that it was ‘just life’, that bears ‘had to eat too’.

But he had gotten her this dress- a coat, really. Powder blue and fluffed with so much fluff, balls of fur puffing out and swinging on woven strings. Pretty wooden buttons and shiny, pearlescent stitchings. She dusted herself off, stood. It was her most favourite dress. The prettiest. He had seen it while he was away, said he thought she would look cute in it. She did. She looked very cute, felt very pretty. “I wanna go again!”

“Now-”

“I wanna…I wanna…the bear- I was gonna fly over it. I was going so fast. Did you see!”

“Yes.”

“And I almost made it the whole way down this time.” She picked up her shiny sled, the wicker basket. Hoisted it over her head and held it high. “And I almost made it. And I couldn’t get around the bear.”

“I know.”

“I wanna go again, Cal! I wanna-”

“Brother.” 

She jumped, shrieked. Dropped the basket on her head and started running before she was grabbed. The basket grabbed. She wriggled, fought.

She was held.

“Mother would be displeased.” The masked man rumbled, eying the pair. Eying her dress.

They were to be reprimanded for ‘slacking’, for being caught outside of prayer.

“P-please, Cal…can’t I keep it? It’s mine!”

She was wailing proper now, blubbering into the pretty sleeve of her pretty dress as she held his hand. “It’s mine and you…and you got it for me! Please don’t let them take it away! It’s mine! I like it! I’m sorry- please don’t take it away!”

It was dark where they were going. It only made her cry harder.

“I-I-it’s mine and…I just wanna…go sledding I...I’ll let you steer this time, It’s…I just got it- it’s mine and…and…”

And he only said that he would get her a new one. When he could take her to see real snowy hilltops, feel the real wind and cold...then he’d get her a new one.

One of many lies.

[yzeltia]

FFXIVwrite2024 18. Hackneyed

Featuring: @scrollsfromarebornrealm Weird West AU Characters: Themis, Rrahnald Chai (U'rahn Nuhn), Fordola Lupis Expansion: Endwalker Rating: T Summary: Rrahn arrives at the total honesty part of his relationship well before Themis. Notes:

“In the same fleeting moment thou shall live, die, and know.”

Themis closed his tome and looked out into the sparse congregation only having a handful of the elder townsfolk in attendance along with Claudien Hephaistos in front nodding reverently along and Rrahn staring dreamily at him with Fordola beside him at the back. He felt the side of his mouth twitch, wanting to smile; however, kept his even composure. “Now, let us bow our heads and give thanks to the Mother and Father,” he said, closing his eyes and lowering his head.

The room fell into quiet murmurs and shifting, many going to their knees, Fordola among them. Rrahn squirmed a bit then joined his friend, settling beside her before leaning over. “What are you wishing for?”

“Wish!? What do you mean-,” Fordola balked before shaking her head and pushing Rrah’s head to face downward, “I’m wishing for you to have some damn sense. Be quiet and sit still if you’re not going to pray.”

“Okay,” Rrahn mumbled, putting his hands together to stare at the floor. “Dear Zodiark and Hydaelyn. It’s me, Rrahn. Please take good care of my family and friends. Also, I would really like a new repeating muzzleloader. Thank you.”

Fordola scoffed then jabbed him in the side before she got back up into her seat. Themis seeing the congregation start to rise, leaned over his pulpit. “Go forth and walk in the light of the Mother and be protected by the shadows of the Father. I hope to see you all this coming sabbath.”

People began to make their way out of their rows, some coming up to shake Themis’s hands and others taking their leave to their homes until only Rrahn remained, smiling at him in his earnest way. He felt his heart flutter, a feeling he’d not felt since he was, well Rrahn’s age. Realizing this, the feeling turned into guilt, having yet to approach the subject of his past with his budding paramour.

Wandering down the aisle, he moved to sit next to Rrahn, the other patiently waiting for him. His hand gently laid over the other’s giving it a small squeeze as he looked up at the dark blue tapestries with white and violet inlay. “How did you like the sermon?”

“Ah, well. It was okay,” Rrahn said, squeezing Themis’s hand back as he sat up to free his tail to wrap about the other’s waist.

Themis blinked, surprised at the other’s lukewarm reception compared to his usual clumsy attempts at flattery. “Only okay? Did you find something wanting?”

“Well. It’s kinda dark and dreary in here and you’re talking about hope and stuff. The townsfolk say it’s kinda spooky here so if you open up a few windows and let the light in. Oh! And then I’d be able to see your handsome face more,” Rrahn explained, scooting his thigh against Themis’s.

“Well, there’s a certain-” Themis started before Rrahn perked up.

“Oh! And you need better songs. They’re all so sad,” Rrahn continued.

“The, ancient, sacred hymns?”

“Yeah Yeah! Those are real downers! You gotta get everyone super excited to be here! Maybe get a whole chorus that can rile up the crowd for you! Put a spin on them!”

Themis stared quietly at Rrahn as he looked eagerly back at him. “You don’t perhaps think the tonality is to be soothed by the Mother’s love and the Father’s sacrifice?” he asked.

“Yeah, but you can be excited about those things too, right?”

A sigh escaped Themis, conflicted as to whether he should feel a bit insulted by the other’s criticism of his life’s passion or happy the other felt close enough to him that he could be so honest with him. The latter was winning out, though that didn’t come with the pangs of guilt.

“Ah. So um…we’re all alone now and more modestly dressed. Do you think we could maybe exchange a few smoochies,” Rrahn asked, waggling his eyebrows as he drew. 

Themis recoiled, standing up while untangling the tail around him.

Rrahn fell forward, catching himself in the pew before looking up at Themis as he held himself. What’s wrrrong?”

 “I think you might benefit from the chapel’s intended use instead. Quiet, self-reflection,” Themis said before moving to start blowing dark flamed candles around the room.

“There’s no mirrors in here though,” Rrahn said, watching Themis pause, hang his head, then return to what he was doing.

[winddragonart]

FFXIV Write 2024 #1: Steer

Mother Crystal dimmed Fate of the Star in our hands Let's do right by her