#ffxiv writes 2023

[zeloinator]

my FFXIV writes 2023 Prompt 1; Envoy entry! Posting them on m Ao3 account and then here as well! Trying to force myself to share my writing and not immediatly delete it.

Heavensward / Endwalker spoilers

Zee goes to Ishgard to delivery several important messages.

[nabaath-areng]

writing game: post the last line that you wrote and tag someone for every word in the line.

Tagged by: @captainqster @justalittleraven @disaster-husbun @neoma-eltanin @cosmicharm thank you all! <3

The boy is too sweet, too earnest for his own good. It’s no wonder he keeps ending up in trouble, and that just makes him even more lovely.

Tagging: @amberwound @vaynglories @wanderersofeorzea @avampyone @sealrock @ahollowgrave @iron-sparrow @mist-touchedxiv @draculas-husband @ffxivtribehydrae @scholarlostintime @yloiseconeillants @zylphiacrowley @ishgardianskypirate @tivaphoenix @feralkwe @mythandral @witcherbatard I have no idea who has done this or how many tags I'm just machine gunning it now but ANYONE ELSE FEEL FREE you're tagged by me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[mimble-sparklepudding]

Prompt #28: Blunt.

I once tried a dalliance with Jacke,

But it turned out I don't have the knack,

He said "I'll be blunt,

You're no good at the front,

So perhaps you should try round the back?"

Absolutely innocent and wholesome silliness.

[umbralaether]

FFXIV Write 2023

Prompt: Ring

A pair of ring-shaped stains of hot cocoa left behind on the desk.

That was the first haunted piece of him she discovered after the initial purge of his things from her room. She could not stand to see the remnants, the things left behind after his soul ceased to be, and chose to pack them away and deliver to House Fortemps. “Take them, please, I cannot bear it.”

It nagged, though. A sharp sense of loss, of emptiness.

She forces herself forward, into her duty, picking up odd jobs on the side. She wanted to stay busy, occupied enough to prevent more ghosts from sneaking in, yet no joy was found in helping others. They saw benevolence where she hid her pain— she was only doing it to quiet the noise of blame ringing over and over in her ears. Should have been faster, stronger… should have never let him come…

After the empty, came the numb.

She no longer cared about the lingering stares of others when the lack of sleep formed dark rings under her eyes— a consequent worth the cost, for memories that refused to fade. She begged to forget, not continue to find him in yellow blooms and light blue cloth, in the smell of chocolate and mint, rich and delicate. She swears to never love again, not like this.

But time goes on, as it always does. The loss fades, and wounds heal, the grief now but a small wisp of hurt.

She feels the warm glow of joy in her chest again when helping others. She laughs when Alisaie and Alphinaud bicker, finds fascination with Y’shtola’s theories and Thancred’s attempts at beating her at cards.

She warms, and learns to smile again.

[uncommonsprig]

FFxivWrite2023 Participation Prize

It’s Fink ya’ll!!!!

[thevikingwoman]

Inspired by this wolquestion and discord discussion thx friends for rotting my brain

Fandom: FFXIV | Words: 431 | Read on Ao3

Emmanellain de Fortemps & Meryta Khatin | Somewhere between 3.3 and 4.0 | friendship, fluff Rating: G. bad romance writing, hint at fantasy racism, friends being silly, maybe the WoL has time to relax once, past Emmanellain/Meryta

The Perils of Ishgard Publishing Houses

Emmanellain de Fortemps is sprawled on the couch, feet dangling over the armrest, empty wine bottle at the floor beside him, full glass beside it. His attention is focused on the book in his hands, the cover boldly reading Taming the Warrior - a High House Novel.

Across from him, Meryta leans back among the pillows on the oversized armchair. A half empty wine glass sits on the table in front of her.

"Delightful," Emmanellain grins, and continues to read aloud: "Meryta sighs, her leaf-green skin a contrast against Atoriel’s red doublet, and looks up at him, her orbs brimming with unshed tears. Her sweet pillowy bosoms heave... "

Emmanellain looks up at her, waggling his eyebrows. "Pillowy indeed. How fondly I remember —"

Meryta groans, and tosses a pillow at him, hitting him squarely in the face.

"Anyway.  She leans against Atoriel’s broad and solid chest and says: Oh Atoriel, I love you so much. We must be together. I will give up adventuring for you and only fight for the glory of house Fortemps! Atoriel kisses her brow, and looks at the horizon with his cruel blue eyes – cruel alright got that right – his chiseled jaw is as sharp as his words.”

"I am afraid it would not work my darling. My Father would not allow it, someone so foreign as the wife of his heir. I love you darling, but it cannot be."

Emmanellain scoffs and stops reading.

“Ha! At this point I'm sure Father will be happy if my dear brother married a nice boy and adopted some brume rats as heirs. Not that it will ever happen; who’d want to spend that much time with him.”

“Someone likes him, Emmanellain. At least the person who wrote the book seems to think him very handsome.” Meryta grins and amends, “And I think you’re doing your brother a disservice. He’s trying to help your father the best he can.”

Emmanellain sits up and grabs his wine glass. He sticks out his chin, pouting.

“Meryta, pretty girl. Do you think my jaw is chiseled?”

“Emmanellain. You're handsome enough on your own. Stop it.”

He drinks down half his wine, and flops back into the couch.

“Alright - let me skip to the good part. There should be a chapter where the Lord Speaker and my dear brother spars half naked. It's very dramatic, according to the reviewers.”

“Reviewers? How many people are reading this? Spare me! Tell me of you latest Ul’dah ball instead.”

Meryta throws a pillow over her face, and Emmanellain laughs and starts flipping the pages.

[scrollsfromarebornrealm]

Prompt #2: Bark

Haurchefant toed the body of a slain imperial solider, a scowl crossing his features. The Fury had seemed to favor Camp Dragonhead. Some hours before he'd received word of imperial troops having made it into Coerthas under cover of a blizzard. When it came to Garlean encroachment upon his home, the Silver Fuller only had one rule.

Annihilation.

Even more so now, considering that Fortemps' holding was the home of the Fury's chosen vessels--Augustine and Mathye Bishop. The silver-haired elezen exhaled, breath puffing out in white clouds. Behind him he could hear the bark of orders being given, Corentiaux was directing the clean-up effort. The clear weather wouldn't last long, another storm was predicted to move in.

"This is the third anti-magic squad in as many months." He commented. "I feel I need to ask, has the Fury directed you to pass judgement upon the nonbelievers and I wasn't invited?"

"If there was an offensive against the Empire, you would be the first one we'd invite." Snow crunching under his boots, the blue-armored form of Augustine Bishop came up alongside the master of Camp Dragonhead. No longer semi-Primed, he was back to his normal self.

"As for this, you've heard the news from outside. The Black Wolf is on the march." Augustine squatted next to the dead man, patting him down and inspecting his pockets.

"With how he took over Ala Mhigo, it makes sense that he'd look at us. You know how the Vault reacted to my brother's Priming. And Ser Wrymblood's own. We're all just only barely getting along and even then."

"Scouts." Haurchefant mused.

"We're probably not the only ones dealing with this. Ser Borel's contacts have told him that Ifrit, Titan, and Garuda are active. Plus there was word of a unknown Eikon showing up in Limsa." Augustine considered the small pile of items he'd put together. Scraps of paper, a tomestone, a carved figurine of a man in red wood, and a locket. The tomestone was set to the side, along with the papers. The figurine and the locket went back in the dead man's pockets.

"May you enjoy peace on the other side." He murmured, bowing his head. Haurchefant echoed the prayer, watching as Augustine stood up.

"So the Black Wolf is testing for weaknesses then?" He asked. "That makes for ill hearing." Augustine didn't respond immediately, his gaze flicking towards the Nail.

"If I were you, I'd see about getting some men together to investigate Castrum Aquilonis." He said. "Like you said, the third incursion as in many months? They can't be coming from outside."

[eorziapple]

FFXIV WRITE 2023 Prompt 1: Envoy

(( Character: Apple Silverberg, Setting: WoL Apple Mild Endwalker spoilers))

"So we're playing at diplomats?" Apple queried

Thancred flashed her that reassuring smile that always somehow made her worry -more-. "Not entirely playing at that, we mean to get them on board to helping Eorzia, and well, the entire world."

"Thine confusion is quite understandable." Urianger piped in. "Thus is our intended result, yet -not- the approach in which we aim to achieve this endeavor, despite Master Alphinaud's ever optimistic outlook."

Apple chuckled, remembering her first meeting with the young Leveilleur, far too young and far too confident, trying to impress the upper classmen like herself. Very much the opposite approach to her time at Old Sharlayan.

"Precisely." Thancred turns to pack up his pack and furling his long jacket over his shoulders. "We're just old Students visiting home. Can't be blamed if in doing so we discover the source of their reluctance to aid their fellow man and convince them of the folly of their ways."

Apple sighed and began packing, "Curious though, why are we waiting for the others to go first? I figured my cover as an Arcanist would play better alongside Y'shtola?"

Thancred shoots Urianger an amused look, while the latter takes one on himself as he looks down to his young charge.

"My Lady, thou art most esteemed amongst thy peers in both intellect and arcane might. But on the subject of subterfuge and deception...."

"Apple, everyone knows you're a terrible liar. We're here to do it on your behalf."

Another frustrated sigh escapes her lip.

[vulpes-ferus]

FFXIV Write 2023 #8: Shed

Three

Hundred

Years

The world had changed in so many ways - so many wars, so many advancements - and yet, the people were seemingly no different.

'Miyako', so she'd long ago dubbed herself in the tongue of man, had decided it was time to shed her old skin - her old self. The face of a woman who had won the love of a noble... the face of a woman who had gotten swept up in human emotions, only to be caught like the fox she'd actually been.

There was no chance that anyone would recognize her, now - the Doman face she'd stolen all those years ago had been from centuries prior to the lives of these little people. All the same, the East remembered other things - the people of the East knew to be wary of the drifting lights at night. They knew to beware the soft, feminine call for help at the side of the road... they might not know about her - but the legends of her kind had survived. And no doubt, the other auspices she knew were about in the East would eventually sniff her out and take her away somewhere else no doubt far more boring.

And so Akane had taken a new face, as she danced beneath the light of the moon - a more difficult task, with four legs instead of two - but that was the way the ancient deed was done; to become a man, one must first return to fur, and forest: the perfect stick, the perfect leaf, the perfect skull... the perfect dance, the perfect song.

A new face, for a new age.

A new skin, for a new land.

And in her new hand - the soft, white glow of the same soul - the small orb-like pendant still strung on a slip of crimson silk ribbon.

[eemamminy-art]

Estimeric Week 2023 Day 6 - "Yearning"

Title: Chipped Porcelain Rating: T Summary: When reports of a distinct dragoon being sighted in the Lochs reach Aymeric, it's all he can do to maintain his composure. As he leads his knights into battle, Aymeric begins to unravel at the seams. Additional warnings: Stormblood (4.0) spoilers, canon-typical violence

Read it here

Additional image under the cut:

Here is the full unedited artwork as well. I used an in-game screenshot I took as reference for both the figure and the landscape!

[the-sycophant]

FFXIV Write 2023 - Prompt 04 - Off the Hook

Words | 795 -------------------- The heat was an undeniable burden, the light blouse she wore immediately clinging to skin even after leather gloved fingers attempted to tug at it for a bit of relief. The air was stagnant, quiet, each buzz of an insect or rustling in the underbrush only drawing her lips down further into a frown. She half wondered if she might see her breath in a puff of steam, reminiscent of home, the heat prickling her skin in uncomfortable ways as she fidgeted.

She pinched at the fabric sticking to her breasts, the toe of one boot scratching at an ankle before moving to kick at a sorry root that had been beaten down from the same repetitive motion. Long eyelashes fluttered, irritated by sticky, ash blonde bangs.

Her teeth chewed into the flesh of her cheek, nibbling into it as a distraction from the unbearable boredom of her station, digits now tapping a wild rhythm against her thigh. "I think we've waited long enough." Came her grumble then, hoarse. "There will be nothing for us by the end of this."

"Such impatience." Returned an equally low murmur as her companion moved for the first time in what felt like hours compared to her own constant squirming, the tips of his gauntlets scratching at his throat. "You know as soon as we finish you must return, yes? You do so...rrrarely get out, I'd thought you'd enjoy it more."

Her gloves creaked, palm sliding back and forth over the hilt of her blade, dancing along the engraved ridge of the ricasso. "You know what I enjoy, more so what I have the patience for." She tossed it up, twirling it once in the air, then a second time before attempting to catch it behind her back. "I have been on my very best behaviour and still," the poignard bounced in the grass, thumping softly before she bent to retrieve it with a huff, exasperated with the minimal effort, "and still I am stuck here with you."

"You? Stuck with me?"

She looked up at him up in his perch, frowning at the tone and baring her teeth briefly. It wasn't something she would dare press further into despite the burning need to lash out against the bait dangled so temptingly in front of her. More so with his impassive attitude. "The more quickly we finish, the more quickly we can pretend it has taken us longer than it actually has, yes?" She suggested with a sniff, a hand resting against his tree as she tilted her head to the side. "You could take me into town, you know. I would still be on my best behaviour even for you. I wouldn't tell anyone!"

He hummed. "Mother has a prrroclivity for spoiling you still, I see."

"Such is my nature, is it not? To crave more?" The muscles in her legs were taut, certainly more used to downy pillows and laced stockings than stiff boots and, gods forbid, standing. She couldn't help but squat against the tree, glaring at...everything. Carelessly she ripped out sprouts of budding grass, pouting childishly as her tone dipped into a near whine. "It isn't my fault she indulges me, is it? Not only that, but is that not why you left home? In search for more?" Another sniff, indignant. "She would show you just as much affection were you to stop your travels and visit more often."

An easy shrug. "Perhaps. I can't really say." A flick of long ears, swatting and swiveling at pesky bugs, the thin tip of his tail doing the same. Was he more sweet than she, to have such attention from them? An odd sort of jealousy nipped at her heels. "She certainly does love us equally, though it cannot be denied some children are more needy than others."

She folded her hands around her knees, rocking. "Some like feeling needed, you know." He hummed again, and she made a noise of displeasure. "They do. Is that not why you've brought me along?"

"No."

A long pause, silence meeting her ears once more as she waited for him to elaborate. He didn't. She wasn't sure if he was trying to rile her up, to try and alleviate his own boredom at her expense, as he did. He seemed otherwise content to sit still in silence, but she preferred movement and sound.

As her mouth opened for something witty, surely, they both jerked their heads westward, his ears turning and her nostrils flaring. Blood. Limping. The sounds of an attempted escape snapping branches and rustling leaves. "I am at your ready, sister." He said quietly, and the Keeper was still once more. It seemed he was off the hook for conversation, and she grinned at more interesting prospects quickly approaching.

[mimble-sparklepudding]

Prompt #10: Extra Credit/Free Choice.

I've named my chocobo Chrysanthemum,

And I want to compose her an anthem chum,

But it's hard to make rhyme,

So I'm finding that I'm,

So desperate for words I might ransom some.

Practically unrhymable silliness. You can blame @pinxli for putting me up to trying to rhyme bloody "Chrysanthemum"! Never let it be said I back down from a challenge, although judging by this nonsense, I probably should have done!

[umbralaether]

FFXIV Write 2023

Prompt: Shed

The storm clouds rolled in fast, and the rain just as sudden.

A torrential downpour interrupting what was supposed to be cherished moment-- one where he would ask for her hand in marriage, at the same place they'd shared their first kiss all those years ago. It had been perfect until now; a beautiful sunset, her favorite meal… he couldn't think of a better night to finally dive in headfirst.

Instead, icy rain soaked every inch of them as they made their way back to Revenant's Toll.

"I apologize for not minding the weather sooner. This was not my intent," He takes her hand in his, leading towards the Rising Stones. They head inside, down the hall and up the stairs to their shared room. The candles and fireplace were already lit, the room warm and inviting.

"Let us shed these wet clothes, I'll run a warm bath."

"Raha, wait."

"Yes, my love?"

"I have something for you." Her expression is coy, knowing. She pulls out a small box from her bag, "You left this back there. I spotted it before we ran off."

Is that what he thinks it is? Shit.

He takes it from her, "Oh, I… yes that is mine."

"I take it you weren't overly flustered just because of the rain."

"Well… it was certainly a surprise."

Aqua eyes meet crimson. She rests her hand on his cheek, "You can still ask, you know. Though my answer is the same."

He swallows. This isn't how he planned it to be, never expected it to be! And to ask now? He looks at her, hair dripping droplets of rain and clothes clinging to her frame, and sees the strong, brave woman who saved the world. He sees his best friend, his better half, and decides that no moment could be more perfect than when he'd asked on the Ragnarok.

So he asks again, "Eisha, will you marry me?"

Her answer is a grin, then a pounce, and finally shedding those wet clothes.

[antlers-and-omens]

FFXIV Write #26: Last

Every week, it grew more challenging to last through until the weekend, and the hunt awaited. He was strong-willed, but... supernaturally so? Not quite.

It was when his thoughts turned sour that he knew it was time to depart the Saucer - when lascivious thoughts became murderous ones; when creative thoughts became bloody... he was grateful for the space he'd made between himself, and everyone else.

How long could life last like this, though? How long until he had to tell someone... how long before he couldn't? He'd taken a deal only a dead man would make - because that's what he'd been. There were only bad options - die then, die later to the demon, or have the demon possess him fully in time. It had bought him time, but was it enough to find the answers he sought?

Were there answers?

Did he even know how to find them?

Who did he trust enough to ask? Would people be more inclined to put him down, than risk the power of this demon being free again?

And... was that the right thing to do?

He'd just have to hold out long enough to avoid having to answer that question.

[thevikingwoman]

Meryta passes through Onokoro on the way to Riesen temple, and has a very good time.

Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV | Words: 4518 | Read on Ao3

Meryta Khatin x Tansui | After SB patch 4.3 | smut Rating: Explicit. SB 4.3 spoilers, mild Four Lords trial spoilers, Sexual content, casual relationship, Tansui being cheeky, Meryta too tbh, piv sex, oral, a bit roughness, aura head canons, confederacy headcanons, pwp

Passing Through

Meryta could, perhaps, have travelled by way of Tamamizu, but no matter how nice the kojin are, she does prefer staying above water. So, when she needs to go to Riesen Temple again, she finds herself in Onokoro.

And when she’s here, it would be rude not to pay a visit to Tansui. And Rasho of course. They are – allies, of sorts – with the Scions, and it would be discourteous to make use of their aetheryte without a greeting.

She finds Tansui on the docks, working on a small boat, painting its stern. He’s bare-chested, a paint streak on his shoulder where he has brushed against the boat.

“The Warrior of Light graces us with her presence. What doom do you bring now? Are there Garleans in your tow?”

Meryta barely stops herself from rolling her eyes. There is trouble if they don’t fix Koryu’s ward, but she doesn’t need to trouble the Confederacy with that.

“I’m just passing through, Tansui. And it’s Meryta, please.”

He grins, and turns to the boat and his paint.

“Alright, Meryta. Will you be staying a while, then, or does your errand demand haste of you?”

She looks at his back and his sunburnt shoulders.

“Perhaps I will.”

Tansui bends and washes his brush in the seawater. “I am all but done here. Did you give your greetings to Rasho already, or did you seek me out first?”

Heat rises in her cheeks, and she ignores it.

“I saw you from the aetheryte plaza.”

“Walk with me then.” Tansui bends to pick up his haori, folded neatly on the dock.

“Wait!” Meryta reaches for it, stopping his hands. Tansui raises an eyebrow. She runs a gloved finger across his back, below the sun-yellow paint. “You have paint on your shoulder – you’d ruin it.”

“Ah. Thank you.”

He kneels on the dock, and scoops the seawater in his hands, splashing it across his back, missing the paint entirely.  

“You missed,” she says, already kneeling next to him, unbuckling the fastenings of her armored gloves.

“Ever ready for battle,” Tansui shakes his head and grabs a rag from his bucket, dipping it in water. Her left glove lands with a clatter beside her, and she simply takes the wet rag for his hand, and wipes it awkwardly across his back. She does not linger.

“And ever helpful,” Tansui continues, eyes sparkling.

They both get up, she holding her glove in her hand, and him shrugging on his embroidered garment. She knows exactly how soft the silk feels against her skin, and fights the urge to look away, instead holding his gaze.

Together, they walk the dock towards the beach settlement, back where she came from.

“Let me put these away,” he gestures to his paints and brushes, “and then here is the matter of the tithe, of course. You better go see Rasho as I mentioned.”

“I already paid the aetheryte fee,” she grumbles.

Tansui laughs. “That is not collected for us. And I had rather hoped you would stay a little, to catch up if you have interest.”

His smile is bright, the sun reflecting off his black and purple hair. She remembers it, unbound and spread beneath her. This time, she looks away from him.

“Let me settle the tithe, then.”

They make their way up the beach, waves crashing, idly talking of the returned Domans, the many who have joined the Confederacy – and some of their number who left, to be reunited with their family. She wonders about Tansui’s family, but she does not ask. They pass a guard standing lookout at a rock, Tansui nodding at him. There’s a dead landjelly by his feet, and no more around. She keeps her hand on her katana just in case.

“And what of the viceroy? The former viceroy. All snuck and tucked in with the Domans?”

Meryta frowns, a bitter taste on her tongue. It seems he is not aware of the details of what happened in Castrum Fluminis.

“She’s dead.”

“I sense it was not a well-considered dispersal of justice.”

“Her brother – her step brother – goaded her until she turned into a Primal. At that point there was no option but to slay her.”

Something about it feels hollow, another day, another primal, but here in the sun she doesn’t dwell on it. She tells the whole tale – how Asahi had planned this, provoking Yotsuyu until she remembered her past, smuggling crystals under the guise of a gift. How he was killed too.

“I don’t think she deserved the end she got,” she says “Or the life she lived. I – see things, with the Echo, of people’s lives and past sometimes. It’s powerful and sometimes unpleasant, and I saw how her stepparents treated her, sold her away to a brothel.”

Something passes over Tansui’s face, something she can’t quite read. Anger replaced by grief or determination.

“We all get hands dealt to us we may not like, but it’s up to us to make of it what we do. She didn’t have to hurt that many people. Perhaps it was for the best. Tell me, what do you mean – you see things of the past?”

She tries to explain as best she can, how it’s beyond her control, seemingly at random and sometimes with headaches to follow. How it made her see enough of Yotsuyu’s life to feel saddened at the way it ended.

“I wasn’t sure sparing her was the right call, initially, and glad it wasn’t my choice,” she says. “But now I’m less certain, other than it shouldn’t have ended like that. She wasn’t going to hurt anyone.”

“You believed her. That she lost her memory.”

She nods, as they reach a shed. Tansui unlocks it to put away his paints and Meryta follows him inside.

“I guess the choice was taken from us – but I shall tell the Captain. Had he insisted, I would have slain her if no one else had.”

She regards him, defiant chin and eyes, and she’s not going to argue. His loyalty is unquestionable, bright and simple, and she respects all that comes with it. She nods in understanding.

“For better or for worse, it’s over now.”

“Aye – and I’m glad you made it through another fight.”  Tansui smiles, and in the darkness of the shed, he raises a hand to her face, brushing the hair out of her eyes. Something undefined changes between them, alone as they are here. “You’ve cut it.”

“I wanted a change.”

“It suits you.”

His hand is still on her face, and he buries it in her hair, pulling her close and then they’re kissing. The spark of desire she’s felt every time she’s run into him since Isari, every time he’s helped; flares and bursts into flame. The kiss is gentle at first, but it quickly turns demanding, Tansui’s tongue running across her lips and she yields to him, letting him in, their tongues entangled. He backs her against the table, lifting her up. The feel of him is intoxicating, and she wants more. She can feel him harden against her, and she’s wearing far too many clothes and armor and layers. Tansui kisses her throat, running the flat of his tongue against the scales there, and he pushes closer.

A jar of brushes clashes to the floor, tin clanging and the brushes scatted on the dirt floor. She gathers herself a moment, and he’s too damn handsome as he grins sheepishly, scratching his beard.

“Stay for dinner?” he asks.

“I should have time.”

“Perhaps I can also offer a bed this time.” Tansui winks, and leaves her to follow, her cheeks heating as she straightens her collar.

--

As the sun goes down, the confederates gather at the wooden platforms up above, under the stars. Tansui brings her there, sitting with him and Rasho and others at a long table. Hearty foods are served, grilled fish and rice and miso dengaku. The conversation is lively and loud and happy. It’s not every day they share a communal meal, Tansui tells her, but it is not infrequent. It seems this week has been especially profitable, the seas rife with ships. Not to mention the gil she dropped in Rasho’s lap earlier, while Tansui made sure they made space for her at dinner. She’ll call it dinner payment and be done, no matter how indignant Tataru will be of it. It’s her own money and she doesn’t have to justify her spending.

Now, she’s talking with a Hyur woman who recently joined, a former Garlean conscript. Happy and bright-eyed, the women tells of her day on patrol. She seems excited by her new life here, free and full of hope. Meryta wonders, if she’d left home through the Ruby Seas, if she’d ever made it to Eorzea, or simply stuck here, found the life of adventure she was seeking. No need to speculate – her travels took her elsewhere and there is little point in regrets or second guessing.

Tansui laughs at something Rasho says, and her attention drifts to him, from his dark eyes to where his thigh is pressed against hers. She doesn’t regret stopping by here now either.

After dinner, everyone seems to scatter in a rush of activity – a number of people start to clear away the tables and some leave for patrol, exchanging places with those coming back grabbing bowls of still warm food. Someone opens a bottle of sake, and someone brings out a deck of Triple Triad.

“I’ve hope you’ve enjoyed our hospitality tonight,” Tansui says. “And I hope you’ll enjoy it further.”

“I wouldn’t say no to a game,” she says, tilting her head towards the cardplayers, and winks.

“Here I thought I could offer your something better, in ways of entertainment.”

“And what may that be, Tansui?”

“Mayhap a tour of the lieutenant’s quarters.” He steps into her space, crowding her, and then shrugs with feigned indifference.

“A private tour, I assume?”

“Very much so.”

“Lead the way, then,” she says and sneaks her hand into his.

--

They pull off their shoes outside his door, and step inside. It’s a simple room in the larger dwelling, a kitchen area with a small table separated from the rest by a screen. A bed, a drawer, a washbasin and a mirror. A chair with pillows and more strewn on the mat on the floor, the room bathed in warm lights.

“Well, here we are. Not much, perhaps, but it’s mine.”

“It’s lovely.”  She drops her gloves on the mat, and turns to him, and takes him in, her eyes roaming over him, his cheeky smile and his broad chest. “I’m enjoying the tour.”

Tansui steps forward and kisses her, fierce and passionate. His beard scrapes against her lips, and she opens her mouth to let him in. He pulls her close as the kiss goes on, eager as if he’s been waiting all night to do this once more. She knows she has, and wraps both hands around his neck.

After a while he pulls back, and she chases him, wanting more, already pushing his garment off his shoulders, the very same accursed ones she saw from the aetheryte earlier, making her pause her trip. His skin is warm under her hands.

“Better get those off you before you poke my eyes out,” Tansui says, hands moving to the pauldrons, and true enough, she’s overdressed and over armored. The pauldrons follow the gloves in the pile on the mat.

“I was on my way somewhere,” she says, fidgeting with her belt.

“Yet you found time,” he says, and deftly works the knots on her coat.

“I found time.”

The sashes and belts on her coat undone, Meryta places her katana next to where his lance rests against the wall in the corner. Her coat slips off her, and she’s no longer overdressed, and returns her attention to him, hungrily follows the trail of hairs from his belly down below the hem of his pants with her eyes. She wants to touch, and she does, sliding her hands down his chest, question in her eyes as she dips her hands beneath his pants. He’s half hard and she caresses him, as he nods and pulls her in for another searing kiss.

She slides his pants down his legs, and Tansui undoes her breast band, flinging it somewhere. Their hands are roaming, exploring, and he bends, his mouth on her neck, his hand on her breast. He caresses, mapping her skin under his hands, and so does she, tracing a scar on his shoulder, kissing where she can reach. A thumb teases her nipple and she whimpers, causing him to repeat.

“Gorgeous,” he says.

“Handsome,” she counters, and she kisses his chest, experimentally flicking her tongue over his nipple in turn. He lets out a low sound at that, so she does it again. His hand scramble on her back, and she wants – she wants him, and she want to taste and touch all of him.

She kisses a small scar on his sternum, white with age and almost invisible. He’s pressed hotly against her, his hardness enticing against her skin. Meryta sinks to the floor in front of him, kissing his belly, the top of his thigh, avoid his cock jutting out in front of him, tempting as it is.

“Meryta…”

“Yes?” She kisses his other thigh, and scrapes her teeth along it experimentally. His hips jerk slightly and she does it again. She looks up at him, his strong legs and solid shoulders, his handsome face above her. His eyes burn with desire, igniting her own.

“Something you wanted?”

She kisses the point of his hips, careful of the tips of her horns. His skin is soft all over, no scales to protect him. She ghosts her hand over his cock, then runs a finger up it, watching him twitch.

“Suck me,” he says, rough and demanding. She shivers and complies, engulfing the head of his cock in her mouth. She swirls her tongue around it, delighting in the groan she elicits from him.

Gripping the base of his cock with one hand, she takes him deeper, her hand preventing her from scratching her horns against his groin. His hands clench at his sides, before one strokes her cheek, the other landing awkwardly on her shoulder. She hollows her cheeks and sucks, moving her hand along with the mouth. Tansui digs his blunt nails into her shoulder, the pressure on her scales welcome. She moans around his cock, looking up at him, hopefully encouraging.

He moves his other hand along her horn to the back of her head, gentle like a question. She nods as she can, breathing through her nose and taking him a bit deeper, moving a bit faster with her hand and her mouth. Tansui groans and adds pressure on his hand. She feels hot, slickness pooling between her legs, trapped between the hand in her hair and the heaviness of his cock in her mouth. He pushes into her, moving his hips in a even rhythm, not forcing himself into her but holding her steady. Her own need grows with his loss of composure, with every thrust he makes into her mouth. Her cunt clenches and throbs, wanting him to lose himself in her.

“Meryta, I…” He gaps and tugs on her hair until she lets up, reluctantly letting him slip out of her mouth. She looks up at him, tall above her, his eyes glassy and breath coming in pants. He must be close, the salty taste of him on her tongue and she wants to continue, to swallow him down and have him come in her mouth, but she waits.

Tansui takes a breath and smiles down at her, caressing her cheek.

“There was something about a bed, I believe. I want you in it.”

She’s not opposed, not at all, the thought of being close to him excites her too, feeling all of him above or beneath her. She gets up and he kisses her, hungry and openmouthed and without restraint. She groans into his mouth or maybe he does, his hips stuttering. Arms sliding down to her ass, he lifts her and carries her to the bed, three steps across the small room.

He sets her on the colorful bedspread, running her hand down her torso, pushing her back. She falls willingly. Following, he caresses her breasts and she arches off the bed when he rolls both her nipples between his hands. Back in control of himself, he observes her, how she moans and gasps – his name too, which makes him grin. She files that away for later. He drags his hand down belly, pressing into her scales. She wants more, she wants him closer, and she’s tired of waiting, already so slick and wanting from sucking his dick. She pulls him down over her, but he resists and she relents.

“Eager,” he says, and runs a single finger down to her slit, to her wetness. She’s not ashamed of wanting, and barely stops herself from grabbing his hand and pressing it closer, harder. He has something in mind it seems, so she watches him, nodding and canting her hips.  

“Turn around,” he says, a bit fast and hoarse, and perhaps she’s not the only eager one. “Please.”

Scooting a bit up the bed she does, getting on her hands and knees, tail lifted. She wants him to see what he’s done to her. One of his hands finds her tail and she hisses in pleasure when he wraps his hand around it, when he presses his fingers against the base. It’s almost too much and she wants more. She wants to tell him, pull it, harder, but when she opens her mouth all she gets out is a gasp as his other hand wanders across her ass and he slides one finger into her.

“So wet,” he mumbles, and she slides her legs outwards and pushes back against him. She’s rewarded with another finger inside of her. It’s not enough.

“More. I need. I need you inside of me, Tansui.” She looks back over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of his handsome face, jaw slack and mouth half open. “Please, Tansui.”

“Since you ask so nicely,” he pants and he obliges, his cock pushing her lips apart, entering her wanting cunt slowly and gently. Much bigger than two fingers, it stretches with a pleasant burn and a moan tears from her mouth. She pushes against him, wanting to feel him, all of him, now.

“Meryta!” Tansui gasps, digging one hand into her ass, scrambling for a semblance of control. He holds her still, both hands on her hips. She wants to force him to move, but with a shallow breath she lets him have control, settling for an embarrassingly impatient whine in her throat, a flick of her tail across his body.

He fucks her, frustratingly slow at first, a measured, almost lazy pace that makes her ache for more. Letting him do so brings its own appeal, every single part of her body focused on him, her want climbing with every stroke until she is almost shaking.

Once Tansui realizes she’s letting him do what he wants, he releases the bruising grip on her hip, a short-lived disappointment when he grips her tail, his hand once again wrapping around the base of it. He tugs on it, pulling her back on his cock now, speeding up a little. Like this, she can’t reach him or tease him, she has to let him fuck her however he wants, and it leaves her desperate and quivering.

“Like that, do you?”

“Yesss, more, you can… more, I’m —"

He understands her, and grasps firmer, pulls harder, slamming into her. He grunts and increases the pace, but he doesn’t lose his control. She’s tethering on the brink as pleasure washes over her, a burning need for her climax that’s just out of reach.

“You feel so good,” he says, and he strokes her tail. She can’t help to push back now, gasping when he changes the angle of his thrusts.

“Tansui, I need –”

He likes his name on his lips, and she will say it as many times as she must.

“What do you need, Meryta. Say it.” He pulls on her tail again, and slams into her.

“I need you to touch me, please, Tansui!”

“Very good.”

He leans forward over her, covering her and reaches around her. His hand finds her clit, uncoordinated and messy but it’s good, pressure where she needs it. She collapses forward and he follows, kissing her neck, teeth scarping over her scales. He uses his new leverage to thrust harder, faster, his hand moving over her slippery clit, and she screams his name as she tumbles over her crest, her orgasm striking her when he bites down on her shoulder.

Tansui grunts and snaps his hips and shudders above her, his own climax fueled by hers as she still rides the waves pleasure. He falls completely on top of her, kissing her neck as she stretches out under him. He’s heavy and pleasant on top of her, his arms trapped beneath her. She doesn’t want to move, and she doesn’t know why she should.

Eventually, he rolls off her and they clean up and he returns to his bed to lie next to her. Their legs entangled he throws an arm across her, and they lie in silence for a while, enjoying the nearness of each other. She feels achy and tired in the best way, and almost ready to drift off to sleep, when she hears people – laughter, and someone beating at a table perhaps – from below them. She thinks of the tall wooden structure, dotted with doors. Living quarters for many of the pirates, all sharing walls.  

“I fear your comrades may have heard us. I’m sorry.”

“Us? You mean when you were screaming my name from the top of your lungs?”

Her cheeks heat furiously, and Tansui laughs. “I do not mind. It is hardly the first time I’ve had someone do that here.”

“Bragging, are you now?”

He just smirks at her and kisses her soundly.

“Do you mind, Meryta? That they know you’re here?”

She thinks on it for a moment. She likes the people here, when they’ve passed through, and how they’ve helped her and the scions and Doma, and she’s helped them. But she does not need them to put her on a pedestal, and she does not need to keep any secrets. There are no political implications of their second in command fucking her out of her mind. And she does not mind Tansui’s posturing; not when he leaves her boneless and satisfied.

“No. I don’t.”

They fall silent and shuffle, tired of her tail trapped under her she turns to her side and wraps it round his hip. Tansui runs his hand across her back, caressing her scales there, now idly wandering up and around and he pulls her a little closer. She yawns, glad that his pillows are soft enough for her horns to sink into.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, kissing her shoulder. “I suppose it’s my turn to apologize.”

“Whatever for?” she says, half asleep and wondering why he’s apologizing for his pillows.

He traces her shoulder, lightly brushing her scales. There’s a light soreness, she’d barely have noticed was it not for his attention. Ah. The bite.

“Mayhap I should have asked. It’s the kind of thing that is polite to ask for.”

She turns around and looks at him.

“You don’t strike me as overly polite in the first place – not to your neighbors either.”

He chuckles, and does look contrite.

“Ah, but –”

“I didn’t mind.” She’s never had a lover that was quite so forceful, so intense, and yet he understood what she needed. Taking care of her. “I liked it.”

“I shall keep that in mind, then.”  

His gaze is fixed at where he bit her, and she wonders if he likes leaving a mark, like he likes to hear his name spilled in passion. Suitable, somehow, that he should take what’s due, though she’d hardly call him selfish.

“That confident I’ll be back again?”

He seems to falter a moment, a slight blush on his cheeks, before giving a confident smirk.

“You did just scream loud enough to wake my neighbors, so perhaps it’s not too presumptuous.”

“It was all but happenstance I came by at this time,” Meryta says and smiles. She does not want him to feel too self-assured, even if warranted.  “A favorable one.”

“I’ll ask no promises from you, but perhaps another errand will take you here - violence in its wake or not.”

“Must you always say so?”

“You came into my life in strife and blood. Not that I’m unhappy you’re here.”

She frowns. He has the right of it, in a way, but it also does not feel entirely fair.

“I don’t bring it. I’ll go where the strife is. Where I’m – needed. I wish it wasn’t so.”

He nods and runs a hand over her cheek.

“Well - I’ll be torn then, to have you needed here.”

There’s something soft in his eyes and an undefined feeling rises in her chest. She ignores it.

“You never know – perhaps I’ll catch a break.”

“Glad I would be of that,” he says, brushing a lock of her hair away from her face.

She has nothing to say to that, hope and worry for Alphinaud gnawing in her gut, along with the possibility of an Ascian walking in Zenos’ skin. Hopefully Alphinaud will arrive safely and untangle the mystery and Thancred will bring them news. For now, she settles into his arms, content to let her worries fade as she slips into sleep.

--

She wakes early, the sun filtering through a curtain. Are there even windowpanes? She wonders just how many people heard her last night. No matter. She needs to get going, Genbu has waited long enough, so she slides from the bed to find her clothes, her armor. Tansui mumbles something, and looks at her bleary eyed.

“I need to go,” she says, biting her lips.

“Your important errand, I see.”

“Maybe I’ll tell you later.”

He waves his hand. “No need. I assume it will let us all safely conduct our operations, and not bring doom on the waters.”

“That’s the hope,” she says. “It’ll be fine.”

The light falls across Tansui, half covered by his blankets. Sleepy eyes regard her.

“Last night was fun.” She reaches to touch him, a hand on his cheek. “Thank you.”

He kisses her hand, stretches, and sits up to kiss her on her mouth.

“That it was. I should thank you.”

 “A mutual benefit.” She winks, and grabs her armguards, buckling them, and gets her katana. She looks at his well-worn lance next to it. There’s a notch on the blade. Someone should fix that.

“Take care you there, Tansui, on the waters.”

“You too, Meryta.”

She slips out the door.

[scrollsfromarebornrealm]

Prompt #1: Envoy

"The Black Wolf has personal reasons for coming to Eorzea?" Minfilia repeated, confusion on her face.

"Well, there's the whole 'conquer in the name of the Empire and cleanse the land of every Eikon and their Dominant bloodline' part, that takes priority." Thancred responded. "But according to what the Alliance's spy network was able to tease out, yes. In fact, he banished Livia sas Junius--his third-in-command!--for apparently botching a scheme that had been currently underway regarding that reason."

"For him to send away one of his most trusted officers means that whatever is going on, it's extremely important." Y'shtola mused. She looked at Thancred.

"Was the Alliance spy able to find out just what exactly is so essential to Gaius?" She asked. The rogue exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck.

"You may all want to sit down for this." He began. "But it seems van Baelsar has a living grandchild in Eorzea."

"WHAT?!"

"According to the spy, an envoy--don't know where from, and I promise you right now all three city-states are scouring their records--- was sent to Garlemald to sue for peace when Solus became Emperor. Their primary point of contact was with Gaius at the time. They failed in the negotiations and left, coming back with empty hands...and a full belly."

"Pregnancy." Urianger breathed. "The child, it was kept then?"

"It seems so. Gaius' own spies told him naught else save for that the grandchild existed. And is currently somewhere in one of the three city-states."

"A grandchild of the Black Wolf..." Minfilia breathed. "Twelve. If this becomes public knowledge they'll be hunted down like a Tempered!"

"Did the Alliance spy find any other details?" Papalymo asked, gesturing.

"None else save for that the grandchild was young--a few years over their age of majority. Gaius is the only one who probably knows the identity of the mother, and probably has set his own people to work trying to track her down."

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dedicated to @autumnslance and @erickgage