#ffxivwrite retrospective

[heretic-altias]

FFXIVWrite Day 30 - Amity

I decided to wrap things up for FFXIVWrite with a little reflective piece for Akku. The nicest little guy for the friendliest prompt.

While not related to the prompt I'd also like to celebrate here that I did it! I did every single prompt for this challenge! This is something I've actually wanted to accomplish for a few years now, so I'm really proud of myself. I hope anyone following my page enjoyed it too and wasn't driven too mad by my blog suddenly becoming 99% fics when I rarely posted my writing usually lol.

Don’t know my characters? Here’s a basic breakdown to help you out!

~

As far back as he could remember, Akku simply wanted to be a good person. To be kind to everyone he met. Even before his echo power had manifested and shown him just how much suffering everyone carried, he wanted to make their lives better.

In his youth, his kindness was not repaid. In retrospect, he had simply been a pushover. Letting others walk all over him trying to make them happy. In the mind of a child, letting others act in the way that made them happy seemed like kindness.

He had still not entirely grown out of that when fate first dropped him in with Solar as a Warrior of Light. He had been the youngest one there, a boy of nineteen summers tagging along with proper adults. A bright eyed child hopeful about their role in the world. Heroes were always kind after all. Heroes made everyone happy in the end.

But he quickly came to see that simply wasn’t reality. Sometimes the greatest kindness was a harsh truth, sometimes people suffered and died no matter how hard you tried.

Sometimes in the end Altais, with her direct and blunt responses, had been kinder than his attempts to comfort people. Sometimes, even when the war was over and the people were saved, some still suffered endlessly. And many people didn’t even live to see the end.

In a strange way, Akku had learned to be kinder. He understood when he had to be direct and harsh for the greater good of someone’s well being. He had learned to respect himself and not just be tread upon, for his agency was needed to do good in the world. 

And in face of his failures, he continued to try.

Akku reflected on all of this as he relaxed by the docks in Sharlayan, a light snow starting to dust the ground. He had come to like this city a lot, there was something peaceful about it. And since being sort of adopted into a study group despite not actually being a student, he enjoyed spending time here with some new friends. With the Scions officially disbanded, and his friends in Solar spread out working on their own things Akku had been sort of drifting lately.

Should he be doing more than this? Maybe. Maybe he should enroll in the classes himself instead of just studying with some of the students. Maybe he should be going home and seeing if Zelda needed any help on the administrative side of things. Or maybe he should still be traveling, doing what he can to help anyone he meets.

But this was comforting. And he didn’t need to do anything just yet. Being a Scion and Warrior of Light had actually left him quite wealthy, even with his poor money skills. Not Ul’dah Syndicate level of wealthy, but wealthy enough where he probably would not want for anything for the rest of his life if he kept living as he did. And if he had the means to keep doing nothing for a little while, then why not? There was one person he had rarely ever been kind to: himself. And that person deserved this period of rest. Purpose would find him again eventually. Until then he’d continue to enjoy this. He’d keep trying to spend time with his friends, both new and old, simply because it made him happy. And he knew it made them happy too. What better way to spend his days than that?

He wasn’t dumb enough to think it’d last forever. Eventually his friends would need his help again, and he would answer because that’s who he is. But somehow he’d gotten that happy ending everyone wrote the hero having. It wasn’t as perfect as the stories, but it was his and he was happy.

[alannah-corvaine]

in retrospect, making wolbert week the week immediately after ffxivwrite ends was not one of my more brilliant ideas, but it's too late to change it now and i will attempt to be less harebrained next year.

[the-wardens-torch]

I’ve been up to some fun stuff in game these past few days, but I told myself I had to write a retrospective for this year’s ffxivwrite before I did anything else because apparently love to assign myself homework and wanted to put all of my thoughts together so I can come back to them later. Self-validation and all that.

Here I am Advertising my FFxivwrite2022 Masterpost Because I Can

-I drew on reserves of energy and ideas I didn’t know I had and I’m proud of myself for that.  I love this challenge so much and am eternally grateful to @sea-wolf-coast-to-coast for running it. I am an old dog and you are teaching me new tricks every year just with a single word a day.  Actually I should DM her and say that directly.  Note to self.

- I ended up writing quite a few stories where there was a theme of coming full circle with something and didn‘t realize it until I wrote this.

-That one I did for the last free day… Wow. It really was a long time coming. The idea of Fal having had his first sexual experience be with someone his mother hired had been in my head for a long time.  Its just so… messed up, and it seemed like a good reason for him to be, well, like he is.  To make him think that sex is only a fun thing adults do (which it can be, don’t get me wrong) and to not realize the importance of enthusiastic consent, or the great significance of having an emotional connection with one’s partner as well as a physical one. Fal is actually very good at sex and at emotional connections, but he still needs to learn about how best to combine the two. Hence why he overstepped his boundaries with Alain that one time.  That one time I have alluded to only a handful of times and even then, thoroughly neutered with vague language and metaphors.  I’m a pansy like that.

-I’m really happy with Fal’s Unsundered self, Philotes.  I‘m also happy with the idea that Philotes created the creature that would later become Ruby.  The Sundering separated them, but they were reunited when Ruby gave her life to make Fal live.  Creation saves creator. I wonder if they’ll ever know.

-The Tiamat story was my most popular - that makes me happy because I really wasn’t sure if I could write another Tiamat story after she was freed, since her and Fal’s relationship sort of hinged on the concepts of penitence and emotional self-flagellation.  But like any good friendship, I guess this one needed to grow a bit, and I’m glad it did. Also I have this sappy mental image of Tiamat taking Fal for a ride in the sky above Meracydia while she reminisces about Bahamut - but this time its with fondness instead of regret.

-For the past couple of years, I’ve had a “big reveal” in mind for each FFXIVwrite.  I can’t remember what year was what, but they were things like “Fal‘s dad seems like a dick but is actually somewhat sympathetic because he’s lonely, neurodivergent and bad at being a people,” and “Ruby was once a sentient creature that used to belong to Fal’s dad but expended most of her consciousness to glue Fal together at birth.” This year it was “Alain confesses to being asexual and it makes Fal realize that sex is important but emotional connection is importanter and also he finds out that his mom was a slut too.”

-This year’s batch of dirty limericks was the least popular I’ve ever had… But I was actually really depressed and having a super hard time organizing my thoughts when I wrote them, and I don’t consider them on par with the others from previous years.

-I didn’t do a folktale this year… Bummer.

-Lotta sexual references this year… yeah. Not what I intended, it just sort of happened.

-I kind of want to write more about Ianthe Dus Covetrus - and not just as an attachment to Fal. But I already have 3 alts whose stories didn’t stick so good luck with that.

[storms-path]

Day 28 - Vainglorious

Kokoje closed the book in front of her with a heavy thump. She could feel another headache coming on. A quick glance at her clock told her it was already three hours past when she’d promised Lucinia she’d stop her research. But she had to find out more. She had to get to the truth of the matter, even if it took all night. Her task was simple, find out as much as she could about the Warrior of Light’s companions. But one in particular was proving particularly vexing. The sources she’d found must have been missing something, must have overlooked some key detail!

Because if they were accurate, Fareena Hagen must have been the most insufferable person in all of existence.

While the diary of Stalwart Mountain was by far the most scathing report of Fareena’s character, it was far from the only one. Each and every one of the vaunted Scions of the Seventh Dawn had some sort of gripe with her, from Thancred grumbling that she had replaced his aether cartridges with berries to Y’shtola planning revenge after her staff had been painted “an insufferably bright shade of pink”. Even the famed Alphinaud Levellieur, noted for his even-keeled, diplomatic style, had on a few occasions found time to warn others of her temperament and attitude.

So why keep such an irritant around? Did she bribe them somehow? Threaten to spill their darkest secrets to the wider world? Was she… gods forbid, actually liked for her loudmouthed, prideful demeanour? Truly, the people of the past made no sense at all. Kokoje rubbed the bridge of her nose, brushing against her reading glasses. It was then that her stomach decided to gurgle, loudly. A pressing reminder that she was still mortal, and prone to a mortal’s failings. Appetite most certainly being one of them. “Fine,” she muttered to nobody in particular. “A quick break, then back to the books.” She would puzzle out this mystery, even if it took all night.

As she stepped out of the library’s endless aisles she was struck by the sudden clamour and squall that rushed to fill the silence. Lucinia had explained in vague terms the silencing enchantment placed on the library (“keeps the booklings undisturbed” were her exact words), but knowing it was there and feeling the wall of silence suddenly left were two entirely separate things. Still, it was pleasant to be around the various people noises again, even if most of them were the clash and clang of weapons colliding.

The Storm School of Combat didn’t really believe in schedules, allowing each student and teacher to set their own as it pleased them. A lackadaisical approach that would have driven Kokoje’s former tutors back in Sharlayan absolutely batty. Well, those who weren’t already. Still, it was early enough in the evening that even her rigid, stuffy lecturers would have had little reason to look askance at her for choosing to grab a quick bite to eat. Though, given her recent choice of company, they’d likely do so anyway just to make a point.

As Kokoje made her way to the lower levels of the building, the clamorous wails of drawn weapons gave way to the somehow more clamorous wails of hungry students. Jeers, cheers, gossip and hushed whispers all mingled with the various mastications of the dozens of would-be combat masters as they pressed together on slightly-too-narrow benches and greedily devoured their meals. There were no ranks or barriers here, student ate elbow-to-elbow with master as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Lucinia claimed it helped break down other barriers that would get in the way of learning. Jungsai, her lanky raen right-hand-man, countered that it was because she couldn’t be bothered enforcing discipline and wanted to impress the new students with her presence. Kokoje suspected Jungsai had the right of it, but she would never say it out loud.

Lucinia herself was easy enough to spot, tearing meat from a pile of ribs with all the delicacy and restraint of a starving coeurl. She failed to notice Kokoje as she entered the room, too intent on her meal. The fact that Kokoje was as small as she was probably didn’t help. On any other day, Kokoje would have made a beeline for the woman, but today she needed more studious help. After helping herself to a roll of bread from the bustling counter, Kokoje singled out her target. Jungsai was sat away from the crush of the middle benches, calmly eating his platter of vegetables while poring through a book sitting neatly next to him. He looked more like a scholar than a fighter, but Kokoje had seen his prowess in the ring. Only one person had beaten him one-on-one, and she was the grandmaster of the school.

Jungsai Kurogane was tall and thin, but by no means skinny. A lean and proper diet led to a lean and proper man, lithe and wiry and able to move with an easy grace that belied his towering height. A mop of dark hair littered his head, perhaps the only untidy thing about him, but his blue-grey eyes were razor sharp and crackling with intelligence. Kokoje had liked him immediately, and it hadn’t taken long to win him over in turn. He smiled as he heard her footsteps, looking up from his meal to offer her a seat next to him. Kokoje steadied her heart as he did so, damning her luck that the two heads of the school were also the most dashing. Just bloody typical, that.

Still, Kokoje took her place next to the man, taking a bite of her roll once she had made herself comfortable. That was a mistake, as soon the entire roll was messily devoured and her stomach grumbled for more. Jungsai chuckled and nudged his plate in her direction. “Long afternoon, hmm?” His voice was velvet drawn over granite, a uniquely rugged yet tender combination. “And here I thought Lucinia had given you enough of a lecture last time.”

“Hmph,” was Kokoje’s only reply as she tore unabashedly into one of Jungsai’s popotoes. “’m a guest! Can… mph... Do what I want!”

“Within reason,” chided Jungsai. “So tell me, what have you been looking into that has you so enthralled?” As a fellow bookworm, his empty threats fell mostly on deaf ears, but he at least had learned the value of restraint in his pursuits. His goal of one day dethroning Lucinia would not allow overindulgence.

“Fareena Hagen,” was Kokoje’s reply. Jungsai grimaced. Apparently Kokoje was not the only one who had delved into the woman’s history. Curious, Kokoje raised an expectant eyebrow.

“In Kugane, we have tales of that woman and her escapades. She was an all-too-frequent visitor, even after her business in the city concluded. She would cause some commotion, disappear into thin air, then re-appear just when she had faded back into rumour and mystique. And of course there are some who claim she had a hand in the Red-Hand Revolution towards the end of her life. Not that I believe such things, of course. Nor would I shed tears if she was. Corrupt bastards deserved what they got, if the history books are anything to go by.”

Kokoje was stunned, not only by Jungsai uttering the first swear she had heard from his lips, but also his verbosity. It was rare to get more than a few sentences from the man, but now he had opened up like… well, an open book. “What else do you know of her?” she asked, unable to stifle her curiosity.

Jungsai raised an eyebrow at her, but his easy smile made it clear he did not mind the interrogation. “I know that she was known as a scoundrel, an arrogant and insatiable fighter, and one of the bravest, most noble people this star will ever know.” Jungsai picked up a piece of broccoli before Kokoje’s plundered fork could skewer it. “The four lords speak most highly of her.” With that bombshell dropped, he dropped the greenery into his mouth and began chewing in evident satisfaction.

Kokoje could only stare dumbfounded for several moments. Then, in a rush of air and heady disbelief: “You’ve MET the four lords?! Genbu, Byakko, Suzaku, Seiryu? THOSE four lords? How?!”

Jungsai merely smiled in the most infuriating way Kokoje had ever known. “That is a secret for me and those I deem worthy of telling the tale to.” Jungsai close his book with a decisive snap and made ready to leave, clearly deeming the conversation over. As he made to leave, however, he found his way blocked by his lalafellin friend. She was shockingly fast for someone untrained in combat.

“Oh no you don’t, you overgrown lizard. You are going to sit back down and tell me every last detail, or I’ll sic Lucinia on you for not coming to collect me like you were supposed to!”

Jungsai looked Kokoje in the eye and saw the steadfast determination in them. She would do it, even if it meant exposing her own tardiness. “Very well,” he sighed, sitting back down. “About miss Hagen, then. And afterwards, perhaps,” he added at Kokoje’s stubbornly set jaw, “Perhaps I shall speak of how I encountered the four lords in my journeys.”

Kokoje considered this for a moment, then nodded. “Good enough. Start talking, and don’t leave out any details!”

With a weary sigh, Jungsai began sharing what he knew.

[elegant-etienne]

FFXIVWrite 2020 - Day 4 - Clinch

Etienne has a habit of picking up the kettle just before it whistles. They're not sure when the habit started: they credit their butler training, but it was long before then. Mayhap it was mornings when Mother was hungover and fighting with Mama Adelie, and the kettle would scream and scream. Etienne's ears were sensitive. The moment the steam began to rise, they'd flinch. Picking it up too soon would make weak tea, and Mother would complain. One always had to time it just right.

It's a habit to know when to do time things right - to listen for the bubbles roiling around against the metal, about to burst forth as steam.

~~

In retrospect, they've heard water at a low boil and spilled it in their own lap too many times. Starting at a young age, that young nobleman, a hand at the small of their back.

There was a tension in the air. It was hot and bubbling.

The kettle was about to scream.

~~

Timing is important.

Sitting on a couch in an awkward situation. Drunk. With a friend who just asked for something he shouldn't have, thinking --

There's going to be a moment to take the kettle off this heat.

There's going to be a moment where the bubbles will clink against the metal, and that will be the moment.

There's going to be a good moment to do the right thing.

There's going to be a good moment before it’s overwhelming, before it gets too loud, before you can’t stand it any more.

There's going to be a good moment - there's going to a be a moment before it hurts - pay attention, play close attention, and you'll time it just right.

Before it starts to scream. Before you ruin the tea. Before your mother says, "I don't know why I ever expected more."

Listen closely. There will be a moment, and the tea will be perfect, and everyone will praise your skill.

Take the kettle off the heat at the right moment, but not too soon. You will time it just right. That’s what you do. You need to wait. You need to wait.

[endangered-liaison]

FFXIVWrite Prompt #29: Paternal

[Content warnings: physical abuse, misogyny, misgendering]

"Are you my father?"

Jaejh stops whittling. His knife hangs loose between his fingertips. In a bell or two, he'll have a whole quiver of arrows. Any would-be-Warder under his care who has carved less than he has (which will be all of them, like as not) will have to start again before they're permitted to go out hunting.

He brushes his hair from his face, eyes raking across the form of the girl who asked him that question. "Now, why would you ask that, my little terror?"

The girl-who-would-be-Fleur doesn't see the point in her whittling arrows. With only one arm it's not as if she'll ever be able to use a bow unless she wishes to learn some technique with her legs, but that sounds...inconvenient at best.

Still, she does see the point in eating, and so she whittles, and fletches, and does all that she needs to do to give ammunition to someone other than her. And as she works, her mind wanders. As she works, she thinks of the question - and cannot help but ask it.

It was foolish, in retrospect. Jaejh has beaten boys for speaking out of turn before, for asking him questions about his scars or their old homes or anything he has no interest in speaking about.

She flinches away even as she answers his question. She daren't stay silent or hesitate. "I just...I've never understood how the Warders decide who takes which children. Do you take your own? Or just...those of the right age?"

But today, he must be feeling generous. Or perhaps he simply holds a greater tolerance for inane questions when they come from the girl who is not yet Fleur? Whatever the case may be, he doesn't beat her. Instead, he laughs. His mirth fills the tree canopy, causing a number of other boys to flinch or look at him in alarm.

He places his knife down to slap the tree branch in amusement. He tilts his head back, exposing his throat as he laughs - deep and melodic. Fleur watches the movement with more focus than she should, and she swallows heavily.

"You know, it's a good question! It's one my charges ask far too little." Jaejh shrugs as his laughter dies down, looking at her in amusement. "They all obey me, as I am their Warder. But few question whether I am simply guardian, or if I am father."

Fleur nods, leaning forwards on her perch. Her knife is still, and she finds her focus shifted solely to her tutor.

"I'm afraid my answer will disappoint you, though, whatever you might be hoping it to be." Jaejh lifts his knife again and points it at her, then at the others in the treetops around him. "I don't have a clue."

Fleur blinks.

He...doesn't know?

"You...don't know? Do you not remember the mothers of those you sire?" Fleur can't help the incredulity which slips into her tone. The harshness. Doesn't he know his own children? What is this man playing at, training these boys when he has no idea if---

SLAP!

...

...

...

Fleur feels the sting of it before she realises what just happened.

She works her jaw, tasting the blood in her mouth and trying to get her ear to stop ringing.

It's not an unfamiliar sensation. But familiarity does not numb pain.

"Don't speak out of turn to me, boy," he says, and Fleur begins to wonder if he even knows the names of those he looks after or if he truly cares that little about them. "I don't remember every whinging doe I have bedded. When you have lived as many summers as I, you'll find they all blend together. You expect me to remember a thousand conquests?"

Fleur glares up at him, rage simmering in her eyes. And she swears, then and there, that she will never be like him.

[efrmellifer]

1, 3, 10!

1. What’s your personal favourite thing you wrote this year?

oh that’s harrrd. I have quite a few I really liked, and it’s so hard to choose between them (also I know this year has been long, but *scrolls my masterlist* holy shit I did this?)

(under the cut bc long)

No matter what I choose, it’s going to feel like a hastily-made choice, when I’ve got Uxor, Sub Rosa, Wondrous Tails fills, Avail and Beam from FFxivWrite, The Lovers’ Mask AU...

I’m too harsh on my work in retrospect. I still love it for reading back until I fall asleep, but it’s hard to choose a favorite when they were all so good to write, and all of them have something I’d try to do better, looking back. 

I think it’s the Wyrmelliferel Threesome series of Compersion, Coeruleus and Felidae. That’s still really good; I did a lot with it and all three of them got their moments in the spotlight (and as the middle of the sandwich, hey hey)

3. Which of your fics was most different from what you usually write? Probably One (Crux) from FFxivWrite, but that’s because it’s one of maybe three to five fics that talk about Etien’s life as the WoL before Heavensward, back when she was still taking commands and very slowly developing feelings for Aymeric.

There are some little quirks outside my usual style in there, too, but the main thing is really the subject matter, I think. 

10. What, if anything, are you going to try to do differently in your writing in the new year?

hmmmm!

Well, I know that as I keep writing, my style is going to keep evolving (which is so weird; I look back at Cold Hands, Warm Heart and I’m like “whose is that?”) but I hadn’t set any goals for myself yet!

Maybe I could work on my sentence structures, like how I divide and arrange clauses and phrases. 

Mostly, I think I just want to write more. The Aytien Doc is at 160k, and goodness knows I’m not gonna stop it (or the fics about your ships) so I guess I’ll have to wait and see what changes I want to lean into!

[asphaltvalkyrie]

I need to make an FFXIVwrite2019 masterpost/retrospective, but I’m in such a shit mood that I don’t want to bleed negativity all over something that makes me as happy as the #ffxivwrite project does, and all over all of you, who made me so eager to check my tumblr every morning to see the notes. I’ll do it in a day or two once I feel better.

[elegant-etienne]

FFXIVWrite 2020 - Day 2 - Sway

Perspective: Houmei (before he took that name).

In the days that came, he grew used to the creaking of the boat, the shouts and laughter of the crew, the sway of the boat of the waves and the flutter of the sails.

He remembered growing up in boats. He remembered it better than most things. A little fleet of skiffs traveling between each coastal town, heavy with fish, adorned with lacy nets. In many ways, he was more used to the sway of the ocean than he was the steadiness of land. He remembered, like a song stuck in his head or a sound from a distant room.

He fell asleep out on the deck more than once, lulled by that movement. The ship's medic searched him out in a panic, worried he'd thrown himself overboard.

"I'd only be going home if I did," he told the medic. In retrospect, that was probably not the best way to reply.