#Heavenward Spoilers

[arianeoftheglade]

I was born of a different star—a child whose power of the Echo was too feeble to save his dying world…

[irisopranta]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by: @ainyan Tagging:

Tagging: @e-dragoons, @scholarlostintime, @pinxli, @humblemooncat, @paintedscales,@wyrmwinds, @starrysnowdrop, @bnuuywol and whomever.

((Want to be tagged for silliness, like this post.))

So I've been working on a Bad End AU. I'm about to get to the bad and it's mostly in game dialogue. HW Spoilers ahead:

The sun glowed a vibrant orange as it was setting. Iris was tired from her fight with Ser Charibert. However there wasn’t any time to waste. They needed to stop Thordan with any means possible.

“Fall back!” Ser Zephirin called out to his comrade. Despite his injuries, Ser Charibert limped away as quickly as he could. With the help of Alphinaud and Hauchefant, Iris was able to get back on her feet. The three gave chase to the two knights. They made it through the spire. Only to be greeted by an air dock. And there he was waiting for the airship overhead. 

This all seemed familiar to Iris but she couldn’t place her finger on it. It felt like those  heroic tales you would have read as a child. Where the hero makes it to the big bad guy for their final conflict. Is this truly how it all ends? A voice called from behind her, breaking her thoughts. “Father,Please.” it was Ser Aymeric, limbing, surely from the torture that Thordan and the Heavensward gave him. 

Estinien and Lucia were not too far behind. “For a mercy, we were not too late.” the gruff voice of Estinien directed his words to Iris. 

She nodded at him. “And for that, we shall be thankful.”

“Why must you do this, Father?! Nidhogg is Fallen! There is no need for further deception! Now is the time to renounce the lies which led us down this path–to start anew!” Aymeric shouted at Thordan, hoping that his words could get through to him. 

“And tear down the very pillars of society–our history, our value–everything we have built over a thousand years?” Thordan sighed  “A fool to the last.” He continued onward the airship. Knowing that if they didn’t act then he would get what he wanted. 

[most-fuckable-ff14-lady]

ROUND 1 MOST FUCKABLE FFXIV LADY

[lily-ohfally]

public transport.png

[cutest-xiv-chacter-tourney]

Crown for the Cutest Round 1~!

[writer-of-histories]

I know not what to say. My hands still shake as I write this. Forgive me for my poor penmanship.

Lord Haurchefant is dead. He spoke of his i breaking shield, his unwavering strength. But Zephrin, I still curse his name, was stronger.

No, not stronger. Strength had nothing to do with it. Lord Haurchefant was the strongest I knew. He so bravely stepped in front of Aki, shielding her from Zephrin’s bolt of light.

Aki… Poor Aki. She recently fell asleep on my shoulder as we fly to the Sea of Clouds. She has not stopped crying since. I fear she blames herself. She has not spoken a word to anyone since it happened.

He spoke to her, before his passing. “A smile better suits a hero.” Words I shall live by, though I be no hero, he is right. It will be hard, learning to smile without him. But it can be done. I only hope I can teach the children this, too.

My boy… We went to speak with Cid, who had not heard of Haurchefant’s passing. I tried to tell him, but my hands would not move with me. They trembled, until they simply stopped. I couldn’t say it. Kris stepped in and told Cid. I wish I could have been stronger, that Kris would not have had to pick up my failings. He is strong, too.

I am surrounded by such incredibly strong people, and yet I still come up failing. Am I really so useless? That I would need my son to say what I cannot? That I couldn’t save Haurchefant?

It should have been me. Haurchefant should still draw breath. Would that I had been faster.

The sea of clouds draws near. Until next time.

[dongbangskies]

Deaths in FFXIV

They are so tragic but so beautiful because the focus is not the death itself but memory and who it has left behind.

Spoilers for Post ARR under the cut

I think its so beautiful that they did that because its reflects reality. This game does it so well.

This game set is good. So good.

For example, the Final Steps of Faith hurt more than the Vault or Ysayle sacrificing herself.

Or when Minifillia said her final goodbyes in the scene before she leaves for the First. Her thanking her friends for carrying on her hope. The first time we saw her as the Word of the Mother didn’t hurt nearly as much.

Or even earlier, the mourning of Moenbryda.

and the most recent for me, Papalymo.

Lyse's small dialogue in the duty to awaken Omega where she's like "Are you watching Papalymo?" and her constant reminder of his memory is way sadder than his actual death.

Some of the other deaths in FF (ex Noctis and Lunafreya or all of Type 0) have been sad but it was for the moment. This one keeps bringing it back and really drives it home.

This game set nails it.

[hyeonkiart]

Happy(?) 11/11

Pockey day!

[yellowcrumpet]

So guess what i did yesterday :)

[thevikingwoman]

EMMY GRIEF!!!!!!!!!!

thank you Azia!!!

this one I really, really do want to complete - but I mostly have some fragments and a great idea: This take place after The Vault, and while Emmanellain and Meryta is broken up, they still find some comfort in each other. It's sad. It has so many Fortemps headcanons.

the starter, because I love it very much:

“I hated him for the longest time, you know?” Meryta almost leaves right there, Emmanellain sitting in his divan, hands in his hair. She came to him for – comfort perhaps, or commiseration. She didn’t come for whatever this is, but she’s not sure she can bear the haunted look in Alpinaud’s eyes either, nor the grief of Edmund. “That’s what Mother taught me,” Emmanellain continues, “but my brother is – was – very hard to hate.”

and a bit later

“Tomorrow I’ll be off, I’m going to kill them all. Thordan, the Heaven’s Ward.” It burns in her. She wants to tear them all apart. No matter the cost. Emmanellain looks forlorn, then his mouth sets. “I should go with you. I should avenge my brother,” his voice almost breaks. “Please don’t go, Emmanellain. It’s not – not everyone has to fight. Not everyone should have to fight.” “He trained me, you know? Said I’d learn to fight eventually. I was never as good as him. I can never be as good as him. Perhaps if – I can’t be him, I can’t. Oh Meryta, girl, he was always so nice, and now! “ She put a finger on his lips. “My Father…” “Your father doesn’t have to decide what you do. He shouldn’t.” she brushes his hair back from his face. “I’ll avenge your brother, I promise. I want you to stay safe.” She doesn’t know what else to do, so she leans in and kisses him. She’s desperate, hungry and ungentle. It’s not fair to Emmanellain, she knows this, she will not, she cannot come back to him, but she needs this now and so does he.

I really love these bits, but unfortunately there's not a lot more. I have thoughts though!

[saucynadles]

about to meet haurchefant (already knows what happens to him)

[hermesserpent-stuff]

reader beware spoilers in there

in the future of transmutation of the soul

Hiccup grips tight to Toothless’ saddle as his friend trembles and ignores him. He is scared as they enter a thick fog. Dagur flies right behind on Haelin. He takes a breath and whispers to his drake.

“~Toothless? Safe?~”

“~Bad nest. Bad *****~” The word is unfamiliar in meaning. “~Her voice is in my head. I will keep you safe, but bad nest is dangerous.”

Toothless’ tone is so warbly and scared. Hiccup takes a deep breath and scratches Toothless’ neck.

“~We take it on together.~” He shifts in his saddle and calls to Dagur, not too loud, just loud enough to carry. “~Bad nest. Enemy territory. Keep your eyes open clutch mate!~”

Dagur and Haelin croon in affirmative and keep flying just behind them and a little to the left. Dragons slowly start to surround them, most carrying fish, sheep, or even a yak or two. Hiccup narrows his eyes. Most of the dragons that he had met ate immediately. Normally they did not carry food long distances. He is worried for what is to come.

They dive into a cave system and then into a large cave with a smoking chasm below. Toothless leads them to a crack to watch on as dragons drop the food down into the pit. Hiccup tenses. Why are they doing that? Dragons are not fools. They do not waste food, not on purpose. Sharing food was valued heavily because it meant caring or having more than enough. But these dragons are just dropping food into a pit. All the dragons in the crevices and caves of the walls are tense and full of anxiety. Hiccup bites his lip.

Then a Gronkle flies over the pit, dropping a single pitiful fish. All the dragons tense up further. Suddenly something truly massive surges up from the pit and opens its jaws. It snatches the Gronckle from the air and swallowing it down as the nest chitters anxiously. Hiccup feels something slam up against his mind, some sort of mental force. But it is shoved away by his own rage. This is a nest. That must have been a Queen. A bad queen. 

Rage consumes him and he snarls. He leans forward as the queen vanish down into the smoke and Toothless seems to understand what he is about to do. His tensing and joint growl shows that Toothless agrees. They shriek out a challenge as one, anger at the horror that this queen inflicted. Hiccup is raging at the knowledge that his best friend had live his life in fear of this queen eating him. It explained the dragon raids and their frequency on Berk. 

The queen rises back up, screaming at their challenge. Dagur lets out a wild cackle and Haelan shrieks and the four of them launch up. Toothless shrieks out further challenges as Hiccup insults the queen.

“~Worthless!! Horrid!!! Monster!~”

He shrieks at the queen and she howls at the insults. They shoot one plasma blast down at her and zoom upwards. She follows and the whole next goes into an uproar. It is chaos. He continues insulting her, rage flowing across his tongue as Norse and Dragonese swirls across his tongue. Dagur backs him up with cackles and croons flying behind him. The queen destroys one part of the mountain that held the nest in her haste to try and kill him. They exescape into the open air and duck beneath a wall of flame that chases him and Toothless. They spiral around the queen and he quickly discovers that the hide is too thick to blast as Haelin’s fire cascades harmlessly off her hide. Hiccup darts in close and spots her wings. He needs her to follow him heavenward where the clouds are thick and blackening. 

Hiccup pulls Toothless up and they dart about her face to get her to follow. They fly up into the clouds, shrieking and spilling more insults. She slowly starts to fly after him. Hiccup dives into the clouds, hiding from her eyes. She roars.

“~COME FACE ME TRAITOR OF KIN!~”

She screams, flame swirling through the clouds. 

But now Hiccup and Toothless are silent as shadows, darting between the clouds and landing precise strikes on her wings. She is not built for speed or mobility like they are. They then dive out of the clouds and get her to chase them towards the ground with one final insult. They approach the ground at the speed of lightning. 

Hold.

Hold.

Now! 

They spin around and fire into the maw that threatens to close around them. And he shrieks and they try to fly out of the way as the queen’s ripped wings fail to slow her fall. He can hear his brother’s worried shrieks as they dart around the body of the falling body of the giant. But they are hit by the tail and sent spinning. Hiccup loses consciousness as his body screams in pain.

---

Hiccup is not sure how long later he wakes up. It feels like coming out of death, bones and muscles stiff from disuse. 

[most-fuckable-ff14-lady]

ROUND 1 MOST FUCKABLE FFXIV LADY

[lily-ohfally]

HaurcheWol / WolChefant week day 2: AU

[⚠️] Heavenward; The Vault spoilers, WoL OC; Lily Oh'fally A small fic for day 2 of WolChefant week, vaguely written with Dragonsong Ultimate in mind.

Notes: Written to fit my WoL, Lily. He picks up AST during HW but struggles with channeling magics despite his overflow of aether. When reading please keep an open mind and don't think about it too much :) Comments and reblogs are appreciated! Thank you for reading!

[thekrazykeke]

Title: We Always Do This

Fandom(s): College Craze

Masterlist: Here.

Pairing(s): Jay x Phy

Summary: An intimate relationship is not only a physical relationship. It is a trusting relationship with another person without fear of rejection. 

Or, alternatively, Phylicity Carr and Jason Choi are on different tracks of life and on the surface, should not mix. Their first run-in with each other is brief, yet still, the universe rippled. They meet once more and contact is moderately established but again denied. Their third encounter (and every other meeting thereafter) is no less fraught with friction, and tension.

Warning(s): Canon typical violence, flirting, underage drinking, pining, misunderstandings, occasional use of the n-word, spoilers for College Craze

This is a self-indulgent, slight comfort piece I’m writing for myself but also for angelduality and alexandria on the College Craze Discord server. We all agreed that Samir needed to be put in his place. 

Thus this 2 am idea was born~

Reblog/like, share it with your friends, and/or comment if you want me to keep writing about this fandom or the adventures of this couple to be going forward. Without further ado, let’s dive into it!

@agehabutterfly @angelduality @summoreknots​ @theyrhymewithorange​

~

Prologue

You’re upset.

Slightly inebriated and head beginning to pound, you rub at your lips. Eugh, you can still taste him there. Or maybe it was just your imagination, he’d long since run off after you’d had to tell him twice to stop and get a little physical, forcefully pushing him away from you.

Rubbing your lips again, you blinked back the sting of frustrated tears, continuing your trek back to your dorm. Or at least that was the plan until you almost bumped into the Dean. It’s on the tip of the tongue to tell the man what you’d gone through, what Samir attempted to do, what he was capable of—

And then you noticed the ring.

Feeling a pit open up in your stomach, you just barely tear your gaze away and only then to question (interrogate) him carefully. Though you’d like to think it wasn’t the Dean who’d taken pictures of you while in the shower on your first day, he was giving you all-around bad vibes. Just what the fuck did he mean he was “ever watchful?” More like mcfucking negligent with how Samir just got to run around unchecked...!

Even after you got back to your dorm and stripped out of the dress you’d been wearing, took a quick shower, moisturized and redressed in clean clothes, reclining lazily in your desk chair, that feeling of doom wouldn’t leave you be.

So you picked up your cellphone and texted the one person who you could always count on when things really mattered.

You rolled your eyes and huffed.

Although Mal is your older cousin, y’all argued like blood siblings 24/7 growing up together and they enjoyed giving you a hard time.

Lovingly, of course, she’d insist.

Before you could get out of the clean clothes (again) and shimmy in bed with just your panties (no Trish and you’d be under the covers, door and window locked 🤷🏽‍♀️), your phone began to ring insistently.

Rolling your eyes heavenward, you answered, clicking the button that set the call to speakerphone, “Hello?” The greeting had more attitude than you intended but it was out there now.

There’s a muffled sound like the person on the other end was shifting around. “L’l miss thing, dontchu be catchin’ an attitude wit me!” Although trying to sound serious and scolding, her voice cracks halfway and she breaks into helpless giggles.

Shaking your head, you can’t help but join in, chuckling a bit. “I’m sorry,” Stretching the final word, you turn it into a bit of a high note or hum. “You got me when I was ‘bout to catch some z’s.”

“‘Catch some z’s?’” The next chuckle created a bit of static over the phone. “Nah, nah, nah. We’re overdue for some quality bonding time.” There’s a moment’s pause. “Plus I already left my second job early. I’m outside yo school, so come on already…”

Exasperation warred with a smidgen of guilt as you popped up from the chair, snagging your book bag and tossed the folder containing your upcoming class papers, and some PJs and toiletries. Lastly, you tied the drawstrings tight, shoving your arms through the straps as you swung the book bag onto your back, snagging your phone off the desk after. “I’m on my way down but you really didn’t have to come if you were at work.”

Clicking their tongue, Mal sighed. “Just pick up the pace, please. The iron wrought gates realllllly give me bougie vibes and remind me of Saccharine Summit.”

The call disconnected before you could inquire about when and why they’d gone there. Just in time too as you twisted the knob of your dorm door, testing to make sure that it was locked before you hustled down the hall. Shoving your cellphone in your pocket, you shouted a distracted, “Sorry!” in the direction of the person you nearly bumped into while in your hurry to leave.

Walking the campus grounds at night, once again, is a bit odd in a way but you did your best to ignore the feeling. This is different than what Dean Monroe does and you’re pretty sure he had more motives than spousal issues as the only reason. Shaking your head, you find yourself breaking into a grin as you caught sight of the person leaning leisurely against the beat-up dark blue SUV parked outside the school gates, left leg propped up against the passenger door, tapping away on their cellphone.

Oblivious to your presence, for now, you take the time to take note of the changes your cousin had undergone during the summer. Much to your exasperation, you see that they’ve once again shot up in height, towering over most people, and definitely taller than yourself; though at this point, it’s just a staple of life. Mal is as tall as a tree and kept climbing while you plateaued at eighth grade and weren’t getting any taller (and boy, oh boy, did you try).

“Malicia!” You called out to her, waving and slipping out the school gates as they looked up at last. Mal beamed, genuine happiness to see you visible in those gray eyes, showing off pearly white teeth and that playful, dimpled smile that screamed mischief. Picking up speed, you managed two more steps before she caught you up in a warm hug, the action familiar and making you feel safe.

“Lookit, you!” After a few minutes, they pulled back to give you a quick once over. “My oh my, what have you been up to over the summer?” With a grin, Mal playfully leered at you, a knowing twinkle to their gaze.

Spluttering with fake indignation and good humor, you lightly slapped a hand against their stomach, rolling your eyes as they clutched at the area in exaggerated hurt. “Dumby, shut up! I’m more interested in what you been up to! Ya been hush-hush all summer about ya whereabouts and secretive on your socials,” You ticked off the reasons on your fingers. “And so has Stephen. Not to mention, is that…” Squinting for a moment, your eyes then widen. “Is that a tattoo!?”

Slapping a hand to the right side of their neck, hiding what looked to be a small flower (?) tattoo, their eyes darted around, uncharacteristically flustered. If it weren’t impossible with their skin tone, they’d definitely be blushing, you bet. “Just get in the car, aight?”

Cheesing now, you watched as Mal practically stomped around to the driver’s side of the car. Pulling on the passenger side door, you got inside and closed your door, tossing your bookbag onto the backseat floor before buckling up. Turning to your cousin, you’re about to pile on the questions but the radio turned on, automatically switching to Spotify and blasting Do We Have a Problem? by Nicki Minaj. The two of you exchanged a glance and then y’all are in sync, singing and laughing, acting a whole goofy mess and without a care in the world, cruising down the darkened lanes of Sugardale.

You’re snapping your fingers and rolling ya neck as the last of the beat tapered off and the next song, an old-school Keyshia Cole banger you ain’t heard in a while, started to play. Mal reached out and pressed the button on the screen to turn the volume down, but before you could complain you saw the police cruiser pulling up in the next lane.

Biting your bottom lip, you kept your gaze pointed forward to the darkened streets, trying to keep calm and collected. You hadn’t realized you’d been tapping repeatedly at the middle console until Mal grasped your hand tight; any other time you’d complain about the pressure but right now it’s comforting. Moments pass and just when you worry that y’all are going to get pulled over, the car drives past, siren blaring, and turns the corner. Exhaling quietly, you tried to calm your racing heart and almost succeeded until you realized exactly where y’all are.

“You live in Toffee Springs?”

Sharply, Mal turned to look at you, just as she pulled up into the driveway of a rundown two-story house. Before the interrogation could truly begin, the front door opened and a familiar figure strode outside and walked down the stairs. The young, tattooed Asian man went to the backside of the car on the driver’s side and you heard the locks disengage. He pulled open the back door and an overhead light came on, right as he began to grab the contents off the backseat.

“Put that on the kitchen table please, Jay. Phylicity, help him out would you? Where is Triggs and, oh, there’s Stephen. Never mind then.”

The stranger, whom you turned down the offer to give you a ride downtown to Honeywood, and the same guy who was nice enough to stick around at the bus stop with you for as long as possible before outside factors made him leave, glanced to the front, where you’re sitting in the passenger seat.

Battling with awkwardness at the weird situation, yet still opting to be courteous, you smiled and lightly waved in his direction as a greeting but he didn’t do much besides continuing on with his task, hefting the contents underneath each arm and stepping backward, letting the car door swing close, heading back to the house.

Well.

Alright then.

Rolling your eyes heavenward, you unbuckle your seatbelt and quickly get out of the car.

“L’l sis!” Stephen’s excited yell nearly ruptures your eardrums as you’re caught up in a one-sided hug. Blinking, you laughed shortly, as for the second time tonight, you find your face squished against a clean white t-shirt smelling of something subtly sweet, probably his cologne.

After a few moments, close to half a minute of one-sided hugging, you patted his stomach, the nonverbal signal to let go which he did after gently pinching your cheek.

Irritated now, you swatted at him which he dodged with insulting ease, darting back to the car, dark green eyes glinting with amusement.

“Go in the house, we got this!”

If Mal is as tall as a tree, Stephen is a skyscraper comparably. He towered over men and women alike without effort and was even taller than Mal themself. The adults back in Bitterby had often joked that he’d sprouted from the womb fully grown and as he stood near the car, gesturing for Triggs to hand over the items in his hold, you could see it.

Shaking your head, you jog up the stone steps, striding across the small expanse, hand outstretched to touch the front doorknob when abruptly, the door swung open again. Standing there in the doorframe, blocking the entrance is Jay. Mouth pulling itself into a small frown, you start to go left, “‘Scuse me,” The phrase is half-assed, gaze darting to the right side of his profile, more interested in catching a peek of the house’s interior and feet already in motion.

Only Jay’s also thinking the same thing apparently, going left as well.

“Ay! Careful…” You’d nearly bumped into him and quickly shuffled backward before you could tread over his shoes. Ever experienced that stupid awkward shuffle thing, where Person A is going in one direction, expecting Person B to go the opposite way?

But they defy expectations and common sense and keep getting in the way?

Yeah, apparently that’s a thing that happens in reality.

The two of y’all are trapped in this hellish cycle for what feels like an eternity but in reality might have been a couple of seconds, before Jay just moves to the right, gesturing you to enter first.

You don’t look a gift horse in the mouth and quickly dart inside.

To the right, on the cream-colored walls are hooks for coats, hats, umbrellas, etc. An umbrella stand with at least three umbrellas neatly stacked inside beneath the wall hooks, and a shoe rack sits near the umbrella stand, adjacent to the spiraling wooden staircase leading to the upper level. Giving a quick glance to the left, there’s a door that’s half-opened.

Toeing off your shoes, an ingrained habit keeping you from walking around in outdoor footwear, leaving tracks, you neatly stack them in a spare space. Hearing the others come back up the front steps and not wanting to get in the way, you pushed open the door on the left, hand blindly reaching out for a light switch on the wall, as the room is pitch black, sighing with relief, and entered the room.

And stared.

The walls in this room sport a rich black wallpaper with bulbous bright yellow orbs stamped at random intervals that almost seemed to glow beneath the fluorescent lighting provided by the ceiling fan/light and the tall lamp in the upper left corner of the room. There’s a wooden dining table with a gray tablecloth covering the entirety, the cloth is long, falling over the sides but not onto the floor, and several matching wooden chairs are placed around the table.

Feeling like your head is on a swivel, you walk further into the room, around the table, and up to the floor-to-ceiling bookcase.

Rows upon rows of books line the shelves.

Not just books of one genre or series, but also comics, manga, and manhwa. Hand outstretched, you’re about to take Killing Stalking off the shelf but then you heard the commotion.

It’s slightly muffled but…hm.

Deciding to hold off on getting any recreational reading done, you turn back to the door you came through and peek your head out.

It’s obvious that they’re trying to keep their voices low but you’re nosy. Tiptoeing down the hall, you linger outside the half-closed door which leads to the kitchen area presumably.

There’s a thump.

Biting the inside of your cheek, peering carefully through the crack in the doorway, you hold your breath, waiting.

It didn’t take long.

"Shut.... mannnn, I swear on everything-" There's that familiar aggressive undertone prevalent in Stephen's voice that he's trying to contain. "You goofy ass muhfucka! You was standin' right there, you heard me! I told Phylicity to go in the house. I did, me, so if you got a problem..."

"That's not what he was sayin'," Jay is trying to smooth things over. "That's not what he was sayin' at all. Triggs was just-"

"I said what the fuck I said!" Triggs exploded. Jay pinched the bridge of his nose and threw up his hands in an oh-well way.  "I ain't runnin' a muhfuckin' maid and delivery service but maybe I should wit how y'all got me runnin’ ‘round doin' chores an’ shii like this my spot!”

"Who invited you here? That's what I'm trynna figure out?" Stephen retorted, completely fed up.

"Can y'all supposedly grown-ass adults act y'all age and stop yellin' and screamin' over somethin' so petty?" At last, Mal cut in, sounding completely done. "Phylicity, l’l miss thing, don't linger like that, it’s aight.  I promise, they friends, they just hotheaded."

Busted, you sheepishly pushed open the kitchen door fully and stepped inside.

To your immediate left, there’s an entryway and a door that potentially leads outside, as well as wooden stairs leading to the basement. Turning your attention forward, you see that there’s a table with aluminum pan after pan of food situated smack dab in the middle of the room. The black marble counters to the left are neat and besides the microwave and coffee machine, very little decoration.

“Do we pass inspection, l’l miss thing?”

Trying to control the rush of heat wanting to spread across your face, you poke your bottom lip at Mal who’s smirking lightly.

“You won’t be written up by the landlord at least,” With that cheeky quip and nose in the air, mimicking importance, you sweep your gaze around the room again, taking note of the black fridge and the little magnets stuck to the surface.

The stove is brand new and clean, there are no dishes in the sink.

“Nah, I’m playin’. I really like the aesthetic y’all got goin’ on here!” Gazing back at Mal as you reassured them but from the corner of your eye, you note that Stephen, leaned up against the door behind him, relaxed.

“Aight. ‘Nough o’ all that.” Stephen declared, leaning up and reaching behind him to twist the knob of the door. Opening it to reveal a pantry of sorts with all sorts of canned goods, an assortment of cereal, knock-off and name brands, plastic containers, etc.

He grabbed the bag which held paper food containers.

“Phy, plate us up, please.”

Reaching out, you accepted the food containers and placed them in an empty space on the table. You’re about to wash your hands first.

“Why she gotta plate the food up?” Triggs asked with annoyance. He was sitting at the end of the table in a chair while Jay’s leaning against the deep freezer. “It’s not like she helped bring any of it in and knowing y’all, it’s gon be someshit where she get t’ eat first ‘cause she a girl!”

Knowing Stephen, you can recognize that he’s at his limit and about to clown. Malicia sighed and their shoulders straightened, another person about finally snap.

And you just can’t.

“I was only ‘bout to plate Stephen, Mal, and myself up but go off I guess.” You manage to keep your voice calm and level, monotone even, as you went about your appointed task, filling the containers with food for three people.

Stephen and Mal definitely ate much, much more than most, you’d learned early.

You look Triggs dead in the eye, making sure that he read the truth of it all in your face - that you wasn’t scared of him, Stephen or no Stephen. Mal or no Mal. He could hoop and holler and get as l o u d as he wanted, he didn’t want the smoke if you really popped off.

Knock Out Thursdays were a tradition in Bitterby but apparently, you’d have to start it up again.

“C’mon, Triggs, man. Just chill.” Jay murmured, barely audible. He sounded as exhausted with the situation as anyone else.

There was a visible tick in Triggs’ jaw but he ended up looking away first, letting out a ‘tsk!’ like a cliché anime NPC and grumbled underneath his breath, but whatever he said was too low for you to hear anyway.

Satisfied with the outcome of this whole unnecessary debate as you may be, this debacle, along with everything that had happened tonight, made you less willing to be the proper guest that you’d been raised up to be.

“I’m not that hungry.” It’s a simple statement and only half true. You were a bit hungry, but you weren’t gonna pass out if you missed one meal. You read the protest all over Stephen’s face and held up the first container for him to take. “I’m just gon catch up on a few assignments and go to sleep.”

“Phylicity…” Stephen said lowly, a cajoling note entering his tone.

“I’ll be up in a little bit with a snack then,” Mal stated decisively, ignoring the way Stephen let out a betrayed sputter; he expected to be a united front, obviously. You’re about to reiterate that you’re not hungry but she reached out and grabbed the remaining food container from you, using her free hand to tug lightly at your left ear.

Hissing with agitation, you rub at the abused appendage, prepared to tell your cousin off but their raised eyebrow defeated you without another word uttered. You could almost hear Aunty Tara in the back of your skull, scolding you for having the audacity not to have three full course meals, and a snack, too, at least, if you were doing homework.

Rolling your eyes, you look to the left, conceding. “See you in a bit…” Turning on your heel, you’re about to stride right out of the kitchen.

“Guest room is on the end of the hallway after you get up the stairs. Can’t miss it. And I left ya bookbag at the top of the stairs.” Stephen piped in.

With a faint nod, you left the oppressive atmosphere and area, the kitchen door swinging closed after you. Placing a hand on the stair rail, you ascended the steps quickly, two at a time, until you reach the landing after the 11th step, caught your breath, as you were a bit winded, and saw your bookbag at the very top as promised. Continuing your trek, you bent down and snagged the strap, swinging it up onto its familiar position.

There are not many rooms in this hallway, four at the most.

Pressing lightly at the door of the room behind you, it opened and you see that it’s a bathroom. Nodding to yourself absently, you continue this little habit until you reach your destination at the end of the hall, and enter the room, closing the door after you see that the room, while a bit spartan, has all the required necessities.

Besides the bathroom and guest room, where you’d be sleeping, there’s a storage area, there’s no other word for it, as there are boxes marked MAL, STEPHEN, LINEN, etc, while the locked room is…

Mal’s? Stephen’s? Did they bunk together for space reasons?

Unsure of their dynamic, as in your eyes, it’d always been a little blurry. Sometimes, they acted like “regular” friends, other times, mainly Stephen, looked at Mal with such naked longing, it was pitiful as it was painful. However, sometimes, just sometimes, before the summer and their subsequent hiatus and detour from all social media, you’d caught them looking at Stephen a certain way too, always when he wasn’t looking…

‘Homework time, homework time.’ Deciding to give no more thought to it, you instead tossed your bookbag at the foot of the guest room’s bed. Then took a seat crisscross applesauce on the bed, doing some mild sprawling, twisting, and leaning, as you unzipped your bookbag and pulled out some homework that you’re determined to stay ahead of. As well as your pajamas, quietly cursing yourself for forgetting your phone charger.

Then you got into it and everything became background noise.

Time passed and although some assignments are a bit challenging, in the end, you managed to finish everything. Or mostly everything, there was one question that was getting on your nerves, but you may be overthinking it.

Cracking your knuckles idly, you turn your attention to the door after hearing a knock.

A little unnecessarily, but habitual to when you used to spend nights over the house with her and Aunt, Mal announced herself.

“It’s me and I come bearing gifts.”

Shaking your head slightly at her goofiness, you can’t ignore the little growl your stomach let out. “Come in, dumby.”

The door opened, and Mal entered, dressed in simple gray sweat pants and a sports bra, silk bonnet on her head, her choice of sleepwear showed off practically everything, which included her stretch marks and soft tummy, though it was tryna get some muscles, you guessed. “So mean, and here I thought you’d like your usual strawberry shortcake aaaaand,” Placing the paper plate with a thick slice of strawberry shortcake, as promised, on the bedside table, she pulled her other hand from behind her.

And in her hold….

“Mr. Snuffles!” It was with effort that you kept your voice at a reasonable tone but the sight of the first stuffed animal y’all ever worked on together, made you emotional. Normally that was an ew vibe, but this was a different situation.

Tonight was wild and you deserved to be a little mushy.

Just this once.

“I know you gave it to me when I moved out, but since you here, I just thought that, well…”

You didn’t bother listening to the rest of the sentence. You reached out and gingerly grasped the purple squid/squirrel creature, looking into its bulbous yellow eyes, and nostalgia flooded your body. Then you looked at your cousin and placed Mr. Snuffles in a comfortable position in the bed before reaching out, and Malicia automatically followed your move, wrapping her arms around you.

And oh, oh. There it was, there it was. Safety.

That feeling you’d need tonight.

Nothing could hurt you here, with Mal around.

Safety.

You listened to the slow, steady rhythm of their heartbeat. 

Safety.

“I missed seein’ yo big-headed butt. You gotta come over more often.” Mal’s voice is strained, you can hear the unasked question in her tone but you don’t answer it. You can’t answer that you’re okay because it’d be a lie and they always made the most disappointed face when you lied to them, but you’re getting there.

Repression had always been easy for you.

“Nah, we’d get really tired of seein’ each other all the time. It’d be like nothing changed.” You tried to assure them though.

Mal sighed and leaned back, gaze roving over your face. Whatever they saw only made the furrow in their brow deepen. “...Some things never have to change and your priority is definitely one of them.”

Uh-oh, incoming feels talk.

“Phylicity. I know you hate to hear it because you think I’m baby’ing you, but I…. You can always count on me, day or night, big or small, I’m on your side. More than my cousin, you’re my little sister, and I love you.”

“....I love you too.” The words are a whisper and your face is on fire, but still. Still, you said it.

Mal sighed softly. “I’m tempted to camp out here wit that air mattress I got,” The horror that flashes across your face makes them laugh and they tap your nose before slowly detangling from your embrace. “But I’ma leave you to your very important college homework shenanigans.” Pointing their finger in your face, they shot you a warning glance as they start to stride for the door again. “No later than 2 am, though, and I will be back to check!”

With that last parting remark, you’re left alone with your thoughts, but this time, you have Mr. Snuffles with you and suddenly, you decide to save that last question for the morning, at a reasonable-ish hour. You strip out of your clothes again for the night and get into your pajamas, then slide underneath the covers, cuddling the stuffie close to you.

Sleep comes easier than it would have originally.

[herequeerexitentialfear]

I am the softly falling snow

my first ffxiv writing about my wol! spoilers for heavenward post the vault as well as the dragoon level 60 quest, and the beginning of stormblood, although all are vague and the second and third are one line each. warning for grief [you know what im taking about] title taken from 'do not stand at my grave and weep'

the observations and musings of solider of camp dragons head as he watches the warrior of light.

The near silhouette of dragoon armor on top of a black chocobo moved over the white snow towards the observatorium. The unusual size of bird and warrior alike marked it as the warrior of light and her favored mount, probably pounding towards Ser Bale and another of his tasks.

The soldiers of dragons head camp had seen her make that trip many previous times. 

Once, the large warrior bursting from the atherite and calling her mount from the stables before running though the gate full speed had caused alarm (and laughter, wild affectionate laughter that these walls no longer heard.)

It still did, as the wide eyes of the fresh blood paired up with him showed. But it could yet be awe of the near mythical woman, someone who became so quickly a hero of ishgard.

He remembered her when she was a lancer still, wandering through the snow, sprinting, terrified of the monsters she now slays with ease, towards the domineering walls of the camp, where the glow of the atherite peaked over the towering stone.

(Still remembers her and her friends shivering bodies crawling through the snow, the near blizzard obscuring them until they got close, frozen to the core, hearts heavy with grief and anger, heroes of eorzea no more, just another group of people seeking refuge)

Still remembers secretive meetings, a parade of notable people that they were sworn to silence about, in and out of that door- a needless gesture in the face of their loyalty to the commander. (still remembers his commander reactions to those meetings)

Despite himself, he is smiling. Memories of the same journey, of when she would stop before pounding down, or even her slow ascents back up towards the warmth of the keep (towards the warmth of the seat of command and the hidden away room and the man within) after grueling missions to prove herself a dragoon.

She doesn't hesitate anymore. Doesn’t pause, just whistles and then moves. She summons the chocobo on the atherite platform, not even reveling in the leap from atop it before doing so.

There has been a lot less joy in Dragons Head. The other outpost’s celebrations of the end of the war and final defeat of the dread wyrm were noticeably louder, the stone walls here still suffocating in grief. 

He found himself wondering if that quiet celebration and suffocating loss was matched in the infamous headquarters of the knights dragoon. Although, they were accustomed to the high death toll and constant grief that marked the years post calamity long before. It hurt to think of the heroes' fellow dragon slayers moving exactly the same, already accustomed to drowning in loss, unchanged even after the horror that befell their leader, and the death of Ser de Vimaroix.

And yet the veil was slowly lifting here. The new soldiers that accompanied the new commander, uncertain around the solemn faces, reminding them of how hospitable these walls were meant to be. The slow acceptance of what happened, the creeping pride in the future he helped create.

A flash of fire shakes him out of his musings, one of the stone giants falling to the heroes first attack. She pauses as the corpse collapses into aether, possibly in shock at how quickly the stone beast fell to her spear, before sprinting towards the next one, to slay it too.

The next one suffers the same swift fate, with her now mere yalms away from the gate.

She enters slowly, and he hurries to the other side of the battlements, not wanting to lose sight of her.

She walks into the commander's room, pulling closed the door behind her. He lets out a breath he was unaware of holding. 

The fresh blood stares at him, eyes wide, before shaking his head and continuing patrol. Evidently the young soldier thought him quite mad, but given the other eyes glued to their armored friend, he was not alone.

The door opened again, the warrior walking out, before… standing still. She seemed almost regretful, the opposite of her confident step in. A shared glance with the guard by the door confirmed his worries.

No doubt when their shifts were up, he would hear the whispers of what happened in that room.

The snow had already drowned her footprints, and was threatening to settle on her hair, before she moved. 

Moved towards the alleyway between the buildings.

Moved towards the door.

His heart ached for her.

After she entered, he waited. Eventually he restarted his patrol, yet still glanced towards the alleyway more than he should have.

-

In the end, he only saw her exit when he was climbing down after his shift had ended. Her solemn face mostly hidden by her helmet. 

The helmet she wasn't wearing when she walked in.

It did little to hide the tightness of her lips, but he had seen dragoon after dragoon hide emotional eyes behind mithril visor - there's a reason the warrior wearing the helmet with the visor up had been a surprise, her fellow warriors all either forgoing the helmet or hiding behind it.

He silently wished her well and for her heart to be at ease. Their commander wasn't the only person they were missing, but she had been taken from them in an entirely different way.

Still it comforted them all, these little glimpses of her, to see her alive, still running, still fighting, growing ever stronger.

He hoped it would be a sight he saw until they were both old and gray. 

He knew that with the way she threw herself into cause after cause, with the whispers of her fighting garleans in the dessert, his hopes, the hopes of the whole camp (the hopes of their commander) might be betrayed.

Yet still he hoped.