#ffxiv write

[winddragonart]

In honor of FFXIV 2024 starting up soon, I offer you the past prompts on pretty images.

I needed these prompts all in one place for each year, but couldn't find any, sooooooo I made them myself.

Feel free to use as needed.

@sea-wolf-coast-to-coast you can use them as well.

[mimble-sparklepudding]

1. Steer.

On a road trip with a stern Oronir,

I was attempting to switch into first gear,

When he caused sudden drama,

Claiming he'd seen his Nhaama,

Which made it quite tricky to steer...

FFXIVwrite2024 Silliness begins...

[somehumandrawing]

Chapter 5 - Stamp

Hey look a Moogle!

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

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

[shatterstag]

So I just made something really really cool, for the first time ever, with my best friend, and I’m really really proud of it and it makes me want to get back into social media so I can tell people what a fucking crazy experience it was and the CRACKED workflow I developed to get it finished

So I guess maybe I will get back into tumblr and this is a bit of a life/journal update as a 31 year old who first posted on tumblr when I was freshly 18, because! Im trying to start my own small business. I lost my job as a games artist at the place I worked at for five years. I worked my blood sweat and tears into games that were nationally nominated at a fancy awards ceremony stage. I was really good at it!!

But my life suddenly fell apart when I went no contact with my mom, and my best friend/housemate was diagnosed with very rare cancer, and we were kicked out of our house so they could jack up the rent literally the week after their emergency life saving invasive surgery, and my wrist injury came back from moving and work and stress and I became disabled because of it, and I lost my job and several close friends because I had a full on nervous breakdown and physically couldn’t work or leave the house.

So that’s where I’ve been at for the last two years. And it was really overwhelming. I kinda have ptsd from it. But I’m getting my life back on track a little bit more and more and my wonderful girlfriend supports me while I try to venture back into making my own art and working for myself. I’ve got some really fun stuff in the works, I’m combining my art, 3d and ideas into 3d printing, which I really love and have gotten into. And I want to get back into making art and merch. And I also get to do it with my best friend, which is really cool and exciting! And we’ve been writing together for years and years now and have these two characters who turn the world for us, and now!!!

Now I’ll get to share a little bit about them because!! We worked hundreds of hours in a single week including over 60 hours together in two days and a 24 hour nonstop sprint to the finish line.

And it’s a comic about gay rabbit suplex yaoi.

I’m feeling very nostalgic because tumblr was crucial in helping me find myself and connect with others back in the golden era. I had so much fun back then, and I published my very first webcomic when I was 13 on Drunk Duck, and in two days I’m going to be selling my debut comic at a local queer market. And that’s just so cool.

So please look forward to it 🫡

[the-sycophant]

FFXIV Write 2024 - Prompt 02 - Horizon

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

Miss Marlowe Morning sat silently. Sulkingly.

Uncomfortable. Undeniably unhappy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[mrlarkstin]

FFXIV Write Day 1: Steer

[luck-and-larceny]

FFXIV Write: Tempest

You're as charming as ever,” he says to me with a smile on his lips and malice in his eyes. With Marrant every compliment is actually criticism.

“That's true,” I reply and beam a giant grin at him that I hope is so brilliantly charming it fucking blinds him. “Which is why you went out of your way to contact me. You've missed this,” I motion back and forth to the “this” between us; it's nothing but animosity.

We stare at each other for what feels like a lifetime, neither of us blinking. I just come around to the idea that this interaction is intensely stupid when he sighs (and, notably, blinks first).

“Look, Lika, I need your help,” he finally says.

“Oh, is that all?” I ask cheerfully, “Great! No.”

Ah, that felt good! I just sat down at this bar and now I'm getting back up again. I love a good exercise.

I'm out the door in a heartbeat, but he's right behind me. He grabs my arm to keep me from disappearing into the night. I slap his face for having the audacity. The sound echoes through the empty alleyway we now stand in. Wow. Great acoustics in this spot!

A storm crosses his face, darkening every feature and tensing his jaw. I love storms. I especially love them on his face because it means I've pissed him off. If we fight here, anybody in proximity– tourists wandering the city at night,  patrons in the bar, the asshole wine vendor parked right outside the bar selling overpriced bottles to the already drunk patrons exiting said bar– will need to run for cover. 

It's been so long since I've seen that expression on his face that I almost welcome it. Let's have it out here. Let him tell me how I ruined his life all those years ago. Let me tell him he hasn't seen anything yet.

But the storm passes almost as soon as it arrives. I'm surprised. And mildly disappointed. I pretend I'm neither and return to the earlier game of staring bitchily at him and not blinking. It's still stupid. Oh, well.

“I need you to rob a rival of mine,” he finally says after a breath to gather his senses again.

Here's another thing about Marrant: He always hated when I stole things… except  for when I'd steal them for him. Seems nothing has really changed.

“Fascinating,” I reply. “Tell me more. Who is this rival?”

Relief softens his features. “His name is Audr Shade. His home is in Lavender Beds.”

“Audr Shade?” I repeat thoughtfully.

“That's right.”

Great!” I chirp. “I'll just go off and let him know you wanted to hire someone to rob him. Maybe he'll give me something nice for being an upright citizen! But even if he doesn't it'll still be worth it because I did something good and moral.”

He used to say shit about how I wasted all my talent doing pointless, petty tomfoolery instead of something ambitious, moral, and good. I hate the me that dated this blowhard. I also hate the me that remembers anything he said to me during that time.

He smiles at my response. His inner monologue is probably something like: “She used to pretend what I said didn't bother her. When she responds by repeating my words back at me I see that it did. I smile because in that moment I know I've won.”

Forget all the mes that I hate. I hate this asshole most of all.

“Fuck you, Marrant.”

“Mature as ever, Lika. Listen, I know you despise me. And you know the feeling is mutual. So consider for just a moment that if I've come to you that, sure, yes, I'm desperate. But there might also be something you can get out of it that is even better than my desperation.”

Obviously I want to say there's nothing better than his desperation but that lends itself far too easily to a sex joke. And there's really nothing that would repulse me more than associating sex with this guy ever again.

Better, I think, to say, “I don't care. This is boring.  I'm going home now.”

He looks annoyed before replying, “But you do care about something and I have information about it. I will give you that information if you first rob Audr Shade and then rob me immediately after.”

Then rob him immediately aft– what the hell? No. Don't fall for this, Malika. You don't care. 

“I don't care.  Good luck with the self-sabotage or whatever the fuck, you absolute fungus.”

“The Tempest Tapestry,” he says quickly. “I know where it can be found.”

I'm speechless. It's not because I'm impressed by what he's said; it's because I'm pissed. If I open my mouth to say anything at all it will open so wide that I will swallow him whole. I look like a 5’4” miqo’te standing in a dingy alleyway, but I’m actually a swirling vortex of rage. How dare he try this on me? How dare he even say those words?

He takes my silence as a good sign because he's an idiot. “It wasn't easy,” he says with a self-satisfied preen and smile.

“It's impossible,” I correct him as levelly as I can, “Because it isn't real. I already looked into it. You didn't find shit because there isn't shit to find, Marrant.”

There’s a legend that there is a book so old that only luck and spite keeps it held together. I admire that. The cover is said to be sewn together by thousands of threads, all a different color. That book is said to hold the answers of how to find the first item ever spun in the Spinner’s loom: The Tempest Tapestry. The book is named the same. I’d told Marrant years ago that finding and stealing that would be the ultimate job. I'd stop stealing after that.

I didn't mean it, of course. That's stupid. Might as well tell me to stop breathing. But if the book existed– which, again, it doesn't because I've fucking looked– I'd still want it.

“There's no such book,” I say, my voice low, hot and full of barbed wire. I'm saying this to myself more than to him. I can't get obsessed looking for this again. I can't. It almost destroyed me the first time.

“I'm not talking about the book,” he counters. “I mean the actual tapestry, Lika. I can tell you where it is.” No, he can't. That's stupid and offensive.

But I'm in trouble. I could and should say no this. Whoever has told him they know where this tapestry is is lying because there isn't one. It isn't real. It's a story.

But someone believes they have something they are pretending is the Tempest Tapestry. That's 1) blasphemy, I suppose and 2) fucking intriguing. Of course I want to see what someone thinks they could pretend is a legendary artifact.

And even when it's nothing but trash I'm going to want to steal it. Stories are more important than truth. People tend to believe in stories more than they believe the truth, too. Stories have power.

I'm so dizzy with wanting to do this, I think I might throw up.

This is a trap. It's so obvious. I go to steal from this Audr Shade guy and then from Marrant as he's requested and there are guards waiting at his place to apprehend me– that's GOT to be his plan. That has to be why he wants me to rob him.  There's no tapesty. He is making it up. Say no to this, Malika. Walk away. Walk away. Walk away.

“Fine. Tell me more.”

I'm so fucked.

[yzeltia]

FFXIVwrite 2024 Master Post

Total Word Count: 37,168 Longest Story: Devastation/Windmill/Curse @ 3,248 Top Posts of 2024 (Sept 30)Tumblr: Halycon AO3: Telling Top Posts of All FFXIV Writes (Sept 30 2024) Tumblr: Missed the Boat AO3: Nuzzle

*Indicates that the story takes place during that Expansion's timeline but otherwise spoiler free.

Day 1 (Shb): Steer Day 2 (DT): Horizon Day 3 (DT): Tempest Day 4 (DT): Reticent Day 5 (EW): Stamp Day 6: (DT): Halcyon Day 7: (EW): Morsel Day 8: (EW)*: Wedding Vows Day 9: (DT) Lend an Ear Day 10: (EW) Stable Day 11: (DT) Surrogate Day 12: (EW) Quarry Day 13: (EW) Butte Day 14: (EW) Telling Day 15: (EW) Misdirection Day 16: (EW) Third-Rate Day 17: (EW)* Sally Day 18: (EW)* Hackneyed Day 19: (EW) Taken Day 20: (EW)* Duel Day 21: (DT) Shade Day 22: (DT) Convergence Day 23: (DT) On Cloud Nine Day 24: (DT)* Bar Day 25: (EW) Perpetuity Day 26: (EW)* Zip Day 27: (EW)* Memory Day 28: (DT) Deleterious Day 29: (EW)* Devastation/Windmill/Curse Day 30: (DT) Two Heads Are Better Than One

Below is my calendar of blorbos! My goal this year was to not let the blorobs touch to ensure I spread my attention around! Archon symbol is for vignettes. Azem symbol is for my WOL Trio.

[avampyone]

FFXIVWrite 2024 Master list

I held off on creating a master list initially since I wasn't 100% certain I would be able to finish these. I was going through stressful RL situations last year and wasn't able to complete it then- I'm glad to be in a better place to do so this year!

------------

Prompt #1: Steer - A New Path

Prompt #2: Horizon - In His Snare

Prompt #3: Tempest - Of Love and Duty

Prompt #4: Reticent - The Wingman

Prompt #5: Stamp - Letter from the Lost Days

Prompt #6: Halcyon - A Visitor at Dusk

Prompt #7: Morsel - Serendipity

Prompt #8: Brain rest day

Prompt #9: Lend an Ear - The Outsider

Prompt #10: Stable - Synthesis Failed

Prompt #11: Surrogate - Never Forgotten

Prompt #12: Quarry - Promise

Prompt #13: Butte - The Prime Suspect

Prompt #14: Telling - Haunted

Prompt #15: Brain rest day

Prompt #16: Third-rate - Wayward Son

Prompt #17: Sally - The Night's Embrace

Prompt #18: Hackneyed - Unexpected Meeting

Prompt #19: Taken - A Little Warmth

Prompt #20: Duel - The Dreamers

Prompt #21: Shade - A Long-awaited Reunion

Prompt #22: Brain rest day

Prompt #23: On Cloud Nine: The Last Waltz

Prompt #24: Bar: More Mezcal

Prompt #25: Perpetuity: Aesthete

Prompt #26: Zip - Camouflage

Prompt #27: Memory - Beguiling Dark

Prompt #28: Deleterious - Rendezvous

Prompt #29: Brain rest day

Prompt #30: Two Heads Are Better Than One: Serenity

[starlit-seadragon]

Day 19 - Taken

The Eorzean Alliance is yet young, though it has many allies.

Some of them are a little closer than others expected.

Set early post-SB

WC: 1453

Rated F for fluff?

My FFXIV Write Masterpost here.

Nanamo was the first to notice.

Had she not been seated next to Lord Aymeric, she might have missed the exchange entirely. Though the mountains in which Ala Mhigo were tucked cooled the air significantly, the day was still hot. For their privacy, the doors of the meeting room had been closed, but the windows remained open, curtains billowing lazily in the desperately-needed breeze. Outside the palace, far enough away that they could not hear, people milled about, performing various tasks.

Beside her, Lord Aymeric straightened suddenly and looked away from the conversation. Nanamo fought the urge to stare. She had not considered the present topic to be an offensive one, but perhaps there was a cultural difference with Ishgard that she was not aware of. She had a mind to inquire about it afterwards─and then watched him break into a radiant smile that was gone from his lips a moment latee but remained in his eyes.

Curious, Nanamo followed his line of sight.

Out the window, the Warrior of Light was walking past. When she caught Nanamo's eye, she waved. Nanamo waved a small hand back.

On her other side, Raubahn leaned forward.

"I must apologize, Your Grace, for not being engaging enough company to keep your focus," he teased.

"Your apology is accepted, Raubahn," Namao replied archly. "Pray rest assured you have my full focus─I merely chanced to espy our friend Shirayume through the window and was returning her greeting."

The other Alliance leaders turned in their seats to peer out the window. Now red-cheeked and smiling apologetically, Shirayume waved to them all. The leaders of the Alliance returned the gesture.

"Perhaps a short respite is called for" Kan-E suggested. "We have been in council for an extended period─a little fresh air and movement might do us good."

The group assented, agreeing to return at the next bell. Slowly, they rose, stretching and making small talk. Nanamo remained in her seat. Raubahn stood just behind his.

"Do you mean to remain here, Your Grace?"

"For a time, I think. I'll follow soon, Raubahn. I'd like to walk the garden. Pray take your leave."

"I should be glad to join you, Your Grace, when you do."

Nanamo smiled. "Then I shall meet you there shortly, my friend."

With that, he quit the room. Nanamo sat back in her seat and sighed. Though the long hours could be wearying, to have so many in the Alliance warmed her heart; these meetings gave her far less headache than did those of the Syndicate. With a prolonged yawn, she hopped down from her seat and rubbed her eyes.

Upon opening them, she noticed the Warrior of Light was still outside the window.

As was Lord Aymeric.

Shirayume beamed up at him, and he mirrored the expression as he spoke. She listened attentively, almost enrapt, one arm crossed over to hold the other, tail swaying gently back and forth. He was inclined towards her, bent slightly at the waist, lessening the distance between them. They did not touch as they spoke, but they stood so near to one another that a breeze could have pushed them into each other's arms.

Nanamo blinked, breath caught. She could not remember when she had last seen Shirayume smile so.

Footsteps announced someone's approach.

"Your Grace?" Raubahn asked. "Forgive me if I've disturbed you; I just wanted to see if you were all right."

Evidently, she'd been standing here longer than she thought.

Raubahn approached her, looking to where her attention had been focused. When he caught sight of the pair outside, he inhaled sharply.

Eyes still on them, he asked in a low voice, "Do you think they're...?"

"Without a doubt," Nanamo confirmed, turning her gaze back towards them.

"I must admit to some surprise. I never would have expected such a match."

Nanamo looked up at him. "No? Whyever not?"

Raubahn scratched his chin. "It feels somewhat foolish to say aloud, but given how long Ishgard had been absent from the Alliance, I expected it would take a longer period of time for them to 'warm to us,' so to speak."

Nanamo smiled. "They may still be warming to us, my friend. But I believe it quite apparent that Lord Aymeric has warmed to *her.*"

They did not hear other Alliance leaders approach until Merlwyb spoke behind them, "Well. That certainly explains the Grand Melee."

"Do you suspect it has been going on since then?" Kan-E murmured.

"For such a strong affection? It must have begun well before."

Kan-E nodded, brow pinched. "He seems quite taken with her."

"Can you fault him for it?" Merlwyb asked. "She has a way of disarming shuttered hearts."

"Has he the shuttered heart, or is it Ishgard who possesses it?"

"Well," Lyse drew out the word as she reached the group and joined their observation. Her cheeks widened with her grin. "I see their time apart has done very little to change their feelings for one another."

Nanamo, Raubahn, Merlwyb, and Kan-E all turned to look at her as one. The grin dropped off Lyse's face. A flush spread over her cheeks.

"...I don't suppose you could pretend you didn't hear that."

After a moment, Kan-E touched a hand to her chest. "Did they intend to conceal it indefinitely?"

Lyse huffed out a laugh. "Only from themselves. There's nothing happening between them. At least, I don't think there is. Though... Yume didn't really talk about what happened during their camping trip..."

"Camping trip?" The group echoed, brows raised.

A tense silence followed.

"Oh gods," Lyse muttered. She cleared her throat and raised her hands, fingers splayed in defense. Her eyes darted wildly between them.

"Look, it's really none of our business, is it?"

Merlwyb crossed her arms. "Ordinarily, I would agree. In this case, however, there is somewhat more at stake. The star can ill-afford its champion playing favorites."

Lyse's voice was hard and sharp as a blade. "She wouldn't. You know she wouldn't."

The silence that descended smothered like the heat.

Lyse scoffed. Her hands clenched at her sides "Has she ever given you cause to doubt her before? What of when she was an adventurer based in Gridania? Did she play favorites then?"

The other leaders exchanged a look.

"She did not," Kan-E conceded, slow and even-toned, "but this situation does not quite compare."

Lyse shook her head. "I don't believe this."

"Mistress Hext is right," Nanamo interjected. "We ought to trust in our friends and allies. We are all of us adults. Since Ishgard's rejoining of the Eorzean Alliance, Lord Aymeric has been naught but a staunch ally."

"A little before that, even," Raubahn admitted.

"And that aside," she continued, "Shirayume deserves our confidence in her. As our friend and hero, we owe her the benefit of the doubt."

Kan-E, Raubahn, and Merlwyb looked to the floor. Lyse leaned against the window sill.

"And... just look at her," Lyse said softly.

They did. Aymeric spoke with animation, and in response Yume laughed so heartily that a few other people around them turned to look.

"Even if it doesn't go anywhere..." Lyse said. "The Twelve know there's been enough misery lately... we can afford them a little bit of happiness, can't we? Just a little."

She threw them an imploring look. They acquiesed with tight smiles. Nanamo met Lyse's eyes with open regard.

"We should certainly make an effort to," Nanamo agreed. Lyse returned her smile.

The bell struck then.

All in the meeting room turned towards the open window to find Aymeric and Shirayume, looking back at them with disquiet. Only Lyse had the presence of mind to duck to the side, out of sight.

Their gazes held a moment longer before Shirayume's lips moved inaudibly. Aymeric turned to look at her and then nodded stiffly before walking away. Shirayume turned in the opposite direction. She did not look back to the window.

Moments later, Aymeric reappeared in the meeting room's doorway. His face was a mask of composure, the only sign of his discomfiture the redness in his cheeks.

"Shall we proceed?" he asked calmly as he took his seat. Without another word, he took up a quill and scanned the parchment in front of him.

The other Alliance leaders remained standing, staring at one another.

Finally, in strode Lord Hien, whistling an airy tune. He stopped short as he took in the scene before him.

With a hint of confusion, he spoke, "I... trust all had a pleasant and refreshing recess?"

Nanamo chuckled as she retook her seat. "Some of us more than others, I expect."

Aymeric froze, quill mid-air. Lyse smirked.

"But pray," she said. "Let us return to business."

[dainesanddaffodils]

FFXIV WRITE 2024 DAY 1: STEER

Hello friends! This is my first year doing ffxiv write and I’m really excited!! We’ll see how much I get done lol

Anyway Day 1: Steer

A young Cimorene travels on her first ship and considers both present and future travels || Pre-Canon || Rated G || 630 words

Before Cimorene Greystone was the Warrior of Light, she’d simply been Cimorene, daughter of Geneq Mol. But, though her life had been infinitely simpler back then, it had been by no means static.

“Sunshine, step away from the wheel; let the man steer our ship,” her father gently scolds.

Cimorene, a girl of nine summers, pouts - first at her father, then at the sailor in question. He’s as tall as Geneq but almost twice as wide with vibrant green skin and a wiry grey beard. He grins down at her.

“Got an interest in ships, lass?” He asks.

Cimorene glances again at her father. He is constantly making friends with strangers, leaving every town they enter with a dozen different folk promising him - and, by extension, her - a room and a drink the next time they pass through. She’s never seen any of that come to fruition. In her memory they’ve never been in the same town twice.

She doesn’t know how he does it, say the right thing, make the right joke, read people’s intentions and personalities with little more than a look. Maybe it’s something you’re born with, rather than learn. Still, she isn’t going to know if she is always letting him do the talking. She’s almost 10, after all.

“Never been on a ship til today,” she tells the man, trying to get her quiet voice to carry - the way it did when she sang. “Been on a ferry but they’re not half so big. And they only go one place - these go all over, don’t they?”

The man laughs but it seems to be with delight and not at her expense. Geneq laughs as well, gently ruffling her hair until she shakes him off, feeling a more genuine smile form.

“To an extent, aye. There are specific routes we sailors have navigated over the ages, ones we knows are safe, and we charge those lookin to charter accordingly for that an’ the distance, but there are few places we can’t getcha.”

Cimorene considers this, looking ahead at the vast ocean toward where they’re headed - La Noscha. It’s the first time she’s ever left the Shroud, at least in her memory. She has a mental map of where she and her father have been but mental is all it has ever been. Whether Geneq is actually traveling aimlessly or if he, like her, has a perfect memory for places and has a clear path in mind she doesn’t know and has never asked. What she knows is her life feels like an autumn leaf on a breeze, like the sea air on her face now. Light and free. That’s how she wants it to stay.

“I think I’d like to be a sailor,” she declares.

Geneq laughs. “I’m betting it’s a fair bit more work than it sounds.”

She scowls up at him. “I don’t mind work!” Both men simply laugh harder.

The old sailor glances at her father, exchanges a wink Cimorene bets they think she didn’t see. “Tell ya what little lassie, when we get closer to port I’ll let ya take a turn on the wheel. We’ll see if ya have the knack.”

It’s clearly a consolation but the prospect is nonetheless a thrilling one so she perks up. “I would like that.”

Her father claps her on the shoulder affectionately. “Now let’s let him get back to work. We’ve still got another day on this ship at least.”

Cimorene nods and even lets him hoist her up on to his shoulders, even though she usually complains that she’s too old to be carried like this. He likes it and she has a better view of the sea and horizon line. The wide world that still awaited her, and the endless possibilities.

[winddragonart]

FFXIV Write 2024 #1: Steer

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

[kikisqueaks]

FFXIV Write 2024 Masterpost

This'll be my first year actively taking part, so I'm not gonna put any pressure on myself. I'm just gonna do the ones that speak to me.

---> FFXIV Write 2024 Carrd <---

Day 1 : Steer • A Reflection On Direction • [AO3] [Tumblr]

Day 2 : Horizon • Everyday's An Adventure • [AO3] [Tumblr]

Day 3 : Tempest

Day 4 : Reticent • A Secret She Keeps • [AO3] [Tumblr]

Day 5 : Stamp • Post For The Post Mog • [AO3] [Tumblr]

Day 6 : Halcyon • Memories Of Midsummer • [AO3] [Tumblr]

Day 7 : Morsel

Day 8 : (Extra Credit/Make-Up Day)

Day 9 : Lend An Ear

Day 10 : Stable

Day 11 : Surrogate

Day 12 : Quarry • Mini Adventure • [AO3] [Tumblr]

Day 13 : Butte

Day 14 : Telling

Day 15 : (Extra Credit/Make-Up Day)

Day 16 : Third-Rate

Day 17 : Sally

Day 18 : Hackneyed

Day 19 : Taken

Day 20 : Duel

Day 21 : Shade

Day 22 : (Extra Credit/Make-Up Day)

Day 23 : On Cloud Nine

Day 24 : Bar

Day 25 : Perpetuity

Day 26 : Zip

Day 27 : Memory

Day 28 : Deleterious

Day 29 : (Extra Credit/Make-Up Day)

Day 30 : Two Heads Are Better Than One

[theshotsheardacrossworlds]

FFXIV Write: Morsel

Set early in Dawntrail MSQ, Agnes experiences what she considers to be a culinary tragedy and then Estinien makes it up to her later. Starts SFW and then delves into NSFW territory (no actual sex occurs---just talk and references) towards the end.

It was a nightmare.

Agnes’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open as the scene played out in front of her.

The confrontation between her, Krile, Wuk Lamat, and the two-headed twat which ended in—

NOT THE TACOS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Their bag of tacos hit the ground and were destroyed by the two-headed twat.

Not a morsel can be saved.

I’m so fucking hungry.

And this…two-headed little bitch thinks he…wait, if someone has two heads…fuck it, that asshole better watch out.

Because you don’t fuck around with Agi Varlineau.

Especially when it comes to food.

I will crush a Blood Lily, twat.

Unfortunately for the Warrior of Light, there would not be another opportunity to eat before a late evening dinner with Estinien and the children were already asleep. FUCK.

The elezen watched with great amusement at his wife wolfing down tacos. My grumpy dragon got me tacos, because he LOVES me. “Are you good, madam?” He began to laugh uncontrollably. Doubling over. Laughing.

“Wot?!” Agnes asked through a mouthful of taco.

Estinien was unable to answer for several moments because he’s still laughing. I’m hungry! I’ve been hungry! I need to pack some snacks in my bag… “You’re just really hungry, I suppose!” He moved his chair closer to hers and gave one of her soft sides a pinch. And a wink. SER!

She reached for her water and sipped. “I’ll have you know, ser, that the last time I ate today was breakfast this morning. We were supposed to have tacos around lunch, but that two-headed little bitch ruined them. And then we had to do a billion fucking things, and Krile and Wuk Lamat seemed alright so I just sort of went along…and Estinien, stop laughing, you naughty man!” Agnes playfully smacked her husband and then gave him several kisses. “You…are…very…naughty…”

“Well, tis a good thing I got plenty of tacos for my overworked and underappreciated wife.” He teased, rubbing her sides. I love him. “I’d be a piss poor husband if I didn’t see to all my lady’s needs.”

Raising an eyebrow, she made a face at him as she picked up another taco. “You are not a piss poor husband, love.” She took a bite of the taco and laughed softly. “You’re the very best husband.”

Without missing a beat, Estinien smirked. “And you’re the very breast wife, Agi.”

“ESTINIEN!” She mumble-yelled around her taco, swallowing the bite she previously took. “You. Are.” Kiss. Kiss for my grumpy dragon. “The. Breast. Husband. Ever.”

Devolving into giggles, the couple held each other as they laughed. Laughing so hard we’re both crying. Gods, he’s so silly when he wants to be. “Wants to be” being the key phrase, Mr. Grumpy Dragon. At some point when they collected themselves, Estinien held the unfinished taco to Agnes’s lips, which quirked into a smile. “The very best.” She whispered before taking a bite and kissing him. “You know, love…” she began as she reached for her glass. “I’m getting very well compensated for this little job.”

He hummed, watching her sip her water.

“I was thinking that maybe we could donate some of it to the orphanage in Radz-at-Han. They could always use it, and I remember one of the ladies there said an upcoming project would be to build an outdoor play area for the children.” She shrugged. “Why not use some of my fee to pay for it?” Her eyes widened. “But of course, it would be anonymous. I don’t want that sort of attention on us. It’s a good thing. It’s about the children, not who paid for it.”

Estinien nodded. “I agree.” Oh, he’s smiling, which means he thinks I fucking nailed it. “An excellent idea, my angel.” He picked up his bottle of ale and sipped. “My fee for sparring with the Dawnservant is substantial as well. Mayhap when we return to Radz-at-Han, we can look into getting a larger apartment—”

Excuse me?!?!?

She could have sworn her jaw dropped. “Estinien! I…” Agnes took a breath to calm down. Because, fuck he’s right but also we can manage for a while yet. “I realize that now with three children, our two-bedroom apartment is feeling…slightly…more cramped, but…hear me out. Please.” She took his hands in his and gazed into pale blue eyes. I love you. Please. “We can make it work for now. I love our apartment. I-It’s our home. It’s where we’ve finally been able to live as a couple and then as a family. I love our neighbors. I love it. I love us being there.” But. There’s always a but. “However, I know that if---gods’ forbid---I have another set of twins, then we really need to get something bigger.”

He barked a laugh. “Agi, for Fury’s sake, even with one more baby, we’ll need at least three bedrooms, if not four. But as you say, for now we’ll manage. After all, me and Hami shared a room in our cottage, and they’re still little yet.” He grinned. “Though, I don’t think Hami and Marc will want to share a room with their big sister in the future.”

Oh good gods, no.

“They absolutely won’t, and more importantly, it won’t get to that point. So to be clear, after the next one we find a bigger place?”

I have him.

It’s reasonable enough.

He sighed, a rueful smile on his face. “Aye. No matter what it is---one, two, three, five---doesn’t matter. We need to get a larger home, Agi.” He rested his hands on her ample waist and kissed her. “Don’t worry, my love. We shall make it our home. I promise.”

Then the Warrior of Light had a realization that felt like she was slapped across the face.

Home is wherever he is.

So long as Estinien is there, it’s home.

Because he’s my home.

“You’re my home.” She whispered against his lips, her eyes meeting his.

“And you’re mine.”

Yours. I’m yours. Always.

Estinien suddenly smirked as red aether swirled around him. OH?!?!?! “I should very much like to reacquaint myself with the very breast wife’s tits.” OH?!?!?!?!?!? “If that is to her liking.”

To Agnes, there was only one possible response.

“You bet your ass it’s to her liking. Oh my gods!” She gasped as he lifted her using Nidhogg’s strength, laughing. “Estinien, I love you so much!” Wrapping her long, soft arms around his neck, she kissed him. I love you. I love you. I love you.

“As I ever love you,” he murmured through fangs that just appeared. Oooooooh. This is going to be a very fun night indeed! “My pretty wife.” He then glanced at the table. “One taco left.”

Taco.

She huffed, “Oh fuck it,” and reached for it, causing her husband to burst out laughing.

Silly bastard didn’t stop laughing until it was gone, but by then he had his mouth doing other things.

Like having his dessert.

[duskwightdancer]

Day 3: Tempest

Rated M | Shadowbringers Spoilers | Exarch POV | Unnamed wol | CW: implied torture and injuries

The Exarch is taken to the Tempest to await the Warrior of Darkness's arrival.

“You don’t deserve to see this place,” the Ascian spat, but the Exarch didn't reply. Being so far from the Tower had already weakened him, he had to do everything he could to retain his strength. The Towers's magicks had slowed his bleeding, but every breath was an effort and he knew that the gunshot wound would not be the last of his scars from this day.

So instead of replying, he looked out at his surroundings, a small act of defiance. From the seat at the table he was sat at – magically bound to, really, as he could not move his limbs – ge could see out of the floor to ceiling windows at their surroundings. The massive buildings stretched up towards the heavens with their curling spires and massive towers. The Crystal Tower was magnificent and imposing, but this place… it was completely different and beautiful in its own way.

“Where are we?” he coughed out, against his better judgment. So much for preserving his strength.

The Ascian just huffed, spinning back around to look at him – truly a mistake on the Exarch's part to draw attention to himself, but his thirst for knowledge couldn't be stopped.

“Wouldn't you just love to know, Exarch – or what was it that your dear Warrior of Darkness had called you? G'raha Tia, was it?” he asked, strolling back towards the chair that the Exarch was tied to.

The Exarch narrowed his eyes and raised his chin, not deigning a response. He knew Emet-Selch had already seen every one of his weaknesses, but he would not give him the satisfaction of making them obvious. Though, he could not lie that hearing that name – the name of a man that he didn't know if he could still call himself, that he didn't think the Warrior would even remember.

The Ascian said something under his breath that G'raha couldn't catch, but Emet-Selch strolled closer to him and used a single, gloved finger to lift his chin higher.

“How does it feel that you doomed him? That you will be the reason that he dies once again because you let him absorb all that light?” he asked, now gripping the Exarch's chin tightly – too tightly.

The Exarch just kept his lips sealed shut, glaring directly back into his smirking face.

“Would you like to watch him what you did to him? He'll be here soon enough, to come to the depths of the Tempest to be far, far away from all of your people and his dear friends while he turns into a monster. Perhaps maybe then he'll turn on you and you'll get your death wish after all. It'll be long and drawn out and excruciating. I'm sure the Warrior would hate it, the little part of his consciousness left would be thrashing about in his mind, trapped to simply watch as he pulled you limb from lim-”

Spit mixed with blood landed perfectly on the Ascian's coat and the Exarch knew that he'd made everything worse on himself, but he didn't regret it for even a moment. The visual of the Warrior – the sweet, kind, soft-spoken Warrior of Darkness – doing something that would wreck him was too much. He wouldn't let the Ascian put that visual in his head.

The hand on his chin gripped tighter, but Emet-Selch didn't speak a word and he snapped his free hand and vanished the mess from his coat.

“I had considered playing nice, Exarch, and having your worst punishment be simply witnessing that you couldn't save him, but now… We're going to have fun while we wait for him,” he hissed just before snapping his fingers once more.

The Exarch didn't even have time to blink before he was screaming out in pain, unable to stop himself while the Ascian just smirked at him.

[the-sycophant]

FFXIV Write 2024 - Prompt 01 - Steer

Words | 682 ——————–

“Faster!”

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

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

“Watch out! It’s a bear!!”

“I see it.”

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

Somewhat.

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

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

“Oh, but what reach it has!”

“Calyx!!”

“It’s gonna get ya!”

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

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

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

“Now-”

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

“Yes.”

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

“I know.”

“I wanna go again, Cal! I wanna-”

“Brother.” 

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

She was held.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

One of many lies.