#press F for urianger

[asleepinawell]

From here, we press onward to the Isle of Ken. I myself shall proceed on foot.

[elizabethrobertajones]

Okay I'm officially feeling guilty that Urianger ended up not making the cut in the serious EW best moments poll... because he is my fave:

[thelaughtercafe]

Warm Goodbyes

Tea Type: Sweet Tea (Self-indulgent fluff because I finished Shadowbringers and needed an emotional release. Not very specific but I’d say be at the end or past the expansion before reading if you really want to go in fully blind <3)

Potential Triggers: None for this fic, except maybe magical tickling, if that bothers you!

Pairing: Thancred/F!Reader(I read them romantic but it can be platonic). Estinien/Reader is also mentioned, although he's not present. There's a lot of the main characters Ler'ing, with Reader and Ryne as Lee's, with Ryne being totally platonic.

Length: 3.5k+

Summary: In which Ryne and the Warrior bond, shenanigans ensue and fun is had to make their last day together as a family as memorable as possible.

A/N:… I also like cat boys okay? Sue me. I guess Thancred and Estinien just weren’t enough for my heart to attach to.

“Did I ever tell you how the others arrived in the First?”

Your voice was quiet as you and Ryne looked over the Crystarium, the peace of the long sought night making it all the easier to hear you. You both sat on the top of Graha Tia’s favorite lookout, taking in the view. 

Ryne shook her head. 

“Not from you, no. I’ve heard bits and pieces from the others. Something about getting headaches, hearing the Exarch call for you all and eventually collapsing one after another, right?”

You looked over and nodded, smiling slightly. 

“Yes, just so. I know all of us leaving tomorrow is frightening. Thancred most of all. It is not the same, but I thought you should know I do somewhat understand how you feel.”

You turned to look out at the stars, heart stirring in pain as Ryne looked at you curiously, expression gentle. 

“You know by now how close Thancred and I are. He is, and always will be my rock. I know I can count on him for anything. So when he suddenly collapsed, the fear and panic that gripped me like a vice-”

You shook your head as your voice cracked. This is why you didn’t talk about it. You always got over-emotional. 

“A-After Thancred, the others began to fall too and I could do nothing but watch. Urianger, Y'shtola, Alphinaud…eventually it was only Alisaie and I, and then she too fell into a coma. Yet still I had to keep pressing on. There was a war on the horizon, and as the voice continued calling my resolve was weakening. I finally fell unconscious right at the feet of my greatest enemy, who was prepared to strike me down.”

You shot a smile her way at the worry on her face. 

“You needn’t worry. Luckily, my other rock, Estinien Wyrmblood is his name, witnessed my fall and wisely spirited me away from the battlefield. He’s a stoic, quiet man, but he cares. I suppose him and Thancred share that trait. Hiding their feelings I mean.”

You placed your arm around Ryne and sighed. 

“…All this to say? The pain you feel in your heart. The worry if everything will turn out alright. If we’ll be okay. If you’ll be okay. They’re all valid and every one of us loves you so much. We’re just as torn up as you are, I assure you. Everyone is trying to be strong for each other, despite the pain we feel and-”

You sniffled, offering her a watery smile. 

“I…was never good at that. Despite what I’d have my enemies think, I’m extremely prone to emotion. A complete and utter crybaby. It’s okay if you are too.”

With that, the girl finally broke, hurling herself into your arms and you both sobbed. You hugged her tightly as she gasped into your neck. 

“I’m so scared! You’re the only family I’ve known and now I have to find a new one-I-I want you to stay! Or to go with you! I don’t want to be alone again!!”

“Oh Ryne…" 

You did your best to gather yourself, feeling your heart break. 

"Gods I’m going to miss you so damn much. We all are. I’ll be back to visit I swear it. I’ll tell you all the stupid antics we get up to! Alisaie and Alphinaud’s banter, how many times I can make fun of Thancred’s age before he strangles me, Y'shtola’s good-natured savagery, Urinager’s ramblings…all of it, I promise. What I wouldn’t give to take you with us. I’ll keep looking for a way. I swear it.”

Ryne pulled back with a final sniffle and a bittersweet smile. 

“I know you will. You’ve always been so good. So empathetic. Take care of Thancred and the others and make sure they rest enough.”

She looked behind your shoulder after your nod and gasped and you sighed, having an inkling on who it was. 

“It’d be 0, by the way, in case that wasn’t clear. Not that I need a particular reason to mess with you. You’re losing your edge if I was able to sneak up on you like that.”

Just like that you rubbed your eyes and snarked. 

“You’d have to catch me first.”

A smirk graced your lips as you stretched your arms up to crack your back, relishing in the way Ryne was smiling at your side. That’s what you liked to see.

“Good luck with that in your old-aha hehehey!! Not hehehere!”

You squealed as Thancred struck before you could finish, attacking your vulnerable underarms and making you careen forward and try to protect yourself, only to trap his hands. He continued unabated, wiggling his fingers mercilessly as he taunted you, crouching down at your side as Ryne succumbed to giggles at your plight. 

“Oh? Why? Scared Ryne will see how hopelessly ticklish you are? Or mayhap it’s the Exarch you’re worried about given this is his favorite spot. He has that portal in the tower you know…I bet he could see you at any time.”

Your face flamed and you weakly tried to kick him away, finally raising your arms slightly in a desperate attempt to fight back, only for him to change targets and go for your stomach instead, gently pulling you towards him and holding you against him between his legs so he could restrain you easier. 

“No of course nhahahat!!”

You didn’t need to see him to know he was smiling. 

“You’re still a terrible liar to those you love, you know.”

“T-Trhihicked you once, didn’t I smartass?”

He froze, merely holding you still and you panted, looking to Ryne who was now also catching her breath, a huge grin on her face. 

“Did you just curse ?”

She finally got out, breathless from her own laughter with mirth glittering in her irises. 

You winced. 

“Sorry I didn’t-”

“No need to apologize! I’m just surprised that’s what made you finally curse in front of me is all." 

Her smile grew mischievous. 

"Though I suppose I can’t blame you with your ticklishness.”

You smirked at that jerking in Thancred’s hold as if to go for her and making her jump back.

“Keep making fun and I’ll see just how ticklish you are.”

“Don’t even think about it!”

“Oh? Why not?”

“I…um… oh! Because I’ll go right to the Exarch!”

She giggled and you groaned and tossed your head back against Thancred’s chest to glare at him half-heartedly. 

“… You’re her father. Are you really sure you’re okay with this type of churlish behavior?”

He snickered, quirking an eyebrow down at you.  

“Well, if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be fine with you cursing in front of her either so pick your poison.”

 You rolled your eyes fondly but after a look at Ryne you smirked. 

“…What if I say I’m fine with that?”

Thancred seemed mildly surprised you weren’t putting up a fight until he glanced at her too and warmth filled his eyes. 

Ryne was shuffling her feet, a near giddy expression on her face as she held hope in her eyes. She enjoyed it just as you did and given you’d all be parting ways on the morrow the least she deserved was laughter in the safety of her family. She seemed ready for a chase too so you mumbled to Thancred.

“You can get me again later. Let’s team up.”

He nodded and the moment Ryne saw his arms loosen she was off like a shot, carefree laughter leaving her in waves. 

“You’ll never catch me alive!”

“Wanna bet?”

You called after her but Thancred and you both gave her a head start to briefly talk strategy.  Thancred opted to guard the Crystarium, so she couldn’t get to G'raha Tia without going through him and you would pursue her the usual way. You didn’t account for her to run to the others for aid. 

By the time you caught up she was giggling and out of breath, hiding behind Urianger and pleading with Alphinaud with the best case of puppy eyes you’d ever witnessed.

“Ryne, c'mon bringing in outside parties isn’t fair!!”

She stuck her tongue out at you.  

“You did it first with Thancred! I’m just evening the playing field!”

“Is this true?”

The look in Urianger’s eyes could only be called amusement and you blushed, sheepishly rubbing the back of your neck. You couldn’t very well explain your plan with her right there. So you went the childish route. 

“She asked for it by making fun of me!”

Urinager raised an eyebrow at that and Alphinaud snickered under his breath. 

“That’s not exactly new. Besides, you like it any-”

“Finish that statement Alphie and I swear…”

You fired back without thinking but instantly regretted it as he stepped forward and drew his book threateningly, Refia standing on his shoulder.

“You’re quite certain you want to talk back right now? Shall it be Cure or Lustrate then?”

He raised his hand and you leaped back, seeing Ryne dash off towards the Crystarium and praying Thancred would be quick. 

You risked a glance at a confused Urianger, looking between both of you.  

“Forgive me my ignorance, but you aren’t injured, correct?”

You shook your head and opened your mouth to respond but Alphinaud beat you to it, a playful grin on his face.

“Ah I understand your confusion, Urinager. No, she isn’t.  However through accidental means we discovered casting healing magic on her when she no longer has the need of it…well. It tickles quite ceaselessly for a fair bit. The effects are somewhat lost thanks to my healing kit not being the most effective in comparison to Astrologians or White Mages.”

His eyes glittered with just a touch of sadism as he offered. 

“…Care to see for yourself?”

You saw Urianger pondering it and just as you turned to finally get the Hell out of there you heard him speak. 

“Mayhap to satiate my curiosity, then. Benefic .”

You tensed up entirely, shoulders shaking as you tried to hold back and just keep moving but your poor body wasn’t having it as you just…crouched to the ground and covered your mouth as the two leisurely strolled over. 

“A-Aha-Alphinaud so help me when this sphehell f-finishes-eep-i swear to Hydaelyn-”

Said boy smiled smugly down at you, crouching to your level to pat you on the head. 

“Oh come now. Just hush and ride it out, won’t you? Keep taunting me and maybe next I’ll have Urinager cast a Regen- aren’t you curious how long it’d linger given it’s long lasting nature?”

As you desperately shook your head he offered a light laugh as Urianger joined you both to observe you curiously. 

“Mayhap I’ll cast another single target heal then hm?" 

"How absolutely fascinating.”

Urinager’s voice stopped you from saying something stupid and getting yourself tormented further but it also made you all the more aware of the sensations wracking your body. 

Healing aether typically was a cool, numbing sensation as it sought out your wounds before knitting the flesh back together. With no wounds, the healing aether searched for places to heal, growing more vehement as time passed. It was icy and the shock of the cold made the tickling worse as it finally nailed the sweet spot of your ears. You finally broke, giggles and laughs leaving you as you blushed in embarrassment, hugging yourself tightly despite your arms offering 0 protection against magic. The aether wiggled and writhed making you cover your ears and whine. 

“This isn’t fhahahair!! Ahahaha!! H-How am I suphohohosed to fight h-h-hehehealing magic I can’t shehehee! U-Urinager plhehehease!”

You tried to mimic Ryne’s puppy dog eyes from earlier and he mercifully snapped out of talking to himself about possibilities and theories to pull the aether back. You panted lightly and he couldn’t hold back his curiosity.

“May I inquire as to if mine heal was indeed more mirth inducing?”

You glared at him before it broke into a smile at his innocent curiosity, nodding tiredly. Still a researcher at heart.

“Mmhmm. Alphinaud’s felt…less cold too which helped. Yours was like ice. No avoiding a sensation that demanding. And it was more exploratory. Alphinaud’s lingered in one area unless he directed it whereas yours seemed to naturally seek out injury.”

He nodded, still clearly wonderstruck. 

“I’ll have to experiment more later, if that’s alright with you? Such a reaction is unheard of to even one so experienced as I.”

You blushed but nodded nonetheless. He was still somewhat new to allowing himself to tickle you, so he needed the reassurance you liked it and didn’t mind more than the others. A bit embarrassing as you saw Alphinaud snickered at you but he knew anyway so it was no big deal by now. 

“A-Anyway! Thancred and I are actually trying to cheer up Ryne. She looked eager to experience it so we teamed up to get her together. Any chance you could help?”

Urianger shook his head. 

“Regrettably I have already pledged my services to young Ryne and I cannot go back on my word.”

You glanced at Alphinaud and he too, shook his head. 

“As if! Find Alisaie and Y'shtola to even the playing field if you wish but this is a war . Lus -”

You cut off the spell quickly as you scrambled away and to your feet after tossing powder in his face. A mild irritant but you prayed it would work.

“Ah, Silencing Powder. A typical choice for strategy, but I see thou hast forgotten I am the larger threat.”

Urianger cut off your escape to smile down at you and you cursed inwardly. 

“Th-Thancred’s likely already caught her by now! He was guarding the Crystarium!”

You blurted out. Would he kill you later? Maybe. Was it worth it to both give yourself a fighting chance and also maybe see him be wrecked for once? Absolutely. 

Urianger relented at that. 

“Very well. ‘Tis only fair. Thou would do well to stay out of sight however. We shall not be so merciful should we meet again before the war concludes.”

You smiled nervously as Alphinaud grumbled silently at you behind Urinager and they both left. 

Now, the question was to seek out Alisaie and Y'shtola or Ryne and Thancred. 

A voice interrupted your pondering

“Are you quite alright my friend? You seem awfully out of breath.”

G'raha’s voice was both reassuring and panic inducing.  If he was here that meant Thancred was guarding nothing! You whirled to face the red haired Miqo'te and pasted on a smile. 

“J-Just fine, don’t worry! I was just getting a workout in." 

Half-truths were the only way for you to not be as obvious when lying to those you cared about and luckily G'raha seemed to buy it.

"Ah I see, how nice! I was actually planning to do a spot of training myself aft-”

He was cut off by a familiar voice.

“Exarch, there you are!”

Ryne’s voice was a cheerful chirp even with Thancred hot on her heels. He seemed slower than usual and seeing the tremble of his gait and lips told you why. Seemed either Alphinaud or Urianger had tried their magic method on him too.

G'raha, bless his heart, cocked his head to the side in innocent curiosity. 

“Oh? You need me for something Ryne?”

You opened your mouth to intervene but found abruptly you couldn’t move, let alone speak. Damn it all-Alphinaud slung an arm around your shoulder as Stop kicked in fully. Payback for your trick earlier, no doubt. Brat. 

You could do nothing but watch as Ryne reached G'raha Tia and grinned at you before beaming up at him innocently. 

“It’s nothing major, well, everyone else knows already so I figured I’d let you know she’s ti-mmph-!”

Thancred’s own affliction had worn off much to your relief, letting him cover Ryne’s mouth and smirk down at her, and as Alphinaud released you and attempted to ready another spell you tackled him to the ground and pinned him. Thank goodness Stop wore off much faster than Slow. Urianger finally rejoined, looking out of breath but he hung back and watched the scene unfold in amusement.

“Don’t even think about it!”

G'raha, for his part, merely looked between both of your pairs in bewilderment. 

“…Are you hiding something from me?”

His voice and body language were sad as he looked at you expectantly. 

“I know I’m new to the group but I suppose I thought you trusted me just as you do the others.”

Your eyes widened with panic. 

“G-G'raha it’s nothing like that. This is…a playful affair. Nothing more.”

“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better. Ryne said everyone else already knew.”

He looked positively distraught, ears flat against his head and you let Alphinaud up with a sigh, already blushing in anticipation. But how could you not confess with G'raha looking so sad?

Thancred saw your reddening face and he too released Ryne, speaking up on your behalf. If he waited for you to work up the courage you’d never get the words out. 

“She likes being tickled. That’s all. We all tease her about and with it quite often.”

G'raha blinked and then gave a knowing, if fond smile. 

“Oh is that all? And here I thought it was something serious. My apologies.”

“You say that as if you already know.”

You mumbled in shock. 

G'raha turned and a rare smirk made his eyes narrow in amusement. 

“Mm. What of it? You asked me shortly after we met.”

You all stiffened at that, but Thancred most of all. 

“Asked? Me?! I don’t remember that at all and trust me when I say I would.”

He had the good sense to look sheepish as he rubbed the back of his neck. 

“There’s quite a good reason for that. You see at the camp you accidentally had tea containing catrinus…”

“Oh Twelve strike me…”

You buried your face in your hands. Not catrinus. No wonder you didn’t remember. It made Miqo'te quite affectionate and helped them lose their inhibitions. And you had a very low tolerance to it, just like alcohol. 

But G'raha wasn’t finished, especially seeing as the other 4 were looking at him so expectantly. 

“Catrinus affects us Miqo'tes much like alcohol, but most say it’s more potent as a general rule. She had drank the whole cup, not realizing just how much was within and so I was taking care of her, after getting her an inn room. As I made to leave, she clung to me and nuzzled my arm before asking if I would please tickle her.”

He shrugged attempting to play it off but he was as red as his hair. 

“I…indulged her and then I left her to her slumber, tuckered out from my ministrations.”

There was quiet for several long moments and then Thancred and Ryne both burst out laughing and Alphinaud winced on your behalf between snickers of his own. Urianger merely looked at you with fondness in his gaze, though the humor in his eyes said it all.

“Oh my…Estinien…is going to kill you. He thought he was the first to make you ask directly. To hear you have done so willingly…i don’t envy you.”

Thancred came over to pull you into a comforting embrace, allowing you to hide your face in his chest, still snickering 

“He’ll likely want to do another duel for who can make you laugh the quickest for the longest, with all 3 of us this time, you know.”

“An intriguing proposition. Given she enjoys it I see no reason to refuse.”

G'raha was collected as ever and you peeked out to find him smiling fondly at you, making you hide again. 

“…You’re all mean. Estinien will never hear of this. Do you understand me? Never .” 

Between snickers all present mercifully agreed and you pulled back, now somewhat collected to smile sweetly, arm held behind your back with your free hand. 

“Now that that’s taken care of I do believe I have some revenge to deliver. Care to help me carry it out now that everyone’s got their mess with me points for the day?”

You turned to smile mischievously up at Thancred who grinned back and wasted no time cutting off his daughter’s exit strategy as she ended up backing right into him where he quickly but gently pinned her arms behind her back. 

“You’ve caused quite a lot of mischief today Ryne..ready to experience some yourself?”

She was already giggling as you began poking along her sides and tummy playfully, making the girl curl in on herself. You glanced over your shoulder and motioned for Alphinaud and Urianger to join in. 

“I’m quite certain there’s plenty of unexplored spots if you wish to map them out with me in earnest~”

“This isn’t fhahahir!!” 

Ryne’s laughter was light and bubbly and made your chest warm with affection.

“Oh? But messing with me is fair game? That’s not how it works!”

The rest of the day was filled with every iota of warmth and love you could cram into it and the goodbye, while full of sorrow was also hopeful. This wouldn’t be goodbye, not if you had anything to say about it.

[hibiscus-tome]

wolcred week 2023, day 2: memory

“Did you know my memory is completely wrecked?”

Ranni lays the question there at their shared table in the Waking Sands’ library, amidst the last lit candle flickering between them and Urianger’s soft snoring from over by the bookshelf. She steals a piece of fruit from Thancred’s plate, if only for the welcome distraction.

It’s not like she’s… talked about this before at length with anyone, after it had first become obvious that there were numerous holes and frayed edges where parts of her memory should be — but it has to be obvious at this point, that there are entire histories she can no longer speak to, even if no one will utter it aloud. Recognition in Urianger’s eyes the day she first came to the Scions’ base of operations, Minfilia’s all too thorough explanations of Sharlayan and its various research groups despite all the evidence that Ranni had spent more than enough of her life in one of them, Alphinaud’s thinly veiled attempts at blackmail when she threatened to walk away after the Waking Sands had been raided — that no one had challenged her on it is nothing short of a miracle.

(In a long, long journey to Ul’dah, Ranni boards the caravan. Hums noncommittally when the merchant speaks to her of jewels and riches and adventure, as if she’s some tourist and hasn’t been living in Thanalan for the better part of…

… wait, how long has she been here, exactly? Long enough that walking through the gates doesn’t feel entirely new. Long enough that though she doesn’t recognize the innkeeper yet, even when the innkeeper clearly recognizes her, the inn itself feels familiar. There’s bottles attached to a belt sitting at her hips, and herbs tucked away in a satchel strapped to her thigh, and none of it means anything, yet it clearly must have at some point for her to carry it on her person.

The Lalafellan innkeeper waves her hand before Ranni’s face, her easy, suddenly familiar smile melting away into something far more concerned as she says—)

“Really? And you’re all right?”

One would think that one with proven success charming the pants off of more of Ul’dah than most of its residents can achieve in their lifetime, he’d have a better quip at the ready. Ranni barks out a laugh. “Oh, please,” she retorts. “You had to know something.”

“I suspected a questionable past and potentially blackmail,” says Thancred. “Both of which are entirely within expectations for someone who’s spent the better part of a decade in Thanalan.”

“Oh, there’s plenty of that too, if what I’ve pieced together is accurate,” Ranni retorts.

It’s just that she’s not sure. It’s a hypothesis, one that will likely hold up now that she has the time to properly test it; where it becomes complicated is how much of her pre-existing knowledge of it hinges on speculation.

(There is a theory as to how this all started, all but confirmed now that it’s all over: an encounter with a Hyuran woman taller than an Elezen, dressed in black robes that Ranni would later come to associate with Ascians, with long, curling, wisping hair like a storm cloud. She’d stood in the middle of the desert, gazing up at the stars.

Ranni had only meant to ask if she was all right — but the woman instead tilted her head to the side, her gaze cold and calculating. “So you’re the familiar,” she said. “Well, no matter. You’ve long fulfilled your purpose, little lizard.”

She pressed her ice-cold fingers to Ranni’s temple, and then something in Ranni’s head pulled — a thread yanked loose, unfurling as the woman continued to pull it free. Memory after memory tumbled loose — in Thavnair, an orphanage by the water; kind Arkasodara caretakers promising that a lack of parents did not mean a lack of love.

—in Sharlayan, a swirling gate, Voidsent clawing her fellow researchers apart, years of work falling to pieces as she poured everything she had into pushing those Voidsent back and sealing the gate they emerged from; the weight of disapproval from the Forum, from her mother, from as many teachers and mentors and professors as she could count, when there had been no one else left to blame for it but Ranni; a difference in blood never so stark as it had been the day her mother turned away and never looked her in the eye again.

—in Thanalan, guilds and merchants and adventurers, always working, always bartering, because rent was going up but pay was not, evenings spent at the Quicksand with a lute because just music was hardly enough to pay the bills, but it was still enough extra to scrape by for another month.

When the woman stopped, it was clear that something had happened that she did not anticipate. She staggered back, shock and disgust warring in her expression.

“You…” she gasped. “What are you?”)

“Have you told anyone else?” asks Thancred.

“Just Momodi,” Ranni answers, shaking her head. “It… never seemed entirely relevant before?“

Thancred presses his lips tightly together, bowing his head slightly, and she can’t help but wonder if she’s said the wrong thing. Minfilia had said, more than once, that the Scions were a family; it’s hardly her fault that it’s the same line touted by too many unscrupulous merchants to count.

—and, well, Ranni’s no idiot. There are gaps and holes and frayed edges where parts of her memory should be, but she’d recognized the Archon marks, the day she’d met Thancred by that great tree outside Ul’dah’s gates. It’s been a long time since she last set foot in Sharlayan, but she remembers that much — remembers what it means, for so many people sporting those marks to be congregated in one place together, working towards a common goal.

“W-Well!” she interjects, far too awkwardly. “Ascian treachery sure has a way of building trust amongst those on the receiving end, doesn’t it?”

It doesn’t quite hit its mark — but something softens in Thancred’s gaze. “Even if it’s not relevant,” he says, carefully, “I’m glad you told me, all the same.”

Ranni blinks at him once, twice — and then heat floods quickly into her face. She ducks her head, and steals one more piece of fruit from his plate — then another — then another.

With a wistful smile, he pushes the plate towards her.

[lovehotelreservation]

Thrust System - G’raha Tia is Now Accompanying You [3/6]

Summary: While delving into the depths of a dungeon, you wanted to be sure that your companions were people that you could trust and who would have your back.

In this case, they’d also have your ass too.

Rating: R

Pairing: Thancred/G’raha/F!Reader/Urianger/Estinien

[Previous Chapter]

[Next Chapter]

crawls in

endwalker huh _(：3 」∠ )_

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“Were it not for the Forum so concerned with maintaining the pristine ivories of their garments, surely you would have been picked clean by now.”

A bit of mirth, a bit of bite.

Finger pressed to his chin, G’raha mused this to himself as he continued to peer around the grand library he had found solace in. Each step took him by soaring high bookshelves that made the Cabinet of Curiosity look like a child’s dollhouse, large blue crystals dangling from above by silver chains that cast the entire space in cool, wintery blue light.

Since eluding his pursuants, he thought it was wise to take this blessed moment of respite to prepare his next course of action.

To complete the mission of finding a path to the moon from the Lunar Palace was important, yes.

But most of all, he wanted to reunite with you and make certain of your well-being.

The thought of being able to wrap his arms around you upon reunion came to mind, of which made his ears wiggle and his cheeks bloom ever so slightly with blushing warmth.

Ever was the duality G’raha found himself stuck within--to laud your prowess as a living legend and revere the might of his beloved hero, or to gladly stick his neck out on your behalf to make sure that not even a lock of hair was askew on you, his cherished inspiration.

His crimson irises softened in fond sentimentality.

To be seen as your admirer and your friend, or to be blessed with the opportunity to have a special place in your heart that none other can take.

Such was his personal dilemma.

However, he would not have much to worry about, given the astonished call of his name that had his ears perk and his heart rejoice.

Upon snapping his head towards the direction of the sound, he immediately gasped to see none other than you, a stack of books in your hands.

Unable to hold himself back, he rushed forward in an eager sprint, his arms unable to resist from pulling you into his arms for a tight embrace with the elated sigh of your name, despite the books that soon fell to the floor in response. “You’re here! You’re well!”

But he couldn’t even be flustered from his actions, not when you reciprocated his hug with a squeeze around his form and blissful sigh out your lips. “And my relief that you are fine, G’raha.”

While heat surged to his cheeks all the more–with some even trailing down south within his body–, a prideful smile formed on his lips as he leaned back with a confident hum, gesturing to himself with the point of his thumb, “If I am to keep up with you, I ought to not let anything as slight as a mere mob of devoted zealots get in my way.”

The giggle you let out only furthered his spreading warmth. “You’ve done plenty already--you should be proud.”

“O-Of course, certainly!” He stammered with a nod, hoping that the jubilant quiver of his tail was not too apparent to your perception.

It was then that his eyes gazed down to the floor, catching sight of the books that you initially had in hand before they were dropped. His voice taking on a curious inflection, he inquired, “I assume that this isn’t light reading that you’ve been getting up to?”

You shook your head with a laugh. “Not quite. Earlier, I was able to locate the throne room but I couldn’t make my way inside.” Your expression soon changed from amused to rather exasperated upon recollection. “There was some weird lock mechanism that I couldn’t figure out. And with those worshippers on my trail, I took off and ended up here.” Gesturing to the rest of the library’s grand, massive hall, you continued, “And if there’s any place that would help find a way inside, it’d be here, no?”

“A thoughtful deduction, my dear hero,” G’raha hummed with a smile and a wink. “If breezing through text is what you’re up to, allow me to have the answer for you immediately.”

Your hands clasped together joyfully. “I’d be delighted--let’s go!”

With joy bursting in his heart and his lips immediately pursing shut to refrain from blurting out anything embarrassingly earnest and heartfelt, he joined your side as the two of you set off on your textual deepdive, first starting with the stack of books that you initially retrieved.

By his boundless knowledge, it wasn’t too difficult to read through the archaic text, piecing together information from the pages gleaned to help navigate onwards to the tome that would bring the two of you closer into the throne room.

There were inscriptions regarding special gems that were thought to be tears shed by Menphina either during lonesome nights of longing, or in the heated midst of being pleasurably overwhelmed by a collection of her lovers all at once.

While he admittedly had to take moments to set a book down so he could step aside and fan himself down from some of the detailed accounts of the goddess’s many intimate encounters, the truth was right within grasp.

He could feel it.

Much like he could feel your fingers brushing along his as you suddenly had him inspecting another stack of books that you brought over. Without paying too much thought to your gentle urging for him to check for information elsewhere right as he was about to hit a breakthrough, he obliged.

And it wasn’t to say that G’raha was some easily flustered virginal man who could be set off by the faintest of touches from a crush.

Rather, he was a man who became easily flustered by the faintest touch of someone who was both his hero and the keeper of his heart.

Your fingers feathering over his, your palm pressing against his chest as you excused yourself past him, your body heat emanating so close by as you watched him scan through another tome handed.

And for as flustered as he was, he could have sworn he saw the cheekiest of grins during each contact between you both.

Surely, you had to be aware of what you were doing to him, right?

Things only came to a head when at last, he found the book that he finally narrowed down to have information regarding those damned mechanics.

“At last! This is the book that will absolve our woes, surely?” G’raha cheered triumphantly upon completing his read. While he was still feeling the flustering effects of the time spent with you thus far, the joy of doing his part offered some needed relief as he then handed the tome over for you to glean over, having saved the page for a diagram that demonstrated the Lunar Palace’s throne room’s door.

Your hand reached forward to retrieve the book.

Your eyes cast down to the floor.

Your mouth curled in a wicked smile.

“Indeed it is. Good boy, G’raha.”

G’raha immediately froze in place.

“‘Good...boy?’”

Your lips then brushed against his cheek, your fingers toying with his shawl before barely brushing along his shirt as you giggled deviously, “Is there something wrong with being good?”

His unshakeable will shuddered.

And it was then that he suddenly reached out towards you, hoisting your body close and right up against his as his lips fell by your ear in a mix of a restrained hiss and a desperate gasp,

“I admit I am more prone to a fluster but in the end, I am still a man–a man with quite a tolerance but a tolerance nonetheless.”

As embarrassed as he would have felt in another context, his arms wrapped around your form, caging you tightly against him to ensure you could feel the outline of his growing erection.

Rather than be astonished by his bold display, you smiled coyly instead, proceeding to kiss the corner of his lips while your hips rutted against his clothed cock ever so gently, teasingly. “My apologies, G’raha--let’s say we make amends. There’s a resting room on the other side of the library, you know~”

And with that, with a swiftness and suddenness that seemed beyond your capabilities, you broke free from his embrace as you took off with a giggle, making sure to cast him one last wink before you shifted your focus onwards.

Logic and pause had no place in G’raha’s overstimulated state.

The sight of your backside and your purred promise was much too tempting for him to think anything even close to reasonable. Instead of wondering how this all was much too convenient, his desire for you was much too immediate.

As he jetted off after you in pursuit, the gem on his wrist shone brightly.

And in return, your actual form shuddered as you felt the gem by your ankle tighten its hold, your body feeling even hotter while you remained captive within the throne room.

Truly, this was not looking too well.

And by the way the cards were being dealt to you and your friends by fate, matters were only going to spiral further as you barely noticed a lithe and elegant familiar figure make his way to the outdoor gardens.

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

WAHHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH EVERYONE FOR YOUR PATIENCE AND FOR READING THIS PIECE!!! ; v ; IT MEANT A LOT TO SEE SO MUCH EXCITEMENT FOR THIS CHAPTER AND THIS PIECE AS A WHOLE!!! ♡♡♡♡♡ I APPRECIATE IT VERY MUCH AND I HOPE THAT THE NEXT CHAPTER CAN BE RELEASED BEFORE 7.0 OR SUMTHIN OML

[winterstorm032802]

Random Things Part 7

Alisaie: We should head back in

Nora: Yeah we should *breaks off the oars from the boat forcefully and smiles* "Oar!"

Alisaie: Did you just break the f**king boat..?

~

Alphinaud: What do you usually do when I am gone?

Nora: *tearfully* Wait for you to come back...

~

Alphinaud: Nora when is the last time you slept?

Nora: ...That is disclosed information that I am not allowed to reveal, have a good day

Alphinaud: Nora what in the Hells?

~

Alphinaud: Go to sleep!

Nora: I take power naps... It's called blinking

~

Alisaie: Tell me, where is Y'Shtola?

Nora: *points to Y'Shtola* Right there

Alisaie: Where is Urianger?

Nora: *looks at Urianger* There

Alisaie: Where is Alphinaud?

Nora: *smiles and closes her eyes as she puts her hand over her heart* Right here!

Alphinaud: *blushing*

~

Nora: Did it hurt when you fell-

Alphinaud: From heaven? Wow, I didn’t think you were such a flirt-

Nora: No, I meant when you fell down the stairs

Alphinaud: ...

Nora: You just laid there for 15 minutes

~

Nora: Are you ready to commit?

Alphinaud: Like, a crime or a relationship?

~

Nora: Shouldn't get stressed out, it's not good for the baby.

Alphinaud: What baby?

Nora: *crying a bit* Me

~

Alphinaud: That sounds like a terrible plan.

Nora: Oh, we've had worse

~

Alphinaud: I’m sad.

Nora: Don’t be sad, because sad backwards is das.

Nora: And das not good

~

Nora: *sharpens knife* We've got ways of making people talk.

Alphinaud: *cuts piece of cake*

Alisaie: ...Can I have some?

Nora: Cake is for talkers

~

Nora, texting Alphinaud: *sends a voice message*

Alphinaud, texting back: I’m a little busy, is it urgent?

Nora: No, don’t worry, just listen later.

*later*

Alphinaud: *presses play*

Nora's voice message: THERE’S A FIRE-

~

Alphinaud: Are you a cuddler?

Nora: I'm a machine of death and destruction.

Alphinaud:

Nora: ...Yeah, I'm a cuddler.

~

Alisaie: Alphinaud, gather the others. We need to have another Nora-is-doing-something-stupid-again-and-we-have-to-stop-her-before-she-hurts-someone convention.

~

Alisaie: I’ve done a lot of dumb stuff.

Y'Shtola: I witnessed the dumb stuff.

Thancred: I recorded the dumb stuff.

Nora: I joined you in the dumb stuff.

Alphinaud: I TRIED TO STOP YOU FROM DOING THE DUMB STUFF!

~

Alphinaud: So don't panic but one of us is possessed by an owl....

Y'Shtola: ....

Thancred: .....

Alisaie: ......

Nora: ..Who?

Alphinaud: That's the thing we don't-

*Everyone stares at Nora*

~

Alphinaud: Poison is a magic transmutation potion that turns people into corpses.

Alisaie: This knife is actually a magic wand.

Y'Shtola: Meet me in The Bismarck's pier for a wizard duel.

Nora: *cocks gun* Magic missile.

Thancred: What the Hells is wrong with you people

~

Alisaie: If you took a shot for every time you made a bad decision, how drunk would you be?

Alphinaud: Maybe a bit tipsy?

Y'Shtola: Drunk

Thancred: Wasted

Nora: Dead

~

Nora: Look guys, I need help.

Thancred: Love help?

Alphinaud: Financial help?

Alisaie: Emotional help?

Y'Shtola: Help moving a body?

*Everybody looks at Y'Shtola*

Y'Shtola: What?

~

Thancred: Time for plan G.

Alisaie: Don’t you mean plan B?

Thancred: No, we tried plan B a long time ago. I had to skip over plan C due to technical difficulties.

Alphinaud: What about plan D?

Thancred: Plan D was that desperate disguise attempt half an hour ago.

Y'Shtola: What about plan E?

Thancred: I’m hoping not to use it. Nora dies in plan E.

Nora: I like plan E.

~

Thancred: If you put 'violently' in front of anything to describe your action, it becomes funnier.

Thancred: Violently practices.

Tataru: Violently studies.

Alphinaud: Violently sleeps.

Alisaie: Violently shoots pictures.

Krile: Violently boxes.

Nora: Violently murders people.

Alphinaud: Violently worries about the previous statement.

~

Thancred: Damn, the power went out.

Tataru: Don’t worry, I got this.

Tataru: *stomps foot*

Thancred: What-?

Tataru: *Sketchers light up*

~

Urianger: Bottling up thy negative emotions is bad for health, so I'd advise that you shouldn't do it.

Nora: I know, that's why I bottle up all my emotions, both positive and negative, so it cancels out.

Urianger: Thoust has misunderstood me clearly

~

*Everyone is playing a board game together*

Alisaie: I will put 'A' down to make 'A'.

Thancred: I will add onto your 'A' to make 'AT'.

Nora: I will add onto your 'AT' to make 'RAT'.

Alphinaud: I will add onto your 'RAT' to make 'BIOSTRATAGRAPHIC'.

Nora: *flips the board*

~

G'raha Tia: For self defense reasons, I'm going to pretend to be a burglar and you guys have to act wisely.

Alphinaud, Nora, & Alisaie: Okay.

G'raha Tia: If you don't want to die, give me all your money.

Alphinaud: Bold of you to assume I have money.

Nora: Bold of you to assume I don't want to die.

Alisaie: Bold of you to assume I can die.

~

G'raha Tia: Isn’t a bit dangerous?

Alisaie: G'raha, please. We’ve in a lot of unexpected predicaments before and we always escape unhurt.

G'raha Tia: ...

Alisaie: Okay, we sometimes escape unhurt.

G'raha Tia: ...

Alisaie: Alright, we escaped unhurt once... Then we hurt ourselves in the way home.

~

Nora: Alphinaud, what does IDK, ILY, and TTYL mean?

Alphinaud: I don’t know, I love you, talk to you later.

Nora: Alright, I love you too, I'll ask Krile.

Alphinaud: Wait- Nora, no-

~

Thancred: When I was young, I left a trail of broken hearts like a rockstar. I'm not proud of it.

Nora: You're kind of proud of it. You work it into a lot of conversations.

[warwaged-moved]

Rests his arms on Alisaie... for a second too long... // don't kill him pls

PRESS F IN THE CHAT FOR URIANGER @riddlemancer

Though the elezen were often noted by their stature, the younger ones yet had to suffer years before the famed growth spurt would make them as tall as their older counterparts; and, as one of the Studium’s younger students ever alongside her twin, Alisaie was all too familiar with people having the impulse to make fun of her still diminutive height.

Anyone who tried learned very fast that was a mistake.

Sheer surprise at the audacity is what keeps her from immediately removing his arm -- but as it lingers atop her head, Alisaie takes it upon herself to angrily push it away, certainly with more force than necessary. Then again, it is a betrayal most vile that the act comes from Urianger; and a mistake he of all people should know better than to do.

“ URIANGER -- ” Yelled rather than spoken, her tone continues to be both loud and angry as she speaks, a displeased frown upon her face. “ Just what do you think you’re doing?! ” 

Having to look up doesn’t make the stare she directs at him less vicious ( he would do well to heed her next words, because the warning is only afforded due to the long-standing bond between them ). “ You have three seconds -- ”

[kunstpause-archive]

36 for Cassia and F for you from the unusual asks please ♥

Ah, thank you! I love talking about Cassia so strap in! ❤ From this ask list

36: Do they actively seek romance, or do they wait for it to fall into their lap?

Cassia never really looked for love - it always kinda snuck up on her or overwhelmed her. Mainly bc every time she falls for someone, it’s at a time where she technically has more pressing problems.

In Da2 she is just trying to survive in Lowtown, and then she has this one night stand and she kinda likes the guy and only realizes a couple of weeks later that she slept with the new knight-captain. But at that point, she already caught some feelings and it's messy and a bad idea but CAssia is never really deterred by bad ideas.

The Crime AU is pretty much in that vein - she gets invested before she realizes the scope of things.

In the coffee shop AU she doesn’t realize potential feelings until she gets them shoved into her face.

In FFXIV she falls in love several times - and each time it's accidental. Haurchefant is overwhelming bc it’s the first time in her life, after spending most of her adult life working in a brothel, that she has feelings for someone. And when he dies she is so heartbroken, that she is convinced that this was it for her.

And then she and Urianger live together, and they are best friends, he is there for her when she is a single mother, and changing that would be a really bad idea so when they, after a while, fall into a friends with benefits routine they both rationalize the shit out of it. Until at some point they can’t anymore.

And Emet-Selch... she doesn’t remember that they did this dance before in another life and is convinced, at the start, that she is only being friendly to him to get information and a possible advantage - which bites her in the ass in no time of course...

And F -  What do you feel when you think of your OC (pride, excitement, frustration, etc)?

With all of them, I am mostly really proud of how they turned out over time. There are some I wanna develop more. I have a lot of plans for Althea, by Zenos-romancing angry bun, and I am getting more and more invested in Kara, my drow warlock that I created for BG3. I’ve spent by far the most time on Cassia, 3 massive DA longfics, several smaller DA aus, several au headcanons, a complete ffxiv version that is still grounded in her Dragon Age origins and there might be more one day even bc I love her to pieces as a character and I love putting her into new environments and see how it changes or amplifies things.

[raelly-writing]

Prompt 15: Ache - FFXIV Write 2020

I feel like these prompts are me just tossing out random skill headcanons that have nothing really to do with the prompts themselves. :’D

Takes place during post-5.0.

Ache: to have or suffer a continuous, dull pain.

-

Where the blazes was it? Viana looked through her maintenance kit then the table, under it and around her room, but the cleaning rod for her gunblade was nowhere to be found.

Gritting her teeth she turned around in her room, as if her sheer annoyance would somehow summon the missing tool to her hand. Perhaps she’d forgotten it in Thancred’s room.

With rapid steps she left her room and made it towards Thancred’s. Her thoughts were running quickly through the things that she needed done, the tasks that waited to be completed and people who had requested a word with her about one matter or another.

So much to do, always so much. “Thancred?” The rap of her knuckles against his door sounded loud in the stillness of the Pendants in the evening. There was no immediate response. Viana shifted her weight from foot to foot while absentmindedly rolling her shoulders to try and alleviate the tensions in them.

Had he gone somewhere? Maybe out with Ryne to eat? A prickle of irrational impatience bristled in her chest. She was just about to leave again, to toss her entire room upside down in search for her missing tool, when the door opened.

Thancred gave her an apologetic smile. “Hey, sorry, I was just about to step into the shower when you knocked,” he said.

Viana managed a faint smile of her own. “Sorry, I’ll be quick, did I forget a cleaning rod here at some point? I can’t find it in my maintenance kit or anywhere in my room, and I have looked everywhere I can think of but I’m sure I had it the last time I cleaned my gunblade and I need to clean it before I head out tomorrow but it’s that small one for the cylinder so I can’t do it properly without it and-”

“Viana, slow down,” Thancred interrupted her. His eyes had gone wide and his hand was on her arm. She blinked owlishly at him as her frazzled thoughts screeched to a halt. “I haven’t seen it, but come in and we can look.”

Nodding, she followed him inside, her eyes instantly glued to the floor in search of the small tool. It felt like everything would come crashing down around her ears if she didn’t find that stupid little tool in an instant.

“Can you remember when you had it last?” Thancred asked as he surveyed the table in his room.

“I’m… not sure,” she muttered. “I cleaned my gunblade before heading out to hunt Phronesis with Alisaie and Cerigg.” Crouching, she looked beneath a shelf, in case it’d accidentally gotten kicked beneath it. “Must have had it after that.”

Nothing. Frustration tugged at her, rolled unpleasantly in her stomach, and she quickly stood up again. Suddenly, a harsh jolt of pain shot down her spine. Wincing, she hissed out her breath through clenched teeth, “Seven hells.”.

“What’s wrong?”

There was a sharp edge of concern to his voice. A few quick footsteps and then she felt his hand on her lower back. She was grinding her teeth, pain still rolling up and down her spine and neck.

“Viana, have you injured something while away? Do I need to call for Urianger or Y’shtola?”

“No it’s f-”

“Don’t tell me it’s fine when your shoulders look like they’re tenser than the standoff between two pixies over the last piece of candy.”

She huffed out a strained laugh but finally felt herself give up. “I’m… my back has felt sore all day,” she murmured and, after a moment of hesitation, dared to open her eyes to look at him.

Thancred was frowning with concern. “Alright, you have been running from place to place for days now,” he said firmly. “You’re taking tomorrow to rest.”

She tensed again, a million things running through her mind at once. “But I need to- the cleaning rod-”

He raised his eyebrows. “You weren’t planning on leaving until tomorrow. Surely whatever you are off to do, is something that can wait one more day?”

Slowly, the truth to his words worked its way through her stressed mind. Exhaling slowly, a crooked smile curled the corner of her mouth. “Am I really being told by you to take a break?”

“I guess I learned to take a break while here,” he huffed out. Then his expression softened and he swept his hand up her back in a careful but firm caress. “If your tool doesn’t turn up, you can borrow mine to clean your blade, and ask the Means craftsmen to whip up a new one for you tomorrow. Good?”

Left without the will to argue against what she knew was the reasonable thing to do, she nodded.

“Great, then if you would oblige, my dear; take off your shirt and lie down on the bed so I can fix your back.”

Viana blinked at him. “You what?”

He chuckled warmly and led her towards the bed. “I picked up some things in Ul’dah over the years I spent there. Trust me on this.”

She let him nudge her down to sit down onto the edge, after which he quickly helped her undo her boots and tug them off. Her muscles ached and strained as she struggled to pull her shirt over her head, but finally she was free of it. Thancred took it from her hands, and motioned for her to remain put. “I’ll just fetch something before you lie down,” he said quietly.

Viana nodded silently. It felt like her mind had gone from racing and buzzing with thoughts, to fuzzy and slow. Seven hells, all of a sudden she just felt tired. Sighing, she tried to relax her shoulders and back. She probably needed to learn to take a break every now and again.

“You alright there?”

Making a quiet noise of acknowledgement, she cracked open her eyes - when had she even closed them to begin with? - to see Thancred spread out a towel over the bed.

When he was done, he leaned down and caught her lips in a tender kiss. “Alright if I take off your bra too?”

“Nothing you haven’t seen before,” she murmured in response.

There was suddenly a charming tilt to his expression as his eyelids drooped a little, contemplating her. “I suppose so.” Smiling quietly in response, she tilted her head up, meeting him in another innocent kiss as his fingers trailed up her back. With a tug, the sturdy cloth loosened around her chest, and she tugged it off.  “There, lie down, my dear.”

Carefully, she did as he asked, all while wincing at the dull aches and sharp little twinges in her back that she no longer could ignore.

The mattress dipped as Thancred climbed in after her. His hand was firm against her bare skin as he leaned down to press a kiss to her shoulder. “Let me know if something hurts.”

“Mhm, always,” she mumbled. She heard the faint sound of something getting uncorked.

“Just relax,” Thancred said softly. When next he touched her, his hands were slick with some warm, oily substance. Pressing down on either side of her spine, he slid his hands up her back, his motions measured and unhurried. Before she had a chance to stop it, a low groan wound its way up through her throat at the pleasant sensation. A faintly herbal scent filled the air - sweet and relaxing, not thick enough to make her nose itch.

She half expected him to comment on the sound she’d made, but he just silently kept going, rubbing the oil into her skin as he worked out the tensions from her sore muscles. There was a definitive confidence to his touches, his fingers trailing over her skin to press into and knead spots she didn't even know needed to be relaxed.

It didn’t take long before she felt herself relax into the mattress, the flowery scent of the oil mixing with the scent of him that clung to the sheets into one familiar, relaxing smell. Soon enough, her mind drifted into a warm, hazy state as all the things she had been stressed about just melted away. The frantic beat of her heart slowed to a more normal tempo, while her stomach no longer twisted and turned on itself.

As short a time as they’d been together, it felt… nice, to let herself be taken care of like this. It was still new for her to just trust and let go, a small, private part of her still used to just shouldering her burdens and carrying on despite the weight. No, Thancred felt safe - like she could share that small hidden away part of her with him.

Another pleased sigh fell from her lips as he kneaded her shoulders, thumbs gently, carefully pressing against the back of her neck. A comfortable warmth spread through her limbs, his touch coaxing quiet sighs from her, one after another. The rest of this world may as well have not existed beyond the walls of his room anymore.

“You feeling alright?” Thancred’s low voice sounded in her ear.

“Mmm, very,” Viana mumbled, her voice slightly muffled by the mattress.

“Good,” he hummed, satisfaction evident in his low tone. She felt the curve of his smile when he pressed a kiss behind her ear, and half expected him to call it done now that she was lying loose and relaxed against the bed. But his hands were still smoothing over her skin, thumbs pressing into her muscles. That same patience that he usually displayed during their lovemaking seemed to manifest itself here too. Her thoughts felt slow and sluggish, in a good, relaxed way, as she just enjoyed his hands sliding over her skin.

Time seemed to stretch and blur into something insubstantial. It could have been minutes or it could have been hours before she felt him slow his motions until he was just soothingly caressing her waist.

“Viana, darling?”

Viana made a quiet noise to show that she listened.

“How about I go and draw up a hot bath for you?”

That sounded like a splendid idea. She stirred a little, unwilling to open her eyes just yet. “Will you join me?” she murmured.

“I’d love to, if you want me to,” his low voice rumbled in response as he nuzzled the back of her neck with his nose.

“Of course I do, Thancred.” She had no wish to part from him just yet, and relaxing with him in a hot bath sounded way too tempting to pass up.

 “Stay here then, take a little nap if you wish to.” His hands squeezed her waist reassuringly as she felt him climb off the bed. “I’ll come get you when it’s ready.”

“Okay,” she murmured. The fabric of the large towel settled over her back, and she listened to his quiet footsteps as he walked away. The rush of water soon drifted through the stillness of his room, along with the muted sounds of him rummaging about in the cabinets.

She must indeed have drifted off to sleep, because before she knew it he was gently shaking her shoulder. Cracking her eyes open, she blinked owlishly at Thancred, who smiled gently.

“Sorry to wake you, but it’s done,” he spoke softly.

Nodding, Viana inhaled deeply and gingerly pushed herself up from the bed. To her relief, no twinges or aches remained in her back. Smiling, she pressed a kiss to his lips.

“Thank you, love,” she whispered.

“Anytime, my dear,” he replied and took her hand to lead her to his bathroom. To her surprise, the room was only lit by a few candles. Discarding their clothes into a pile on the floor, they settled into the hot water, Thancred pulling her to rest with her back against his chest. A relaxed, drowsy feeling still lingered over her mind as she watched the flames of one candle flicker and dance while they quietly spoke of things that did not pertain to work or urgent tasks.

[starcunning]

Praxis inordinata

Happy Friday! Today I will be speedrunning the Eighth Umbral Calamity*. Stay tuned for part two.

*Eighth Umbral Calamity not guaranteed but strongly indicated.

[M/F] [WOL* (Kallisti)/Nabriales][The plot actually arrived? There’s no porn in this; there’s just plot.][Blood CW][Mild gore][Just a spectacularly bad idea all around][*technically Lensha Hathaar is the WOL; Kallie is one of her Echo-blessed companions][ARR 2.56][Erebidae][3.4k words]

Riol was a cheater. It had taken her some time to notice, but he won too often. The stakes were low enough that she had to assume it was merely ingrained habit—he had no obvious tells, which only cemented this perception. Kallisti resolved to mention it to Moenbryda only if it continued to agitate her—there was no sense in risking her tearing her stitches over what was meant to be a friendly game.

It had been a poor distraction up until that revelation; even afterward part of Kallisti seethed with resentment that her presence had not been requested at the Sultana’s banquet. Lensha Ravenfeller was a more palatable morsel, and had looked so in her gown of ivory when she had left with the others on wings of aether.

Kallisti thought of Ul’dah and she was there, in the Fragrant Chamber, though the scent of spice and the sound of gentle music she had anticipated were absent. The place was an abattoir, stinking of blood, and she heard steel strike steel and screams of fright. She felt the fear welling in her own throat, the terrible surety that the Sultana was dead and the Bull’s retribution was merciless—one of his fellow members of the Syndicate had paid a blood price for his grief already. Her gaze fixed at last upon the Highlander and she saw, impossibly, that his foe was Ilberd Feare.

The realization jerked Kallisti out of her Echo-blessed vision. She had fallen from her perch to land on the stone floor, and gazed up at Moenbryda’s ceiling. A figure loomed over her—Daye, she recalled after a moment—but rather than offer her a hand up, he pointed his spear at her throat.

Kallisti lifted her head to glance around the room. In the instant before the butt of his lance struck her forehead, knocking her skull against the stone, she noted the presence of two other Crystal Braves. One was doing his best to menace Moenbryda, though she had a yalm of height on him and a hellacious tongue undulled by her injuries. The other was patting Riol down for weapons; a half-dozen blades already dropped to the stones.

Kallisti closed her eyes, bitter annoyance prickling at the nape of her neck. Some help that vision was, to have left her in this position. “I know you’re awake,” said Laurentius Daye. She had seen the way Lensha’s eyelids twitched when she was in the throes of the Echo, and briefly tried to imitate it while also casting her aether back toward its anchor point, thereby to escape. Heat seared her shoulder, bright and blooming, and she smelled blood again, real this time; hers; his lance had pierced her shoulder, disrupting her focus on both tasks. She gasped. “Don’t try that again,” Laurentius cautioned.

She was going to die on the floor of Moenbryda’s bedroom, which was not at all what she had imagined for her ending. Oh, she’d imagined this locale once or twice, but the circumstances were vastly different. Kallisti tried not to panic. She had a great deal of practice wrangling her fear of death, but usually she at least had her staff. “Well?” said a voice. “Go and retrieve it, then.” “Nabriales,” she said, eyes snapping open. At the same time, Moenbryda said, “What is he doing here?”

Nabriales turned to face the scholar. Laurentius brought his spear up. Almost casually, Nabriales swiped his claws over the lancer’s throat. Crimson stained his blue uniform, beaded on the black leather of the Ascian’s robes, and spattered upon the stone floor. A moment later, Laurentius fell, too, dropping his weapon to clutch at his neck.

In the fracas, Riol had slipped a knife from his boot and pinned his Braves minder in the corner of the room. Nabriales pulled Kallisti to her feet and toward the door. She yelped at the tug on her injured shoulder, then planted her feet. “Them too,” she demanded. “Really?” the Ascian groused, and the shadows of the room seemed to coalesce into sprites of pitch, the umbral energy sparking from them quickly subduing the Crystal Braves. Moenbryda did not move from her perch. “I said, what is he doing here?” she repeated. “Saving your miserable lives,” he drawled. “Who are you talking to?” Riol asked. “Don’t worry about it,” Kallisti insisted. “An Ascian,” Moenbryda said anyway. “A what?” “Don’t worry about it!” Kallie said, still more forcefully. She clasped a hand to her shoulder, trying to staunch the bleeding.

Nabriales flicked a claw, and his shadow sprites darted out in front of the group, floating down the hall like ball lightning in negative. “I do hope you have a plan, Kallisti,” he muttered. “To the armory first,” she declared, “and we fight our way out.” “I will hold them here,” he said, and she could feel the aether gathering around him even as the Crystal Braves at the end of the hall turned to charge. Kallisti turned away, sprinting ahead, the other Scions running after. Riol hustled to the fore, ducking into the next stairway and clearing the first landings before waving Kallisti and Moenbryda after him.

“Do I want to know?” Moenbryda asked. “I don’t think I could explain it if you did,” Kallisti admitted. “Are you that intent on dissecting a gift?” “Yes. How did he know to come here?” “Put it down to opportunism if you like,” she hedged. “Something’s going on in Ul’dah,” Kallisti continued. “That’s what I saw.” “You think it’s related?” “Raubahn and Ilberd were swordfighting, so I have to assume—” Riol hushed them both, stepping out into the hall. Kallie heard the sounds of feet scuffling on the floor and peered out of the doorway to find the Hyur with his arm wrapped around the neck of another Crystal Brave. The other man made a series of choking, gurgling sounds that were only half-muffled by Riol’s fingers. He dragged the limp body into the stairwell and stripped the blue jacket from his compatriot, shrugging into it. “If the Braves are trying to hold the Rising Stones,” he said, “my best bet is to pass among them. I’m willing to bet this has to do with Wilred’s disappearance …” “What?” Riol looked at her, brow twisted in pained confusion. “Wilred,” he said. “One of ours. The best of us. You didn’t hear?” “I was off dealing with the Isle of Val,” Kallisti said. Riol shook his head, ushering the pair out into the hallway, pretending to hustle them before him. Kallisti didn’t bother to meet the gaze of any of the Braves they passed. She could feel the blood trickling down her arm, droplets falling from her fingertips, spattering on the stone. Her trail of crimson wound from the dormitories to the armory, and as they ducked inside, Kallisti took a deep breath. She repented of it as her shoulders rose, coughing it back out in a sigh a moment later.

She found her staff, and took it in her bloodied hands, feeling her aether flow into it, into once-living bone and wood as though it were her own body. It was a strange sensation—and a new one, having come to her only since Sharlayan, since she had slipped the moors of her mortal flesh for the briefest moment. Kallisti let out another breath, more measured, and turned back toward Riol and Moenbryda.

“Can you get out of here?” she said. “Even if you can only teleport outside, Slafborn should be able to help—” “It would send me back to Sharlayan!” “And I’d end up back in La Noscea.” Kallisti’s tail lashed behind her. She wanted to shrug, but her shoulder stung. “I’m not actually hearing a negative. If you stay here, you die.” “What makes you so sure?” Moenbryda pressed her. “The Sultana’s dead,” Kallisti said. “Gods, they’re trying to pin it on us,” Riol replied a moment later. “That’s the best I can figure,” she agreed. “So go back west or stay here and hang for a traitor.” “What about you?” Moenbryda asked. “What about the Ascian?” “I’ll deal with him,” Kallisti said. “Why did he save you?” “I don’t know,” she admitted. Oh, she had ideas—hopes, perhaps—but she had expected nothing to come of that little tug on the thread of aether that wound between them across whatever distance she could conceive of. “I’ll deal with him.” Moenbryda put the white auracite prism into her hands. “You’ll need this. And the staff.” “I have the staff,” she said, forcing the white stone into a pouch at her belt, marring it with blood. “Minfilia left it with me when she and Lensha went to Ul’dah.”

“Minfilia,” the Roegadyn woman repeated. “Is she alright?” “I didn’t see her,” Kallie said. “Almost everybody … almost everyone went.” “Urianger stayed behind,” Moenbryda supplied. “I have no idea what’s going on at the Waking Sands,” she said. “Is Arenvald with him?” “I think so,” said Riol. “Start with him,” Kallisti said. “Moenbryda, get out of here.” “But—” “You’re injured,” Riol reminded her. “Go.” “I’ll watch the door,” Kallisti said, adopting a ready stance. She clutched her staff with both hands, trying to ignore the pain radiating from her shoulder. The old wood had grown slick and swollen with her blood, drinking it in. “Riol, you go too.” “No,” he said, posting up beside her. “When she’s gone I’ll go find the others. They have no idea what’s happening here.” “Good luck,” said Moenbryda. Kallisti did not look back, but she felt the void in the aether, the rush of currents to fill the empty space, a moment later.

“Now you,” Kallie said, and Riol slipped back out into the hallway, striding stiffly onward, as though he was simply on patrol. She waited until he was out of sight, and thought of a crimson sigil—an insectoid pyramid. The aether around her rippled again, and she felt warmth and darkness at her shoulder. “Are you ready to go?” Nabriales asked. “Yes, but we’re going the long way,” she said. He scoffed. “Why ever so? I could take you to the Chrysalis now.” “Because Riol will need the distraction,” she said, “and I didn’t come for my weapon so that I could not fight.” “Meddlesome little fool,” he scolded her. “Then abandon me to my follies,” she said, already pushing open the door to the hall. “I will not,” said the Ascian, sounding genuinely affronted.

Kallie sprinted down the hall, rounding to find a party of Crystal Braves flanking the doorway. She laughed as she ran, and they hurried after her. So easy to lead them into a narrower passage, where she could round on them and gout them with flame. Nabriales caught them from behind, muttering in his dark tongue about the coming of the end, and crackling black energy speared down the hallway. They fell and he rose, an unhallowed being, his cloak rippling like dark wings, and then she was off again. Her shoulder ached. She let it drive her.

The pain seared still more brightly as she rounded a corner and was faced with a sword in her face. She brought her staff up to block, catching the weapon on the wootz plating. Steel rung against steel, and she shoved upward before the blade could slide far enough to catch her fingers. She could see stars on the edges of her vision, and channeled her pain into astral flame—not a hungry gout as she had done moments before, but an unassuming ember, notable only for where she called it.

She burned the air from the soldier’s lungs, and he died breathing ashes. Nabriales smiled, stepping over him, and led. To the right, the solar, and he turned that way before she shouted for him to follow, and went left, back toward the antechambers where her fellows often gathered.

She mounted the stairs and saw dozens of cobalt uniforms, turning to regard her sudden advance. She backpedaled, stumbling into Nabriales, who put her behind him. “Run,” she urged him, and dove back into the labyrinthine halls of the Rising Stones. She did not hear his footsteps behind her—but she heard the advance of booted feet a moment later, soldiers of the Crystal Braves in hot pursuit.

The earth trembled underfoot. She staggered, stumbled, went down hard—on her injured shoulder, barely keeping hold of her blood-slick staff. Kallisti scrabbled to her feet, passing her staff into her right hand, clutching it with numb fingers so that she could press her left palm to her oozing wound.

She never thought she could miss Lensha so much.

Kallisti looked back as she ran, and saw Nabriales moving through the rising crowd of soldiers, as unconcerned with them as they were with him. His face was masked in the crimson glow of his sigil, but for all the darkness that seethed from him they were still outnumbered. She ran, dimly aware of how difficult it was to climb stairs.

Her hands were cold, so it was ice next, freezing in place the soldiers in blue she saw awaiting her up ahead. The hall stretched onward, no other set of stairs that she could see, so she shouldered open the last door on the left, because she could lean on it with her good side.

It was a dormitory—disused and dusty. Its window overlooked Revenant’s Toll. She was several stories up. “Jump,” Nabriales said, his voice at her ear. She glanced back at him. He was bowed over her, a hand outstretched behind him, as though he could—without even looking—cover the doorway. He reached past her, throwing open the sash of the window. “What?” “Either you jump or we fight our way back out, the way we came, and there are still more of them on the way.” “I’ll die.” “Do you think I would allow that now?” he asked, sounding genuinely annoyed by the possibility. She could hear the approach of boots, the raised voices of the Crystal Braves as they cleared each of the rooms in turn.

Kallisti slung her staff over her back, pulled herself up onto the windowsill with a cry of pain, and tried not to look down. The heights were dizzying. Her fingers were blood-sticky against the leaded casings of the window, and a fierce wind moaned through the canyon. She closed her eyes, let go of her perch, and leapt, pushing off with her legs.

It was cold, a night wind rushing over her face, through her hair, tearing away her hat. Then it was warm, and she got the sense that even with her eyes open she could not see through the complete blackness that surrounded her. All sense of gravity failed her. She knew her head from her feet only by orienting herself around her pain—that must be her right shoulder, she told herself, which meant she must know which way her head was facing. She did not breathe, and she was sure she must be dying. She thought of an ocean she had never seen.

Then she thought of the salt marshes of her home, of the sea crashing over the breakwaters and flooding the estuaries. She could smell them, she thought—although perhaps the salt that filled her lungs was merely the scent of her own blood. Then she felt rain upon her cheeks.

Kallisti opened her eyes, and found herself in Nabriales’s arms, her legs dangling freely as he clutched her, chest to chest. “I told you I could float,” he reminded her, and set her down among the sedges. “I had other things on my mind,” she said. She leaned on him, no longer feeling strong enough to stand. “This is Yafaem,” she said after a moment. Even in the dim night, it seemed obvious to her. She knew these trees, the reeds and grasses that tickled at her calves, the scent of peat. “It seemed best to allow you to decide,” Nabriales said. “What is this place?” “It’s home,” she said, sagging with relief. He reached out to catch her by the shoulder, and she hissed in pain. “Careful,” she said. “That still troubles you?” “Of course it does,” she snapped. “It’s a wound.” “Hm,” he said, pulling her in, clamping his hand over her shoulder. She yelped in pain, looking up at his face in agony as though she might find there some reason for this torture.

He was not smiling sadistically, as she could not help but to have imagined. Instead, his mouth was set in a grim line of focus, and she imagined the frown that bent his brow behind the mask. The searing pain of contact ebbed after a moment, and she could feel the blood trickling from her wound reverse direction, flowing upward, back into her body. Her agonized flesh knitted, slowly, pulsing with pain for several minutes. She fought past it to watch as the damage she had done to herself in her desperate flight was mended, leaving no scar, even the skin around the wound free of blood—though it still clung to her fingers. When he lifted his hand, the cloth, too, was mended. It was like nothing had ever happened. “Oh,” she said. Her head swam. “There,” he said. “How fragile your mortal body.” “I still lost a lot of blood,” she said, lifting her hand to regard it. He curled his palm around her own, pressing her fingers to his lips. It stained them crimson, darker than his mask. “Little I can do for that now that we’ve left it in Mor Dhona,” he said, tone sardonic. “I need a place to rest. There’s … I think there’s a cave near here, we would use it when we were hunting in this area …”

She listened to the falling rain—pattering on leaves, splashing into the waters of the marsh. The wind blew through the grasses, and she could hear the call of frogs. “We’re safe,” she said. “No one … no one comes here but my clan, and … they’ll know me. If they find us.” Still it seemed an impossible task to reach the foothills, and she staggered through the mire until they found its mouth. It was cool and dry inside. She fell to her knees immediately, putting her back to the stone walls and sliding down. Nabriales crouched beside her. His hood had gone, sometime since their arrival here. His mask, too. He looked at her. “Are you staying? It isn’t much, but it should be safe. Or are you going … wherever Ascians go?” He shook his head. “There are things that require my attention, but these are eventualities. My window of opportunity has not yet closed.” She hummed out some acquiescence, letting her eyes close. The outer layers of her clothing were damp with rain, but the cloth against her skin was dry, and it seemed too much effort to undress now. It took most of her concentration to focus long enough to ask a single question.

“Why did you know to come for me?” “You asked,” he said. “Nnnn…no, I didn’t, I never said your name until you were already there.” He laughed, the bombastic sound of it filling the cave, redoubled and echoing around them. “Is that how you think this works, little fool?” he mused. “That you can speak my name and summon me, like a bound voidsent?” “When you think about it,” Kallisti said, “I am Mhachi.” “Even the ancient sorcerers of Mhach could not command our kind,” Nabriales said, bristling with pride. “No. You cannot compel me.” “Then why did you come?” “I felt your distress,” he said. She felt aether prickle along the nape of her neck—distantly, as though through a haze of black felt. Kallisti realized then how drawn she was. “I thought you understood this.” “I didn’t realize …” “I could be banished to the most distant star and I would still feel you,” he said. “It was not my intent when I branded you, but in what came afterward …” “In Sharlayan?” she supplied. “We are entangled now,” he said. “A change in your aether is a change in my aether,” he said. “I can sense your soul as though you had laid it bare before me.” “Spooky,” she said. Then, “Isn’t that a weakness?” “Perhaps,” he admitted. “So that’s how you knew,” she said, “but I couldn’t compel you to act. That means … it was your decision.” “Yes,” Nabriales said.

“Isn’t that unusual?” she asked. “Yes.” Then the rising darkness swarmed up around her, and she let it claim her. Her struggle had wearied her. It was so much easier simply to let go.

[asleepinawell]

Urianger pressing F in the group chat

[lovehotelreservation]

Mea Culpa

Summary: To apologize, to beg--simple actions that Emet-Selch simply could not bring himself to do.

But as he emerged in your room after things have soured between you both, he is willing to make amends.

In his own way at least.

Connected to “Late Night Visit”

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: DFAB!Reader/Emet-Selch

ME WORKING ON THIS COMMISSION WHILE FINISHING UP WITH 5.0 🙂🥺😭💔 GDI WHY AM I NOW A GOTHIC GILF F*CKER !!!!

THAT SAID MANY THANKS TO MY SWEET AND LOVELY COMMISSIONER FOR THE CHANCE TO EXPAND ON MY PREVIOUS PIECE!!! --------------

No matter how acclaimed and revered by countless souls across the realm, the Warrior of Light was just that.

A single warrior.

A single individual whose power, strength, and tenacity served to protect the weak and reprimand the wicked.

But from your eyes, you couldn’t have accomplished so much without the help of your friends: The Scions, House Fortemps, and countless others. The time you spent with them, whether during the heat of a dire battle or a merry night of feast and camaraderie, was something you held so dearly to your heart.

Still, as much as you enjoyed the company of your friends, it was the still calm of your empty room after a busy day that soothed your weary soul like nothing else.

And as the weariness from journeying back from Yx'Maja to your suite in The Pendants, more than ever were you relieved to be alone.

Especially for reasons that you were much too annoyed to begin recounting.

Sighing, you were in the midst of undoing your armor, but the fatigue from today made even attempting to undo the binding components an even bigger drain.

“Need some help?”

You froze.

And then your teeth grit from irritation as your eyes shifted away from the mirror of your suite’s vanity upon turning around.

The reason for your weariness was standing right in front of you.

Arms folded behind his back, lips curled into a smirk, eyes glinted with amusement, Emet-Selch made his presence known as he emerged out from the shadowy portal that was conjured into your room.

There were plenty of reasons as to why this mere action immediately drew your ire.

From the past week alone, it was already a journey through hell as you traversed through Yx'Maja and fended off sin eaters while providing assistance to the Viis of Fanow with your fellow Scions. However, with the unwelcomingly present Emet-Selch insisting on commenting on every move you made and every word you said with the most smug grin on his face pushed you far beyond your patience.

On the other end, Emet-Selch had just emerged into your room.

As he had done all those many nights before that resulted in the two of you being tangled together upon your bed.

He was your enemy.

And yet you allowed him to linger between your thighs nonetheless.

It was something that you were far from ready to reveal in the slightest to the rest of your companions. Any hint of the ongoing tryst you had with him was to be kept absolutely hushed, which he was well aware of.

But Emet-Selch treaded that boundary all throughout your time at Yx’Maja in front of the rest of the Scions. By your honed reflexes from all the time spent training under Widargelt, you were glad to stop his wandering hand from squeezing your behind while you awaited for Urianger and Y’shtola to finish decrypting some text chiseled on a temple wall, your fingers immediately seizing hold of his wrist while your eyes shot his pouting face an icy glare.

From that moment on, you chose to outright ignore him. Any quip was met with indifferent silence, your expression blank whenever he attempted to draw your attention.

And you were in no mood to change that now of all times as you promptly faced your vanity once again, your focus returning to removing your armor.

“Now, now, is that how you treat a guest who just arrived?” He hummed with the click of his tongue.

You did not respond, only focusing on trying to work on a stubborn tie with your armguards. Though, without needing to look back, you knew his expression had fallen to something of a pout.

“Mmm--onwards with the silent treatment then, I see.”

There was no desire for you to be the bigger person on your end. If cold you must be, then icy you would become.

At least, until you felt the unfortunately familiar warmth of Emet-Selch’s body press against you from behind.

“Pardon.”

The heat of his breath fell by your ear, the sudden sensation eliciting a shiver from your body as you felt his nimble fingers reach for the tie of your armguards, undoing it with absolute ease. As the sound of your armor fell to the floor with a clank, he continued with an amused hum, “The sight of a celebrated hero struggling with a mere strap irritates me to no end.”

Your instinct had your body moving to flip around to face him, but the arm that immediately slunk around your waist kept you in place.

At last, your silence was broken.

“If you think sliding up to me like this is gonna get you off the hook, you’ve got another thing coming!” You hissed as you craned your neck to glare at him while your fists balled at your sides.

“‘Off the hook?’ But whatever did I do wrong?” He hummed innocently, only to then sigh with feigned exasperation. “Do you think us Ascians to be so committed to the role of villain that you think we cannot tease and please at the same time? I don’t ever remember you being this callous, sweet hero.”

Your eyes rolled. “Again with your remembering?”

“Again with your forgetfulness?” He shot back, his tone taking on a surprisingly biting edge as his gaze narrowed ever slightly.

However, noticing your astonished expression, his features calmed, shifting from tension to teasing as he reached for your chin, his thumb stroking over your skin as he inspected your face. “Goodness, you really must be tired from your endeavors, huh, hero?” His head moved closer to yours as he hummed, “All that tension has you so fussy~ Let’s ease those shoulders, huh?”

Without another word, his lips planted right onto yours, kissing you fully while his other arm circled around you, his hold around your body complete.

Your instincts made you want to push back at him, to not allow yourself to concede so easily.

Yet, the expert probe of his tongue into your mouth combined with his roaming hands as he groped you freely to his heart’s content now that the two of you were alone was just so damn hard to resist. 

While the two of you had been plenty intimate up until this point, you barely knew much about him.

And yet, he knew your body like no one else.

When your mouths parted, the tension on your face had eased, your skin hot and flushed, your lips parted in a pant, all as your body continued to quiver from his hands fondling you all over.

Looking as pleased as could be, Emet-Selch chuckled wickedly as he admired your current state, “There we go--such a precious look on your face. Recollection can wait for another time--come hero, show me more of those lovely expressions of yours…!”

That cold expression you had earlier, that damned armor you were so focused on.

He saw to it that neither were in his way as he brought you over to your bed.

With your clothes soon joining his on the floor, your exposed body was for him to enjoy whole-heartedly. His lips dragged along your skin, circling over your nipples with soft suckles, kissing along your battle-toned torso, lavishing your clit with focused attention as his tongue lapped against your center.

The look on your face was far from icy at this point, now melted with pleasure as he continued his ministrations, furthered all the more once he was sheathing the full length of his cock inside of you.

Moments before, he claimed to help you relax, but the pace by which he was pounding away into your core was far from delicate, his hips pummeling you right into the mattress while his hands squeezed your breasts.

Mainly because he knew that an acclaimed warrior like you could take it.

Along with the fact that he had to make up for a week’s worth of lost intimate time between you both.

For as quiet as you had been around him, he dared not to kiss your lips, wanting your moans to leak out freely as he simply minded himself with marking up your neck as much as possible with kisses and bites--whatever would be hardest for you to try to hide or explain around your companions.

He would not have you silent around him.

Not when he still had yet to hear you refer to him by his true name.

Not as the Warrior of Light.

But as his beloved Azem.