#side thoughts I think about how the last time they were at costa del sol together it was all the way back in ARR

[wildstar25]

MiqoMarch Day 16 - Summer

"C'mon Fish it's time for a bath!" *chuckling* "Seems to me you'd best re-think that name of his"

Nothing says "summer" like a trip to Costa del Sol with your partner and companion 🏝️

[themuselesswriter]

Outed Secret Affair

Characters: Kelly Lord, Original Female Character (Liliana), Lord Family

Summary: Kelly joins his family in Spain and introduce his secret wife to them.

Word count: 1000+

Warnings: curses and the casual family dynamic

A/N: this is my formal invitation for you all to start writing about this show and my favorite flamboyant cause like, we’re dry on that:’)

Credits: photos from Pinterest, editing app is picsart

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The arrived at Costa Del Sol, she felt his heartbeat go faster with every move he made closer to the big mansion in which his family resided in for the time being, she knew how terribly they treated him, how they thought of him to be nothing but a screw up, even with everything that he did for the family.

She held his hand "it will be alright love" she said softly as she gave his hand the gentlest squeeze "I don't think I want to return to them, let's just go back to south London while we still can" he replied, looking at her with pleading eyes "Kelly! They are in time of grief, they need you to be by their side, once all is done, we can return to our little love nest in south London" she replied, he took a minute to himself then nodded, leading the way inside, his hand not leaving hers.

"Kelly! My sweet darling" Mint Ma was the first to greet the middle son, followed by the rest of their family members, soon the whole Lord family gathered around him, she smiled, and to think he was terrified of this, he caught up with everyone then walked to her side "everyone, I would like to introduce my... better half, Liliana Lord" you waved a hello, they remained quiet for a moment, taking the information in "your better half? when did that happen?" the blond sibling said, she assumed it was Len, Leonard or something like that "it's... it's been happening for a while" Kelly replied nervously.

"Fucking hell!" his father shouted in disbelief "you mush? You've been sneaking around with this bitch?" his father demanded "dad, please-" Kelly said softly, his gained confidence all seemed to disappear, Gene laughed then walked to his brother, patting his shoulder "good for you!" he said, he was the first to welcome the poor woman and shake her hand "welcome to the family, you'll find us quite odd" he warned, she nodded "oh I've heard stories, I shall be fine" Liliana replied.

Kelly excused himself, taking the poor woman with him and retreated upstairs to find an empty room for them to rest, holding her hand while their luggage was in his free hand "I- I'm sorry about them" he mumbled once the two of them were alone, she smiled and caressed his cheek softly "don't worry about it love, I can handle them as long as you don't let them affect you so badly" she warned, he nodded.

The family had a second bomb dropping on them, Eddy, Cindy's son's arrival with the two of them, they focused more on him than on the stranger woman, which gave her a sense of relief.

Kelly ended up going on a mission with his brother, Gene as soon as he got some rest, she didn't see him for the rest of the day, while Liliana remained with Cindy and Mint Ma, they had about a thousand of questions about you, which was only fair, a strange woman walking into their lives out of the sudden and announces that she is married to one of the boys for a while.

Liliana only saw him again at night when he returned to their temporary love nest, he seemed quite upset, she frowned "what happened?" she asked immediately, she was already in her nightwear, preparing to sleep "let's just go back, right now" he whispered "he- he fucking shushed me in front of people!" his tone became louder "and that twat! He- they don't need me Lil, they think of me as a joke!" he sat on the bed, his voice cracking at the last part.

Liliana stood right in front of him and leaned down "and what do you think of you? Are you a joke?" he looked at her surprised by the question "I-" he opened his mouth to speak, she felt his hesitation so she offered him the best comforting smile there is "no, I don't" he whispered "then I believe you, they don't know you enough to judge you anyways" she assured him, embracing him in a tight hug "I'll show them all" he whispered again "how about you think less of them and more of you? You don't owe them anything, you don't have to show them anything"

He wasn't convinced, she knew from the look on his face "have you eaten anything?" she asked, he shook his head a no, she pulled away and put on her robe "how about... you take off that shirt of yours and relax for a minute while I bring you something to eat? Perhaps throw in some fancy booze to celebrate our first night in Costa Del Sol?" he nodded at her suggestion almost immediately.

She giggled and placed a single kiss on his forehead then walked downstairs, she headed towards the kitchen, Mint Ma was there, enjoying a glass of whiskey and some smoke "is Kelly alright?" she nodded "why wouldn't he be?" Liliana asked, the woman didn't bother looking at the other who was preparing a tray for the two of them "you seem like a sweet lass, I admit that I was shocked when I learned of someone like yourself, settling for someone like my boy" she said, grabbing Liliana's attention "but be careful, my boy... he is a sweetheart but he is not always right in the head" she added, warningly.

"I know, I've seen it all, there's nothing I haven't seen before, nothing that I can't handle, however, thank you for telling me" she said as she held the tray, it had a bottle of champagne, two glasses and leftovers "I hope you are right, I'd hate for something bad to happen to you" Mint Ma added.

Liliana found her words unsettling, she's been with him for years, if he was to hurt her, it would've happened by now "good night Mint Ma" she said before heading upstairs.

Kelly noticed the look on her face, as if she just saw a ghost, he adjusted his sitting position to be more alerted "is everything alright dove?" she nodded "it is nothing" she immediately placed a smile on her face, closing the door behind as she approached him "did someone say something to you?" she nodded "it doesn't matter love, I promise" he wanted to protest but his priorities was her at the moment "I'll make it right, I'll show them-", "don't, show me instead, show me that we can have a fun night together"

[aerithisms]

hi! I just wanted to share my 2 cents about your aerith post and her screen time bc after I finished the game I shared the same sentiment, but after 2 weeks of thinking, rewatching and analysing cut scenes (this game lives rent free in my head now), I realized why they pace her arc the way they did. basically her arc deals with her duty as cetra and coming to terms w/ it. however there wouldn't be any progression if she was already resolved to do it, hence at the beginning of rebirth we have aerith who is happy to start her adventure w/ her new friends (the one she wanted to go w/ her mom as we learn from her trial, so her moment of joy after leaving kalm feels even more deep). but as we continue we can see the mix of inner struggles that resides in her: being last cetra, trying to moving on from zack and dealing w/ dark thoughts about hojo. her Costa del Sol scene suggests that she'll learn how to deal w/ all of that and she believes it'll make her a better person in the future (in some way it has come true bc aerith sacrifices her life and any chance to spend it w/ ppl she loves, and of all things she wanted exactly this). despite that it doesn't cancel her desire to have a normal life and enjoy every moment while she can (in the same Costa del Sol ch. where everyone leaves the beach you can see aerith lingering and watching the sunset as she tries to take it all in for the last time). I think starting from Cosmo canyon her resolve comes into form bc she admits about the loneliness she had to face. At the temple she's willing to learn how to control lifestream (even tho you can see moments when she's upset when it doesn't work out). and at the end she's resolved to fulfill her duty not bc she's a cetra but bc of her friends.

This way you learn to care about her as a person and not just her role as a chosen one. also it's just my personal impression that the devs didn't want her to be a walking sign of death to preserve that feeling of her loss. instead they tease the player the idea of saving her to via marlene, red xiii and partially zack scenes (which feels even more cruel imho).

i can definitely appreciate your perspective!! to clarify i didn't want her to be fully formed in her identity and duty as a cetra at the beginning of the game, and this sort of arc about her learning to explore that side of herself more was in fact exactly what i wanted, i just feel the game doesn't really address it as much as i wish it did. like besides the cosmo canyon fire scene and the last couple chapters there's not a lot there and you're left to infer a little too much imo. i would've liked to see aerith voice her feelings about it to someone more so that we could get inside her head about it. nanaki would've been great since he has a similar connection to the planet/responsibility to uphold the legacy of his people, or tifa since she and aerith confide so much in each other already. or even cloud! that could've brought more attention to their relationship in the narrative so it wasn't so sparse.

i do get that they don't want it to be obvious she'll die for new players but by the same token i sort of feel like if they were that concerned about that they wouldn't have had marlene straight up say sephiroth is gonna kill her. by and large this game's story feels targeted at a primary audience of people who've already played ff7 so i don't know that i feel that's a good enough justification not to explore all the facets of her character in more depth while they could.

that being said i absolutely agree that i love her arc about her connection to the party and how she clearly struggles with but ultimately is able to accept her fate because of how much she loves them and how much they brought to her life. i thought that was really beautiful and heartfelt. and for all my griping i did sob over the ending so it's not like these critiques i have ruined the emotional impact overall!

[maiavonsneeper]

Video Game 2023 recap!

So this year i played heaps of games lol honestly crazy to think about.

Thought I'd do my own wrap up and look back.

I may mention spoilers.

Kirby and the Forgotten Land

Cute! Its my first Kirby game in forever (last game was on the DS) Again its cute, fun, funny and its body horror for kids!

🐀Happy Sneep ^_^

Bayonetta 3

I've watched the previous two games so this was my first time playing a Bayonetta game. I was worried about getting into its combat so I played in casual for most of it. Did play in standard later and it turns out I was doing well lol

The story and ending was..something tbh I expected a lot based on the past two. Still I had fun as a newcomer and I enjoyed the customizing.

🐀 Neutral (confused) Sneep :-1

Yakuza Like a Dragon

Funny to think that I unintentionally played this game and I guess the rest of the series lmao Honestly iconic I loved Ichiban, I loved his friends, the usual RGG side stuff was fun and full of charm and the english dub was really well done. Am glad to have played this especially after I watched Penny Parker play this.

🐀a Happy Sneep about it but was left devastated at the end ಥ_ಥ

Yakuza 0

Loved it, a great way to get into the Kiryu saga, to know what Kiryu's story is (and Maji's) after playing through Ichi. I had quite the reaction to playing a game that can be so violent but also can be very weird and also feature a dress up game.

🐀 Nishiki simping Sneep (unaware of whats to come) (っ❤◡❤)っ

Xenoblade Chronicles 3

Its Xenoblade...it was a rollercoaster of a story to go through. Also very relaxing to play especially after Y0 and B3 lol

Enjoyed coming along with Noah and the gang. Loved Eunie and Taion and I liked seeing refs to 1 and 2.

🐀 Sad Sneep (at the ending) OTL

Legend of Zelda Tears of the Kingdom

I basically put aside everything while playing TotK lmao

It was so fun exploring and seeing newer things added in. This is the only game so far that made me replay the final boss, like I NEEDED to play the final boss again <3 a battle between dragons.

🐀 Speechless Sneep (◡‿◡)

Final Fantasy VII Crisis Core Reunion

I was surprised at how its a linear game and a pretty quick main story. And the missions are there to build more playtime.

the main story i liked, it was nice getting to know Zack and seeing characters from the og 7 in a different perspective.

Teared up at the ending :(

I wish that the story slowed down, so to get to know other characters more esp ones that Zack meets for the first time (Cissnei, Aerith and Cloud) and parts that were just skipped/skimmed through like Costa del Sol vacation time or when Zack inherits the buster sword after getting back to Midgar etc.

I also liked pointing out stuff I can connect to the og 7 :D

🐀Emotional but also being a silly Sneep

Yakuza Kiwami 1

A fun game. The Majima Everywhere system did make it feel like a horror game at first lmao Majima really gave me jumpscares.

The story? .....I'd rather not think about it TwT

🐀 A devastated and also kind of paranoid Sneep :-Σ

Unpacking

Just a relaxing game to play. And it is one of those games I was interested in before cause how I saw it on social media but at the time couldn't play it myself so I'm grateful to play it through the game pass yay.

🐀 Satisfied Sneep (◡0◡) ~3

Yakuza Kiwami 2

I will say I had a lot of fun with K2, such as the cabaret club minigame coming back, taking a lot of selfies (esp in front of dead bodies - Killer Kiryu) and the Majima saga. But unfortunately so far it takes last place out of the RGG games for me.

The main story didn't have a focus on the multiple plots and just revealed all the plot twists at the end.

Ryuji, hes hot but I came to conclude that hes very overhyped. He didn't have that much screen time :/ If it weren't for his popularity and spin-off appearances, I would've forgotten about him.

And I think major of all of why its last place is THAT ending...what. Like really a fake bomb? And did they have to make out?

🐀 ...Confused Sneep ಠ_ಠ

Yakuza 3

This is the gayest game I've ever played.

I honestly feel betrayed I wasn't given a yaoi warning while starting up the game. I hear that 3 is infamous for some stuff and can be quite divided between fans. BUT bro its a game WORTH PLAYING play it for dad Kiryu time, play it for Mine lol JUST PLAY IT.

🐀 Got yaoi devastated and diagnosed with MineDai syndrome Sneep _(╥︣0╥๑ゝ∠)

Frog Detective Trilogy

Simple and hilarious lmao So far I've only played the first of the trilogy. It was cool to play an Aussie game.

🐀 Suddenly anti-books Sneep

Yakuza 4

Gameplay wise it was fun. Really like how interesting it was to play as different people and how they experience Kamurocho in their own lives. Cool change to always playing as Kiryu and from Kiryu's pov. Akiyama and Tanimura were fun to play as especially Tanimura's radio thing which I found interesting. Saejima's section I felt was limited, I think the police guarding everywhere scared me away from doing his substories; so I ended finishing his part earlier compared to everyone :( (luckily I got to do his side stuff at the finale part)

And I realized at the end I struggled with switching and adapting between each character's style. Because of that I very stuffed up at the final bosses and stuffed up so bad that I forgot how to play as Kiryu..

The story is..interesting lol It is definitely soap opera-ish. I actually got into it at the start and the part where Hamazaki spilled the tea but because of the freaking rubber bullets twist I couldn't take it seriously towards the end like I even laughed and was just howling. There were scenes where it was just presented dramatically, like theres one where it zoomed into peoples faces with a sfx which instantly made me think of those Indian soap opera memes lmao

🐀 Indian soap opera edit style Sneep O_o = ☉.☉ = o_0

Yakuza 5

Very recently finished the main story. And honestly I forgot how the story goes lmao its a very long game. The character profile mind map from would've really helped and also summaries like in 0 too (which I'm guessing is an improvement since that came out after 5)

It was fun how each character came with a second game (such as Saejima's Hunting Simulator for the Nintendo Wii and Project Diva)

The enemy encountering is very annoying /: separate enemies being close by each other in the same area ughhhh

🐀 I forgor Sneep....<;(' .' )>

[sea-and-storm]

FFXIV Write 2022 Prompt #15: Row

Cheaters never win, the old adage echoed within Ghoa’s mind.. along with a faint, stinging throb. Too bad the saying hadn’t occurred to her before the unfortunate string of events that had transpired all within the last two or three minutes. Not that she would have listened to it anyway, probably..

A race had been proposed, from the end of the docks at Costa del Sol to a rock upon the nearby sandbar. Of course, the intention of the proposal had been for the racers – Anchor, Shael, Nabi and herself – to take the route across the sand and then swim across in the final leg. But such specifics were never stated and, knowing full well how horrid of a chance she stood in any contest of physical prowess, that clever mind of hers had begun thinking of a way to exploit the loopholes.

Her strategy? As the others raced down the roundabout path across the beach, she would head in the opposite direction back across the dock to the closest jumping point between here and the finish line. It shortened the run and swim both, not that she was overly concerned about the latter. If there was one physical task that Ghoa could claim some skill at, it was swimming.

The run was still plenty long for her.. less than hardy endurance. But so, too, did she have an idea for that.

"You know? I'm feeling so confident that I think I might even give you lot a head start," she hummed as she hung back. "I can start from right here."

"Ya’ up tae somethin,” Shael answered as she fixed her with a rightfully doubtful look. “..but that be yer game."

"I'm just saying," the Mankhad answered innocently as she takes off the sunglasses perched atop her head, stuffing them into the waistband of her swim bottoms for security. "I was raised on the beaches and in the water. It's only fair, you know?"

"Ya sure showed that gurgling salt water that time.” Anchor’s retort saw her gaze narrow as she looked over in his direction.

“That was different,” she huffed defiantly. For one, they weren’t atop a wildly pitching ship tossed to and fro by storm-frenzied waves, but she didn’t press the point. It was doubtful neither he nor Shael would concede that point. Besides, she’d show them just how adept of a swimmer she was when she stood victorious upon that rock, looking down upon them in triumph.

As the others started forward towards the end of the dock where the starting line should have before, Ghoa primed herself to leap into action the moment the moment the word ‘Go!’ left Shael’s lips.

Off she was down the pier like a bolt of lightning, only to hit her first stumbling block early. Her sandal caught on an uneven board of the pier, snapping the thong and sending her pitching forward. Luckily, she was able to catch herself, but the mishap had certainly slowed her. But she would win. She had to win.

Pushing down the frantic burning of her lungs from the effort, Ghoa kept her eyes on the prize. Wait, what even was the prize? Maybe it was that thought that caused her focus to lapse as she reached the pier’s end. Or maybe it was the quick look back that told her she was in the lead as the others just reached wading depth in the shallows, filling her with overconfidence.

Whatever it was, it kept her from committing wholeheartedly to the graceful dive she had planned. Another misstep and the Mankhad found herself suddenly sliding without control across the slippery end of the dock and with a shocked squeal quickly drowned out by a splash, Ghoa bellyflopped into the sea. 

Well.. so much for winning.

Choking and sputtering as she surfaced, the bleary-eyed Xaela’s first instinct was to look around to see who had witnessed her embarrassment. Immediately, her eyes found those of a ferryman but a few fulm away, affixing her with a look that was equal parts concern and amusement with a healthy side of confusion atop it.

“You, er.. okay, miss..?” he managed as he leaned over the boat’s edge, offering a hand to pull her into the dinghy. Thank the gods he at least had the tact not to bust out laughing in her face, or else the Mankhad might have just lowered herself to the sea floor then and let the ocean take her right then.

“P-perfectly fine..” Ghoa managed with not a small dose of sarcasm as she paddled over and reached up to take the hand, using it to pull herself into the boat. Sort of. As if to only add further insult to injury, her foot slipped upon the edge and with another splash, back into the briny depths she went for a second helping of humble pie.

Finally, the Mankhad made it into the rowboat on her second attempt. By then, it was obvious that the ferryman was struggling not to laugh at what he had just witnessed, his cheeks as red from the effort as her entire front side was from the sting of meeting the water face-on. 

Yet he paddled on in merciful silence and Ghoa pulled her sunglasses from her waistband – half amazed that they hadn’t managed to go by the wayside much as he broken sandal – and slipped them onto her nose. As if that would hide her embarrassment once she disembarked..

“Don’t. Say. Anything,” she huffed as she reached the sandbar, still red-tinted and hair bedraggled. 

“The hells happened?” Anchor asked.

At least the others had been so consumed by competition that it would seem none had witnessed it. Only the ferryman and probably half of La Noscea besides once his shift was ended and he was able to recount the unfortunate encounter to much laughter later.

“Oh, um..” Nabi chimed in, tone suspiciously evasive. “Caught a bad wave, yes?”

Well, at least the only one amongst them who had witnessed the spectacular failure was Nabi, too sweet by half to acknowledge it. 

Before she could answer, another coughing and sputtering fit overtook her. As she straightened, her tone was sour. “I hate races,” she huffed unhelpfully. “This was a terrible idea.”

Yet for all their amusement at her expense as they crossed the beach in search of what she sorely hoped was a nearby bar, Ghoa had to admit there was a part of her – deep, deep down below the humiliation – that was thankful for a moment of shared levity. It was rare for the lot of them to steal moments like this together in peace rather than having to band together in the face of a common, dire foe.

But next time they had a moment of respite, Ghoa sure hoped that no one proposed anymore stupid races.

[onwesterlywinds]

PROMPT #1: Cross

Most of their fellow travelers had left Costa del Sol earlier that morning, when the unabating sun had at long last given way to the cooler temperatures of early autumn. Tir didn't mind the faint chill that had picked up, especially once the sea breeze brought in a glimpse of a star-strewn sky later that evening. She sat out with Auhdri on some forgotten beach towels and surveyed the half-dismantled shells of the giant wooden structures adventurers had so nimbly ascended only bells before.

She breathed in deep of the ocean air, held it in her lungs, and sighed it out. Something about this stretch of beach at night reminded her of home, even though she had all too rarely spent time at Lea Monde's seafront, having always preferred to linger instead by the river that was her namesake. If she thought hard enough, she could vaguely recall a cold, stormy shore comprised of dark sand and towers of slate, and a woman who tended to her there. The memory and its strangeness filtered through her senses like something out of a dream - just one more detail she could not be certain had ever actually happened to her.

"Can I tell you a secret?" she whispered to Auhdri, not entirely knowing why she was whispering.

"Of course," Auhdri whispered back.

"Don't tell a soul?"

Auhdri reached up with a finger and traced an X over her chest - and although Tir did not understand the significance of the gesture, she could grasp its solemnity.

"I think I like Eorzean Tir a lot more than Dalmascan Tir."

"But-" Auhdri pouted, staring up at the ribbons of galaxies beginning to bloom in the dusk sky above them. "You're still the same you from who you were. Aren't you?"

She was not so certain anymore, but that fact felt a little too cumbersome to put into her own words. "My baba said once-" She blinked, in spite of herself. She could no longer recall if she had ever mentioned either of her mothers to Auhdri before. "-most of how we think about ourselves depends on where we are and who we're with. That our environment shapes how we act just as much as our choices do." She'd said as much on one of the rare occasions when Tir had asked her why her mama had gone back to the Wood. She only realized after the fact that she had been distant in the days leading up to her departure, and that it had made her baba sad, even if they had both acted normal again once she'd returned.

"I think I know what you mean," said Auhdri. "And I think... I think I like adventurer Auhdri more than villager Auhdri." Then she shuffled around and turned herself over onto her side, the better to gaze up at Tir. "What do you think you'd be doing right now if you were back in Lee Monde?"

Tir didn't correct her friend over the mispronunciation. "I don't know," she admitted. Despite herself, she wasn't sure she wanted to think about it, especially when the first idea that flashed through her mind was of a glinting, bloodied knife. "Though it's probably morning in Dalmasca right now, so... I might be doing my warm-up stretches. Checking my equipment." Checking to make sure the stone was still present, that the brothers had not finally taken it during the night.

But again a strange, hazy memory filtered through - this one of a Viera clad in purple bending over her to pull a fur blanket up to her chin, and to bestow the balm of a kiss upon her forehead. Despite her present uncertainty, despite the comfort of her present company, Tir snuggled a little deeper into her coarse towel.

With a bit of luck and a lot of work, her travels would make her better fit to greet her erstwhile caretaker.

[tiifalockhart]

Learning

Pairing: Sephiroth x Reader

Warnings: alludes to torture and trauma (no direct mention).

Word Count: 3k

A/N: Hi friends, this is the longest thing I’ve written so far on this blog... I hope you enjoy it. I put a lot of time into it, I wanted to portray Sephiroth a different way than I usually see in other fanfictions, hopefully my interpretation is accurate! Feedback is always appreciated <3

Ao3 || Masterlist

It’s a known secret that Sephiroth was fairly... Sheltered because of Hojo in Shinra. As many battles he’s been in and as many places he’s traveled, he still doesn’t seem to understand much outside of fighting and war. It tugged at your heartstrings, the way you’d talk about something with so much passion and excitement, yet Sephiroth wouldn’t necessarily understand what you were talking about and hold that same adorably cute confused face

So, you decided to take this into your own hands. Slowly and surely, your relationship turned into a conquest of teaching Sephiroth about anything and everything. It ranged from simple things such as feeling the sand between his toes on a warm summer day, to achievements like marriage and old age, however old he may be when he’s considered a senior citizen (do enhanced people age normally?). 

It all started one day when you were showing him your favorite snacks. The two of you made it a habit to go grocery shopping weekly, mostly for weekly meals, but you wanted to branch out and let him try other foods. Unfortunately, Sephiroth seemed to really know Shinra’s cafeteria food, lab food, and whatever ungodly meals they prepared for war. You jumped on this opportunity to let him try your favorites, and your least favorites, giving him a wide variety of snacks. You began to check off your list: pocky, pickles, spicy chips, cheez-its, popcorn, trail mix, regular chips, you even bought ingredients to make ants-on-a-log and peanut butter crackers. Hopefully this was enough to give him a wide variety of tastes... 

It hadn’t even occurred to you that it wasn’t a healthy idea until he brought it up. Sephiroth stared down at the grocery cart full of random items stacked on top of your weekly usual, his face holding an unreadable expression. “Have you thought that maybe this is too much?” He asked, looking over at you. God, how was he so cute?

“Well, no. But it’s worth it. If you go into sugar shock, I can always call the hospital and hope that they know what to do with you.” You joked, giggling at his slightly disgruntled expression. 

Once the two of you arrived home, you laid the snacks out on the kitchen table, smiling up at him innocently. “What would you like to try first?” You asked, tilting your head to the side. 

The way he reacted to your question made it seem like he was solving a mathematical problem in his head. He analyzed each snack with his eyes, looking between them all in silence. You began to grow nervous that he might actually be a picky person and you were pressuring him to eat. Eventually, he silently pointed to the box of pocky. “I like chocolate.” He stated simply, which made you smile. 

“Pocky, hm? Have you ever heard of the pocky game?” You asked, a mischievous grin taking over your features. He raised a brow at the mention of it, shaking his head simply. You opened the box and took out one of the chocolate covered sticks, placing it between his lips. “Try it first, see if you like it.” You instructed. 

Hesitantly, Sephiroth took a bite from the biscuit, chewing the small piece for a moment before nodding approvingly. “It... Is good.” He answered, taking more bites until it was gone. 

You grinned and pulled out another stick. “Perfect. Would you like to play the pocky game, then?” You asked sweetly, which he smiled in response and nodded. “Good, good... So basically, it’s a race to finish the pocky. We both start at different ends and take bites until we reach the middle.” You explained innocently. 

Sephiroth raised a brow. “Is this a trap to kiss me? You could just ask-”

“Silence, we’re going to play the game.” You responded, smiling innocently and placing the biscuit between your lips. Sephiroth stared down at your innocent gaze and sighed, trying to hide the smile making its way onto his lips. Giving in, he began to nibble along the opposite side of the stick. Slowly, the two of you got closer and closer to the middle, a sly grin making its way to your lips as a very very slight blush formed on Sephiroth’s cheeks. Eventually, you surrendered the rest of the pocky to him, planting a gentle peck against his lips and pulling away. “Not bad, right?” You asked, a teasing smile on your features as he finished the pocky. 

“...Yes.” He answered awkwardly, which made your heart flutter. “It was good.” He added with a firm nod, as if he were confirming it with himself. After that, the two of you indulged in snacks for the rest of the day, Sephiroth naming which ones he thought were good, and the rest he preferred to stab with Masamune (he wasn’t particularly fond of the spicy chips and pickles). 

After that day, the two of you began to plan small vacations and roadtrips all over the world, your first stop being Costa Del Sol. “There’s nothing like feeling the sun on your skin with the nice sandy breeze of a beach.” You explained with a grin, eagerly pulling him along the sandy path. Sephiroth struggled to walk at first, he was still not used to wear flip-flops. Once the two of you arrived to the beachfront, you ignored his quiet complaints of how hot it was. “The water is probably cool.” You stated, placing your things down in a decent spot. After laying out your towels and removing your cover-ups, you turned to the now shirtless Sephiroth and grabbed the tube of sunscreen. “Someone as pale as you should be lathered in sunscreen.” You stated, squirting quite a bit into your hands. “Turn around and hold up your hair.”

Sephiroth groaned quietly, turning his back to you and pulling his braided hair over his shoulder. “What is... Sunscreen? And how does it work?” He asked, furrowing his brows and shuddering at the cold lotion touching his skin. 

“It’s a lotion, it helps you from not getting sunburned.” You explained, carefully lathering the lotion along his back. 

“What is a sunburn?” He asked, furrowing his brows in confusion. “Is it dangerous?” 

“It can be.” You answered, turning him around and reaching up to carefully place the lotion on his face. “Sunburns happen when you’re out in the sun too long with no protection. You get all red and scaly, and it hurts really bad.” You explained, pinching his cheek and giggling. 

“Oh... Then, should I help you with your sunscreen?” He asked, holding out his hand to help. You raised your brows in surprise. 

“I wasn’t expecting you to offer to help, but I don’t mind.” You responded, snickering and turning around. Sephiroth carefully placed some of the sunscreen in his hands, glaring at the odd texture for a moment, before beginning to rub it against your back. 

“...When do I stop?” He asked, tilting his head to the side as he continued to lather your back and shoulders. 

“Until I’m covered and you think it’s enough.” You shrugged, smiling up at him innocently. He hesitated and nodded, slowly pulling his hands away from your skin. 

Once the two of you were covered, you tossed the sunscreen back in your bag. “What do you want to do now?” You asked, looking up at him and raising a brow. 

“...What do people usually do at the beach?” He asked, his tone sounding slightly confused. “Zack said last time he was here, he had to fight people with an umbrella.” Sephiroth pointed out, staring down at you. He was so adorable, it physically hurt. 

“Nooo, no, people do other things than fight.” You began, looking around. “Here, I’ll give you a few options. We can go in the water, which is probably cool. We can relax on the sand, maybe tan a little. We can also build a sandcastle. There’s also the pier nearby, maybe they have something we can explore.” You explained, crossing your arms.

Sephiroth hesitated, thinking through each of the options, once again analyzing each of them. He looked over at you quietly as if he were searching for help. “What would you like to do?” He asked, furrowing his brows. You swore you could see somewhat of a pout on his face. 

“I’m fine with anything. You choose.” You responded stubbornly, crossing your arms and smiling at his somewhat troubled expression. “There’s no wrong answer, we can do whatever you want.”

He nodded and continued thinking it all through. Finally, he looked over at you. “I would like... To build a sandcastle.” He answered, looking down at the sand below him. You smiled and immediately gathered the buckets and shovels you brought with you.

“Good idea! It’ll be a lot of fun. You’re doing great.” You praised, which made him smile somewhat. The two of you took a seat on the sand and began to dig up a moat, planning out how the castle will look and building a small bridge. Occasionally, one of you would get up and rush to the water, gathering some in a bucket before returning and continuing to build. Eventually, the two of you finished a decently sized sandcastle. You smiled over at Sephiroth proudly. “Not bad for your first time! Wasn’t that fun?” You asked, taking his hand. 

He stared down at the sandcastle and nodded. “I liked that. It was fun.” He responded, looking down at you. “What now?” 

“What do you want to do next? We still have the whole day.” You asked, smiling up at him sweetly. He raised a brow, looking around at the options again before nodding firmly. 

“Let’s go to the pier.” He decided, this time a little more quickly. You smiled proudly and took his hand. 

“Sounds good, maybe they’ll have ice cream.” You pointed out, pulling him along happily. The rest of the day, you watch Sephiroth grow more and more comfortable at the beach, eventually getting in the chilly water. 

Sephiroth ended up learning so much about you, the world and all the activities out there. It was years until the two of you began to even consider settling down with each other. Sephiroth was into the idea, but you were the one who ended up being unsure. You’ve taught Sephiroth about so much, but were you really the one for him? Maybe he wasn’t in love with you, maybe he stayed with you because he kept learning more and more, finally understanding what it felt like to be loved and cared for properly and knowing what happiness. Unfortunately, this feeling didn’t go away for months, even close to a year. Was it better to let go of Sephiroth? Maybe give him the chance to figure it out on his own? Maybe you weren’t the best fit for him, maybe someone else out there is a better fit for him, and he just believes it’s you because of what you’ve taught him.

So, the day before the two of you finalized your purchase of your first house together, you sat him down for a moment to talk it over with him. Sephiroth was confused as to why you seemed... Upset. Everything had been so great, the two of you were starting your life together officially. He couldn’t think of a single reason why you’d be upset. Worry and nervousness began to flood his veins. 

You quietly took a seat across from him, unable to hide the troubled expression on your features. “Seph... You know I love you, right?” You began, which caused him to flinch slightly. 

“I do.” He answered stoically. “Is something wrong?” 

“No... No, nothing’s wrong. Everything’s just right. There’s just... One thing that’s been bothering me lately.” You prefaced, hesitantly reaching out to take his hands. “We’ve been in this together for so long. You’ve learned so much and you’ve grown a lot as a person. I’m... Afraid, that maybe there’s a better option out there than me for you.” You explained, a nervous look on your features. 

Confusion flooded his expression as he stared over at you. “I-” He stopped himself, attempting to figure out what you were talking about. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.” Sephiroth muttered, looking down at his hands. Did he mess up?

You noticed his confused and guilty expression, hesitating. Maybe this was a bad idea. “I-I’m not trying to say anything bad or like... Break up or anything. I just wanted to know if you’re sure that you want to do this. After this, it’ll be hard to go back. I don’t want you to do something because you feel like you’ve been pressured into it.” You explained hurriedly, concern forming on your face. “I care about you so much, I just want you to be sure this is what you want.”

He stared down at you in confusion, slowly shaking his head as he turned to face you. “I still don’t understand. Why do you think I’m here because you’ve pressured me?” He asked, tilting his head to the side. “I haven’t stayed with you because I feel pressured or trap. If anything, I feel the opposite of that. I felt pressured and trapped with those scientists, but with you, I feel free and happy.” He gripped your hands carefully, pressing soft and gentle kisses to your knuckles. 

You stared at him and smiled sadly, slowly wrapping your arms around him carefully. “I’m glad... I want nothing more than for you to be comfortable and happy.” You confessed, a soft sigh leaving your lips. “I just wanted to make sure you felt that you were doing the right thing for you, not for me or anyone else.” 

He nodded lightly and pulled away, cupping your cheeks carefully and pressing a delicate kiss to your lips. “Can we get married now?” Sephiroth asked, a small and faint smile forming on his lips. 

You giggled softly, your cheeks heating up. “Fine, fine. We’ll get married now.” You responded, cupping his cheeks and pressing a kiss to his lips.

Your final lesson for him would have been what it felt like to be loved. When the two of you stood together on your wedding day, holding each other’s hands and gazing into each other’s eyes, Sephiroth was sure that what he felt for you was love. But it wasn’t any regular love, he loved his friends as well, this was unending love. The two of you were completely enthralled with each other, willingly captured in an ever-lasting bond. 

Your life long wish at this point was to always make sure Sephiroth felt loved, even if your ups and downs, in sickness and in health, he’d never feel the way he did in those labs. Instead of fixing his past, you both collectively agreed to move forward and carry on, not allowing it to drag him down. It made you happy to see him in a much better state, he’s grown so much in the years the two of you have been together. You were proud and thankful.

Sephiroth was thankful as well. Not a day went back where he looked in your face and examined your features, each memory of the two of you flashing in his mind. You were perfect to him, everything he could have ever imagined. You gave him a second chance, something he was never sure he would have gotten. 

[grimxswathe]

I come bearing quite belated Moonfire Faire fluff with Estinien and Katsu! Special tanks to Sten and Siren on Twitter for letting me borrow their character briefly and coming up with a pet name, respectively. 

The word count is 1,378 and starts under the cut. Beware of mild spoilers in the first paragraph for the second part of Death Unto Dawn.

I’m gonna tag @snow-covered-moon, since she likes these two. (If anyone wants to be tagged for writing, pls let me know.)

It was the final night of the Moonfire Faire in Costa del Sol. Estinien was relaxing on the water’s edge with Katsu nestled into his side, his arm draped around her waist. The water had become a little chilly for his liking once the sun set, but he wasn’t about to deprive Katsu of this time with him. Ever since the battle against the Telophoroi at Carteneau, things had become quite tumultuous and something had been bothering him as of late. Between the twins now sharing their Ishgardian home and assisting the Scions with the occasional mission, it seemed like Katsu couldn’t make time for him anymore. It was making him worried that she, for some unbeknownst reason, was no longer happy with their relationship. 

Despite the anxiety gnawing at his insides, he couldn’t take his eyes off Katsu. She was so tiny, especially compared to his broad frame, and looked far too delicate to carry the weight of two separate worlds on her shoulders. All the same, Estinien knew full well that looks were deceiving. At the moment however, tucked safely into his side, she looked surprisingly vulnerable. He absently started tracing his calloused fingertips in circles against her hip, causing her to sigh happily and snuggle against him. Estinien’s heart melted at her response and he gave her an affectionate squeeze. Halone be praised, he loved this woman. Which was why he had to voice his concerns forthwith. 

“Something’s been weighing on my mind recently,” he said.

Katsu rested her chin against his chest and gazed up at him. “What is it? Is aught amiss?” 

As soon as he noticed the way she was looking at him, Estinien’s train of thought fizzled away. She was looking at him like he meant infinitely more to her than the sun and moon. She was looking at him like he was worth more to her than those damned plushies she loved so much. Like he was worth it. The sheer amount of love on her face was overwhelming and Estinien felt tears welling up in his eyes. He couldn’t help but wonder if she had been looking at him like this all along and his insecurities had prevented him from noticing.

Katsu’s loving expression turned to one of alarm when she saw the tears rolling down Estinien’s cheeks, but he wrapped her tightly in his arms and held her close to him. He buried his nose into her hair and inhaled deeply, breathing in her scent.

“I’m okay,” he assured her. “It’s just...gods, I love you. So much.”

Estinien felt Katsu freeze in his arms and for good reason. He had only ever uttered those words before when he was reciprocating her sentiments. After allowing a moment for the weight of his words to settle, she acknowledged him in a small voice.

“Can you say it again?”

“As often as you’d like to hear it, my dear,” Estinien breathed. “I love you.” 

“And I love you.”

Even though he’d heard those three little words countless times from Katsu, this time they caused Estinien’s tears to fall harder. 

“Oh, Estinien,” Katsu mumbled, wrapping her arms protectively around his torso. “What is all of this about?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he choked out through his tears. And it didn’t. 

Being careful not to break from his embrace, Katsu maneuvered into Estinien’s lap and started to gently kiss his tears away. Once she was sure she had gotten them all, she touched her forehead to his and cupped his face in her hands.

“My handsome dragoon,” she told him.

A stupid, lovestricken grin spread across Estinien’s face and he placed a tiny kiss to her nose. “And you’re my beautiful moon flower,” he told her. 

Katsu’s eyes widened slightly at the new nickname and she hastily buried her face into Estinien’s chest, no doubt trying to hide her blush. A soft chuckle rumbled in his throat and he leaned down to gently kiss her hair. She pressed a tender kiss in response to the deep scar that had once been his left nipple, causing a shiver to go down his spine that had nothing to do with the crisp water.

“Careful, lest you want to miss the fireworks.”

Katsu giggled lightly. “Nay, we wouldn’t want that. They are belike to start any minute, afterall.” 

As if on cue, a firework exploded in the night sky, prompting the couple to turn their attention upwards. Katsu reclined her head against Estinien’s collarbone so she could watch the fireworks comfortably.

“I’ve always loved fireworks,” she told him. “They’re so colorful and pretty.”

Estinien hummed quietly in acknowledgement and rested his chin on her head. While pretty and colorful things weren’t exactly his cup of tea, he couldn’t bear the thought of disappointing Katsu by telling her that. He knew how badly she had been wanting to watch the festival fireworks with him. Besides, they were clearly making Katsu happy and that was enough for him. When he didn’t respond after a minute or two, she frowned the slightest bit before realization crossed her features and she reached up to gently run her fingertips against one of his pointed ears.

“They aren’t hurting your ears, are they? I forgot your kind has sensitive hearing.”

Even though he found her concern touching, Estinien grunted as he softly batted her hand away. “Please. I’ve heard many a dragon’s roar in the past. I think I can handle a few fireworks. Besides,” he brushed his knuckles against the curve of Katsu’s horn, “I’m more concerned about you. Correct me if I’m wrong, but don’t your horns use vibrations to hear? These sharp noises can’t be pleasant.” 

Katsu looked surprised for a brief moment, but she then grinned broadly. “You’re such a sweetheart.”

Estinien felt his cheeks flush deeply. “Oh, shush,” he grumbled.

“You’ll have to-mmpf!”

Katsu’s retort dissolved into a muffled sound of surprise when Estinien pressed their lips together. He took a moment to savor the kiss before addressing her, their lips still touching.

“You were saying?”

“Mmm, I can’t say I was quite expecting that,” she mumbled, pausing to lightly kiss his lips, “but I shan’t complain.”

Estinien’s lips curled into a satisfied smirk. “Good,” he muttered before placing another small kiss on her lips.

Katsu grinned against his lips and gave him one last kiss. She then pulled back slightly and twirled some strands of his hair around her finger that had worked themselves free of the loose bun he had tied it in that morning.

“You’re absolutely right and certes, the vibrations they cause are irritating. But, it’s completely worth it to be able to share them with you.”

Estinien smiled at Katsu softly and gently moved her off his lap, disregarding her puzzled expression. He then repositioned himself so he was laying on his back with his head across her thighs and folded his hands on his stomach. 

“Mayhap we should watch some fireworks, then,” he told her.

“Aye, you’re right,” she said quietly. 

The disappointment in Katsu’s voice was palpable, which caused Estinien to frown quizzically. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s just a shame that we have to leave tomorrow,” she told him glumly. 

Her statement triggered Estinien’s recollection of some advice G’raha had given him prior to the faire’s commencement.

“If I may offer some advice, don’t rush back here as soon as the festival is done. You needn’t worry about the twins. Sten and I can keep an eye on them, though we both know they really don’t need it. But, you really need this time with Katsu.” 

“If you’d like,” Estinien said uncertainly, fidgeting his thumbs, “we can certainly stay in Costa del Sol a while longer.”

The way Katsu’s expression completely lit up at his suggestion was a sight far more captivating to Estinien than any firework and it made him feel incredibly stupid for ever doubting that she loved him.

“I’d like that very much,” she gushed. 

“As would I, my dear,” Estinien told her. “I love you.”

Katsu positively beamed down at him, tracing her fingertips against his lips. “I love you, too.”

Estinien lightly kissed her fingers before nodding toward the sky. “We’d best dispense with the chatter for now. In case you haven’t noticed, we’re missing the fireworks.”

[sirensyndicate]

A Fond Farewell

Short Story by Nathaerus Reauloix ~ Mateus

“Grab your cups, lads!” Nathaerus called out cheerfully as he approached his crew at the long table in the galley with a fresh round of ale, “And lasses!” shouted a Miqo’te woman at the far end of the table. He laughed heartily at that, and gave the woman a wink, “Of course. I would never forget the lasses, especially one as lovely as you, but for my error of making you think you’d been forsaken, I will deliver your ale personally.”

He set down the tray of steins and slid two aside as the remainder were set upon immediately by the parched crewmates as they offered scattered thanks and grunts of acknowledgement. As the Elezen hoisted the claimed steins for himself and the woman at the opposite end of the long communal table, a rough looking Roegadyn the size of a bear gave him a jarring pat on the back before resting his lumbering arm over the Elezen’s shoulders, “You’re alright, lad. At first I didn’t think you’d be a lick of help here, what with you lookin’ like a scrawny sack o’ shite like you do, but, this has been a smoother tour than I’ve had in ages, thanks in part to yer skills. Ye’ll be missed, my boy.”

“Don’t get sentimental on me now, Hareswerd! We’ve still got one more night to get through together, hm? It’s not over until we reach the airship dock in Limsa. There’s still plenty of time for me to disappoint you!” Nathaerus said, voice full of mirth as he nimbly pivoted out of Hareswerd’s grasp and made his way to the Miqo’te. 

She swished her tail excitedly as he approached. Circling around behind her, he bent down over her shoulder, chest pressed lightly to her back. He placed his mouth close to her ear as he set down the ale in front of her, “And for you.” he said lowly before dropping his voice to a whisper to continue, “We’ve one more evening on this vessel. Last chance to make good on my offer. Give it some thought, Khipi.” The woman blushed furiously as Nathaerus stood, letting his touch linger gently on her shoulder before making his way to the head of the table. 

He cleared his throat and raised his own glass in the air, “To clear skies, honest gil, and the hardest working crew in Eorzea!”

The motley group at the table cheered and clattered their steins together in a symbol of camaraderie before downing the contents. Nathaerus brought his own mug to his lips then paused, setting it on the table. He snapped his fingers as if realizing something brilliant for the first time, “I should bring a little after dinner drink to some of the skeleton crew for being so kind as to allow us this final farewell.” He grinned conspiratorially, “You all won’t sell me out to the captain for giving the men something to lift their spirits for their selfless deeds will you?” the group scoffed and waved him off. He gave them an apologetic grin for his oversight that would leave his friends deprived of his presence for a short while.

Nathaerus wandered back to the barrels along the wall of the galley, kneeling down to reach the tap. Filling each stein one by one, he tapped an extra ingredient from a vial hidden up his right sleeve ; a simple sleeping powder he’d purchased from an apothecary, to help him get some rest from the constant noise of the airship engines, he’d claimed. 

Some people found the droning of the machina soothing, but no, not Nathaerus. His senses were simply too delicate, and he couldn’t possibly manage without something to help him rest. He would let his crew down if he worked sleep-deprived. He’d be fired, and his poor mother counted on his wages too! 

The apothecary had taken the bait and given him enough to last an entire contracted stint on an airship or, to lace the drinks of the lookouts the night before the end of his contract to allow him to work in peace.

 Offering Khipi a final wink on his way out of the galley, he wandered over to the slim crew that had been left to stand watch over the cargo room making sure to give a wide berth to the helm and the captain’s quarters on his way. The lookouts offered him a nod of thanks and well wishes on wherever his next job would take him. Nathaerus stayed to exchange a few pleasantries before heading back down to the rest of the group. 

He turned the corner of the narrow corridor back to the galley and nearly ran directly into Khipi. She jumped back in surprise and then averted her gaze quickly. 

“I - was getting tired, and I...I wanted to make sure I saw you before I went to bed.” her cheeks flushed as she spoke, voice barely above a whisper.

Nathaerus smirked, olive eyes shining with interest at her sudden bashfulness , “Did you now? What could I, a simple sailor, possibly help the Chief Steward with at so late an hour?” his voice was filled with amusement as he slowly closed the distance between himself and Khipi. For every steady step he took, she shuffled back with equally unsure steps until her back hit the wall at the end of the corridor. Nathaerus placed one hand beside her head on the wall and ghosted his fingertips over one of her shoulders with the other, “Well?” he asked and paused, awaiting her answer. 

In response, Khipi took a deep breath, pushed herself from the wall and jumped, hooking her legs around his waist and digging her hands into his hair, kissing him deeply. Nathaerus returned the kiss while he grasped at her waist, sliding his fingers along her side to fish for the small key ring which she always carried. When his index finger hit the metal ring, he deftly found the clip and released it from her belt loop,tucking it into his pants’ pocket. He laughed softly to break the kiss with the woman, “Now now, Khipi. What would the captain say if he saw you behaving this way, really?” 

The Miqo’te released her grasp on the man and dropped down to the floor with a huff and a light thud. “I’ll be in my room then!” she declared and stared at him meaningfully for a moment before smoothing her hair down and heading off in the opposite direction.That had been a lucky break and easier than he’d expected. He’d planned to spend another several hours drinking with the crew to get an opportunity to free the key ring from her. 

He whistled a jaunty tune to himself as he made his way back to the galley which was in an uproar. Deep in their cups, the rest of the crew had begun a bare knuckle boxing match between some of the rougher members, and the din of the blows combined with the cheers of the spectators was enough to drown out most anything happening on the ship at this time of night. Nathaerus peered in from the doorway taking care not to be seen. 

This was as good a time as any.

He retraced his steps back to the cargo hold, and laughed lightly as he bent down to pat one of the passed out guards on the cheek. “Sweet dreams, my good man.” Nathaerus checked over each shoulder for unwanted lookers-on before he flipped through the key chain, trying several before finally the door gave way with a click of the tumbles falling into place. Nath slipped in and pushed the heavy door shut behind him.

He knew what he was looking for, a crate from the goldsmith’s guild in Ul’dah shipping a custom order necklace for some relocated merchant’s daughter in Costa del Sol by way of Limsa. It would be small, and bearing the emblem of the guild, and he need only find it, pry it open, take the necklace and be gone before anyone noticed he was missing from his own farewell party.

He made his way around the room methodically by the dim light available in the hold. Boxes of textiles, food, and other mundane goods were available in abundance, but the small box of jewels remained hidden like buried treasure. After several false starts, from the corner of his eye he caught the emblem of the Goldsmith’s Guild burned into the wood of a crate in the back corner of the room. He dashed over, and with a practiced hand, prised open the lid. 

There it was, silver chain with a large emerald set in a ring of diamonds attached to the chain. Nathaerus whistled, impressed, as he lifted it from the crate and held it in front of him, the light dancing off the jewels, mesmerizing him. So much so that he didn’t hear the door open behind him. 

“What in the Seven Hells do you think you’re doing in here? What happened to the boys out fr-” the bellowing voice stopped and Nathaerus heard the click of a gun, “Yer trying to steal from me, you filthy sky rat! I ought to take the brains out of yer head since you clearly ain’t usin’ ‘em!” Nathaerus slipped the chain of the necklace around his index finger and slowly stood, raising his hands in surrender before pivoting to face the voice he already knew.

The captain was a hulking Roegadyn man, his face was turning red and his rage was punctuated by the barrel of the rifle that he had aimed directly at Nathaerus.

“Captain! I wasn’t expecting your delightful company!” Nathaerus cautiously watched the man as he began, “You could, in fact kill me here, but I suspect that might bode poorly for your operations.”

The man tightened his grip on his rifle, “ An’ how do ye figure that? I kill a thief on board my vessel, and I’m a bloody hero.”

“Hm, not quite. First, you’d run the risk of damaging your cargo since all you’ve got to kill me is that inaccurate rifle. But let’s say for fun you do manage it. You’d still need to answer for why there’s a body on your ship once you dock. You could throw my body over, but I am well beloved by the crew, more than you, with all due respect...sir. The crew would notice my absence and be disinclined to believe your tale about me being a thief all along and get the officials involved when you dock. Then, of course, they would conduct a thorough investigation of your vessel.”

The captain raised his rifle to aim at Nathaerus’s head, “Make your point, and make it fast, you knife-eared piece of shite.”

“Well, sir. I think this might be an issue.” Nathaerus kicked the wall beside him and knocked loose a plank on the wall, sending large satchels of somnus spilling forth. The captain seemed shaken and his grip on the gun faltered. 

Nathaerus left no time for the man to reply, “I chose your ship for a reason. Two, really, but only one that matters to you at the moment.” His face broke into a grin as he continued, “You can either let me walk off of this ship with this trinket whose value pales in comparison to that of your real cargo, or, you can risk having your entire operation exposed. Entirely your call, Captain” he said, the last word dripping with sarcasm.

For what felt like an eternity, the Roegadyn kept the gun trained on Nathaerus before he finally relented with a groan of frustration. “Take the bloody necklace, but you will never work for me again. I never want to see that shite-eating grin of yours for the rest of my cursed life, you hear me?”

Nathaerus spun the necklace around on his finger before catching it in his palm and casually tucking his hands in his pants’ pockets as he made his way to the door.  “That was always the plan.”

[ofdragonsdeep]

13: Oneirophrenia

Internal wounds leave the deepest scars.

(MAJOR CW for implied rape, m!WoLxThancred, m!WoLxHaurchefant)

The still quiet of the night hung in the air like a held breath. In the Rising Stones, the air was free of the sickly purple gloom that suffused the air of Mor Dhona, the only disturbances the noises coming from the common room and its tiny yet perpetual bar.

In his room, simple as it was, Ar’telan struggled to sleep. He lay on his side, covers pulled up around him to ward off the cold, tail coiled in a miserable pile at his legs. Each time he closed his eyes, the thoughts came back, wending their way through his sleeping mind as though aware that his defences would be down.

Most of the nightmares he could cope with. He would wake and then sleep again, a huff on his lips at the foolishness of dwelling on them. People he had seen die, the massacre at the Waking Sands, the trail of blood that their campaign had led through Castrum Meridianum, all of this was par for the course. One of the Scions he spoke to on occasion, a young elezen called Alianne who had been an adventurer once, had been learning from the Eorzean Alliance’s trained therapists, what few of them were left in the wake of the calamity. The trauma was expected - normal, even, in people who had witnessed horrific events like the ones he had seen. But there was one nightmare that he did not speak of, the reason he was sleeping alone, if he was sleeping at all. The feeling of ‘Thancred’ catching his hands to silence his words, Lahabrea hearing his every protest with the Echo, the cruel things he had said, the things he had done, to try and crack Ar’telan’s faith in the Scions. Always, inevitably, it went back to that, as if living it once had not been punishment enough.

With a groan of frustration, he rolled over in the bed, pulling the covers over his head as if to block out the night. How easy it would be if he did not need sleep, or if he simply drank himself into a stupor every night like Thancred did, to cope with the aftermath.

Maybe Thancred had the right of it.

---

“You look like the dodo the cook forgot about in the back of the pantry,” Yda said, Ar’telan wincing at the specifics of her description.

“I am fine,” he said, stifling a yawn as he said it. “Just a little tired.” Yda squinted at him - at least, he thought she did, the way she tilted her head towards him, but it was hard to tell through the mask.

“When was the last time you had a good night’s sleep?” she demanded. Ar’telan groaned.

“I don’t know. But I will be fine. Thank you for your concern,” he said. This did not seem to convince Yda, if the way she looked back towards Papalymo was any judge, but she at least left him alone for the time being.

It was Y’shtola who disturbed him, more gently than he was used to from the acerbic conjurer. A poke of her wooden wand into his arm, and he raised his head from where it lay on the table to look at her.

“Am I needed?” he asked, and Y’shtola let out a sharp sigh.

“Yes. Come with me,” she instructed, and Ar’telan pushed himself out of the chair and followed her.

She did not take him to the Solar, like he was inspecting. Instead, she led him into one of the many little side rooms in the Rising Stones, which were normally reserved for all sorts of things that Ar’telan was not involved in.

“Sit,” she demanded, pointing at a chair. Confused, Ar’telan did as he was told. Y’shtola mirrored the motion in the chair opposite him, folding her arms across her chest. “Yda tells me you have not been sleeping enough,” she said, and Ar’telan wilted.

“I am fine,” he said, and Y’shtola let out a harrumph of disagreement.

“I am sure you are. That may have swayed me during our eventful stay at Costa del Sol, but it will not work here,” she snapped. Ar’telan would very much have liked to go back to the busywork of doing inane tasks for the Company of Heroes, in truth. At least when he was busy he did not think, and when he wore himself out his sleep was long and blissfully dreamless. “What troubles you? I would hope that after all this time we are friends enough for you to share it.” Ar’telan grimaced.

“It… it’s nothing much. Nightmares. Alianne has been helping,” he said, trying to evade the brunt of the question. “I will improve when I am busy again. I’m sorry for the fuss.” Y’shtola shook her head again, taking out her wand to bonk him lightly on the head with it.

“Do not apologise for struggling. We none of us are perfect,” she chastised, and Ar’telan shrunk back away from her in shame.

“No. But… No,” he said, changing his mind. Too late, though, for Y’shtola was after the half-formed thought like a starveling wolf on a hunk of fresh meat.

“This is about Thancred, isn’t it?” she surmised, and Ar’telan cringed at the accuracy of her statement. Not that it was exactly difficult to piece together that the two of them were coping poorly in the aftermath of the Praetorium, Thancred through drink and Ar’telan through anything he could get that would not cloud his mind. After Castrum Centri, some part of him had hoped that it would all make sense - that he would be able to parcel it away, file the memories into neat little boxes, half labelled ‘Thancred’ and the rest ‘Lahabrea’, but reality was cold and unfeeling in its truth.

“It is fine. We have reached an understanding,” Ar’telan said, which made Y’shtola scoff.

“They could hear your arguments all the way in Gridania. Well, Thancred’s half of them, at any rate,” she said. “It does not have to be easy, Ar’telan. You have not failed for struggling with it. The Twelve know you are at least coping better than Thancred is.” Ar’telan was not so sure of that, but he held his tongue on it regardless.

“It is fine. He is right-”

“He most certainly is not,” Y’shtola cut in. “Not if it is hurting you this much. Talk to me, Ar’telan. Your words will not reach his ears, if that is what concerns you.” Ar’telan hesitated. He had kept his counsel before the Garleans had raided the Waking Sands, and what had that got him? He had been convinced that his words were meaningless, his opinion irrelevant, his worth nothing more than his usefulness to the cause. To keep his silence was what Lahabrea had wanted from him, wasn’t it?

“It is… it is difficult,” he admitted, and the words were hard to shape, as though he had been avoiding the revelation even to himself. “I can’t… I couldn’t… It comes back. What Laha- what Lahabrea did.” He hesitated over the words, his fingers shaking as he made the sign for the ascian’s name. “I can’t be near him without remembering it. Can’t be close to him. I tried to- tried to ease the fear.” He had touched his fingers to Thancred’s throat, content that if the tiny crystal on its choker was not there, that it was really Thancred this time, that the spectre of Lahabrea would be banished, but Thancred could only see that without it, Ar’telan thought him capable of all the things that Lahabrea had done. Of course it hurt him. Why wouldn’t it hurt him? It was a terrible thing to accuse a person of, even in implicit gestures and terrified catastrophizing. But what was he supposed to do? “Thancred - we - it doesn’t work. And he is angry, and I am s-scared, and when I try to sleep it all comes back.” Y’shtola’s face softened at the revelation. She was the only one who knew, aside from Thancred himself, at least as far as Ar’telan knew. He hadn’t dared tell anyone else, not even Minfilia, given how stressed she was with everything that had happened to her during her time in captivity, and her closeness to Thancred. Part of him had feared that she would think him a monster to believe Thancred capable of what Lahabrea had done, even if that had been the point. It was not supposed to be easy. The ascian would not have bothered otherwise.

“It’s ok,” Y’shtola told him, gently taking one of his hands in hers, leaving him the room to pull it back if he needed to speak. “Such terrors do not fade quickly. Maybe they never will. But we cannot help if you do not tell us.” Ar’telan nodded, knowing that she was right. She usually was. At least she was not as insufferable about it as Alphinaud. “I am not a master of the culinary arts, but I shall speak with some friends, and find you some herbs to help you sleep. I will not tell them why.” He nodded, swallowing down the rising panic at her suggestion, the thought that anyone else would know, would judge him for what had happened, for his weakness in being unable to confront it. It seemed little different to Thancred’s self-medication, still rendering him useless until the herbs wore off, but he would bear it if it meant that he could sleep.

“Thank you,” he said, using only his free hand to do it. It was hard to whisper when you had no voice, but perhaps that counted. “I… I am sorry. For not… not trusting you.” Y’shtola shook her head, naught on her face but concern.

“‘Twas the point of it, was it not? To make you doubt,” she said. “It will take time, and if need be, I shall drag you off to speak with you a dozen more times ere you feel comfortable coming to me yourself. The villain is ousted, and even if he will reconstitute, you have time left to breathe and gather yourself. If there is aught you need, simply say.”

“I will try,” Ar’telan said, the best he could offer in the circumstances. Y’shtola nodded.

“Good. I shall hold you to that,” she decided.

---

Dawn filtered through the cracks in the window like the caress of a lover, rousing Ar’telan from his sleep. The bed was no less simple, and no less empty, but it did not yawn before him like a chasm that seemed impossible to cross, and perhaps that would mean something.

It was not easy. Each night he drank the bitter herbs that he had been so discreetly given felt like a stay of execution more than a panacea, and the tensions between him and Thancred showed no signs of abating. The troubles in Ishgard offered a tantalising opportunity to bury himself in the work of others, to keep his own counsel and pray that an untended wound would somehow heal, but it was not that easy. It was never that easy, not when the knife had cut so deep with edges so sharp and cruel.

He would hold his own. He had no choice but to persevere.

(And when Haurchefant’s hands touched his, though he woke still alone for all their wishes, the elezen let him run his fingers over his throat - unmarked by ascian aether, reassuring in its warmth - it felt like, one day, he might heal.)

[fistsoflightning]

2: call of the sea

prompt: sway || masterpost || other fills || ao3 mirror

word count: 1466

Jacke, and the siren (?) that sits at the end of the Rogues’ Guild’s dock.

Set post-5.3, but no real spoilers! Just some Rogues’ Guild levels of ‘what the fuck are you saying’ aka thieves’ cant.

“Jaaaacke,” V’kebbe calls from the doorframe of the Sisters. “There’s a cat at the end o’ our dock caterwaulin’; ‘s drivin’ the colts mad.”

Jacke, for lack of his usual penchant to roll along to V’kebbe’s schemes, scoffs. Between Rhela, her axe, and Heart being called back up to Ghimlyt Dark and the brewing storm calling all the pirate crews back to shore, his hands have been carefully tangled up in all the trails he needs to keep an eye or five on. “Are ye sayin’ ye can’t handle a cat, Stray?”

“Sure I can, but the colts,” she drawls, and Jacke can imagine her dramatically waving her arms about without even looking away from his newest report. “they like t’ hop the twig if Perimu loses focus, an’ I was meant t’ grabble a pair o’ knives from Naldiq an’ Vymelli’s, so I whiddled…”

“V’kebbe, it takes hardly a secon’ t’ scare off a beastie with yer stabbers. Jus’ kick a barrel at it or summat ‘fore ye go.”

Instead of a mumbled insult or groan, however, all Jacke hears after that is a giggle. Strange.

“Look,” she says after a few beats of silence, and her tone borders on something curious with how it lilts over the distant clash of metal. “Did ye want me t’ teach or t’ scare off our damber cove for his terrible singin’ voice?”

Jacke looks up to her with a raised eyebrow, finally curious enough. V’kebbe waggles her eyebrows suggestively in return.

Damn. Since when was he this easily swayed by V’kebbe, much less him?

“Fine, fine,” he says, shoving his chair away from the table. “Ye benar not be lyin’ or yer on teachin’ duties fer the rest o’ the moon.”

“An’ ye’d think I’d lie o’er this? I’m utterly shocked—”

Jacke pushes his way past V’kebbe in the doorframe before they inevitably start squabbling over who lies more often and over what ridiculous thing, taking care not to smash her tail with the hinges of the door like Perimu did a fortnight ago.

He does, however, raise a hand to her head just to muss up her bandana as he goes, because even if Tehra’ir’s voice can and will break glass should he continue, she could have just cut to the point!

It’s just a brisk walk out from the guildhall when Jacke catches the first slightly-less-scratchy-than-before note of singing coming from the direction of the Astalicia’s mooring point, and he quickens his pace as Lonwoerd quietly waves to him. At least his singing is buggering the brigands and pirates likely sleeping on the ship, Jacke thinks quietly as he hums the sailor’s song Tehra’ir is failing to capture properly. It’s not exactly territory he should be wandering into leisurely, but he’d bet a whole year’s worth of blunt that they would know better than to mess with a Warrior of Light, much less a rogue.

He can see why Tehra’ir would linger outside tonight, though; the summer heat had, for the most part, already boiled off, bringing the cool sea breeze closer to shore with the rising tides, and the lion’s share of the daily riff raff had either gone to bed or vacated to the Wench with the intent of drinking themselves to sleep.

And, he thinks, chuckling to himself, leave it to a Keeper of the Moon to stay outside well past what’s good for an adventurer in Limsa, light of the full moon glimmering over the dark seas and all.

“Ho there,” he calls when he come close enough to see silver at the end of the dock, and the quick twitch of Tehra’ir’s tail is all the invitation he needs to keep walking towards the man, staring out at sea. The lights of the Astalicia catch on the blade of his daggers, still strapped to his side, and the light blue tips of his hair nearly turn sterling silver under it. “Didn’ think ye’d be back so soon, after yer last missive.”

Even though he’s turned away from Jacke, his grin seeps enough into his words that Jacke can almost see it, fangs and all. “Finally managed t’ catch yer attention, did I?”

“Not quite,” Jacke admits, clambering carefully onto the crates next to Tehra’ir’s decided perch of a barrel. He elects to haphazardly seat himself on the second crate up rather than right next to the miqo’te, leaning forward to see him better. “Sent the Stray an’ Underfoot t’ train some colts, an’ a bell later V’kebbe comes complainin’ of a ‘caterwaulin’ cat’ at the end o’ our docks. Thought it a rummy tale, first—” Jacke leans forward a bit more to lightly tug Tehra’ir’s bandana over his eyes. “—then remembered just how much ye tried t’ fob off the idea that ye were a siren when really ye—”

“Stubble it, I was not that bad! An’ ‘twas Underfoot that started the rummy tale, anyways!”

Tehra’ir exaggeratedly fusses with his bandana, and when his eyes are freed of the cloth he turns to give Jacke a fond glare and a swipe at his crate in return. It doesn’t do much but make Jacke kick up his leg to avoid a good bruise on the side of his calf, but he can appreciate the effort.

“Anyroad, V’kebbe pulled me from me pile of papers,” Jacke continues when Tehra’ir is finished fussing with his bandana, ears flicking to make sure the thing’s on proper. “an’ now I be here, prattlin’ with you. Did ye plan on comin’ into the Guild anytime soon?”

Tehra’ir hops off his barrel, landing firmly back on the docks as the barrel sways back and forth from the sudden loss of weight holding it still. “Nah—Wyda’s here with me; Scions say I still need more bed rest, but ye never saw me here, deal?”

“‘Course,” Jacke says, eyes following Tehra’ir as he walks slowly back down the way of the docks towards Fisherman’s Bottom, taking note of how he wobbles back and forth slightly like a druken sailor, tail lashing with him to keep him balanced. “How far are ye into the cups?” He carefully leaps back down onto the docks, just the smallest bit enchanted by the gentle swish-swish of Tehra’ir’s tail as he slows to turn on his heels.

“Not at all,” Tehra’ir answers, voice crisp, clear, and measured. “Or very, dependin’ on what pleases ye, cap’n.”

Jacke raises an eyebrow as he catches up to his fellow rogue.

“Don’t be daft, love,” he says, cheekily flicking at one of Tehra’ir’s ears just to see it bounce back, albeit leaving a jokingly stern look now plastered to Tehra’ir’s face. “Ye please me as is.”

Tehra’ir huffs, tension draining from his shoulders. “Bene; was ‘fraid I was goin’ to need bingo from the Wench after this.” 

He lightly pushes himself up onto the tips of his feet to kiss just below Jacke’s temple, and Jacke quietly wonders where he could have gotten that information, to know where would be best to gently pepper affection. When he bounces back onto his heels, he almost tips too far backwards, so Jacke grabs his wrist and tugs him back until he’s standing properly.

“An’ who said ye couldn’t have yerself a drink if it did go well?” He nudges Tehra’ir’s ribs with his elbow, wincing slightly when he hits his ribs harder than he’d expected. “ ‘Sides, I whiddle ye need to yaffle a bite, anyroad; nearly one o’ those skeletons off on the Isles o’ Umbra.”

“Yer still as bony as always,” he grumbles in response as he wriggles his hand into Jacke’s. When Jacke chances to look back up, Tehra’ir’s eyes shimmer like the sea off Costa del Sol at sunset, and Jacke has never wondered if the entirety of the sea at its finest could be rivaled by a person like all of those bawdy sailor’s tales until now. “Since yer here, care t’ make it a date at the Wench? Ye owe me a few victory drinks an’ suppers, if I recall.”

Jacke laughs. Leave it to Tehra’ir to remember all the bets he’s lost a free meal to, and not to remember that the Wench is both crowded and the opposite of romantic.

“Are ye sure Zaya’s taste fer any and all food hasn’t rubbed off on ye? The Wench ain’t fine dinin’, an’ as far as I know the Bismarck’s still servin ‘til three bells past.”

Tehra’ir blushes, then, an unusual red compared to his usually pale complexion, and his tail whips around into his hands so he can fidget with the fur standing up at the ends. “I… lost track of time? Thought the Bismarck'd be closed by now...”

Jacke starts laughing harder at that, but he gently sways closer into Tehra’ir’s space before he calms down and says, “Don't matter much to me, anyroad, so long as it's edible an' won't get me strung up, so aye, I'll dine with ye. Always, love.”

[efrmellifer]

Snow and Sand

Wyrmelliferel Week: Day Five

Etien bounced as she entered the Firmament, taking a deep breath as she surveyed it again. “The decorations are still holding up so well.”

Estinien and Aymeric caught up to her.

“It feels like such a long time since I last visited the Firmament,” Aymeric sighed, “As if it were since Valentione’s, in fact.”

“We were just here for your nameday,” Estinien replied. “What were you doing here for Valentione’s?”

“When all the restoration work was finished, there was a concert. One of Lord Artoirel’s compositions. Etien played piano in it.”

“Oh. I might have liked to see that,” Estinien mumbled.

“You would have enjoyed it, I think. It was splendid. And to think I would have missed it, had Dae not come and nearly beat down my door telling me I had to get to Saint Roelle’s Dais.”

Having returned to their sides, Etien let out a flustered giggle. “I wish I had gotten more time to practice. Artoirel worked hard on writing that music, and he deserved a better performance from me. Francel did well, though.”

“I’m sure you did very well,” Estinien said, rubbing her back. “Especially the way Aymeric tells it. But why piano? You play the lyre and clarinet best.”

“They needed a pianist,” she shrugged, “that, or they wanted to keep me seated.” “For?” Aymeric asked, the thought never occurring to him.

“Comfort of myself and the general public while I had a condition,” she said with a raise of her eyebrows. He nodded.

Then came the announcement, all the way to where the three of them stood: a fete was about to take place.

“Ah. I was wondering why you were wearing that,” Estinien said, lifting and tugging on the one fastened strap of Etien’s overalls. “It suits you, but isn’t quite what I’m used to see you in.”

She adjusted her hat on her head with a wide grin. “I suppose that’s true. Come along, I’d love for you two to see the fete in full swing.”

“Oh, I have seen,” Aymeric said.

“You have?”

He nodded, then lifted a finger to his lips with a gentle “shh. But don’t tell the young lord de Haillenarte; he would have a fit if he knew. He’s been worried about when I would next pop by for ‘a surprise inspection,’ and I haven’t the heart to do one, knowing how he’s been fretting.”

“I think you get a better look just wandering it in its natural state, anyway,” Estinien said. “There would be too much excitement and additional polish if they found out you were coming or already there.”

“I want to say those were my thoughts exactly. Mostly, I just enjoy the energy of a fete. All those crafters and gatherers working so hard, as one.”

“Especially Etien, I would think,” remarked Estinien.

“Especially Etien. But I already knew how hard she works.”

She toddled off to the fete, and hoping that she wouldn’t feel watched if she couldn’t see them, Aymeric and Estinien chose to wander the pathways of the Firmament while avoiding the stampede of crafters and gatherers barreling by every so often.

So they ended up in the row of stalls run by traders from all over Eorzea.

“Oh, here,” Aymeric said, gently pulling Estinien to a Gridanian’s stall. “Has Etien told you about the pumpkin pastries they make near the border between the Black Shroud and Coerthas?” He handed over the requisite coins, requesting two of the pastries. When they were in his hands, he thanked the shopkeep and then handed one to Estinien. “You simply must try them, they’re delicious.”

Estinien took a hesitant bite, his chewing getting faster and less stilted when he had decided he liked it.

“How does she eat this, with all that butter?”

“I would assume she adapts the recipe, but I fear she just suffers in silence.”

Estinien nodded, and they kept walking.

As they came up on the painter, who was still trying to depict the view of Ishgard perfectly, Aymeric let his hand slip into Estinien’s.

Though he tightened his grip, Estinien asked, “What’s this for?”

“Simply put, it’s for I love you, and I like spending time with you. We don’t get to nearly enough,” he replied, swiping a stray flake of pastry from the corner of Estinien’s mouth with his free hand.

They kept walking, until they reached another major intersection. “Oh, look,” Aymeric mused, stretching upward as if he needed to make himself taller to see down the pathway. “Here she comes, carrying that massive stuffed Moogle.”

“Will she see us?”

“Not if she doesn’t look up after putting it in the wagon.”

They watched her get it loaded, then immediately turn around and go back to start the process again.

“That’s our girl,” Estinien murmured.

“Our little worker bee. We’ll have to make sure she gets some honey later.”

“She has honey all the time in her tea.”

Aymeric kissed him, and it took him a moment to figure out what for. “Not actual honey, Estinien.”

“Oh,” he said softly. “Yes, I think we should. But I want to sample it some more first.”

***

“Have I ever mentioned how little I like the sun in La Noscea?” Estinien grumbled, trying to pull his hat lower.

“Careful, you might send your head straight through the top of that,” Aymeric said, attempting to soothe him with a hand on his arm. “We can find some shade and ensure your comfort in just a moment.”

“Etien looks busy, though.”

“You know how they are with her,” Aymeric complained lightly. “She’ll come back here when they let her.”

Estinien sat down in the sand. “Do they ever consider giving either of you a break?”

“Lucia does, I do not,” Aymeric countered, joining him on the sand.

“Well the Scions never seem to let up,” Estinien huffed.

“So I hear.”

The pair of them sat there for some time, just listening to the waves lapping at the shore. It was soothing, in its rhythm, so much so that both were starting to fall asleep, only dimly aware of the sandaled feet trudging over to them.

“I came to find two Elezen, and in their place, I find two lobsters,” Etien said with a laugh, holding out her parasol so they were both offered some freedom from the sun.

“Do we look that bad?” Aymeric asked, sounding groggy.

“No, it’s nothing a little bit of healing couldn’t remedy. But I don’t have my codex. Come on, up onto the docks,” she encouraged them both.

While she rubbed aloe into their skin, she asked something of an obvious question. “You’re out of practice, hmm?” She patted Estinien’s shoulders, gently, so she didn’t smack the inflamed skin.

“What do you mean?”

“You spend so much time bundled up, or at the very least covered from the chin down, generally speaking, that you’re no longer used to warm-weather wear and sun protection.”

“We used to be,” Estinien said with just a touch of bitterness. “But aye, not anymore.”

Aymeric chimed in. “And this is our first longer-term visit to La Noscea.”

“Well, other than the fishing trip,” Estinien noted. “That was when Etien came back with all that squid.”

“I see. That solves a mystery I had resigned myself to never having the answer to, at least.”

The other two beamed at him.

“And though I would have preferred my first time at the Moonfire Faire not result in my being restricted to the docks where we have guaranteed shade, I can think of no one I would want to be here with more.”

“Aww,” Etien cooed, drawing a little heart on Aymeric’s back in aloe before she worked it into his skin. “Don’t fret too much, as soon as we get home, I’ll have this all healed up, and we can come back tomorrow. How does that sound?”

They both agreed it sounded good, heading back to the Aetheryte so they could plan for the next day’s excursion to Costa del Sol. And now that Etien had finished her official business there, there were no requirements other than enjoy their brief break from snow. The castles that awaited would be sand, not stone.

[pain-in-the-asguardian]

Pillar

On Ao3 here.

Clouds gathered overhead as the two of them trudged down the street.  There was something heavy and strange in the air.  Not the sense of a storm, exactly.  He couldn't put his finger on it, and he was too damn tired to even try.  The two of them had been through more than enough in the past 24 hours. “Some weird shit's goin' down, yanno?”

Rude grunted a reply, eyes hidden behind his shades even in the darkness, though Reno knew the things had night vision.  “Even if it is, not our problem right now.  You heard the boss.”

“Yeah, yeah.  Two entire days of R&R, just for destroying part of the city.  Fan-fuckin'-tastic.”

“You sure you can make it?  We can catch a ride.”

“I can make it a damn block, yo.”  Rude had insisted that Reno stay at his place, at least for tonight.  It was walking distance to HQ, and his partner had made it clear he wasn't about to let him out of his sight until he was certain Reno wasn't going to fall apart.  In truth, Reno felt the same.  Rude didn't show his pain, but that didn't mean it wasn't there.  He wasn't about to leave his partner alone tonight. Not after what he'd been forced to do.  Because of Reno...

The effects of the healing materia were wearing off, and he was feeling it.  The magic had worked well enough to allow them to complete their mission of escorting the new President to his castle, and taking out an AVALANCHE copter or two, but it could only last so long.  Reno could sense the burns resurfacing, myriad little cuts and bruises making themselves known once more.  They wouldn't be as bad, thank Ramuh, but the materia wasn't a true cure-all.  Only rest and time could do that.

They continued in silence, both lost in their own thoughts of the tragedy they'd unleashed.  The heavy clouds overhead opened just as they reached the apartment complex, rain beginning with a vengeance as they ducked into the lobby.  Perks of a Turk salary meant actually getting to live topside and in a fair amount of comfort.  Rude unlocked the door of his unit, and the two of them stumbled in, only slightly damp.  Reno blinked in the sudden brightness as his partner flipped on the lights.  He'd been here on a few occasions throughout the years, but just for an evening of private drinking and the occasional action flick marathon.

“I need a fuckin' drink. Or twelve.”

The apartment was a decent size, with an open kitchen and living room.  A hallway lead off one side into the bedroom and bathroom.  Rude strode to the hall cabinet, pulling out a towel and tossing it over.  “Here. Shower first, while you're still on your feet.  Then we can drink.  Otherwise you'll drown yourself.”  He removed his sunglasses, wiping them down.  Reno glared at him, and he returned the look evenly.  “I'll find something for you to wear.  Oh, and shampoo in the cabinet.  Figured I should keep some around.”

“Yeah... Thanks.”  He rolled his eyes, but didn't have the energy to really protest.  Clutching the towel, he trudged toward the bathroom, retrieving the shampoo as he did.  Once inside, he peeled off the burnt and blackened suit.  The material was meant to offer some protection from all elements, up to a point.  Guess the explosions were a bit too much.  He huffed a humorless laugh as the once-fine material dropped to the floor in an unceremonious pile.  No salvaging that.  His wounds were visible again, purple bruises blooming across his cheeks and chest.  Well, he'd worry about it after he'd washed off.

Stepping into the shower, he let the hot water fall over him.  It stung, and he winced.  Hot, too damn hot.  Steam rose around him like smoke, and he could imagine himself once again surrounded by fire. It was hard to breathe...  Shit.  Gritting his teeth, he turned down the temperature.  The cold water was just as biting, but it jolted him out of his reverie, and at least it didn't carry memories of flames.  He braced a hand against the wall, droplets falling from the crimson strands that fell limply over his eyes.

It was done.  It was past, and there was nothing he... they... could do about it.  Goddamn it.  An entire sector... All of those people... And for what? What the hell had Shinra been thinking?  And he hadn't even seen it happen. The true extent... because he'd fucking fainted. Reno shuddered.  He didn't know if he was crying, or if it was just the steady, cold rain.  It's over, it's done. Thinking about it ain't gonna help.  Don't. You're a Turk.  You don't get the luxury of a conscience.  He sucked in a breath, a tremor running through his slender, bruised frame.  C'mon asshole, clean yourself up.

The body wash smelled like Rude.  Something citrusy, refined.  It felt strange, and just a little bit pleasing, to surround himself with that scent.  Reno focused on it, allowing himself a few moments to bask in the idea of it before remembering that he wasn't the only one in need of a shower. He gave his hair a cursory wash, much quicker than the time he'd normally spend.  Tea tree.  Rude knew him well. Rinsing off, he stepped out, drying his hair as best he could with the towel before wrapping it around his waist.  Glancing at his reflection in the mirror, he sighed.  He looked like shit.  Tired, slightly cleaner shit.  The burn on his cheek had returned, as had the one across his chest.  He didn't want to know what his back looked like.

“Alright, partner.  Your turn, yo,” he called as he stepped out.  After a moment, Rude appeared in the doorway, a rather large first aid kit in his hands.  

“First this.”  He held it up.

“Tch. I'm fine.”  He knew it wasn't convincing, given that his full, artful collection of wounds was now on full display.  Rude gave a grunt of disapproval, nodding toward the bed.  Reno sank down with a soft curse, glaring at the wall.  The injuries might not be as bad as they had been, but they still needed care.  He'd been allowed to leave the sick bay only because Rude had insisted he'd look after him.  He hissed as the other began applying salve to the resurfacing burns.  

“Stuff stinks, yo.  I just washed all that shit off!”  He got a noncommittal sound in return.  Rude was trying to be gentle, but the man didn't have the softest fingers.  What wasn't burned was bruised, and what wasn't bruised still felt tender.  Still, he'd rather have his partner's hands on him then the damn Shinra medics.  He trusted Rude, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't like the sensation of those fingers against his flesh.  Not that he would... or could... admit it.  He felt Rude press something to his back.  Gauze. Yeah, he figured that sore spot was probably bad... But he wasn't as bandaged up as he'd expected.  That was something, at least.   A sputter of protest escaped him when Rude suddenly gripped his chin, albeit loosely, turning his head so he could apply some salve to his right cheek.  Pale blue eyes met warm brown, and Reno's breath hitched in his throat.

“Quit squirming.”

“Mmmph,” he responded, his stomach making some odd sort of maneuver at being caught in that gaze, body stilling as new gauze was set over the injury.

“That's the worst of them.  Not great, but not too horrible.  Definitely better than before.”  Rude set the kit aside and rose to his feet. He nodded his head toward a black shirt by Reno's side.  “You can wear that.  Should be loose enough to be comfortable.  Booze in the kitchen.”

“Damn. Star treatment here, yo.  Bandages and booze.  You're the best, partner.”

There was a flash of something that might have been a grin before Rude turned toward the bathrrom and closed the door.  Reno picked up the indicated shirt, slipping it over his head.  It was a pajama top, and so it was meant to be loose even on Rude.  That meant Reno was nearly swimming in it.  The shoulders were too wide, hanging off his own awkwardly and lengthening the already overlong sleeves.  It hung low enough to easily cover him once he slipped out of the bath towel.

“Damn Behemoth,” he mumbled with a grin, rolling the sleeves up as best he could.  The fabric was silky enough that it didn't hurt against his skin, and … it too held Rude's scent.  How fuckin' domestic. He glanced toward the door, the sound of falling water emanating from beyond.  Outside of that, the room was silent.  Wthout Rude's solid, immediate presence to occupy them, his thoughts slowly started to drift again, back toward the ruins of Sector 7.  The soft smile faded from his lips.

He'd screwed up, overestimated those damn rebels.  He'd gotten his ass handed to him – him, the Turks' 2nd in Command, and because he hadn't been strong enough... And he'd almost lost his partner.  His stomach churned.  He'd almost lost Rude, and then he'd forced him to... To do the unthinkable.  His fingers curled into the supple material of the shirt's hem.  Rude... How could he act so casual about it?  Even for him, it was...  Too much, too damn much.  He hadn't escaped unscathed either, and Reno knew it. They'd both taken their share of hits today.  Dammit, the least he could do was look after his partner the same way he'd been looked after.  He'd love nothing more than to drink himself into oblivion, but he'd survive another few minutes of sobriety. He could do that fucking much.

His mind kept trying to turn itself toward Sector , and he forced himself to look around the room, to find something – anything else to focus on. It was a simply furnished room, all clean lines and uncluttered space.  A dark gray comforter with plum sheets. Sleek black drawers and nightstand, everything in its proper place.  The only things that didn't match, clashing noticeably with the rest of the room, were an odd collection of items from Wall Market that they'd picked up over the years.  Materia pop figures and colorful baubles from the various vending machines, and even a garishly colored fake flower lei from Costa del Sol.  Just a little quirky.  Like the man himself, once you got to know him.  Reno found himself grinning again despite his mood.

The bathroom door opened, startling him out of his memories.  He raised his head, and Rude quirked a brow in question, clad in nothing but a towel.

“What? Thought you were gonna get out of treatment?  Nuh-uh.  Not gonna get shitfaced before I see you bandaged up too, yanno?” Rude's injuries were nowhere near as bad as his own, but just as he'd suspected, the other hadn't gotten away unharmed.  His toned frame bore its fair share of scrapes and bruises, though he hadn't burned as much.

“Hmph. Fair enough.”  Rude dropped to the mattress next to Reno, causing it to dip precariously.  

“Goddamn tank, yo.”  That got an affirmative, and slightly smug-sounding noise.  The most severe injury was a cut along his left arm, though it was nearly hidden by the lines of the tattoo that wound its way around the limb.  Reno carefully smoothed the salve over it, followed by some gauze.  “Dunno how you ya do it... ya got hide like a dragon, yanno?”

“You got speed.  I got defense.”

“Yeah, yeah.  Rub it in, yo.”  He finished up by taping some gauze over the few burns Rude managed to get, mostly along his back.  After carefully pressing the tape along the curve of his muscle, he sat back.  “There.  Now we get to be uncomfortable and itchy all damn night. And now... We need liquor.  Lots of it.”

“Agreed.”

He padded out to the main room.  Rude followed a few moments later, having abandoned the towel for the matching bottoms to the shirt Reno wore.  There was an impressive collection of alcohol already set on the table. That must have been what Rude was up to while he'd been in the shower “Truly, you're prepared for any situation.”  He smirked as Rude poured them shots.  

“Be a shit Turk if I wasn't.”

For a time, silence hung between them.  What was there to say?  Both of them were thinking the same thoughts, but neither could put them into words.  So they took shots.  A bit of everything from a fancy Costa del Sol rum to some cheap flavored vodka.  Even on the best days, he was a lightweight, and it only took a few burning gulps for the heat to start spreading through his veins.  His thoughts grew fuzzy, but no less dark.  Across from him, Rude was as stoic as always, though his cheeks had a darker flush to them. Eventually they took to just passing bottles between them. How did he do it?  How could he be so goddamn calm.  Like it was just any other day, like these injuries were from any other fucking job? He turned to glare out the kitchen window.

The lights of Sector 8 shone beyond, the rain throwing distorted reflections on every surface.  Nothing looked amiss from this side. No smoke, no fires.  A car would slosh by every so often, and the occasional unlucky traveler braving the elements.  It was hard to imagine that the neighboring plate was simply... gone.  No, not gone.  In smoldering pieces on the ground below, scattered across the ruins of the slums.  Because of Shinra.  Because of them. He snarled wordlessly.

“Reno.” He jumped at the sound, head whipping around so fast he made himself dizzy.

“What?” The other held up a bottle, head inclining in silent question.

“How can ya be ssso goddamn calm?”  He clenched his fists, short nails digging into the soft flesh of his palms.  “I... We... Th' whole fucking plate.  Jusst like that.  Like it was just a nest of wererats, and not a whole fuckin' sssection of th' city!”

Rude's eyes narrowed, and he made a show of staring into the bottle, though a sharp hiss of breath escaped him.  “Like Tseng said,” he slurred after a beat.  “We hadn't done it, someone else would've.” He swirled alcohol around a moment before taking an impressive swig. “We did it our way.  Did what we could.”  He winced at the burn.

“I know that, yo!”  Reno rose, slamming his hand on the table and rattling the bottles.  “Ya think I don' fuckin' know that?”  His breathing came in ragged gasps, bruised ribs aching.  “Doesn't make it better!  This ain't what the Turks do!  We ain't th' best people in th' world but somethin' like that...”  His face was hot, and he could feel the teltale pinprick of tears at the corners of his eyes. Dammit.  When did he get to be this weak?  “What about Zirconiade?  Everyone... They're GONE because of what they did! Midgar.. the world.. It's ssstill here, Shinra's still here makin' shit decisions because they stopped that thing!  Because of the Turks!”  He ran a hand through his still-damp hair.  “They saved everyone.  And what did we do?  We...”  He shook his head.  “No... Fuck that.”

“We didn't even do shit.  You... Because I failed, you had to...” He tried to fight the tears, but it was useless.  He was the second in command.  He'd started the damn thing, he should have finished it.  Instead, he'd allowed himself to get beaten into unconsciousness, and left his partner to do the deed alone.  And that after nearly getting himself blown to hell.  Reno took a step back, swaying uncertainly.  The world was spinning, and he lost his balance.  And suddenly Rude was there, supporting him, strong hands gripping his shoulders.  When did he even..

“Reno. Enough.”

He managed to stand on his own two feet, though still with the other bracing him, as he waited for the room to stop spinning, for his ears to stop ringing.

“Yeah...” His voice sounded strange to him.  Shaky. “Yeah.” Gripping Rude's arm, Reno turned to face him. Or rather, his shoulder.  Goddamn skyscraper of a human.  He sighed, resting his forehead against one tattooed pec.  “'M'sorry...  It was my fault, yanno....”

“Reno.” His name rumbled in Rude's chest like distant thunder.  “It's not. You were down there longer.  And held your own.  Pretty damn impressive from where I was sitting.”

He shook his head.  He hadn't done a good enough job on his own to keep them from taking down the helicopter.  Shit, some superior he'd been.

“Thought... Thought I'd lost ya there for a hot second, yanno?  On top of every other shit thing... I thought...”

“Gonna take more than that.  Gotta be flashier, too.”

“Flashier than a fuckin' flaming helicopter crash?”  He felt Rude shrug in response, and actually gave a small, huffed laugh at that. This close, he could feel Rude's heartbeat.  A strong, steady pulse. His own was fluttering like a caged bird in comparison.  Reno closed his eyes, trying to focus on that rhythm. The only thing keeping him standing, keeping him grounded, was Rude.  That's always how it went.  Ever since they'd first teamed up, so many years ago.  The man was like a pillar, and the irony of that thought didn't escape him.  He didn't know if he wanted to laugh or cry at it. Rude rumbled something at him, and he blinked, raising his head.  

“Huh?”

“Said I'm still here.”  He squeezed Reno's uninjured shoulder.  “And I'm gonna keep bein' here.  And.  You need to get some rest. Now.  It's late.  C”mon, you can have the bed, I'm feeling generous.”

“Wow, lucky me.  Your generosity is astoundin', yanno?”  He kept his tone light, even though he wanted to protest.  It was futile, and his partner was right.  This day had been a week.  But if Rude left him, and if he closed his eyes... what would he see?  What would he be left with?The thought scared him.  He felt Rude start to move... and suddenly he didn't want that.  Not yet...    

“Wait...” Shit, when did his voice sound that small?  “Just... stay like this a little longer, will ya?” I don't want you to leave. I don't wanna be alone.  Damn it, he was being stupid.  He was drunk, his body hot and sore.  He'd been all those things before, but not like this.  Not combined with the storm of anger, fear, and sorrow in his mind.  And Rude... God he was so close.  Shit, they'd never been like this before.  Close.  Just them.  

Stop thinking stupid shit.  You've fucked up enough.  

Reno raised his head, pale beryl meeting deep chocolate as Rude stared down at him, unreadable.

I almost lost him...  

And then, before he could think, he raised up on his toes, crushing his lips against Rude's.  For a few fluttering heartbeats, it was amazing.  And then his whisky-soaked brain caught up with his body and he jerked back, panic buzzing through his entire frame.  Rude blinked down at him, dark eyes wide and lips parted just so.

“I'm... sorry, yo.  I didn't...”  Of all the fucking times.  You're fucking drunk and the world is falling down around you, and you're gonna destroy the one goddamn pillar you got left. Some goddamn professional you are.

Shit, shit shit shit shit-

And then Rude's lips were on his again and all of his frenzied worries collapsed in on themselves.  He closed his eyes, taught muscles relaxing, melting slowly into the other's arms.  When Rude finally pulled away, he left Reno blinking, thoughts swirling fuzzily and bumping into one another.  He opened and closed his mouth a few times without any sound, let alone words.  “Whhh?” he finally managed.

“Wanted to do that for a while now, actually.”

“Y-you did?  But I thought...”  He struggled to nudge his thoughts back in line.  It was like herding cats.  “Thought ya... Shit, I thought ya didn't swing this way...”

“Swing both ways.”

“Then why... Why the fuck didn't ya say something, asshole?”

“Didn't think I was your type.  Why didn't you?  Idiot.”

“I was tryin'a respect you!” “By eavesdropping on my dates?”

“That was one time, yo!”

“So you say.”  But he was grinning.

Reno blinked at him, mouth agape, trying to take it all in.  He gave up, letting his head droop forward to rest against Rude's chest once more.  “Fuckin' bastard,” he muttered into the warmth of his skin.

Rude's frame jerked with what might have been a laugh, if he was prone to such a thing.  “You wanna argue about it more, save it for morning.”  He made to usher Reno toward the bedroom again.  “Now, sleep.  You're practically delirious.  Don't want that.”

This time, Reno allowed himself to be led, dropping to the mattress with a groan.  As soon as he stopped being vertical, his body was more than happy to remind him just how exhausted he was.  Oh, he was going to be in pain in the morning. And have one hell of a hangover.  And... the darkness, the horror, was still there, on the edge of his mind. It would always be there, a part of him now, and he knew it.  But for a little while, at least, he had something to keep it at bay.  Even if whatever happened was just for tonight.

“Hey. You still plannin' on sleepin' on the couch, yo?”

“Hmmm.” Rude made a show of pretending to consider.  “Only if you don't move your scrawny drunk ass over.”

He let Rude slide past him with a sigh of exasperation that was only a little forced.  Once the taller man had settled, Reno lay down again. He felt Rude's back against his, a firm unwavering presence.  He took a deep breath, letting his eyes drift closed.  For now, in this moment, he could breathe again.  Their world had changed. Irreparably.  Soon, they'd have to pick themselves up and step back through the door of Shinra HQ.  They'd have to face the consequences of their actions, and so would all of Shinra.  

They couldn't change the past, they couldn't stop the destruction of Sector 7.  That blood was always going to be on their hands.  He could only hope that the new President would never ask anything so terrible of the Turks again.  Rufus had done his share of scheming, but he seemed to have a cooler head on his shoulders than the old man.  And they still had each other.  He'd screwed up tonight, yet his partner was still here.  Rude was his pillar, the one who kept him from collapsing completely.  He only hoped he could be the same for Rude.

[cloudstriffes]

Final Fantasy VII Remake Review

I’ve officially finished the game and I have soooo many thoughts and theories and emotions, so imma jump right in about what I loved, what I wanted more of, what I disliked and what I want to see for part 2. This is gonna be long, but Spoilers below the cut! (also I am not including anything about ships in this)

What I enjoyed/loved:

Characters:

Like with FFXV, I think this games biggest strengths lie with it’s characters (unlike FFXV, I think the story has the potential to be strong too, but I’ll get to that later).

It goes without saying that for me this is the best characterization of Cloud Strife since the original game. I really love the character development we see with him just within part one (we see him go from lovable jerk to really caring about his companions and making the effort to listen to them and comfort them, even if it’s not easy for him and he struggles a lot). I really have a soft spot for characters like that and I think it’s done really well here.

Tifa Lockhart is BEST GIRL! I have so much love for this girl and she’s hands down my favorite to play as (I even made her the leader in the fights because I can don’t @ me). Tifa shows that you can have your cake and eat it too, in that she can be gentle, considerate, kind, and even shy at times, but she still takes names and kicks butt; she doesn’t have to sacrifice who she really is to be considered a bad*ss female character. I think her character is greatly expanded on here than in the original and we get to see just how everything affects her and not just Cloud (which is important since they have been through a lot of the same traumatizing events).

I always thought Barret Wallace was an interesting character, especially seeing his backstory in the original game (something I can’t wait for in the next installment). Here, it’s down 10x better and I love every second he’s on screen. I’m very excited to see how that Black and White morality view he has on the world will be broken down and really put a strain on how he view himself and the things he’s done. I also adore to the heavens his relationship with little Marlene. Also the way he starts to Dad towards Cloud 😭😭😭

Now on the the best character of the entire game. Mere words cannot express how much I adore Aerith Gainsborough. Her characterization is a god-send that I definitely wouldn’t have appreciated had I not looked into other FFVII properties and saw the disservice they do to her. Fortunately for us, in Remake, Aeirth is everything we originally loved about her and more. She’s got a mischievous and sassy side that I adore and just love how she plays off of Cloud. Their interactions were so sweet and genuine and got quite a few laughs out of me.

Other characters:

Um where to start. First of all, Avalanche. I can relate to Jessie on spiritual level because I too thirst for Cloud Strife. All said and done though, he characterization is great and she’s a lot of fun. Her backstory is good too and her relationship with the rest of Avalanche is very genuine. And I love Biggs and Wedge with all my heart. I overall think the expanded character development for these 3 is spot on and really makes their “deaths” hit hard.

Marlene Wallace is a precious baby and I can cry all day about how precious her scenes with Barret are😭😭😭😭

Red XIII is the best boy and he’s hilarious. I can’t wait to delve more into his backstory when we get to Cosmo Canyon.

The Side characters in Wall Market are some of the best in the game. They're all interesting and I really hope we see more of them. 

I hate everyone at Shinra HQ but also Reeve is a good boy, but also screw Hojo x10, but also Scarlet can step on me, but also THE TURKS (where tf is Elena😭), but also SCREW HOJO, bust also that Kunsel/Crisis Core reference tho, but also Rufus Shinra CAN GET IT.

I said it before, but Sephiroth is actually very intimidating (not that he wasn’t in his other appearances, especially Advent Children) but hoo boy, the way we actually see how it terrifies Cloud really makes it stick for me. Sephiroth can get it too don’t @ me.

Story/Other:

I know a lot of long-time and even recent fans won’t agree, but I thought the story was very, very good. Don’t get me wrong, it’s flawed, but would I have honestly been happy with a shot-for-shot high definition update with some expansion here and there? Yeah probably, but I know how that story goes. 

I think doing a complete 180 to the story we know is a huge risk that I have hopes will pay off. I really love the idea that by changing fates of certain characters for the better (ie. Zack, Biggs, maybe Jessie and Wedge), Cloud and the others may have doomed themselves to an even worse fate with Sephiroth and I absolutely love that I don’t know where it’s going to go from here. I mean, I sure we’ll still get our fan favorites like Costa del Sol, the Gold Saucer, Yuffie, Vincent, Cid and ELENA, but we’re in for so many twist and turns and whatever the heck Zack being alive will do to the universe (or alternate universe? Idk I have theories).

My favorite areas in the game were the Sector 7 Slums, Aerith’s House, Wall Market, the Collapsed Expressway and Shinra HQ.

I think the voice acting is good, and for some character’s it’s great. The main cast (Cloud, Tifa, Aerith, Barret, Red XII and Avalanche) is VERY GOOD and the major side characters are good too. I already know there is discourse about Sephiroth and Zack’s English VA’s so I’m not sharing my opinion right now on that. 

Also the soundtrack is god-tier. I cannot stop listening to “Hollow” and hearing updated renditions of tracks from the original soundtrack somehow made me nostalgic for a game I only started playing last year. It’s top-notch imo.

What I didn’t like:

There’s nothing in the game I genuinely hated to the point where it ruined things for me.

I did enjoyed the second half of the sidequest for Sector 5 Slums (when you have Tifa and Barret back in your party), but the other sidequest were either annoying or hit and miss.

There’s also the issue with padding and certain areas seeming to go on forever. I really liked the Train Graveyard, for the first 20 minutes and after that it kinda dragged on too long for me (we had like two major boss fights in that one area😩) especially when the next major story part was the drop of the Sector 7 plate. I did love the little scene with Aerith waiting to be found; that was really good.

I also am confused about the back and forth about how much Aerith may know about her and the others’ fates. At times, it seems like she knows much more than she’s letting on and other times, she either really doesn’t know or she subconsciously is aware of something, but I guess it’s to be revealed.

Enough people have commented about the graphics and npcs in certain scenes (you know what I mean) so imma just say that at best it’s hilarious and at worse it’s very distracting.

What I want to see next and my overall rating for part 1:

As expressed before, I’m excited to see how much the story diverges and if the Arbiters of fate are really gone. I just feel like there’s more than Sephiroth pulling the strings here, but who knows. I also can’t wait for more references to Crisis Core (if ya’ll show me Kunsel I’ll cry) and I definitely hope we get more scenes of Zack and Cloud in the, I guess, alternate reality? Also playable Red XIII and If ya’ll think i’m thirsty for the characters in this game, just want until Vincent freakin’ Valentine shows up. 

All and all, I think I can confidently rate part one with a solid 9/10. It’s flawed, but it’s going in such an unexpected direction I didn’t anticipate that I’m left hungry for more. The characters are stellar and the expansion of certain parts of the game is amazing. I cannot wait for part two guys. I hope you all found something to enjoy too. Now I’m in the process of replaying it along with some other games I need to finish. I’ll still be tagging spoilers for now (ffvii remake spoilers)

[kainenmarlowe]

Deprived

It was close to midnight by the time Kainen reached his destination: a placid and tucked-away beach a few malms out from Costa del Sol. He was quick to unsling his pack from one shoulder and his polearm from the other. The former was allowed to fall where it may, the latter was thrust butt-end into the soft La Noscean sand, where it stood upright for only a second before tipping and falling unceremoniously to the ground. The display garnered only a glance over the shoulder and a roll of the eyes. At the end of a day as arduous as this, the only thing occupying his mind was the quiet swim ahead. If this didn’t clear his head, nothing would.

With a series of clicks and snaps, the buckles and fasteners of the hunter’s leather armor were released and it, too, sloughed lazily to the earth to cover his footprints. The sand could be swept off easily enough; it was the mud and dried blood from earlier which would be a chore. But that was a problem for tomorrow.

Only a few fulms out from the current reach of the tide, Kainen rolled back on his heels and fell in reverse with abandon, letting the soft sand cushion his rear. He brought his leg up with a groan to pull a filthy boot off his right foot, then again for his left. One hand then reached up to grab the collar of his undershirt and - in a swift, singular motion - he whipped the whole thing off and over his head before tossing it in the vague direction of where his armor lay. A protesting sigh followed as he lifted himself back to a standing position. The buckle at his waist was released with a ‘click’ and his pants collapsed around his ankles. The underpants, however, were staying on. Anonymity was hardly cause to abandon dignity. Besides, Halone was still watching.

At least, he hoped she was.

Kainen took a moment to enjoy the feeling of the warm air on his skin and the light coastal breeze which fluttered about the tips of his hair. The scent of salt on the wind instantly sparked his memory, triggering a poignant recollection of a better time - and for the briefest moment, his worries gave way to sweet nostalgia. The feeling was instantly fleeting, of course, but it did give him enough cause to consider the hike out a worthwhile one. He could feel his tension unwinding already.

A series of strides brought him waist-deep in the surf, and he dove forward into the first wave that greeted him. The cooler temperature, the washed-out sound, the weightlessness - it all proved to be instantly therapeutic. With a powerful stroke, he shot forward against the flow. Then again and again until the sea floor retreated below him. He curled into a ball before kicking his feet toward the surface to propel himself deeper. The water offered little resistance, for he was well-acquainted with its nature and knew precisely how to bend himself to best comply with its immutable laws. With each stroke, he sought to swim further and further out from the shore.

As soon as the changing pressure in his ears became noticeable, Kainen oriented himself skyward and had breached the surface with only a few minimal motions. The raven locks now covering his face like a mop were flung back with a swift jerk of the head, allowing him to observe the scene a significant distance from shore.

Stillness surrounded - the stars both hanging static above and dancing along the water’s surface below. A glance cast about revealed neither spoken nor creature in the visible vicinity. The only sounds were that of the water: the distant lapping of waves against the shore, Kainen’s own arms treading delicately back and forth, and the arc of droplets he had sent soaring overhead now pattering back to the sea. Significantly more relaxed, he took a lengthy breath in and rolled to float idly on his back - his gaze left to search the tapestry of stars above.

“This is not so bad,” he thought, well aware that it was only a feeble attempt to convince himself that a day slogging through muck to slay scalekin because some wine patrician wanted a unique flavor of handbag was anything but a far cry from the halcyon dream made real he had lived in Ishgard. He searched the sky, as if it would hold some sort of validation for him. The stars simply twinkled back, indifferent.

“This is...for the best,” was the justification he settled on, then. Out here, those around him weren’t susceptible to the danger which followed him. And they weren’t susceptible to his evidently harmful brand of social incompetence. Or his abject impotence in carrying out his vocation. They wouldn’t suffer for his failure any more.

“At least the populace at large knows not of my misdeeds. Not even the rest of the Order, it would seem. Only those present at the hearing know. And perhaps a handful of other individuals… Still, out here I cannot bring such hurt to the good folk of Eorzea. Or the people I considered my friends. I can simply disappear into obscurity. Indeed, this is a fate befitting a Sinner.”

Brow furrowed and jaw clenched as he allowed his introspection to run unchecked.

“But what of the impacted and afflicted in the Brume? Surely they will continue to sling their ire undeservedly at the Pillars, or worse - the Dravanians. Was it really best for the Order to have erred on the side of leniency for the sake of clandestinity?”

As the dissonance mounted, Kainen let out a heavy exhale through his nostrils - until no breath remained in his lungs. Having relinquished his buoyancy, he allowed himself to slip beneath the water’s surface and drift slowly downward. His train of thought followed.

“At the time, I was willing to let my dearest friends beg for Halone’s mercy on my behalf. For what? My inadequacy saw them punished for it. Objectively, the greater good would have been to hang me up in the central square at noon. They could place a signpost on my grave: ‘This man allowed your families to die. Sleep well knowing the Fury has wrought her justice.’ At least tensions would have eased and the people could more easily work toward the peace they deserve.”

One minute passed. Then another. The shimmering sky from before was naught but the faintest glow down here, and before long, the inky blackness had become so thick, the outline of the wispy raven hair in his periphery could no longer be discerned against the encroaching void.

Five minutes. He should have touched bottom by now. Perhaps the movement of the tide was enough to keep him suspended indefinitely, or perhaps the current had sucked him out further than expected...

Regardless, he was content to savor the sensations, or lack thereof. Heightened though they were, all of his senses had now become almost completely muted - and not just the five primary ones. His body temperature could be ice cold or feverishly hot for all he could tell. His limbs could be anywhere, or they could have simply vanished alongside his track of time. He had not drawn or released breath in some time, and his pulse had slowed to a crawl.

His inner monologue followed suit - receding into restful silence, save for a last, lingering thought:

“At least mother did not live to be disappointed. She only knew me at my best. For as inadequate as I have become, at least she could claim to have been proud until the end.”

The small comfort afforded by this reassurance was enough to tip Kainen’s mind into balance upon the fragile fulcrum that held him at the point between consciousness and lack thereof. It was this sustained twilight which he had been trained for years to achieve and maintain, even amidst the chaos of battle. Though it had been well over two cycles now since he had last slipped into this state, the deprivatory environment into which he had unwittingly allowed his own distractions to lead him ended up providing the perfect conditions for an unplanned recurrence.

In maintaining this state with no temporal articulation - allowing himself to fall neither to unconsciousness nor waking - all distinctions between now, earlier, and later had drifted away; all perception had dissolved into a nebulous, fuzzy ether; and, perhaps most importantly, his troubles, fears, and preoccupations retreated like waves from a rocky shoreline. It was in this neutral, timeless dreamscape - free of waking life’s miresome web of anxieties and pursuits - that stillness was at its most absolute. And it was at the peak of this stillness where Kainen felt a presence. It was one which had not appeared or made itself known; rather, it seemed to have been uncovered upon the washing away of corporeal sensation. The imperceptible static of his current consciousness began to coalesce into discarnate echoes; and eventually, into a synchronous, discernible notion:

“O what great cowardice is on display, with thy writhing and thy self-dismay!”

It was a ‘voice’ of the same formless quality as one’s own inner monologue, yet the thought was not his. The language wasn’t even his native and singular Eorzean, but the message was clearly understood, having come from within. The cadence was achingly slow, and its tone wholly derisive.

“Canst thou feel my ire, o knight of men? Tis not a death in service of my kin which I rue. Nay, tis my afterlife which I resent - here as part of thee, who hath since proven wholly unfit to carry my essence.”

Kainen could feel himself teetering at the brink of that familiar moment when one can feel their dream collapsing around them, yielding to a swift and inevitable awakening. But something was holding him there in that liminal space - and he couldn’t tell if it was his own force of will, or something else entirely.

“Art thou a man? Art thou a mouse? Or art thou but a foolish child, resigned to cast thy litany of laments into night after dispassionate night? Didst thou not think the warrior’s path to be fraught with the trials of thy hopes and fears laid bare upon the rocks?”

Though formless and voiceless, the presence certainly emanated a sort of hostility - one which Kainen was eager to escape from. Any attempt to open his eyes, thrash his body about, or otherwise awaken, though, was utterly futile. He was paralyzed. Senseless and unable to control himself in any manner, he felt completely subject to the will of this indeterminate entity.

“Still, thy temples stand amidst the smoulders, do they not? Art thou not capable of this selfsame resilience? Or dost thou revel in thine self-imposed exile? Tell me, knight of man, what is it that thou seek? For all which now lies in the grave of thy pride is a deplorable heap of misery.”

Kainen made a conscious attempt to speak or even to give a thoughtform reply, but it was for naught. He was completely helpless. A tightening sensation began to permeate the space and at that point, a dire realization emerged: he was still underwater.

“If thou art so resigned to withdrawal in the face of adversity, so be it. Thus is my directive, then: retreat not to thy tenuous climes of finite security. Retreat instead...inward. As thou hast done in times past. For while thy mettle hath faltered, mine burns fiercer than ever!”

“Abandon thy perceptions and surrender thyself to me!”

“Forsake thine eyes!!”

Though entirely existing within Kainen’s subconscious, the voice was thundering. Its echoes reflected infinitely off of distant, nonexistent walls, gradually morphing into a cacophonous, booming dissonance which only served to intensify the heightening sensations of pressure and exponentially increasing panic. The chorus decayed, finally, leaving in its wake an acute, high-pitched ringing that intensified in equal measure with the suffocating weight of his now-collapsing consciousness.

So this was to be it, then. This was how he was going to die. Not in defense of country or comrade; nor fulfilled and surrounded by love. It was to occur unseen and unceremoniously; an accident of absent-minded caprice and nothing more.

Indeed, this is a fate befitting a Sinner.

A cooling air could be felt caressing his skin, then. A concrete sensation, at last. Reflexively, a sharp breath was drawn in, triggering a harsh cough in turn as a mix of salty water and mucus washed back in his throat. Kainen could feel himself expelling, but into what was beyond him - at least until the small bursts of light behind his eyelids coalesced into colors, then shapes. Focus eventually came to reeling mind and body, both, and his eyesight aligned to take in the scene.

He was on the beach again; and standing, curiously enough. It was still nighttime, that much was clear - though he caught no indication of how much time had passed. A wave brushed against his heel and enveloped his foot to ankle-depth, prompting the sand to gently give way beneath. Beleaguered by stimuli, he groaned as he took a few weary steps out of the surf and onto dry sand - casting a sidelong glance to find his clothes, pack, and weapon a good distance down the shoreline. As he began the slog to rejoin his personal effects, he breathed a heavy sigh - behind it, as much relief as was exhaustion.

Though quite content to simply breathe air again, Kainen couldn’t help but entertain the thoughts and implications emerging in the back of his mind: how much of what had occurred was real, or was it entirely imagined? A hallucination, perhaps, or simply an overactive imagination?

He hearkened back to the training he had undergone eight-or-so years prior, in preparation to join the Dragonsong War. Aside from the plentiful physical honing were the mental exercises imparted by his instructors: interstitial meditation, focal release, sensory deprivation... The results were undeniable, especially when aided and amplified by the equipment and slowed physiology they had granted him. But nothing like this had ever occurred. No hallucinations. No voices. No loss of memory or consciousness. He had always been in control.

...Right?

[spyder-m]

Tell Me More

Summary: Zack wasn't expecting to run in to anyone else while on standby at Costa Del Sol. Certainly not anyone who would leave such a lasting impression on him. Written for Day 2 of the Cloti/Zerith Endless Summer Week. Prompt 'Summer Nights.' 

 A/N: Originally written for Day 2 of the Cloti/Zerith Endless Summer Week, only sharing now because I’m bad at Tumblr.

Ao3 / FF.net / Twitter

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Summer heat, boy and girl meet...

Zack's legs ached as he dipped down for another squat, the sun beating relentlessly against his shoulders.

He wasn't sure rep what he was up to; he had long since lost count; but that wasn't important. The burning in his thighs was a distraction, a way to pass the time.

After everything that happened with Angeal and Genesis, Zack had been put on standby, a mandatory sabbatical to Costa Del Sol, and couldn't take on any missions.

Shinra had made the order, claiming to have his wellbeing in mind, but they didn't seem to realise the mental strain it was putting him through.

He wanted to dive back into his work, to put all of this behind him. That way, he could preserve Angeal's memory and teachings, maybe even give him closure.

But the higher-ups remained firm in their decision.

They must have seen him as a liability.

Zack had tried reaching out to Cloud with his PHS, hoping to live vicariously through any action his friend saw, but there was only so much he could tell him about routine patrols and guard duty under the plate.

To Zack, having that contact was almost worse than being completely off the grid. Not enough to quell his loneliness but make him long for the close interaction all the more. To be in the same space as another person.

He wasn't completely alone. Members of the Turks would stop periodically to check up on him. But it wasn't the same.

Without Soldier duties to pass the time, Zack had resolved to focus on training.

If nothing else, the beach climate gave a flair to his routine drills. There was a tide for him to swim against, sand that was harder to run across, heat testing his endurance and mental strength.

Cissnei had found him in the middle of a workout on many occasions. Sighing and saying that he was supposed to be here for some R&R.

Zack could only scoff, wondering how he was supposed to relax when the Turks were breathing down his neck?

Yes, Costa Del Sol was beautiful. He had enjoyed the first few days being able to swim and bask in the sunlight.

But, being confined to Shinra's private section of the beach, the luxury started to wane. It felt like something he would appreciate a lot more with some company.

Beat, Zack slumped back against the sand, breaths carrying heavily from his throat.

His gaze lifted to the clear, endless sky above, having to raise his hand to shield his eyes from the sun's glare. It was a sight and sensation he was still, strangely unaccustomed to. An unobstructed blue, no steel plate stretching for miles.  

Throat thick with saliva, Zack turned onto his side, wondering if perhaps he had worn himself out enough to sleep off a few more hours. It would be a great way to pass the time. Not to mention, the rest would do him good.

Relaxing beneath the shade of a nearby palm tree, Zack focused on the flow of water in and out from the shore, on gathering the steady, calming pattern of his breathing, hoping to expel everything that had been weighing upon his mind.

Just as he had been about to drift off, his Mako-heightened senses narrowed in on the unmistakable pad of footsteps carrying across the beach. Zack's nose wrinkled, frustrated at the distraction.

At first, he turned on his side, stubbornly seeking out sleep. He figured it was one of the Turks, coming to check on him. That maybe they would leave him alone.

But, having grown familiar with the unique nuances of each Turks' movement, Zack realised these footsteps seemed different... lighter, a grace to the person's gait.

They were a woman's footsteps, but not Cissnei's; he would have recognised otherwise. Then... who?

Zack sat up, his snapping in the direction of the sound. This unfamiliar presence had caught his interest, the curiosity gnawing at him. He knew he wouldn't be able to nap now. Not that that bothered Zack, any shift in his routine was a welcome one.

Moving towards the beach carefully, with all the stealth of a Soldier First Class, Zack held his breath as if afraid his presence alone would make her vanish.

A light blue dress fluttered against her bare ankles. Wavy, brown hair tied into a braid, loose strands hanging around her neck. She was smoothing out a towel, humming tunelessly to herself.

Zack gazed on, transfixed. He wondered if, the heat and exertion from his workout had him hallucinating. Still in disbelief, he rubbed vigorously at his eyes, dark splotches bleeding into his vision.

Yet, she remained in his sight. Solid, real.

Not having seen another, regular person in what felt like days, Zack was overjoyed.

Starved for a conversation, he stumbled to his feet, muscles like jelly thanks to his earlier torture.

Retrieving his towel, Zack draped it over his shoulders. He grimaced, conscious that his workout had probably left him sweaty and gross. He took solace in hoping that the pump would at least accentuate his muscles.

Undeterred, Zack sauntered over, lips settling into a smile he knew could leave any girls' knees weak.

"Hey there." He greeted. "I wasn't expecting to see anyone else around here."

Zack's voice trailed off, his breath catching as he was swallowed by the vibrant green of her eyes, a sight not unlike the sunlight billowing off of the stretch of water before them. Pulling back, he took in the rest of her features, the curl of her bangs framing them.

His charm and bravado dissipating, heat pooled in Zack's cheeks as all the trace of the next words he had been hoping to form slipped from his tongue.

What was wrong with him? Was he... nervous?

No, he didn't get nervous around girls.

Zack was suddenly beginning to remember his earlier work out and how dry his throat had gotten. It was rare that he was lost for words.

Her eyes crinkled in amusement, but she did not answer. As if sensing his unease and reveling it, leaving him to stew in the awkward silence. Offering nothing more than the lift of a delicate brow, a sign as much that she was intrigued, listening.

Somehow, the fact that she had him rattled and was so effortlessly teasing him, only intrigued Zack more. There was something different about her.

"I- uh, that is to say..."

Panicking, Zack's eyes darted around, hoping something nearby could spur on the conversation. His eyes settled eventually on the bottle in her hands; the liquid she was lathering into her shoulder.

"Need a hand?"

.

It was odd, though, not the first time Zack had found himself drawn so quickly and intensely to someone. He and Cloud had hit it off right away, but there was something about her.

Perhaps there was an urgency and excitement in knowing that they may never see each another again, understanding how brief their time together was.

Maybe it was a by-product of being in such a romantic, unfamiliar place or having been deprived meaningful human contact for so long, but everything between them seemed amplified; his head rushing at the slightest touch of her hand.

Perhaps he had become so stifled by routine that he was, almost defiantly, bucking against what was normal. Maybe that was why he had been so for forward with her. Even more so than usual. Eager to earn about and know as much about her as soon as possible.

Her name was Aerith and Zack was shocked to learn that, just like him, she was from Midgar.

With all the time he spent on missions and patrols, surely, they would have run into each other at some point. There was no way that Zack would have missed such a drop-dead beauty.

It made more sense when she explained that she lived in the Sector 5 slums with her mom and spent most of her time in the Church tending to the flowers there.

Soldier were usually topside and didn't go below the plate unless there was reason to. He thought about asking if she'd seen Cloud around before, but remembered he'd be wearing his helmet while on patrol, so it was probably a silly question.

Still, he was surprised to hear that flowers could grow in Midgar. They'd always been a rare sight in Midgar.

The more he learnt, the more hope Zack gained that there could be something between them. Whatever the reason, Zack didn't think of it as playful flirting, something not to be taken too seriously. He wanted to be closer to her.

Together, they walked across the shoreline, cooling their feet in the water. She lost her footing as a clump of sand give way, bumping accidentally against his arm.

With a teasing grin, Zack extended his hand for her to take. At first, she scoffed and turned her head, folded her arms in defiance. It proved too difficult to contain the laughter bubbling in her throat and she relented.

Her hand was soft and dainty, fitting comfortably in his own. Though he could feel tiny groves and cuts across her fingers, calloused skin on the flat of her palm. Did she fight with a staff of some kind?

As Zack asked her questions, he was caught in the way her gaze would lift, looking fondly into the distance. Her expression lighting up as she spoke about the children that she visited at the nursery by her house, or the restaurant she sometimes helped wait tables at.

It was cute.

Strangely, when he tried to broach what she was doing in Costa del Sol, she grew quiet, her body folding in on itself. Zack scratched awkwardly at the back of his head, sensing he had touched a nerve.

The dip in conversation stewed into palpable silence. Wincing, Zack's eyes carried to distant waves crashing upon the horizon, hopeful for a distraction. Above the spray of ocean water, her voice rose.

"So pretty..."

"Huh?"

"Your eyes."

"Why not take a closer look?" Zack grinned, facing her straight on.

The Mako infused in Soldier's gave their eyes a bright, ethereal glow. For some, they were unnerving, difficult to stare directly into. Almost a reminder of the danger and overwhelming power flowing through them.

Yet, Aerith only seemed drawn to his as she shuffled nearer, carefully studying each tiny fleck of blue or green. Zack couldn't recall a time held such a prolonged, unbroken gaze with someone.

Her face lingered close enough to his own that Zack could make out the daylight flickering through her hair, the pores of her skin and pout of her lips. He realised that if he just shifted slightly forward, he could easily take them with his own.

Zack swallowed, imaging how soft and warm they would feel, instinctively puckering his own as he edged closer. His eyes began to flutter closed as he felt her breath caressing his own.  Was she moving closer too?    

The sound of a helicopter touching down brought them snapping back to attention, disturbing the peaceful oasis they had found.

Zack rolled his eyes. It was bad enough that he couldn't get a second of peace from the Turks. Now they had ruined this moment. He turned toward Aerith, greeted by an expression of dread washing over her; her shoulders dropping.

"Hey, what's wrong?" He asked, touching his hand over her back.

She flinched, her lips parting to answer, but her voice faltering. Zack frowned as he recognised Tseng stepping out of the helicopter, glancing in their direction. Beside him, Aerith stiffened.

"I- I'm sorry, Zack. But I have to go."

"Oh." He said, hoping the disappointment didn’t carry noticeably in his voice. "Okay."

Beginning to step away, Aerith's hands wrung together at her waist, seeming somewhat begrudging in her decision.

"Will I see you again?" She asked.

"Of course." Zack nodded, confident. "I'll make sure of it!"

He could track her church down. Maybe Cloud had seen it.

"That's a relief," she sighed. "I look forward to it. Well, until then."

As she turned away, Zack was struck by the urge not to let her go.

Yet, he felt powerless to intervene, shaken by her apparent ties to the Turks and what they could mean. Even as a First-Class Soldier, there were things about Shinra he didn't know. This felt like something far beyond him.

Clasping Aerith's shoulder, Tseng guided her into the Helicopter, offering Zack little more than a dip of his head as the door was shut behind him.