#takes place after endwalker 6.0

[berryzawati]

Ardbert lives AU - part 1.

Pulled away from death's bitter embrace, a certain adventurer finds himself in a new yet strangely familiar environment...

To be continued.

[bi-disastersoup]

Into the Void - Part 1

Welcome to a new VN series. These ones are much shorter, so I won't be doubling up the images.

Greatly recommended you read Shifters first if you haven't, or some of the stuff covered in this series might not make a ton of sense.

very mild CW for emetophobia and also spoilers for patch 6.2 MSQ (takes place right after the second fight with Scarmiglione)

Let's go.

Strap in, ya'll.

[karoiseka]

10) Stable

((So, This week was a CHORE to get through with work, and I barely had time to write, much less get the screenshots I wanted, especially for this one, so I decided to just submit all of them on time, and have been taking screenshots today while I have a bit of time.

This is for end of 6.0 Endwalker, so major spoilers for that! [and a scene I've wanted to screenshot for a long time now, and will do a bigger version of later]))

Grey stone beneath her feet, grey cracked stone her head, and surrounded by the most brilliant diamond speckled magenta-purple sky, Karo stood. She has made it this far–had forged on despite everything–and still her destination lay so close–yet unreachable. 

The amber stone nearly burned in her hand, clutching it tightly as she stared at Meteion, fire burning in her heart as Ardbert repeated the mantra. 

You must forge on. Never give up hope. We are still here, and will be heard. You are not alone. 

The Echo washed over her, even here in this place depleted of aether, as Y’shtoa’s words reminded her that she could not summon them back to her side. Not–

Yet.  Voice after voice came to her, memories skipping over, searching for the phrase that she needed.  Clarity as Hydaeyn’s voice next whispered in the ear of memory, and Karo's eyes snapped open–laughing desperately as Azem’s summoning circle appeared around her, Emet-Selch’s voice ringing in her internal ear.  Only two of the seven circles glowed in the darkness, before pillars of brilliant light lit the smug face of her enemy. 

The light faded–and two forms towered before her in this time and place so far removed from where she had seen them before. Turning to glance at her, one with enthusiastic joy and echoing her laughter, the other with a deep ever suffering fondness, Karo could feel her heart starting to race.  A melody teasing her senses, just beyond reach for the moment, humming, buzzing in her mind.

As Emet and Hythlodaeus introduced themselves to Meteion, Karo’s laughter continued to bubble up.  Surely she seemed mad, but the joy and hope was slowly bringing color back to her face.  Was this the friendship that Ikarus had treasured so much reflecting down the shards of their soul?  Emet’s theatrics seared into her soul; she would never forget him–or Hythlodaeus–in any of the forms or places that she had met them both.  Hades, the Dark to her Light, she somehow still looked to him with the same fondness, preferring to remember the man she met in Elpis versus the tortured soul of her present day, and the one that had caused her so much pain.

Hythlodaeus called her out of her thoughts as Emet-Selch finished his ultimatum to the bringer of the Final Days.  They were there, called by her, to help.  And they would, in the way they knew best how–bidding her to form the path that they would set their magic to create.  His eyes met hers–topaz to sapphire–and Karo prayed, the song’s melody in her mind starting to clear.

“Ours is the wisdom to weave the fabric of reality!” Hythlodaeus’ melodic voice called out, breaking her reverie.

“Ours is the power to create!” two hands raised and with a snap! the barren stone erupted into a riot of color as Elpis flowers covered the entire pinnacle of where they stood.  Karo swayed as the magic washed over her, and watched as Meteion fell to her knees, cradling a perfect bloom.  Somehow she kept to her feet as Emet-Selch spoke once more, voice proud as he walked to the side of the platform.

“These Elpis blooms serve as proof that this realm is not utterly devoid of hope.  No more can you deny its power.  No more is yours the dominion of despair,” he was gentle as he got with the avatar of despair even as he cracked her ultimate power over their surroundings like a child’s toy, before turning to Karo.

“In case the practical implications were lost on you, you comrades no longer need fight their fight,” Karo had been keeping up somehow with the metaphysical reasons, and tears were already streaming down her face.

“So, go on.  Call them back to your side,” without another thought, and almost without even asking, the summoning circle opened once more around her, seven bright pillars burning in the darkness as bright as her soul.  Seven beams of light that faded into seven heartbreakingly familiar faces, whole, healthy, and alive.  The song in her mind broke into full clarity as Hope became a melody for her to sing.

As the Scion’s voices reached her, each with their own quip or comment, Karo fell to her knees, a mirror of Meteion, clutching the Azem crystal to her chest.  Thank you thank you thank you her soul sang to Azem. To Hydaelyn.  To Hades and Hythlodaeus.  To Ardbert.  To her companions that were blessedly still with her, who had believed in her this entire journey, even when she didn’t believe in herself.  All was right in the universe once more, her heart stabilizing.

G’raha and Thancred reached her first skidding in the flowers kicking up blooms around the trio, pulling her into their joint embrace as they had noticed her fall.  G’raha had seen how she had barely been keeping together on the long journey to this point–and Thancred could obviously see the strain that had been put upon her.  There they stayed, conscious of what was around them, but uncaring and reveling in the fact that they were together once more. 

The rest of the Scions gathered close, and embraced Karo as she stood, wiping away the tears of joy.  Heart beating strong–and finally sure of her path–she squeezed her lover's hands tight as she finally released them and  turned to face Meteion, reaching out a hand.  It would end–had to end.  

Now.

[porta-decumana]

A Masterpost of My Gaius and GaiusWoL fanfics

Putting these here because I’ve sensed a spike in GaiusWoL lately (particularly after 6.4!) and I figured I’d do a bit of shameless self-advertising!  Here are all of my GaiusWoL and Gaius-centered fics.

The Last Light of Dawn - Explicit | 379,213 Words | Ongoing -  A Dark AU fanfic that posits the question “What would happen if the Garlean Empire rallied itself in late Shadowbringers and took over Eorzea?” The Warrior of Light is taken captive by Garlean scientists and wakes up to a world that is much unlike the one she knows.  The Eorzean Alliance has fallen.  The Scions have scattered.  Hope now remains in the Wild Rose Rebellion, led by Tataru Taru, Gaius Baelsar, and Estinien Wyrmblood.  

Alea Iacta Est - General | 29,458 Words | Ongoing - A scene collection that takes place during the Sorrow of Werlyt questline.  Most of the scenes take place outside of in-game cutscenes though some chapters features slightly edited scenes.  Features WoL Kaida Asagiri and Gaius pre-relationship and how they ended up starting to fall for each other.

And Love You Shall Find -  Explicit | 82,707 Words | Ongoing/on Hiatus - The sequel to Alea Iacta Est, And Love You Shall Find takes place in the gap between Shadowbringers and Endwalker.  The Warrior of Light is called back to Terncliff to help Cid Garlond do some test pilot work for the G-Savior with Gaius Baelsar as her copilot.  Meanwhile, old phantoms from Gaius’s past start to appear and Kaida must deal with her growing feelings for him.  “And they were copilots!” basically.

Respite -  General | 2,527 Words | Complete - A cutesy oneshot that happens sometime prior to Endwalker.  Sparring and flirting-- a good trope. For your fluffy needs.

Wolves Howl At Night - Teen and Up | 4,428 Words | Complete - A oneshot that takes place prior to 1.0.  Features Gaius and his lover, Cassius.  Angst-driven. Mentions of Gaius/Midas.

Reunited - Explicit | 3,583 Words | Complete - A smutty oneshot that takes place prior to Endwalker.  Features hits such as implied armor kink and praise kink.  Very light on the story, heavy on the action.

Risks Taken - Explicit | 3,777 Words | Complete - Gaius gets injured on the Warrior of Light’s behalf and proves to be an unruly patient as she tries to mend his wounds.  Very light on the story, heavy on the action (smut).

Favorite Scars - General | 2,393 Words | Complete - A fluffy oneshot where the Warrior of Light asks Gaius where he got a certain scar from.  She was not anticipating him telling her that she had given it to him years ago.

Undone - Explicit | 4,300 Words | Complete - may get a sequel though! - OT3 smut between two of my OCs and Gaius Baelsar.  A “we’re stuck in a cabin in a rainstorm and there’s not much else to do” situation.  Takes place after 6.0′s MSQ.

Who Hunts Shadows - General | 4,227 Words | Complete - A oneshot of Alphinaud’s time with the Shadowhunter gang in Stormblood.  Features Alphinaud realizes who Gaius is. 

Tension - Explicit | ??? | Being redone - A smutty fic of Gaius’s sexual exploits with multiple partners in the capital city.  Prior to 1.0.  Polyamory and orgies galore.

Purgatorio - General | 11,960 Words | Ongoing/on Hiatus - A fic about the Warrior of Light’s journey from the Aitiascope into the aetherial sea.  Meanwhile, Gaius and Allie struggle to protect the people of Werlyt from the second Final Days using the G-Savior.  

Sunlight in Her Eyes - General | 4,059 Words | Complete - Kaida and Gaius’s reunion in the Burn.  “Oh no, he’s hot” basically as a fic.

[minti-tales]

8) oops, we were just hiding in this closet, but then the close proximity get us too turned on not to fuck

CW: Language, Intercourse, Implied Consent-Non-Consent.

This contains Endwalker spoilers, please be aware. I forget the exact patch number, but this uses lore from post-patch 6.0 Endwalker.

--The Thirteenth, during the time of the Contramemoria.--

"A ruddy mess you got us into, Chauvert."

"Me? Speak for yourself, madame. I thought it was 'Escort madame to Lord Dragonne,' not 'Lead madame to his Lordship, watch madame kill his Lordship, then have myself shoved INTO A BLOODY CLOSET-"

Signora Alabeste jammed a black-gloved finger up to the lips of the slender framed knight beside her. "Not another word," she hissed, golden eyes darting about. "Your mewling's what's got us here in the first place." Gods above, her corset was getting ruined - was ruined, by this point. Why'd she ever think that a frilly red dress and long boots was good adventuring gear, she'd never know. All torn up, and muddied, and-

But that wasn't important right now. Keeping quiet, that was a bit higher of a priority.

The situation, the current, hazardous-to one's-health situation, was that Ser Menthe de Chauvert, and herself, were pressed up tightly against each other in a dressing room closet. This closet happened to be in the upper towers of an imposing grey castle, of which was situated in a beautiful kingdom. What had been beautiful, Signora Alabeste presumed, before the Contramemoria. She'd have liked to sing for the wealthy of Baron.

Ser Menthe, the tan lad done up in silver armor, looked something from a children's puppet show. His joints were all jumbled up, at the moment, and every time he moved to give himself some room (what room there was) the spurs on his fancy boots would jingle. Jingle jingle jingle. "Forgive my outburst, madame," he wheezed after brushing dripping wet hair from his face, "If madame would provide some godssdamned room, I could. I could find you safe passage away from this place, you could take the Lion's Mane for yourself, and, additionally, I never have to see your sodding face again."

Poor lad must be tired from struggling, the Signora thought. Of course, it wasn't her fault that he chanced to find her, dagger in hand, over the recently departed Lord Dragonne. Nor was it her fault that Lord Dragonne was dead in his bedchambers, bereft of his clothes and missing his prized memoriate crystal, the Lion's Mane. Ser Menthe was a blade hired by a man corrupted by the Light. He'd been told to bring Signora Maria Alabeste, songtress of the realms, to his Lordship's chambers. How was he to know he'd become an unknowing aide to the Mockingbird of Troia? It was only logical to shove him and herself into the bedroom closet, if only to keep the lad from bellowing out to his fellows.

Alabeste could hear the almost clockwork-like clinking of metal on metal beyond the doors of the closet. The dragoons and dark knights loyal to Baron and the castle would be on the move, if they weren't already, which meant that time was short. Menthe would need to be dealt with if he kept up that awful noise. Such a pity, that. The woman rather fancied him.

A sudden low rumble from the castle walls pushed Menthe up against the Signora. "Mada-" Whatever else the knight wished to utter was swallowed up by Madame Alabeste's generous chest.

Nothing was said until Alabeste could feel the hilt of Menthe's not-sword pushing up tight against her undergarments. Striking green eyes, his beautiful eyes, drifted up slowly up to match her own. Cold steel gloves ran across either side of her ample hips. I can work with this, she mused. "Getting excited, are we? It's natural, if you are. I am too." She pressed herself tight against her closet mate; that's what men liked, after all. A body tightly wound 'round their not-sword.

"Gods damn you, slut, you...you hellish whore. How dare you make me break my oath to, to." Menthe couldn't even finish his thought, dear thing. No, he was more focused on breaking the cords that held Alabeste's corset to her stomach. Fumbling fingers, sent on a mission to swive this daughter of a whore into the next existence. Punishment, judgement, lust, what did it matter, really, as long as that not-sword did its work and dug deep between the bitch's bottom whore lips, made her regret besmirching the knight's good graces and honor?

What happened next was of little consequence, to the Signora, at least. The Lion's Mane was hers to take back to the senior memoriates, after she'd had her evening of indulgence. The powers of loyal knights of old would be contorted and twisted into new, more horrifying forms, winged pawns of black armor to match those of the Memoriates of Light. The war would go on.

Stranger things have happened in times of war.

[morocosmos]

Returning - G’raha

Intro chapter | Thancred | Urianger | Y’shtola | Alphinaud, Estinien | Tataru | Alisaie, Krile

Warrior of Light & G’raha Tia

Takes place during Endwalker, just after the end of 6.0. This is a series of vignettes on each of the Scions’ relationships with my Warrior of Light, Moro’a as he’s recovering after the end of the Final Days.

“How bad is it?”

Moro’a gritted his teeth as he tried to think through the haze of pain. “Bad,” he answered simply. The magic Frynn had used to treat his pain had nearly worn off, and he recalled the force of his fist colliding with Zenos’s jaw, followed by the accompanying crunch; from the way the shock had ripped through every muscle and bone in his arm, there was little wonder as to why it was in such a state.

He watched as G’raha nodded, his red eyes narrowed in a serious expression. There was more there – concern, as well as some other form of tension. “And…you are adamant that you would rather have me tend to it now, as opposed to letting the sages handle it?” the Seeker asked, after a long pause.

Moro’a considered G’raha’s words, working through the implications beneath their surface. The sages’ feathers had already been ruffled once in the aftermath of his aethershock attack; the Scions might risk incurring more than unsavoury thoughts were they to explicitly reject their expertise any further, and it was unlikely that Fourchenault would extend his authority to their aid a second time.

Despite that, he knew he would much rather have any one of the Scions do something than have the sages administer their form of remedy on him again. The first time he'd complained of pain, they’d carefully made adjustments to the machines linked to him, and several minutes later a strong numbness had followed, permeating throughout his body. It’d been deeply uncomfortable, comparatively mild to what he had experienced in Norvrandt as the Light had taken its toll on him, and yet. He’d been forced to endure the lack of sensation until blessed sleep at last claimed him.

Moro’a knew there was more to G’raha’s hesitation, too, but he was unsure of how to approach it. “Fourchenault said you and the other Scions could lend your magic ‘within reason'. Such was his wording, correct?” he inquired instead. G’raha nodded again, and Moro’a looked up towards the ceiling, weighing his choices.

“I believe you could consider this one such situation, then. If the sages pester you for a reason, tell them I’d be willing to explain it myself. They can present alternatives if they have any,” he decided out loud. G’raha didn’t immediately respond, and Moro’a noticed that his eyes had widened, though he maintained his composure. “Very well,” G’raha replied, settling back an ilm into his chair. The surprise was gone, smoothed over by a small, optimistic smile. “I shall entrust negotiations over to you, my friend. Then, if I may…” Moro’a felt G’raha lift his arm, and he couldn’t help but wince as his mending nerves protested. “My apologies,” the Seeker murmured.

“S’fine.” G’raha’s touch was neither rough nor gentle, but a cautious balancing act that Moro’a felt as he tilted his arm here and there, feeling where bone had been fractured and flesh torn. Moro’a half-watched, half-turned his gaze to the side, unsure of what more to say. Even after all this time, a faint air of awkwardness remained between them; an undesirable reminder of year-old differences and disappointments that made itself known when no one else was around. But Moro’a was glad for his presence all the same; pain aside, staying in this small room while all but immobile had made him want for company.

“Does it hurt most around the proximal phalanges of your hand, or is it more generalised?” G’raha enquired, after a time.

“Slightly concentrated there. But the rest of the arm hurts almost as much as where I’d hit Zenos,” Moro’a replied, feeling slightly embarrassed detailing how he had punched the Garlean. It still felt too surreal that he’d fought Zenos bare-fisted at the very edge of the universe less than three sennights ago. But G’raha made no move to bring it up as he continued to inspect Moro’a’s arm and hand with what the Keeper could only describe as utmost concentration. G’raha had been tense when he’d arrived for what would be his first visit since Moro’a had awoken; he had relaxed a little, though that undercurrent of something other remained. It was several moments more before he placed Moro’a’s arm back by his side, seemingly satisfied enough with his assessment to speak.

“The damage to your arm was certainly, well, extensive,” G’raha began. “Llorhis, the head nurse did report multiple fractures extending from your fingers to your lower arm…from what I can tell, the Technon restoration unit has focused on steadily repairing these, as well as where the muscles were torn all throughout.” So that explained the heightened pain in his right arm, Moro’a thought. “As for what I can do to relieve the strain it’s placing on you–” an odd shadow crossed over the Scion’s face, for just a moment – “I can modify a spell that Beq Lugg taught me for numbing pain. It was, ah, intended for my own use as the Crystal Exarch, once upon a time. But I should be able to adapt the spell without issue.”

G’raha was looking intently at him now, as though trying to gauge his response. “Additionally, I believe I can also adjust the extent of said numbing to your preference…should you have any concerns in that regard," he said, delicately.

It took a moment for Moro’a to catch on to G’raha’s meaning, but as he did, realisation had him staring at the other miqo’te, and G’raha dithered. “T’was only a hunch,” he added quickly. “After the aethershock, and learning you’d rather the Scions attend to your pain over what the sages have used.”

Moro’a blinked. “What was your hunch?” he couldn’t help but ask.

G’raha’s ears lowered to the sides a little as his gaze travelled to his lap. “Thanks to an explanation from Alphinaud, I learned that the sages employ several forms of umbral aether when treating pain,” he explained. “It led me to wonder if you might’ve found the effects of potent stasis-leaning magic uncomfortable, or perhaps even distressing…given what you’d endured on the First."

"...Like how the Light was affecting me." Of course G’raha would have picked up on this, Moro’a realised. He’d somehow neglected to anticipate that G’raha would have thought to consider how he might feel about it, before he’d even brought it up. Truthfully, it was a relief to see him approach the situation so conscientiously.

"Thank you," Moro'a said quietly, G'raha's ears swivelling towards him as he listened. “I was going to mention it, but you’re right about how I feel towards their methods. By which I mean I despised every second of it,” he sighed, leaning back into the pillow. The pain was beginning to tire him out again. “I would take just about anything else, perhaps even going without any remedy if I had to.”

“Well, ‘tis good that you need not resort to that last option. I would say you’ve endured enough for an age and a half,” G’raha stated. “But surely you know that my white magic will have a similar effect. Would that still be alright?”

“Yes – I doubt it would be half as uncomfortable as what the machinery did to me,” Moro’a explained. “I trust that you’ll figure out something.”

“Very well.” G’raha was smiling, and his shoulders looked more relaxed, as though the tension he’d been holding had abated significantly. “I’ll need to fetch my staff and take some time to work out the spell, but rest assured it won’t take long,” he said.

“And…thank you in turn. For trusting me with this task.” Moro’a nodded, feeling several onzes lighter himself. The air between them had changed – not entirely, but enough to soften the awkwardness into something far more hopeful.

[ladyramora]

Your Mouth Is Poison, Your Mouth Is Wine (Corbett x Hesperos PWP ❤️ Commission)

Explicit, M/M

Final Fantasy XIV

Hesperos/Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Hesperos/Corbett

Elezen Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Male Elezen Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)

Corbett belongs to @corbokkur

Written For & Edited By Corbokkur.

↓↓↓ FFXIV Endwalker Spoilers Under the Cut ↓↓↓  

Pandaemonium Questline (Final Fantasy XIV) Spoilers

Patch 6.0: Endwalker Spoilers

Post-Patch 6.0: Endwalker

Pandaemonium Questline (Final Fantasy XIV)

NSFW Warnings: Aether Vampire, Blood Drinking, Biting, Seduction, Dubious Consent, Mind/Mood Altering Substances, Master/Pet, Hunter/Prey, Long Vampire Tongue, Kissing, Probing for information, Sexy Interrogation?, Hand Jobs, Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Rimming, Anal Sex, Scratching, Hair-pulling, Mind Manipulation, Feeding on aether, Past mention of Zenos/Corbett, Mild Roasting of Zenos, Kidnapping, Size Difference

.....

....

...

Corbett considered himself a highly intelligent man. At least, he usually felt so right up until an attractive man that fit all of the criteria for his particular standards showed up. Tall, broad-shouldered men who were also intelligent and refined had always been his weakness. Despite his best efforts to remain poised and dignified, Corbett often found himself acting a fool in the presence of such men.

So, of course, when Hesperos had appeared as if he had walked straight out of Corbett’s fantasies, the elezen hero had been struck dumb and near bowled over for the instant, inexplicable attraction he felt for the man. Aught that had the fastidious hero fussing with his hair and outfit after having just bested the phoinix, positively primping as the keyward floated above the platform they stood upon.

Having finally laid eyes upon the man, he certainly fit the bill of Corbett's check-list for instant attraction. He was handsome, fair of face with sharp golden eyes and long, pale blonde hair. His shoulders were most definitely broad, and judging by the cut of his refined attire, he was quite fit. For all the praise Erichthonios and Themis had up to this point for the keyward, Corbett's opinion of the man was quite high.

Corbett hardly hears a word his companions say with his attention so utterly captivated by the man. He gawks at the keyward slack jawed and stupefied, making a besotted fool of himself in his instant infatuation. His elezen ears twitch with every word from the hemitheos' lips, his eyes not leaving the man even as the tension between his party and Hesperos grows.

No, Corbett was too busy fussing with his hair and dusting ash off his clothes to look more presentable every time Hesperos glanced towards him. Quite obviously making eyes at the man. Aught that had Hesperos reacting with expressions of utter bemusement. This was hardly the time or place for such flirtations, but Corbett's obvious interest in the keyward had pulled the man's focus.

Even the attempt to imprison them with the same spell they had used to return the phoinix to its cage did not deter the hero from his coquettish behavior. The elezen barely sparing a glance to the blue glow that flares up beneath them before Themis interrupts the cast before it can ensnare them, breaking the internment spell before it could be completed with a swift blow to the invocation circle.

The keen intelligence Corbett was known for is all but tossed aside as Hesperos' gaze lingered on him, and before he could think better of it—or even think at all—a flirtatious remark had fallen from Corbett’s lips, complimenting the man’s taste and style, “Surely you must retain some modicum of civility even as a hemitheos, keyward Hesperos. Your ornate attire and immaculately stylish hair bespeaks a man of good taste. Perhaps we could discuss a peaceful way to resolve our differences. Over dinner, mayhaps?” The last bit is blurted out, an impulse too late to stifle or take back as the man’s golden eyes bore into him.

The perturbed response of his two companions was not entirely lost on him—Erichtonios with mouth dropped open in surprise, Themis side eyeing him with an incredulous, blue eyed stare—but Corbett pays them no mind for the moment as he waits with bated breath for Hesperos’ reply.

"So you are the curious little creature that has all of Elpis in an uproar. Azem's familiar," Hesperos remarks, his golden gaze piercing as he peered at the hero behind his fashionable spectacles. "Pandaemonium may be a deep, dark place, but I've eyes and ears everywhere. I have heard tales of your exploits, be they large or small, little familiar."

Corbett twists his hips in a gentle sway, a little bashful under the other man's considering stare. His long, elegant fingers twirl at the dark strands of his hair as he peeked at the man under the delicate fan of his dark eyelashes with a coy, violet eyed stare. Biting gently at his plump lower lip, he affected a breathy voice as he fluttered his eyelashes and replied, "Oh? What sorts of tales have you heard of me, keyward Hesperos?"

Hesperos stares at him as if he were a curious puzzle that the keyward meant to solve, intense and obviously interested.

Hesperos' attention is pulled from him, however, as Themis interjects, "You waste your time in trying to reason with him, Corbett. Let us quit this place. Whatever poison has corrupted Hesperos's mind, it is plain his power far eclipses our own. We must have time to gather our strength."

With that, the silver haired Amaurotine proceeded to whisk them all away via teleport before Hesperos could do anything more.

Or, he almost did. Themis goes first, and then Erichthonios, but before Corbett himself can vanish into the aether does he feel something snag, bringing his escape behind his companions to an abrupt halt.

"It is rude to leave before a conversation is over," Hesperos says to him, suddenly so very close instead of levitating above him. Corbett shivers as the man trails clawed fingertips under his chin, tipping his head up to look him in the eye. Corbett finds himself holding very still as the tips of those sharpened nails trailed over his throat, his skin prickling with the feel of it. "Dinner, you said," the keyward murmurs with the beginnings of a wicked smile. His fangs gleaming behind his lips. "I believe I will take you up on that offer, little familiar."

Corbett feels a strange mix of emotions at the acceptance of his suggestion, giddy elation mixed with something similar to dread as the keyword took him by the arm.

Corbett had no time left to change his mind, however, as with a swish of Hesperos' cape, everything went dark.

….

Corbett cannot help but feel his taste in men was rather particular indeed as he regains consciousness to find himself sat upright at a dinner table for the second time in so many moons.

If he had a shiny coin for every time that had happened, he'd have two shiny coins. It was probably concerning that it had happened twice, and so close together besides.

Familiar-snatching aside, Hesperos already proved to be a better dining companion than the Crown Prince of Garlemald as Corbett lifts his head and opens his violet eyes to the man's steady golden gaze already intent upon him from where he sat across the table with his hands folded under his chin.

Point one, Hesperos, for eye contact.

"I do hope you find your meal to your taste," Hesperos says without pause. Point two, actual conversation from the man who desired his company.

Corbett glances down, feeling something of a draft. His stylish adventuring gear had been replaced by what seemed to be dinner attire, but the revealing kind that would have the people of Ishgard all aflutter at the indecency of it. Corbett's throat and collar were bared to the air, along with his chest down to the navel. The breeches he wore were soft, but fitting to the lines of his body in a way that hugged every curve, especially his thighs, hips, and rear as Corbett shifts in his chair.

His grimoire, his only means of defense, seemed to have mysteriously vanished as well.

"Are you not hungry?" Hesperos drew his attention back towards him with his question, the other man swirling what seemed to be wine in a delicate, glass goblet. The liquid sloshing around inside it a deep, rich red.

Corbett's stomach promptly growled, answering for him as he lifted the silver lid of the warming platter that kept his plate covered and piping hot. The tantalizing smell of his dinner wafts up to his nose and instantly makes the elezen's mouth water. Yes, he was hungry.

"Thank you for the meal," Corbett says politely, spreading out the fancy cloth napkin that had been prepared for him and picking the utensils that sit nearly beside his plate. He tucks into his dinner with restrained hunger, feeling a strange sense of pressure as the man's stare lingered on him.

The first bite is blissful, and Corbett gives a soft moan at the deliciousness of it. His long, dark eyelashes fluttered with the sound. He opens his eyes to Hesperos gazing at him with an intensity that makes him flush hot. Had he been staring the whole time?

"It is delicious," Corbett says hurriedly to fill the silence, though he does genuinely believe such, a bit unnerved by having the man's attention so fixated upon him. Was he even blinking? Hesperos still held that glass of wine in his hands, but the elezen had yet to witness him take a single sip. He had no platter, no plate of food in front of him, either.

"Are you not eating?" Corbett asks before taking another delectable bite with a resulting sigh. His mouth waters with the complex yet satisfying symphony of flavors from the mere forkful he just took. The food looked similar to the usual haute cuisine an Ishgardian noble might be used to, but it tasted beyond better than the fanciest of dishes that Corbett had the pleasure of sampling.

For a moment the keyward's eyes seemed to glow a fiendish purple hue as he murmured in that rich, velvety voice of his, "My… meal… is not yet… finished preparing."

Corbett's head tilts, not even considering the double meaning to the man's words as his interest in cooking was piqued. "Oh! Is it something that requires slow cooking? It can be difficult to get the timing right when there is so much to do."

Hesperos looks at him and gives a low, rich chuckle. His deep voice instilling shivers in the elezen as if he were right next to his ear for the way it rumbles as it washes over him, "Something like that, yes."

Corbett smiles, more at ease now that he had something to converse about with the keyward, even if it was just small talk. "What sort of flavors do you usually enjoy?" He asks, glancing away from their prolonged eye contact for one moment to glance for his own glass to sip from.

He startles with movement at his side, gasping out as keyward Hesperos steps close and intercepts his outstretched hand by curling his long, elegant fingers around the stem of an empty wine glass.

"I have very… particular tastes," the keyward answers his question in a silky, velvety rumble. The soft leather of his dark gloves feels buttery smooth as he sweeps his thumb over the elezen's pale, delicate wrist.

"Your heart is racing, little familiar," he chuckles low in his throat. Pressing his thumb against the smaller man's wrist and feeling the rabbit-quick thump of his pulse. "Do I frighten you?"

Corbett swallows against the sudden dryness of his mouth, his cheeks blushing hot as the keyward caresses his hand and fills his glass to the brim from a nondescript bottle. He really should not drink a single sip of it, considering his track record of being poisoned. "I am feeling a good many things because of you, keyward Hesperos," he says slowly, daring for the first time since he woke up to flirt with hemitheos, "but fear is not one of them."

Hesperos laughs, trailing his claws over the elezen's wrist, his eyes bright and intent on the dark haired man's face. "Fearless, are you?" He drawls, fangs gleaming. "Good."

Corbett shivers with the sensation of those claws trailing over his sensitive skin. He shook his head, strands of his silken dark hair tickling his blushing cheeks. He clears his throat. "Fearless? No, no. I would not say that. I am simply well used to overcoming obstacles, whatever they might be. Even should they be my own emotions."

Hesperos makes a thoughtful sound in his throat, trailing his claws from the man's wrist up his arm and over his shoulders as he walks around behind his chair. His fingers coiling in the inky black of Corbett's long hair as he lowered his head to speak into the elezen's pointed ear, "What of your master? Your creator, Azem? Some have said that you resemble that person. Are such rumors true?"

Corbett trembles with the feel of the man's breath on his ear, the seductive quality of his voice rendering him speechless as he tilted his head to gaze at the man, struck dumb with attraction.

Hesperos' expression is all too knowing of the effect he has on him, too. He radiated a certain self assured smugness that would irritate Corbett from any other man, but unfortunately only made the keyward all the more attractive to him. It was almost insufferable.

"Has your master forbidden you from speaking of them?" Hesperos murmurs throatily, reaching out to tuck Corbett's hair behind his ear, his claws grazing the hero's skin and making his breath hitch as his flesh prickled with the shivery sensation his touch inspired in him. He very nearly fumbles the glass of what must be wine in his hand if not for Hesperos' reaching out so casually to steady him.

"Perhaps you need to wet your tongue," the keyward suggests, guiding his hand towards his mouth and resting the glass against his lips.

Corbett had not intended to drink the wine at all, but with Hesperos speaking into his ear and pressing the cool, smooth rim of the glass against his lips… He opens his mouth.

Wine trickles over his tongue, the taste complex in an expert marrying of flavor that has his taste buds tingling. So different from the likes of the many he had tasted back on the Source as it settles and pools within his mouth. But of course, this was the unsundered world, a time and place that was advanced in many ways compared to his world, to his home. Of course the wine tasted richer, more vibrant, and was overall of an absolutely exquisite quality that suited his taste. Not unlike the man who held his glass and encouraged him to drink deep of it.

Before Corbett knew it, he had drained half the glass with Hesperos watching.

"Such an obedient little familiar," Hesperos chuckles, dragging his claws through Corbett's hair lazily. Scratching over his scalp and allowing the silken, inky strands to slip through his claws.

"Corbett," the elezen interjects with fluttering eyelashes at the pleasurable sensation of being petted like this, feeling breathless and a little hot all of a sudden. Had it become warmer, or was it simply his own feelings of interest for this alluring man that made him feel so hot and bothered?

"Hmm?" Hesperos hums, resting his hands on the elezen's shoulders. "What is a… Corbett?"

Corbett tilts his head back to look into the man's face, bemused and utterly charmed. "I am a Corbett. That is my name. I should like very much if you would use it."

"What a unique name… for a familiar. If you will not speak of your master, perhaps a change of topic is in order. I bore witness to when you faced the phoinix. The shape of the magicks you used were so not unsimilar to creations of my dearest master, Lahabrea. Have you anything to say on the matter?"

Hesperos gazes down at him, trailing his claws under Corbett's chin and across his throat. Ticklish, teasing, a threat of danger that was all too thrilling.

"Corbett," he says in a throaty purr, and Corbett's ears twitch with the sound. His body feels overwarm even in an outfit that exposed most of his upper body.

There was danger here. Hesperos' expression was all too knowing. This man was just as much a threat as he was thrill, such that was in line with his usual taste for dangerous men. Yet Corbett could not find the desire within himself to leave just yet.

Hesperos gives something like a sigh as the elezen purses his lips and refuses to give him an answer. He picks up the bottle again to refill Corbett's glass, just shy of the brim.

"If you intend to loosen my tongue with drink, I fear you will not find it so simple," Corbett says with some humor. Ishgardians drank alcohol as if it were water, after all.

Hesperos chuckles. Placing the bottle on the table, within arm's reach should the elezen desire another glass or more. "Perhaps I only intend to relax that tension you still hold, my pet. There is no need to be so stilted or formal here. You may take your ease with me. I only intend to engage in conversation. Please," the keyward gestures to the spread of exquisite food and drink set before him. "Eat and drink to your heart's content."

Corbett looks where the man gestures, moving to do as he suggested. Even as he carves away a piece of juicy, perfectly prepared meat with his knife and spears it onto his fork, he feels increasingly hesitant. "...How long until your meal will be ready? I am put in something of an awkward position to indulge myself whilst my host merely watches."

Hesperos makes an amused sound in his throat and grasps the elezen's wrist, of his hand that held his fork. Gazing into the elezen's eyes as he lowered his head and opened his mouth to close his lips around the tines of the fork. Taking the bite of meat for himself. He chews slowly, making a show of swallowing, and then pierces a tender green vegetable on the end of his claw and crunches it between his sharp teeth. He follows it all with a swallow of wine from the hero's glass.

Corbett cannot help but stare at the stretch of the man's throat as he tips his head back and audibly gulps it down.

"Satisfied, little Corbett?" The keyward murmurs. "I would not be so uncouth or unwise as to poison my guest and my dinner…companion."

Corbett feels a prickle of unease, but returns to eating his food. "...I meant no insult or to have implied you would. I am simply…. cautious about such things."

Hesperos leans in, brushing his knuckles over the smaller man's cheek. His hand trailing over his lips, his throat, his chest.

Corbett's gasp hitches in his throat as his simmering want for the man burns hotter, the cool touch of the keyward's hand fanning the embers of his desire into flames hotter than the fires of Ifrit.

"Worry not, cute little familiar," Hesperos says oh so casually as if he were entirely unaware of the effect he had on him. Oh, but the look in his eyes says differently. That plain, wicked delight in seeing Corbett squirm. In so obviously having him like putty in his hands, ready to be molded. If only Hesperos so desired to grasp him in his hands and play with him like a pretty, foolish little toy.

"I would not be so foolish as to cause lasting harm to Azem's familiar… There is still so much you have yet to tell me." The keyward says confidently, playing with a lock of Corbett's long, dark hair. "And besides," Hesperos gives a smile that is all sharp, gleaming teeth, trailing the silky strand of Corbett's hair over the pale gray of his cheek and then pressing his lips to it as if it were the elezen's hand. "...I've taken a liking to you, my little pet."

Despite the warning bells going off, and all the red flags that were waving before his eyes—or perhaps because of them—Corbett wanted him.

Corbett wanted him bad.

"Eat. Before your dinner grows cold. There will be time for talk afterwards," Hesperos murmurs, drawing away before Corbett can make the decision to send his dinner crashing to the floor and lay himself over the table instead to beg the keyward to ravish him then and there.

As Hesperos returns to his seat, Corbett struggles to continue to eat as if the man hadn't worked him up into a lustful haze just a moment ago.

The deliciousness of his dinner is thankfully enough to clear his head somewhat of this strange and uncharacteristic fog of desire. He was well aware of his own weakness for certain types of men, but to waste good food and wine would be unheard of in the unforgiving climes of Coerthas. What had gotten into him just now??

He shakes his head, breathing deep and drinks deep of his glass of wine before refilling it again.

"Are you certain you will be eating soon?" Corbett asks most of the way through his dinner when he realizes the man's meal had still not yet come. He was entirely finished now with what was left of that bottle of fantastic wine.

"I am," Hesperos holds his gaze steadily. His smile is unnerving, his tongue tracing the shape of one of his pointed canines. "I will dine very soon on the most succulent of feasts."

A chilling feeling of danger set Corbett's heart racing. The heat of his desire blanketed by cold sweat as the room suddenly sways around him, his vision doubling.

He saw two Hesperos' smiling at him, devilishly handsome and very much a threat.

Corbett set his fork and knife down, the food in his mouth swallowed down in a bulge that scraped uncomfortably at his throat.

He needed to leave. Now.

"Thank you for dinner. It was most enjoyable, and I apologize for taking my leave so early before we could discuss a peaceful resolution to our conflicting interests in Pandaemonium, but I feel there are developments I must discuss with my colleagues first," Corbett manages something of a polite excuse to make his retreat as his sense of unease intensifies. What had he been thinking, allowing his instant attraction to the man to cloud his judgement so?

It was as if Corbett had been caught in a seductive thrall since the man had locked eyes with him and spoken in that deep, velvety voice of his.

No sooner had Corbett risen to his feet did the room start to truly spin. His vision blurred as he tried to walk, and the half-duskwight found himself stumbling over his own chair as he attempted to leave the table.

He tensed up, his eyes squeezing shut in preparation of taking a spill with his balance and depth perception so shot, but instead the dark haired elezen found himself enveloped in a pair of strong, muscled arms. Caught in the embrace of the man he had sought to flee from.

He certainly was an attentive host.

"Oh dear," Hesperos' voice rumbles richly in Corbett's ears, making the smaller man squirm as his body reacts to it, his skin tingling and flushing hot as his heart beats so very fast in his chest. "You seem unwell, little familiar."

"Corbett," the elezen reminds him of his name. His tongue feels heavy in his mouth, the weight of his eyelids drooping over his hazy violet eyes. "What did you… do to me?" Had he been poisoned, again? Drugged?

Hesperos tuts at him, tipping the elezen's chin up with a finger tipped in a long, razor-sharp claw. Corbett gazes helplessly into the larger man's bewitching gaze. Still a calm, cold gold instead of the vibrant purple he expected to be met with. "My, such accusations, Corbett. I have done nothing to you, my little familiar. One simple bottle of wine and here you are swooning into mine arms. Are your kind truly so delicate? Perhaps I made it too strong. Tell me, my pet. Where do you come from, hmm?"

Corbett's head shakes reflexively, still with enough wits about him to remember that the topic of his time travel and the sundering of this world were off the table. He hisses as the motion of his head has Hesperos' claw catching the skin of his throat, drawing a thin red line that quickly beads with tiny droplets of blood.

Hesperos tsks, drawing the smooth surface of his nail across the scratch and lifting his hand to his mouth to lick the smear of red from it. If Corbett hadn't been staring the man in the face he might've missed the flash of purple that flares in his golden eyes.

"Too soon?" The keyward murmurs in a peculiar tone of voice, but Corbett is not exactly sure it is a question for him.

"If you are so ready to leave, you are free to go, of course," the man says as his hand falls away from holding his waist, drawing back with a swish of his cape. The dark haired elezen stumbles without the keyward bracing him, the room spinning around him. "Capable creature that you are, I wonder if you can escape the jaws of Pandaemonium even in this state?"

Corbett has no time to even formulate a response with his sluggish tongue before the blonde man turns and leaves him.

Hesperos is true to his word in that nothing bars his way from attempting to leave, except for Pandaemonium itself in its twists and turns and endless halls and doorways. It was a labyrinth that Corbett struggled to solve as he found himself turned around again and again. It all looked the same and no matter where he turned or which doorway he chose did he seem unable to come any closer to reaching an exit. It was as if the walls themselves were moving whenever his back was turned, the very shadows themselves wrapping around him and distorting the superb sense of direction his Echo granted him. Was he getting anywhere at all?

His only mercy was that he felt more clear headed as he searched, that blurry, helpless feeling of weakness fading the further distance he put between him and his handsome host.

A trade off of feeling, however, as his body grew warm and then hot the longer he persisted in search of a way out. It came to a point where he was leaning with a hand braced against a wall, his head foggy and his body feverish. His thoughts constantly drifted, lingering on how attractive he found Hesperos, how strangely comfortable it felt to be held in the man's embrace. The compelling weight of his stare, the hint of fangs behind his lips as he spoke and when he smiled.

Corbett leans heavily into the wall as a wave of heat washes over him, leaving him woozy and gasping for breath. He squeezes his eyes closed, the hard stone of the wall feeling cool on the flushed skin of his forehead and cheek. Out of nowhere a sense of vertigo exacerbates his dizzied state, and after a few moments of waiting for the world to stop spinning around him, he opened his eyes again to find he was no longer in an endless hallway, but now resting a few fulms away from a red door.

Corbett felt a feeling of foreboding. That if he went through that red door there would be no coming out again. With a great deal of effort did he turn away from it, to go back the way he had come.

It was a dead end.

There were no other doors, no hidden passageways even as the elezen searched desperately by running his hands over the walls. The only way forward was through the door he was avoiding. There was no choice left to him now but to walk through it and see just what awaited him on the other side.

Corbett's pulse throbbed. His heartbeat thundering in his ears as he grasped the doorknob and slowly turned it. He half expected the door to creak open ominously as he pushed open the door, but it swung in quiet as a whisper on well oiled hinges.

He stepped into darkness, his violet eyes wide open as the room he walked into swallowed him in shadow as black as pitch. Every shaky breath past his lips was loud in the suffocating quiet. The thud of the door closing again behind him might as well have been a slam for how it hurt his ears and made him jump.

"...Hello?" Corbett's voice falls flat, not echoing at all despite his knowledge of how massive Pandaemonium was. Perhaps this was simply a small room. Nothing of interest inside even after all that suspense and build up and anxiety.

The elezen stepped deeper into the room, his stride hesitant; wary. His hands outstretched in front of him as he navigated blind through the dark. It made no sense at all that he could not see. Duskwight eyes were well adjusted to seeing in the dark, and Corbett was half duskwight himself. He walks deeper into the dark and there is a sudden spark of sound as a flicker of flame lit up the candles in every corner of the room.

Corbett barely registers the large, cavernous bed swathed with ruby-red curtains in front of him before familiar clawed hands creep around him from behind and caress his flushed, sensitive skin. Corbett lets out a soft, breathy gasp as he is embraced from behind once more. The lewd cut of his fancy, ruffled shirt doing nothing to protect him from the chilly air of this place, or from the seductive touch of the keyward as the larger man drags him back into his embrace and runs his cool hands over his feverish skin in a possessive touch that had the elezen shivering.

Corbett bites at his plush lips as the man cups his palm over the stretch of his throat, his fingers applying pressure in a squeeze as he tips his head back. His other hand roves, rough and deliciously stimulating over his exposed chest and abdomen. The slightest graze of his claws made Corbett whimper and arch. Into his touch? Away from it? He was not yet certain.

Hesperos' breath is hot in his pointed ear, a contrast to his cool skin that felt like a soothing balm to the fever that burned ever hotter inside Corbett. "So even one so capable and uniquely talented as you are can be contained within the walls of Pandaemonium. What will you do now, my little rat in a cage?"

Corbett cannot think enough to string words together as the man nips his ear and trails his tongue along the shell of it, sucking seductively at his earlobe. His knees felt weak, his heart beating fast as the keyward ran his hands over him, bringing his overheated skin such relief with his cool, lingering touch.

"Have you no words? You were quite loquacious at dinner. Has the madness of this place already begun to seep into you, robbing you of your eloquence? What a shame that would be. If wining and dining you is not the way of it, perhaps direct stimulation is required to best loosen that tongue of yours," Hesperos chuckles darkly. His hand crept up Corbett's neck to his jaw, the tips of his clawed fingers slipping between Corbett's parted lips and petting over his warm, wet tongue.

Corbett moans, his dark eyelashes fluttering as he licks over and between the man's fingers, closing his lips around them to suck them.

"What a hungry thing you are," the man murmurs, trusting his fingers lazily into the elezen's mouth. Smiling wickedly at how the smaller man moans, grasping at his wrist with a delicate, long fingered hand.

"I could see it in those pretty little eyes of yours, you know. The desire you hold for me. How fortuitous for you that I am willing to indulge. I have a hunger of my own, you see," Hesperos purrs, his long tongue slithering out from behind his lips to lick at Corbett's neck and shoulder, the points of his fangs scraping over the hero's creamy skin. The fabric of the elezen's shirt swept aside to bare more of his silky soft skin for him to sample.

Corbett shivers, gasping around the man's fingers in his mouth with a confusing mixture of pleasure and dread as Hesperos' fangs find purchase, sampling the elezen's aether within the welling droplets of his blood as he bit down between his neck and shoulder.

Hesperos hums in his throat, seeming pleased at the taste of his elezen captive. His lips feel smooth and cold against Corbett's feverish skin as he closed his mouth around the small punctures he had made with his fangs, his tongue sliding slippery over the elezen's skin.

Corbett whimpers in his throat, squeezing at the keyward's wrist as the man sups on his aether, on his blood.

"Mm," Hesperos lifts his head with a hungry, appreciative groan. His tongue dragging over his lips to savor the taste of the smaller man. "Yours is an aether of unique quality that I have never before sampled. Worry not, little familiar, I will savor you with due patience. You have much yet to tell me, after all."

Corbett gags as the keyward shoves his fingers deep, brushing the back of his throat. He bucks in the man's grasp in a bid to get away, and the jerk of his head has those clawed fingers scraping over his tongue, the taste of copper filling his mouth as blood welled up on his tongue.

"Now, now. Do not harm yourself," Hesperos murmurs, tutting at him and holding him tight. His strength is dominating, fearsome. He easily overpowers Corbett in this weakened, feverish state. Manhandling him as if he were a doll, a simple toy for the keyward to pose and play with as he turns him around in his embrace. "I went to such trouble of being so careful with you up till now."

Hesperos grins at him as the elezen bites at his fingers, his fangs gleaming in the lantern light. He squeezes hard at Corbett's jaw as he pulls his fingers from his mouth. His tongue extends out, unnaturally long as he licks clean the traces of the Ishgardian's blood from his fingers.

Corbett gasps as that long, cool tongue glides next over his lips, licking away the crimson that stained them. The elezen makes a helpless sound in his throat as that tongue forces itself between his lips and beyond his teeth to drag roughly over his bloodied tongue. The elezen clutching weakly at Hesperos' collar as the keyward yanks him into an unbreakable hold as he crushes their lips together in a ravenous kiss and sucks the hard at his throbbing, wounded tongue.

"It hurts," Corbett whimpers, pushing at the man's chest and turning his face away. The kiss only breaks because Hesperos allows it.

Corbett closes his eyes as those clawed fingers caress his cheek.

"Look at me," Hesperos' murmurs, and Corbett's eyes flutter open to obey him as Hesperos' thumb presses into Corbett's bottom lip. The keyward gazes deep into the elezen's violet eyes with an intense stare that glows a wicked, compelling purple.

"I do not intend to waste one drop of your delectable aether. It is mine now. You… are mine now. Stay lively, won't you? I do detest the taste of despair. Such a heavy, bitter flavor. Give into me, my little pet, and you will feel pleasure the likes you have never known before."

Corbett feels drawn into his eyes. Drowning in them, swallowed by them. All the tension held in his body melts away as the keyward pulls him in and cradles him close.

"Yesss, that's it," Hesperos hisses with satisfaction as the elezen tips his head back and bares his throat to the brush of the larger man's lips. The dark haired elezen moaning softly as Hesperos nibbles and sucks at his neck, leaving small bites that only drew on his aether and did not break skin as he had done with the first taste of him. "You desire me, do you not?"

Corbett tangles his hands in Hesperos' hair, arching into him with a pleasured sound just as delicious as his mouth watering aether. "Yes," the elezen sighs, pulling the man close now. Any remaining thoughts of getting away fade as desire clouds his reason.

He makes such sweet sounds for Hesperos as the keyward mouths over his collar and over his chest. The elezen moaning lustily as the aether vampire sucked and bit at his pecs. The trickle of his aether being slowly drained having an odd affect on him in this feverish, desirous state. Renewed arousal brings flush to his fair skin, his nipples hardening under the swirl of Hesperos' tongue and the scrape of his teeth.

Corbett moans out loud as Hesperos bit into his chest like it was a ripe fruit, right over his heart. Not one trickle of his blood escaping the keyward's hunger as he sucked at the wound he had made, swallowing his blood and his aether along with it.

Corbett's skin tight trousers are stifling, feeling so much a torture device as his passion grows. The plumping of his erection tenting the dark fabric as he throbbed and ached with the pulse of hot, overwhelming lust.

"Kiss me," Corbett pleads, tugging at the man's pale hair. The keyward chuckles, lifting his head cradling his chin in his clawed hand.

"Open your mouth and stick out your tongue," Hesperos purrs to him.

Corbett gives a hot, shaky exhale as he does as he commands, mewling as the keyward wraps his lips around his tongue and sucks at it, bobbing his head forward and back as he does so. The painful throb it had been before is naught but pleasure to Corbett now, every lewd slurp of Hesperos sucking his tongue spreading through him in an electric buzz of dizzying, pulsating lust.

Their tongues tangle as the keyward crushes their mouths together in a heated, deep kiss.

Corbett whimpers with the fierce, overwhelming intensity of it all. Still he was greedy for more, desiring what Hesperos had offered to him. Such pleasures he had never known before. The hero slurs out in desire, "Yes, more, please," as the man bit at his lips and tongue, drawing on his aether more and more as Hesperos stirred passion within him. With every pull of his aether did the elezen's lust for him grow, sinking him further into depravity.

Corbett tastes his own blood. Imagines he could taste his own aether, too.

There would be no escape now, Corbett realizes that. He was caught in Hesperos' grasp, trapped in his dastardly claws.

This was the point of no return.

The hunter had caught his prey.

"I will give you what you desire," Hesperos says in a smooth, deep voice that feels like a velvety caress over Corbett's skin. He does not remember them moving, yet he finds himself laid out upon the bed he had noticed just moments before the keyward had snuck up on him. One swish of Hesperos' cape has his clothes disintegrating into motes of aether, scattering through the air and dissipating, leaving the elezen entirely bare under Hesperos' glowing purple gaze.

"What will you give me in return, my pet?" Hesperos tilts his head to the side, the intensity of his purple eyes all the more searing with the inky black of his sclera.

Corbett bites his lip, saying nothing even as he squirms with desire. His cock bobbing against his belly as he shifts restlessly against the softest, most luxurious sheets he had ever felt against his skin.

Hesperos favors him with a look of impatience. "Nothing? Perhaps you need more convincing." The keyward gathers up his cape and sits on the bed.

Corbett sucks in a breath as the man reaches out and trails a wicked claw over his erection. The pretty pink of his tip flushed near purple with need, drooling a droplet of precum that trickles down over his shaft as he twitches with Hesperos' touch.

The keyward chuckles, teasing him mercilessly with that dangerous claw as he drags the razor edge of it over his sensitive skin. Swirling around his tip, tracing the sensitive underside. Following the path of the elezen's veins that pulsed with his delectable lifeblood.

Corbett holds his breath, his heart thundering with nerves and terrified arousal.

"So responsive," Hesperos remarks with evil delight, his canines gleaming with his wicked grin. His tongue glides over his lips as he inhales deep, giving a rumbling hum in his throat. "I can smell your desire. How curious that it only grows stronger with your fear. You like the danger, do you?" The keyward chuckles richly. "How fortuitous for me."

Corbett's cheeks blush hot, his body flushing hotter still as Hesperos pulls back, producing a clear vial of fluid from the inner pocket of his coat that he then pours over his hand. It was a consideration that made the elezen feel strangely warm. Though Themis and Erichthonios had claimed the keyward was much changed from the man he had once been, perhaps there was still something left of that kind, brilliant man.

That Hesperos sought to grant him pleasure rather than resort to torture for the answers he sought was telling enough. Perhaps he was not entirely lost to madness. Here Corbett was at his mercy, after all, and yet the hemitheos was better prepared for intimacy than the literal prince that had been his last lover.

The elezen does not know whether to hold his gaze or watch as Hesperos takes his prick in his large, cool hand. Far better to feel his skin than to be petrified with the threat of those claws so near to his most sensitive places.

Hesperos skims his hand over him in a loose fist. Taking his time playing with him as he strokes him lazily from base to tip, over and again. His expression could almost be described as bored if not for the way his gaze was intent upon the face of his prey.

Corbett cants his hips up into that torturously teasing touch, sobbing a bit in his throat. "Please," he begs.

Hesperos stops stroking him, smiling evilly for the pitiful way Corbett whimpers his need.

"Beg and plead all you like, my pet. Until such a time when you give me answers to the questions I ask, I will play with you as I see fit."

That said, Hesperos continues to touch him. His hands exploring the elezen's body ilm by ilm.

"What a soft little familiar you are," Hesperos coos, mocking and saccharine sweet as he trails his hands over Corbett's silky smooth skin. So pale and perfect, all this unmarked flesh was now his to lay claim to with teeth and claw.

"So warm," he adds, dragging his fingers possessively over the delicate pink of the smaller man's nipples. "I can feel the pound of your heart. Hear the pulse of your rushing blood." He inhales noisily, licking over his teeth. "Smell your desperate desire. You reek of it. It pours off of you in waves like a thick, heady perfume. How you beg without words for me to take another taste."

Corbett gasps as the keyward presses the sharp claw of his pointer finger to his skin, the deadly point of it drawing a spiral pattern around one pretty pink nipple. His purple eyes seemed to glow all the more vibrantly as blood welled up to fill the delicate, artful wound he had made.

Corbett groans in his throat, grasping weakly as Hesperos' pale hair as the aether vampire dipped his head and trailed his long tongue along the spiral. The man's mouth feels cool and wet on his feverish skin as his tongue lapped up Corbett's aether rich blood, his tongue swirling around his nipple before he opened his mouth wide and sucked at his chest hard.

Corbett arched up with the pleasurable pain of it, whining in his throat as his feet slipped uselessly over the bedcovers.

Hesperos hums in his throat, his mouth watering with the addictive taste of his prey. His tongue licks over the bloody scratch again and again, following the line of the spiral until the flow of blood slows with the enhanced healing factor of the keyward's saliva. Experimenting on himself so came with many changes. Would that his saliva kept the wound's of his prey open longer to make it easier to feed.

Hesperos draws back, gazing dispassionately down at Corbett as the dark haired man pants beneath him in quick, shaky breaths.

"I must thank you for making this so easy, my sweet little pet." Hesperos says in a deep, velvety voice. His clawed hand rose up to stroke Corbett's long, dark hair. Pausing only a moment as the smaller man flinched. His touch was gentle, careful as he combed those dangerous claws through the elezen's silken hair. Treating Corbett as if he were truly his little pet.

"If you had continued on only with thoughts of escape in your mind, you would have found your way out eventually. Your will is strong enough, you could have eventually broken through the illusion of my maze. Instead, my foolish little rat in a cage, you thought of me. Your desire for me distracted you, and ultimately led you back to what you were longing for. Your overpowering lust brought you back to me. If you wish for someone to blame, you need only look at yourself. You are your own undoing, my dear."

Corbett manages something of a self-deprecating smile, "My taste in men always seems to come back to bite me."

Hesperos chuckles, cradling the back of the elezen's head in the palm of his large hand and drawing him close to nip along his plush bottom lip. "Leave the biting to me now, Corbett; my little pet."

Corbett gives a soft, helpless sound as the man pulls on his aether again. He grasps at his collar, pressing his lips against that fanged mouth. "I suppose I can stay for a while. I'll be in your care, for now."

Hesperos gives a soft, scoffing harrumph. Cupping the elezen's cheek in his palm, the claw of his thumb grazing his cheek. "You'll be in my care for the rest of your life, my dear."

Corbett twists his fingers in Hesperos' hair. "Just how long will that be?"

Hesperos gives a fanged grin, rubbing the man's pointed ear between his fingers. "That depends on your behavior, my pet."

Corbett meets his gaze unflinchingly. The confident stare of the one and only Warrior of Light. "I've faced the possibility of death plenty of times. You are hardly the most terrible adversary I've ever encountered."

Rather than be insulted, Hesperos' eyes gleam at the hint that the hero had given him. "Oh? Have you aught to say now? What other adventures have you been on, my dear?"

Corbett bites his lip, realizing his error a bit too late. He turns his head away, putting forth an air of stubbornness. "You might as well give up on fishing for information. I will tell you nothing so long as I have my wits about me."

"Is that so?" Hesperos laughs, low and wicked. "Then I know what I must do."

Corbett blinks as the man withdraws from him. Only to give a short, sharp bark of surprise as he finds himself pulled upright with a beckoning crook of Hesperos' finger and the aid of answering magic. He is then promptly yanked down onto his belly, face down over the man's lap.

Corbett tries to squirm, to shift his position at all, but finds he cannot move. It is as if he were pinned down, made heavy and unmovable by Hesperos' magic. He was very much at his mercy. If only that didn't turn him on so much. Corbett blamed Zenos for thinning the line between danger and sexual arousal.

Hesperos moves him easily. Manhandling him as if he were a life-sized doll for him to pose as he shifts the elezen more on his side, dragging his hands over his skin in a heavy caress that had the hero shivering with the prick and graze of his claws. He trails his hand over his back to his hip, then along the back of his thigh as he draws his leg up. One, then the other, so the elezen was half curled up, but still very much exposed to his whims.

"What are you doing?" Corbett asks breathlessly, his heart beating fast as his body flushed hot, heating up all over again.

"Why, preparing to rid you of those trifling wits of yours, my dear Corbett," Hesperos says as pets his hair, gathering the dark mass of it up in his claws and tugging gently as he pulls it away from his prey's pretty face. He wanted to see his expression as he fell apart.

Corbett's eyelashes flutter at having his hair gently pulled, a small moan drifting out from between his lips.

"When I am through with you," Hesperos continues almost conversationally if not for the seductive quality of his voice, "you will be too overwhelmed with pleasure to even remember your charming little name. You will be my willing prey, wanting naught but more of the pleasure only I can give you. Those pretty lips of yours will part and all your secrets will spill forth from your desperate, drooling tongue."

Corbett is speechless for a moment, his violet eyes wide and his pointed ears burning with the lewd talk coming from the keyward's lips. It was a threat for certain, but a damn sexy one. "You certainly are confident," he murmurs, cheeks blushing and body burning hot at the suggestion of what the man intended to do with him. He wanted to squirm with the desire that was coiling, hot and pulsing, in his loins.

"Using magic is cheating, I should think. Would you not prefer your prey to squirm? Or are you afraid I will find you lacking and make my escape?"

Corbett can hear the smile in Hesperos' voice as he replies, "There is that spark, that clever tongue. You certainly are cheeky," the man's hands caress over his back and hip to fondle his perky butt—and Corbett had only a moment of enjoying the naughty feeling of being groped and spread open with his massaging touch before the man smacked his butt open-handed.

Corbett jolts, gasping, and grits out firmly with feeling, "I will allow that only once, keyward Hesperos! I am not a child to be disciplined. You will treat me with respect or I will end this here and now." And that very much was a threat.

He was strong enough yet, he could break through the hold the man had on him and put up a fight enough to make his escape. It was only because he did not want to yet, that was all. He was confident he would make his escape eventually. keyward Hesperos may have put his body in a lustful state, but Corbett still had his sharp mind, his magic prowess.

Hesperos pauses, seemingly caught off guard. But then he gives a low, approving hum. "I see. Forgive me for such a blunder, then, my pet," the man says, rubbing away the sting of his slap with a gentle, apologetic hand. He dips forward to press his lips to the back of Corbett's neck, trailing his lips between his shoulder blades.

Corbett shivers, clearing his throat. "You are forgiven. See to it that it does not happen again."

Hesperos chuckles, his nose trailing over the elezen's skin as he drifts back up towards the back of his head, breathing in the lovely scent of his silken hair and nuzzling behind his ear. "I will not strike you, my pet," he murmurs sincerely. "Yet one does wonder why all my actions till now were acceptable except for that."

Corbett swallows, his eyelashes hooded over his pretty violet eyes as the man caresses his skin as he speaks to him. Petting him with a gentle, almost affectionate hand. Yes, that was much more like it. "Because I know now what you are, keyward Hesperos. I have encountered beings such as you before that rely upon feeding from the aether of other living beings to survive."

Hesperos pauses in his stroking of Corbett's long, dark hair. "You are mistaken. I am unlike any you have met before. The one and only of my kind, of my creation. I feed on aether not only to simply sustain myself, but to enjoy the many unique flavors of the beings I feast upon. Are you not afraid, my pet?"

Corbett laughs a little. "No. So long as it is pleasurable and not a threat to my life, I have no reason to fear that you will kill me. It would be a waste of sustenance, would it not? I am someone who possesses a unique quality of aether, or so I have heard time and again."

It was true. Though Hesperos had slipped him an elixir of his own making to bolster his reserves, Corbett's aether was merely thin. He was not lacking in any way other than this. So long as Hesperos cared for him sufficiently, he would be a most satisfying source of aether to feed upon for some time to come.

"Your aether is unlike any I have tasted," the keyward admits, and can practically taste the smug satisfaction that his saying so inspires in the man in his lap. "Far more complex compared to the other creatures I have fed upon, even the creations of master Lahabrea."

It only made Hesperos all the more maddeningly curious.

Hesperos twines his fingers in Corbet's hair, tugging his head back gently to look into his face. To gaze into those gorgeous eyes. "Just who and what are you, my little Corbett?"

Corbett smiles a secret little smile, his violet eyes twinkling mischievously. With his fair skin flushed and his hair mussed, he knew he looked downright delicious. "You are just chomping at the bit to know, aren't you? You know I will not answer. Though I will say I am positively tickled that you find me so tasty."

Hesperos makes a disgruntled sound and fists his hand in Corbett's hair to tug his head back as he leaned down to kiss him hard in his frustration. Sucking and nipping at his lips and tangling their tongues together until Corbett was breathless and dizzy from his inhuman kiss. He pulls on the elezen's aether in such a way that Corbett felt a tingly rush in all the places he was sensitive. It very nearly makes him cum for how intense and stimulating it is.

"Hmph," Hesperos pulls back with a sound of smug satisfaction for the pleasurably dazed expression on Corbett's face. His little pet was so responsive. How adorable. Hesperos was growing rather fond of him already. He might even miss him when he ultimately drained him dry. "Where was I…?" He asks, stroking thoughtfully over the elezen's plush, kiss bruised lips. His lovely mouth was even more seductive like this, flushed and bruised from his attentions; a smear of crimson over that plush pout from the scrape of his fangs like a hint of rouge. Hesperos licks the trace taste of it from his thumb and then cleans the rest of it from Corbett's mouth with a flicker of his long, flexible tongue.

Corbett's eyelashes flutter, his violet eyes hazy with lust. "Scattering my wits, or somesuch," he answers helpfully, rendered stupid with his overwhelming desire for the man.

"Ah, yes," Hesperos grins toothily. "Do prepare yourself, my dear," he says, then pauses to chuckle, "or don't."

Corbett gives a choked sound as the keyward suddenly grasps him firmly, a drizzle of lubricant landing cold on his feverishly hot cock as the keyward moved his hand over him with merciless efficiency. As if he were trying to make Corbett cum as quickly and intensely as possible.

"Fuck," Corbett exclaimed breathlessly in a rare use of coarse language as electric pleasure surges through him, curling his toes and making his eyes roll back. His hips twitched into the firm, wet squeeze of Hesperos' fist, his mouth hanging open as he panted and groaned and gasped.

"Hmm, yes," Hesperos laughs, and Corbett feels the heaviness lift from him with a wave of the keyward's hand. "Go on, my little pet. Fuck into my hand to satisfy your base desires."

Corbett burns hot at such crude words from the keyward's lips, but his hips were already moving with the frenzied surge of lust that the man had stirred in him. He is a slave to his own desire as his body follows the motion of Hesperos' hand. More, more, more.

He chases after that feeling of bliss with single-minded focus. The wet, lewd sound of the keyward's lube slicked hand echoes in the quiet of the room, the sound of his own lustful voice loud in his head and in his own ears as Hesperos gave him no chance to recapture his composure or calm down.

He spurred him on relentlessly with his touch and with the low whisper of his seductive voice, "That's it, my cute little pet, give yourself over to pleasure. There is nothing more important now than your release. I can feel the throb of your heartbeat. You're so close now. Feel my hand, how it squeezes you just right. The wet, smooth glide of my glove over your skin. So cool where you are so feverish, so hot. Give up, give in."

If his words were not enough to push Corbett further along, the slow stroke of his other hand over his back slipped lower and lower to caress his perky butt. Claws pricking at his smooth, creamy skin as Hesperos fondled him. It was the feeling of his fingers dipping between his cheeks to rub cold and wet over his hole that had Corbett arching up with a moan in his throat, his first climax coaxed out of him as Hesperos stroked him through to true release.

Pleasure lights up his every nerve as he spills over the keyward's gloved hand as it continues to move over him, squeezing every last drop of his spend until he is whining with sensitivity.

What was strange, however, was that he did not become soft after climaxing. Even after Hesperos hand comes to a stop in stroking him, he is still hard and aching. Perhaps even more than before. His desire had not waned.

"What a curious development," Hesperos remarks with a rumble of a chuckle. Tapping his gloved fingertip to the tip of Corbett's throbbing prick, still wet from his seed. He teases his fingers there, making a circle of his thumb, pointer, and middle finger as he stimulates the head of the elezen's cock. A few more pearly drops drool from the slit as he does so. He smiles with fiendish glee at how his pretty prey whines with this exquisite torture.

"I admit you are my first test subject for this altered aether enhancing elixir. Shall we test how long the effects of this will last? How many times, I wonder, will I be able to bring you to such heights of ecstasy before you ultimately succumb to exhaustion?"

Corbett whimpers as the man resumes stroking him, his back bowing as he arches into that point of contact. "Hah, w—wait…. wait! Nng!" It still felt so very good, but he was sensitive.

Hesperos ignores his pleading, continuing on as if he had not spoken. His touch is lighter, however. More a teasing pass of his fingers in a slow caress than the firm, quick stroke it had been before.

"Besides that, how are we feeling, my pet? Ready yet to spill your secrets as easily as your seed spilled over my hand?"

Corbett can hear the evil delight in his voice, and shakes his head even as he twitches and gasps. "Nn—oh!"

"No?" Hesperos sighs with impatience and squeezes him firmly, taking some satisfaction in the way the elezen moans and jerks against him. "Let us see how you feel after a few more rounds, then."

Corbett makes inelegant sounds as Hesperos pours more lubricant over his feverish skin, the cold substance trickling over and between the keyward's fingers as his hand moves over his prey's flushed, pulsating prick.

With his sensitive Corbett is, it is no time at all before he cums again with Hesperos' dedicated attention.

Hesperos does not stop at once more. Nor at twice. He makes Corbett cum again, and again, and again with just his fingers moving mercilessly over his captive's throbbing, oversensitive cock. Until Corbett himself was sobbing in the keyward's lap, drooling into his captor's thigh as tears of pleasure and pain brimmed over his dark, sooty eyelashes and slipped over his flushed cheeks.

Every time after making him climax does Hesperos ask him if he will answer his questions. And stubborn, heroic Corbett refuses him each time.

Hesperos becomes more impatient with each refusal. Dispassionate even as Corbett shivers and twitches, gasping and crying. He is unmoved by the elezen's pleasure, unruffled by his pain.

"Perhaps this is not enough for you," he says with a certain edge to his tone of voice.

Corbett has a moment reprieve as Hesperos pulls his hand away. A small window to catch his breath and regain his composure. All for naught as Corbett feels the strangest sensation wash over him, the presence of Hesperos' magic pouring into him as the keyward spreads open his cheeks with both hands.

"You seem surprised, little familiar," Hesperos murmurs as the feeling fades into nothingness, leaving Corbett feeling shivery and odd. It felt tingly like a cleansing spell, but also weirdly hollow. "I had thought you would be experienced in this area for how readily you put forth your interest in me."

Corbett twitches with the wet, cold feeling of Hesperos' fingers pressing up against his hole. Rubbing, pressing, but not yet breaching him. "Have you not done this before?"

Corbett squirms as he is prodded against, his cheeks and ears burning as he grips at the man's trousers and buries his face in his thigh. "I have!" He huffs, shifting to get comfortable.

Corbett can practically hear the fanged smile in Hesperos' voice. "Good."

Corbett sucks in a breath and squeezes his eyes closed as Hesperos prods and pushes one finger against him, sinking slowly inside. He cannot help but clench down on the feel of it even as his heart races with nerves at the fear of having clawed fingers inside of him.

The fear only makes it all the more intense as Hesperos presses another finger into him and wastes no time in seeking out the spot that makes Corbett gasp and see stars behind his closed eyes.

He whimpers as the man twists and presses those fingers inside of him. Moaning helplessly as his drooling cock is once again grasped in his captor's merciless hand. A rhythm built again in perfect sync with those wicked fingers inside of him.

"Poor little familiar. Do you desire release?" Hesperos asks mockingly. "If you are so desperate, do it yourself. I grow weary of giving endlessly to a selfish creature who will not grant me the courtesy of answering my simple questions."

Corbett sobs, his body alight with unshakable need.

His hips rock forward and back as he fucks himself back onto Hesperos' fingers and thrusts forward into his grasping fist.

He is desperate, his throat raw with the sounds of his own cries as he climbs higher and higher to that peak he so craves. His pleasure builds, quick and intense. His body trembles, hot and needy. More, more, more.

"Yesss," Hesperos hisses. Spurring him on. "Become addicted to pleasure. Let it consume you. Let everything else fall away. Nothing is as important as this. Nothing is as important as how I make you feel. You are mine, my dear Corbett. There is nothing you can do now, so give in and enjoy yourself."

It is as if the man's words had a magic of their own. Corbett feels a slave to his desire, to his pleasure. He wants nothing more than what Hesperos will give him. His head feels foggy, his thoughts twisting strange with need.

He only wanted more.

Corbett does not know how many times he cums like this. Only that at one point he must have blacked out to the pleasure, only waking again as Hesperos resumes playing with him.

"Tell me. What is your connection to master Lahabrea?" Hesperos demands, no longer asking nicely.

Corbett can hardly focus on his words. He must slur something of a response, a denial, because the keyward reacts with rage.

"Even now you deny me!?" Hesperos forms a fist in the elezen's silky black hair and yanks his head back with a weak sound of discomfort from his prey.

"Punishment, then. For your lack of cooperation!" The hemitheos snarls, and Corbett cries out as he sinks his teeth into his throat.

Yet even the pain has his body reacting as his pleasure peaks again as Hesperos pulls hard on his aether.

He drinks deep, and Corbett can only manage weak sounds of pleasure as his orgasm lasts and lasts for as long as Hesperos feeds on him.

Then, finally, he draws away.

Hesperos is calmer after tasting him, licking over the marks of his teeth in Corbett's throat that still continue to bleed. His saliva helped to slow the bleeding significantly. It would be a shame to let it go to waste.

"So, even pain does not dull your pleasure?" Hesperos laughs, licking his bloodied fangs and relishing the taste of his blood on his tongue and the refreshing, energizing sensation of his aether coursing through him. "Your excitement and pleasure makes for such a delicious flavor. How tempting it is to devour you, drain you of your aether here and now."

Corbett groans in his throat, flushing hot with shame as his body reacts once more.

"Oh?" Hesperos reacts with amusement, smiling darkly and chuckling deep in his throat. His grip on the elezen firm to near uncomfortable as he reaches out again and strokes him from base to tip, delighting in the dribbles of cum he pulls from his little pet. "You've already felt such pleasure, and yet still your desire has yet to wane?"

"I suppose I expected too much, too soon," the hemitheos muses aloud, stroking him mercilessly and smiling with all teeth as Corbett writhes in his lap, helpless. Unable to even put his thoughts together to form words, let alone string together a sentence.

Corbett is simply too delicious, and so Hesperos sinks his teeth into him again. Laughing in his throat as Corbett struggles weakly in his grasp.

"Worry not, my dear. I have no intention to devour you just yet," the keyward says as Corbett's vision dims, darkness rushing up to greet him.

The last the elezen hears before oblivion claimed him being the ominous words of the hemitheos:

"I have hardly begun to test your limits."

Some weeks later….

…..

….

…

Hesperos reclined amongst the pillows on his bed, a peculiar sort of smile curling the gray pallor of his lips. Beckoning with a crook of his fingers to his most obedient little pet.

"Such loyalty you inspire in so short a time, my pet," Hesperos murmurs to the naked man that slinks towards him on all fours.

Corbett gazes at him adoringly, resting his cheek on the keyward's hand as he offers it, nuzzling into his palm with a besotted smile. The elezen's once fair, unblemished skin was now covered all over in deep bite marks in the shape of Hesperos' teeth, old and new, from the weeks the smaller man had spent with him so far. His little pet that he played with and fed from over and over again. What fun it was to drain the hero to utter exhaustion and repeat the process anew once his aether had recuperated.

An exhausted Corbett could be just as much fun to play with as an energetic little pet. He was much more honest when he was delirious, too.

By now, Corbett had shared his whole life story with the hemitheos. All the tales of his globetrotting adventures and grand battles, his life before it, and the time travel that brought him here.

It was a fantastical little story. One that Hesperos was not certain could be believed. He was certain that Corbett believed it to be true, however, and that was all that mattered. Corbett had spoken his truth, no matter if it were real or make-believe.

Hesperos had witnessed for himself what his sweet plaything was capable of. That was true enough. No doubt that it was because of such abilities that his former companions were so keen to find him.

"They search for you even now. They believe you to be lost within this place," Hesperos chuckles, rubbing over Corbett's bottom lip with his thumb. "I have kept my distance and kept watch of their progress through the levels of Pandaemonium."

The elezen parts his lips and dips his head to take his gloved finger into his mouth. Gazing pleadingly at Hesperos with those pretty violet eyes.

Hesperos hums, pressing down on his pet's warm, wiggling tongue. "Wanting more, are you? Greedy thing," the keyward chuckles and settles back amongst the pillows. Amused at how quickly Corbett settles in his lap without prompting, looking at him with such wide, guileless eyes. How submissive and eager to please him his little pet was now.

Hesperos had to admit to himself that he had grown fond of his sweet Corbett and that he would not give him up easily. Even should his master Lahabrea come demanding he hand the elezen over, Hesperos would not be convinced.

Corbett was his now.

"Go on, my dear," Hesperos purrs, combing his claws through the elezen's hair. He winds it around his fingers and tugs the smaller man close to kiss him. Chuckling at how readily his dear Corbett moans for him, sinking into his embrace and parting his plush lips so that Hesperos would kiss him deep.

Hesperos indulges him, as he seemed to be in the habit of doing now. Just as surely as his little pet had captured the loyalty of all his other companions, he had endeared Hesperos to him as well.

The keyward nibbles and nips at the smaller man's lips, scratching his claws gently over the elezen's scalp as he licks into his mouth and plays with his small, cute tongue.

His other hand skates over the soft skin made ever available to him. Much as Hesperos enjoyed treating the man like his little doll to dress up and play with, Corbett had no need for the fashionable outfits that the keyward created for him when they were inside the bedroom. He was almost always naked when they were intimate together. All the better for Hesperos to sink his claws and teeth into his most delectable pet.

Corbett squirms in the keyward's lap as Hesperos teases him with light, ticklish touches. His gloved hands wander over Corbett's back as his fingers slip from the luscious silk of his long, dark hair. Roving instead over Corbett's hips and up his quivering belly to drag his claws over his chest. Scraping carefully over his nipples until they peaked under his delicate touch. Pink, pretty little buds that tempted Hesperos to taste them. One of his favored spots to sink his teeth in and feed upon Corbett's aether-rich blood just so happened to be right over his heart. Drinking deep as his tongue rolled over one of those cute, pretty little nipples.

Hesperos could feel the excited thump of his heartbeat under his hand. The smell of his desire drifted through the air like heady perfume. Hesperos' teeth feel sharp in his mouth with the temptation of it. The irresistible siren call of his aether, the taste of his pleasure in every sip of his blood.

Hesperos gives a rumbly hum in his throat and grasps the elezen's hips that had so far been purposefully wiggling in his lap, and grinds the smaller man down into the evidence of his growing arousal.

"You tempt me so, my dear Corbett," Hesperos murmurs throatily, peppering the long stretch of the elezen's elegant neck with kisses, his teeth sharp behind the soft press of his lips.

Corbett laughs unrepentantly, knowing just exactly what he was doing as he tips his head back to bare his throat to Hesperos' attention, his perky bottom rocking in the keyward's lap. "What will you do about it?"

Hesperos growls, clutching at the hero's hips and rutting up into him. "Greedy thing. Are you never satisfied?"

Corbett rubs up against him, batting those pretty eyes at him and pouting his plush lips. "No. I want more. Please, Hesperos? I need you."

Hesperos groans, unable to deny the temptation of kissing those pouty lips of his. He could feel the triumphant curve of Corbett's smile as he kisses him with burgeoning desire. Still so cheeky.

Hesperos nips at those plump lips with blunt teeth, so very tempted to sink his fangs into him. He could wait, however. Corbett's blood would be all the more delicious when his body was in the throes of orgasm.

Corbett moans, leaning in and licking over Hesperos' mouth. Hesperos sucks in a breath and grabs the elezen's jaw. His thumb slips into the elezen's open mouth, rubbing over his warm, wet tongue.

"If you are so hungry, wrap those pretty lips of yours around my cock. Suck me. Lick me with your lustful little tongue," Hesperos says with a fanged smile as Corbett breathes in heated little puffs, saliva pooling over his tongue as he sticks it out for him. His violet eyes were already hazy with lust. What a good little pet. Hesperos slides his fingers over Corbett's tongue, thrusting lazily into his mouth. "Perhaps if you please me I will be convinced to indulge your greedy desires."

He leans back against the pillows, resting his cheek on his hand as he regards the smaller man with an expectant gaze. "Well? Convince me."

Corbett perks up. No sooner had Hesperos given him the command did the elezen scramble up from his position straddling the keyward's lap to instead lay beside him on the bed. Hesperos' fancy trousers already deftly untied and spread open by his practiced, eager hands.

Hesperos' sizeable arousal caught and cradled in Corbett's soft, delicate hands.

Hesperos took a slow breath as his pet stroked his hands over him. Caressing him gently, teasingly as his plump lips pressed kisses to the hemitheos' long, thick cock. From one side to the other does he kiss him from base to tip and down again. His lips part, his hot breath ghosting over him in moist puffs before he began to lick him slowly. Sucking gently at his skin and nibbling delicately with his blunt teeth.

Hesperos swallows, the easy pattern of his breath becoming heavy with desire as Corbett wrapped those plush lips around the tip of his prick and swirled his tongue around him. Rivulets of drool dripping from his hungry tongue to drip down Hesperos' shaft. Aught that Corbett uses to slick the way of his hands as he wraps his fingers around him and strokes him slow and steady in a rhythm that matches the bob of his head as he takes him in deeper.

Hesperos twitches, gritting his teeth as he rests a hand on the elezen's head. His claws tangle in his silky black hair as Corbett dips his head lower and lower.

By the star, Hesperos was all too glad he had decided to indulge in the pleasure that Corbett could give him. The hemitheos licks over his lower lip and cups the back of his pet's head, stroking his hair as Corbett sucks him dutifully, that clever tongue swirling around him.

Hesperos nearly pierces his own lip with a fang as Corbett takes him deep into his throat, swallowing him down. He looks down at his pet with hooded eyes, gold irises flaring purple with strong desire.

Corbett meets his gaze with glazed violet eyes, his lips stretched obscenely around the girth of his cock and his cheeks and ears flushed so prettily.

"Enough," Hesperos chokes out in a raspy voice as his own lust nearly gets the better of him.

He presses his palm flat to Corbett's scalp, making a fist in his hair as he tugs him gently up. The elezen's resulting moan is nearly his undoing as it vibrates through him.

"Are you pleased, keyward Hesperos?" Corbett asks breathlessly, the cheeky little devil.

Hesperos crashes their mouths together, kisses the sass right out of his pretty plaything. Corbett melts into him, clutching at Hesperos' coat as the larger man kisses him so dizzy that he swoons.

"Was there ever any doubt that you would have what you want, you spoiled little thing?" Hesperos grouses, trailing his lips rough and wet over Corbett's jaw and setting his teeth there as he bites a path over his throat without breaking the skin.

Corbett moans encouragingly, entirely limp and willing in Hesperos' grasp as the aether vampire marked him by sucking bruises into his skin. "I never know with you," he replies, running his hands through the keyward's pale hair as he tipped his chin back and enjoyed the larger man's attention.

"Turn around," Hesperos growls, but does not wait for Corbett to obey before he is manhandling the elezen himself. Shoving him face first into the pillows as the hemitheos grasps his hips and raises his perky bottom high.

His familiar magic pouring into Corbett as he spreads his cheeks to look at his pretty little hole.

Corbett gasps as Hesperos' tongue swipes over him. Swirling lewd and wet over the puckered, sensitive skin between his cheeks. He grasps at the sheets, his knuckles clenching in the fabric as the keyward wriggled his tongue against him. Pressing in firm with that long, slick appendage and slipping inside of him.

Corbett whines, rocking back towards Hesperos' face as the hemitheos thrust into him with his delightfully monstrous tongue. Long and thick, it was almost comparable to the size of his cock. Except his tongue was flexible, and wriggly.

Corbett buries his face in the pillows, muffling his cries as Hesperos devoured him in an entirely different way. One that had Corbett's hips jerking uncontrollably as he was tongue fucked by his aether vampire.

"Please, please, please," Corbett sobbed, his pleasure near peaking.

But Hesperos pulls back, leaving Corbett empty and wanting. Whining needfully in his lust. "Hesperos!"

Hesperos laughs evilly. "No, my little Corbett. Begging will avail you naught this night. You will cum on my cock, or not at all."

Corbett wiggles his hips, desperate. Grasping at the cheeks of his perky butt to spread himself open. "Give it to me!"

Hesperos huffs, tempted to deny him for daring to be so demanding. If the man wasn't such an irresistible sight spread open and so obviously needing him.

"Take it then," Hesperos growls, stroking over his freshly lubed cock and pressing forward to nudge against his pet's greedy little hole.

Corbett moans out his satisfaction, "Ah! Yes! Fuck me!"

Hesperos laughs in his throat and does just that. He grasp his lover's hips and thrusts forward. Sinking into him ilm by ilm. There was no waiting to adjust as Corbett was well used to his size by now, and the elezen was a greedy little thing that rocked his hips back into him with impatience.

Hesperos leans over him, wrapping his arms about his lover and thrusting his hips. His teeth scrape over the silky skin of the elezen's back, leaving small bites here and there as he sups on the man's aether in the midst of their lustful intercourse.

"Yes, yes, yes," Corbett gasps and sighs, his low hanging head splaying his silky hair over the pillows. "More! Deeper!"

Hesperos hisses between his fanged teeth as he lifts the smaller man upright with him, still fucking into him as he leans Corbett against his chest and rests him against his thighs.

"How is it?" He growls into the elezen's ear, sweeping his dark hair aside in preparation to bite into his throat.

"Good," Corbett mewls lustfully, pressing a hand against his belly. Hesperos was so deep. So long and thick that Corbett swore he could feel the bulge of his shape against his palm. "Fuck me harder," he groans. "Make me forget my name."

Hesperos laughs wickedly, lifting at the backs of Corbett's knees and holding him easily as he snaps his hips with wild abandon.

"Hahh! I…! Ah…!" Corbett's head tilts back as his whole body jerks, his orgasm catching him suddenly by surprise.

Hesperos takes the opportunity to sink his teeth into his skin, feeding on the taste of his orgasmic bliss. This was the flavor he craved. The spice of pleasure that had become his addiction. No aether had tasted so sweet to him as this. Corbett was the most delectable creature he had ever fed upon.

Hesperos' bite makes the hero's pleasure last all the longer, but the aether vampire stops before he can drain his little pet to exhaustion.

"Once more," Corbett pleads in a breathy gasp. Trembling so deliciously in the aether vampire's embrace. The afterglow of his bliss made him so very pliant and relaxed.

Hesperos chuckles, kissing over his neck and licking the mark of his teeth. "I expected as much."

He lifts his little pet off of him, the sight of his seed dripping down the elezen's thighs making his eyes glow bright with pleasure and renewed lust.

"You know what to do," Hesperos says with a grin that was all teeth.

Corbett straddles him again without shame, looking over his shoulder as he reaches behind to grasp Hesperos' cock. Rubbing it up against himself in a bit of a tease to both of them before settling again in the keyward's lap, sinking the long, girthy shape of his aether hungry lover back inside of him ilm by ilm.

Hesperos squeezes his waist with clawed hands, but leaves the rest all to Corbett. Watching the smaller man with a lustful purple gaze as Corbett moves slowly at first, but gradually picks up the pace. His hands braced against the keyward's chest as he bounces in his lap.

Hesperos' claws prick at the elezen's waist as Corbett uses him to get himself off. His pretty little prick flushed a delectable color and began to drool with precum as he worked himself up again.

"So," Corbett gasps and whimpers, "close! Mm, Hesperos… Hesperos!"

Hesperos growls in his throat and can wait no longer. He grips his little lover's hips and takes control. Maneuvering him easily with his strength as he bounces the elezen on his cock, quickening the speed of things to a pace that had Corbett's back bowing and his blunt nails clawing over his abdomen.

"Yes, yes!" Corbett moans, sighing with satisfaction as Hesperos fucks into him with perfect precision. The slap of their skin filling the quiet as Hesperos adjusts their position to milk against that spot that had Corbett reacting with toe curling pleasure.

Hesperos laughs as he makes his little pet cum again just that easy, but does not stop even as Corbett falls limp against his chest.

He chases his own release, hissing through the grit of his fangs as Corbett squeezes around him. So hot, so tight.

He bites his little lover again, feeding on the pleasure the other man was feeding as much as he was on his aether. Corbett gives a sweet little cry and reaches his peak again, helpless in Hesperos' grasp.

The hemitheos groans, lifting his head to kiss Corbett as he fills him up with the hot gush of his seed.

Corbett makes a small sound, breathing through his nose as Hesperos plunders his mouth in a deep, hungry kiss with his long tongue. His hands grasping at pale hair and roving over the keyward's clothed back as he is kissed and kissed and kissed.

"I will never let you go, my Corbett," Hesperos whispers possessively as their string of kisses comes to a pause.

Corbett cannot find it in himself to protest or complain. He did not wish to leave Hesperos at all. He was far too addicted to the man now, in every sense of the word. Addicted to his touch, his words of affection and praise, his undivided attention. "Nor will I, Hesperos," the elezen murmurs with conviction, gazing at Hesperos with dreamy violet eyes as he lifts a hand to caress the pale grey of the keyward's cheek.

Hesperos kisses his palm, sighing through his nose. "Let us rest now, my dear. Unless you desire more…?"

Corbett smiles, leaning into the man. "I am satisfied. For now."

"Insatiable," Hesperos chuckles, wrapping the smaller man in his embrace and drawing his cape around them as he laid them down. It was a small intimacy that Corbett enjoyed. Though there were blankets and pillows aplenty to wrap themselves and sleep in, his little pet had confessed that he was most comfortable wrapped in the soft comfort of his cape, held in the warmth of his embrace with Hesperos' scent filling his nose with every breath.

Corbett settles against him comfortably, entirely relaxed in his arms. A content hum in his throat as Hesperos combs through the mass of his black hair with his clawed fingers. Untangling any knots he finds with a calm sort of patience.

Corbett nuzzles his cheek into Hesperos' chest. Lifting his head in want of more kisses.

Hesperos gives a quiet laugh, already meeting him in the middle with a soft press of lips. Anticipating his wants and needs without his dear Corbett needing to ask him.

They kiss slow and soft, more a brushing of lips than the deep kisses they shared in the heat of the moment that was intercourse. Corbett becomes sleepier, his kisses less coordinated as Hesperos continues to stroke his hair and over his back.

"Sleep, my dear Corbett," Hesperos murmurs, wrapping him snug in his cape. "I will be here when you wake."

Corbett smiles and lays his head down on Hesperos' chest. Listening to the sound of his heart as the feel of the man's fingers in his hair and the scrape of his claws over his scalp soothes him into slumber.

Hesperos gazes down at his little pet, twining his dark hair around his clawed fingers. A possessive obsession burning in his breast not unlike what he felt for master Lahabrea, but this was different.

Corbett was here, in his embrace.

Corbett wanted him. Craved him just the same. There was no yearning, no unrequited pining. Corbett was his.

"How quickly you have turned my loyalties," Hesperos' lips tug up at the corners. He drags his knuckles over Corbett's smooth cheek, his intense purple gaze lingering on Corbett's soft smile. "Even I am no different, becoming caught in your pull as you have done to every poor fool who crossed your path."

So far Hesperos had kept clear of the other two in their search to find the lost Corbett. Yet he knew there was only so much time left until they found him--while Erichthonios was liable to blunder about in the dark forever, his white-haired companion displayed a disconcerting level of competency. What if Erichthonios and his newest companion crossed paths with master Lahabrea? He would need to make plans. Aught to fall back on should the worst happen. He would not lose Corbett now.

He was more certain than ever that he could not give him up. It was as if Corbett had lit a spark within him. Hesperos felt more himself every day that he lingered in his company. Was it his aether that made him see more clearly? Was it Corbett himself, so refreshing and different from anyone that Hesperos had met in this dark and dreary place? He did not know for certain. All he knew was that he did not wish to be parted from him. Not for a moment longer than necessary. He was quite serious about keeping the man for the rest of his life.

Hesperos holds him tighter, wrapping him up in his embrace. His nose burrowing into Corbett's silky, fragrant hair. Corbett so thoroughly belonged to him, down to his very scent. Herbal, woody, and smoky, like the soaps and perfumes that Hesperos favored. The keyward decided the two of them ought to indulge in another leisurely soak in the bath when his pet awoke.

"More foolish were they for letting you go," Hesperos says softly, his lips pressing to the elezen's hair.

"You are mine, Corbett. Let them try to take you from me."

[thefinalwitness]

prompts for aiha stolen from my classes :3c describe her daily routine with all five senses and/or write something beginning with the last text/message you sent someone

HELLOOOOOOOOO KIM i did write this on thursday (friday???? i forget when i asked already 😂) but then i couldnt muster proofreading it until today. this was a lot of fun thank you so so much!!!!

this takes place between patch 6.0 and 6.1, but i hope it makes enough sense to anyone who's not there! mild endwalker spoilers!

---

It always starts like the very first day: She feels the dawn's light on her face, so soft and warm, it always stirs her to consciousness. Up with the sun, they say, and that's very much L'aiha.

She doesn't linger long in bed; yawns, slips into a light robe, and begins her day. First, she cleans herself up: brushes her hair, her teeth, washes her face, and gets dressed in a light, airy outfit.

Next is the stretches: every morning she feels her body and magic has stiffened overnight, and she aims to restore the fluidity of both. Failing to do so would be detrimental for her; a disability she'll always have to maintain against. But the exercises feel good, once they stop hurting, so she doesn't mind.

Usually by the end of that, she hears her fellow bedmate stirring. Y'shtola is not quite a 'break of dawn' person, but still rises early. While L'aiha stretches, Y'shtola freshens up and heads downstairs to the kitchen.

After exercises, L'aiha showers and dresses for the day ahead. She always tries to smell nice but mild; faintly flowery, maybe fruity if she's feeling bold, but never overpowering, to make certain she can smell the breakfast and coffee as it wafts into the second floor.

Downstairs, Mr. Froddo is always there, preparing meals L'aiha doesn't ask him to. He does so anyway, just so he can put the plate in front of her as she sits down.

She sees dodo eggs and aldgoat sausage, as well as pancakes made from the latter's milk and syrup harvested from the trees of the Dravanian Hinterlands. She sees, too, Y'shtola sipping away at her coffee, already deep in the notes she sleepily wrote herself last night about whatever project she's on. Right now, it's interplanar travel.

Soon enough, they will embark back to the Great Gubal Library for another day-long excursion and study session. But before that, L'aiha savors the taste of her eggs and pancakes. The morning is often quiet, wherein neither woman speaks overmuch; an opportunity to settle into their own selves, knowing the long walk to the Library will afford many questions of 'how did you sleep?' and 'what are we looking for today?'.

L'aiha does like to join her hand with Y'shtola's though; to feel that softer yet magic-worn skin. It's not exactly like the callouses of weaving or brandishing a blade, but it nevertheless speaks to her prowess and experience as a sorceress. Y'shtola never recoils, instead interlocking their fingers as she reads, and sometimes casting a smile L'aiha's way.

L'aiha can guess the weather before she sees it. She can smell when it has rained, can feel the lacking warmth when it's cloudy, and only feels perfectly like herself when neither is the case. Only when she can taste the scent of dry, blossoming flowers does her day begin on the highest note.

They will set out soon. In the Library is air that tastes both stale with desertion and tangy with magic. It smells pungently of dust, ever making her sneeze. It looks like a crypt, no matter how much she cleans as she goes. It sounds endless, bottomless; an abyss with the best of acoustics.

And it feels familiar. The books, the devices, the sprawling halls and winding stairs. She has been here many times; some remembered, but most predating her amnesia.

Yet, despite its decrepit, abandoned state, she is comfortable here. A memory unplaced, but familiar all the same.

[okami-zero]

Endwalker

So I am glad I decided to postpone taking that quest until today because...

I just finished it. I finished Endwalker (well, 6.0, at any rate).

Cut for spoilers

So when we got to Ultima Thule, I really did not know what to expect. Then Thancred goes missing (which I dreaded as soon as I saw him go at Meteion). And then I figured Estinien was going to provoke the indolent dragons back to some semblance of their former selves, but nope! And and and... I mean, even without the focus, I could rather tell which Scion was going to square off with which tortured nihilist souls. Fucking Raha MADE ME CRY, GODSDAMMIT. The song playing for that part prolonged it, just...

And then THE TWINS MADE ME CRY. (SQUEENIX I SWEAR TO HALONE YOU LET ME HUG ALISAIE RIGHT FUCKING NOW!!!) But what really got me bawling was after the twins.

The walk. And hearing all those voices (including some no longer with us). I was mostly recovered from the twins, but then the first voice came at me and I'm like, "...wait what...? Was that...?" ANd I started walking to the next shadow - and it's Papalymo. And then Moenbryda. And I was a fucking mess, doing my best to be able to hear each voice. Hien made me smile, as did Midgardsormr (or was it Seto?), but you know who just fucking ended me for several minutes?

Ardbert saying "Let's end this". God, I am gonna cry again, hang on...

Okay, I'm good, at least to finish this.

And then, Hades and Hythlodaeus! <3 And that whole stretch. Using the Ancients' creation magic to finally get through to Meteion (that hurt my heart to see, too). Hades whole thing about why he gave Akagi Azem's stone, urging him to do as Azem did and explore? Loved it! And then...look, I will never not get the shivers when the Azem summon goes off, okay? It's got the same power as when in one of the last episodes of G Gundam before a boss fight, Nastasha goes, "RING THE BELL, DOMON KASSHU!" (Get the fight started, basically, but there's more to it, just trust me). And it's not really the shivers, sort of? Like, it's hard to describe but the power of it, gets me every time.

And Akagi being a shit and teleporting everyone away. And then The OTHER Azem summon and the Trial...and me and another person were first timers, and the folks in there asked how we were liking Endwalker (Me: "Lots of tears, but good!"). I, uh, *really* need to get better about my mititgation (Trusts have spoiled me a bit) and I went into the fight blind, so I missed some dodges and died twice, almost in a row (us tanks both went down the second time, same hit, too. And we were both PLD LOL). But they were super awesome. And I thought we failed the run... And then the cutscene with the Scions praying on the Ragnarok... oof. Just, everybody was like "LET'S FUCKING GOOOOO!!!" and we nailed it.

And CBU3 punched my feels again when Meteion is lamenting to Akagi (look, there were so many places in Endwalker where Akagi's natural predilection to hugs was sorely tested, okay?). The thing that killed me, after her once more asking if they can be friends, was the little sob-gasp and the tear after he takes her hand. Like, he just opened up and let her see and feel everything. Brought her back from the brink. That little moment, right there... all but indelibly etched into my mind.

And THEN, Zenos. Who showed up and backed us up for Endsinger, yea, okay. But finally, he got the showdown he wanted, and Akagi putting everything he had in that last punch? Totally on point. Also, his teleport device (which should have been back on the Ragnarok) showing up right then? Honestly, it's kind of up to interpretation, but... my money is Meteion or one of the Ancients. Somehow.

And the waking up. So this scene just...Raha and Alisaie... Now this scene I need to rewrite, because Akagi would be hugging the shit out of all of them, possibly breaking down a bit (honestly, he would probably have a full-on breakdown once they had been back, whether at the Annex or the Stones. Just, waking from a nightmare and needing everyone there for him to see, to feel, reassure himself that they were okay, that he made it, that they all made it. And then the "disbanding" of the Scions was tough, too. But in a good way. ^_^ Another thing, he would make sure that they knew that they are his family now. More than comrades, more than friends. Family.

And, uh...Azem. That was Azem, right? (Do they use a different VA if the WoL is female? Or is it the same?) But...that voice...and Pandaemonium, eh? Oooh...

So got some new quests to pick up. x3

But I am heading for bed because I stayed up til 4 fucking AM EST to do this, because I did NOT want to break this up, I wanted the whole finale in one go, in my face and DAMN.

Let's see if I can sleep, so much to process.

And maybe some writing this weekend, because m muse finally decides to wake up after all that. Should get through my asks first, but yea. x3

Okami, out (like a light).

[dane-ffxiv]

Prompt #30: Sojourn

(note: contains spoilers from 6.0: Endwalker MSQ)

—

Days after the battle that took place among the stars, Dane's body still ached. Cuts and bruises on the surface only began to fade, but she still struggled to stay upright at times. All because that man had to find her at the edge of the universe. For once, she let her ego get in the way and fought him to the death. At least he felt content with the outcome as he slipped away. It only left Dane with heavy guilt.

She stood on the deck of the airship, clinging to the railing to keep herself upright. Peace was upon them, but still she thought of those final moments. The aches of her injuries only reminded her more.

"Everythin' alrigh'?"

Joseni stood at her side, grabbing her waist to lean into him. She looked up at him with a nod, but couldn't bring herself to smile.

"...Tired. Tying up loose ends in Mor Dhona took longer than expected. I'm sure you felt the same, especially since you had to wait around for me."

"Nah, doesn' bother m'. Never has." He said with a smile, focusing his gaze on her hair flowing in the wind. He couldn't help but reach for a strand to place it behind her horn.

"Pfff, I'm glad. But now you have me all to yourself. Speaking of, am I allowed to know where we're headed?"

"Nope. I's jus' somewhere far away where we can b' alone fer a while. A long while. Enough t' convince y' t' get bonded."

She looked down at the ring on her left hand. A promise they had both made to one another, and hers weighed heavier. He was eager, but she had a condition– returning to this star after saving it. She wanted to be his wife forever or not at all. Having the ceremony with uncertainty wouldn't bring happiness to either of them.

"...You don't have to convince me. I already gave you my answer." She wrapped her arms around his neck, offering a weak smile through the pain. But it was still a genuine one.

"Alrigh', lass. Can't take i' back now. But le's wait until yer all better. I don't wan' t' see y' wobblin' down the aisle in pain." She started to laugh, cut off by a groan. That damned pain in her ribs crept up on her. But it only made his comment funnier.

"...Deal."

[silvaswiftcast]

FFxivWrite2024 Prompt #16: Third-rate

Characters: Silva Cataracta and Estinien Wyrmblood

Rating: General

Summary: Silva saves a dear friend from making a bad purchase while they browse through the Thavnairan Markets.

Notes: I wasn't too sure what I was going to do for this prompt, but I really liked what I came up with! This scene takes place sometime after Endwalker 6.0!

Content Warnings/Additional Tags: Playful Banter, Mentions of Polyamory Relationship (V Relationship), Mentions of M/F/M Relationship. If I forgot to tag something, I'm sorry!

» Link to Chapter

[karoiseka]

Hail

Endwalker 6.0 Spoilers!!

((Hoooooooo boy.  this.  Not just ran away from me, but scruffed me and ran away with me with it.  It’s 3710 words long.  It is, by FAR my longest prompt response EVER, and prob one of my longest things I’ve slammed out.  And it’s getting direct continuation sequel for tomorrow because I *could not finish* what I wanted to with this one before time ran out.  And the word works.  Or this wouldn’t be getting posted till the whole damned thing was fully written because I’m insane.  Have Karo’s inner thoughts on “In from the Cold.”  Yes, official diag is liberally borrowed for this entire thing.))

Her head pounded.  Karo tried to get a train of thought going, but it was difficult to remember what last had happened.  She had been… at Camp Broken Glass.  They had finally gotten the refugees from the train station to join them–or at least most of them–and they were having a meal, at long last.  A warm meal with plenty of fire and warmth spread around the camp.  Not quite melting the snow underfoot, but enough that one was at least not shivering under the clear night’s air.

Then had come the terrible scream.  Her head still echoed with that terrible noise emanating from the Tower, and chaos had broken out all around them.  The non-natives were protected by their scales, but no one could reach the Garleans in time.  They were being Tempered before their very eyes.  Even as she had moved to help restrain, a familiar voice had called out to her then–

Darkness.

She took a deep breath, then another, centering herself, and tried not to panic further–it would only egg Fandaniel on.  Something wasn’t right though.

“The experiment was a success, but I fear our time is short!”  The Ascien's voice sounded like it was coming through a cotton scarf–and where the sound was coming from was even stranger–directly to the side of her head.  Fighting the pain, she tried to open her eyes–but all swam before her eyes, the pattern of a Garlean table was the only thing in sight before she closed them again, letting the pain take over her senses.

“I shall begin the preparations,”  her heart sank, but she couldn’t fight the darkness that overwhelmed her with the pain any longer.  What did he have planned for her?  Gods, the Scions wouldn’t have any idea where she had gone to.  Raha and Thancred would be worried–she had promised them that she would try not to worry them.  Much luck that was doing.

“Now… it is time for you to awaken,” that grating voice once again reached her ears.  It was little clearer than before, but still in that odd placement.  Her head still pounded, but Karo dragged her eyes open to see a meal spread out in front of her–one she couldn’t smell or even sense with aetheric means.  Reaching inward, she almost blacked out again as pain wracked her mind.  What was going on?

“Good morrow to you!  Here–have a taste before it gets cold.”  Karo rolled her head up to look at the former Asai’s smug face–freezing in place as her eyes saw who sat at the other side of the table, not more than 10 fulms away.

Zenos.  The Prince was pointedly ignoring her and his conspirator, as he silently ate his own plate of dinner.  Karo’s heart sped up, even as she could feel herself break out into a cold sweat seeing him so near after so long.  She had seen him briefly, through Estinien’s eyes with the Echo vision of him killing his father, but other than that brief vision–

The arc of blood spraying from his neck as he fell before her—Lyse rushing forward to try and stop him from escaping judgment.  It had been a lifetime ago.  It had been a heartbeat ago.  Every instinct in her screamed at aching muscles to flee at the sight of him, despite having finally bested him, she still felt like his prey, not vice versa.  The awareness suddenly of her body had Karo suddenly looking down at fully gloved hands, horror growing with every new sensation her nerves brought to her mind.

“Oh, but be sure to remove your helmet.  Take a moment, too, to familiarize yourself with that borrowed flesh,”  Fandaniel’s words nailed the sensation home as Karo attempted to keep conscious once more.  Whose flesh was she in?  Was he even still alive?  It was a he, she noticed as she reeled, the loss of tail being one of the first noticeable differences.  She gripped the edge of the table, balance thrown off even just sitting there as she tried to focus her borrowed eyes.  The gloved hands she absently noted how much larger they were, though not stronger than her normal grip.  Breathing heavily, she could hear it echoed back into the helm, close to her jawline instead of properly on top of her head where she was used to getting her sound from, no large ears to get pinched in the classic soldier’s helm.

“Soooo?  How does it feel?”  The bastard was dressed as a damned butler, attempting to play a part he was ill suited for.  She had to remind herself to keep breathing, get the sense of this new body.  It had no magic, no access to the aether she was so attuned to.

“I, for one, find those first moments within a new body to be most refreshing!”  Nothing was refreshing.  Not even the glass of wine he had placed in front of her.  Stretching her senses the best she could, she started to poke down her familiar bonds and was faced with a wall.  The bonds were there, she could feel the tethers deep in her soul, but they went nowhere.  Dead ends, each and every one of them.  Midgardstormer’s sleepy presence, Feo Ul’s bright spark, her Blessing from Hydaelyn, and dear Ardbert’s voice even was cut off from her own mind as she screamed mentally for him, trying not to wail verbally.

She was starting to not be able to concentrate on his babbling, as he was mentioning something about that damned engineer she had taken out in Ala Mhigo.  Aulus had leveraged a nasty attack that had done something odd to them in the middle of battle, but their bodies had been right there, just a matter of dragging their heavy souls back to it before getting up and finishing the battle.  It had been an interesting sensation, but a one time only–and it hadn’t seemed that the technology had become wide-spread after its creator had perished.  Of course the damned manipulator had found it, and then “improved” it to render her helpless.

“Give me back my body,” the voice was all wrong, too deep, scratchy with disuse, but thick with the emotion that she pushed behind it.  The look Fandaniel gave her didn’t hold an onze of pity, but only more mockery.

“And permit you to go on a righteous rampage instead of partaking in this delicious meal?  I think not,”  he continued to ramble on, refilling Zenos’s cup while prancing around the table, boasting of how good a dog he was to the Prince.  Karo instead focused on wiggling one foot at a time, then the legs as a whole, bridging even more feeling into the unfamiliar.  She flexed her hands against the wood and steel beneath her fingers, and continued to take as deep of breaths as possible.  She had to adjust, had to be able to move in case of an opening.

The echoing scream, albeit softer than the one that had tempered the soldiers, but much, much dangerously closer reverberated off the steel walls.  Karo stared at the large circular door that the sound had come from.  She didn’t have her magical abilities, but she could comprehend the sound of a Primal when she heard one.  

“Oh my!”  Fandaniel’s voice penetrated her haze once more as he watched the door as well, an amused expression on his face.

“Daddy is pleased his grumpy little boy has finally found his playmate!”  Wait.  Daddy?!  The limb in the core of the Tower of Zot was starting to make a sickening sense.  Karo stared at Fandaniel in shock, actually giving him her attention.  This was important.  She had to get this back to the Scions.  Back to them all.

“Ah.  Exposition is in order”  Really?  He was just gonna come out and tell her all this knowledge.  He launched into a history of recent events, and common knowledge of the Empire–the lack of religion, the fanaticism of the people for their Emperor, and the horrible state their country had been left in after the past dozen years.  The comments from the natives were making sense now as well, venerating Emperor Varis, hearing his voice on the radio telling them what to do–it was a sickening revelation.

Anima is what Fandaniel named the new entity that Varis had become, and she was proud of having connected the Towers to his torn body (even if it was just moments ago), strewn across the land to act as an anchor for the drawing of the aether.  It was a Primal–though one that had never been called into existence before, one born of desperation and a loyalty to an Empire instead of a God.  It was a fascinating development in the theory of summoning–if she wasn’t currently in borrowed flesh sitting across from the one man on the star that could cause her to panic–the one man to have beaten her so badly she almost gave up the mantle the land had given her and disappeared into the wilderness.

“Would you not agree, my lord?”  Karo had to turn her entire head to see out of the restrictive helmet that her temporary body was wearing, finally looking back at the Prince–who seemed as bored as ever.

“Does the pursuit of prey you have bested before excite you?”  That voice.  Softly said, but deep and with a hint of the growl of the predator he was.  It stopped her mind in its tracks, staring at him in confusion.  What did that have to do with anything Fandaniel had just been monologuing about?   He continued on, oblivious to her silent response.

“Of course not.  Absent the challenge, the thrill, your prize is a hollow victory.  Butchery.” Butchery like what he had been participating in for years?  Or would he feign that it was his men that partook in that activity, he himself not soiling his hands with the masses, just the large targets, the challenges that interested him.

“Perhaps you think that to be the extent of my promise.  I have no doubt fallen in your estimation since Ala Mhigo.”  There was never any falling.  He still terrified her–haunted her dreams and made her scars ache just thinking of the Reach.  No, there was no falling of him in her mind–if aught else he had become greater, a boogie man to scare the supposed Hero of Eorzea.  

“Fair enough.  But do not let your disdain deprive you–deprive us–of an opportunity to craft an even more majestic moment of euphoria.”  Euphoria.  Is that what he called the battle at the Ala Mhigan palace?  Is that what that drivel he spilled, ranting even though he had been gasping for air in the garden?  There was no “euphoria” on her part.  No joy in that frantic battle, fear seeping into every moment as her companions supported her though that fight she believed she wasn’t coming back from.  It had been slightly easier to face him in the Shinryuu body, instead of his own, blue eyes boring into her own with that bored expression.

“I have been honing my craft as I set the stage for our reunion,”  Her blood ran cold–well, colder–at the words thinking of him practicing even further than the casual power that he had exhibited in the past.  

“Wheresoever there is suffering and despair, you appear, to fulfill your duty as defender of this star,”  Karo’s head started to spin as she gripped the arms of the chair in horror at the realization of what he was saying.

“The chaos and destruction that my hordes have wrought… are my gifts to you alone,” she let out the breath that she had been holding, gasping in shock and disgust.  He had done it all to lure her out?  Played along with Fandaniel’s terrible plans, brought a nation to its knees, just–JUST–to lure her out, to bring her rushing to help so that he could challenge her once more.  Her empty stomach roiled, eyes unblinking as she watched him take a long drink from his glass-hands dwarfing the normal sized cup–setting it down with a measuring look.

“At a loss for words?”  Zenos stood, his height towering over the table as he looked down at her, the body she possessed still much smaller than him, though it was larger than what she was used to.

“No matter.  As you will learn, I have only just begun,” the disdain at her inaction was clear as he strode away from the table, candles flickering with flame, lighting as he reached them.  Karo’s attention had been so fixated on her enemy–and that foreboding door–that she had failed to look to her left and peer into the darkness there.  A single chair sat in the middle of the room, its tall back dwarfing even the Crown Prince.

As the last candles lit the adjoining area in a wash of pale light, she caught a glimpse at the figure propped in the chair like an oversized doll.  Her own body–breathing shallow.  Another visceral memory boring into her brain remembering her dearest friend’s bodies laying comatose in Dawn’s Respite, their souls’ carrying on on the First.

“There is only one thing that can state my hunger, and it would seem my friend has lost her appetite,”  She vaguely realized he was speaking in response to something Fandaniel had said, even as she pushed the chair she was sitting in back, standing with a sway.

“I hoped this display of civility might prove an entertaining diversion, but clearly we are above such pretensions,”  He turned, looking her in the eye, even as she lost her balance, crashing to the floor in a tangled heap without her tail to balance her out. 

"While my lifeless body was in the possession of the Ascian, I too claimed another's as my own," Karo had almost made it to her feet again, arms outstretched as she attempted to balance herself, head spinning. 

"It was an enlightening experience, to fight in an unfamiliar form. Flaws and failings in my technique were plain to see," Panic arose, as Karo fell once more, crawling desperately towards Zenos–towards her body. She didn't know how to force her soul back–maybe just being close like with the soul crystal would work, but she couldn't let him, couldn't stand–

"Whence rises one's true strength? The flesh? The soul? Perhaps you should like to discover the answer for yourself," his voice rose to an exuberant pitch, arms wide and eyes aglow from the false echo as Karo scrambled upright, pitching her body at them, mindless with desperation to stop him.

"Or...together," Zenos' eyes closed as he fell at her feet, and her true body jerked with an unnatural movement.  Karo reeled in place, barely staying balanced as she looked herself in the eye, sapphires blinking back at her, focusing.  She reached–lunged–her body, Zenos, smirked, and instantly teleported away, leaving Karo to slam into the chair with a wordless scream of anguish.

He’s going to go to them.  As me.  He could kill them all instantly and they’d think I betrayed them all.  I have to stop him.  I can barely walk.  I have to stop him. I have to stop him.  I have to–

“Oh dear!” Fandaniel’s taunting voice appeared right behind her as she was frozen in panic, heartbeat deafening her stifled hearing.

“Whatever would happen if my lord were to greet your friends as you?  I shudder to imagine what carnage he would wreak!”  Karo fought to breathe, fought to keep the bile from rising in her throat any further, the Ascien giving voice to her dark thoughts and worst fears.

“We’d better hurry if we want to avert the bloodbath.  You can thank me later for my generosity,”  She finally spun to look at him, even if he couldn’t see her incredulous expression through the helmet.  He bowed mockingly, the purple-black swirl surrounding them both before the chill of the outdoor wind permeated her senss, realizing she was dangled several hundred fulms up, overlooking the city.  Her eyes honed in on the blur on the horizon–her eyesight was horrible–as she willed herself to fly through the air towards the Camp.  Fandaniel was talking again, but she could barely hear him over the wind, before he set them down at the base of the Tower.  Turning on him, she noticed he was back in his normal purple robes, a smirk upon his face.

“Alas, this you will have to walk from here.  Or run, if you can manage it,” the sting at her pride made her realize he had watched her inelegant attempt to reach Zenos while in the Tower, and her face burned in shame.  At least it was getting easier to steady herself and balance–even if she wasn’t moving currently.

“My lord would be cross if I made it too easy,” Karo started to lunge for him, almost losing her balance once more, steading herself instead of trying to move forward any more, a growl deep in her chest.

“Such ingratitude!  I’d not squander this fighting chance.  After all, you’ve obstacles enough to overcome–” he gestured to the city proper, bringing her attention to the mass of tempered soldiers milling about on patrol.  Her own garb wouldn’t protect her against them, they innately knowing their tempered fellows, instead of those that still had free will.

She could hear Fandaniel echoing her own thoughts before a sword and shield materialized in her hands, instinctively clutching them.  The quality was embarrassingly poor, especially when compared to her own meticulously crafted weapons.  It was no wonder she usually could power through them without thinking–leaving them with just enough protection to not perish.  She wasn’t going to have the fine control this time.  She could barely walk, muchless apply most of her specialized techniques–ones that required her magic that was stifled and locked behind this borrowed flesh.

A last taunt from the Ascien, and she was left alone, the cold making stiff limbs ache even further.  Stealth was to be her greatest asset, despite her clumsiness, Thancred had taught her well.  She had gotten caught by the closest soldier as Fandaniel had gotten the poor soul’s attention before disappearing.  Gritting her teeth, she swung, blocking what she could, but was still unbelievably exhausted as her foe finally fell.  It hurt to not be able to control as she usually did, sending a prayer to Thal for the man’s soul to be weighed gently–for he knew not what he did.

And so she climbed over rubble, avoiding the largest of the mechs–a death sentence in her current form.  A broken reaper stood sentinel over the path she needed to take, the mechs thick enough to not be able to sneak through.  A noise in the building to her right led her to the broken form of its pilot–still clutching the key with his senses intact somehow.  He had run out of cerulean, no big surprise there, but said otherwise the weaponry worked fine.  It would help her if she could find even a bit of the fuel.  It was the only way forward–much to her chagrin–so she started scouring the area.  It wasn’t nearly as picked through as near the station, but it still took her too long to find the half-tank to fire up the reaper.

A barrage of carefully aimed shots, the noise bringing reinforcements from all over, and finally the pile at her feet stopped moving.  Her opening was made, and she was only grateful it was machines instead of men that had come to oppose her thus far.

The sound of fighting as she reached the fringe of the city drew her attention.  You can’t afford the delay.  Every moment you spend, he’s closer–he could be there already!  But she couldn't forsake the civilians to their fate, and so she waded in, finally finding her stride as she protected them the best she could, the tempered coming in from all sides.  With horror she realized the helm had blocked the view of a bomb--landed directly in the middle of those she had stopped to protect–and watched as the light turned solid red.  She threw the paper-thin shield in front of her–praying the armor would hold as she was tossed through the air–landing fulms away.  She handed with a crunch, armor crumbling beneath her, as she could feel several ribs cracking under the bent breastplate.  Heartbeat thudding in her ears, she crawled.  Arms nearly giving out from under her.  Every movement was pure agony and she longed to just lay down in the snow and stop.  He was out there though.  In her body.  She had to make it back to Camp.  Had to warn them.

It took more bells than she would have liked, dragging her broken body through the snow and ice, limbs long gone numb with cold.  Precious time had been wasted, having to go around the wild animals in her path, instead of running between them–for they would have eaten her alive.  She used the early morning stars to guide her, watching as the sky lightened in the East, even as she crawled ever forward.  Some small amount of strength returned, and she clawed her way to her feet, wobbling from support to support, but overall making better time than if she had continued to crawl.  She had left the shield, twisted beyond use, laying in the street where she had fallen, the weight too much to try and carry with her.

Stumbling, she could finally make out footprints–ones that looked suspiciously like her actual own–stark against the fresh snow.  Zenos had to have been toying with her.  He could have made it to the Camp bells ago if he had desired, she knew her actual body was fit enough to make the journey without trouble, and there was no way he didn’t know the way.  Cresting the hill, her deep blue coat came into view, even as she saw a pair running down the hill to meet her body–red, white, and gray stark against the gloom as Alisaie skidded to a stop while hailing her, Raha a few steps behind the excited Elezan.

It all came down to this, as she watched the scene unfold…

[unlimited-dark]

FFXIV Write Day #15 - Portentous

Finally, I wrote angst! Spoiler warnings from Endwalker 6.0 - In from the cold quest somewhat. I wanted to write about how Sileas felt when she got back to get some rest.

Aymeric had returned to the Holy See once news of the scions taking down the Tower of Babil in Garlemald had reached the alliance. While his work continued, piles of reports and information poured in from the rescue and treatment efforts within the local areas of Eorzea. Amongst all of this, reports of the scions latest activities had not arrived, likely due to the tremendous task the group was taking upon them. 

Though he was worried for Sileas due to their lack of correspondence, he was certain she was well. That she would face her challenges with her bravery. He wished to contact her immediately on their shared linkpearl, but she might be resting, or too busy to speak. 

Just as he was thinking of her for the day, he found their shared linkpearl ringing late into the night as he was tucking himself into bed. A portentous sign, as his lady would never contact him this late out of concern for his rest. He reached his hand to the sideboard quickly to pick up, freezing in place at the disturbed voice he heard.

“A-ah…Aymeric…you picked up!”

“What is the matter, my dear? You sound…disturbed.”

Though worried, he kept his composure as he talked to her.

“I…well, I wanted to speak with someone. That’s all. I’m sorry. It’s late.”

“It’s nothing to worry about, my love. Tell me. What’s wrong?”

He heard a hesitant breath from the other side of the line when he asked his question.

“A lot has happened. Well…in Garlemald…I…maybe I shouldn’t…”

“You can tell me anything, Sileas.”

Her voice began to tremble, slightly hitched from his answer, as if she was sobbing a little. His heart swelled as she spoke of what occurred to her in Garlemald, her body taken over by the villain Zenos. Clenching his fist, he clutched on the sheets, trying to hold back the urge to rush to Old Sharlayan to comfort her, to tell her that everything would be fine. It was rare for her to show such strong emotion, but he would do his utmost to comfort her. Her voice had quickly turned into sobbing, apologising for disturbing him late in the night.

“I didn’t want to make you worry…but, but…”

“It’s alright, Sileas. I’m relieved that you chose to tell me your feelings. It must have been terrifying for you to be in an unfamiliar body, surviving without your strength. But you were brave. You overcame it.”

“What if it happens again? What if I couldn’t protect the scions? What-”

“You’re overthinking it, love. As much as I wished I could hold you in my arms to comfort you now, I can tell you this. I know you’ve done your best, no matter what happens. And I know that you’ve always done the right thing, with courage and strength. Perhaps every action would not  be able to save everyone, but you’ve done well to carry on, even carrying the burdens of loss with you.”

Aymeric continued to hear soft sobbing amongst her words on the other side of the line, pouring her worries over the adventure so far. And he would reply to each one gently.

“It’s a lot to bear. I think…I’m sure I can bear them, but I’m always worried.”

“Perhaps you can share them with your closest friends in the scions, too? They would be worried. Especially Mistress Alisaie.”

“I know…I will soon…! I’m glad…I could speak with you about it,” she spoke, her voice slightly hoarse from her crying.

“I’m glad you confided in me. This is all I can do, after all.” 

“It’s been a while since I spoke this much about my worries…I’m glad you were here. Like the last time, too.”

He smiled to himself, gently comforting her further when Sileas spoke once more.

“I’m unsure if I’m in my body at all, at times. It was scary. I wish I could touch you right now. M-maybe…a hug, so I could feel that it’s right.”

“Perhaps you could give one to your friends since I’m not there? But I’ll gladly give you one the next time we meet, my love.”

“Yes…! Perhaps I will…!”

They chattered for a short while more, when he heard Sileas yawning.

“You must be exhausted. Rest well now, won’t you?”

“I will. You too, alright?”

“I would. Stay safe, my dear. Good night.”

[practicingbushiho]

It's Okay to cry, Yugiri!!

YuHien microfic taking place 2 years after the major events of Endwalker 6.0

Hurt/Comfort, Confession, G Rating

It is a mild summer night, and Lord Hien Rijin sits upon a hill in Yanxia, Yugiri besides. They had a good meal, and they were to head back to the Enclave shortly-- it was getting rather late. But Hien was enraptured by the starry sky, and distracted by the thoughts of his future, and all of the pointless, frivolous joys he wanted to experience that he never thought possible until so recently.

His mind flashes to her. Ah. He was so grateful to her for protecting his people. Protecting him. Maybe even…loving him. For some reason, instead of the usual fear and disgust he experiences when he considers it, he feels pride, confidence. He beams as he watches a shooting star fly overhead, and he opens his mouth suddenly to speak.

"Ah…I think I love you, Yugiri."

Yugiri, who is sitting beside him is mortified as she jerks her head to look upon him with confusion. He is staring into the sky with a soft smile, ruminating on the affections he wished to share. It…was it happening? After all this time?

"Wh-- …I-- …m…me too…" she finally musters the courage to concede to her stubborn refusal to allow herself feelings. If Hien were growing into a man who could be honest…then she should follow suit. It was only right.

Hien gasps, as if he is shocked, he even received a response. His head whips to look at her, jaw hanging open.

"REALLY? THAT WAS ALL IT TOOK!? THIS ENTIRE TIME!?!?" he speaks as if he feels stupid for just not having said so sooner! He was so paralyzed by the thought of disturbing her or worse, being rejected by her, that he hadn't even considered that she would actually acknowledge his feelings!

Yugiri now looks panicked, as if she's responded incorrectly.

"W-what do you mean!? I thought we were just-- you want me to be a better friend instead of merely a servant, don't you?!" Yugiri after all this time, STILL can't stop herself from feigning her emotions. She is so firmly in denial that Hien would be forever beyond her reach that she can't even try to face the reality that he has just proclaimed his love, lest she start crying uncontrollably! Wouldn't it be easier on them both to lie and remain at a distance!?

Hien can't believe what he is hearing. This whole time, he had merely misread her feelings. It was…embarrassing. No, far worse! He feels his self-loathing bubble up like a well flooded, vines and blooms threatening to snake up his neck to suffocate him completely. The kami must have abandoned him at this point. Of course. Wordlessly, Hien stands up and dusts off his robes. His entire demeanor seems to have shifted, as if he has begun to backslide. He looks at her with a weary smile, and Yugiri's chest tightens when she sees that his eyes suddenly feel…empty.

"I-I'm sorry. It appears I misunderstood. I think…I may need to take a walk." He can't think of any other excuse to get away unattended. He doesn't care. He just needed to leave. Leave before he says or does or feels something that he had no right to be feeling in front of her. He can't even make it two steps before Yugiri is leaping up and clinging to his back, and he feels his eyes sting immediately upon contact.

"I-I'm sorry!" she sobs, the guilt wracking her body. "I-…I really do adore you, Lord Hien! I want to protect you! I just didn't want to cry before you!!" her tears are soaking through the fur on his garb, and he stops moving. For a moment, he stands there. He listens to her cry. He feels guilty. And after a moment, Hien's voice is heard. And it trembles, a shaky laugh falling from his mouth as he turns around, already having been in tears.

"I've gone first. Is it alright now?"

[musesbyarya]

Zero [FFXIV]

“ ... ” ~Zero

Muse tags

Wikipedia

GENERAL INFORMATION

Full name: Unkwown

Nickname: Zero

Age | D.O.B: N/A

Nationality | Home: The Thirteenth Shard

Hair | Eyes: Purple Grey | Grey

Occupation: ---

Affiliation: ---

Orientation: Demiromantic | Demisexual

Voice claim: (tba)

BIOGRAPHY

(tba)

VERSES

Zero.// Verse : Before the Flood of Darkness Interactions:Open for any kind of interactions Takes place: Before the Flood of Darkness on the Thirteenth Shard. Ship: Open

Zero.// Verse : Avatar Interactions: Open for any kind of interactions Takes place: From the moment the pact with Zenos was forged and she became his Voidsent Avatar in spite of herself until Zenos' death in Endwalker (6.0) Ship: Open

Zero.// Verse : The Beggining Interactions: Open for any kind of interactions Takes place: During events that take place after Zenos' death in Endwalker (6.X) Ship: Open

Zero.// Verse : Undefined Interactions:Open for any kind of interactions Takes place: Varied Ship: Open

(Last update: 21/11/2022)

[morocosmos]

Returning - Alisaie, Krile

Intro chapter | Thancred | Urianger | Y’shtola | Alphinaud, Estinien | Tataru

Warrior of Light & Alisaie Leveilleur & Krile Mayer Baldesion

Takes place during Endwalker, just after the end of 6.0. This is a series of vignettes on each of the Scions’ relationships with my Warrior of Light, Moro’a as he’s recovering after the end of the Final Days.

Of all the things Alisaie hates, waiting is high, high up on the list.

She detests standing by, waiting for a resolution to present itself. Left for too long, such frustration is wont to light a fire in her chest, as it has now. The longer it rages on, the hotter it burns – she paces across the room, threatening to wear down the floor beneath her steps while she turns to glance at Moro’a every other second.

It’s all for naught. He remains as unconscious as he was when they’d brought him out of the Ragnarok.

“You,” she starts, turning on her heel and pointing a finger at Moro’a. “Need to wake up. And soon, before I go positively mad! You know I cannot stand waiting around like this, unable to do a thing.”

She’d inherited Father’s urgency, but not Mother’s patience. Nor the temperance that comes so naturally to her mother and brother. Alisaie had accepted this facet of herself long ago – why sit down and fret when she could bring the solutions forward with the work of her own two hands? The sooner it’s done, the better for everyone involved. She loops around the room in an uneven figure of eight, her frustration simmering.

“Think of all the unfinished business you have left,” she persists. “All the people waiting for you to return. You promised you would try to talk to your sister!” Never mind that Deipo likely still hates his guts, and that they’d not spoken since leaving her at Carteneau.

She wants to stay mad – even as it threatens to burn down to the dregs beneath, to where the pit in her stomach has waxed and waned with each passing day, without ever quite leaving.

It’s…unfair, is what it is. That someone like him could have been at the physical brink of death after surviving encounter after impossible encounter. It’s unfair to her that they’d come so far, saved the entire star and beyond for Twelve’s sakes! Only to have fear and anxiety sprout over their victory like thrice-blighted fungi.

“Alisaie? Give me a hand here, will you?” Alisaie snaps to attention as the door is pushed open and in comes Krile, balancing a large teapot and two cups atop a plain white tray.

“Krile,” Alisaie says simply, holding the door so that the woman might more easily pass through. “Is it your turn already?”

“Not for another half bell or so,” Krile replies, setting the tray on a low table to the side of the room’s two chairs. “But I thought you might appreciate the company.”

Alisaie chafes. “I can well watch after Moro’a myself,” she grouses, folding her arms.

“And I was not doubting that.” Krile sits on a chair, smoothing out the folds of her robes before looking at Alisaie with a soft, polite smile. “But watching over him together could not make it worse, surely?”

Alisaie doesn’t have a good argument against that, so she settles for a half-conceding “hmm”. She glances at Moro’a again, pursing her lips as an unpleasant new wave of emotion assails her. Were it not for seeing the faint movement of his breathing, she might as well have thought he’d gone to the beyond, pale and worn as he looks.

“Gods,” she hisses, slumping into the remaining chair.

Krile watches as the fight in Alisaie dissipates, replaced by an anxious buzzing, much like a cloud of vilekin. The situation is so familiar it’s almost distressing, she ponders as she looks from Alisaie to Moro’a. For what it’s worth, it’s far less physically taxing – the sages’ equipment does the work of sustaining their friend’s aether, and apart from the bout of aethershock that had half-frightened everyone out of their wits, Krile has to concede that they’ve done a fine job. But she’d seen the extent of Moro’a’s injuries when they’d carried him out of the ship, and even now guilt twists into her heart as she thinks about the part she’d played in his current state.

Shaking free of such morose thoughts, reaches for the teapot. “Would you like some?” she asks Alisaie. The young woman glances at the pot but remains reticent, shaking her head. Krile pours a full cup for herself, sipping from it quietly as their not-so-companionable silence carries on.

“It’s chamomile, with a sprig of royal mistletoe steeped in,” she says, by way of conversation. “The mistletoe adds naught to its flavour, but Moro’a brought the very same blend over to me once at the Rising Stones, back when the lot of you were still stuck on the First.” That piques Alisaie’s interest, and the elezen turns slightly towards her, listening more intently.

“Was this before or after he’d gotten rid of all the Light inside of him?” she asks.

“Hmm.” Krile puts a finger to her lips, thinking. “It must have been after – he was exhausted, that much was clear – but not in the way I recall sensing before on one of his previous visits. I was too weary myself to investigate any further at the time.” She gives Alisaie an apologetic smile. “I’m afraid I knew not the depths of what our friend was enduring, then.”

But Alisaie only huffs in exasperation. “I don’t blame you,” she replies. She shifts in her chair uncomfortably, her shoulders rigid. “Moro’a was bearing the weight of all those Lightwardens for moons – it took Y’shtola forcing his hand after the third one for him to tell us how much it was hurting him. He’s a little better at telling us about his feelings now, but…that he would still…” she sighs and doesn’t carry on, as though she’d lost her train of thought, or had perhaps decided against following it.

Krile feels the trails of Alisaie’s emotions blow over her, and as her Echo sorts them into recognisable forms, she feels both curiosity and concern for the young woman. “If you wish to say more, your words won’t leave this room,” she assures the young elezen.

Alisaie blinks. She knows Krile means it, and weighs her emotions against her pride.

“I shouldn’t feel mad at Moro’a for staying behind to fight the Endsinger without us,” she begins eventually. “Not when we’d all left him alone just moments before, with only promises and faith to go on.” Never mind that she’d promised Esteem she wouldn’t hold it against him. “But I still do, because when he returned to us, he…”

Something within her cracks, and she turns to face Krile proper. “How can all of you be so calm and patient?” she blurts out. “It’s been three weeks and he has not shown a single sign of waking, save nearly dying on us again! We were so close, so close to getting everyone out, but then he had to go and get himself wounded within ilms of his life.” Her hands ball into tight fists and her bottom lip quivers, but she clenches her jaw shut – she would not cry, not now.

“It’s just that, I hate this – I hate waiting. And feeling so godsdamned much with nowhere to channel it all.” The last words fall from her lips in place of her tears, and she watches uncertainly, with a small amount of embarrassment as Krile sets down her now emptied cup of tea onto the tray.

“Before I say anything about your feelings, I must first apologise.” Alisaie glances at her, but she waits for the older woman to go on. “For I was the one who let Zenos find him in the first place. He’d come to Sharlayan intent on seeking the Warrior of Light, and in desperation I struck a bargain with him.” She scowls as she recalls the former prince’s unshakeable insistence, and the unbearably tense atmosphere that had surrounded them outside the Forum.

It’s…news to Alisaie for sure. “You thought he might lend his aid to us momentarily, in exchange for the battle he so desired,” she says quietly, understanding dawning upon her.

Krile nods. “Perhaps I had been led to trust him because he seemed so willing to compromise for once. But had I known the dangers Moro’a would face in Ultima Thule…” the lalafell shakes her head. “If you must be angry at anyone, I am more far deserving of your ire than Moro’a is.”

But as Alisaie mulls over the information, she’s surprised to find that it has the opposite effect. “If he was so hells bent on fighting Moro’a, he wouldn’t have stopped until he was given the answer he wanted,” she muses. “I could be mad at him instead, but that wouldn’t do anything for me, seeing as he’s likely dead where Moro’a left him. Neither would being mad at you.” She sighs again. “Nor Moro’a, I suppose.”

“What’s done is done,” Krile murmurs. It won’t ease her guilt entirely, but she’s accepted the consequences. “Now, without prying into the other Scions’ personal thoughts and feelings, I can only surmise that everyone else is either dealing with this quite differently. Or merely more privately,” she suggests gently. “I can however tell you of how terribly worried I was for the lot of you back then, watching over you in the Dawn’s Respite. When no solution had yet been found and I could sense each of your life’s essences slowly but surely ebb away, despite my efforts to sustain your aether.”

Krile pauses, as though momentarily caught in a memory, and Alisaie feels moved to ask her if she’s alright until she speaks again. “Tataru, the other Scions – even F’lhaminn on occasion would visit, when I could allow for it. None of us could remain highly optimistic for long, facing such an unknown, dire situation as we were. But such visits proved invaluable in keeping my spirits up. It was comforting to see my worries mirrored on their faces, if just for a few moments. As it was to see the depth of Moro’a’s concern for all of you, too.” Alisaie looks up in surprise.

“Moro’a spoke with you? About us?”

“He did, yes,” Krile answered. “Granted, I likely would have pried sooner or later, but he approached me first. Though he was doing his best to remain level-headed, it was undeniable how much he wished to see all of you safely home, and that he would do everything he could to ensure that.”

Of course he would…Alisaie can’t help but admit to herself that Moro’a’s resilience and ability to remain calm in the face of many a challenge are the very qualities she admires most about him. Moreso knowing how deep some of his emotions run, and how much they’ve gotten to him in the past. But the fact that he’d sought a listening ear in the middle of it all is what truly soothes her heart.

“I suppose what I mean from all this is that you needn’t shy away from your feelings, even if the others may not express themselves the same way,” Krile concludes. “And I daresay that seeing such open emotions would do them a lot of good, as well.” Alisaie runs through her words, weighing them and turning them over like a stone in her mind. The feeling is a solid one, and it fortifies her. Yes, she thinks. She’ll feel what she feels in full, and face everything with her heart on her sleeve.

“Thank you,” she tells Krile, and the scholar nods, beaming. “After such a conversation, I find myself needing more tea,” Krile declares. “And I do feel compelled to ask again – would you like some?”

Alisaie smiles back. “I might as well enjoy it before it gets too cold,” she accepts. “Allow me.”

As she’s pouring tea into the cup in Krile’s hands however, the lalafell freezes, her expression immediately changing to one of shock. Alisaie slowly follows her gaze towards the bed. No…what now?

“Did I – I could have sworn I’d sensed his consciousness–

Alisaie doesn’t wait for Krile to finish; in an instant, she’s flown over to Moro’a’s side. True to Krile’s senses, he’s making a face, as though reluctantly stirring from a deep, deep slumber.

“Moro’a? Can you hear me??” Alisaie calls to him. It occurs to her that it might just be Esteem again, but she casts that thought aside – by the gods, if it isn’t Moro’a, she’ll force them to wake him up.

Very slowly, the Keeper’s eyes flutter and open by a fraction, followed by a low groan. Alisaie and Krile watch him with bated breaths. Several seconds later, a fraction becomes a quarter-ilm.

“Moro’a?” His gaze slides over towards them, and he seems to realise who he’s looking at; recognition softens his expression in an instant.

“Sorry.” It’s barely a whisper, but to Alisaie it’s as clear as the toll of the Studium’s bell, and at long last she lets herself cry as she takes his hand into hers, grinning through her tears.

“Don’t be.”