#the way that Aza's terrified of her but also half in love with her

[daisywords]

Going insane over Fairest reread I love when beloved books from days of yore are as good as I remember

[kivaember]

could you answer all the character flaw questions? i just -clenches fist- love aza

ahdjaa oh goodness, I’m glad you like him that much…!!!!! okie i will answer the character flaw questions remaining, though they’ll be under the cut because they’re so long… 

Thanks for this, I really enjoyed writing these out ;;w;; 

🙊what would my muse say their biggest flaw is?

Aza tends to be very aware of his shortcomings, albeit in a very self-deprecating manner, so he would say his biggest flaw is his fear. His fear of everything. He gets frightened very easily, but he covers it up with a mean poker face or aggression, depending on the situation, and it does mean sometimes he tends to lash out or be overly harsh without meaning to. He hates being so fearful, so it’s a flaw he utterly despises within himself. 

⧱ what really is my muse’s biggest flaw?

Being eager to please. This is linked to his fear, so Aza has the right of it that it is his biggest flaw, but his desire to be likeable and useful to those he deems his friends and family, as well as being fearful that he’ll be left behind if he isn’t likeable or useful, means he neglects his own health, mental or physical, at times. 

With Bluebird, Atani and Aruci, it’s not as bad, because they see through that shit and make sure he doesn’t say ‘yes’ just to keep them happy (and, because, deep down, he’s fearful of being ‘too troublesome’ and being tossed out, a fear that he knows is irrational but one he has anyways). With the Scions in ARR, he had it BAD, trying to twist and cram himself into the role of Warrior of Light, to the extreme detriment of his own comfort and happiness, just so he measured up to these expectations that the Scions were beginning to have in him. Things are better with the Scions since SB, but yeah, if he likes someone, or wants to be liked by someone, he almost becomes a doormat. He’s gotten better since SB though. 

🤳name three physical imperfections my muse has (birthmarks, gray hairs, muscular definition, etc).

1. Heavy scarring all over his body. They’re stark, thick and pull across each other from time to time, and Aza thinks they look a little ugly, but also gets a dark thrill at ‘ruining’ the ‘beautiful body’ he was coveted for in his earlier years. With his body so scarred, he feels no one would want him like that ever again, which is a comfort…

2. His hair is beginning to prematurely grey, much to Aza’s dismay. So at the moment he has grey streaks in his hair, which are very obvious, and he can’t stop it at all. He hates visible signs of his age. 

3.  Poor joints and bone health. His childhood, with its rough living and malnutrition, coupled with the stress of living under Master Musa, then growing up on the Steppes and moving into mercenary life in his 20s, mean his body is just fucked. This is linked to the scarring, but Aza does have early onset of osteoarthritis as well as cartilage degradation that White Magic just can’t cure. His body is just close to done, and it’s highly likely that he will end up retiring from fighting in his forties, unless he wants to permanently cripple himself for good. 

🙈what’s my muse’s biggest blind spot?

Bluebird. Holy crap Bluebird is his biggest blindspot ever. Even though he’s aware Bluebird can be a massive asshole, especially to him and his friends, he fucking loves the hell out of her and thinks she can do no real wrong. Be petty and annoying, maybe, but not any real wrong. It does mean he can kind of be swept up in her energetic wake, and get dragged into stressful situations because of it…

😰when my muse is stressed, how do they act out?

 As mentioned above, he tends to get aggressive if he’s stressed out or scared. He finds comfort in projecting a show of strength and viciousness, and especially if that gives him space, because when he’s stressed he hates being crowded or fussed over even more. However, he knows that snapping at his loved ones is a bad habit to get into, so he tends to isolate himself and wallow for a while. He used to also drink himself into oblivion, but Aymeric put his foot down on that, so now he tends to wander to the closest Chocobo stables to let the birds calm him down, or do something with his hands like crafting or repairing his gear, or something. 

💚what does my muse get envious over?

People having their shit together, or carefree lives. Like, he’s so fucking jealous of Bluebird being so confident and fearless, and it burns him so bad that he’s still this frightened, jumpy little boy that he never really grew up from. He wants to be confident without an edge of terror of failing dogging his steps, he wants to be fearless just because it seemed so stress-free… so yeah, he gets jealous of that really badly. 

🚫what is one thing my muse wouldn’t want someone else to know about them?

His past. Holy fuck his past. It took over a year for Aymeric to learn about Aza’s past, and even then he doesn’t have hard details and Aza had been forced to tell him because of exceptional circumstances. The Scions? No. Nope. He’d sooner die than tell them. He has intense shame over what happened with Master Musa, as well as his hand in his sister’s death (that he still remembers unreliably…), and he’s terrified that if they know, they’d think him lesser, or deficient in some way… or pity him. 

If he could, he’d carve out that past from his history and burn it into nothing. But sadly, he’s gotta carry it, and only a scant handful of people that he can count on one hand, know about his past. Which he’ll keep that way, thank you very much. 

✍️does my muse have a learning disability?

Not a disability as such, but he does have a mental block when it comes to writing because of his past experiences. He struggles to write, and while he’s bullied himself into being able to scrawl very messy, short and poorly spelled words, he’s barely as literate as a young child. He finds this incredibly embarrassing, so he tends to go through convoluted ways to make sure he never gets shoved into a situation where he needs to write. 

🎒what was my muse’s worst subject in school?

He never went to school, which… is probably why he’s so academically apathetic about things. 

🙅‍♂️what does my muse feel insecure about?

EVERYTHING, practically. He’s insecure about his position in his relationship with Aymeric (”am I too troublesome? too high-maintenance? I can never do most of the things he wants me to do, my body is scarred and ugly, am I just chaining him down, etc, etc”), he’s insecure at his ability to live up to the expectations of Warrior of Light (”what if I fail? what if someone else I love dies? what if, what if, what if…”) and he’s insecure at just… being able to live. 

Like, all he’s wanted is to achieve happiness, feel secure and safe and be strong. But with everything happening in ffxiv, he sometimes feels he’s constantly backing off from that goal…

👾what was my muse’s childhood bogeyman?

MASTER. FUCKING. MUSA.

Even nearing his forties, with a good two and a half decades put between him and his experiences with the man, even mentioning or remembering him makes him break out into a nervous sweat. It’s why he hates Kugane, and Doma to a smaller degree. Everything there reminds him of Master Musa, and it makes him sick to his stomach and constantly teetering on the edge of terror and anxiety. 

He keeps thinking, even now, he’ll pop out from the shadows and be there. Even though Aza is old enough and strong enough to snap him over his knee, and even killed him himself before, the fear is still there. He still features in a lot of Aza’s nightmares, even now…

[bookmarathon]

1. turtles all the way down

“I need to be liked up close.”

rating: 7/10 turtles

quick summary: Aza is a teenager with OCD. I guess this story is sort of kind of about how she falls in love with a rich guy whose dad is missing for a cash reward, but it’s really more about Aza’s struggle with mental illness and how she let her spiraling thoughts impact the way she interacts not only with potential boyfriends, but also with friends, family, and of course, herself. 

highs: 

getting the reader to understand how awful mental illness is 

The passages where Aza worries about bacteria really made me feel kind of trapped and just generally disgusted. The recurring image of that wound on her finger made me squeamish- I had to take a short breather after a few descriptions of her picking it open because I was feeling pretty disturbed. I think the highlight of the entire novel was that giant passage where (spoiler!) Aza was in the hospital fighting with herself about chugging some hand sanitizer. Absolutely terrifying and sad and written so that I felt like I couldn’t breathe until it was over.  I know how it feels when you’re the one hurting yourself- it’s helplessness and anger and fear all at once, and John did a good job of conveying that mix of emotion. 

things don’t play out the way you expect them to

Is it a trademark of John’s now? To subvert the reader’s expectations of what will happen to the main character? If it is, I don’t mind it. Obviously, I wanted Aza to be happy, and when reading Turtles All the Way Down, I wanted her to be happy with her main love interest, Miles. But I think it’s really great to see that there’s good in Aza and Miles’s relationship, that they are able to make each other happy, but that they can’t/won’t change for each other and so it (spoiler!) ultimately doesn’t work out. I also think it’s good that throughout the novel, we never really see much improvement with Aza’s OCD. It’s John Green, so I knew that it wouldn’t go away or anything ridiculous like that. I didn’t expect her to still be dealing with intense spirals up until the end though, but John gave us a glimpse at a better future for Aza. I really like that, because it gives us hope, but a reminder that mental illness doesn’t just disappear and it’s something that has to be dealt with over a time period much longer than that novel. 

lows:

the sequence of events is a bit unrealistic

I know people are kind of half and half on John Green on Tumblr. So far the good parts have won out, but I definitely do think that some parts of his novels can seem a little contrived, and this book was no exception. I rolled my eyes several times in the first few chapters of exposition. Like, I like Miles, but he has a rich father who runs away with a cash reward for his capture, a lawyer with 0 humanity, a tuatara that will get all of his dad’s property, a motion capture camera in the woods he happened to install with his brother when he was a kid when he happened to know Aza (because they both lost parents and went to the same camp) and he happened to keep that camera running in the same place for all those years for Aza to remember so she can meet him so the plot can make sense. Maybe Miles’s blog is believable, maybe Noah giving Aza his dad’s notes is believable, but for Micah’s art to be displayed in a gallery that just happens to be right by the “jogger’s mouth”... I think John Green is good at really fleshing out characters- I feel like I know them, and they’re great and unique and have interesting dynamics with each other. It’s just that sometimes it’s a little awkward when they interact in situations that just seem...fake. I get that coincidences happen in real life, but I just can’t fully connect to novels that seem to rely on coincidence to drive the plot. 

daisy, the fanfic queen / bff 

Aaah, I feel like I’ll get hate for this. I don’t know, I’ve just yet to find a book that writes about somebody who’s really involved with the internet (a fanfic writer, a tumblr blogger, a vlogger, etc.) in a way that doesn’t make me cringe. I really liked the storyline with Daisy being blunt and fighting with Aza, because I think it’s important to show how it can be frustrating to be close with those with mental illnesses. But in general, this hip youthful internet persona that authors keep trying to pin down just doesn’t really do it for me, soz. Feels a little try-hard.

tl;dr: I liked the book’s overall messages about mental illness & especially some of the descriptive passages. I also found Aza really likable, but Looking for Alaska is still my favorite John Green book by far. 

hey! if you’re new here, welcome to my book marathon! this is my summer 2018 challenge to always be reading a book throughout these next 3 months, whether it’s something new or something old. to keep a record of this, i thought i’d write a quick review of everything i read. 

[kivaember]

29. — preparation

(This is… minor spoilers, sort of, for Sharpen Your Claws. Slightly AU since it’s about a year after the fic, which was after 4.2 but before 4.3, and ofc that takes us beyond current patch time so… ugh fuck it let’s say minor AU and there was a suuuuuuuper long break in between 4.2 and 4.3! Also this is fanfic so it takes place wherever i want it too.

In short: enjoy disgustingly domestic ‘Aza and Aymeric raise a child together’ nonsense)

“I think she should have a knife.”

“She is not bringing a knife to school, Aza.”

“A small knife,” Da amended grudgingly, and Sameh hida smile by ducking her head as she pretended to tie her shoelaces. Da and Daddywere getting ready to walk her to her first day of school, bundled up againstthe snow outside, and they’d been having this argument since she’d been brushingher teeth. Da seemed to think she might have to knife-fight her way in betweenclasses and fend of creeps on the way to lunch, and Daddy thought he was beingsilly.

“No knife,” Daddy said.

“Tiny knife?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Sameh couldn’t stop the snort of laughter bubblingup, helping to dispel some of the tiny nervousness that had been sitting heavyin her belly since last night.

“What’re you giggling at, gremlin?” Da asked her,and when she looked up he was smirking at her. He was being ridiculous onpurpose, she realised, and she shyly smiled up at him as she fidgeted with hershoelaces. She had to wear a pretty stupid outfit – nothing like the comfy,fluffy tunics Uncle Felyx and Auntie Bluebird buried her under – but Daddy hadinsisted that it was a uniform and everyone else would be wearing the samestupid thing, so she wouldn’t be the odd one out.

Only, she’d be the only Miqo’te. Everyone else would be Elezens. It made her nervous.

“You’re being silly,” she said, flicking her tail, “Idon’t need a knife, Da.”

“See,” Daddy said a bit smugly.

“I need a sword,” she finished, and chanced a lookat Daddy. He let out a sigh of fond exasperation as Aza laughed.

“Well,” Daddy said wryly, “I know a few childrenwho would take a sword to school. Evidence of lordship and all.”

“Right, and Sameh is a little lord too,technically,” Da quipped, leaning down to ruffle her hair so hard her headwobbled. She whined and ducked to escape, “Heir to House Borel and whatnot.Anyone give you grief over that you can bop them over the head with your Ma’ssword.”

“Please don’t,” Daddy said, “Fighting is grounds forexpulsion.”

“I’ll bopthem over the head,” Da said instead.

“You’ll be arrested for that, Aza.”

“Well, it’s not like they’ll bop themselves, Aym,” Dahuffed, then perked up, “Oh, how about Rations-”

Daddy interrupted Da by dragging him into aheadlock, and Sameh heaved a sigh and rolled her eyes when they started doing areally childish playfight. That was eithergoing to end in gross kissing or Daddy getting bitten followed by gross kissing,so Sameh ignored them and finished tying her shoelaces.  

—

It ended with gross kissing because of course. They were so disgustingly inlove sometimes.

Sameh loved it. The kissing was still gross though.

—

Ten minutes later they were walking to school,Sameh in between Da and Daddy and feeling more and more nervous with each step.It was snowing a little, and the ground was crunchy from where the grit was putdown that early morning. The school she was going to was also part of the bigspiky looking church that sat at the very top of Ishgard, and she was told thatit was a school most ‘stuck up spoiled high-class brats’ went to, according toDa. Daddy said the same thing, but in a more polite way.

Because of who Daddy and Da were, she was allowedto attend that school – was actively encouraged, in fact, since everyone sawWarrior of Light and Lord Commander of Ishgard as her parents and expected bigthings from her too. She had to cram so much stuff about Halone that was testedin its entrance exam because it was mandatory to have some understanding of Herdue to some dumb reason Sameh didn’t care about. She knew there were lots of noblesunhappy with her going, because of more dumb reasons she didn’t care about, andDaddy told her to expect to be tested harder than anyone else.

She pointed out that this was unfair, and Daddysaid that it was, that he understood because he experienced the same thing when he’d been adopted by the House Borelfamily. Everyone wanted you to fail, to prove their stupid self-superiorityright – in her case, that Miqo’te didn’t belong in the upper-class education systembecause they were stupid or too uncultured – so you had to work harder just togain the same amount of recognition for those who barely worked at all. Daddyhad told her she didn’t have to go because of that, that he could see if shecould be home-schooled by some of Da’s Scion friends instead, but…

Well. She didn’t want to be chased off by some dumbspoiled brats. Sameh was tough as nails, Da said so, and compared to the otherthings she saw and endured, putting in hard work to put some dummies in theirplace wasn’t all that bad. She knew she could do it. In fact, she could be the best so no one could say bad things aboutMiqo’te ever again in Ishgard, and that otherMiqo’te could do this super amazing schooling without having to have parentswho literally saved entire City States strongarm the headmaster.

(Sameh knew that her application had been rejectedat first, that Daddy had to tell Da to calm down and that he would deal with it.The next day she got her acceptance letter and when she went to the interviewwith the headmaster afterwards where he congratulated her on ‘winning’ herplace, Daddy accompanied her and had terrified the headmaster in squeaky silencejust by smiling pleasantly at him.

People always said Da was the scary one, but Daddycould be really scary when he wantedto be. Even Da listened to Daddy when he got mad)

“What’re you thinking about, gremlin?” Da asked herwhen she’d been quiet too long, “You still traumatised from us kissing?”

“Yes,” she said, “I see it in my nightmares.”

Daddy made a suspicious coughing noise that soundeda lot like laughter.

“Who taught you to be so cheeky?” Da grumped, buthe was smiling so she knew he wasn’t that annoyed, “I bet it was you, Aym, yousnarky git.”

“Me?” Daddy sounded so offended it was hilarious, “Iam the model of good behaviour, thank you very much. She must have learnt itoff you.”

“Hey, I’m the Warriorof Light,” Da drawled, “I can neverbe cheeky. It’s not in the job description.”

Sameh listened to her parents playfully banter witheach other, pleased with herself, and idly kicked a clump of slushy snow as shepassed it. Yeah, she thought, squeezing her parents hands tight, she’d be fine.

—

Da revisited the Knife Issue once they were in theschool’s front courtyard.

“Look,” Da was saying, holding Sameh tight aroundthe shoulders with one arm, and holding a small pocket knife with the other, “I’mjust saying, if a Garlean assassin comes dropping out of the ceiling, thisknife could mean life of death.”

“If a Garlean assassin comes dropping out of the ceiling,one tiny pocket knife won’t decide anything,” Daddy said a bit flatly, “Aza,stop giving our child knives. She doesn’t want one.”

Sameh, who had been eyeing a few of the otherchildren milling in front of the school’s courtyard and noting how many of themlooked twice her size and weight, said, “I think I want one now.”

“You were saying? See, Sameh knows what’s up.”

Daddy confiscated the knife.

“Aw,” Da said.

“Sameh,” Daddy said, the knife vanishing somewhereinto his coat. He knelt in front of her, since he was ridiculously tall, andsmiled at her, “You have your linkpearl, right?”

“Yup.”

“Any difficulties, you can call one of us at anytime. Don’t worry about interrupting us, we’ll answer.”

“Yeah,” Da said, giving her a squeeze about theshoulder in a half-hug before reluctantly letting go, “If anyone gives youshit, beat them up.”

“Aza.”

“Tell the teacher,” Da amended with a wink.

“I will,” Sameh said, making a note to beat uppotential bullies where there’d be no witnesses.

Daddy ruffled her hair, a lot gentler than Da, andstood up, “Behave,” he told her, “And good luck.”

Sameh nodded, her stomach fluttering like she’deaten a whole cage of butterflies, and tried to keep her face very straightwhen Da tried to slip a pocket knife into her coat pocket without Daddynoticing. Daddy did notice. He confiscated that knife too.

“Aw,” Da said again.

Daddy curled his fingers into the collar of Da’scoat and hoisted him to his feet, keeping him in place like he was amisbehaving puppy, “Do you want us to walk you inside?”

Sameh hesitated but shook her head. She wasnervous, but she was prepared. Daddy had made sure she was educated to the samelevel in between work, and Da expanded her knowledge even further on morepractical things. She wasn’t the frightened little girl Da dragged out of theIshgardian wilderness anymore. She could face down a school filled with snottynoblemen who’d look down at her for something as simple as her birth and race.She’ll prove them all wrong, easy.

“I’ll be fine,” she said brightly, “I’ll make youproud, Da and Daddy.”

“You already have,” Daddy said with a smile.

“Yeah,” Da added, “Show them who’s the best, gremlin.”

Sameh saluted, delighted when her parents laughed,and turned on her heel and boldly strode forwards, her stomach twisting with nerves,but her heart strong with courage and determination.

[kivaember]

Tumblr Prompt: Memory with a relative

(I accidentally answered private to @lumei-xiv because i’m a fucking moron so pls imagine this as a reply to an ask with the prompt: Memory with a relative

CW: mental health’s discussed quite a bit in this) 

Sometimes, Bluebird felt so out of her depth with the hot mess that was her brother.

It was three in the morning and they were both sitting in the far corner of the Forgotten Knight. Only the hardcore alcoholics and depressed assholes were still mooching about here, keeping quietly to their own tables. It smelled like shitty ale and smoke and Bluebird hated it. She just hated Ishgard in general, with how it was grinding Aza’s spirit into dust and fucking them over with new dramatic shit at each turn. Aza had been getting better when they came to Eorzea, and now…

Her brother always had a drinking problem, but it was manageable. They just made sure to have one of them soberish with him at all times, and they weren’t afraid to wrestle him away from the bottle and bundle him into bed to sleep it off. This time Aza just… well, he’d been drinking, but Bluebird had no idea how much. She just found him like this, sitting at the table holding a half full tankard of ale and just staring at nothing. He hadn’t said a word when she sat down next to him, and he still hadn’t said a word or even moved after her staring at him for the past hour.

She recognised this behaviour, though she hadn’t seen it in a good, long while. When Aza was upset enough, he just… shut off. He blocked everything out and disappeared inside his fucked-up brain, thinking up fucked up things, and coming to fucked up conclusions that were so wildly wrong and damaging that Bluebird just wanted to beat him around the head until she smacked the illogical crazy out of him.

Even after all these years, seeing him at his worst, at his best, she just didn’t understand him. She couldn’t predict his moods or thoughts. One day he’d be fine, then something would just set him off and he’d brood or get quiet or weird and snappish, and it drove her nuts. It wasn’t his fault, though, she knew that. He tried his best, he had coping mechanisms, and they worked most of the time, but other times he had unhealthy coping mechanisms, and just tried to destroy himself and it was… exhausting to try and keep up.

Bluebird had no idea how he was keeping up with it.

It was a little after three when Aza stirred out of his blank staring, and Bluebird smiled tightly when his unfocused gaze slid over to her. “Oh,” he rasped, “Hey.”

“Hey,” Bluebird said breezily, acting like nothing was wrong. This was normally the best way to go, she found, even if she had to smile with gritted teeth and clenched hands, “Rough day?”

Aza made some vague, incoherent noise in the back of his throat, “Yeah.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

Aza looked back at his tankard and said nothing.

Bluebird took in a slow, deep breath, “Okay.”

She refused to sit here in silence again, though. Telegraphing her movements, she scooted her chair towards him, letting the legs scrape noisily over the floor. A few of the loser drunkards gave her irritated looks, but like she gave a fuck what they thought. Aza was looking at her irritably too, which she liked, because it was better than that creepy, blank staring. Irritated Aza was an aware Aza.

“Could you be any noisier?” he muttered.

“Yes,” Bluebird said, settling her chair next to his with a triumphant clatter. She bared her teeth in a wide smile at Aza’s wince, his ears flicking back, “Do you want me to do it louder? I can go back and do it again.”

“Don’t,” Aza groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. He looked drained, “What time’s it?”

“Three or four in the morning, thereabouts,” Bluebird rested an elbow on the table, her cheek pressing against an upturned palm as she observed her brother with heavy-lidded eyes, “You were doing that creepy staring again.”

“It’s not creepy,” Aza said, abruptly pushing his tankard away. Bluebird quickly claimed it for herself, before he changed his mind and decided to chug the whole thing. He looked… alarmingly sober, “And I was… thinking. Deeply.”

“Hmmm…” Bluebird dragged the sceptical hum out, “About?”

“Nothing.”

“You were thinking deeply about… nothing,” Bluebird drawled, “Geeze, Aza, are you saying you’ve got just empty air in between those hairy ears of yours?”

Aza grimaced, and Bluebird smiled a little more sincerely at the childish expression. He hated walking into traps like those.

“C’mon, tell me,” she ordered.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Aza said snippily.

Bluebird poked him in the ribs, carefully gauging his mood. Normally it was difficult to tell if he was in a ‘I will break your hand if you so much as exist in my close proximity’ mood or ‘ugh I’m not in the mood but fine I’ll tolerate you because I love you for some inexplicable reason’ mood until one made physical contact and had to rapidly save their fingers from being broken. Luckily Aza just glowered tiredly at her. Tolerable mood, then.

“Tell me,” she poked him again, grinning when Aza’s upper lip curled enough to bare very sharp fangs at her. It was like baiting an ill-tempered dog, she loved it. But, there was a time and place for Aza-baiting, and now wasn’t it, sadly, “Or I’ll start guessing.”

Aza watched her warily but said nothing.

“Fine,” Bluebird sat back in her seat, tapping her bottom lip. What had happened recently? Too many things, honestly. There was Estinien running for the hills without so much as saying goodbye. Thancred was back, edgier and broodier than ever, and so was Y’shtola, except now blind. Minfillia was one hundred per cent dead (in Bluebird’s expert opinion when someone says ‘she no longer has a physical body as she now serves as the Mothercrystal’s voice’, it’s pretty much the same as ‘she’s pretty fucking dead, bro’). Haurchefant had also joined the Dead Peoples Club, which was a shame because she never got a chance to rematch that arm-wrestling contest with him and win back her title as Having The Buffest Arms In Ishgard. The Warriors of Darkness were now a thing, being edgy tryhards and interrupting sexy dinner dates with sexy Lord Commanders…

Hmmm.

“Those Warriors of Darkness sure are cringey, huh?” she tried, “They’re so transparently bad at being, well, bad.”

Aza’s shoulders relaxed a fraction – damn, her blind shot missed, but she was rewarded with her brother’s mouth curving into a very amused smile, “You think so too? I almost gave myself an aneurysm rolling my eyes at them. So edgy.”

“Clearly not natural born villains like us,” Bluebird scoffed, “You’re more menacing after just waking up with serious bed hair.”

“Crisp says I’m a monster before morning coffee.”

“Ugh, a bitey monster,” Bluebird muttered, bearing many scars on her wrists and hands when she, in her stupid youth, thought it was fun to bait a just awakened Aza. She very quickly learned otherwise, “But they, uh, don’t bother you?”

Aza shook his head and started picking at a scratch on the table, “Well, they do, but… compared to Nidhogg imminently burninating the entirety of Ishgard…”

“Point,” Bluebird said slowly, narrowing her eyes – she skirted close to what was bothering him then, she could sense it, “They haven’t really done that much to us, have they? Well, they almost poisoned Alisaie, yeah, and interrupted your dinner date with the Lord Commander-”

There. Aza twitched.

Bluebird grinned broadly, “That’s it, isn’t it? The dinner date.”

“Bluebird,” Aza said in a very strained tone, “Drop it, please.”

“No,” she dug her heels in, scenting blood. When Bluebird saw weakness, she went for it no matter what, “Now, let me think on why you would be sitting here, sulking-”

“I’m not sulking!”

“-after having a dinner date with the hottest bachelor in Ishgard. From what I heard, you two were having a good time… even flirting, according to some…”

“Bluebird,” Aza hissed, starting to go a rather damning shade of pink. Bluebird’s grin eased into a very lazy smirk.

The thing was, while Bluebird didn’t understand Aza, she did know him. While she couldn’t follow the fucked up twists to his mind to see how he came to his stupid conclusions, she could kind of guess things or recognise certain behaviours and tells. This… the last time she saw him like this was when he and Haurchefant got half-drunk and slept together, and Aza had a near meltdown when he realised he liked him. Really liked him.

Aza was fine with casual flings… in a way. He was very particular, and only on certain days when he was in certain moods, but he did have casual sex. But that was it: it was casual. Anything resembling a relationship was treated as some terrifying thing that needed to be handled like it was an unstable bomb. Aza had too many issues to pin it on one specific thing, but long story short he had a veritable cocktail of traumas and issues that meant Aza and romantic relationships were as compatible as oil and water.

Still, Aza got cravings, she supposed. Everyone had a desire to be loved and cherished, even abused, scared children like him.

“He seems decent and he really likes you,” she said, gentling her tone, “I bet he’s the kind to write disgusting love poetry though.”

Aza looked away from her, putting his elbows on the edge of the table and burying his face in his hands.

“I can’t,” he whispered into his palms.

“Why can’t you?” Bluebird asked, then grimaced because she could think of several reasons why, “I mean, aside from the obvious stuff like, he’s the Lord Commander and blah blah blah?”

Aza dropped his hands, puffing out a short breath as he muttered, “Those are pretty big reasons why.”

“Well, yeah…” Bluebird trailed off. Right, the Lord Commander was more firmly in the public eye than Haurchefant ever was. While one could ignore what some bastard son of a noble was doing under his own roof out in the frozen countryside, the Lord Commander was always scrutinised and needed to keep a very impeccable reputation what with his opponents keen to sling mud at him. Taking a Miqo’te to bed would… ruin that, wouldn’t it?

“Just drop it,” Aza said, looking so worn down at the edges that Bluebird didn’t have the heart to needle him further, “I know it won’t go anywhere. So, don’t… please don’t speak to me about it anymore.”

Bluebird hesitated. It kind of rubbed her wrong to let Aza give up before he even tried but, she was also painfully aware that pursing Aymeric would hurt him too, if it went all wrong. Aymeric clearly liked him, you’d have to be fucking blind to miss the looks he gave Aza, the way his voice dropped an octave when he spoke to him – but Aymeric was also so utterly devoted to Ishgard that he was willing to kill his best friend to save it. If Aymeric had to choose a potential romance with the Warrior of Light, and serving Ishgard, Bluebird knew which one he’d choose.

Maybe it was for the best, for Aza to give up on this one?

This was so beyond her abilities to puzzle out, Bluebird thought exhaustedly. It was too early in the morning to try and figure it out. She’ll hassle Crisp with it later…

“Fine, I’ll drop it,” she said, mentally tacking on for now.

After all, while she was out of her depth dealing with Aza’s bullshit, that didn’t mean she shirked from it. As frustrating and confusing he could be, he was still her little brother… one that she genuinely wished to see happily in love with someone so they could help him out too. Bluebird was just one woman here, and she could only satisfy his emotional needs in one way. So, maybe, they could try with Aymeric...? Possibly, if she...

“C’mon,” she said, nudging her brother’s shoulder, “Let’s get you to bed. You can cry over your pitiful love life tomorrow.”

“Tactful as ever,” Aza grumbled, but he looked relieved at her dropping the issue.

How cute. If only he knew what she had planned.