#tia writes

[expectiations]

🦅

"We were...happy...once upon a time. He made me happy."

She sniffled and surreptitiously tried to wipe a stray tear.

"But I guess that's the thing with immortals, they never know how to stay too long."

x

[summerhomeineskew]

I'm not doing nano but

[eemamminy-art]

I love to think of the exarch being gaunt and thin and sickly looking, so consumed by duty and guilt and literally consumed by crystal that he loses passion in eating.

But then G'raha is full and round and healthy and he wants to try every single food he can and enjoy life 🥰

[necromeowncy]

♡♡♡

[ourbastardofsorrows]

i try to tear the clock off the wall at my menial 9-to-5 job so i can work without the painful reminder of how i'm trading my finite time for poverty wages, but pulling at the clock reveals that it's connected to the wall not by electrical wires, but by arteries and veins and connective tissue. i keep yanking as the steady tick-tick turns into something like a panicked heartbeat, even as blood stains my only good work shirt and my hold on the flimsy plastic frame starts to slip. one by one, the wretched veins snap until i'm left with a silent plastic corpse. the only sound in my office is the steady tick-tick of my heart.

i have to meet with my boss to talk about damaging company property tomorrow morning

[simpingforstardew]

this is the stupidest thing i've ever made while procrastinating

[ievaxol]

no one can unring this bell

on good days, the creaking hardly bothers him.

'tis simply part of the daily routine to draw from the well of his aether and breathe life into his limbs again upon waking, to close his eyes through the initial panic of being pinned to the bed by dead weight and then the secondary, slower burning one of that dead weight being attached to him.

it took a couple of years, but he got the hang of it eventually. for all the theatrics of his youth, g'raha has discovered a pragmatic streak that runs deep within him.

he'll trade an arm for a settlement, half a leg for a child with eyes the color of lakeland -- he'll barter, give and take and move the pieces he has with lips pressed together and eyes cast to a future that may well lay hundreds of years ahead.

his own body is merely another resource at his disposal. he sits down with stacks upon stacks of books on anatomy to find a way to have the aether penetrate all the way out to this fingertips, not for himself but because the dexterity is needed in order to fight.

lyna smothers him in salves and ointments and he lets her, if only so she can feel needed. there is no need to tell of an itch that goes deeper than skin, not when she frowns in determination and sets his heart to bursting with affection.

on bad days, it does bother him.

those days he lets the sleeves drop a little lower and he stays in the tower if he can, both relieved and sickened at the familiar hum of aether that cocoons him.

relief at knowing he'll be able to move the way he wants. that he'll be able to fool himself into thinking there is nothing wrong with him so long as he doesn't look upon himself and see the tattered remains of his dress branded into the mockery of flesh provided by the tower.

nausea at the calculations that perpetually run in the back of his mind, reminding him of the fact that his body is no longer his. how many ilms of skin does it cost to save a life? what limbs would he trade for the crystalline mean? does he have the right to grieve himself?

it would probably do him well to remember that the tower isn't sentient as such, yet he can never shake the feeling that it hungers for more. some days it feels as though he has placed himself in the maw of a starving beast that is simply waiting for him to grow a little more before its jaws snap shut.

and time is notoriously not on his side.

on the worst days, the creaking is all he hears.

when he's called out on extended business, or another summoning attempt falls flat, or someone dies, or, well --

it's so loud those days. the scrape of rock against rock, slow and relentless. it is inescapable, too, as his chest heaves with every breath he takes and the crystal moves with it, groaning and cracking like a live thing.

the warmth is siphoned first out of his skin and then out of the very air, leaving his teeth chattering and lyna's face engraved with a silent worry that he's scared will grow permanent, and he wants to weep at how the one supposed to protect her ends up hurting her the most.

every swallow is a struggle, every step a fight. the seams of his transformation cracks and bleeds pain until he's half delirious with it, overcome by the need to claw his way out, out, out of his own body and the prison it makes.

it's basic survival instinct after all, to run away from what's killing you. and here he is. walking toward it, sprinting some days, as if he truly can't wait.

he has a thousand things to do and a hundred places to be, and yet all he is capable of is humming under his breath to try and drown out the never ending sound of his own corpse being puppeteered.

a small prize to pay on the grand scale of things but gods.

gods does he long for silence.

[kicktwine]

A silly! The Exarch plays claw machine

G’raha is expecting the summoning of the Warrior of Light to be… a far more reverent and atmospheric moment than it is. He had researched for years in the Crystal Tower, finally able to piece together an enchantment he knows is capable of summoning one across time, across the barriers between shards. It is a complex and perfectly charted cast upon which rides the hopes and survival of both the Source and the First, and all within it. 

So sue him, when a fully naked unconscious hyur falls out of the spell and practically launches a nutkin (he was unaware it was possible to bring a plus one) directly into his face, he may have yelped a little and dropped his staff onto his foot. 

Never before is he more glad he forbids the people of the Crystarium have unmonitored access to the Tower. When he finishes jumping around holding his paw like a child, he is still left with (the nutkin is gone, and he never finds it again) a very unclothed man on his floor who is not supposed to be here. This is not the Warrior of Light — last he checked, the Warrior was a Miqo’te, like he, with a constant dastardly smile and near-black fur that rusts in the sunlight and ever-so-slightly mismatched blue-green eyes that glow in the twilight. Last he checked, academically, anyways. 

The Hyur groans, shifting imperceptibly. The Crystal Exarch does not panic, though his ears do flatten under his hood. Instead, he very quickly removes a small layer of his cloak and covers the poor man, and prepares to explain what in the name of the Twelve is going on. 

-

G’raha tries again about a year later, ever aware of the rapid time dilation but utterly committed to getting it right this time and, unfortunately, completely spent from the first attempt’s burden on his aether. Thancred, luckily, does not hate him, but he does also have his own business nowadays, and so he is not available when the time to try again comes. Hopefully, he can get word out soon, and the Warrior can have him as a traveling companion. 

Would that the Exarch could fill that role. And, would that he did not need to come up with it. With renewed determination and twice the aether poured into the spell, G’raha attempts to harry the gates of time and pull to his side a legend. 

He misses again. And for his efforts, he gets two of the Warrior of Light’s companions, both, again, without clothes. 

He is. Going to have to figure out how to fix that. Perhaps it has to do with aetherological travel and the acknowledgement of one’s possessions as a part of them? How is he to pull over the whole of the person without any pictures of what they happen to be wearing that day…?

The Miqo’te woman wakes first, and immediately hisses when he speaks up, her fur ridges bristling. This bodes well. 

-

So we don’t need to — he fails again. And at this point it is getting a little frustrating, but at least this time he has a blanket ready.

The Elezen boy, sitting on the floor with the blanket meticulously and with no small amount of self-consciousness positioned so it covers him in a little tent, listens quietly to what G’raha has to say, his tail curled around his knees. 

For a mercy, he listens and considers the Exarch’s tale very carefully. Apparently, isolated as he was from information back in Eorzea, he had no idea the dizzy spells weren’t just from… lack of aether permeating sections of Garlemald. But, at least, the voice of the Call lends credence to his claims. And so he seems to accept it, and introduces himself as Alphinaud Leveilleur, heir of House Leveilleur and Scion of the Seventh Dawn. 

G’raha’s tail puffs a bit under his robes. Such historic titles! And such peaceful parley. He goes to offer his hand, but— um. Alphinaud doesn’t move from the floor to shake it, turtling in the blanket tent. 

Right! Right. The Exarch startles and runs off to get a pair of trousers. 

-

Undeterred, G’raha swears he will try again, and soon, it will not be another year before he finds Ch’ari Tia, he swears it!

…Well. At least the other Elezen girl arrives with her smalls. This does not deter her from cracking her fist against his crystalline ribs, which he’s sure hurts him more than it does her. His ears are ringing from her tirade — not a good time to summon her, she said. The Exarch feels old. 

-

The forest. 

The forest! Of Lakeland! WITH his clothes, thank the gods, but so far out of range! What if he were assaulted by a sin eater while unconscious?! Or harried by some — some, who knows what! A carnivorous plant?!

The Exarch sprints out the gates of the Crystarium, his old man bones protesting at activity he hasn’t done in literal moons. He gains a few looks from the residents as he passes — most amused, at which he can’t decide if he’s amused back or embarrassed — and finally slows to a halt when he realizes Lyna has stopped the Warrior at the gate, and done away with a stray sin eater (!!) like a sensible guard. Bless Lyna. May Lyna have the bounty of the heavens rain upon her. Wonderful grandchild. 

He is out of breath as he approaches, and attempts to gain it back — an effort which he quickly realizes is entirely in vain, as the Warrior of Light finally turns to regard him, suspicious and curious and his eyes flicking to and fro across the Exarch’s form as if he could find some secret solution or an answer hidden within. His clothing is loose and wrinkled — if Alisaie’s scolding was any indication, they must not have had the time to care for it. But, regardless, his fur shines with recent care, and he stands with the height of someone who means to ask questions, not someone out of their depth. One fang pokes through his lips as he examines his abductor. 

The Exarch is great at controlling his face. Fantastic at it. Even so, he smiles a touch without truly meaning to, full of relief and suddenly swamped with strong anticipatory jitters at the journey ahead, promising the Warrior that he will answer his questions back in the Ocular. 

Ch’ari tilts his head like a puppy, eyes boring into the space where G’raha’s remain concealed. He follows, though — tail swaying, steps quiet, gazing at the purple foliage with silent wonder. 

…

Damn his spellcasting making such an exception as this one. 

[remma-demma]

Critically underused part of G’raha Tia’s character that he’s a good singer

[expectiations]

i don't know what happened but i seem to have bungled up your ask, tree. i can't find it in my inbox, drafts, and even the queue 😭 but anyways, here it is @seaweedstarshine

"We. were. happy... once upon a time. He made me happy. But I guess that's the thing with immortals, they never know how to stay too long."

wip game

[summerhomeineskew]

I think I know what needs to happen in this next chapter, but I can't decide on how I want it to happen 🫠

[hippolotamus]

Tagged by @daffi-990 @jamespearce9-1-1 @wikiangela @steadfastsaturnsrings @weewootruck @malewifediaz @disasterbuckdiaz thank you loves 😘

Joining the all over the place crowd with a tiny snippet from the kid date fic (prev snippet here)

“Eddito,” Tía Pepa admonishes when a commercial comes on. “What is going on in that brain of yours? You’re so restless tonight.”

She’s looking at him with a twinkle of fond amusement, so he knows he’s not in trouble for all his squirming.

“Sorry. I had this idea I can’t stop thinking about. I guess I’m just really excited.”

She raises her eyebrows, turning all her attention on him and away from their telenovela that’s come back on. “Oh?”

It all sounded perfectly reasonable in his head, but now that he has to say it out loud he’s not so sure.

“Well, uh, you know how my friend Evan is moving away?” She nods, but doesn’t say anything. “I want to do something special for him before he leaves. So, I, um- I thought- well… I want to take him on a date.”

no pressure tagging @exhuastedpigeon @thekristen999 @loserdiaz @giddyupbuck @spotsandsocks @underwater-ninja-13 @fortheloveofbuddie @callmenewbie @eowon @jesuisici33 @watchyourbuck @monsterrae1 @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @stereopticons @elvensorceress @spagheddiediaz @chaosandwolves @wildlife4life @your-catfish-friend @buddierights @911onabc @hoodie-buck @the-likesofus @spaceprincessem @fionaswhvre @barbiediaz @honestlydarkprincess @pirrusstuff @messyhairdiaz @gayedmundodiaz @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @evaneds @maygrantgf @lemonzestywrites @buckbuckgoose @statueinthestone and anyone else who wants to 💞

[sexynetra]

SIX SENTENCE SUNDAY

Me? Procrastinating writing the part where Dame and Marina meet by throwing Tia under the bus? It’s more likely than you think :) (also this is not six sentences but I just wanted to post the excerpt okay deal with it I promise I can count if I wanted to)

~~~~~~

Tia was a pretty girl, objectively. With her sweet face and modelesque body, Dame could see the appeal. At least, as long as she ignored the god-awful fashion sense. She gently took one of the flimsy purple straps between her fingers, making a conscious effort not to grimace at the cheap material under her fingers. This close, she could feel Tia’s heart racing.

“You look ravishing as well, darling,” Dame murmured, letting go of the strap and watching as it slipped off of Tia’s shoulder. Tia’s face flushed a pretty raspberry.

“Thank you, um. It’s vintage Versace, I think.” She readjusted her sleeve, looking down shyly.

It wasn’t. Dame could tell even from a quick glance. The stitching was all wrong, the material too flimsy, the draping falling in the way only unlined fabric did. It was all wrong, from the color to the material to the cut. They worked in the fashion industry. Tia should know that.

[lovehotelreservation]

Thrust System - Trust System [6/7]

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

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

Rating: NC-17

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

[Previous Chapter]

[Next Chapter]

hello 🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️

thank you 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️

please enjoy 😭😭

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

What a journey it had been.

Not only within the maddened frenzy that led up to your time here at the Lunar Palace, but simply overall.

In the span of your adventure thus far–whether through hard-fought victory seized by your unwavering spirit or punishing failure that left you humbled and perhaps even scarred–you learned to adapt to any situation as necessary with the various abilities and skills you had attained and honed, whether on your own or under the wing of a mentor.

If you were going to keep your loved ones safe, this was absolutely crucial.

If Estinien needed to be healed while the others were busy squaring off with the foul creatures of a dungeon, you were ready to conjure Cure to salve his wounds.

If Thancred or G’raha needed more force to send a magitek monstrosity crumbling down, just a wave of your hand to call upon the power of the Ifrit was all you needed.

And it wasn’t to say that you were ill prepared to ever draw the ire of a vicious beast to mitigate its assault and attention away from Urianger while he gathered his magic to raise up a shield for your party.

You were quite handy with a sword and shield, in fact.

However, with no armor, no clothes, only time would soon tell and witness how you were going to withstand this encroaching and relentless barrage that was meant to target you and you alone.

Naked, weakened from being constantly subjected to the whims of your unorthodox prison, flushed and at a loss for breath–you could only do your best to cover your nude form with your hands while you inspected the faces of your dearest companions.

Merely phantoms drawn forth by the palace’s zealots, your giggling and mischievous phantom copies dissipated into the air the moment they set foot into the throne room after fulfilling their goal. A goal that was currently unbeknownst to you, but one that needed no further explanation.

With each step they took towards you, darkened eyes contrasting with the vibrant pink glow of their bracelets, having the four fully focused on your body as they drank in the sight of your present blushing distress made matters become increasingly clear:

One way or another, you were going to be taking on Thancred, G’raha, Urianger, and Estinien.

Considering you looked to be the most level-headed one out of everyone’s crazed states, you could have called each of them to reason, to snap out of their stupor and break free from the influence of the bracelets.

But how could you when your body was the most affected by the palace’s contraptions?

Your companions still had the strength to stand and step forward.

You were left on the floor, wondering and yearning for who would make the first move and finally relieve the ache that was possessing your body.

Would it be Thancred, with his once roguish Casanova ways stirring from slumber to leave you squirming beneath his teasing and experienced touch as he whispered utter filth into your ear before having you bear the might of his thrusts, now strengthened by his might and experience as a Gunbreaker?

With how poor G’raha was at hiding his feelings for you, it would be little surprise if he were to so much as pounce right at you to demonstrate his long-harbored yearning by flooding your core full with his seed.

As for Urianger, you were well aware that even he–with his impeccable grace and immeasurable patience–could only maintain his near saintly composure for so long before he would beseech to bury his face between your thighs.

And certainly not to be forgotten, Estinien deemed you as his partner for a reason and so it was certain that he would make sure that you remember how the shape of his cock would feel inside of you.

The answer as to who would be first and finally bring you relief was not coming fast enough, and thus, after gathering your thoughts, you finally spoke up at last, your voice soft yet heavy with need,

“Will you all help me?”

They replied all at once.

Armor clanked against the floor while a flurry of clothes soon joined, with hungry lips claiming yours and their hands meeting your body even faster.

The four surrounded you, crowding around where you were currently sitting on the floor of the throne room.

Knights to their majesty, disciples to their god–there was reason for this all to transpire within the center of the throne room of the once dignified and anointed Lunar Palace, which had witnessed decades upon decades of this very ritual across time with the likes of nobles, army commanders, to even more daring members of The Forum looking for thrills outside of scrolls and regulation.

Now, it was you and the men you loved with all your heart.

Your lips were claimed by G’raha’s in the neediest of kisses as his tongue was desperate to plunge into your mouth for a sample of your taste. For Estinien, he already had a handful of your breasts, groping your flesh and pinching at your nipples. 

Urianger was occupied with kissing along your neck while his fingers–ever experienced with flicking through the cards of his tarot deck–were preoccupied with feathering and circling over your clit. This worked in tandem with Thancred, who had damn near slid across the floor in order to plant his face right in-between your thighs, his experienced tongue dragging and stroking along your drooling core.

A bit of relief for the overwhelming ache that was wracking through your body, which–within your crumbling sense of mind–you sought to return the favor by bringing your hands to grasp at and caress G’raha’s and Urianger’s stiff cocks. And with the added attention of Estinien and Thancred amidst your overwhelmed state, between a few kisses, caresses and licks, it was not long until you were arching your back with a cry as you were brought to orgasm.

The first of many for this ritual.

Especially as Thancred did not hesitate to lift himself up off the ground to kneel before you instead, his fingers reaching for the base of his cock while he readied to slide his thick girth right into your core. A delighted hiss escaped him as he was quickly welcomed by hot, velvety tightness.

“Now this was worth sprinting all over this damn dungeon for.”

His arms wrapping tight around you, Thancred drew your body close against him as he quickly began to push into your core at a vigorous pace, stealing a kiss from your lips as he did so. At the same time, he proceeded to lift you up so he could be the one to lay on the ground instead, keeping you right on top of his toned and chiseled form instead.

With the pop of a bottled salve followed by heavy and heady breath, G’raha coated his dick as fully as he could with the thick and viscous solution, his ears perked and tail swirling with anticipation, all while his crimson eyes were trained on your backside, his heart fluttering at the idea of fantasy becoming reality. Of course, while his mind had long since succumbed to the influence of the Lunar Palace, he still was careful with applying the salve’s contents upon the tight ring of your asshole.

“If relief is what you need, then I gladly pledge to be used at your desire.”

He meant to be more thorough, but the helpless mewl for him to start fucking you from your lips had his mind going blank, his hands clutching at your hips, his lips seeking your neck, and his cock plunging right into your ass. By contrast to Thancred, the pace he began to work himself into was slower yet focused more on pushing in as deeply as he could, wanting nothing more than to savor this sensation, this moment of being one with you at long last.

And certainly, not and never to be left out, Urianger and Estinien were already standing close by, delighting in any kiss from your lips or strokes of your palm upon their dicks. While you were much too preoccupied with getting hammered into by your other companions, they were biding their time for their turn.

Because both were going to devastate you thoroughly.

Over and over, plunging in and out in tandem, it wasn’t long until both Thancred and G’raha were pouring their hot sticky cum inside your core and your ass–the former with a roared curse while the latter with a delighted hiss–as you squealed with your own orgasm.

You sagged right on Thancred’s chest, taking comfort for the touch of his hand stroking your side while G’raha kissed along your shoulder blades.

“Surely, your stamina can go a few more rounds, right partner?”

What you felt next was the warmth of G’raha’s body heat dissipating from behind as he withdrew out from you, just before you found yourself being carried and lifted to be sandwiched upright in-between Urianger and Estinien as they stood, with the former purring out,

“And rest assured, for all that we shalt subject thou to, I will dedicate mine spirit to healing your aches and satisfying your indulgences.”

Estinien’s hands were cradling your ass as he lowered you right onto his long, stiff cock, with Urianger sliding his dick into your core soon afterwards, the two in unison as they speared inside of you at a brisk rhythm.

You scrambled for more support, more contact, more touch. Your arms wrapped around Urianger’s neck as you drew him in for a kiss, which he was more than happy to oblige. Were it not for Estinien’s sturdy arms having hooked beneath your thighs both to help keep you up and to keep your legs parted and open for the two to freely pump their cocks in and out of you, you would have hugged around your darling scholar’s waist as well.

Regardless, you remained spoiled by the stark contrast between the two.

Lips ever so used to speaking in flowery elegance danced upon yours for kisses while teeth that once bore the fangs of draconic possession sought to leave bitten claim upon the side of your neck.

Soft and slender fingers that were more familiar with strumming through countless tomes sought to circle around and toy with your nipples whereas hands that were roughened by a life of harvest and battle continued to cup and grope your breasts.

Trapped in-between Urianger and Estinien as you were made to bounce on their cocks, a glance to the side had you witness Thancred and G’raha hungrily awaiting for your attention while both stroked along the length of their stiff dicks.

What had transpired thus far was merely a sampling.

The true feast was yet to come.

It was by this thought that your eyes rolled, your lips cried, your body trembled.

Right after this orgasm was when time began to blur in overwhelming euphoric delirium.

You could recall the sight of G’raha’s hand grasping at the back of yours as you remained on your hands and knees while he was positioned right behind you, a gasped chant of your name matching the hurried tempo of his thrusts as he continued to pump your core full with his seed without restraint.

At some point you found yourself in the middle yet again, kept standing by Thancred pounding away into you near endlessly from behind, his hands gripping your wrists with ease while your body sagged before him in pleasure all while your mouth was fed with the full length of Urianger’s dick as his fingers stroked through your hair as his breathless praises mingled with Thancred’s cheeky ones.

The sensation of Estinien’s lips smothering yours for kisses was practically etched onto your body, especially as he continued to have you bounce up and down his dick while you were seated on his lap, his hands guiding your pace as they fondled and squeezed your ass.

By this point, the lascivious clutch of the palace’s wicked influence had long since waned. What transpired now and onwards was simply the pursuit of pleasure, the fulfillment of instinct, and–most of all–the release of amorous feelings that had long been trapped away, obscured by a myriad of reasons. Your journey thus far brought you here to seek passage to the moon. Yet as you remained in the center between the four who made your adventure, your life that much more complete, you would only continue to see heaven and its stars over and over again.

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

i was originally going to conclude everything on this chapter but i thought it was better to properly wrap things up by adding another piece--esp with how long this chapter had taken to finally be finished and posted ; v ; thank you so much for your patience and i hope to see you all for the conclusion!!!

[zylphiacrowley]

I could use a distraction... [mild nsfw under the cut]

<previous - next>

[haunted-xander]

There was a joke here except I forgot what it was. Make your own ig