exlibris — mare lamentorum

day seventeen novel

Sun, 18 Sep 2022 16:53:33 +0000

#ffxivwrite2022 #ffxiv #prompt #stelmaria #graha #wolgraha #exlibris #fluff

warnings: none

general: fluff-ass fluff in the ex libris au setting

noun

a long printed story about imaginary characters and events

adjective

new and original, not like anything seen before

Her numb hands shake, the leaden serpent in her gut shifting and twisting over on itself.

Stelmaria knits and unknits her fingers, alternating between staring out the window and watching the stub-tailed tabby Tisiphone arch luxuriously in a beam of bright sunlight.

If only she was a cat too, and not a miqo’te woman, then there would be no need for anxiety about someone else’s opinion.

G’raha turns the last page of the manuscript, setting it aside to rub a hand absently over Tizzy’s sun-warmed belly.

“Well?”

“Well,” he echoes, thoughtful.

The pause drags on long enough to take up not only a substantial physical presence but fully move in and owe one-third of this month’s rent.

“G’raha please don’t leave me hanging…” Thankfully only words come out when she speaks and not what she was expecting.

“To be honest, it’s great! Like, really good.” He smiles as the smoky seal-like shape of Megara jumps into his lap, mewling for attention, but it fades when he spots her white-knuckled grip and pale face. “Why so jittery? You’ve published novels before this.”

“Yes but never under my real name, and certainly not so… “

“Personal?”

“Yes.” She chews her lips. “You have no criticisms at all?”

He pets Meg for a moment before shifting on the couch. It’s enough to send her leaping off his legs and bustling down the hall, affronted. “The only thing that bothered me was how easily the heroine fell for the hero.”

Stelmaria looks like she might cry. “What?”

“He’s an oblivious goober and a bit of nerd,” he explains, ruby eyes sparkling. “Certainly not at all a character I identify with. In my opinion, she deserved better.” He joins her on the small loveseat; it’s a tight fit, but that’s the point.

Comprehension dawns, all the tension leaving her in one big exhale. She traps him between her thighs, settling herself in his lap in much the same way Meg had moments ago and coyly toys with the buttons on his shirt, grin spreading.

He spreads gentle fingers beneath the hem of her shirt, greedy for soft skin under his palms, squeezing her curves and teasing the lacy edge of her bra.

“He’s such a sweetheart though—smart, funny, and sexy. It just took a while for him to trust her. That’s believable, right?”

“I suppose so… He did get better, in his defense, but he’s still a fucking idiot,” he chuckles, tilting his face up to kiss her.

She obliges. “An idiot?”

“How could he look at her and not at least try to express himself? He couldn’t just say ‘Hey. You want to get dinner sometime? We could kill a bunch of monsters beforehand, eat, then come back to my place to fu—’”

Laughter cuts him off. “—What are you saying? He did ask her to dinner,” she wheezes.

“Anyway, he should have admitted he was into her from the beginning. Way easier.”

“Not as much fun though.”

“Hmmm. Not as true either, I guess. You did say it’s based on a true story.”

“It is,” she hums, nosing at a russet ear.

“I’d hate to meet this emotionally constipated dude with a sexy librarian fetish in real life, knowing he somehow met an actual sexy librarian who was super into him, and still managed to fuck it up royal,” he murmurs, sucking small red marks on every ilm of pale skin within reach.

“He must be dying of shame, wherever he is. Do you think he’d ever be confident enough to—” She finishes her sentence by whispering the absolute most depraved filth in his ear. Her words and the lilting tease in her voice sets him ablaze, just as she knew it would.

He grins wolfishly before picking her up and carrying her off, scattering snoozing house cats and almost tripping on the wrinkled edge of a rug.

day fourteen attrition

Wed, 14 Sep 2022 20:57:57 +0000

#ffxivwrite2022 #ffxiv #prompt #exlibris #au #graha #zenos #estinien #alphinaud #alisaie #yshtola #shitpost

warnings: none, unless you have issues with shitposting

general: the ex libris gang plays in-universe dnd

noun

the act of rubbing together, also the act of wearing or grinding down by friction

the act of weakening or exhausting by constant harassment, abuse, or attack

a reduction in numbers usually as a result of resignation, retirement, or death

The twins are fighting again.

Behind his game screen Urianger rests his face in his hands with a deep groan.

Estinien plays with his drake warden minifig, ignoring the combat in progress and any other figures, tokens, and set pieces placed on the dungeon map.

Y’shtola sighs heavily and moves to the whiteboard, wet erase marker at the ready.

G’raha amuses himself by tossing peanuts into the air and catching them in his mouth.

Zenos watches G’raha catch the snacks the way a starving hawk watches a three-legged mouse scuttle through underbrush.

“You said you were gonna play a cleric this time,” complains Alphinaud, for what feels like the fiftieth time.

Y’shtola makes a mark on the board under the heading ‘CLERIC’. It is indeed the fiftieth mark.

“I am a cleric though?” Alisaie is the picture of nonchalance, hooking her foot in the legs of G’raha’s chair to yank him out from under the falling legume. It plonks him square in the forehead and changes trajectory to cross the table, where Zenos catches it in his mouth, never breaking eye contact with G’raha.

“You don’t play cleric because you never prepare healing spells. You’re playing a rogue with a divine clone so you can steal twice as much stuff.”

“Yea but I could prepare healing spells and that’s what counts.”

Y’shtola makes mark number forty-two under the heading ‘HEALING SPELLS’.

Estinien looks up from his figurines. “Was that really the plan the whole time?”

“Yup,” replies Alisaie, without a trace of shame.

Zenos laughs. “Nice.”

Urianger makes use of the break to catch up on his notes. The encounter wasn’t going in the party’s favor at all. Brows drawn tightly together he opens his battered copy of The Dungeon Master’s Guide to Crystals & Crossroads and scans the pages for some new insight.

“Can we maybe just play? Alphinaud’s bard can heal…?” asks G’raha.

Alphinaud rounds on him with uncharacteristic venom, “I don’t see you preparing any healing spells either. You should be helping me. For example, lay on hands? Or is that still ‘emergencies only’?”

G’raha tosses a nut to Alisaie, who leaps from her chair and catches it like a performing seal. “Yep, sorry, emergencies only.”

“Wha—?!“

Y’shtola, looking amused, creates a new heading ‘LAY ON HANDS’ and adds one tally mark beneath.

The red-haired miqo’te points to Zenos, “Blood Hunters can’t do anything about poisons or disease.”

Zenos responds with the ‘I’m watching you, buddy’ motion, eyes wild and threatening. Dedication to the RP was Zenos’ strong suit, the reason he played the game. He never breaks character and this blood hunter has a feud with G’raha’s paladin.

Next, G’raha gestures at Estinien, “Same with Rangers.”

He simply nods, tucking a long fall of silver hair behind one pointed ear. Estinien’s ranger, like himself, was prone to brooding silence, preferring the company of his drake companion named Orn Khai. Apparently he’d named it from some legend or other, nobody could verify the tale but it probably existed. Estinien has a dragon fixation, to put it mildly, so if anyone knew all the tiniest bits of pointless dragon lore it would be him.

Finally, G’raha flicks an ear toward Y’shtola at the whiteboard, “Surely I don’t have to remind you that of all the PC’s a warlock is the absolute—“

She does her best evil laugh, the one her PC does before the whole party is about to have a bad time. One session in particular springs to mind, wherein the warlock sold her own soul to two different buyers one after another with no discernible consequences, then managed to raffle off the bard’s soul to the highest bidder without his knowledge or permission.

“Young Alphinaud, pray locate thine seat,” comes a sonorous voice from behind the screen, “lest thee forfeit thine action this round.”

Defeated, Alphinaud sinks into his chair, shoulders hunched. “I cast healing word at second-level on Zero viator Dementious then put bardic inspiration on Meteor for my bonus action,” he monotones.

“Sweet!” chirps G’raha, adding a charge of inspiration to his character sheet.

“Just so! Rolleth a duet of yon four-faced die, and forget not to make an addition of four to thine total.”

Zenos nods in appreciation as he waits for the roll’s outcome.

Y’shtola makes one final mark under the heading ‘CRUSHING DEFEAT,’ rounding out the tallies at an even one hundred, before reclaiming her seat with a smirk.