#* drabbles

[capseycartwright]

i just don’t think i wrote enough cheesy christmas themed fic this christmas season

[baajisms]

“Jyscal, please! You can’t do this.”

The words rang inside of her mind as she replayed their last conversation over and over again. She had never begged so hard in all her life and chances were, she never would again. There had been countless arguments in the past few years and they’d ramped up in number in the past few months. There had always been reason enough not to do, even with the rising pressure from the Guado. 

“I don’t care if you exile me, but you can’t exile Seymour too. He’s just a child. He needs to be here.”

There had been tears in her eyes then, just as there were now. She was barely holding it together. The only thing that was keeping her grounded was the tiny hand that was enclosed in her own. She had to keep together, to keep it strong, for if she broke down, how was she going to cope with living in this place? Her lips might tremble and her breath felt like it hitched on every other breath, but she would keep it together. She had to. For Seymour.

“It’s been decided. It’s for your own good.”

His words were cold. Detached. Anna could tell he’d pulled back from them both. Even with his back turned to them, Anna could tell he’d detached himself from this whole situation. Whether he still felt any love for them now, she couldn’t be sure. Part of her thought that perhaps this was for their own good. The Guado had become...not hostile, but much more than unwelcoming towards both her and Seymour. They had always been a bit suspicious ever since the pair got married, even more so when Seymour was born. But now, it was different. Anna couldn’t believe that they would ever attack the child, but there was always a ‘what if’ scenario in her head.

But that didn’t mean they should leave.

“Tromell’s wife has volunteered to take you to Baaj. Your things have already been sorted.”

The way he spoke suggested that maybe she hadn’t volunteered and had to have been told. Anna had straightened up, her hands retracting from the desk and clasping at her navel, realising that there was no changing his mind this time. This was it. They were going. They were being exiled. A cold finger of dread & panic spread from her stomach, through her heart and into her brain. Part of her still wanted to protest. To grab him and get him to change his mind like all the other times. Her hands dropped to her sides as she tried to form an argument. To form anything, any words to convince him to stop this.

Nothing came out. She just stared at him wide eyed until a tear finally dropped from her eye. There was a cold silence between them as the shock swept over her body. No more tears fell from her eyes and the wet path on her cheek dried soon enough. Neither of them had moved for what felt like minutes. 

“Mother?”

The young voice & the tug at her sleeve pulled her back to the present. That had been the last ocnversation the two of them had shared and Jyscal couldn’t even bear to look at her when he’d broken the news. Tromell’s wife had escorted them to the boat under the cover of darkness, when nobody else could see them leave. There was a dark cloak wrapped around their shoulders.

“Mother, you’re squeezing too tight.”

Blinking a couple of times, she realised she had been squeezing too tight. Taking a deep, shaky breath to try and steady herself, she loosened her grip on Seymour’s hand and gave him a shaky smile. It didn’t reach her eyes.

“I’m sorry, my dear, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

She nearly burst into tears at the sight of him. How cruel to rip a boy from his home like this. The only place he’d ever known and who knows if either of them would ever see it again. Anna knew he’d noticed the way he’d been treated. The boy wasn’t stupid or naive enough to miss the signs. He’d questioned her about it and Anna had always managed to skirt around the bulk of the issue. She found excuses, she told half-truths, anything not to explain to the boy that the world didn’t quite accept him. Didn’t like him because he was different to the norm and that wasn’t okay. She didn’t want to cause him that sort of pain. 

“Mother, where are we going? Why are we leaving at night? Is father not coming with us?”

But now was different. Perhaps she would finally have to explain to him what was going on. About how not even the house they lived in seemed to want them. That it had been his own father that had sent them away and that he wouldn’t be coming with them. That he better wave goodbye to the house & the bed & the life he knew because he wasn’t the same as everybody else. He was half Guado, half man and nobody would want him. And yes it broke her heart. Yes it pained to think about explaining that to him when they settled.

But it also made her angry. Angry that the Guado couldn’t see what a lovely little boy Seymour was. How smart and cheerful and innocent. How his eyes lit up when he discovered something new or figured out he could do something for the first time. How he stuck his tongue out sometimes when he concentrated. How shy he was about meeting new people, but how polite he always was regardless of if the sideways glances and the whispering. How he buried his face in her skirts when he came up to hug her when he was little. When he first started laughing as a baby, it had been the sweetest sound in all of Spira and nothing could’ve convinced her otherwise. How his hair sometimes poked her in the eye when he sat on her lap, but she didn’t mind. They had never been able to see that. And it was a shame.

“I’ll tell you when we get to Baaj.”

[askleta-blog]

A scene with Newt?

“Let me help you,” Leta said, laughing. She knelt, holding her hands out, cupped.

A breeze ruffled Newt’s hair as he looked down at her, bemused. “I’m sure if you just give me another moment,” he started.

“It’s not about making friends with the horse,” Leta huffed. “It takes everyone a little time to figure out how to mount from the ground.” Newt put his foot in her hand, looking dubious, but Leta managed to boost him onto the horse’s wide, dapple-grey back. Newt settled with his legs astride, brushing careful fingers over the ridge of one of the horse’s wings.

“I’ll bet flying is different on these,” he said, glancing down at Leta.

“Oh. So much better than broom travel.” Leta grinned. She adjusted the way his foot lay in the stirrup, then stepped back. The horse flicked a bored ear at them. “Brooms don’t respond the way horses do. Go on. He’s used to carrying beginners.”

Leta stood well back as Newt nudged the horse’s sides. The great wings, dark as stormclouds, began to beat as the horse started off across the field. Air caught under his wings, lifting him into the air, and Leta felt a little vicarious thrill go through her at Newt’s whoop of joy.

This was the piece of her she wanted Newt to see, she thought. The stables and pastures were the home she truly missed - the whuff of horse-breath on her palm, shuddering wickers, and the warm smell of hay and manure. As she shaded her eyes and watched Newt, she almost thought he might fit here.

[baajisms]

I need a Jyscal/Anima prompt. Please.

It felt like everything in her body was shaking. Her hands, her knees, her stomach. Even her heart was beating so fast it felt as if it was going to break out of her chest and go flying off into the distance. It felt like she was going to break into tiny pieces at the slightest touch. It wasn’t happiness she felt that was causing this, no, anxiety, worry and shock had sent her into the frenzy. No matter what she did, she could not calm down. She had been jittery since Jyscal had broken the news to her.

How had it come to this? It had seemed like such a pleasant idea when they had gotten married. The union of Guado and Human had meant to unify Spira that little bit more against Sin. It was supposed to bring happiness and just a degree of hope in an otherwise dark and cynical world. But now all that felt like it had crumbled. Like she had touched a perfect cast of something made of dust that had now crumbled into nothing. A nervous hand ran through her hair, pushing the tendrils back for a few seconds before they swung back down in front of her face again. Her elbow now resting on the dresser in front of her, one hand on the side of her face as she stared back into the worried reflection of her mirror.

She had tried to keep her calm in front of Seymour when she had explained to it. But she knew that every movement she had made was unnatural. She knew he knew something wasn’t up with her. He knew this wasn’t a joke. She had insisted that she be the one to tell him and not his father. At first she had been angry, she had protested. She had tried to defend her son at the very least. At least let him stay, just send her away. Back to Macalania. Back to Bevelle. There was no need to send him too. He was just a child, what damage could he do? He, at least, looked like a Guado. But no. No matter how much she pushed and prodded and argued and justified, her stubborn husband hadn’t moved on his decision.

And then she had just deflated.

Her feelings were mixed. What had happened to man that she’d fallen in love with? The kind, sweet man, who had brought her flowers that only seemed to grow in Guadosalam? The man who whispered sweet, confidence inducing words into her ears throughout the years. She knew he was still there somewhere, but he’d just gotten masked by the Maester that now protruded. A knock on the door came and then the door creaked open and Anima nearly jumped out of her own skin. The arm dropped from her face onto the flat surface as she turned around, expecting one of the maids or Tromell to come through the door.

But she wasn’t expecting Jyscal to peak round instead.

“My dear..” Her eyes dropped to the floor and she turned back round the mirror, bringing her other arm to rest on cool surface. Her eyes didn’t life from the wooden top either. “I know you’re not happy about this, but it’s for the greater good.” Her lips pressed together. There was still a tiny flame within her chest that wanted to argue back. To argue that they had thought their marriage was for the greater good, but now she was being cast out like a soiled rag. Instead her eyes started watering. “Anima…” She could tell by the tone of his voice that he wanted her to turn around. But she couldn’t one look at him in her current state and she might just break. “No matter what you go, you will always be in my heart.”

Oh. A lump formed in her throat. Her lips opened. No words came out, so she tried again. She closed her mouth, licked her lips and opened them again. “I love you. I will always love you.” Her voice wavered and warbled and she was staring intently on the wood. Trying to make out the lines that covered it. “Right now, I wish that I didn’t.” Her teeth gritted together and she took a deep breath to calm herself down. Her heart hurt. It ached. It felt like it weighed more than her entire being and she wanted to tear it out and throw it at him. He had captured her heart and wouldn’t give it back. She felt like a lovesick teenager. Her fists clenched. “But I can’t help it. I can’t help but love you with every fibre of my being.”

She hadn’t realised that the reason she couldn’t see the table was because the tears were already streaming down her face.

[askleta-blog]

11!

Noting here that @bunnyfangs also asked this exact number.

In what situation was your character the most afraid they’ve ever been?

In that moment, Leta felt powerless.

Later, when Aurors pull her out of the wreckage of the once-beautiful dining room, Leta is incoherent with agony. The curse crawls and creeps across her shoulder, sinking fishhooks deep into her flesh. Even later, once the curse is lifted, she curls up on the bed at St. Mungo’s and shakes and shakes and shakes.

She is glad she Obliviated the house-elf. She wants no one to know how afraid she was, the night Amalric died.

Character Development Questions: Hard Mode

[xiaohongdian]

“And is it true? Did Sang Nila Utama really find a lion there?”

I don’t know, Singapore wants to say as he absentmindedly stirs the kopi (with milk and sugar, as always) before him. He wasn’t there when his mother– his namesake– took her name, knowing only through the secondhand stories Malaysia had told him as a child, of the annals he read through as he grew older in search for the answer to a question he has yet to solve. Singapore reaches back through time and leafs through the pages of memory inherited, and tries to parse for the truth hidden behind myth.

(He wonders. Imagines. Reconstructs an answer in the space between myth and memory.)

Instead, he flashes a smile and says, “I don’t imagine it would change the outcome of this story.”

[baajisms]

It was a long story.

They must have been sat there for hours. The Guado man that had greeted Anima at the door had refilled their tea several times during the evening. At some point, Anima wasn’t sure when, he brought in some food for them. Anima barely noticed the man come in and out, focusing so much on what Tromell was telling her. Anima had nibbled as Tromell spoke. Her appetite wasn’t fully back to normal. Before becoming a Fayth, she had made sure Seymour had eaten enough to keep him at as healthy as possible. Some days it had been at the expense of going hungry herself. It hadn’t been much then and her disease hadn’t made her feel like eating much anyway. Being a Fayth meant she hadn’t needed to eat and even when she visited Dream Zanarkand, she knew what she was eating wasn’t real. Despite appearing back in Spira as a normal human again, it seemed her appetite had not yet returned to what it was. It had been a struggling to get back to eating again after not needing to for so long and there had been days when she’d simply forgotten. Perhaps it was a side-effect of what she’d been through, but part of her hoped her appetite would return to normal eventually. Tromell ate too, but as he was doing most of the talking, the mouthfuls were few and far between.

Throughout his retelling of Spira’s past 2 years, Anima peppered him with questions. He mostly told it from a Guado perspective, and it was only through her questioning that he expanded on certain events. She wasn’t entirely surprised the Farplane became unstable but wasn’t entirely clear on why. Whether Tromell knew or not, he made no comment. The Guado had always been rather secretive about how the Farplane had worked and it didn’t seem as if much had changed in that regard. It sounded like it had been fixed, partially. Anima knew from first-hand experience how unstable the Farplane had gotten. Regardless, the Guado were the best keepers for it. Their sense of the unsent and their knowledge of the Farplane gave them a distinct advantage above the rest of them. She wondered if it would ever go back to the way it was. Or if the Guado had never left their home, would it have gotten this bad at the start? Whatever power the Guado had over the Farplane and the souls that lay inside, it was a secret they’d all take to their graves.

When he finally finished, Anima could feel sleep clawing at the back of her mind. Her eyes urged her to fall asleep in the chair she sat in but she refused. She resisted the urge to rub her eyes like a child. “I feel that is enough for one night, m’lady.” Whether he could sense how tired she was growing or was feeling tired himself, Anima wasn’t sure, but she nodded. Standing up, she felt a knee click and her legs protest after being sat down for so long. She could feel the weariness seeping into the rest of her body. Her days as a Fayth had stopped the rampant illness from taking over the rest of her body, but it hadn't made her young again. She hadn’t stopped to think whether her body would like sitting down for so long. She couldn’t help but wonder if her illness would come back now, but she resisted the urge to start dwelling on it. It was a thought for a different time and one she had dwelled on for far too long already. “You can tell me the rest of your tale tomorrow.” Tromell nodded, bowing slightly as he gestured for her to follow him out. He saw her right to the entrance of the inn and bade her goodnight.

Thankfully, the inn still had rooms for the night, which meant she didn’t have to wander back to the mansion. Not that she could imagine Tromell turning her away, but it might chip away at her pride a little bit to do so. Once she had settled into the bed, sleep pulled at her body. However, it wasn’t insomnia that stopped her from falling asleep within seconds of getting into bed, it was the proposal that Tromell had given her. Her mind raced at the thought of it. What would she do? It would make visiting the areas around Guadosalam a lot easier. It had been years since she had last seen the Moonflow at night. Even longer since she had seen Macalania Temple. She knew the Fayth were no more, but perhaps she could visit the statue to pay her respects. She wondered how Bevelle was doing these days and how much it had changed. Did Yevon still hold a grip on it? Would those that knew of her chase her out? What could she do with her life? She hadn’t used her white magic in years, let alone be able to wield anything to defend herself, she was beginning to realise how lost she might be.

And that thought unnerved her.

At every major point in her life, what she did and who she was, in part, was decided for her. Her talent in white magic meant that she was to teach the next generation and to heal the wounded. Even the trouble she’d gotten herself into helping the less fortunate had sent her to the other temples. It had felt like her father wanted to keep an a close on eye her even if she wasn’t in the same city as him. She was put into an arranged marriage with Jyscal, in a hope that their marriage would bridge the gap between the two races. While Anima had certainly had feelings for the man, it wasn’t as if she’d had much choice in the matter. Her marriage had reeked of Yevon’s interference looking back on it and it made sense to marry off a devout Yevonite to the Guado. Seymour had felt like the first thing that had been mostly her choice. Hers and Jyscal’s.

What she didn’t expect was to be hated for it. To be treated like dirt, with Seymour being treated even worse for what he was. He couldn’t help it. She had done the best she could with keeping him safe but eventually it had gotten too much for even Jyscal to deal with. They’d had no choice but to go to Baaj. Training Seymour in the Summoner’s ways and eventually journeying to Zanarkand had been the second major choice that Anima had really had in life. But what had that led to? Even her own sending and Seymour’s eventual death hadn’t been her choice. When she had explained her case to Yuna, it was Yuna’s choice as to accept or not. The doing of the act that was still out of her control. Being a Fayth meant she couldn’t have been sent. Her choice to ask Yuna to end Seymour’s suffering could have easily been ignored if fallen on the wrong ears.

She’d barely had any choice in major life decisions, but now she did. And it was keeping her awake. She tossed and turned at the thought of what she should do. It couldn’t hurt her to stay in Guadosalam for a little while longer. At least until she figured out what she wanted to do and to figure out a general direction in life. But what if some of the Guado still held a grudge..? What if her presence in Guadosalam set off another set of rumblings? She hoped Tromell wouldn’t do what Jyscal had done and forcefully eject her from the mansion, but the thought lingered. Times had indeed changed, but there was a discomfort in her chest over the thought of a similar thing happening. At least if it happened again, she would not have a child to think about.

Eventually, Anima drifted off. Somewhere amongst the worry and anxiety, she must had drifted off. She awoke feeling somewhat refreshed and got herself ready. She took thing steadily, thinking about what she was to do. She was still mulling over the decision when she went out in search of some breakfast. Her gut told her to stay. Her heart doubted her gut and told her to leave Guadosalam altogether. The thought of doing the latter made her feel guilty after telling Tromell she’d come back with a decision.

Before she knew it, she was at the front doors to the mansion and they were already being opened. Anima hadn’t realised she’d wandered up to the doors, having been lost in thought all the way there. She come back to reality with a start and figured it was too late to turn back now. It would seem rude if she did. She was no closer to an answer now then she was when she’d left the inn. Maybe breakfast in the mansion would help her choose. It seemed as if Tromell was awake already, for not a couple of minutes went by when he appeared through one of the other doors. One of the other Guado must have told him she had arrived. “My Lady Anna, it’s nice to see you again.” One arm went across his midriff as he bowed. “Please, Tromell, I don’t think there is any need for formalities at this stage.” That seemed to fluster him slightly. He had always been polite to everyone he met. Formalities were part of what he did. Anima supposed it must be hard habit for him to break, especially amongst those he’d usually address formally.

“Have you…made your decision?” Anima knew the question coming and as soon as Tromell asked it, she felt dread in the pit of her stomach. She swallowed the doubts that felt like they were bubbling up in her throat. “Perhaps I would be more inclined to answer after some breakfast.” It was an attempt to put off answering the question for a moment longer. It was also rather presumptuous of her to assume she could have breakfast here, but she was willing to give it a shot. “If that is okay with you, of course?” She asked this quickly, realising that it was rather rude of her to assume she could eat here rather than somewhere else. The Inn hadn’t provided anything to eat and the innkeeper was a strange one to boot. Something about riddles and clues. “Of course!” Tromell warbled. “In truth, I have yet to eat myself and it would be nice to have some company.” That helped her relax. She had more to formulate an answer.

Tromell let the way into one of the back rooms. The table loaded with fruits didn’t look like it had changed a day. She knew the fruits would have been changed, but a small part of her wondered if it was fake. It looked almost too perfect. “Please, have a seat, Lady Anna.” He gestured towards one of the seats and almost pulled it out for her. Thankfully, she got there before he could attempt such a gesture. Part of her shrivelled at the thought of anyone doing that sort of gesture for her. She wasn’t anyone important to deserve such a thing.

Breakfast came and went. Anima picked at her food, popped a couple of grapes in her mouth at the very least. She was aware that her eyes would frequently glaze over as she thought about things. Her mind finally came to an answer, even though her stomach rumbled with unease and threatened to metaphorically flip over. She could see Tromell watching her out of the corner of her eye. He must have been wondering what was going through her mind. She slowly chewed another grape, not realising he was talking her. Her eyes were glued to a certain spot on the table, not really looking at it.

“-dy Anna?”

That was when she snapped back to reality. The name still seemed strange to her ears and it would take a while for her to adjust accordingly. She had introduced herself to Anima to all the other Fayth and to Yuna when they had first met. Tromell was the first person to call her by her given name in nearly 20 years.

“Hm? Oh, Tromell, I’m so sorry, I was off in my own little world.” She tried to brush off the fact that she was worrying about something with a soft laugh and a smile. “It’s quite alright, my dear. I asked if you had anything on your mind. You’ve been quite distracted this morning.” Her plan had failed. Had it been that obvious that there was something on her mind? Who was she kidding? The fact that she had been barely listening to Tromell speaking was telling enough considering how much attentions she was paying last night. There was no point lying to him either. Even if she told him it was nothing, she knew he wouldn’t push, but he’d keep an eye on her. She knew that much.

“I’ve been weighing up your offer and I’m in two minds about it.” Her gaze dropped to the table, her hands moving from the table to her lap. Her fingers brushed against the fabric of her dress. It felt almost too soft against her finger tips. “My mind is telling me one thing and my heart is telling me another.” A confession of something she’d felt best to keep private. The thought of Tromell thinking her stupid made her want to stop talking. She knew it was nonsense and yet the thought still prevailed. She took a deep breath and did her best to try and ignore the feeling. His intentions were well. He had always been a kind man, even if his beliefs were different. If he had spoken out against Jyscal’s decisions, would he have been dismissed. For a considerable period, he had agreed with what Seymour had done, had he done the same with Jyscal too? That thought only fuelled the small part of her mind that wanted to decline the offer and run.

She realised her eyes were beginning to glaze over and mentally shook it off before looking up. Her fingertips dug into her leg. She hoped she wasn’t making the wrong decision. “I will stay with you. If only for a time. If only until I get back on my feet and find my purpose in Spira again.” Her voice sounded more confident than she felt. She spoke as if she’d had one before. In a sense, she figured she had had a purpose before, though it was one that had been given to her by others and not one chosen by her own hand. Perhaps this time, she’d allow herself to chose something. If one thing didn’t work out, she could always try something else.

“This is marvellous news! I’ll have a bed made up for you.” His hands clasped in front of him. Joy seemed to radiate off him. A small part of her relaxed, realising that he seemed genuinely glad that she was staying. It was probably for the best. Staying it inns across Spira was going to be ineffective in the long term and she needed someone permanent to lay her head. This would be a perfect opportunity for her to figure how what she wanted to. Tromell seemed different from the last time they had met, so had the rest of the Guado. 

Tromell’s tale about what had happened with Seymour had filled in the gaps that Anna had had in her memory. Hearing things from Yuna and Seymour had put two different spins on the story and Anna knew better than to believe either of them fully. Perhaps the Guado had started to repent for the suffering they had caused all those years ago. Perhaps what happened with Seymour had finally made them realise the error of their ways. That and…being hated and ostracised by the rest of Spira. A small part of her had revelled in the fact that they had finally known how Seymour had felt when they had treated him with disdain growing up. That feeling got pushed down deep inside of her. It wasn’t good to think on such things.

Tromell pushed himself up to go, his chair making a soft noise as it as pushed back, obviously intending to get things sorted before realising that he was essentially leaving Anna on her own. “Uh…” He fumbled between wanting to sit back down with her and go and sort things out. She could see his eyes dart between her and over his shoulder. “It’s fine, Tromell. Go and do whatever you need to do. I would offer my assistance, but I feel I would only get in your way. I will sit here and finish my breakfast in the meantime.” She leaned back into her chair, trying to let the feeling of relaxation take over her. Hands folded on her lap. The movement didn’t help make her feel any more relaxed. He seemed somewhat relieved. A hand went over his chest as he bowed. “When you are finished, please make yourself at home.” He left and Anna was left alone once again.

This time felt a little different. This time she didn’t have a rising sense of panic in her chest and her stomach wasn’t summersaulting with the thought of what was coming next.