#anomalie writes

[anomaliewrites]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 20/20 Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Warrior of Light/Thancred Waters, Warrior of Light & Thancred Waters Characters: Giott (Final Fantasy XIV), Ryne | Minfilia, G'raha Tia, Y'shtola Rhul, Urianger Augurelt, Alphinaud Leveilleur, Alisaie Leveilleur, Krile Mayer Baldesion (Final Fantasy XIV), Tataru Taru, Thancred Waters, Scions of the Seventh Dawn, Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Zoeya Zana, Au Ra Characters (Final Fantasy XIV), Unukalhai (Final Fantasy XIV), Moenbryda Wilfsunnwyn, Lyna (Final Fantasy XIV) Additional Tags: Slow Burn, Female Friendship, Grown adults who can't deal with feelings, Fluff and Humor, Bad Flirting, Found Family, Drinking, sex mention, Angst, Demisexual Warrior of Light, Female Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Hurt/Comfort, actual sexytimes have commenced, Raen cultural headcanons abound, because if canon won't provide I will Series: Part 2 of Blade and Quill Summary:

Every day The Warrior of Darkness puts herself at risk without flinching - but not like this. How much of herself is she willing to give for the chance to walk in uncharted territory?

Spoilers for the end of Shadowbringers, patch 5.1 and the Healer role quest.

Chapter 20: Epilogue is up. Work complete!

(04/24/2021 - author's note added to ch. 6 for your reading pleasure)

[anomaliewrites]

First Lines Meme

Tagged by: @to-the-voiceless

Rules: post the first spoken lines of the main characters (however you define that) of your WIP with no context whatsoever.

(Following in my tagger’s footsteps and posting a whole exchange because I feel like it)

Zoeya stands very still.

The temperature in the room drops.

“Sorry, lovey,” Aenor pouts at her. “Seems there’s nowhere left to sit. Be a dear and pull up a chair, yeah?”

Ochre Boulder nods, besotted, from behind his lady’s shoulder and lumbers over towards the nearest table, utterly ignorant of the fact he wasn’t the one addressed. Aenor leans her elbow on the bar and places her chin in her hand, fixing Thancred with her best coquettish moue. “So how ‘bout it, then? A little sport, just like old times?”

Zoeya doesn’t move.

Thancred downs his drink quickly, setting his empty glass on the counter. “I’ll pass. I do believe my gambling days are behind me.”

Ochre drags a stool with one hand, and the steady scrape against the stone floor echoes in the sudden hush that fallen over the bar. Aenor laughs, something honeyed and rich that turns his stomach. “There’s no gamble,” she purrs, reaching seductively towards him and trailing down his sleeve with a single red-lacquered nail, oblivious to the frost gathering on her bottle, “in a sure b– “

Zoeya intercepts Aenor’s hand.

“He said no.”

She had approached on silent feet, just like he’d taught her; Calm. Focused. Her grip is loose, gaze slowly rising to meet his.

“Leave it, Zoeya,” he soothes under his breath. “I have this under control.”

“Oi, Zo,” Aenor whines, swaying on her stool as she sets down her beer and tries to pull her hand back. “I know ya don’t appreciate the – the – the - finer things in life,” Aenor slurs, giggling at her own joke; the sound echoes off the empty rafters as she winks lasciviously, leans in close and adds in her best stage whisper, “ but read the room, would’ya?”

Slowly, ever so slowly:

Zoeya’s gaze travels down Thancred’s shoulder.

Across the space between them.

Over Aenor’s arm…

… and up to her witless face.

Somewhere, a glass shatters.

Tagging @eremiss, @phaedra-mero, @rhymingteelookatme, @evangeline-cross, and anyone else who wants to do it!

[anomaliewrites]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: My Time At Portia (Video Game) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Female Builder/Gust (My Time At Portia), Albert/Sonia (My Time At Portia), Antoine/Dr. Xu (My Time At Portia), the last two ships are background only and wave cordially from a distance Characters: Female Builder (My Time At Portia), Gust (My Time At Portia), Albert (My Time At Portia), Ginger (My Time At Portia), QQ (My Time At Portia), Gale (My Time At Portia), Sonia (My Time At Portia), Antoine (My Time At Portia), Emily (My Time At Portia), Mei (My Time At Portia), Alice (My Time At Portia), Russo (My Time At Portia), Arlo (My Time At Portia), Nora (My Time At Portia), Pinky (My Time At Portia), pretty sure I'm gonna need to tag the whole town at some point Additional Tags: The Wonders of Living in A Small Town, Slow Burn, Gust is both dense and emotionally repressed (but we knew that already), Female Builder does not take his shit, Albert is best bro and deserves a raise, small town gossip, Arlo-romance related spoilers, Processing grief and past trauma, rated M for safety but could probably pass for T tbh Summary:

Gust does not care that a new Builder has come to town.

At all.

Not one bit.

[anomaliewrites]

I've finally started writing again recently after a months-long hiatus. It feels really good.

I think I was so invested in Zoeya and Thancred for so long that my brain literally spun itself into a rut - "if you can't write about these two you can't write at all" type thing. Writing for a completely different game, in a completely different genre, has been a great way to stretch my legs and get back out there.

If there happen to be any My Time at Portia fans following me, look forward to a link sometime soon!

[anomaliewrites]

I slept well last night for the first time in four years.

Ever since that night in 2016 when I found out who would be sitting in the White House, a sense of existential dread has hung over me - and it's only been proven right at every turn. It's been a hard four years, and I count myself and my husband among the lucky ones: he can work from home and my job was deemed essential. We still have a roof over our heads and the luxury of thinking about buying gifts for the holidays. I've had a few close calls but never contracted COVID. We both have the luck of being born with an invisible backpack that others have not.

As someone who works in mental healthcare, it has been tearing me up inside to see how much my patients, especially those of color, have been suffering on a daily basis. I was beginning to despair; to feel that no matter what I did to heal the hurts, the constant indignities of living would tear them back open again. I listened to my own father spout rhetoric that would have appalled him 10 years ago. I fought daily with patients to convince them COVID was real, to wear a mask, only to hear them regret their folly when they or someone close to them fell ill. I watched helplessly as children were put in cages, as the memory of RBG was sullied by McConnell not hours after her death, and wondered if the country i grew up in had reached the point of no return.

Over the last week, I have watched in awe as the people of every state voted in numbers never before seen in history; how despite transparent voter suppression, the antiquated institution of the Electoral College, and mail-in ballots being decried as "fraud" by the sitting administration without cause, the American people stood up and said:

"No More."

There is still so, so much work to be done. But, at least for tonight -

I can rest.