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i like inanimate objects cuz they dont let me down and cant feel things 🥲 im fine

In which the Warrior of Light returns from their foray into the first, possessing a confidence both new and perhaps frightening to the Lord Commander.

There is no sudden fanfare to your arrival. You sweep into the city like the mists which churn before a coming storm, soundless. No messenger is sent to retrieve him. When he learns of your return, it is because you are in front of him, perched on the desk of his study like you never left. Aymeric blinks. Once. Twice. To dispel the mirage that he has dreamt in your absence.

You do not fade. You are real, and the weight of your absence collapses into his bones all at once. He stands in the doorway, nearly slack-jawed, for several moments.

It all happens at once.

"My friend! You've returned!" he stutters around the word, feeling out of his own body as he stumbles into the room. You slide off the desk. A sudden briskness to your step belies your desire to meet him halfway. There is no force on this mortal plane that could prevent him from reaching you, he thinks, but he finds himself befuddled on what to do, how to act when you're finally within arm's reach.

For what exists between you and him has never been clearly defined. Are you aware of how pained he has been in your absence? Do you know that you carved out a hollow, a hunger within him that only your presence can satisfy? Are you aware that every moment he is not holding you in his arms is sheer agony?

He needn't puzzle. Your arms curl around him first. Your fingers furl into the lavish, plentiful fabric of his cobalt robe. Your face buries into his chest. If he could somehow pull you inside of him, he would, he realizes absentmindedly. The world around him crawls like molasses, for all he sees and hears and smells is you. He takes in shameless lungfuls of your scent, buries his face in the crook of your neck.

"You love me, don't you?" you say, speaking to him for the first time in six months. His eyes open wide, and he briefly wonders just how many times you will surprise him this night.

"I do." For what else is he to say? Is he supposed to lie? Keep his long-buried feelings in their dusty old tomb for the sake of antiqued modesty? "Since the moment you won the Steps of Faith."

"Covered in blood and sweat?" you ask with a laugh, a smile curling your lips and wrinkling your nose.

"Both in equal measure," his voice comes out as a sheepish, breathy laugh. He so vividly remembers the sight of you, fresh out of the fight, cheeks smeared with soot and crimson. The hungry, haunted look in your eyes has dogged him in his every moment since. "...Is it presumptuous to assume you hold the same feelings for me?"

"No," you reply. You carry yourself with a new confidence, a new pace. There is something voracious at the edges of you. It reminds him of Estinien, in a way, who always keeps his beast at bay with lance and fist in the solitude of the high mountains or the far east. There's a gleam in your eyes that lets Aymeric know that you have welcomed whatever has seeded and grown within you, embraced the heady call of power during your time away. "It's good. Because we're going to get married."

"I beg your pardon?" He's unsure if he's heard you right, but his lips pull into an appeasing smile nonetheless. With every moment, he grows more and more uncertain of his own reality.

"We're getting married," you echo, as if it were a simple fact of life. "Is that a problem?"

"No! None at all. It is simply... sudden, especially in the wake of your long absence," Aymeric says, hovering hands finally resting on your hips to draw you closer. "Do not doubt me when I say there would be no greater honor than marrying you, my love. I simply fear that I will not be able to pay you the attention you deserve. Ishgard is still... struggling to comprehend all that has changed with the end of the Dragonsong War. I am required more than ever at the House of Lords—"

"Oh. That?" you tilt your head to the side, raising a brow. His heartbeat spikes beneath your hands as they rest atop his chest, unprotected by his usual mantle and armor. Your fingers press against the slight fat of his pectorals, and he suddenly feels like he has cotton in his mouth. "Are people still giving you trouble, Aymeric?"

"It's only natural. War is all we have known for centuries. It could take just as much time to—"

"All you have to do is say the word and I can take care of anyone you want, Aymeric."

"I appreciate the sentiment, truly. I do not know what I have done to earn the loyalty of someone so resplendent," he begins, corners of his smile growing tighter. Sweat begins to bead at the back of his neck under the scrutinizing weight of your gaze. Even whilst you are cradled in the long stretch of his body, he feels smaller, somehow. He feels inspected, feels transparent. The smoke and mirror diplomacy he has mastered over a lifetime vanish under the intensity of your attentions. "But we cannot—"

"Who would stop me?" you interrupt. The strange, intent focus you have seems to vanish all at once. The fervent darkness clouding your gaze relaxes, taut lines of your face mellowing. "Really, who could do it, Aymeric? I have slain Nidhogg. I have saved your beautiful city time and time again, no one on your little council of fools can argue that. Even if we disregard all I have done for Ishgard, I have killed gods and men leagues stronger than any of your soldiers."

How did the conversation end up here? Aymeric feels hopelessly lost, all of the sudden. The rug pulled out from underneath him, the tight well of black ocean water crushing him. Where have you been, for these six months?

He dares ask none of these questions as you curl your fingers into the back of his hair, pull him down to say the words against his lips. Your teeth graze his chapped skin. He thinks, in that moment, that you could eat him. (Some part of him wishes you would.)

"As long as you have me, you don't need to cooperate with anyone else.

#aymeric #aymeric de borel #ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #oz write #not beta read #not even proof read #i typed this with my pussy and nothin else #this wol is insane but like is she?#is she really?#or is she just self aware #aymeric/reader #fathoming ffxiv

“ --- yeah i’m gonna become queen of the pirates.”

#🐸 here come dat keroppi ( open. )#is she really?

daphné’s a lesbian though why would she be with either of them

Wait... What? 👀

#Is she really?#Has it been confirmed?#Im-#Daphne #Ask #Skam france #Skam fr