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gefiltefished · 9 months

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70 for cidutha :>

my magnum opus of bittersweet breakup fluff...finally complete 🥲

ty my love!! 💖

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70. kissing in a stairwell, giving them an artificial height difference || 1,504 words (Endwalker spoilers!!)

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Cid has never seen so many flowers in one room before. Every surface heaving with bright sprays, ornately wrapped parcels and bundles of letters wherever a gap can be spared. And he has never felt smaller than he does as he stares at the quietly sleeping Warrior of Light, her bed the only space clear of offerings.

An unnatural part of him says he shouldn't even be here, as she's no longer his...no, she never was his wife, was she? Had he not sat on his hands for so long, been so content with what he'd assumed was happy stability for so many years, would she still have turned away from what they had? Would it have been enough?

'Don't wait for me. I love you, more than you'll ever know, but I...I can't do this anymore. Just let me go, please.'

Those parting words have echoed in his mind for the past few days, first whispered to him before she left to hunt her quarry in the far reaches of the universe. And still they rumbled when the Ragnarok returned, thundering as he saw the weary procession of the Scions leaving the ship, her stretcher borne between them.

Now here he stands, in this veritable shrine to her bravery, ignoring her last words to him and yet too craven to go to her side, for fear of shattering whatever illusions he has of this simply being a nightmare they've both yet to wake from.

He takes a deep breath, shuddering in his chest as though the room has frozen over, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides while he watches her for a few moments more; still and bruised but breathing.

And then he leaves.

And he doesn't come back.

Sequestered in the depths of Thaumazein, he avoids the question he doesn't have an answer for. Doesn't want to know. The others soon learn to stop asking, though the murmurs and worried looks between them prickle him all the same.

Days, perhaps a week? Longer? Difficult to tell how long has passed underground, this self imposed exile timeless by design. But eventually he has to leave, what further work he can do with the Ragnarok exhausted for now.

As is he, bleary eyed and stone legged as he staggers out into the dawn.

He barely registers where he's going as he walks down the myriad staircases away from the Forum, the place at present mercifully empty of any wandering scholars with their noses buried in a tome to sleepwalk into.

The salt of the sea hits him, bright and sharp as the sunlight splitting through the crystal of the aetheryte as he passes through the plaza, starting down the steps towards the harbour. As he does, a familiar, much heavier scent is carried on the wind; tobacco smoke and Thavnairi rose oil.

Utha is perched on the wall before the last staircase and leaning on a pillar while she takes another drag, smoke curling on the faint breeze. She doesn't look up as he slows, but continues his approach, instead keeping her gaze fixed across the water. A little ache twists in the pit of his stomach, every past sunrise they've shared together seeming so far away now. The last few steps are agonising, the thought of turning back an easy one to indulge.

But he owes it to himself and to her, to not leave things where they stand.

Finally she looks around, eyes a little wide on seeing him. The bruises around the corner of her mouth and eye are less swollen and dark, her arm bound in a sling just visible beneath the heavy woollen cloak slung around her shoulders. Gods only know what state she's in underneath it all and the ache in him pulls harder, with guilt now, for not knowing. It's been easier to ignore, to imagine himself more deeply wounded, without seeing her.

Utha shifts gingerly in her seat, stubbing out her cigarillo and pats the space next to her. He accepts the offer, hopping up beside her, though stares down at his hands in his lap. Neither seems to want to be the first to break the silence, unbearable though the tight, fraying thread between them is.

A pair of students come down the stairs, arm in arm, excitedly whispering between themselves as they spot the two. One, a young sea wolf, can't quite contain herself and presents herself to Utha with a nervous grin, her au ra companion urging her on.

"It…it is you, isn't it?" She stammers, anxiously fiddling with her glasses. "I don't mean to bother you, but I-"

Despite her obvious exhaustion, Utha still graciously nods, offering the younger woman a small smile.

"Aye, it's me. What can I do for you…?"

"Oh! Er, Beralona, miss," The pink haired roegadyn replies breathlessly, reaching for her friend's arm to pull her forward. "A-and this is Ryuko."

The raen shyly waves, nodding.

All the while, Cid says nothing, offers nothing but sullen indifference. Ordinarily, he'd be all too happy to chat and listen to the singing of Utha's praises, but his patience for it all is running thin right now. And it's clearly palpable, the girls looking between themselves nervously.

"We won't keep you any longer," Beralona mumbles. "Just wanted to…to say hello."

"And thank you," Ryuko adds, Beralona nodding quickly. "To you as well, Master Garlond."

Cid starts at this mention, finally acknowledging the girls with an upward glance and a short nod.

"Don't let Kokkol hear you say that too loudly." He manages a half smile, Utha snorting at the quip while the Sharlayans shrug, nonplussed. They wave goodbye and carry on their way, leaving the air a little less heavy in their wake.

He turns to Utha, reaching over for her hand. She takes it, squeezing his fingers tight as she looks back at him sadly.

"What are we doing here, love?" Cid asks softly, running his thumb along her bruised knuckles. Utha sighs with a stuttering breath, shaking her head.

"I don't know," She says quietly. "I shouldn't have left you with that hanging over you before, I know-"

"Why did you, then?" The question is firmer than perhaps she deserves right now, but Utha doesn't flinch either, looking right back at him.

"Because it's hard, Cid. It's fucking hard to hold myself together for anyone, when there's so little left for me."

It's his turn to avoid her gaze again, cowed by the brutal honesty. She sighs, Cid watching her pinch her brow from the corner of his eye.

"You know the last thing I ever want is to hurt you." She drops her voice to a near whisper now, leaning in close with her good arm around his shoulders and cheek pressed to his. He leans back against her, the warmth and weight of her so close to him too tempting to ignore after all this time.

"But I can't give anything more right now, not even to you. And it would be cruel of me to ask you to carry on like that."

"What if I wanted to anyway?" Cid murmurs, wrapping his arm around her waist as he sinks deeper into her.

"It doesn't work that way," Utha says with a sad laugh. "and you deserve better than that, besides."

"Do I?"

She nudges his chin up with a finger and thumb, looking at him with weary fondness. "Yes."

"I'll take your word for it, then." He sighs, lips curled as she kisses his temple. Reluctantly, they sit up, the warmth of the now risen sun a pitying substitute for holding one another. Stretching, Utha gets to her feet.

"I ought to go. Wanted to try Dickon's new pudding before Krile figures I snuck out of bed again…only so much archon loaf anyone can endure, y'know?"

She grins at him, despite the gleam of her eyes watering.

"It's not so bad when you get used to the- ah, who am I fooling," Cid grimaces, following her lead. "It's foul."

Utha nods sadly, turning to walk down the steps.

"But-" He quickly adds, all but running after her. She stops, low enough on the staircase to be eye to eye with him. "Might I ask for one more favour, for old time's sake?"

"Seeing as it's you…"

Cid smiles, sniffling as he reaches down to hold her face and presses the softest of kisses to her lips, Utha winding her arm around his neck, deepening it. They hold each other there, silent tears on their faces saying more than words need to.

"Go," He whispers, fingers lingering on her cheek as he draws away. "Have your fill and more, my love."

She mouths the words 'thank you' and quickly turns away from him before she thinks better of it and Cid watches over her every step, the sun a halo around her silhouette. This last sunrise will be bitter by tomorrow, bittersweet in the weeks to come, but right now it's honey in his mouth.

#ffxiv #cidwol #if u need me ill be sobbing over my cigarette okay BYE

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nebulaships · 10 months

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Beach Day 🏖

#nebulaships #final fantasy xiv #ffxiv #cid garlond #cid nan garlond #ff14 #ff14 online #self insert #self ship #yumeship #cidwol #shipping: of Magitecks & Music 🎶

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punningway · 10 months

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Challenge: Draw/gpose your ship in this pose!

Cid and Lura tried, but Lura is a curvy lady, so they mostly just ended up cracking up.

#ffxiv #gposers #lura luna #cid garlond #cid x lura #cidwol #wolship #them #garlond girl

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stimulated-radiation-emission · 1 year

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i understand the grahawol and haurchewol shippers who are convinced the npc is written to be in love with the player character in canon because im one of those people now about cidwol now

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echoeswithinyou · 2 years

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Lots of rambling and very muddled Emet feels regarding Nyx.

Alright...where exactly to start...

I’ve mentioned before that Nyx has had...many an issue with the Imperials. Her home was destroyed in their expansion efforts. And later on (this is new btw), when she helps that Lieutenent in the investigation of the abadnoned village in Gyr Abania, she finds a few buried boxes of belonings. In one of them...she finds a dagger. A small one, more ceremonial than anything..but. it belonged to her father. She also finds a crystal necklace, small, round, and orange. That belonged to her mother.

Nyx gets her closure in the worst way possible regarding her parents. Yes, she has known for years now that they more than likely didn’t survive, but knowing now that they died so...

Well.

Here comes the interesting bit..

Emet-Selch IS the face of the Empire. Thing is, Nyx has no clue the man is bascially responsible for their deaths. If she knew...well. There’d be nothing there to work with, hmm?

However...Emet knows. Because this man just does, the insufferable, rat bastard. And he both doesn’t care...but also deep down hates himself for it. Because it hurt her.

Nyx starts out disliking him. I mean, he’s an Ascian. He’s a threat to their very existance. And on top of that, he wears the body of the late Emperor Solus. A bit of a two part whammy there. But, as she has learned in her travels, in her talks with Cid, Nero, the other Garleans she has made friends and allies with, she locks her misgivings and judgemnts away as best as possible. Plus, he’s an Ascian that isn’t just outright minded to kill her.

He confuses her thoroughly. He’s brutally honest, he tells her exactly what he plans to do (minus the little detail about the ramifications of her absorbing Light), what he feels...Then, despite all of that, he helps her. Saves one of her beloved friends when really, he could have just left her there to die.

Which makes things muddled. And when he starts to visit her whenever she’s at the Crystarium...things get more and more muddled. An answering longing starts to pulse through her being and she has no idea why. For a time, it brings about a softer Emet, for even if he’s in great denial of what that could mean, he can’t...fight it. They can’t fight it.

(he has half a mind of killing her to get away from it, seeing it as a failing of his mortal body...but it isn’t)

And dear gods does this cause such angusih in her. What about Cid? How could she...?

Needless to say, she keeps this to herself. It’s intensely personal and Cid...Cid doesn’t need to know. She can’t bring herself to hurt him. He’d been through too much already and she does still very much love him. But Emet has all but consumed her here on the First.

The man has been depressed, both sure and unsure of his decisions that have brought everything to this point. His being in complete and utter thrall to Zodiark, of which he knows. He knows and can’t fight.

His interest in her starts to bloom into a very small ray of hope and Nyx...oh does she wish to prove his plans wrong. And he wants her to. By all that is good in that wretched universe, he wants her to prove him wrong.

Then Vauthry happens. And it crumbles at her feet. Not only is he bitterly disappointed in her, but she is as well. Everything that built up between them is shuttered. But it’s not gone. Hence his bid for her to find him.

And she does.

His words hurt her when they meet again in The Tempest..in the rebuilt memory of Amurot, there is no doubt.

“ For eons have I measured your worth and found you wanting!”

Having seen the Final Days as he remembered them, it hurts. Yet she understands. Her plight may have been on a much smaller scale, but she understands. For a thirteen year old, being told to run and not look back, the very world felt as though it were ending. And then of course, the Calamity happens nught ten years later. So she understands.

Which is why she must end him. One of them need not lose their loved ones again and he’s been in too much pain for too long.

That ache deep in her breast intensifies. And unbeknownst to her, it intensifies in his...because he’s still in denial....until he’s not. Until he’s made to see.

Ardbert’s shard joins with hers and finally breaks that denial for him, but he still fights it, because he can’t fight Zodiark. But in his eons deep heart of hearts, he knows and hopes.

The fight between them is intense, and with the other shards surroudning him...

Emet breaks. He can’t fight the tempering. He has to kill her. But she suceeds. She succeeds. Her soul has proven that she is that worthy sucessor. As he’d known all along.

Broken from his tempering, he bids her to remeber them. Before he fades finally into the lifestream, she tells him of her feelings. Both hatred and love mingling freely. Hate - for the pain he caused, for the deaths he caused for he cannot be absolved of them. Love - for the loneliness he endured, for the loss he suffered, for his help, his honesty, his very self. It’s very bittersweet and she knows the others would never truly understand...and it gets worse when she finds the trail he leaves her. To the asnswers he couldn’t voice while still alive.

#ffxiv #emetwol #cidwol #emet-selch #wol: nyx

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gefiltefished · 9 months

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you know what i'm about to do...

🖤 for cidutha

:))) thanks babe <3

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🖤 kissing while crying / goodbye kiss / desperation || 592 words (practically a drabble for me lmao- also some vague Shadowbringers spoilers)

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Steady breaths in the dark, unchanging, day by day, night by night.

Tataru has done her best, as she always has for them all, lovingly trimming hair and nails, shaving stubble and gently washing ever more ashen faces. But Utha can't bear to look, can't force herself to turn away. Stands sentinel by the dividing curtain, feeling as thin as the canvas hanging from it, knuckles as white where she holds the frame tight.

Only by the Lalafell's gentle urging does she finally leave the room, staggering aimlessly out into the main hall of the Rising Stones and through the doors to the saloon. It's busy tonight, her uneasy walk marking her no different to the tipsy crowd, save perhaps the glazed, hollow-eyed stare she gives a man in reply to his apologising for clipping her as she passes by.

Outside, the violet haze of Mor Dhona's gloom is a welcome reprieve from the din and light and smoke. But looking across the plaza, the dread twisting in her belly does not lessen. She's sure the Ironworks hands have passed on the news of her return and three days later she's still yet to show her face.

Nor has he deigned to do her the same.

And why would he? Why would he know of the months she has spent in a reality only made possible by her own death, haunted by the legacy of a man whom she knew inside out and yet felt so alien all at once. And why would he know how hollow she feels, brittle and like to fall apart at one more push forward, one more impossible task yoked to her neck.

Even so, she finds herself at the Ironworks' door, hand raised to knock-

"Aha! Found you at last!"

Utha freezes at the arms around her waist, at the voice she's only heard repeated through the distorted crackle of an audio log on a tomestone, held in shaky hands.

She whirls around, grips his shoulders and stares down at his waiting, smiling face, blue eyes bright even in the dim lamplight. Then she sinks to her knees with a hoarse sob, Cid's face falling as fast as he follows her to the ground.

"Utha??" He panics, reaching for her face as she tries to muffle her crying against his chest, trembling in his hands. Gently, he lifts her head, brushes her hair out of her eyes, drying her tears with the pad of his thumbs.

"My darling, what's wrong?" He soothes through a nervous laugh. "It hasn't been so long you've forgotten me already, has it?"

"D-Don't-!" She chokes out, shaking her head frantically and tugging at the lapels of his jacket. "Don't say that…please."

"Right," Cid quickly nods. "Not the time, I get it."

Utha takes a deep breath, then a couple more, closing her eyes. His hands are warm where they cradle her face, the ever present callouses feather soft for the comfort they give. He's here again, real and breathing and by her side, as he always has been.

"I just," She stammers, slowly lifting her eyes to meet his, watering again at his pained expression as he listens. "I missed you. I missed you so much."

She doesn't give him a chance to answer, drawing him in close, lips quivering as she kisses him, all salt and sharp, uneven breaths, until she feels steady again, at least for a little while.

"I missed you too." Is the whisper he presses against her mouth and for the first time in days, she smiles.

#ffxiv #cidwol #my baby is goin through it 🥺

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