#yes estinien's so endearing <3 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blackestnight · 2 years

Text

rule of observation

fluffuary day 14: mutual pining. set during the 3.x quest chain leading up to treating with hraesvelgr/the steps of faith.

life is hard when your crush is super hot but you’re supposed to be acting like a gentleman, dammit.

The cabin Marcechamp had given over for their use—well, less of a cabin and more of a small hostel, filled with bunks and clearly meant to house whole bands of hunters—was both well-insulated and heated by a large stove, so with that and the weather of the Chocobo Forest being balmy compared to Coerthas, Aymeric took the opportunity to inspect the underlayers of his armor. He looked over each link in his chain shirt by firelight, while in the adjacent chair Hanami seemed ready to nod off with her third bowl of soup in her lap.

(She had scrubbed her own gambeson in a nearby stream and draped it over one of the bunks to dry, leaving her in a fitted shirt, and for the sake of his own sanity Aymeric made a point not to look too closely at her.)

“The locals say they’ve noticed an uptick in Dravanian activity of late,” Alphinaud announced, the breeze briefly guttering the flames before he shut the door behind him. “Though they couldn’t identify which of the dragons are Horde soldiers and which among them are Hraesvelgr’s brood.”

“Much the same as the reports from our scouts in the highlands,” Aymeric said. “But ‘tis good to have it confirmed. Thank you, Master Alphinaud.”

“I only wish there was more we could learn,” Alphinaud lamented, as he took his own seat by the stove and poured a cup of hot water, then began to search for the tea. “But the only other gossip worth hearing was speculation as to the activities of the”—he coughed, and gave an apologetic grimace—“‘bunch of blue-eyed Ishgardian bastards.’ Which I find frankly distasteful, not to mention inaccurate. I’m sorry, Ser Aymeric.”

Aymeric only smiled. “It’s quite all right. I have been called worse, and in any case I do not believe it to be an insult in this context.” Certainly he was aware that the blue bastard seemed to be a term of endearment for him among some residents of the Brume, and several of his fellow Temple Knights—not least among them Estinien—had harassed each other freely and fondly; it was mostly the highborn or jealous subordinates who spoke with any true venom, and he would have made a poor Commander if he could not keep his personal feelings on the matter from clouding his judgment.

Hanami roused at that, though, with a disapproving grunt and a scowl. “Still stupid. I am not Ishgardian, and my eyes are not blue.”

The only reason Aymeric did not feel mortified by dropping his jaw in shock was Alphinaud’s equally startled “They aren’t?”

Aymeric did not stare. It was rude, and he had been raised better. Yet he liked to think he had observed—appropriately—Hanami enough to know such basic information as the color of her eyes. They were so striking, like ice shards, quite literally glowing; he still thought often of the way she looked in dim lamplight, with the light spilling over her eyelashes. They were strange and lovely and fearsome, especially paired with her rich, warm skin.

“What do you mean?” Hanami snapped. And, despite Alphinaud sputtering and fumbling with his teacup, she rounded her luminous gaze on Aymeric.

And he lied through his teeth.

“While I confess I have never looked particularly closely,” he said, praying all the while for his habitual flush to spare his ears, “I was under the impression they were blue, yes.”

“Idiots,” Hanami muttered, “blind as statues—” and then she was standing, depositing her half-empty bowl on the floorboards to stalk over to Aymeric’s chair, to plant her hands on the arm—so close to his elbow, he could feel the heat of her skin, and—

Her eyes were green, he realized, with their noses ilms apart. Beautiful, bright, like the sharp taste of mint or the color of an emerald crushed into powder, or scratched to pieces by a diamond. Her eyes were green and limned with blue the color of a frozen river and brilliant enough to stop his heart, and so close, looking down at him through her lashes—so close he could feel the warm puffs of her breathing over his cheeks, over his mouth, he could smell the soup she’d just been eating and the cheap soap she must have bathed with and the woodsmoke caught in her hair—

Somewhere on the other side of the world, Alphinaud coughed, and Hanami jerked backward as her frown settled back into place, though Aymeric couldn’t remember when exactly it had vanished at all.

“Piss off,” she announced to the room at large, and stomped into the tiny adjoining washroom. The walls seemed to shake from the force with which she slammed the door. Aymeric focused very hard on maintaining a mask of polite confusion. Alphinaud sipped his tea with rather more volume than required.

(That night, when Aymeric looked away from staring at the bottom of the bunk above him toward the beds adjacent, he caught the briefest spark of blue like a beacon in the dark trained on him before Hanami closed her eyes and turned her face away.)

#final fantasy xiv #s: a minor justice #oc: hanami hagane #fluffuary 2022 #aymeric de borel #alphinaud leveilleur #it's okay aymeric her tongue is actually blue #have fun finding that out later #also! fun fact. i am somewhat blue-green colorblind.#i am not going to admit how long it took me to realize hanami's eyes were green.#(it took a long time)#writing - mine

30 notes · View notes

wingfics · 3 years

Text

just gave myself space buns for the first time and i'm thinking about reactions to it. specifically ignis, haru, and aymeric. word of warning these all get longer as i go bc i cannot be stopped <3

ignis just goes Straight As A Board when he sees them. he can't stop staring for a good thirty seconds. he can't even lie to himself about it. the circumstances surrounding this moment are entirely unremarkable within the context of their lives: an impromptu camping trip, a long drive into the mountains north of insomnia. as per usual, gladio was the only one to dress in anything resembling camping attire (although prompto had certainly made an effort with his new cargo shorts), but for the occasion, helenis had seen fit to dust off their high waisted shorts and baseball cap, likely stolen from noctis. (he's honestly pretty proud of how he manages to keep his eyes above their shoulders for most of the morning.) on the drive, helenis had pulled their hair into a ponytail, pretending not to notice as prompto braided and unbraided a lock of it. now, however, as helenis leans back to back with noct, posing for a photo with their brother, ignis just cannot stop staring. he's grown up around helenis, he's fairly sure he's immune to their... everything by this point (don't dwell on that don't dwell on that do NOT dwell on that), but he can still feel the pink climbing up his cheeks. worse still, his gaze slips unbidden to the line of their thighs, stretched out in a wholly artificial arrangement that only accentuates the arch of their back and the curve of their- a click from the camera spares him that line of thought and brings him crashing back into the present. fortunately for him, helenis doesn't seem to notice his thrall, still entirely focused on prompto and the camera. by the g-ds, that pout could start and stop wars. noct, however, is not nearly so beneficent in his ignorance. "see something interesting, specs?" the smug drawl does little to curb ignis' flush, but he's proud of his composure when he finds the breath to respond: "is that hairstyle new, helenis?" they brighten instantly the second their gaze meets his. "yeah! i've never tried it before, but i think my hair is long enough now- wh- hey!" distracted by the click of prompto's camera, helenis lunges for him, swiping at his camera with the typical care to make sure it didn't actually get damaged. safely freed from the floodlight of their attention, ignis finally breathes out for the first time in a while--how long had he been holding his breath?--and musters up as threatening of a squint as he can at noct's lazy, knowing cheshire grin. "not a word, noctis."

haurchefant very noticeably stumbles when he sees calanthe leaning on the edge of his desk, dark hair swept into two low buns instead of their regular braid. "dear warrior!" he gasps, scrambling with the stack of parchment that has almost slipped from his hands. "how fortuitous it is to see you again! what brings you to camp dragonhead?" calanthe looks up from the paperwork on his desk, and even after months, haru's breath still hitches when purple meets blue. they smile that small, familiar smile, ears swivelling to face him, and he hurries to set down the parchment on his desk before setting a hand on calanthe's shoulder. the muscle under his fingers shifts, but they don't seem uncomfortable with his touch. he can't help but beam at them, basking in his friend's undivided attention and returning it in kind. oh right, the buns! he inspects them more closely. "i must ask, are those a new trend?" he asks, nodding to their hair. calanthe's smile widens into something adorably close to a grin, one ear flicking in poorly-stifled affection. "no, merely a style i wanted to try. do you like it?" haurchefant couldn't stop his smile from broadening if he tried. "'like it?' why, i'm utterly taken by them, my friend! i wrongly assumed that you could not get more breathtaking, but let it be said that i have never been more pleased to be wrong." by the end of his little declaration, cal's eyes have narrowed affectionately at him, their tail twitching where it's curled around his back. "flatterer," they accuse without much heat. "but of course! lest my dear hero go unappreciated and their praises unsung!"

aymeric looks up from a zoning ordinance and directly into the wine-dark gaze of his warrior, this time blanketed in gentle reproach. "aymes, it's quarter til." he blinks once, twice at this before glancing over to the clock on his desk (a "gift", aka thinly veiled threat, from lucia) and grappling for a frankly embarrassing amount of time with the numbers, startling when he realises that it's a quarter til two, not midnight. "oh," he sighs, rubbing at his eyes and blinking away their sudden sandpaper. the lord speaker, reduced to monosyllables in front of the person of his affections. how far he has fallen in his creeping exhaustion. he's brought rapidly back to reality by cal snapping their fingers just under his nose, snapping him out of a sleepy daze that he hadn't noticed he'd fallen into. "hmm? oh, yes. i should certainly sleep. rest assured my dear, i will turn in for the night soon," he says, waving a limp wrist at the couch in the corner of his office. it's not the most forgiving surface, but it's vaguely horizontal and not covered in live bees. he's certainly slept in more uncomfortable places. "not so," cal hums, following his line of sight and stepping in between him and the couch. he looks up at them again, brow furrowing. "oh no- i assure you, dear friend, that the couch is more than adequate. i will be fine left to mine own devices." cal hums again, eyes sharpening, before their hand darts out to grab his wrist as he makes to shuffle through the remaining paperwork. "i'm afraid i'm insisting, lord speaker." their grip and gaze soften before they continue, "i will see you back to house borel before the second bell, or i will not go at all." aymeric can do nothing but gape at them for a moment, tired brain finally stunned into silence. "but- i must protest-" he tries, only to be silenced by calanthe's exhausted sigh. "ser aymeric. come with me. i would not make the walk back to house fortemps alone at this hour besides." halone be damned. for all calanthe's insistence that they'd make for a poor politician, they certainly know all of the ways to get him out from behind his desk. on the next exhale, aymeric allows the tension to drain from his shoulders, rolling his neck a couple of times before setting about tidying his desk. calanthe smiles.

as aymeric stands, the last of his work set aside for tomorrow (well, later today), he gratefully takes calanthe's proferred hand and allows himself to be tugged close to their side- and stumbles for a moment. are those... buns? cal blinks at him before responding with a drawn out "yes". whoops. he hadn't meant to ask that aloud. he must be even more tired than he'd thought. abandoning all pretense, he squints at his warrior's hair, wondering at the thought process behind it. "they're very.... fetching," he offers, and the way cal's nose wrinkles is counterintuitively endearing. "fetching?" they echo incredulously. "the best word you came up with is 'fetching'? twelve, you really are tired, aren't you..." aymeric shakes his head comically quickly, wincing as a headache starts to make itself known, before clarifying, "forgive me, dear, i thought you'd find the descriptor of 'adorable' disagreeable, no matter how truthful." though their face remains neutral, cal's ears betray them: one flicks back, a self-conscious response to flattery that aymeric picked up on quickly in the presence of lord haurchefant. "they're quite distinctive, too," he continues, still trying to find non-patronising adjectives, but calanthe cuts him off with a shake of their head and a fond half-smile. "oh, come on. off with you. estinien is likely still waiting." at aymeric's look of surprise, their smile grows a smirk. "yes, indeed. after accompanying me here, he issued a thinly veiled threat to make you come home before lauching himself over the rooftops back home. you know his wont." aymeric drops his head, chuckling at his feet before squeezing calanthe's hand again. as they lead him to the door, he thinks of his warrior of light, of his wayward dragoon waiting for him, and takes naught but a moment to lock the door behind him before setting off home.

#YES this got long YES i rly do love aymeric a concerning amount YES square enix owns my ass what of it #haru's dialogue is HARD to write #making it distinct from aymes is Tricky rn but hopefully w more exposure to both of them it'll get easier #mine #my writing #hcs #crush tag #ALL OF THESE LADS R CRUSH TAG CAN U BELIEVE IT #gd it's rly past time for a retagging huh #anyway. it's quarter til 1 here and like aymes i am Sleeby #where's MY warrior of light who will take me by the hand and coax ME to bed (ft one warm surly dragoon) D:

1 note · View note