#caught up!

FFXIV Rare Pair Week 2026 - Day 7 Free Day

Arai adapts this chapter from pages 122–128 of Volume 3 of the Japanese manga, soon to appear in the English translation's second omnibus.

His designs for Brevet, Chenildieu, and Cochepaille (right-to-left at the top of the page) seem to do a good job of following their Brick descriptions.

DWC 2022 - Day 2

She'd always struggled with addiction - ever since the fall of the Sunwell, when they'd all known the pangs of an addiction that had long been perpetuated on... what? An arcane, and metaphysical level? Lily didn't know the inner workings of it all - just that she'd done what so many other Quel'dorei had... and she'd turned to fel. She'd turned to the Blood Knights, as well, to try and... look like a proper noble. That's what you did in times of war, was it not? Both had been terrible, life-altering decisions. Plenty of other Sin'dorei had gotten their shit together, with time... but not her. The hunger had been mightier than her - but at least when they'd been at war, there was always something louder than the addiction. There were always more demons, more orcs - another campaign on the dusty, red planet.

Perhaps her addiction had been channeled into the wars she fought, as it wasn't long before they had taken the war to Arthas, himself - again, there'd been no time to dwell on anything else. There were hordes of killer undead of all kinds, dragons... and more snow than she'd ever cared to see in her lifetime.

But then, she'd stepped down from the knights afterward - unwilling to fight in a pointless war against the Alliance - and had donned the Crusade's tabard. She'd 'retired' after having been barely old enough to serve as a soldier, initially - and what was left? Naivete, to be sure - she'd known little of life's harsh realities before war, and then... all she'd known was war - but war is not a school for everyday life.

No one wants to hear war stories from a pretty, young noblewoman, though. No one wants a virtuous young paladin around who rains on the parade. No one wants to hear how the need for more magic still crawls under your skin; how it's all you can think about. How no amount of drink, no amount of drugs (that you're willing to take), will quiet the burning need. And... who wants to talk about that kind of shame?

Look pretty, drink up, smile, have fun. Don't harsh their mellow.

So, she'd made the choice not to be a burden - she'd simply suffer the addiction quietly, as a noblewoman should. Everyone had been so happy with each other, and so busy building their lives - and the man they'd worked for had had issues of his own. Who was she, to burden the lot of them with her inability to cope with her own addiction?

Hindsight wasn't always so clear - should she have told them? Confided in someone? Most likely. Perhaps in dealing with the root of the issue, so many other issues never would have happened; perhaps in dealing with this one troublesome issue, they'd never have needed to help her with others. Maybe, even, Xannivard would never have tricked her into burning all those bridges, and becoming who and what she was now.

But with all that said - with all that behind her - Lilliana saw no reason to change now, however. Despite Eryth's worried looks...and more than one concerned talk with the drake, she'd concluded that... where she'd been trying to prepare herself to get clean, before? There was no point, now. After what that demon had put in her body? What was the point of temperance - why bother? He'd altered her beyond the scope of mortality. What sort of drugs were bad for a demon, after all? Or someone who was mostly one?

She'd considered, in the early days, the thought of trying to have herself cleansed...but why? There were no promises that it could even be done without killing her. And who would she be doing it for? She missed the Light, sure, she ached for it - but she loathed it, as well. When she'd needed it most... the Light hadn't been enough to spare her the things that haunted both nightmare and fantasy now, thanks to that gods-forsaken demon.

The more provocative the drug, the better, now. The stranger the concoction, the more enticing - why not? What - and who - could hurt her, now? She had the emotional and physical scars to show for her suffering - and so why shouldn't she chase the next-best-high? Few things could alter her state of mind all that much, for all that long, anyways...it was like eating and eating, and never really feeling full; perhaps it was only right that an addict should become a creature of unending hunger.

...But she had a daughter, now. That...that thought brought her back from the edge, some nights; that thought brought her back from Club Nathrezim, or her ship...hells, even when things had gone awry in the Shadowlands...the woman might have stayed there, if she hadn't had a daughter in the land of the living. She couldn't recapture what had been taken from her, couldn't undo her mistakes, couldn't apologize to people who mattered, or punch the ones who didn't - she couldn't change what she was, or what she'd done... but she could do her best not to make mistakes where this girl was concerned. She could practice temperance, even if only for a little while, if it meant time with Caitiri.

In her, there was hope that cut through the noise of the hunger. In her... there was innocence as yet unblemished. Untapped potential. This little girl could grow up and be happy, even... and there was nothing Lily wasn't ready to do, to make that a reality.

MiqoMarch 13: Magic

“Talking to Aeryn about magic theory is great cuz she’s been studying it her whole life even if she could barely cast a spell until after the Calamity and coming to Eorzea--isn’t that so weird but neat I wonder how that worked--but anyhow she’s great to bounce ideas off of and always acts so surprised by what I come up with which is great practice for assuring Mistress Thubrygeim that my new equations and experiments will totally work I mean it’s not like this is hard or anything it’s just really fun math!”

“Pearl I had to find you”

Tabby couldn’t be more excited to set out milk and cookies for Santa Claus, but first Jack has to stop eating all of them.

Modern AU, Tabby is eight years old.

Pairings: Jack/Specs

---

“Dad! The oven is beeping!” Tabby was excited to get the cookies out of the oven, but she wasn’t allowed to touch it because her dads thought she might hurt herself, so she settled for yelling until they came to do it, instead.

“Coming!” Specs came rushing into the kitchen. He slipped an oven mitt onto his hand, opened the oven door, and pulled out a tray of hot chocolate chip cookies. “Look, Tabby, these turned out really good, didn’t they?”

“They did!” Tabby really wanted one, but they were too hot, and she wanted to save as many as she could for a very special person. “Do you think Santa will like them?”

“Santa’s gonna love ‘em, kiddo,” Specs said. “Now let’s just give ‘em a few minutes to cool before we put them on a plate. How about you pour some milk?”

Tabby took the glass Specs had gotten down from the cabinet and put it on the counter before getting a carton of milk out of the fridge. She poured carefully so she wouldn’t spill anything. “Done!”

“Awesome.” Specs grabbed the full glass and set it next to the tray of cookies. He put a hand on Tabby’s shoulder and led her out of the kitchen. “We’ll put the cookies on a plate after we pick some Christmas music to get us in the spirit.”

“Okay!”

Once Tabby had settled on a playlist, she and Specs went back to the kitchen. 

“Hey, Dad?”

“What?”

“Weren’t there more cookies?” Tabby pointed to the tray, where three cookies were obviously missing. “Did Santa come early somehow? Maybe a pre-presenting-bringing snack?”

“I don’t think so,” Specs said. “I think that your other dad might be thieving some of Santa’s treats.”

“How do you know?”

Specs pointed. “There are a lot of crumbs on the floor -Jack was always a messy eater- and they’re leading right toward his studio. How ‘bout we go...catch him in the act?”

“Yeah!” It would also give Tabby the perfect opportunity to practice her sneaking. She and Specs crept down the hallway, and when Tabby peered around the corner into the studio, there was Jack, hard at work on a painting, a brush in one hand and a half-eaten cookie in the other.

“Gotcha, Daddy!” Tabby shouted. Jack jumped a mile, almost knocking his easel over.

“You sure did,” he said. “I got a little hungry, darlin’. Sorry about eating Santa’s cookies.”

“That’s okay, Daddy,” Tabby said, running forward and hugging Jack around the waist. Specs appeared in the doorway, having been right behind Tabby, and grinned at Jack.

“Just remember to leave some for Santa, babe,” he said.

“Were they good, Daddy? Me and Dad worked really on them.” Tabby looked up at Jack, and he smiled down at her and ruffled her hair.