Mattisaux Baschet

For FFXIVWrite2023 Character: Neoma Eltanin Warnings: None

Neoma was no stranger to insults. During her younger years growing up in the then still Garlean-occupied regions of Yanxia, the Garlean soldiers enjoyed calling Au Ra foul names like 'lizards' and the like. Even whe she first set foot in Eorzea she was given peculiar looks because of her scales and horns. But in time, it got better. People got used to seeing her kind roaming and settling in these lands. Now it had been long since she last encountered anyone troubled by what she was.

Well, until now.

“You are one in the same. Conniving, deceitful, patient. I will never trust one of you for as long as I breath so your 'help' means nothing to me, you foolish thing.”

'Scalekin'. She had never been called that before. It was a strange kind of insult to her, and one that felt unfair... But she also understood why it was given to her.

Many Ishgardians were unnerved about Au Ra, to say the least. It was little wonder; the scales and horns made then think of dragons. 'Scalekin'. It only stood to reason that their fears and uncertainty to view people that looked half dragon half man to them was fathomable, to a degree.

However, Mattisaux hated her very existence in a way she had never experienced before. Not compared to other Ishgardians, not even compared to the cruel treatment by the Garleans. She knew he would have hurt her long ago was he not bound by a delicate promise. A promise he had yet to break.

It was disappointing to her, that he refused to see reason. His hatred for dragonkind burned so deep it seemed to have scorched a pitch black hole in his heart, a hole that he kept feeding with his rage and thirst for their blood. A cycle of pain he relished.

Her words would not reach him. Her actions were invisible to him. He only saw what he convinced himself she could be, and nothing more.

A 'scalekin'.

He was stubborn, to say the least. But so was she. She knew he was wrong, as much as he refused to believe otherwise. She would not be so easily discouraged, no matter how many unpleasant things he called her or threats he would make.

Someday, she would prove him wrong.

-- day 28: love ✂️

fatima aamer bilal, from ‘being unwanted is a language’.

Prompt 5: Barbarous - FFXIV Write 2023

He is the dream.

Etched into the crease of your feverish brow. Your lips stain the air with his name. Beckoning him out.

The salt on your skin crusts his tongue. He smiles. A cruel scythe eager to corrupt you to begging. He carves himself into the shape of your bones. Dances you at the end of veins tangled around his hands.

Pray you’ll wake up. Pray you’ll never forget him. Pray that you will.

His love is a liar’s romance spat at your feet. He’ll tax you, strip you, break you apart into his toy. A sickness in your pores. You’ll bleed him. Need him.

And he’ll find you. Again and again, drag you down beneath him Sink his teeth into your flesh, claw his way into your soul. You are his wine. His endless urge. The poison in his veins.

The jailer has left the cell door open. He creeps back into you. Drags you on like an old coat.

auraugust, day 17: healer