steak's always the cantrip guy (ninja and paladin magic)

#steakposting

steak's relationship with his mother is oh so complicated but the important thing at the core is that she does love him dearly

she's not great at showing it, and it doesn't excuse the things she does. but she does love him, and that love is ultimately unconditional

#steakposting

steak throwing himself in front of j'ongho in order to protect her from zenos when not that long ago she was biting his arm as he tried to drag her off of baelsar's wall...

big brother steak... he'll never give up on you

#steakposting

Corpo Au thoughts

Steak makes a deal with the devil

#steakposting #steakzenos #steakgraha

Steak has definitely fucked this catboy that's standing next to the admiral at the end of hullbreaker isle (hard)

#steakposting

"Good boy" hits him in the "i cannot properly process my familial issues but god I wish someone would just call me that and mean it but i will settle for it in the bedroom" psychosexual *handwaves* whatever

Do not call him "good pet". Do not ever do this.

#steakposting

Paraklausithyron Vol 1: Compère.

Chapter 3: The Game is now on Ao3!

#steakposting #steakgraha #wolgraha #ffxivfic #ffxivwriters

here, have some g'raha post-nut panic you're welcome

#steakposting

hedgehog's dilemma

#steakposting

no (clearly lying)

#steakposting

sometimes the best way to right yourself spiritually is to get beat up by your dad

#steakposting

Not in the canon timeline.

He might in the 30 year dome AU, where he and Cahciua have their own child together - but would likely ask if Erenville has a preference. (At that point he would have known him as "Elene'shpya" longer than as "Erenville", time bubble and all that)

#steakposting

oh boy time to repost "Steak has an echo vision of the Crystal Exarch finding his corpse in the Ghimlyt Dark during the Eighth Calamity timeline"

#steakposting

Problematic Men and/or strong Women that are mean to him

#steakposting

embarrassed vs uhh... "flustered". respectively

#steakart #steakposting

He thought he was - until he really did die in the Praetorium.

There's still part of him that feels as if he's some kind of aberration for escaping the cycle. And he cannot run forever.

#steakposting

Blue could be either G'raha or Zenos depending on the context.

But Steak would always be grey.

#steakposting

zenos possessing steak's body to hunt g'raha tia for sport send post

#steakposting

I'm in the mines

#steakposting

He knows and has studied a few folk remedies and cures that have been handed down from his father. While his sister J'lloon is the expert, he's a dab hand at it himself.

#steakposting

Surprisingly: Mathematics, most likely with a bend towards accounting or economics

#steakposting

Satisfied, Steak made his way to the chest on the other side of the room. Just another crate full of plundered trinkets, befitting a seasoned adventurer. None would be the wiser to the origins of the gift stored within. He had been meaning to destroy it, or so he had convinced himself. Yet here it remained in his possession. Still unable to part with it, and now… He made his way to the small balcony off of his chambers. Just large enough for a small table for smoking and a couple of chairs. High up enough to be out of sight of any night owls down in the town proper. Steak gingerly set down a bottle and a flask upon the table, before unrolling the luxurious fur pelt he had taken with him. He buried his nose into it, inhaling deeply. It still smelled of the incense from that night. Still smelled of sweat, blood, and musk. He shuddered. It was the pelt of a giant Shadow Coeurl from deep within the jungles of Nangxia. Black as ink, but in the silver moonlight one could make out the pattern of the even darker rosettes that marked its fur. A rare, ferocious beast. What a mighty hunt that must have been; now the beastkin’s fur belonged to him. “A fitting trinket to mark our parting, do you not agree? The pelt of another bloodthirsty beast. Sharp of fang and claw both, much like yourself.” “Should I expect you to skin me as well? Will you mount me in the imperial palace, where you keep the rest of your prizes?” “And share you with the prying eyes of every tepid member of my family? I think not. No, I will keep you all to myself. My most darling prey, the trophy of my greatest hunt, mine and mine alone.”

Steak wrapped himself in the skin, the only thing now between his own bristling flesh and the cool night air of Mor Dhona. He took a seat, uncorking the bottle of dark rum he had taken outside with him. It burned on the way down his throat. He ran his hand through the fur, caressing it against his cheek, taking in its richness as he was consumed by thoughts of his enemy’s hungry teeth digging into his own flesh. “It fills you even now, doesn’t it? The hunger…” It did. It always did. The hunger. The desire… That desperate need to have his throat filled to the point of choking. The taste of salt on his lips: sweat, blood, seed; it did not matter. He needed to be hunted, to be won. A trophy strung up for his ceaseless hunter, to be used as he saw fit, a prize to be claimed. His heartbeat drumming in his ears as he fought tooth and nail. The battle high making his eyes wild as he tasted his own blood on the kiss of his captor. He wanted more, needed more… His breath quickened. Blood rushed to his cheeks, and he let his hand caress the length of his stomach; imagining the touch of another. Steak pushed his hand down past the hem of his smalls, stifling a whimper as his cold hand moved along his hardening shaft. Just a quick one. I need to get him out of my head. Just a quick one… “Zhett.” The voice made him nearly jump out of his skin. His tail thumped against the table so hard it rattled the bottles sitting there, a sound so loud he feared it would wake the entire fort. He yanked his hand out of his pants, clenching his thighs in an instinct to get blood flowing anywhere else. Still, his face was hot from embarrassment, and Steak was sure he must have turned a deep crimson. “G-G’raha…” He stammered, his shame turning his eyes away and down to the cobbles, “...I just needed a moment… I didn’t mean to wake you.” “This is the third night this week you’ve been woken by nightmares. Every time, you come out here. Every time, this same ritual of yours. I can’t pretend th

here's a old snippet of a drabble

steak thinking about zenos (and jorking it)

#steakposting #nsfw

Steak may appear to be a lamp but he really is more of a wounded birdie than he (or I) would like to admit

#steakposting

A good meal, good wine, and a good hot soak

#steakposting

A knight in shining, gold-trimmed armor. White of cloak with silver blade in hand. His eyes blazing like the sun.

He wears the hero's mantle, but his words are poison. He sends the innocent into the jaws of oblivion while he stands atop his pulpit, preaching sacrifice.

#steakposting

repression, denial, self-destruction, then eventually: grief

#steakposting

after the In From the Cold incident Steak has developed a fear of needles, scapels, and other chirugeon's instruments and ministrations but never talks about why

he just hopes nobody notices

#steakposting

if steak is ever in a "oh no which is the evil clone steak and which is the real steak??" situation i can confirm that the real steak will be the one who wants to fuck his clone

#steakposting

tip your local melee guy he's crying about his positionals again

#steakposting

Steak had had some etiquette lessons while he was in a previous line of work, so he was familiar with general courtesies but the level of what he had to navigate in Ishgard was something he found frustrating and suffocating.

#steakposting