#FFXIV fanfic

[stars-and-clouds]

You know what makes Aymeric and Haurchefant special?

Despite having every reason to be cold, vengeful, mean and selfish people-being bastards, living in a house they weren't born to, growing up in an environment as hostile as Ishgard, having inherent beliefs different to everyone around them- they still chose to be kind.

I think it takes something away from them if we assume they were simply born with a kinder deposition.

Haurchefant was bullied by all of Ishgard, including his step mother, for being a Greystone. Aymeric was adopted and has really low self esteem because he probably grew up hearing how ill deserving he is of everything he got by being adopted into house Borel. Yet they both made a conscious choice to be better. They wanted to treat others the way they wanted to be treated themselves. They wanted to love and invite change when Ishgard taught hate and stagnation.

This is why the warrior of light would've failed in doing everything they did if it wasn't for Haurchefant and Aymeric. How many warriors of light have tried helping Ishgard before us? Over hundreds of years of war, this revolution can't have been the only one. Yet it was during our lifetime that the stars aligned perfectly to have Haurchefant aid us and Aymeric lead us into changing Ishgard for the better and bring about peace.

Without Haurchefant, we'd have ended up in prison and possibly executed (he saves us again by taking a blow meant for us) and we wouldn't have been let into Ishgard. And without Aymeric's trust over his best friend he wouldn't have let us go to Dravania and afterwards, invite the reality shattering truth about his ancestors' actions and usher Ishgard to peace and unity.

Everyone hails the Warrior of Light as the antithesis to bad with absolute power. That, if they're there, everything is solved. But without Haurchefants and Aymerics, the Warrior of Light would be nothing and would not be able to solve half the problems they have solved.

[capriccio-ffxiv]

NSFW version of this poll (asking about other, ahem, anatomy) available here

[necromeowncy]

NEW chapter for Hunger - a WoL x G'raha Tia vampire AU: 'That Unwanted Animal'

Rated: Explicit

A chapter in which a social recluse of a vampire & an excitable historian go to town.

Read here:

[watanabes-cum-dump]

Hellbound: A Final Fantasy 14 AU

"Hellbound are we that sacrifice for what we love"

The sins of the Holy See run deep; and in the end repentance alone cannot save the Jewel of Coerthas from her darkest hour. Thusly, his holiness Archbishop Haldrath IV, formerly Father Aymeric de Borel, has enlisted the help of the Warrior of Light to aid Ishgard in its plight. The shadows cast by Eorzea's guiding star are deep and dark- but she will prevail like before, no Bloody Banquet will come between her and glory. For the Fury decrees that Ishgard shall be built upon the sin of those who rule it; and the blood of the innocent that believe.

Hellbound is a Final Fantasy XIV AU that is a dark alternate version of Heavensward in which Aymeric is archbishop, Haurchefant is a newly appointed knight of the Heavensward, and the Warrior of Light has many secrets to hide.

All art is by yours truly~

[hythlodaeus-mynewoldfriend]

Mayncient Day 23: Dearest

Get Along Without You

Had the first part in my wips for ages and had sudden inspiration for this day so here it is for you all! no warnings. word count 1.4k

They’re both lucky enough to have a full moon that casts enough light in the darkest parts of the city to allow them to walk in peace. Lucky enough that when they do finally come to a spot in the empty park there’s just enough shadow to allow for their masks to be removed.

Conner sits closer to the path, letting his height add protection to Elidibus’ identity despite it being well into the hours that any sane person would be in bed. Even with the white mask and black robes the Emissary still fears the potential backlash should he be found with Conner, a sentiment that he understands. Yet in this moonlit spot Conner can see the man relax as if they were behind closed doors, a smile playing on his lips as he watches Elidibus look up at the stars. “It’s quiet tonight,” he says, his white hair blowing gently in the small breeze, “something I wouldn’t expect of this place. Always noise. People, kids, and little animals during the day.”

“It's nice.” Conner inhales deeply, smiling and looking up at the sky also, “This has become my favorite time of day now.”

Elidibus frowns, “It used to be dawn.”

Conner shrugs, “It's still the early morning technically. Besides, a person’s favorite time of day can change or also just have multiple favorites.”

“Not with you Conner. You were-.”

“You’re not going to change my mind on being with you Elidibus,” he assures, “I know back then it felt like there were no consequences because it was just sex, but I still could have left when this became a lot more than that. I know what air we must put on when the white robes are on and we are at work keeping a little closer to the shadows, a small price to pay to have the times like this where you are better dressed for the shadows and yet do everything except stay in them.”

“If only we never had to in the first place. Do you not wish to be more open at work? Among friends?”

“I think in all cases there is a certain kind of secrecy when in a working environment out of professionalism so not much would change on that front really. As for friends, well,” Conner chuckles, shaking his head, “we already are, as they know not to ask too many questions. You remember how Hythlodaeus’ partner was when we happened to cross paths as the two were making their way home?”

The memory brings a small smile back to Elidibus’ face, “I do not believe I had ever seen Anthea more authoritative than in that moment.” He sighs, shoulders relaxing as he leans against Conner, fingers becoming entwined with his, “I just wish that I, as Themis, can be enough for you as Elidibus certainly cannot be.”

Conner tilts his head upward, caressing his jawline to let his hand become loosely entangled in the long white hair. He brings his lips down softly to his, the chill of the night air disappearing in an instant even as Conner pulls away just far enough to whisper, “It will never matter to me who you are. You are by my side right now and that is enough.”

It isn’t enough in this time of calamity when Elidibus recalls that moment as the skies darken and people flee below the earth. Things are going to plan as he can feel that starting fusion of worlds, of another piece of Zodiark stitched by his brethren, and of the decimation of a world he never cared to know. He stopped trying to get to know the people of those broken worlds after they were successful in rejoining the first piece to Him. What was the point when they weren’t supposed to exist to begin with? He’d stick to those that would become whole once again.

It was a third attempt to see if there was something more to it all, if The Shepherd on the moon was right to have abandoned them all those years ago like Emet-Selch had said. Three attempts and this would be the last. He can already see how this one ends, can already feel the slow crawl of grief that’s never sat nicely since the world he knew fell apart, can see this version doing what Elidibus can only assume happened the first time. 

These people don’t have magic yet that doesn’t stop this incarnation of Conner weaving through destruction getting as many as he can underground. He’s had several close calls with the smoke engulfing him and lightning starting to rain down and still it does not deter the man….and each time it causes a panic to rise in Elidibus briefly. Each time he wonders if this will be the moment he witnesses the death of his dearest and so he intervenes in ways imperceptible to those of this era. His brethren would scoff at the intervention, and he can’t blame them, this is only one man and what was a single man compared to the many they were working on bringing back? The preservation of this one man is not worth the whole of the star. 

Yet how would they know that this one man, his soul on its first journey in this new world, was the only reasoning he could find to let them continue with what they were doing. That maybe, just maybe, he could have the power to bring him back, get back that little piece of his heart that was given in exchange for the hopes of many. To see those blue eyes framed by ebony hair once again, to hear his laughter when they tried to dance and Elidibus couldn’t help but try to take the lead which had their legs tangled as they fell to the ground, to feel his own heart race when their eyes would meet in the Convocation building knowing what could come next. To experience the smell of the various herbs and plants he kept just for the joy of it once more, and to taste the cool moonlight on Conner’s lips as the sun rose to remind them of duty that always won. This one man was a reminder of what he sacrificed…. 

And what a mistake it was to have indulged in this fantasy.

Their time together was bliss. The way they met almost like the first time, but it wasn’t uncertainty about his new appointment that kept him silent, but the instant recognition of his eyes among features that were nothing like Conner. Elidibus didn’t need to check the color of his soul to know it was him, though he did anyway, it was enough to have those soulful eyes look at him once more. Enough to bring him back to this incarnation and strike up conversation after conversation in an openness Elidibus hadn’t known when the world was whole. To create a fleeting life within that freedom and to fall once more for someone that was a close approximation to the man he lost. Yet fleeting is all this ever was, even if he was to live to be old and grey a few decades is nothing in the centuries Elidibus has lived. He knows this and still it hurts. Still it hurts to see them all leave in ways that feel unnatural, after centuries of witnessing and being the cause of millions of deaths he still cannot stop the torturous pain from enveloping him. He wants to be free of this cycle….

So this will be the last time he lives among them. The last time he will go searching for those he once knew. The last time he will let himself be distracted by the doubts that plague his mind. The last time he will let himself recall or create memories to hold onto. After this Calamity he will once again put duty above all else. 

But first he will get this incarnation of Conner to the fleeting safety of the ground. Will stay with him for the last two months he has before returning to the sea to begin once again. Will hold him during his last breaths and mourn with the others before disappearing into the shadows, where he will stay dressed in white to perform his duty like he did so long ago. All the while holding onto the fact that he for just a moment had Conner right by his side….

….and it wasn’t enough….

[aethernoise]

2. bark

This prompt reminded me to return to a very old WIP idea that I will likely never finish. It may simply be the fic equivalent of writing an angry letter and never sending it - self-care, if anything, in face of grave injustices.

Set in 5.2, inspired by the opening quests of the Sorrows of Werlyt. CW for mild violence.

•

She wanted to spit in his face, but her mouth was dry from anger.

"I don't give a shit about your regrets," she hissed, "They mean nothing to me. They mean nothing to the millions of innocent lives you've taken and the millions more you have ruined forever."

Gaius' face remained stony in the dim light.

"You needn’t list my sins, I know them all full well," he said. "I would never attempt to request your forgiveness, only cooperation--”

"Here is my cooperation, Baelsar," she cut him off. "You are alive at this moment because I will it.”

The corner of his mouth twisted ruefully.

“You would kill an unarmed man in cold blood? It seems we are both a far cry from our former selves.”

“Shut up.” 

"Do it, then, if you must. Say the words, Defender of Eorzea. Prove you're not all bark and no bite. Even if you paint the Royal Palace red with my blood, it will do nothing to stop what is coming."

There was a loud crack and a flash. Gaius grunted and slumped onto the floor. The aether was so loud in Alyx’s ears, she didn’t hear Raubahn’s voice booming down the hall.

“Alyx!”

There was a small singe on the front of Gaius’ coat, leaking a faint smell of burned leather. She remained transfixed on the mark while his chest slowly rose and fell.

“Alyx! Seven hells, what have you done?”

“He’s fine,” she said flatly.

“I cannot say he didn’t have it coming,” Raubahn said with the hint of a chuckle, and Alyx almost gave herself neck strain with the speed she turned to look up at him.

“Nothing compared to what he deserves. He doesn’t even deserve to be here, walking free in our home--” Her fingers clenched, shoulders squared against trembling with anger. “Raubahn, how could you?”

“Do you think I want him here?” His voice was hushed, his enormous shadow tense, black eyes flashing with ferocity. “Do you truly think I welcomed him as a friend with open arms?!”

Alyx had the dim awareness that anyone sane would be completely terrified to be rounded upon by General Aldynn in such a manner, but another awareness reminded her that she could knock him on his arse too if she had to.  

“How am I supposed to know? You certainly looked chummy enough,” she spat, “Standing there next to him like a gods damned diplomat, like he wasn’t the one responsible fo--”

His giant, calloused hand seized her arm. The hold was not ungentle, but the sheer weight of him rooted her to the spot. 

“And what would you have me do?” His voice had lowered to a rumbling growl like an earthquake. “Execute him on sight? Drag him through the streets? He came to us in peace, and with information vital to our survival--”

“And you trusted him!” 

“We have no reason not to.”

“My gods, do you even hear yourself?!”

“We have no choice. I have no choice.” Alyx opened her mouth to disagree, but he continued: “I will not put our borders at further risk out of pride. I cannot afford to refuse help, even from the most hated of sources. If Ala Mhigo is to survive--if Eorzea is to survive--it cannot depend only on you forever, Alyx.”

Her heart hammered in her ears, but she had no rebuttal. The General went on:

"Someday, Rhalgr forbid, you might not be here. What if something were to happen to you? What would become of us? I know full well what you're capable of, but I know you cannot be everywhere at once."

A soft groan from below - Gaius was waking up. As soon as Raubahn's grip slackened enough, Alyx pulled her arm free. 

"Fine. Do what you will." Her voice was low, robbed of much of its former power. "But please, do not ask me to work with him."

Alyx didn't wait for confirmation. Instead she turned to leave before she could regret anything more.

[thevikingwoman]

Meryta struggles with her fears, feelings, and putting words on paper.

Fandom: FFXIV | Words: 1553 | Read on Ao3

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

Meryta Khatin x Tansui | after The Key to The Castle | romance Rating: Teen. Letter writing, longing, fear of death, fear of change, Alisaie friendship, dealing or not dealing with feelings

Letters and Longing, part 1

Meryta’s pen hovers over the parchment, frustration marring her face. The pen is frozen as she thinks, ink dripping on the page. She groans and puts the pen back in the inkwell, carefully mopping up the extra ink on the page. At least it didn’t ruin what she’d already written. The letter is a mess anyway, but she can’t fathom rewriting it, little as it is. It’s hard enough already. Not only are the words hard to come by, but the act of writing itself – the echo might grant her ability to speak and understand any language, but it doesn’t confer any scholarly skills, including letter writing.

After they returned from Dohn Mheg with the shell crown, a silent thanks to Soroban and the Kojin, she’d decided it was time to write a letter. Urianger had been pleased enough to supply the pen and parchment when she asked, his golden eyes kind. She is glad to see them. At any other time, her attention would have been drawn by how handsome he is, free of whatever caused him to hide before. But all she can think of is warm brown eyes and a dark beard, her thoughts returning to the Ruby Seas and to Tansui.

She wants to tell him – something.

They’ve been rushing, ever since they ran from Ran’jit in Lakeland. She’s not afraid of him, not the way she’s afraid of the Lightwarden, but to deal with Ran’jit she has to fight another Lightwarden.

She’d have to fight it anyway, or so the Exarch says. She’s afraid, and she’s not used to it. Not that she hasn’t been afraid before, but it’s been the good kind of fear. The fear that keeps on your toes, harnessed into a razor edge for the coming battle. Fear that makes you throw yourself into combat, teeth bared. No, now she’s filled with dread. She doesn’t want to fight the Lightwarden. She doesn’t want to see the sin eaters, the ones arisen from people lost. She doesn’t want to absorb the aether from the Warden, the Light overwhelming and itching beneath her skin.

The castle looms above the lake, glittering and beautiful and unreal. 

Soon enough, they’ll rush away to find the last two artifacts, and with the post moogle improbably spinning in humming circles in Lydha Lran. It probably gets on splendidly with the faeries. She decided to write and send a letter while she still could.

She worries – she worries she’ll not survive, or change – or unable to stop or go to the Source. And when she left Tansui last, she... Well, she doesn’t want him to think she forgot about him, or that she doesn’t want to come back. Or she wants to thank him. Or tell him…

She groans again.

If you do not see me again, it is not for lack of trying.

That doesn’t quite encompass all she wants to say, and it’s not quite the right way to say it. So far, all she’s said is that she is alive and well, for now, and they’re trying to end another Lightwarden. She should perhaps tell that she’s with her friends, that they are hale and well – but it’s too complicated, too long winded, and besides he’s met neither Urianger nor Thancred. Yet it’s strange not to mention them.

I’m with more of the scions, my friends. I do wish to visit again, but if I don’t --

She tries again, mulling over the sentences in her mind. How does one spell scion anyway? If the Lightwarden doesn’t defeat her and the Light doesn’t – change her – will Ran’jit catch up with them? Will the faeries trap them here forever, chasing their artifacts? She wants to explain and to write a proper letter – but it’s a jumbled mess along with her thoughts.

“Hello, Meryta.” Alisaie, pulling out a stool and sitting across from her. “I thought you had already left.”

“I wanted to write this letter, but – words are eluding me.”

“A letter? For whom?”

“It’s not important.”

“It’s important enough that you’ve not yet left.”

Alisaie leans over, attempting to read it upside down. Meryta wants to cover it up, but it’s messy enough and she’s unsure if the ink is dry and she won’t ruin it more. She’s certain Alisaie has beautiful handwriting, like her brother.

“Tansui? The pirate?”

The embarrassment over her handwriting is not the only reason she wants to hide it.

“He’s a friend.” She feels like she should add something, but afraid it will come out defensively.

“Sure,” Alisaie says, interrupting her thoughts. “A friend happy to extort money from us, I guess.” She narrows her eyes. “But mayhap that’s not quite what you think of.”

She fights the instinct to hide, she can’t truly explain what he is, not fully. It’s not the times they’ve fucked, but the way he held her, last time she was there. How that makes her want to go to him again. How, despite her happiness to see her friends again, and her sympathy for the plight of the people here, all she wants is to rest in his arms again.

“I’ve visited and I –“ she stops, and freezes. Another thing she doesn’t want is to worry Alisaie, how her need to write is bound up with her fear that she’ll not be successful in the next fight. That whatever they do will not work, that the Light may consume her. She thinks of the other things she wants to tell him too, words of both affection and practicality stuck in her head.

“Feo Ul said he’d get the letters to the Source somehow,” she explains, backing up. “I want to tell him – at least to be aware of Black Rose and of the things Urianger saw in his vision. Be I’m not used to writing letters, and –“

Alisaie’s eyes soften, any judgement leaving them. “Mayhap I can help?”

She has never found it difficult to talk to Alisaie, and she shouldn’t find it so now. She’s not embarrassed, she’s perhaps just reluctant to both name her fears to those who depend on her, and to admit she ran from them. Or that – it would be easier to share if she understood her thoughts herself. She longs for the simplicity in visiting Tansu and the Confederacy, and that peace feels private.

“I would be glad.”

With her friend’s help she manages to compose something sensible, and not too long. Simply asking him, and the Confederacy, to be careful with any run-ins with Garleans and their cargo. She also tells a little of what has come to pass for her here on the First. She thinks he might find the faeries amusing, as long as he’s not on the receiving end of their shenanigans. A kinship of making people pay for their trespasses, perhaps.

“I miss him,” she blurs out at the end, wanting to add that too, needing to voice it despite her confusion. Her mind circles back to the notion that should she die or be unable to travel, would he know? That he should know he’s not forgotten, but that he means… something to her.

“You should tell,” Alisaie says. “I am not sure I’d name the Confederacy a steadfast ally, but – regrets can come too soon.” There’s something painful in the other woman’s eyes, the raw hurt unhidden.

“I’m sorry,” Meryta says. “If we’d been faster, if we’d – “

“She did what she had to do. It’s no need – it’s over now.” Alisaie shakes her head. “Please. I just – see to your letter. Mayhap I shall take my leave and trust you can write the rest without out my help. I surmise you’d rather it be so. And I think I’ve left my dear brother alone with the fairies a tad longer than he finds amusing.”

“Thank you, Alisaie.”

“Of course, my friend. Good luck with the artifacts. We will keep the Eulmorians busy.”

Meryta watches Alisaie leave, confident steps, her rapier ever ready. Meryta has no doubt about hers, and Alphinaud’s, capabilities. They will keep their pursuers at bay.

She does manage the rest of the letter, trying to shape her feelings into words, her mind occupied with the memory of brown eyes and calloused hands, and marks sucked into her flesh.

Tansui, I do not know if I will win this fight. I do not know if it will change me. I miss you. I wish to see you again. I hope to see you again if can. If I cannot know that I tried.

I would like to eat breakfast with you again. I long for it.

Satisfied, she seals the letter. At least he will know she did not abandon him, should her end come. The risk is always there, but somehow here, it feels closer than ever. Meryta shakes her head, and looks at the flowers in the blinding light. Her thoughts spin in circles.

Feo Ul and the post moogle is more than happy to accept her letter, exorbitant fee agreed on. One less thing to regret.

She doesn’t want to die. The castle on its high peak, pretty and bright. Most of all, she doesn’t want to absorb the Light of a second Lightwarden, a third, a fourth – how many are there?

She has no choice but to set out.

[buoyfriend]

The WoL Catches A Cold *a-choo* - feat. The Ishgard Elf Husbands, G'raha Tia, Ardbert, Hien & Zenos

@eidechsejaspis asked:

Hello again:)

As new season of coughs ans sneezes approaches I have a question of how would Scions (choose any you like), Aymeric and Zenos (where would we go without him?) react on WoL catching serious cold? Time period is at your liking from Heavenward to adventures in Garlemald:)

Thank you in advance:)

It is sniffles season again! Thank you for asking, this was a really fun one to get back into HC writing with!

Aymeric

In moments you think he's not watching, he is. He adores the way you wince when reading an unpleasant part of a book, how you fidget in Alliance meetings, even the little whistle of your snore. Aymeric notices your first sneeze. It's hard to get allergies in Coerthas, and he recognizes the hacking from your lungs a few days later. This comes for everyone sooner or later, and politely asks you to quarantine yourself for a few days.

He isn't one to miss work to care for a sick partner or spouse but has a very attentive nurse stationed nearby

He has given his full itinerary for the next several days so he can be alerted as soon as you wake up from a much needed, multi-day sleep

Aymeric wouldn't argue that he knows cooking well, but he does make a point to assist in the kitchen after work to make sure that you have soup recommended by the best chirugeon available

He will dodge kisses from you for days to avoid becoming sick himself, but it's too late anyways

When Aymeric finds himself bedridden for a few days, he decides that it was worthwhile to give you that forehead kiss as you slept

Estinien

Estinien is familiar with sickness. Long campaigns through the newly snowy Coerthas as a young knight taught him much of seasonal illnesses. He's seen many a friend drink their weight in bitter root soups, gnaw on wild herbs, and the like to push through it until they can get home. He's seen you sick before. Still, he has some lingering anxiety. You looked far worse than a little aetheryte sickness. He's lost much and more, the thought nags at him that more concern might be warranted.

Estinien has his hands full with travel these days and assures you that he will indeed make it to tea with Vritra tomorrow afternoon

He does not make it to tea with Vritra

Estinien deftly slips into the bedroom but there was no need, you had been out cold for hours by then

He would like to keep his friend from waiting, but not until he's sure that your breathing is steady and your temperature not too high

What a sight to see! Had you been awake, you might have heard Estinien's dress shoes pacing along the floor, his hand nearly to his linkpearl while paralyzed by indecision on whether to cancel or not

He cautiously leaves a glass of water and your linkpearl on the bedside table, just in case, though he may never admit that it was he who placed both there

When he does return home, perhaps an hour earlier than expected, he denies all concern as he settles into bed beside you

Haurchefant

While he's not a sadist, Haurchefant absolutely loves the sight of you ill. You're always off somewhere, but for this small bubble of time, you're here. You're sipping hot chocolate and letting him read poetry to you rather than mailing it off to some distant locale. He can watch your tired face grin and sigh rather than imagining it alone from Camp Dragonhead.

His favorite thing to make for you, of course. Hot chocolate, every day you're sick. No matter how hard it is to get chocolate in Coerthas, no matter how many tall tales he must tell to provision it, you wake up to hot chocolate beside your bed every morning.

"You don't need caffeine, anyways, you need something calming and a smile."

He knows he'll get sick if he sleeps next to you every night, but he's forewarned Camp Dragonhead. Emmanellain can hold his seat for a fortnight, it could be good practice for him.

Haurchefant watches you sleep, sliding his hand under the covers to grasp yours. For once, the cuts and bruises all over you are starting to heal. Days off the road, finally given rest. He wishes you both had more days like this.

G'raha Tia

Just as your new adventures together have begun, you fail to keep up. You run a little slower, stopping after a few paces to lean into a cough, heavy sneezes punctuating the blows you attempt to land on monsters. G'raha is quick to notice but slow to bring it up.

He frets, wringing his hands beside you as you ready yourself for the day, struggling to put on your clothes. As you sigh in failure, dropping yourself onto the bed, G'raha can't help himself.

"You can admit you're sick. I know you've been on the road for a long time. Even with the help of your friends, the path you walk is a lonely one. But you're not alone this time. Let yourself rest and let me take care of the other things that come along?"

G'raha fields the many requests sent your way, trying his best to fulfill them, wondering how you do it all at full health.

In quieter moments, he finds his way to The Last Stand to get your favorite dinner, absolutely purring as he watches your sleepy smile. Alas, your sense of smell is back! You knew exactly what he'd brought you as soon as he opened the bag!

He can't help but laugh to himself as you find yourself exhausted from the walk from your bed to the dining table, cracking jokes about his hero losing the greatest battle thus far.

G'raha's excitement knows no bounds when you announce that you're well enough to continue your travels together. The ruddy cheeks, the soft ear wiggle. No sickness can stop his hero for long.

Ardbert

(Assuming Ardbert is no longer a ghost!)

Ardbert is restless. He hasn't seen an open field, a forest, an ocean in days. He wonders if it's unsupportive to ask if you'd mind if he pops out for a fishing trip tomorrow. Perhaps if you're a little better in the morning?

He's not heartless, he left some hot tea beside your bed and made sure your medicines were in reach.

Though he did have some guilt by the third hour of his fishing adventure. The pangs of guilt grew until an idea sprouted from them.

He racked his mind as he navigated the markets. He had enough fish, but the right peppers...which peppers were correct. Tomatoes. Cream. Potatoes. Something was missing, some spice.

Ardbert has made a mess of things. He has put out the kitchen fire, somehow there are no more clean pots and pans. Yet, the soup is complete! It was his mother's recipe, it always had him right as rain after a day or so.

Though you tried your best to hold a straight face, the soup was...I don't know if it's fair to call it a soup. He looks absolutely crushed.

You fall asleep while he strokes your hair, his head pressed against yours as he told you stories. About Kholusia, fishing for cod with his father, his mother's miracle soup. He asks what they made where you're from, but it's too late. You've already drifted off, dreaming about magic fish.

Oddly enough, from a couple of sips of Ardbert's attempted soup, you feel some measure better. He, on the other hand, has the same horrible wheezing cough you had a day before.

Hien

Hien is not the biggest believer in staying bedridden in a sealed room while sick. He frowns, hating to see you suffer, but a thought springs to mind as he twirls your lank, sweaty hair between his fingers.

The clean air of the Azim Steppe is just as promised. During the day, he haggles in the markets for the best Dzo to make stews, the best leaves to make tea. All while you watch the clouds pass from the hammock outside of your yurt.

It's hard to leave the hammock, not only for the comfort. Where else could you see so many stars? Hien points to his favorites, the brightest, the funniest shapes some constellations make.

There wasn't much for entertainment, but watching Hien in the distance sparring with friends was a welcome sight.

After a few days, he encourages you to come with him. On a little walk, at least. Another day, just a little spar. How do you know you're well if you don't test your skills?

The break from all the noise, the responsibilities, becomes intoxicating to you after some time. Hien never has to rush to some meeting, you never need to leave to be flung at a new problem.

You've been better for a week now, finding yourself testing your sharpness with Hien and his friends every morning. Though you may have been hesitant to travel while sick, the time spent together was precious. Perhaps next time you won't have to be sick to convince yourself to take a break.

Zenos

He's seen you weakened before, brought to your knees by your own frailty. It disappoints him and yet, he's fascinated by it in a way he doesn't quite understand. How could someone so pitiful occupy every hour of his day?

Zenos doesn't agree with the chirugeon, you could power through this with sheer force of will and merely shrugs as the medicines are set on the table.

This could not be what ends the object of his obsession, his first friend. He regularly checks that you're still breathing. He leans in too close to hear that your heart is still beating, only to be rewarded by a wheezing cough into his hair.

His size is quite the advantage, it's not a challenge for him to carry you from place to place. He leans low to the ground, scooping you up as the sight of you exhausted from standing up only leaves him with disgust.

Still, when you fall asleep each night, he leans his head to your chest. Your heart still beats, your skin glittering with sweat. He knew he would see you like this on another day, performing the great feats that brought him to you in the first place. Though he never understood your reasons, he knew you'd be back to fighting the mesmerizing fights that led the two of you here. To share a bed, a home, a life.

[lilbittymonster]

Chapters: 2/2 Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Aymeric de Borel & Estinien Wyrmblood, Warrior of Light & Estinien Wyrmblood Characters: Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Aymeric de Borel, Estinien Wyrmblood, Alphinaud Leveilleur, Haurchefant Greystone, Lucia goe Junius, Thancred Waters, Y'shtola Rhul, Yda Hext, Papalymo Totolymo, Heustienne de Vimaroix Additional Tags: Named Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Au Ra Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Dragoon Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Gratuitous use of cutscene dialogue, Post-Final Fantasy XIV: A Realm Reborn Patches 2.0 - 2.5 Series: Part 3 of Of Blades and Blood Summary:

“You know I am not given to empty praise–I named her my equal, and I meant it as such. Though she has yet to see battle with a fully grown dragon, I have no doubts in her capabilities. I….look forward to fighting alongside her, rather than against.”

 Sometimes you have to swallow your pride and play nice with the person who tried to kill you that one time six months ago.

[stars-and-clouds]

All of Coerthas Map (pre-calamity)

I was using this as a reference in my fanfic for Estinien’s backstory and thought it might help others too!

The picture is from this blog page. It is not mine. The blog also has some 1.0 information that might be useful for some writers.

Edit:

Map is originally by: @chrysalisthoughts

[alfonce-astrida]

On Hope and Family

A character study of Artoirel during Heavensward

If you had told Artoirel de Fortemps that one day the Warrior of Light would be his sibling, one of his closest most trusted companions he would have hesitated to believe you.

It's not that he didn't believe Haurchefant when Fortemps Manor received his first letter all but begging for you to be allowed access to Ishgard, when he'd called you "hope incarnate". Its just that, well, Haurchefant always has been a touch dramatic, has always worn his heart so openly, always given it so freely. A trait that Artoirel has always been somewhat envious of, if he was being honest with himself.

And then you arrived and you were... not what Artoirel was expecting. He remembered briefly reading of the events that led to your arrival, being publicly accused of murder, running for your life, how many allies lost. Perhaps that explained the subtle hollowness to your eyes, the way you seemed to only really half smile, the way you clung to Haurchefant's side. For a god slayer you looked... tired.

This is part of why, Artoirel tells himself, he is so displeased at being forced to work alongside you. That and Artoirel is a knight of Ishgard, does his father really think him incapable of aiding the efforts at Falcon's Nest alone? But he did see the way your eyes seemed to light up at being given a role, a purpose, even one so temporary. So he didn't complain. Much.

Whilst in Falcon's Nest, the two of you find a knight injured by heretics. He feels a pang of guilt sending you off on the dangerous task of finding the heretics while he collects reinforcements, but you do not hesitate. You have always been happy doing the hard tasks, the dangerous ones, if you do them alone then no one else can get hurt. Artoirel watches you go and perhaps he is beginning to understand why Haurchefant called you hope.

He finds you later, having single handedly fought through the heretics, though their leader, Lady Iceheart escaped. You offer him a smile, and he finds himself smiling back.

Artoirel learns later of your efforts to rescue his brother from his own foolishness. Though of course, people were generally more focused on the new primal, he did not miss Honoroit's story of how you threw yourself into enemy territory alone to protect Emmanellain. Casually, he mentions this thought to Haurchefant who just smiles and nods as he looks over at you from across the room.

Unfortunately, this moment of peace is quickly broken by the news of Alphinaud and Tataru's arrest. The events that unfolded were nothing more than contained chaos, but Artoirel saw once more how willing you are to protect others, how selfless you are, and how you were, above all else, kind. So very kind. Haurchefant was of course there to celebrate your victory.

It is now that Artoirel begins to open himself to you. You care so deeply, perhaps not at openly as Haurchefant, but just as honestly. In the time you spend in Ishgard, staying in the Fortemps Manor, you slowly but surely begin to feel like family. He sees how you laugh and joke with Emmanellain, how you always make sure Honoroit knows he is seen, how tightly you hug Haurchefant after you haven't seen him in a while. How you spend time with him, talking softly, listening genuinely, how you don't care for the expectations of Isghard high society, how you don't judge that he does. And when you leave for Dravania with Estinien and Alphinaud, on some mission you cannot tell him of, Artoirel finds himself praying to the Fury for your safe return.

You come home as often as duty permits. Staying for a few days after reaching a brick wall (or barrier) before being whisked away to Ul’dah. And then you're home again only briefly before you make the journey to slay Nidhogg. Strange, when did Artoirel start to call Fortemps Manor your home? He worries for you each time you are gone, and is so very relieved when you return safely, but he trusts your skill. He knows you will be fine.

When you leave to fight Nidhogg it's different. You leave with Estinien alone. On a task none know if you will survive. Though Artoirel worries for you greatly, Haurchefant and Alphinaud are beside themselves. In your absence, Artoirel offers what comfort he can, words of praise to your skill, your past triumphs, you have slain gods so what is a dragon? You and Estinien are among the greatest warriors of our age. You will make it, you will win and you will be fine. Safe. Artoirel does his hardest to believe in the words he says.

And then the Dravanians attack. If your duel with the Heavens' Ward had been contained chaos, well then your return to Ishgard was pure unadulterated chaos. Artoirel later learns that you returned to the city with Lady Iceheart in tow, how you ran into Haurchefant on the way, and how the lady turned the invaders away. She spoke of a lie. A lie the very city of Ishgard had been built upon. It would have been too much to believe if any but you had spoke it. You would not say something like this if it had any risk of being wrong. He trusts you. And so does Ser Aymeric.

It is this trust, and the desire to do good, that leads Ser Aymeric to be arrested. That leads you and your allies to fight your way through the vault to rescue him, to stop the ArchBishop.

Artoirel is not there when Haurchefant gives himself for you. When he lies dying in Ser Aymeric's arms. When he asks to see you smile one last time. When his bright light flickers and goes out.

Artoirel is there though when you return to the manor after, your voice shaking, tears in your eyes, trying so hard to be strong. In the quiet moments in between you sit close to one another. You, Artoirel, Emmanellain, Honoroit, you all sit in silence pressed against each other as tears fall and bodies shake with echoing sobs. There are no words to be said. No words of comfort to give. You all know what you have lost.

He watches you leave the next morning, a terrible grief and a terrible rage within your eyes. He understands. He feels it too. He just prays that you do not lose yourself to it. That you come home safe. Artoirel does not know if he could take the loss of another sibling.

When you leave once more, to stop the ArchBishop, to take revenge upon Ser Zephirin, Artoirel watches you go. He watches long after the Excelsior has disappeared into the clouded sky. He prays once more.

"Please let them come home. Please."

You do. Thank the fury, you do. But Estinien does not return with you.

Still though, there is hope. You are safe and the moment you are alone with Artoirel he pulls you into the first hug he has ever given you. You wrap your arms around him in return. The both of you holding each other tightly, there is no need for either of you to speak. You both understand. He may not ask you in as many words to be your sibling, but you both know it to be true. You have both loved and lost, you would both do anything to protect that which you love. You are family.

You stand together with the Fortemps, a signet ring heavy on your finger, as Ishgard rejoins the Eorzean Alliance. As Ser Aymeric smiles at you, Artoirel's mind returns to the words Haurchefant once wrote.

"Hope Incarnate."

Artoirel turns his face to the sky allowing himself a small smile. "You were right, Haurchefant. You would be proud."

[necromeowncy]

"𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘉𝘪𝘵𝘦" 🥀

Working on my Vampire AU fic every day for the past few weeks and I need to scream about these brainworms.

[ubejamjar]

This in response to @uldahstreetrat ‘s ‘what would be your wol/oc's perfect date?’ post. I wrote a whole thing and I didn’t want to just throw it under a reblog (I’ll still reblog the post, don’t you worry!)

Caution: This vignette is 100% indulgent, day-dreamy, wolmeric, marshmallow fluff. It’s so sweet it makes my teeth hurt.

[Original Post Here]

The Perfect Date

Aymeric and Ajisai would meet for tea and sweets at the café hidden in an alleyway. It’s a small building; its windows open up to the Sea of Clouds and it’s like being lost in the sky. It is perfect because the owner, Nata’li, knows of the Warrior of Light and the Lord Commander, but he has never seen their faces, so here, they are simply Aymeric and Ajisai.

They’ll sit at a little table by the window, a cracked blue cup filled with Halone Gerbera at its center. The flowers’ soft, white petals open wide to cheery, yellow centers that beam at them like old friends. Aymeric will tell her the story of how they came to be known as the ‘Fury’s favored flower’ as he pulls out a chair for her. He’ll laugh when she pulls out his chair with theatrical flair.

Nata'li will bring them a pot of tea; it’s a Far Eastern blend—a black tea, slightly smoky, with a citrusy edge. Ajisai likes it best with steamed milk and a bit of vanilla; Aymeric will add a few drops of birch syrup. They’ll take their tea with lavender shortbreads, sweet crumbs clinging to their fingers as they chat about nothing and everything all at once.

When their teacups are emptied and the shortbreads are long gone, they’ll linger as if ignoring time will preserve this dream in amber. They’ll trade little pieces of themselves in stories and laughter until Nata’li shoos them out.

“I open in the morning,” the Miqo'te will say with exasperated affection, “Go, be in love elsewhere and tomorrow I welcome you back, hm?”

But they won’t want the night to end, so they’ll stretch it out a bit longer, take the long way back to Ajisai’s little house. When they get there, she’ll open the door and ask if he’d like to come in for a moment, just to warm up before heading home. Aymeric will, because he always does, and they both know he’ll stay the night.

Ajisai’s home always smells of cinnamon sticks and evergreen, like a kitchen at Starlight. Books, notes, and sketches crowd every available surface, a trail of daydreams and research captured in charcoal and ink. They’ll both drink wine—too much wine.

Aymeric will carefully move her papers and books out of harm’s way. Then, he’ll ask her to dance, insistent even when she complains she doesn’t know how. When her eyes find his, gold lost in blue, he smiles, and she crumbles.

So they dance.

It’ll start with a simple waltz, a gentle, fairytale thing that sways to a song they feel rather than hear. It’ll end with the two of them holding each other close, spinning, and giggling until they’re too dizzy to keep going.

Then they’ll lay on the plush rug in her living room, fingers intertwined. Dreams will be traded between them like secrets—glimpses of a future they’re not sure belongs to them. It’s full of things like sleepy mornings wrapped in each other’s arms, handholding in the sunshine without fear of reproach, and the comfort of knowing their hearts’ home.

It’s so wonderful, so tangible they’ll start to think of how they could make it so. However, before either of them will find an idea, they’ll drift into spiced wine sleep, warm and content in a present that is already theirs.

[teawithaphd]

Hiya, I’m looking for some ffxiv moots!

I’m a humble writer who started writing ffxiv fics on AO3, but I wanted to expand my horizons so I made myself a blog here, where I can post my writings, post some silly headcanons, and show off my wols sometimes 🥺👉👈

I’d love to make some mutuals on here, so like/reblog and drop in the comments a cool pic of your wols/ocs with a fun fact about them! I’ll be sure to follow you back! uwu

[ferrocyan]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Lue-Reeq/Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV) Characters: Lue-Reeq (Final Fantasy XIV), Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Renda-Rae | Andreia Additional Tags: POV Alternating, Canon Divergence Series: Part 3 of lighthunter Summary:

The hunt is on. Out of time and out of compassion, the hunters set their sights on the Virtue--and find each other in the line of fire. (A rewrite of the level 76 DPS role quest "The Hunter's Legacy")

[neneru-nowhere]

Lalapril Day 4: Coast

The Undsatzr stopped at Costa Del Sol to drop off precious cargo and acquire yet more from Wineport. Captain Trachynwyda encouraged Neneru to spend a day taking in sun and surf at the famed resort settlement.