#ardbert x wol

[ageha-sds]

a couple months ago in august, i helped out with Tiffany Lockheart in making companion images for her Ardbert Week on twitter. i was looking to do it for all the days but i was actively stopped actually from two more - nonetheless i wanted to compile for tumblr what all i worked on! these were all made in the span of the week that Ardbert Week was going on.

[alannah-corvaine]

i love you, i love you, i love you, i do. i loved you before i even knew you.

[wolbertweek]

WolBert Week 2023 is Coming!

Hello friends and fellow Ardbert enjoyers!

I've seen many wolship weeks come and go this year, but none for Ardbert, which is just criminal. So I've decided to host my own.

When is it? WolBert Week will be the first week in October and will go from Sunday, October 1st to Saturday, October 7th. Who's welcome to participate? Everyone is! Whether you ship with him romantically or platonically, whether your OC is a Warrior of Light or not, I'd love to see your Ardbert inspired content. OT3s and polycules are also welcome! What kind of content should I make? Screenshots, edits, graphics, art, writing, or anything else you can think of! What tag should I use? I'll be reblogging all content tagged with #wolbertweek2023

Here are the prompts for Wolbert Week, possibly subject to change if I think of something better before the event is here:

Day 1: Ghost Day 2: Two Worlds, One Heart / Parallels Day 3: I Cast My Lot With Yours Day 4: We Fight as One Day 5: Sacrifice / Loss Day 6: In Another Life / Alternate Universe Day 7: Free Day

This is my first time hosting any kind of community event, so if you have any questions or suggestions please feel free to contact me via inbox here at @wolbertweek or @alannah-corvaine.

Hope to see you all in October!

[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.

[coldest-ishgard-winter]

Yum :3

[limielle]

icarus' evolution through the expacs... i characterise him as a loserboy bocchama spoilt brat but he actually has deep characterisation okay

[berryzawati]

Wolbert Week Day 2: Parallels

[varlimeow]

《 What would you do,

if you met the love of your life..

from another world? 》

[romance book cover challenge from twitter!]

[byarcelllis]

Commission: Chanlyeya

Commission done for @chanlyeya. Thank you for your patronage! 🫶

Kofi | Twitter | Instagram | Carrd | Commissions

[nijohirjesyho]

Wolbert Week Day 2: Parallels

Show me your hands Are they cleaner than mine? Show me your face Did you cross the line? Show me your eyes They any drier than mine? Your soul survives But peace, you'll never find

- If I Say, Mumford and Sons

Ao3 Link

---

Nijoh’ir fell behind as the Scions headed out of the Crystarium, stopping just inside the entrance to the city.

Alisaie halted and turned to look at him, concern flashing on her face, “are you alright?”

Nijoh’ir gave a bitter laughter, “as good as I can be, with everything going on. I- There’s someone I want to talk to before I leave. Go on ahead Crim, I’ll catch up with you all.”

She hesitated a moment longer, long enough for him to cross the distance and shove his forehead into her temple, a rough purr rumbling out of his throat.

Alisaie wrapped her arms around him to pull him into a hug. His tail jerked in response before he returned it, rubbing his forehead against hers gently, purring louder.

“I’ll let the others know.” Alisaie stepped back, and raised one finger, “but you had better not be doing anything stupid.”

Nijoh’ir swallowed and shook his head, throat tight, and eyes wet for a moment, “no. I’m- nothing stupid. Promise Crim.”

“Then… hurry back. And if you need to talk…” She turned away from him, hand drifting to her rapier, “you know I’m always here for you.”

“I know.”

He watched her catch up to her brother, the Scions turning to see what she had to say before he pulled away, doubling back. He was tempted to head to his room, but he settled instead for scaling the stairs leading to the scaffolding that surrounded the Crystarium.

It was not hard to find a quiet and dark spot to tuck himself and wait. He suspected it wouldn’t take long, though longer than usual.

He swiveled a crimson ear at a sound behind him. Footsteps. Heavy boots that hit the ground and made armor clink, the sound of a weapon shifting. Not Emet-Selch or G’r- the Exarch. The one he was hoping for.

“There you are.” Nijoh’ir didn’t turn his head to look at Ardbert yet, “you disappeared during the fighting, I was worried.”

“Why. I’m already dead, or have you forgotten?” Ardbert sounded more bitter than usual, Nijoh’ir’s insides grew heavier, and he turned to look at the other now. “I couldn’t be part of that battle.”

Nijoh’ir’s ears fell back, “did you…” Gods had Ardbert found it in him to have the hope to try? He took a deep breath in and looked back out to the woods of Lakeland, “we can’t help it can we? But to try and be heroes?”

Ardbert scoffed, after a moment Nijoh’ir mimicked the sound. “There I go, sounding like the bard I am. Let me try that again.” He turned, mismatched eyes, teal and violet, meeting sky blue. “We always have to try and help don’t we.” It wasn’t a question. Seto had said as much about Ardbert. The Viis in the village had said the same.

And here they were now, dead and dying and throwing themselves into trying to help. “Gods are we a pair.”

Ardbert moved to join him, both of them looking out at the woods, to distant forts where battles had been fought that very night. Because of this night.

“You’re not coming with us, are you?”

Ardbert startled, Nijoh’ir laughed quietly but there was no mirth in it. Only exhaustion, that clung to him, it clung to him more since Rak’tika Greatwood.

“No. I… No. I’m staying here.” Ardbert shifted slighty, as though he was afraid Nijoh’ir would push. Maybe he wanted him to.

Nijoh’ir gave him a sad smile, and simply said, “I’ll miss you. It’s nice having another with me.” He looked away again, “someone who knows how to enjoy the quiet moments.”

“When I said they often didn’t last long, I hope you know this isn’t what I meant.”

Nijoh’ir flicked his ears in acknowledgement, the Miqo’te quiet for several moments before he replied, “I should’ve. Known better, not about you. I never get a quiet moment for long. And Vauthry, we should’ve known he’d never take what we’d been doing lying down. If I’d been thinking…”

Ardbert looked at him, “this isn’t your fault.”

“And the flood isn’t yours.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Ardbert snapped, his voice suddenly harsh. Nijoh’ir turned to him slowly, exhausted. “You have no idea what we did that caused the flood.”

“Then tell me.” Nijoh’ir replied.

They stared at each other, Ardbert’s face twisted in pain, and regret, Nijoh’ir huffed softly. “We both have our sins to carry Ardbert. It’s about making sure they weigh as they should.” His eyes flickered away, and then back to him, “is that why you don’t want to come to Ahm Arang?”

“Yes. There’s too many memories there.”

Nijoh’ir’s chest hurt, but he just nodded, “I’ll miss you.”

Ardbert looked surprised, eyes scanning Nijoh’ir’s face, turning to gentle wonder, “you will?”

“You’re better company than you give yourself credit for.” Nijoh’ir finally pushed himself off the wall, to step closer to Ardbert, into the warrior’s space, “I’m doing this for you too, you know. If Hydaelyn won’t, I will.”

Ardbert shook his head, but his eyes never left Nijoh’ir’s, “you… you shouldn’t have to.”

“No, but that’s what it means to be a hero doesn’t it?” Here Nijoh’ir smiled, more forced than he wished but he managed, “and you and I both know what it means, when I kill the next Lightwarden.”

Worry darkened Ardbert’s face, Nijoh’ir shook his head before he could speak, “I’ve known since Lakeland. They- The Exarch said the Blessing of Light would protect me.” He scoffed once, this time the smile was bitter, “but you and I both know how Hydaelyn is about protecting champions on the First. We knew that before Emet’s spiel in the Greatwood.”

Ardbert looked away, clearly in thought, “Didn’t… you call her Sprite, right?”

“I’m not calling her by a dead woman’s name, she’s haunted enough by her.”

“Right. The Oracle of Light.” There was something bitter in Ardbert’s tone but it was clear he wouldn’t elaborate, “maybe she’ll have something to tell you.”

“What, like that Hyadelyn will fix all this, and then another hero will show up in a hundred years and we’ll be stuck in statis from this point? She hasn't said anything since I arrived, why would she now?"

They met each other’s eyes and Nijoh’ir wondered if he too remembered the desperate struggle against each other, neither able to triumph against the other. And that Hydaelyn, who had ignored Ardbert’s pleas for aid had finally answered Nijoh’ir’s call.

“It’s my turn Ardbert.” His voice was soft, gentle, “I’ll finish what you started.” One way or the other, he would see the First restored. “Let this world have one last hero.”

“It shouldn’t have to be you.” Ardbert did not seem soothed by this, by the parallel to his own journey Nijoh’ir’s was taking, the way he had accepted what was happening, “you-”

“You said yourself,” he spoke over him, “that you couldn’t help me. It’s okay Ardbert. I don’t know how else to help you, so let me at least do this.”

Ardbert ran a hand through his messy brown hair, “hells, no one should have had to. You sound like- gods, you sound like her, you- but you came here to save it, you shouldn’t have to be a damn sacrifice for us. For my mistake. Hells, Emet was right. We are just slaves to her will.”

Nijoh’ir sighed heavily, “woe be to those who stand against the Warrior of Light. Woe be to those who stand beside him.” Ardbert looked at him in confusion, but he felt no desire to elaborate on the peace he’d had to make with himself once.

“I’m not a sacrifice for your mistake, and if anyone is asking that of me, it is Hydaelyn, the same way she asked it of you-”

“She didn’t ask it of me!” Ardbert threw a hand out, Nijoh’ir jerked back out of instinct, “she denied me.”

Nijoh’ir’s mouth parted, Ardbert held his gaze, pain filling his gaze, “you- She wouldn’t let me, she took all the others but not me.”

“Gods, Ardbert… I’m sorry.”

Ardbert shook his head, pain and bitterness filling his gaze, “and now here we are, and she’s taking you when it should be me. If anyone deserves to turn into a Lightwarden for this mess-”

“I wouldn’t wish that on you.” Nijoh’ir replied quietly. “You don’t deserve it either. If, for all my sins, I don’t deserve it, I refuse to let you deserve it either.”

“That’s not how this works.”

“What if I say it is?” Nijoh’ir challenged, he shook himself, “what if I say we both deserve to live. That neither of us should’ve died for this, that neither of should feel guilty.”

Ardbert didn’t laugh, he never laughed, no matter what joke Nijoh’ir told, what he said to try and prompt him to even smile, but he did something close, “then I’d say you’re a fool, but I knew that about you. Rather like it about you.”

Nijoh’ir wet his lips, “Ardbert. I-” I like you. You deserved better, I wish I could give you more than this. I wish we could’ve been heroes together, “I want you there. Not at Ahm Arang, but when we go to Kholusia. When…” he swallowed, “if this all starts to go badly, can you…”

“Aye. I can be there with you.” They were still close together, nearly pressed together if Ardbert had been alive, been something Nijoh’ir could touch.

“Thank you.” Nijoh’ir breathed, and then added, “I hope you don’t have to be.”

“I hope so too.”

Nijoh’ir leaned forward, into Ardbert’s space and added, “and I wish I could kiss you before I leave.” With that he pulled away, the ghost staring at him with a look of shock as great as if Nijoh’ir had kissed him, “I’ll see you when I get back.”

[zwei2x]

Hey! Trying something new!! Want to get access to my 2022-2023 Meteor / Ardbert / FFXIV nsfw art, but want to be discreet, or can't have subscriptions?

Well I just put out a FFXIV-focused Gumroad NSFW art pack for y'all! 😁

[alannah-corvaine]

"ᴄᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴏᴠᴇ ᴀᴛ ᴀʟʟ?" "ᴍᴏᴠᴇ? ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ᴀʟɪᴠᴇ. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ, ɪ ᴄᴀɴ ꜰʟʏ."

[x]

[may-coops]

some Ardbertwol for a friend

[limielle]

[ardbertwol] i am not a writer at all but i wanted to . get that scene out of my head LOL and i dont want to draw a comic for it . . .

Something Ardbert has noticed, in the few hours they get to spend together whenever Icarus is blessed with downtime, is that the warrior of light has a particularly bad habit of staring. 

He can feel that very stare digging into the back of his head as he appraises Icarus’ weapon collection. It’s impressive, and unexpected. Over the short time that he has been on the First, Icarus has only ever used black magics to defend himself, yet he had Feo Ul bring an amalgam of different weapons to the First the moment it had been possible. 

You have to be prepared, Icarus had told him.

“I didn’t know you could wield the ax,” Ardbert says, turning to meet that incessant gaze head on. “You don’t strike me as the martial type.” 

“I am not,” Icarus responds. He doesn’t look away from Ardbert’s face, even after being caught staring. “I’m sure you wield yours much better than I do, loathe as I am to admit it.” He pauses, and Ardbert pointedly ignores the heat that spreads through his chest at Icarus’ praise. “I wield it using telekinesis, much like the Nouliths over there.” 

He jerks his chin in the direction of four strange looking artifacts. Ardbert turns, grateful to have something else than the viera’s delicate features to focus on for a while. 

“What are those used for?”

“Healing. And hurting.” 

“I can’t- I don’t understand how you can possibly-” 

Before Ardbert can complete his sentence, the weapons lift from their perch. He has to repress the urge to reach for his own when they zip over to him, coming to a stop right before his face. Then, gently, they begin to circle him. The perfect harmony with which they move is akin to watching the dancers in the markets, and Ardbert finds himself mesmerized. 

After a while of spinning around him, they group together again, before shifting away. Ardbert follows them, only to come face to face with Icarus - now standing much closer to him than he was before. 

The nouliths quietly come to a rest behind Icarus’ back. 

“Like that,” Icarus says, smiling down at him. 

“That didn’t explain anything.” If Ardbert sounds a little breathless, Icarus makes no mention of it. He’s looking down at Ardbert again with that same look he gave Emet-Selch during his impromptu visit to the Ocular. 

“You’re staring.” 

Icarus merely hums in response. “I just feel,” he says, “like you’re- like I could just-” 

He trails off, reaching forward. Ardbert watches Icarus’ hand with mounting dread. He’s not sure what it would feel like to have Icarus’ fingers phase right through him, but the feeling of first discovering that he was like this comes rushing back, a coiled lump of despair lodging itself in his throat. 

Fighting the urge to close his eyes, he remains stock still, even as Icarus gently, oh so gently, places his hand against his chest. 

Pressure. 

Despite its current state, his body registers when Icarus’ hand makes contact with his breastplate. Ardbert jerks back, the place where Icarus’ hand had touched burning like molten rock. 

“What-”

“I knew it.” 

“Huh?”

Icarus shrugs, looking down at his hands. “Not once did you seem incomplete to me. I thought if I focused enough aether into my hands I could-” 

Ardbert reaches forward, wrapping his hands around Icarus’ fingers. He can feel them – not the heat of him, he still can’t smell Icarus, he still can’t feel Icarus’ breath despite their proximity, but he feels the distinct pressure of touching something. Someone.

“I- I can’t believe- you- it's really happening- it’s been so long,” he’s babbling, and if he could cry he’s sure that the tears would have spilled by now, but as it is he simply stares at their conjoined hands in awe. 

“Well,” Icarus says softly, “at least now you know you can touch me. If you ever need to.”

[berryzawati]

Wolbert Week Day 7: Free Day

"How are you liking my hometown, Ardbert? You adore the food? I dare say our cuisine is one of our most beloved treasures..."

[thefatedmeeting]

SPITS BLOOD I FINISHED IT... comm for @rakatakat !!!! TYSM FOR COMMISSIONING ME KAT IT WAS LOVELY TO DRAW THEM... im stealing katahkina she hot... sorry ardbert and meteor