#fic: ffxiv

[lavampira]

🧡 kissing in bed / lazy kiss / cuddling for sidalia 🤲

TY and also @gefiltefished for asking as well >:3

🧡 kissing in bed / lazy kiss / cuddling [635 words] [prompts]

A bitter chill seeps into the room long before the sun rises over the horizon, bringing with it hues of soft blue and warm gold as slow illumination takes hold. But while an Ishgardian morning often comes with the nip of an overnight snowfall, her apartment is not frequently drafty, and D’alia pinpoints the source as the frosty window propped open a few ilms, gone forgotten in the prior night, much to her regret.

She burrows further into the layers of the sheet and blankets, desperate to cocoon herself into their warmth, but stills with a wince when she bumps into the man beside her. So often she travels and sleeps alone, she forgets how it is to share a bed. The newness of this step together certainly doesn’t help. He barely stirs, but his large arm tightens around her waist in response.

“Sid,” she whispers.

Momentary silence greets her, enough to doubt that Sidurgu is even awake, but then, “Hm?”

Though his eyes remain closed, still fighting the pull of a comfortable sleep, D’alia hides a smile into her pillow all the same. ‘Tis rare for his guard to be down so completely. Should the necessity arise, he would be alert in a heartbeat, as she has witnessed many times, but the solace that he allows himself in her presence now is touching. It almost makes her feel guilty for stirring him from that rest.

Almost.

“The window is still open,” she says.

“Aye.”

Stifling the urge to laugh, D’alia nudges him. “Don’t be an arse. Are you not cold, too?”

The long sigh in return is the only response she gets, but she knows by it that she was right. Finally, Sidurgu opens his eyes, limbral rings like seafoam and blinking as he adjusts to the dim light of the room. He rolls as if to push himself from the mattress, only to be stopped by her hand around his wrist before he can fully leave.

A twitch of a smile tugs at his lips. “I can’t shut the window from here.”

“I— That wasn’t entirely what I meant.”

Sidurgu stares at her for several painfully long seconds with a pinched brow, long enough that warmth spreads up her neck and settles in her cheeks. Realization crosses his face only moments later, and though he glances away from her with a quiet oh slipping past his lips, his motion resumes to settle instead with his back to the headboard, and holds out his arm in silent invitation.

The blankets pool around her waist as D’alia sits up enough to move, gooseflesh rippling over her exposed limbs, but she sinks into the warmth of his side. Impulsively, she presses her lips to the pale, scarred skin of his broad shoulder. And again, as she shifts sluggish and slow, to a patch of dark scales above his heart. But then he leans down to meet her, winding his hand into her rosy hair as she braces a hand on his chest for purchase, and kisses her lazily but long, absorbed in the throes of the early morning.

When they inevitably part, Sidurgu asks, “Is that what you wanted?”

“Mayhap,” D’alia returns, unable this time to stop the laugh that escapes her at the insufferably fond look he gives her. “‘Tis better to endure the cold this way, don’t you think?”

“I think it still leaves us cold, but aye, I suppose.”

‘Tis a comfort and a gift, these small moments with him. All thoughts of future travels and the open window leave her mind as she rests against him, mindful of his horn above her, already on the verge of dozing again as he tucks the blankets around them again. And as her eyes drift shut, she catches the small smile still gracing his lips.

[kicktwine]

dark knight alisaie.png

[asleepinawell]

every time i go through the end of ew and see the cs with zenos in sharlayan i have to stop and imagine his conversation with that customs lady at the docks when she asked what his job was and he would have gone off on one of his typical monologues about living for 'the hunt, the THRIIIIIIIIILL of bahttle the raw pulsing ecstacy of being locked together in combat, teeth at each other's throats, giving in to the huungaahh that can never be sated' etc etc and she would have been like uh huh so you're unemployed hmmm i see

[viiioca]

one of my favorite things in the ff14 fandom is the consistent and repeated phenomenon of people who got into the game with zero investment, named their character something shitposty because they had no plans to play beyond level 20, played 650 hours instead, had 92% of their brain permanently reshaped, and then eventually find themselves 80,000 words into writing a fanfic where their favorite blorbo is enthusiastically smooching a catboy named B'ento Bahks because they're in too deep for a name change

ff14 is an oncoming train and everywhere i look i see splatters on the tracks

[marzipanladyart]

TADAM! My piece for the Thancred zine you can read for free! \o/ The drawing was done as an illustration for the bestest @sarellathesphinx and her sweet sweet fic you can read here! Please, check it out and give her the biggest amount of love! <333

[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

[scionshtola]

i want to kiss you until i lose my breath

i cannot thank @harumeau beloved enough for this gorgeous art!! based on a scene from a fic of mine (x)

[abyssalmermaiden]

"Thank you..."

(with Odette of @ahollowgrave <3)

copying over my tags on Pigeon's post:

ghost Viola has been lonely for thousands of years-getting all dressed up for a fancy date with a woman as beautiful kind and genuine as Odette is something she would have enjoyed while she was alive- and it means even more to her now. Viola rarely gets truly nice things in any version of her story and this among the best and sweetest TTuTT <3 her ghost outfit would normally be what she died in but I'm saying that Odette's abilities and the love and care she offers allows Viola to view herself differently and that affects her appearance, even though she's dead Odette is helping her to have a present not just a past

[lavampira]

promises to keep

d'alia liveq x sidurgu orl. pre-relationship. 1.8k words. post-2.0 patches and early heavensward spoilers. cw: mentions of grief. [also on ao3]

More often these days, D’alia finds herself at the Forgotten Knight after a patrol. The warmth of the low-burning fire is always a welcome respite from the falling snow, particularly after twirling with Rielle in circles to catch the frozen flakes on their tongues between fits of laughter until Sidurgu ushers them into the tavern, their own shelter from the stinging cold and prying eyes that follow them in the streets.

Their usual table is unbothered, close enough for Rielle to shed her mittens and warm her hands at the fireplace. Sidurgu takes his ever-watchful place to view the entirety of the room, arms folded over his broad chest, never far from their small charge. D’alia watches them over her shoulder as she awaits drinks from Gibrillont, marveling at the familiarity and how quickly this has settled into her life.

It nearly takes her back to memories of a time not long past that still sit too heavy in her chest, threatening to crawl up her throat and choke her if she allows them. ‘Tis all too easy to spot a shared table in another place if she closes her eyes, Y’shtola with a smirk over the rim of her wineglass as Thancred regales them with a tale and draws laughter bubbling out of D’alia at his antics, until reality sets in and they dissipate into the nothingness.

The weight of loss aches far more than the fabricated accusations and treachery that had forced her to flee to this place, but she doesn’t yet know how to let go. She never has—from only thirteen summers into life, all she has known is how to run and how to hold the past in a vice grip. Mayhap that is precisely why she continues to cling to Sidurgu and Rielle despite all her inner protestations to let others close again. Lost and damaged souls, the trio of them.

The path we walk is a lonely one, calls the voice beneath the surface of her mind.

Gibrillont raises an eyebrow at the obvious tension across her features but says nothing as he slides across two wooden tankards and a mug. Forcing her hands to unfurl from fists, D’alia gathers them to carry with an exchange of gil. The smile she offers is still too tight, but no matter. The tavernkeep has moved on again.

Another familiarity, this one: Sidurgu is first to see her return, but Rielle moves swifter than he does, ignoring his fussing as she scrambles for the mug of cocoa. D’alia’s laugh echoes in their sparse corner of the room as she settles into a seat with her tail flicking at her side. She passes one tankard across the uneven table, and Sidurgu accepts it with a nod, then turns to their charge with a frown.

“Hey,” Sidurgu admonishes. “What do you say?”

Rielle rolls her eyes, but smiles sheepishly once her gaze settles on her. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.” D’alia reaches to tuck a loose tendril of hair behind the girl’s pointed ear. “Enjoy.”

As she watches Rielle grin over the rim of the mug held between her two small hands and Sidurgu skim the room idly over the rim of the tankard, D’alia realizes with a new heaviness that she will soon miss this routine. She leaves for Dravania on the morrow, uncertain of what the trip may yield, much less how long it will take. She supposes that worry for both of them will follow her, too.

Sidurgu can handle it, she knows. Despite the fears that had led to him asking for her help, he has protected Rielle on his own thus far, even with their disagreements. His heart bleeds for the young girl in a way that must remind him of his own childhood, as D’alia has begun to see the same in herself if she remains honest, their shared cyclical nature of paying forward the protection and care of a grieving soul who only wanted to do better, and so she dreads the time apart.

“You can be so daft,” Rielle snaps, ripping her from her thoughts. “Gods, I’m not just some stupid kid, you know.”

A pinch forms in Sidurgu’s brow above his scales. “I didn’t say that.”

“You act like it!”

Rielle gives him no opportunity to refute it before she throws her arms up with a frustrated noise and runs for the stairs. Sidurgu calls after her, but the girl is gone in a blink, heading for the inn room where they have been staying for some time now. He runs his hands over his face, only meeting D’alia’s gaze once he lowers them to idly nudge his tankard on the table.

“Sorry, she…” Sidurgu trails off in a sigh. “Things are still rough.”

“‘Tis difficult to be a young girl, not including all she’s been through.”

“Aye, you’re right. It’s just harder than I thought.”

D’alia leans on her palm, gazing up at him with a soft smile. “You’re doing well by her, Sid. There’s naught to worry about if you simply listen to her.”

“Well, it’s been easier with you around,” he admits quietly before a final sip of his ale.

Regret blooms through her with his confession, but before she can determine how much she should share, considering how much risk they already face from the Temple Knights, Sidurgu resolves that he should check on their charge. D’alia leaves the remainder of her own ale on the table to follow him. Silence weighs between them up the stairs, and she’s all too aware of how close they are in the narrow passage, her pauldron brushing against his cuirass.

It doesn’t take long to arrive at the door to their room. D’alia notes that it appears smaller than the single bed that she has occasionally rented, desperate to escape the confines of the manor no matter how grateful she is for the Fortemps’ hospitality, cramped with two small beds, an armoire, a dresser, and a desk. She glances over the tidied bed closest to the door while Sidurgu speaks to Rielle near the opposing one, wondering briefly how a man as large as him could comfortably fit in it, but warmth spreads up her neck and cheeks at the thought.

“I think I shall take my leave,” D’alia calls hurriedly, her tail twitching behind her leg. “‘Tis getting late.”

The lingering dread of her upcoming journey drives her across the room to their young charge. So unused to the sort of affection after the hints of her life that she has shared with her, Rielle still tenses when she embraces her, but sinks into D’alia after a beat with her own arms thrown around her in turn.

“I know Sid can be frustrating, but try to be patient with him,” D’alia says, drawing back to cup the girl’s face in her hands. Before Rielle can protest, she adds, “Even when he’s daft.”

“I can hear you,” he grumbles somewhere behind her.

“Take your horns elsewhere then, eavesdropper. We’re having a private chat.”

That causes a burst of giggles to escape Rielle, but she agrees to be patient with her stubborn caretaker so long as he continues trying to listen to her, which is enough for her. It pains D’alia to pull away from her not knowing what the morrow brings, but she offers a goodnight with a gentle pat before she forces herself to turn to leave. It springs to mind the question if her parent ever feels that way when she leaves him behind, too.

Heavy footsteps follow her to the door. Sidurgu’s large shadow looms over her shoulder as she stops at the door, but rather than intimidating, it strikes her as the first real sense of safety that she has felt in some time. Strange, considering a crystal and a simulacrum brought them together. But she knows in the deepest part of her heart that she trusts him to watch over her as much as she tries for him, too.

“I wanted to let you know I will be gone awhile,” D’alia says quietly, low enough for only him to hear, with her hand still on the unopened door. “I’m not yet sure when I’ll return.”

“Oh?”

Sidurgu shifts in her peripheral, curiosity laced with trepidation leaking from his voice in one simple word, but he doesn’t ask the burning question that she knows must be on the tip of his tongue. She risks a glance at him, tilting her head up to see him better in the dim lighting of the small room. His gaze remains sharp and unreadable with limbral rings aglow, half-hidden behind the white hair flopped over his forehead, all but pinning her in place as he observes her in turn.

D’alia isn’t quite sure what brings it to mind right then, but she finds herself struck by the fleeting thought that he must have watched Fray walk out that door, too, only to never return, leaving Sidurgu alone with their pact to protect that small child from the Temple Knights hunting her. Now here she is in Fray’s place, having made the same oath to keep Rielle safe so that he isn’t alone though her duty summons her away from the city. Guilt claws up her chest until it lodges itself in her throat.

Watching him now, she sees the full sum of his stubborn determination, his fear of failure, and the shroud of loss around him that mirrors her own, too. Kindred spirits are they, not solely in the shared and uneasy path that they walk, but the respective heaviness that they carry with them. And he hasn’t once shied away from her. Twelve be damned, she refuses to disappoint him.

“I made you a promise, though. I will return,” D’alia begins again. “Should aught happen that you require aid, the members of House Fortemps are trusted friends. Tataru, another ward of the house, will remain here, too. She isn’t the most combat-inclined, but she’s resourceful.” As she trails off, running a hand through her rosy hair, warmth spreads up her neck. “Pray say something before I make more of a fool of myself with my babbling.”

The corner of Sidurgu’s mouth quirks with a hint of a smile. “You’re no fool. But… Thank you. I’ll keep it in mind.”

“Please do.”

“Listen, D’alia.” His hand reaches for her shoulder, but he stops short of her and balls it into a fist, lowering it to his side. “Tread softly, wherever it is you’re headed. I know your tendency towards finding trouble.”

Unable to suppress the soft fondness that swells through her, D’alia tilts her head away, lips pulling into a smile once more. She is certainly stalling now, hovering at the door as if caught between two lives. Stranger still, how much this one has become so integral, tied to her fellow dark knight and a small Elezen girl, and the desire to stay with them even a bit longer.

No, she doesn’t know how to let go, even less how to stop running. But as she finally passes through the door with that shadow still over her, she hopes one day she can learn.

[kaytayto]

Estimeric Day 1

First | Dreams

helloooo happy estimeric week! I was super inspired by this fic and thought it would be a fun play on the "First" prompt. 👉👈 shoutz your fic is lovely!!!

[impossible-rat-babies]

vierapril day 12--connection/scion

"always has she been my better..."

[whinges]

I got the opportunity to illustrate Rev's lovely Estimeric fic "where earth and the heavens did meet" for the Fauxlore FFXIV Mini Bang! Read it here ❤️

[kimikoyukiart]

Estimeric skeb-style comm for @sherribonne !

Based on a scene from her fic "The Viscount and I" Available Here

[crystallineconflict]

bad end, again. (by @Ya__n1n)

[mosaickiwi]

Soft - Light

Your attempt to cook on a date night goes from bad to worse when the lights go out. Redacted always has you covered, though. 900ish words, GN reader as per usual c:

14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI

~

"I definitely did something wrong," you muttered and wrinkled your nose at your creation.

"Hmm, maybe they just look like that?" Ren unhelpfully commented from behind you, hovering just as close as always. You didn't have to see his face to know he was grinning. 

"You know what they look like." Smoke began rising from the pan, accompanied by a rather burnt smell as you desperately tried to wriggle the spatula under the lumpy, oversized pancake. All you managed to do was tear its dark brown edges to a mess and reveal the insides—somehow still raw with bits of unmixed batter. You sighed and switched off the burner, turning around to dump the hot pan in the sink and blast it under the faucet. Rather half-heartedly, you scrubbed at the surface. “Breakfast for dinner shouldn't be this hard.”

They watched you with amusement as the water immediately sizzled and steamed from the pan. Curiously, he picked up the box of pancake mix at the stove, turning it in his hands. "You know I'd love t'help, Angel, but…" he trailed off and you could easily fill in the blank.

"You'd do a lot worse, yeah." You quickly gave up on saving the cookware and moved to your boyfriend's side, peering at the box in his hand. Your eyes narrowed on a few words in the first step of instructions. Prepare a nonstick skillet or griddle. One glance back at the shiny metal mistake soaking in the sink told you right away: it was doomed from the start. "You know what? I don’t care. Let’s just order—"

A sudden crack of thunder drowned out your voice and you jumped. The evening sky was perfectly clear when Ren arrived, but the weather in Corland Bay loved to change on a dime. You could hear rain pelt harshly against the windows in the living room as another thunderous roar boomed, much louder than the first. Only a second passed before the lights flickered and died to shroud the apartment in darkness.

“Are you kidding me!?” came Violet’s muffled scream of frustration through the walls. She must’ve been in the middle of a very important gaming session.

You clung to the dark-haired hacker's arm as your eyes took their time adjusting in the dark. He didn't seem all that phased though, casually wrapping an arm around you while he pulled out his phone. The kitchen was tinted in a faint glow from the screen. You expected him to turn on the flashlight like any normal human would, but he began scrolling through a delivery app.

"Ren," you started, utterly confused by his actions. "Who do you think is going to deliver in a storm when their power is out?"

"The whole bay isn't out. Look," he said and carefully guided you into the living room with a nod towards the windows.

He took a seat while you drew back the curtain to peek. Sure enough, most of Corland was lit up like usual. In fact, it only seemed like your apartment building and a few adjacent ones were completely dark. Another point in the long list against your landlord for being cheap.

The lights from outside weren't much, but you could see a lot better once the curtain was open completely. You walked back over to the couch and Ren immediately held his arms open for you, still searching his phone. 

His hair tickled against your cheek as he pulled you into his lap and rested his chin on your shoulder. "Y'liked the place we ordered from last weekend, right? Wanna try 'em again?” 

"Yeah," you answered and settled against them. He turned his cheek to place a quick kiss on your neck before reading the options aloud. His voice was a soft whisper, blended with the now gentle patter of rain against glass. Their hand rubbed careful circles on your back to soothe you. It was more than enough to put you at ease in his embrace, the disaster in the sink long forgotten.

Quiet minutes passed as he spoke and you responded silently in turn. The barely there nods or shakes of your head you made were all you could muster as exhaustion caught up. He finished up the order and soon you were pressing yourself further against the warmth of their body.

He made no comment when you maneuvered in his lap, merely tilting his chin up to welcome the kiss you needed. The phone slipped from his hand not a moment later. You felt the shape of his smile against your lips and giggled softly at his reaction. It was sweet to know how much he always wanted you. Cool fingers came to rest at your thigh as you kissed him once more, then pulled back.

"Tired?" he asked and looked up at you with a smile, leaning into your hand that traced along the shell of his ear. The faint light filtering through the window caught on his piercings when you pushed his bangs back.

"Mhmm," you said with a lazy nod. "Still gonna kiss you 'til the food's here, though."

"Lucky me." He tugged you forward, gentle as could be, and softly kissed the corner of your mouth as he mumbled, "Yippee."

The surprised laugh you let out was only muffled by the fevered press of their lips.

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Lena's Got Game [A Supercorp Fic]

I just posted an actual fic to ao3. Check it out if you're interested!

Title: Lena's Got Game

Summary: After the battle with Nyxly, Lena changes... and develops a bit of a reputation.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49386226