#final fantasy xiv kin

[kincalling]

This is a long shot, but I might as well try. I'm Fray/Esteem from Final Fantasy XIV, looking for Sid, Rielle, or the Warrior of Light. I'm 19, so minors (16+) or adults are okay. I remember the Warrior as a viera, but honestly, I couldn't care less what you look like. Interact with the post or reach out to me at @justfictionkinningthings to talk.

⚡️

[findthebae]

Hey, I'm a fictive of Alisaie Leveilleur from Final Fantasy 14.

I've been catching up on my source (just got to shadowbringers), and would love to meet anyone from it if they are around.

Bodily be 18+ please, we are 21. Blog is @red-alphinaud

@red-alphinaud

[endworld-kins]

fem gaia : final fantasy 14 fashion kit for anon !

🖤 | 🔨 | 🖤

🔨 | 🖤 | 🔨

[the-fellowship-of-lalafell]

For the lot that is the Fellowship, it is largely trust. You squander the trust of any of the Fellowship, you might as well jump dimensions and hope none of them follow you or exist in that other dimension, else wise you will not like existing from then on out.

Trust is taken super seriously in the Fellowship of the Lupine's Kin, as many of its members come from backgrounds where a lack of trust has caused major hardships, or even death.

Members like Tea Leaf and Aurora won't be as affected by a break in trust as those like Squallall and The Hidden would, and François will take offence to a break in trust a certain way due to having been in the Gridanian army before/during the Calamity, only taking a break to raise The Hidden until he was reinlisted for the Calamity; to him, squandering the trust of one person means the whole crew might as well be in danger/be vulnerable.

Helm's Deep, Tea Leaf, and Aurora will just end up disappointed at you for breaking their trust and will slowly cut contact with you over the course of the rest of the week.

Squallall, The Hidden, and T'savia will perceive a break in trust as a threat to safety. You would likely end up dead if the trust break was serious enough, like sharing classified documentation to the enemy, or tried to defame them.

Thimble... Will do whatever possible to make the trust breaker disappear without a trace. Suspicions on that she's willing to perform cannibalism if it makes people go away have been unconfirmed, as not even bones/belongings that were on the missing trust breaker have been found. She has no enemies not just because she wants to be the poster child for the best Brass Blade ever.

9/21/24

What is something that quickly gets under your wol(oc)'s skin? or quickly irritates them?

[myrfing]

got zero #meatbunswag

[idalenn]

Day 1 - Steer

Aftermath of the Crystal Tower. Alphinaud learns from a true businessman. (A Realm Reborn)

Full text below the cut if you'd rather read it on Tumblr instead of Ao3.

“And of the boy – were you successful locating his next of kin?”

“The documents provided by NOAH were bereft of evidence related to his origins. Unofficially, we’ve heard claims he may have familial ties within the Corvosi of southeastern Ilsabard.” The Elezen woman tapped a quill to the open, hide-backed volume in her hands. “But we are unable to confirm their validity at this time. It remains hearsay.”

“Then our efforts must be concentrated in a more scholarly direction. We cannot simply shrug our shoulders when it comes to Sharlayan. Having the loss of their pupil go unrecognized, or worse – underappreciated – will impact future endeavors. Reparations will soften the blow and secure fertile grounds for tilling.” With his own writing tool, edges leafed in gold and tipped with a brilliant ruby, Lolorito scratched his final signature onto the treaty.

A click of the inlaid jewel sent the tool’s end retreating into itself. Black ink dripped from the hole; blood from an open wound. One quick swipe with cloth made of finer material than Lillian would ever own picked it up without a trace left behind. Lolorito curtly tossed the cloth back among the ink pots. “A veritable drop in the ocean of spoils we’ve earned this day, wouldn’t you agree?”

Lillian felt a veritable ocean of sweat growing in her boots. Devoid of windows or any sort of opening to the outside save the single door combined with an abundance of crystal-lit lanterns, the Monetarist’s chamber buffered her and Alphinaud with a furnace’s heat. Even wearing gloves she feared taking the document in hand and drenching their hard work. The scars across her face ached under the pressure.

“Adamantite. Allagan technology. Wisdom beyond measure and reach, and beyond price some might claim, but there will be a price, and as sole owner of that crystal tower, the price shall be any figure negotiable.” The Lalafell chuckled to himself as he sealed the treaty with wax and sigil before sliding it across the desk. “And this is just the beginning. I know our contract was only for the tower’s acquisition, but I have grand plans in motion for future expansion, and you’re just the two to help see them bear fruit.” He spread his arms wide as though welcoming them into his embrace. “Care to stay for a time?”

Another cramp ran through Lillian’s leg. The chairs they sat in were perfectly Lalafell sized, undoubtedly Lolorito’s primary audience, but less so for the snow-haired Elezen child across from him, and unbearably small for the Miqo’te dwarfing every other soul in the room, whose legs were forcibly kept at such an angle between chair and desk that, if this meeting continued much longer, were liable to fall off.

“Other business calls.” She said.

“Of course. Scions and governments running you ragged must come first, but forget not my offer. And you, Master Alphinaud? From your quiet I must believe in some thought being given.”

Alphinaud took the treaty in a shaking hand. “Your assistance to the Crystal Braves is greatly appreciated, Lord Lolorito. If I may, I have but one more question, and after we’ll be on our way.”

“Then I take it you need time to consider.” Lolortio stroked his goatee, smiling with brilliant white teeth. The mask made interpreting his expression impossible. To Lillian it appeared a predator’s grin. “Very well. The floor is yours, my boy.”

“Care to share the details on how you intend to move forward? Specifically, I wish to know how you will honor the loss of G’raha Tia, without whom this endeavor would have ended in failure.” The Elezen aide narrowed her eyes. Lolorito’s smile never dropped an ilm.

“For effort contributed, I suppose you can be trusted with particulars. I am nothing if not fair, as Nald’Thal demands.” One of the lanterns flickered, and a glint off a gold-plated scale on the Lalafell’s desk caught Lillian’s attention. “G’raha Tia has no will, no family of note who can be contacted or given payment, and represents no organization outside of one within Sharlayan. Any and all possessions within NOAH’s hands will be returned to that organization. His share will, of course, be divided amongst all hired.

“Sharlayan will receive a lump sum of gil in an amount yet to be determined but no less than two hundred thousand. That previously mentioned organization will also partake of a sizable donation. Ah, but this name eludes me.” He snapped his fingers rapidly as if trying to light a spark. “I’m sure it began with ‘students’ something or other… the students of…”

“Baldesion.” Alphinaud finished through gritted teeth.

“It is refreshing, Master Alphinaud, to meet another so untrained in subtleties and be reminded I am not so alone in this world. As someone eyeing to hold a position of political power in our realm, you would do well to either hone a silver tongue or abandon all pretense of furthering your cause with it.”

“You only saw our friend as numbers to be counted!”

“Absolutely! Much in the same way you yourself only see the Syndicate in measures of usefulness and value to your coffers. Life is a series of numbers! You sought profits as well as I, my boy, and in doing so one must on occasion plan for declines. All gathered in this room have value, and all will be made equal should misfortune come to pass.”

Lolorito leaned forward over the desk, his hands folded together in a wall from which atop he stood a giant before Alphinaud and the Warrior of Light. “You captain an uncertain ship, Master Alphinaud, and unless you wish your company dashed amongst the rocks, you had best learn to steer.”

[beefbroganoff]

that's a lot of positive traits that I don't think I can judge the veracity of for myself in good conscience but. mister gragito

[arighmaa-dataq]

Are you a fan of the critically acclaimed MMORPG Final Fantasy XIV Online? Have you wanted to see what your favorite asmr boyfriends would look like in the critically acclaimed MMORPG Final Fantasy XIV Online? Then you've come to the right place! Decided to boot up the Dawntrail Benchmark and play with the character creator, and bring to you what I imagine the boys of Yuurivoice would look like in this game. Enjoy! Starting off with our favorite pastel punk boy, Alphonse as a bunny boy, probably as a monk or ninja. Can't get any of the job gear sets on here so just imagine something on him and everyone else.

Next up I had to put in Seth, who your usual midlander. And it took me forever to find a hair that I thought would suit him and I'm still not sure if I got it right. As for class, either Gunbreaker, Warrior, or Paladin, but definitely some kind of tank.

Now for our versatile flower boy, who of course HAD to be a viera too. Like I dunno what y'all were expecting. And he makes a cute one at that! For class, I'd say it's obvious he'd be a magic user. If I could give him Y'shtola's Sorcerer job I would, but for this I think a white mage suits him well!

Next up is our Big Red Lucien, who I had to get a little creative with. For him it was either gonna be a Roegadyn or a Highlander. And fun fact, even at min height Roes are still much taller than our demon boy, and while the highlander would be closer to his actual height it just didn't really feel like our devilish himbo, so I went with Roe, and gave him some dark skin and yellow face paint to try and connect to his horn pattern. He'd be rockin as either a Warrior or Dark Knight.

Next is Auron as an elf boy, and much like with Big Red, even at minimum height it's much taller than he is irl. Had to futz a bit again with the hair but I think he'd rock the elsa braid really well. I also see him very much kinning Estinien, which should make @jackieeleanor very happy. Aside from the obvious Dragoon, could also see him as a mechanist or bard.

And now for Faust, who ABSOLUTELY go as a catgirl. And a fabulous one at that. Like you can't tell me he doesn't stream FFXIV every so often and rock the Keeper look like the diva he is. Would have a whole backstory for his WoL and everything. And he would very much be a very tired and annoyed Astrologian.

Last but certainly not least, we have our favorite rat Charlie, who even here is a silly little guy. The most pathetically adorable lalafell you've ever seen, and very much bullied by everyone else in the party. Will likely die a LOT, and have to be carried by his Casper through dungeons. He's a little monk trying his best.

[feralkwe]

Fic Rating: E (Chapter Rating: T)

Relationships: Elidibus/Warrior of Light, Sidurgu Orl/Warrior of Light

Characters: Warrior of Light (Kit Hareington), Sidurgu Orl, Rielle de Caulignont, Myste, Fray

Additional Tags: Dark Knight Questline, Grief/Mourning, Friends With Benefits, Found Family

Summary:

"You could have stopped this any time you wished," Myste told her, dark lips forming the words but failing to maintain shape. "I could have if you hadn't stolen my aether," she snarled between her teeth. "No. Any time. All you had to do was listen." She turned toward where Rielle was helping Sid sit up. "Not to them, Kit. To us." Fray's sword lowered in her hands. "Us? Us who?" "We scream and scream and you smother us so no one can hear. Your so-called friends who refuse to see us. You won't let our wants—our needs—be known." He raised his hands on either side of him. He shook his head. "Woe betide the man who stands before the Weapon of Light. Death for him, his kin, and all he fights for." A flash of red light streaked across his indiscernible face, there and gone as quickly. "Like grains of sand our wants and needs slip through our clumsy fingers, again and again and again until all that's left is… us."

The Warrior of Light faces her greatest foe yet and must find her own strength if she is to prevail.

Penultimate chapter of Living Dead Girl is up! Took a little side trip but we're wrapping up Kit's Eat, Slay, Love journey before setting off into EW! Enjoy!

[findthebae]

Final Fantasy XIV fictives looking for friends! We’re bodily 34! No minors, please, and we prefer 21+! Our system has a handful of XIV fictives, but our common fronts are Hythlodaeus, Emet-Selch and Elidibus. Discord: straye SimplyPlural: Straye

! ! !

[enoshimastims]

Mwahahagaha you've given me another space to bother you with requests!

Can has lovecore Ryne (Final Fantasy XIV) stimboard? With no long nails if possible!

You brought this on yourself (⁠◡⁠ ⁠ω⁠ ⁠◡⁠)

As usual, no kin/id tags and please don't tag as Ryne Waters!

- 🦊

[braemoira]

Au De Chatelain

A Final Fantasy XIV Character’s Prologue’s Prologue. Which makes maybe slightly more sense. These two idiots are gonna have to get a room.

TW: Violence Against Animals.

Where do you stop, when you’re brushing fur?

Alfasi and Vauquelin know the answer to that now. The answer is when the kid grumbles at you.

The last four years of their lives have been some of the best, and some of the strangest, they’ve ever known. The position rotates on a five year basis, and they’re beginning to grow concerned. Because, for the last four years, their outpost far and away to the north of Falconhead has had a… Mascot. A Hrothgar Girl, found as an infant by the pair one winter evening. All told it wasn’t that long ago, but as the two of them watch the child dance and sprint among the fireweed that coats the forest floor right after the thaw? It feels like a different life entirely. Spring has come at last, and the kid’s grown an awful lot.

Braemoira, they named her. Mountain on the Borderland. Irreplaceable mascot of their unit, even if she has a tendency only recently begun to fade to gnaw on spear shafts and staffs alike. When Redolieux found her last summer damn near chewing through his halberd? It’s a miracle he didn’t shout loud enough to wake the Dravanians their slumber then and there. Alfasi more or less empathizes, having enlarged fore teeth for vegetation, but she cannot fathom the pain of dealing with that many nor that large of fangs emerging. Mercifully, she’s managed to… Almost, stay safe so far. She’s shown a particular love for the pair now minding her as she plays, and they in turn have loved her back. Her first words, were to them both. Or.. The first thing they decided sounded like words rather than a babbling purring noise she stopped making when her eyes finally opened. Much to Alfasi’s sorrow, that sound hasn’t been heard since.

It is Vauquelin, who breaks the quiet morning in the lee of the tower first. They know the kid won’t hear them at this distance, but they also know she can cross it faster than many men can react. She was up and running within the first year, and hasn’t ever slowed down since. It would be fine, if she wasn’t so damnedably quiet thanks to those fur-padded paws of hers. He pauses, and takes a soft breath, turning to Alfasi.

“I want her, and you, to come home with me.”

Alfasi freezes. Her ears twitch, one trained on Braemoira as always, the other turning towards him. How he wishes he had such a neat trick as that. “..What?” She manages to ask, her voice slow and small and so very suddenly out of its depth. He nods, and continues. “My family isn’t one of the high houses but we have some wealth to us. Enough to have land. A house. And.. I want you to make it a home with me. And with her.” He continues, earning her actually turning towards him properly to look at his expression. Her eyes ask if he is joking, and he knows he is not. Something like hope appears in her eyes as she studies him over. “..Why now?” She manages to ask.

“I’ve been.. Thinking about things. Since we found her. Really since I found you. You and your bloody astrolabe, looking to stars I know you can only barely see. And.. Euhgh I’m a soldier, I’m not supposed to sound sappy.” He responds, rolling his hand over before pinching his nose and sighing loudly. He wants to tell her, to say she under the light of the moon is the most beautiful thing he’s ever known. That the thought of being without her snoring in the barracks or.. Elsewhere, he prays, is a thought he cannot live without. The words fail him, but, she nods all the same.

It is just as she is about to answer, that they are interrupted by the sound of a wolf growling.

In an instant, they are up. A lone wolf, smaller than its usual kin from malnourishment, emerging from the brush and stalking towards Braemoira. Vauquelin acts on instinct, catching his spear from the tower wall it was leaned against and throwing himself into a leap towards the one he dreams of calling daughter. Alfasi’s aetheric bolt races alongside him nearly so fast as he moves, her planisphere having never left her lap.

Neither of them were necessary.

By the time Vauquelin is impaling its magic-scorched carcass to the tree behind it, it is just that. A Carcass. And one he did not make. His legs moved back on instinct, out of its striking and thrashing range, but.. For no reason. No blow comes. He frowns. Normally they last a few seconds after being taken out, before the body runs out of essence and the aether flees. But… He looks down, studying the lone wolf. Alfasi is jogging up behind him, and even his lesser hearing can tell that much, saying something to Braemoira but.. It doesn’t quite matter what. Not in the face of this question. His eyes trace it from tail to head.

And he finds a rock, long and chipped sharp by snow wedging, lodged in its eye.

He turns back, and sees the woman he loves healing the girl he wants to call daughter. Healing a cut on her hand from something sharp and jagged. He looks back to the hound, and finds both ends of the stone blood-stained. Another turn. He strides over, letting his spear fall to the wayside grass- a capital sin for any Dragoon- and hoists them both into his arms. Squeezing tightly, earning a squeak of surprise from Alfasi and an energetic bite from Braemoira. That’ll hurt later. He has better things to think about right now, and he doesn’t much care what else is transpiring. “Marry me. Let me name you de Chatelain. Let us name her so.” He blurts out, squeezing a little more as he buries his face into both of his girls soot-black hair.

It takes a moment for Alfasi to answer, but she nods, and squeezes back. She’d been wondering when he would ask her for nearly two years now, but, what with patrols and the ever changing threat of Garlemald to the south and east, she figured it was never the right time. She hugs them both back, and though their kid doesn’t quite understand why, she seems more than happy to be held by both at once, and calms down her chewing on Vauquelin’s shoulder, earning a sigh of relief from him and a chuckle from Alfasi. The girl’s been doing her best ever since they first found Braemoira in the snow, thanking the gods every day she can hide when she’s listening in on someone better than he can hide his glances. She manages to speak, as she sets a single kiss against his cheek, the first she prays of many more to come.

“Let’s survive the next few months first, yes? I don’t think Lorilleux would take kindly to me stealing the good linens to make a wedding dress~”

[knifeforarequiem]

Sephiroth Re(arrives)

Good evening, everyone. I've been on this blog for quite a while now but still haven't found success in finding people who also are from the same canon as I, and I am therefore reposting my introduction post:

I am Knife, 19, he/him. I am the primary kin of Sephiroth from Final Fantasy VII, Zenos from Final Fantasy XIV, and Light Yagami from Death Note. This is my canon memories blog. I also greatly enjoy dark and gruesome aesthetics.

Please see my about, kins, DNI, and triggers. I will make this again clear: DOUBLES, ABSOLUTELY DO NOT INTERACT. I do so desire to peruse contact with other kins in my canons. Follow me if you recognize your canon or are simply interested and we can have a conversation if desired.

My other interests include sexuality(you can ask for more information about this), poetry, history, travelling and the darkness of human psychology.

[sezja]

Febuwhump Day 23: Presumed Dead Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV Characters/Ship: Mallius, Original Characters (Darcy) Triggers/Content warnings: Food insecurity/disordered eating

It's barely a footnote in the reports coming out of Eorzea; Mallius might have missed it if he'd not been idly skimming while waiting for his companions to return. He'd read past it, then something about it seized his attention, and he'd found himself paralyzed, staring at one name in particular.

"Unit of five covert agents believed lost, along with cargo. Presumed dead." A list of five names, most of them unfamiliar - provincials, mostly; aan chosen for their lack of a Garlean third eye rather than skill. Four unfamiliar names...

And one Mallius knows. Or knew, once.

Darcelyn oen Dremelus, the report reads. Signifer, unclassified.

Dead, then.

A queer numbness spreads through him, a distant pain.

"You know they're only sending me to Eorzea to get myself killed."

He blinks, shaking his head. Deaths are common where the savages yet reign; every day brings new reports of casualties - more and more since Dalamud's fall. An assignment to an Eorzean castrum is all but a death sentence: a fit place for tucking away lackluster recruits, underwhelming engineers... and fireball-flinging malcontents, forever shirking their duties and arguing with their superiors.

Needing a walk, abruptly, Mallius abandons his wait for his companions, walking out instead into the frigid air.

"Well, at least it'll be warmer there, I suppose."

It'd been years since he'd last seen them, when out of the blue Darcelyn had tracked him down and dragged him out for drinks, despite his protests that his work demands a clear head - but then, when had they ever cared about a hard day's work, theirs or anyone else's? For as long as Mallius could recall, Darcelyn had been a notorious slacker; how many punishments had it earned them? How often had their rations been cut, once their superiors learned hunger was a powerful motivator?

They'd been stick-thin when Mallius saw them last, that night; too thin to be drinking as much as they did. There had been a hectic light in their eyes that bordered on madness when there was a lull in the conversation - which came often; Mallius was no conversationalist, and they had little enough to talk about, having drifted apart since their childhood.

His mother will want to know they're dead, Mallius realizes. She's the closest thing Darcelyn has to a next of kin, what with old Dremelus dying a year ago. His mother had always been kind to the child so many others had dismissed as a half-breed or worse; more than anything Mallius himself had done, that was what made Darcelyn latch onto him in their youth - he hadn't wanted to befriend someone who would only make him tainted by association, but he'd been unable to shake them off, no matter how he tried.

He'd snuck them food, though, when they'd gone hungry - first because Dremelus' many other wards stole their food, and later when they'd been punished by teachers... and still later, in their training years, when they'd been put on short rations for disobedience and insubordination.

It hadn't even occurred to him to wonder what ever became of them when, inevitably, their specializations pulled them apart: he'd begun the extensive training necessary to become a link in Garlemald's extensive information network, binding the Empire together with spies and secrets... and Darcelyn, he'd supposed, had gone on to train with whatever it was mages trained with. Mallius hadn't spared them a thought.

And now...

"You know they're only sending me to Eorzea to get myself killed."

They'd sounded certain of it. He'd scoffed, knowing if they were wanted dead, there were ways to arrange it here in Garlemald without wasting the effort of sneaking covert agents into Eorzea.

But now...

"Damn it all," he mutters, shoving his hands into his pockets and scowling into the wind. "You should've just deserted."

How long might they have lasted, he wonders, if they'd just run? They looked Eorzean enough at a glance, and no one would mistake that mess for a Garlean spy. Assuming they could keep their head down and their mouth shut, Darcelyn could've easily passed for some vagrant, he's sure of it. He's heard enough about the chaos and madness going on in Eorzea to believe even they could pass unnoticed, for a time.

What a waste.

It hurts, he realizes, startled; it hurts more than it ought to, for someone he wouldn't even properly call a friend. They'd been miserable, unhappy - starved, literally and figuratively. Always seeking something they couldn't find here, never entirely certain what it might be-

And they'd sought him out at the last, he supposes, hoping someone might miss them when they were gone.

"I suppose you got what you wanted," he says aloud, ignoring the curious glances from passers-by. "Find some kind of peace with it, if you can. Some of us have work to get back to."

[fictionkinfessions]

i still think one of the funniest experiences ive ever had was playing final fantasy xiv and seeing someone who made their characters name the god i worshipped/still invoke. like, ive seen people whove made their characters named after me, but it hits a little different when its fucking god.

also im 99% sure im the only person who both kins from this source (insanely obscure so that was another reason for it being a gut punch) and plays ffxiv, so.

e

[ktisma]

hi friends i noticed a lack of ffxiv quizzes that wasnt just the scions so i made one! there are over 35 answers from ARR to endwallker!! enjoy!!