#wol x oc

[amons-hat-enthusiast]

FFXIV Polyamory Week 2024: Day 1 - Sleeping positions

All three of them sleeping together doesn't happen very often, and when it does, the most common sleeping position is the Matheli sandwich :)

Thank you @fairygodpiggy for showing me that Merlwyb mod :D

[wilanserulia]

You know what, tumblr seems the perfect place to voice ramblings about my OCs, so maybe let's start with my FFXIV Warrior of Light, Wilan, whose story is actually deeply entwined with my other FFXIV OC Delen.

I'll try to be brief, even if this is just a basic outline, especially so from Stormblood onward. I'll throw in some photos to keep things interesting though.

Wilan Serulia hails from a small archipelago of islands off the coasts of Vylbrand, in the Rhotano Sea. Son of a fisherman, Wilan has never been quite fond of the family trade. When out at sea he only had eyes for the land he could see in the distance, desiring nothing more than to see what lies beyond the horizon.

When he came of age, against his parents' better judgement, he got rid of pretty much everything he owned to buy an old sword and a one-way journey toward Limsa Lominsa, where he would start to earn a living joining the ranks of people who tried to help their community while so much manpower had been diverted to oppose the Garlean invasion. In other words, he became an adventurer.

A few years laters, now with a good deal of experience under his belt, he eventually crossed paths with the Path of the Twelve. Minfilia Warde's organization looked to recruit people who had awakened to the Echo, and Wilan himself had received Hydaelyn's calling some time after beginning his new life. Through her he came in contact with the Circle of Knowing, led by Louisoix Leveilleur, who became a mentor for him, channeling his raw motivation and good intentions and giving him purpose.

Events set in motion by yet unknown forces would eventually lead to the Seventh Calamity, and despite his and the Circle's best efforts to stop Garlean legatus Nael van Darnus in his tracks, Wilan is unable to arrest Dalamud's descent.

At the culmination of the battle of Cartenau Flats, as Dalamud hatched to reveal the elder primal Bahamut, as even their last measure failed to contain the Calamity, Louisoix invoked Althyk's power to keep Wilan save in an aetherial slumber from which he would be restored no less than five years later.

Reawakening to a world scarred but in the process of healing, Wilan would soon get in contacts with his associates from the Circle of Knowing and the Path of the Twelve, now reunited under the new name of Scions of the Seventh Dawn. Together with them, he would successfully thwart the XIV Legion's attempt at conquering Eorzea and be acclaimed as a Hero.

In the following times, he would meet a refugee from one of the Garlean provinces by the name of Delen Aldanea. Having lost almost everything in her escape from Terncliff, including her own mother, Wilan decides to take the auri girl in to give her a place to stay and, at least on paper, a job, to aid her with immigration paperwork.

Not long after Wilan would find himself framed for the attempted murder of the Sultana of Ul'dah. Bitter and resentful, with apparently his whole homeland turning against him, Wilan and two other Scions sought political refuge within the walls of Ishgard where, unable to keep himself out of trouble, he ended up tangled with the city's Thousand Years War; he would eventually defeat Nidhogg and bring piece between dragonkind and mankind.

While his name back home had been cleared, Wilan didn't yet make a return. Some of the traumas he went through weighed down on him, and he felt like he needed to find a better way to deal with the ever-increasing expectations and the amount of dreams he found himself carrying on his back.

He accidentally came across the corpse of one of the so-called dark knights of Ishgard and came in possession of his Soul Crystal. The crystallized aether resonated with his soul in turmoil, recognized in him the desire to be a positive force in the world weighed down by unnecessary complications. It wishpered into his ears a way to deal with it all, to close his heart to the pain. To this day he couldn't be sure if the voice he heard wasn't entirely his own, either.

Either way, he gave his answer to that whisper. He would find a different way.

Eventually, however, he came across a man from Gyr Abania, going by the name of X'rhun Tia.

It had happened as he was coming in defense of a little girl, dashing in as a proper hero, not merely dispatching of the girl's assailants with ease but infusing in her hope by his very presence. After everything was settled, Wilan asked the man if he could teach him how to be like him.

X'rhun had recognized something in Wilan, something raw and unfocused but either way pure. He would accept his request, he'd teach him how to be a Red Mage, but as Wilan would soon find out his tutelage would involve more than a new fighting style. X'rhun was adamant that a proper hero needed to be refined and well groomed, to be well-read, to have proper manner, a sharp tongue, elegant motions. This and more would be part of his training, an intensive formative journey that would see Wilan fundamentally reconsider his way of life.

When he finally returned home, donning a bright red coat tailor-made for him by his friend in the Scions Tataru, Delen was shocked to find him so thoroughly changed. The man he remembered being genuine, spontaneous and simple to a fault now appeared cloaked in an aura of formal gestures and polished language so thick that she could barely see the person she remembered behind it.

Feeling something was terribly amiss, she insisted in trying to have him talk, and it took some time and a good deal of determination but she eventually got to the end of it: Wilan had ended up wrapping himself in a "hero persona" of sort, in a way to put some distance between himself and the horrors he had to deal with. He wore it like a mask over his eyes so that nobody could see his tears because, as he told her, "a smile better suits a hero". Her dedication to reach him, to let him open up about his traumas, to not let it all bottled inside, had managed to bring down one of the biggest walls they had built between themselves. For a night, for one night, they felt close, connected.

They would put distance back between themselves soon after. Wilan had always been very adamant on not allowing himself to become entangled in this kind of romantic bond, not with the role he was called to cover and the risks that came with it, now less than ever. She knew it, she understood it, she respected it. It didn't mean they could ignore what happened, however.

Some time later, as the winds carried the scent of a storm about to start on the Gyr Abanian front, they would meet again. They caught up on each other's latest events. They tried, almost failing, to keep out of each other's way, and then dancing dangerously close to the boundaries they had set up for themselves Delen asked Wilan if she could also teach her hot to fight, to defend herself, to be an adventurer like him. And, she left unsaid, to spend more time together.

War eventually broke out on the Gyr Abanian front. Wilan took part in it, and eventually coordinating a jointed rebellion he played a pivotal part in liberating Doma and Ala Mihgo alike. The empire had once more been pushed back into Garlemald.

When they'd meet again, as promised, Wilan would teach Delen how to fight, and figured she would be best suited to learn the arts of Red Magic like he did. They would indeed draw closer to each other, but in their renewed intimacy however they ended up crossing a line too many.

Worried by their increasingly close emotional attachment, Wilan chose to put even more distance between the two of them. He would himself be absorbed by his role as the Warrior of Light, leaving little room for his personal life. Having lost his closest emotional point of reference, he just carried on taking everything onto himself, hidden behind what little protection his "mask" offered, ultil a particularly traumatic event when he almost risked losing himself to endless Light really got to him.

Once back home he longed to hear Delen's voice, to tell her some of what happened, but she had gone on living her own life, putting him in the past, or so he figured from the way she answered. He decided not to bother her any longer and to just leave her alone. So it was with heart heavy with doubt and regret and crumbling under the weight of endless expectations placed on his shoulders, that he found himself facing the new advent of the Final Days.

This marked a particulary miserable point in Wilan's life, as he found himself trying to be a beacon of hope for everyone around him while wanting nothing else than to give in to despair, to crumble down under the weight and let it all happen, to stop this desperate struggle against the inevitable. And when even Hydaelyn dissipated, the near divine being who had chosen him as her mortal champion to begin with, he couldn't hold it together anymore. He broke.

As he re-emerged to the surface he found Delen looking for him. He had warned her to seek refuge in Sharlayan, so that she could leave the planet when he would inevitably fail to save the world. She understood at once something wasn't right, insisted with speaking with him in private, and they had barely closed the door to his room when Wilan broke down in tears. They spent the whole night talking. Tears, hugs, despair, their love, the meaninglessness of it all. It was rough, it was painful, but little by little he felt relieved. Healed.

She had invited him to consider, at least imagine, a future, a possibility when he'd be free of his mantle, free to pursue his own happiness. Maybe, together. He smiled bitterly. He would love that, he would want nothing else than to let himself drift away in the imagination of that future. But as he boarded the starship Ragnarok that day, Wilan knew in his heart he would have died out there, fighting to the bitter end.

That he got rescued at all was nothing short of a miracle. That his companions and friends managed to resuscitate him from the grievous injuries received from the battle could probably only be ascribed to the dynamis-charged air of the edge of the universe. It only really hit him that he was still alive when Delen flew halfway across Eorzea to see him, safely returned to their planet. Battered and bruised, only in that moment he felt a flame burning in his chest.

They kissed. Earnestly. Openly. Intensely. They didn't even need to say anything out loud.

Wilan's coat had been damaged beyond repair. Tataru had offered to repair it anyway, but he refused. For the last few years that red coat had been a symbol of his calling as the Warrior of Light. Now he was no longer Hydaelyn's champion, and peace had returned. Of course, he would rise to the occasion should the need arise. Of course he'll answer the call of everyone who will cry for help. Because that was his nature. But now, he was just another traveler.

As expected, life wouldn't exactly be quiet after this tremendous ordeal, but there was now a newfound peace in Wilan, an internal balance, and somebody who he finally decided to accept at his side.

Much of the story, from here on out, is still left unwritten. But despite any shadow that looms at the horizon, the new day's dawn shines bright.

[starstrider]

🎵🎶🎵🎶🎶

vgen | patreon | kofi

[blake-has-too-much-energy]

Prompt: Steer

“I’ve never gone sailing.”

Rei had woken a few hours prior, while the moon was still in the sky and the sun hadn’t yet started to come up. They had tossed and turned and tried to sleep, before eventually leaving their room in the little inn of the resort. They were barefoot and barely dressed and only carried with them one of their swords and one of their daggers, even though they would never really need those to begin with anyway. Everyone they passed simply ignored them, or left them alone – Rei wasn’t really sure and they didn’t really care, they weren’t paying attention to them.

A couple of hours later, Kriss came to find them.

The miqo’te man had woken to find Rei gone from their room next to his, and went to find them. He was supposed to be taking care of them, and make sure they actually relaxed on the short vacation that they’d earned. This little bit of peace that they’d nearly single-handedly brought to Eorzea. A little peace before they would inevitably be thrust back into the constant stress of carrying the world on their shoulders. He found them standing on the beach, with their feet in the tide. They’d put on shorts at least, but no shirt and no shoes, both staples for them.

He still wasn’t used to how scarred the small miqo’te was. He’d seen them shirtless fairly often. He’d seen them bloodied and broken and still fighting anyway. But he wasn’t used to the dark marks that marred their skin, left behind by... well Rei hadn’t told him yet.

They didn’t move when he walked up to them, and without a word he tossed the sweater he’d brought with him around their shoulders. “You’re going to get sick. It’s not that warm out yet.” Rei had told him fairly early on that they couldn’t feel temperatures. They stiffed when he first touched them, their hand tightened on the handle of their dagger that hung loosely on their left hip. “You should be resting.”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

Rei never slept very well. It was something that Tataru had told him when he went back to the Rising Stones with Rei the first time. They’d been listening when he was talking to the lalafell. Rei still didn’t know why any of them – the Scions, primarily, but everyone else too – cared enough about them to inform the first person they appeared to trust on their habits.

“Hm.”

Kriss let them go and simply stood beside them to stare out over the ocean in front of them. He loved the ocean. He’d grown up on it, he lived by it, he was a privateer for the Admiral for years before he was recruited to help Rei reach Leviathan. And then he witnessed the carnage that this dangerously thin miqo was capable of, and he never shied away. Maybe that’s how he earned their trust enough that they didn’t immediately gut him, and instead wrapped themself in his sweater.

“I’ve never gone sailing.”

And that’s how they got here.

It was a random statement, and Kriss didn’t know how Rei had gotten to that thought, but he listened nonetheless.

“One of my dad’s friends was a sailor, like you. But I was kidnapped before he could teach me.” Kidnapped. Rei had been kidnapped, and while they never told him what happened to them after that, he knew the brand on the side of their neck all too well. A slave brand. “After that I didn’t like boats anymore.”

The two of them lapsed into silence again for a little while after that. Kriss with his hands in his shorts pockets, and Rei with their body swallowed by the sweater much too large for them. They were hiding from him, he could tell. Their ears, as large and fluffy as they were, barely poked out from where they had the sweater pulled up around them. The white caught the light of the moon above them and almost glowed silver, just like their hair did when it was free.

Kriss reached over and dropped a hand on top of their head, where he rubbed between their ears in the way he’d discovered they liked by complete accident the second day of their vacation. “I’ll teach you tomorrow. I’ve got a buddy here with a skiff we can borrow for the afternoon.” Rei lifted their head slightly beneath his hand to peer up at him. Quiet gold found their way to his face, peering from beneath white lashes and bangs in their face. “But you have to at least try to get some more rest first. You can’t go sailing while you’re tired.”

Rei almost deflated at that, but they didn’t shrug away from him. “I’ll stay with you if it’ll help.”

A brief silence.

“Okay.”

Concession.

Rei went back to bed with Kriss after that, and they slept well passed sunrise, but not quite into the afternoon.

---

Kriss promised to bring the skiff back in the same condition, as he carried it over to place he said he’d meet Rei. It wasn’t so big that he couldn’t carry it on his own, but it was big enough that it would carry the two of them just fine. He wasn’t going to let Rei wander anywhere without him anyway. He found them on the end of the dock, dressed in a light shirt and a pair of swim shorts. They were sober too, which was good. He knew they ate something beside aether because he made them before he left them to get changed.

“Look at that, they know what a shirt is.”

Rei blinked at him, a tilt of their head, confused. “I never didn’t know what a shirt is.” Their brows furrowed. It was such an obvious thing to them.

“It’s a joke Rei.” Kriss laughed, more at their cluelessness than the actual joke itself. It was always fun to watch their confusion when he made a joke, or weren’t entirely serious. Rei was always so literal, it was nothing short of equal parts amusing and frustrating. “Ready to learn?”

Once they nodded in confirmation, he got the skiff set up and the sail lifted, talking them through the entire process and showing them how to tie things and where to set the sail. “Alright, c’mere.” He beckoned them over and picked them up by the waist, before he set them down on top of the boat. “Put your feet here, and your hands here.” He nudged their feet apart with his own, and placed himself behind them, his larger body around their own while he showed them how to stand. “To steer you just move this, ‘kay?” He gestured to where they had their hands, and then he moved it to catch the wind.

The skiff began its journey out to sea, and Rei squeaked at the sudden movement, startled. They hadn’t been on the ocean for anything other than Leviathan since they were taken from their home, it made sense that they would be surprised. But they weren’t afraid, as far as he could tell. Kriss spent the better part of the early afternoon showing them how to steer the skiff, and by the time they caught on they were smiling, just a little bit. He still hadn’t gotten them to laugh yet.

One day he would though. They’d learn to live if he had any say in it.

[redwayfarers]

Howlers and minstrels in the night

Fandom: FFXIV Ship: Nika/Ianera Characters: Nika Perseis (OC), Ianera Maliriq (OC) Words: 772 Rating: Gen Summary: It's Nika's first night in Camp Dragonhead and he feels very out of sorts. Ianera is there to take care of him. Author's note: Once more, I am very baby into this game and this is all prone to change if I see fit in the future. That being said, I like how this came out, so I'm posting it!

The wind howls. The night they seem to have chosen to arrive at Camp Dragonhead is particularly sharp and particularly cold and Nika can’t help but feel grateful at Lord Haurchefant’s offer of hearth, dinner and tea. Ianera agrees, nodding along to whatever he says, and sometimes, he wishes she’d speak up in his place. However nice Haurchefant may be, one nice Ishgardian can’t rub away all of the soreness of his nerves left by his countrymen. 

Well, Ishgardians and so many other things. It all almost makes him snap, but he restrains his anger. Yet he can’t guarantee that the smiles he threw their way were anything pleasant.

One thing at the time, though. They met the guy, they were led to their lodging for the night at the very least, they fell fast asleep from exhaustion on the road. At least, until Nika’s own head decided to torment him, thus promptly cutting his rest short. 

No, he doesn’t want to talk about it. Just like he doesn’t want to talk about the bodies in Vesper Bay. Just how he doesn’t want to talk about how he saw the Perseis surname in Adama Landama graveyard and he didn’t want to look at the name, for fear it's his father’s grave and that his father now saw him break like a child’s toy and that he’d laugh, even if he knows full well his father’s not buried in ass end of nowhere. 

Nope, he has no fucking desire to talk about things at all. 

And now he’s waiting for the sun to rise, lute in hand, while the wind howls around him like a mad wolf. He sees a guard shift at the gates. He holds the lute tighter, in lieu of squeezing it to his chest. His head and feet hurt, and he wants to cry. It will make his headache worse. He wants to cry anyway. His body feels like a prison and like something wants to claw out, but he blinks the tears away anyway. 

He holds the lute tighter. His nails, long overdue for a cut, press against the wood. Wind plays a horrible tune, plucking strings at will. It’s a cacophony and he almost regrets bringing it out with him, but it’s the only thing of comfort he can think of. It’s the only thing keeping him from breaking down again. 

Nika closes his eyes and wills all this shit away. 

“Why aren’t you asleep?” A somber, gentle voice rings against the racket of noise, and Nika audibly breathes out. With a sharp turn, he sees Nera wrap herself in a woolen coat Lord Haurchefant provided them with, oversized on her small body. 

“I.. I’m tired,” he says softly. There’s no reply for a long time; part of him thinks the wind swallowed it. It’s funny, how he was just about ready to scream at Ishgard lords only hours ago, but now his voice is drowned in the night. 

“It haunts me too,” Nera says as she steps out. Her words are small and shaky, yet Nika feels them like a blow. From afar, the night swallows her, but her eyes, silver and gold, breach the picture she presents. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he bites out. It’s harsh, it’s rough, but he can’t look her in the eye otherwise. 

“Go back to sleep, then,” she asks, makes a few steps forward. Blue, blue, all the blues of her hair and skin, like the waters of Lominsa, where his moms sleep. 

“Let me be, Nera,” he huffs, “I’m–” He takes a deep breath in. His eyes prickle and burn. “I’m just–” 

“It haunts me too,” she repeats. He feels the pressure of her forehead against his arm and the warm touch of her fingers on his hand. “Go back inside, Nika. Your fingers are cold.” 

“I’m tired, but I don’t want to fall asleep,” he admits and lowers his eyes to his feet. Shame burns like poison. 

“You don’t have to sleep if you don’t want to,” he can hear the frown in her voice, “but just come inside.” 

“It is freezing outside,” he agrees. Her fingers play with his, and he could just rest his head on hers if he leaned down far enough– “I– Alright. It’s cold and lonely outside.” 

Nera simply smiles against his arm. 

He does sleep that morning, against all earlier claims to not wanting to. He can blame it on his tired body, or the comfort of her embrace that he knows she needed too, but when he wakes up again, the wind doesn’t howl quite so loudly anymore.  

[fluffysilver]

Flufftober Day 2 - Family, friends, loved ones

“Do you think they’ll mind?” Horika-Re asked idly as he lounged on the upper balcony of the house, catching the late afternoon sunlight. 

“Who will mind what?” Davien asked, perched on the railing as he read a book and not - so - subtly kept an eye on his lover. He was still recovering from the Praetorium and Davien didn’t want him exerting himself. 

“Our sisters, with us getting married. Well… I know Wadjet won’t mind, I’m fairly sure she’s already picking out a suit for me to wear, with Neferseti’s help.” Despite her formal airs, ‘Seti was the fashionista of the family. She and Ekat got into esoteric discussions about fabrics, colours and styles that made Rika’s brain hurt just thinking about it.  

Davien snorted softly. “Chyn will be there right beside them, believe me. She figured out how I felt before I did.”

“She did?” 

“Right from the start, the night I decided to found the Free Company.” Davien’s tail flicked. “We were supposed to meet for dance practice and I completely forgot. She talked me into founding the Company when she heard you didn’t have one.” 

Rika rolled over onto his back and watched him. “I’m not sure when Wadjet figured it out. Probably before I did - she’s much wiser than I am about that kind of thing.” 

“So, no, I don’t think that they’ll mind.” Davien glanced down at the grounds laid out below them and a faint smile played on his features. “It’ll be nice, really. To have some more sisters.” 

“Not just them, either.” Rika rolled to his feet and stretched, then leaned over and wrapped his arms around Davien, nuzzling the soft dark hair between his ears. “We’re building a family for ourselves here, not just a group of sellswords. It’s not massive like some Free Companies, but it’s close and that’s what’s important.” 

“Hm.” Davien nuzzled him gently back. “I like that idea. Not bad for a couple outClan orphans, hmm?” 

“Not bad at all,” Rika agreed, and kissed him warmly. 

[vivielina]

I'm such a romantic and cheesy person but I can't help it okay I really love the whole idea of Ciel finding the man of her dreams *Doesn't know that yet* and finds him in trouble, rescues him and then helps nurse him back to help but finds out hes amnesiac!!!

Ahhh i love them so much! Caius and Ciel are just so cute together ajsdlfkjaslkfasjd!!!!

[lady-jay]

Day 9: Lend an Ear

Cross-posted on Ao3 under Blue and Silver Entry rating: T

“Ever miss it?”

The question is unexpected- an introspective thing suddenly broaching the darkened silence that has lingered since they doused the candles. Souji rolls onto his side to face his companion. The mattress needs restuffing, he thinks idly for the umpteenth time as his hip digs through the padding and into the wood beneath. Or perhaps he’ll convince Dacien to simply allow him to purchase a better made replacement.

“Do I ever miss what?” he asks for clarification, staring to where he knows the other’s face to be, despite that he cannot see it now.

Dacien shifts, his bare leg draping over Souji’s. It is too hot for blankets or anything nearer than this. The elezen’s skin is sticky with sweat, no different than Souji’s own. Skin slides against skin in a way that he once would have cringed from before he became accustomed to a far rougher life.

“What ye were before all this. Back when ye were jus’ a new thing, startin’ out, an’ no one knew yer name.”

Ironic, how Dacien seems to know exactly where his thoughts have been of late. After the Endsinger. After the End of Days. After Golbez and the 13th. What now? What could possibly be next for the vaunted Warrior of Light, savior of worlds? It’s a title he never wanted, but here he is. He considers the question quietly for a moment, listening to the waves against the hull and the softness of his lover’s breathing.

“More often, now,” he confesses, “It was easier to keep going when I had so little time to rest. It was always just on to the next thing…”

“An’ now ye have time to be nostalgic.”

Souji feels him lever up onto an elbow, his mass filling a different part of the space before him.

“Mm, I think so. I feel guilty, missing it.”

There is no judgement in Dacien. There never has been. Perhaps that was why it was so easy to love him within those first meetings. To trust him, despite his history of piracy. There are no expectations of anything extraordinary, no dangers of disappointment. The elezen huffs and long fingers brush over Souji’s head.

“No use feelin’ guilty, love. Yer life’s been a turbulent thing- no shame in wishin’ for a time when it wasn’t. We all do. Get through the storm and can’t help lookin’ back, at the way things were before.”

His touch moves to Souji’s cheek, lightly caressing over the sharp bone just beneath his eye. The samurai lets himself relax at the touch, at the sensation of familiarly calloused fingers on his skin.

“The world’s saved- a few times over. Ye can rest now. An’ if the storm ever revisits ye, ye can tell me ‘bout it.”

Ah, so this is what this is. Dacien is ever observant and direct, but still has trouble with what he might think are the softer aspects of a relationship. An offer of support, an encouragement to move on from the long run of crisis after crisis.

“What brought this on?” he asks softly.

The pirate huffs again, fingers tracing over his jaw now.

“Ye’ve been quiet- more’n usual. Been starin’ at the horizon without really seein’ it. Ye’ve got wanderlust now that it’s all over. So it got me wonderin’ if ye missed it- jus’ bein’ a small fish seein’ where yer feet took ye. Now yer a big fish, and ye got no direction for the moment…so I guess yer back to where ye started, in a way.”

Souji’s lips turn up in a small smile. He catches Dacien’s hand, tugging it down to where he can press a short kiss to his knuckles. The elezen doesn’t stop him, doesn’t even give the surprised grunt that had once followed Souji’s little shows of affection.

“I am. And what about you, Dacien? Do you also have wanderlust?”

He can picture the other’s grin, even if he can’t see it. The way it slashes across his thin lips like and flash of a blade, teeth bared and sharp eyes narrowing further, unearthly blue glinting against the grey of his skin.

“Always,” Dacien’s leg sides to wrap around his own, tightening to keep him in place, “Want to wander t’gether?”

The small smile widens and he presses another kiss to his lover’s fingers.

“Always,” he repeats, “We’ve yet to be on an adventure together.”

“S’ppose we’ll need t’ change that.”

Souji feels the air shift again as Dacien settles himself, apparently ignoring the way the new proximity turns the heat sweltering.

“We will,” he breathes, releasing Dacien’s hand to stifle a yawn, “We’ll talk more in the morning.”

An affirmative rumble is his only reply. Souji is still smiling as he lets himself drift at last. He is fortunate, he thinks, to have Dacien. Observant and pragmatic, perhaps one of the few who truly understands his need to constantly be on the move. And certainly one of the few willing to listen without shying away or expecting anything of him.  

[toadeyes-miqote]

Squish that cat

when you need him not want him to run off for a moment. Squish that cat so the vet says. (Mossy rock has a slope)

the big guy is a little harder to squish so hug instead

Squish that kouhai and run away before she kicks your behind!

Lean on that cat boy's shoulder a bit like he hope you would sometimes. And squish that cat boy. Not shove that cat boy

I would need to run dungeon for Thancred. Minions are tougher to mess with

[tekstelart]

Found family

[amons-hat-enthusiast]

FFXIV Polyamory Week 2024: Day 4 - Outfit swaps

I'd say Matheli's partners look better Matheli's outfits than Matheli looks in theirs lol

I can also definitely see Matheli jokingly stealing Merlwyb's coat from time to time and wearing it around the house until she needs it

Late posting again - fell asleep, oopsie 😅

[wilanserulia]

It took me a while to write, but since my outline of Wilan's story was so well received (thank you!) I finally got around to writing an synopsis of my other FFXIV OC, Delen. Again this will just be a very short rough rundown, but if what you've read of my little blorbos sounds interesting to you consider checking out my ongoing collection of fanfics involving them, Tales from Beyond the Horizon, especially if you're into introspection.

Delen Aldanea was born in a Garlean occupied Terncliff, the former capital of what once was the nation of Werlyt. Her father had been conscripted shortly after her birth and would find death while being forced to take part in the push to conquer Eorzea, which left Delen's mother to grow her by herself.

Growing up under the occupation meant the young Delen received a formal Garlean education, as part the edict mandated by the regent Gaius van Baelsar. She is versed in Literature and visual arts of the Empire as well as its History, at least the emperor-approved version of events.

Being educated with what amounted to blatant propaganda though didn't quite manage to win the girl's loyalty, nor that of many of her peers brought up outside of one of Gaius's notorious orphanages. Baelsar's soldiers enforced a strict curfew and were particularly plased to punish those stepping out of line. Any word of dissent, any tale pertaining to how life used to be better before the occupation, had to be exchanged in hushed whispers.

In this hostile environment, Delen quickly learned not to draw any unnecessary attention upon herself. She was a calm, quiet and unassuming girl, and despite having a sharp mind and strong opinions she had learned the value of biting her tongue and keeping quiet. She would often spend her days listening to the radio, or looking out at sea from one of the city's many vantage points, cradled by the sound of the waves clashing against the cliffs.

Then, Baelsar fell.

The news of the Black Wolf's demise during his campaign to conquer Eorzea reached Werlyt like a shockwave, throwing everything into chaos. Whispers and rumors celebrated a mysterious figure known as the Warrior of Light as their benefactor, and while even catching glimpses of such debates would have warranted extensive punishment from the guards, in the wake of Baelsar's death the entire administrative system of the imperial province was scrambling to get things under control, to appoint the next Legatus of the XIVth legion.

For many, that was the chance to escape.

The smugglers flocked attracted by the carcass of Baelsar faster than any humanitarian help could. The chaos wouldn't last long, and despite their prices being outrageous, many werlytians preferred to pay them rather than risk losing their chance.

Delen's mother was one such people. She got word that the smugglers would be rounding up people by a beach below the cliffs in a few nights, and she and her daughter got rid of everything they could sell to put together enough money to afford the journey. Their house, their furnitures, their good clothes, whatever few jewelry they had, even their red hair they sold to the garlean wigmakers.

And they barely put together enough money for one.

Some time later, still in shock and barely aware of her surroundings, Delen disembarked from a boat onto the coasts of Eorzea. Around her there were plenty of voices, many of them in languages from the colonies in the far east she couldn't recognize, but none of it seemed to get through to her. As the other travelers, weary and tired from the long journey, started boarding caravans for one last stretch toward Ul'dah, Delen wandered off, sat on the edge of a dock and stood there, looking out at the sea, crimson from the sunset, gazing into the distance as if looking for all that she left beyond the horizon.

She didn't know it. As the night came to board the boat that would smuggle them to open waters, Delen was shocked to see her mother stay behind, to be denied boarding.

She choked off a scream as she heard the guards catching her on the shore and executing her on the spot.

It was there that she was noticed by an adventurer, there to help the refugees in that step of their journey. He approached her, introduced himself as Wilan, a name that made her heart skip a beat, but she would otherwise remain silent. Determined to reach out to her, unable to convince her to rejoin the others, and somehow acting as if he was eerily aware of the tragedies that had befell her, the man offered Delen a place to stay at his home despite barely knowing her, and even to "employ" her as an assistant to aid her in her immigration paperwork.

Not too long after, signatures were placed, and he brought her home, in Vylbrand. However Delen didn't feel rejoiced by this turn of events.

Once alone, once that house's door had closed behind them, she lashed out at him, violently lamented her misfortunes, of having attracted the attention of none other than the Warrior of Light, the killed of Gaius van Baelsar himself, a person of considerable power she couldn't oppose, somebody who abused her weakness to make her his slave.

That his country's supposed benefactor would turn out to be yet another jailer, that was too much for her. She finally broke her silence and lashed out at him.

Wilan, who had spectacularly failed to view things from her point of view, tried in vain to tell her she had the wrong of it. She refused to listen, it all appeared clear to her without needing words to muddle things. She locked herself in a room.

That night, they both had a lot to think about, and while going over the events of the day and some of his belongings, she started to warm up to the idea that maybe he wasn't the monster she believed him to be.

She woke up the morning after to Wilan's apologies. He had been too impulsive, done things without thinking. He'd provide a meal for her, and then he would make her paperwork void so that she'd have no bonds with him, and in that case he'd try to recommend her some other place to go where she could find work.

But she had also made up her mind from the night before. Now that things were calmer, she could indeed see this Wilan, Baelsar's grandiose dethroner, as a simple but well-meaning man.

She ended up agreeing to his offer, on the condition that she could actually earn her pay.

When Wilan had offered her to stay at his house, he mentioned it'd be empty anyway as he would often not be home. And true to his word, shortly after having made sure Delen was set up and indipendent, he disappeared again on another journey across Eorzea.

The solitude however didn't bother Delen, who instead was glad of having a chance to enjoy the quiet, to process her own traumas. She would often take long walks by the cliffs, the sound of the sea being one of the few things that would give her comfort, that would remind her of home.

One day Wilan came back, but only because his duties had conducted him back to Vylbrand. The Primal Leviathan was on the rise, and the Admiral planned to board Wilan onto a raft and send him out to the open sea. Delen protested for the absurdity of that plan, and was shocked to see a look of resigned acceptance on Wilan's face. She insisted on waiting for his return and, sure enough, when he was rescued he had been beaten within an ilm of death.

She would spend the following days caring for him, nursing him back to health, despite being many times reminded that she shouldn't consider that one of her duties. She was just too angry to do otherwise, having taken the measure of that man and seen him abused like that.

She wouldn't leave him side until he was restored back to health, but this prolonged intimacy would sow the seeds of a deeper affection between them.

Then, one day, coming back from the city with fresh produce she bumped into a group of adventurers and, in particular, a miqo'te girl by the name of D'jihlli Rhez.

In the following months, Wilan would keep coming and going from home, until one day a rumor returned in his stead. A rumor that he had plotted to kill Ul'dah's Sultana.

She refused to believe it. She couldn't, she knew Wilan, and either the rumors were wrong or there was a lot more to this story. She insisted on going on with her life, but even though he was only sporadically home, that house already felt somewhat emptier.

Having recently moved with her brother from Gridania to open a bar and having recognized in the melancholic eyes of that quiet girl a kindred spirit, D'jihlli insisted on befriending the auri girl. With much effort she convinced her to let her be introduced many of aspect of the modern adventurer's lifestyle. She lended her some of her earnings to let herself buy some new, trendier clothes, she invited her to hang out and chat at her brother's bar, and even to take part in Limsa Lominsa's night life.

After months of barely having made any progress, of having landed on Vylbrand's shores but never having really moved from there, eventually Delen finally managed to start like she belonged there. She had a friend, and she had started living her life again.

Then, the day came where she could find out by herself. Wilan had send word to Delen that he was coming home.

Wilan became part of their conversations pretty soon. D'jihlli, despite her lively and outgoing personality was actually a good observer, and noting the frequency with which she mentioned the hyuran man she started to suspect there were feelings between them. When asked directly about it, however, she denied.

D'jihlli figured she probably hadn't even realized it herself.

The man had taken a protracted absence, tangled in Ishgard's Thousand Years war and delaying his return even after his name back home had been cleared, but that still failed to explain his greatly different appearance. Delen could hardly see any trace of the man she once knew, cloaked as he was within an aura of formal gestures and polished language.

But she was determined to see through it. She sat him down with him, ale in hand, and wouldn't give up until she found out what was wrong.

As it would turn out, proven by the many traumas he had been forced to endure and crumbling below the weight of the expectations placed upon him, Wilan had created an "heroic persona" of sorts to wear like a mask in a hope to shield his true, much more frail self.

She managed to let him talk, and in doing so she had crossed one of the biggest boundaries they had between themselves. Despite neither of them having recognized it before, tonight they close like never before.

They felt connected.

And yet things certain feelings couldn't be just folded and put back into a heart.

Just for one night, at least.

That couldn't last. Wilan wouldn't allow it. He had always been very adamant about never getting tangled in a romantic relationship, as he believed it could never work with the role he had to play.

Delen knew it. She respected it. In the end, she even accepted it.

Luckily they would have to part ways for the time being, as Delen, having put together almost all her courage to board a ship again for the first time ever sicne she got to Vylbrand, had decided to finally agree to D'jihlli's offer to go for a tour of Eorzea's city-states.

Her first stop is, of course, in Vesper Bay. Now a couple years removed from her original arrival on the distant shores of Eorzea, Delen can't help picturing herself back in that moment, seeing herself as that young, small, weakened and lonely girl who, like in that song from the radio, was looking for her home beyond the horizon.

On her journey she would see firshand the many wonders of Eorzea, but also the many refugees camps, brimming with people escaped from the colonies in far greater numbers for the city-states of Eorzea to accomodate, crossing the Shroud after being denied stay, wasting away outside Ul'dah's walls.

Her journey across the realm she now calls home gives her the motivation to take up arms and a battle training as well. She wants to be an adventurer, like the most important people in her life are.

And who better to teach her than Wilan? He's the strongest fighter she knows of.

But, of course, it would also be a chance for them to spend time together.

The two of them had an understanding that a relationship wasn't going to happen. They couldn't, however, just turn off the feelings they had for each other. Wilan gave her a Soul Crystal, trained her to be a Red Mage, and in the following months they grew close together, their affection finding another way to bring them closer despite the barricades Wilan had raised around himself.

Until, however, he realized they grew too close. And he got scared.

The both of them burned by the rejection, they took some time apart from each other. Encouraged by her friend Jill, Delen decided a change of air was what she needed, and the two of them decided to visit Ishgard, the city state that only recently ended its long isolationism and had opened its gates.

There, Delen would get accidentally tangled in a covert operation from the Redbills, whom she eventually decides to help. Her contribution would prove to be decisive for the resolution of their problems, and Leofard made her into a honorary Redbill and, as a more tangible gesture of appreciation, he gifted Delen one of their Manacutters.

The next time they met, it would be in a liberated Terncliff. Despite still bearing the scars from the prolonged occupation, the city by the cliffs was still home for Delen. She let Wilan accompany her around the city, dared briefly holding his hand. Tears shone in her eyes as she showed him the promenade from which she would look at the sea, down the cliffs.

She hadn't heard from Wilan in months, when he asked to talk to her. Their meeting was tense, awkward, somewhat cold. He however wanted to inform her in person: the Eorzean Alliance was pushing forward to liberate Werlyt.

But, as it would turn out, Baelsar was still alive, and he was collaborating.

She was home. However, politics had put Baelsar in charge of the newly liberated city, much to Wilan's protestations. They both agreed that for the time being it'd be better if Delen didn't move back to the city.

That was alright for her. What she wanted right now was to travel.

When she managed to see him, cornering him in his own room at the Studium, he was a wreck of a human being. Trembling, barely holding it together, he broke down in tears barely a moment after she closed the door of that room behind herself. She had seen the pressure he had been under before, but she had no idea just how bad it had gotten in the latest months, and he was facing it all alone, refusing to confide even in his closest friends, for fear that showing weakness to them might deprive them of a symbol of hope, and take them one step closer of giving in to despair.

And some months later, she would depart for another journey, although not under the best of circumstances. Wilan had sent word to be in Sharlayan, he wouldn't say much on the linkshell but he said it'd be safe here, she'd be able to quickly escape if things went wrong.

It would be some time before she had a chance to talk with him in person. The Warrior of Light had been running left and right across the world in the face of imminent disaster.

She spent that night with him, caring for him, listening to his worries, his fear, letting him vent his frustrations, his terrors. Encouraging him to indulge in a little bit of hope, in considering that not everything was lost like he thought, in imagining what he would like to do when everything would be over. When the world would be safe and there'd be no more need of Hydaelyn's champion.

Maybe they could be together, she dared to suggest.

He weeped. That would be nice, he dared to dream.

And then they departed. She saw him, leave the planed on a star vessel. She couldn't do much more than to pray for his safe return.

He did. The starship Ragnarok made its way back to Hydaelyn, welcomed by triumphant celebrations. He called her, on their linkpearl, made sure to let her know he was alright. The starship dropped the heroes of the planet off in Mor Dhona, and hopping on her manacutter she flew halfway across the continent to meet him there.

She found him, on the balcony of his room.

She all but jumped off her manacutter. He grabbed her.

And they kissed.

They didn't need to say anything else.

The world was saved, after all. The boundaries between them, removed. Maybe some day the need for a hero would arise again but for now, for now he was just another traveler.

And it was high time, Delen thought, that they had a vacation together.

From here on out, much of the story is still unwritten. But despite any shadow that might loom on the horizon, the new day's dawn shines bright.

[fisheem4mmal]

Completed commissions recently! Thank you for the support!

I've gotten sick a lot due to the weather here while working on these so extra extra thanks to the commissioners here for being so patient with me ;v;

My commissions are currently open btw! If curious, feel free to visit my commissions info site !

I will make a separate post when I have the time with more links to my other socials to pin for easy access ;v;/

[blake-has-too-much-energy]

Prompt: Horizon

The entirety of the previous week it snowed. It snowed and snowed and snowed. It was more snow than Rei had ever seen before. They’d been to Coerthas a small handful of times, to meet with the Lord Commander once or twice, and with Haurchefant another few. But on all the days they made their way through the mountains, it hadn’t snow this much. In the last week they’d seen more snow than they thought was possible, and no one had allowed them to go outside without a thick coat. It was abysmal to say the least, being trapped inside the Fortemp’s Estate, locked in the building.

At least they had a sparring ring in the basement that Rei made liberal usage of with the house guards, and with Kriss and Haurchefant. Edmont’s other sons had yet to take to them, but that never really mattered to Rei. They were here because there was no where else they could be. They’d been chased out of Thanalan, and couldn’t return to the Rising Stones. The Scions were scattered, and only Alphinaud and Tataru remained with the warrior of light.

Alphinaud, Tataru.. and Kriss. But Kriss wasn’t a Scion. He’d helped them flee in the first place, but he’d never declared himself one of them.

They still didn’t understand why he’d helped them.

Rei paced the length of their bedroom. Their footsteps were nearly silent, their tail swishing behind them anxiously, and their ears flicked about at every sound they heard through the estate. A few servants stoking the fires through the building, a couple of cats they could hear chasing one another through the halls. They could hear Emmanelain snoring two rooms over too.

So of course they heard the familiar footsteps headed from his room halfway across the estate to Rei’s. He wasn’t particularly light-footed, but that’s what came with being a hulking mass like him. They didn’t pay the sound of him any mind while they paced, fingers clawing at their forearm, eyes fixed to the floor in front of them. Their movements came to a complete halt when they heard the light knock on their door; a knock that didn’t come with a question, and instead the door was pushed open with that knock as the only warning.

Kriss held the door open and looked at them from the doorway, watching them while they stared at the floor. Their arm was bleeding from where their claws dug into their flesh. They couldn’t feel it, but they could smell the blood.

“Come with me.”

Kriss turned away then, and tucked his hands back in his pockets, heading down the hall and leaving the door to their chambers wide open. Rei watched him go for a second before they took off after him, the door left open as they jogged to catch up with him. “Where are we going?” Rei didn’t know what he was thinking. He wasn’t that easy for them to understand yet, with their limited exposure to one another before they made the trip to Ishgard.

“Kitchen, then outside. It finally stopped snowing.” Thankfully he was often rather forward when they asked him what was on his mind. Rei was dense, but he was forthcoming, and that made it easy for them to talk to him. Rei followed after him, his pace slowed enough for them to be able to keep up. He was as tall as the elezen that they two had come to live with, and like them, he slowed down for their shorter companion.

When the two made it to the kitchens, he snagged a roll from the counter from the previous nights dinner and bit into it while he looked around for a cloth and a set of bandages, of which he found rather quickly. He sat Rei down on one of the countertops and silently went to word making sure their arm was bandaged. “I know you can’t feel it, but pay attention.”

Was he scolding them? Rei tilted slightly to the side while they watched his face. Odd-coloured eyes were focused on the scratches on their arm, and the bloody fingernails that left them behind. When he was done, he stepped away from them and walked over to the back door that left the estate. “Shoes.” He told them while he pulled on his own boots and one of the coats hanging by the door. Their things had been by the front door the last they checked, hadn’t they? Rei couldn’t be sure, but they were fairly certain they hadn’t been here, where they were next to his.

“You’re not going to get in trouble for taking me out are you?” Rei asked while they pulled on and laced their own boots. They were still dressed in light cotton pants and a short-sleeved shirt, and aside from their boots and the coat Haurchefant had had made for them, Rei wasn’t dressed for outside.

Kriss huffed in amusement, and when they looked up at him, there was a smirk on his mouth. “You say that like they would say anything at all.” But wouldn’t they? Rei’s brows furrowed in curiosity. But they didn’t question it anyway, because he dropped a hand to their lower back and nudged them towards the door. “Better run before we get caught, eh?” Rei went from perplexed to excited in a matter of seconds, and they dashed out the back door into the yard outside of the estate. Unsurprisingly to him, Rei walked along the top of the snow as if they weighed nothing, without even a footprint left behind. “This way.”

Rei turned and followed as he walked through the snow around the side of the building to the front of the estate. The majority of the paths were shovelled, and when they came out to the rest of the Silent Vigil there was almost no snow at all. The warrior of light took in a deep breath of fresh air, their cheeks and nose already flushed with the cold despite the coat wrapped around them.

His hand never left their back.

The two walked away from the Fortemp’s estate, down the steps. They didn’t go very far, just to the edge of the balcony overlooking the abyss that surrounded the city. They hadn’t been out here yet. The week since their arrival had been full of nothing but snow and being trapped indoors. Their initial tour of the city had nothing of interest in it, and anything that could have interested them had been pushed off when Haurchefant insisted they stay inside until the blizzard stopped.

Now it was done, and Rei’s hands touched the railing as they leaned a little further to look down into the fog.

“I thought it would do you some good to get out. You don’t seem like the type to like being inside all the time.”

“You’re not wrong. Ever since I got free, I’ve spent as much time outside as possible. I want to see everything I can, since I couldn’t before. That’s why I was going to be an adventurer to begin with. Momo said I’d be able to travel, and meet people, and see things, and learn about the world by doing that. Then I ate Ifrit, and everything spiralled out of control. I was hoping that I’d get to do that adventuring thing after the banquet but...”

He knew where they were going, and his hand rubbed up and down the lower half of their back. He could feel the tension in them, even if he wasn’t looking to see it. “Life is like that sometimes. All you can do is make the most of it. Like right now.” He leaned over and touched the first finger of his free hand to their chin, lifting their head to look away from the fog beneath them, and instead towards the mountains in front of them. When he let go, he pointed to a valley in between the mountains. “Look over there.”

Rei glanced at him in confusion, before they followed his finger to where he was pointing. The sky was lightening by now, but they hadn’t thought they’d be able to see anything with the clouds still hanging in the sky above them. Instead, when they looked out over the horizon, they could see the beginnings of the sunrise between the mountains. The sky that low wasn’t covered in clouds, and it was far away, but they could still see it.

Their eyes never left it after that, watching the sunrise with him. “My mom used to watch the sunrise every day. Dad would get up to watch it with her too.” A little tidbit of Rei’s life before they were kidnapped. “I try to watch it when I can, but it wasn’t very often I could until recently.” Their hands loosened their grip on the railing and they leaned slightly into Kriss’ side. “I want to watch more of them. At least one everywhere I go.”

“I’ll make sure that happens.”

[redwayfarers]

logged into xiv for the first time in a hot second and the soft hyur ship feelings resurfaced like a tidal wave

[goburinboo]

"Win or lose, the path you walk leads only to oblivion." "The better path leads you here. To me."

Shadowbringers will forever be my favorite expansion, hands down, Natsuko Ishikawa is a literary genius.