#she's only had one other crush other than aymeric

[myreia]

Sketches of Times Lost

Day 09: Lend an Ear

at long last, aymeric hears from the one dear to him. aymeric x female warrior of light, mentions of past aymeric/estinien. set during stormblood. written for ffxivwrite2024. rated: teen words: 1617 ao3 link

It is two bells to noon when the linkpearl hums.

At first Aymeric thinks he must be imagining it. The delicate thing has been dormant for weeks, ever since Aureia left on her journey. She was so flushed and bright-eyed when she gifted it to him, pushing it eagerly into his hands on the day she left for Gyr Abania. A token, a private link to keep them connected while she journeyed away from Ishgard.

They have only used it three times. Once when she arrived in Castrum Oriens. A second when she reached Rhalgr’s Reach. And finally, the third not long after the Resistance was raided. She was so silent then, saying little more than a word or two. He prattled on, filling the silence with arbitrary small talk and unimportant politics and Emmanellain’s latest tomfoolery, until she finally blurted it out. She was injured. Badly. And she wished to return to Ishgard.

She was coming home from her foray too soon, bruised and bandaged and broken.

Her injuries healed quickly under the chirurgeons’ care—she had survived much worse, Alphinaud said—but her spirit remained crushed. This was no simple taste of defeat; there was a hollowness inside her that was eating her alive, and gods be damned she could not speak of it. He could not bring himself to ask what happened that horrible, horrible day. He knew the small details, of course—the burning base, the Imperial destruction, the tally of the injured, the tally of the dead.

Zenos yae Galvus stalking the battlefield like a demon summoned from the Void.

Aureia’s silence was uncanny. Unsettling. This was not the first time she had fallen in combat, nor would it be the last. She is no stranger to defeat. And yet the Garlean prince left an undeniable mark on her. Even after her recovery and the plan to travel to Othard was put in place, she felt distanced. Faded. Like an autumn leaf torn from its branch, falling away from the place it called home.

The linkpearl hums again, the delicate white bead pulsing faintly with light.

Aymeric stares at it, certain now that he is not making it up. He wets his lower lip and puts down his pen, stretching out a hand. His fingers hover above the linkpearl’s box, its home since he removed it from his ear. Out of the way, but not forgotten. Housed safely and waiting, ready for when she saw fit to call. There was no expectation for her to call right away. The journey to Othard is long, and the seas are perilous. She has more important things to do than to worry about calling him, just as he does.

His gaze flicks to the chronometer above his mantlepiece. Then back to the linkpearl. The day is still young. A fire crackles in the hearth, staving away the early cold that creeps in through the windows overnight. He returned from morning prayers not that long ago. A pile of paperwork is stacked upon his desk, and this only matters so urgent he must deal with them at home. There will be others waiting in his office at the Congregation of Our Knights Most Heavenly.

That really is a mouthful, you know. Has no one thought of renaming it to something maybe under seven syllables?  

The memory murmurs at the edges of his mind, softened by the haze of reminiscence. They were lying in bed, perhaps. His bed—or was it hers? No. It must have been his. The sun was too bright that morning, flooding through tall windows. She sat up with the sheets pulled around her, her hair a mess, creases in the corners of her eye, all but glowing in that sun.

The linkpearl hums once more.

Aymeric shoves his seat back and rises to his feet, seizing the linkpearl and putting it in his ear.

“Aureia,” he breathes.

Nothing at first. Then—

“Hi.”

Her voice is clearer than expected. He closes his eyes and presses a hand to his chest, as if the pressure can soothe his aching heart. “You called.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner.”

A pause. Faint music echoes from her side, too distant for him to make much sense of. Harmonies played on instruments unfamiliar to his ears. Where is she now? How far has she gone? Has she made it safely? Is she hurt? Halone above, he does not know what he will do if this is how he discovers she has been gravely wounded again— 

“We’re in Hingashi.”

“Hingashi?” His eyes widen. “Then you—”

“Made it, yes.”

He breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank Halone. Your journey was uneventful, I take it?”

“An incident with pirates.” He can envision the playful smile on her lips from her tone alone. “Nothing we couldn’t handle. I suppose one could say Alisaie taught them a lesson or two. Or four.”

“Would that I could have seen that.”

“Would that you could have come with us.” She pauses, the score of the city shifting behind her. The instruments have faded now, but he can hear the rhythm of a busy street, the cacophony of distant gossip. Is she outside? Sitting by a window? If only his tongue wasn’t so tied, she could paint the picture for him. “I think you would like it here in Kugane. The city is wonderful.”

“Any snow?”

“No.” He’s certain he can hear her grinning. “Tataru took us on a tour of the markets. And the tea houses, Aymeric! The tea here… I can’t describe it. I hate to say it, but it puts your Ishgardian brews to shame.”

“I would very much like to argue that. Ishgardians pride ourselves on our tea, you know.”

“You could, but I don’t think you’ll win.”

“That’s hardly fair. I taught you everything you know.”

“And now I have surpassed you.”

He chuckles, a soft smile spreading from ear to ear. Abandoning his desk, he pads across his office and slows to a halt by the hearth, watching the flames dance. It wasn’t so long ago that she was here, curled up on the couch. Her favourite coat—a red leather duster—is still here, hung over the back. “Then I look forward to this tea sparring match upon your return,” he says, warming his hands above the fire. The chronometer ticks, the second hand moving determinedly forward. “Shall you put it in your calendar or shall I?”

“Mm. I think we can think of better things to do than to spar over tea.” Her voice drops to a murmur, low and husky, thick with suggestion. It’s surprisingly forward of her, considering their lack of contact over the past weeks. Or is that another thing he is imagining? “Did you know they have public baths here? Hot springs. Perhaps there are more similarities between Ishgard and Hingashi than we thought. Just like the mountains. They’re beautiful here, Aymeric. I don’t know if I there will be a chance to visit before we move on, but I can see them from my window before the sun sets too far.”

His throat constricts, his breath shallow. “Is the sun setting now?” he asks, leaning a shoulder against the hearth.

“Yes. It’s just gone below the horizon.”

“And it is morning here.”

A pause. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think… I can call again later. If you’re busy—”

“No, no. Please.” He exhales a long breath and rests his forearm along the mantlepiece, his fingers tapping the wood near the chronometer. “It’s good to hear your voice. More than I can say.”

Another pause. “I’m attuned to the aetheryte here now, you know. I could slip away. Come see you in person.” Though there is hopefulness in her voice, it isn’t as much a question as it is a daydream. One where the weight of nations doesn’t weigh on their shoulders. One where their names and faces are unknown. One where he isn’t the Lord Commander and she isn’t the Warrior of Light.

“It would attract too much attention to receive a visitor all the way from Kugane,” he says softly. “I cannot guarantee there wouldn’t be talk, and any talk can find its way back to the Empire. Best stay discreet.”

“I know, I… I miss you. I wish I could see you.”

“But I can hear you. That is more than enough.”

She falls silent. A distant rush of wind—a breeze blowing by her window, perhaps?—and he can hear the faint trail of music once again. “I should let you go,” she murmurs. “Let you get back to work. And I should go to bed. It’s been a long day.”

“Aureia—”

“Yes?”

He flips the chronometer around, pushing it face-down into the mantlepiece. “Stay with me a while?”

She doesn’t answer. In the uncertain space between breaths, he wonders if he is about to find the answer to the question that has haunted him for weeks. How did a Garlean prince—however ferocious—shake her so badly that their relationship feels uneasy? Have they reached that impossible place he fears the most? The immutable point where they begin to break apart, slowly but surely moving away from one another. It has happened before. He was young and foolish when he let Estinien into his heart. Has he learned anything since? Or is she destined to meet a similar end?

There is something about these warriors his heart chooses—bound to wander like distant stars, while he is ever bound to Ishgard.

Aureia’s voice resounds in his ear, warm and firm and with such tenderness he is reminded why exactly he loves her. “I would like that.”

[the-rogue-mockingjay]

6 + 10 for the wol questions 🥺

ty gigi!! /dote 🩷

6. how does your wol feel about romance? are they a hopeless romantic, waiting for The One, or are they more casual? do they believe in soulmates?

O'ravi has some mixed feelings on it lol. In her youth she was something of a hopeless romantic, though it wasn't something she actively searched for (her priorities were more on traveling and learning every piece of music, art, and folklore she could get her hands on). She's always wanted a good, solid relationship, but she also hasn't considered it something attainable for most of her life tbh. She also just never really met anyone she had a connection with/felt attracted to (she's ace and autistic so it's a double whammy of not only are such feelings extremely rare, it's super difficult for her to identify what those feelings are when she has them ldkjfhdkjg).

Her feelings for Haurchefant had started shifting into the romantic in the time leading up to the Vault but she didn't recognize it until. Well. 🥲It was too late. She'd had a very fleeting like 3-day crush on Aymeric when she met him in ARR but after the initial 😳💕 he was just an ally/friend to her. She did eventually fall in love with Aymeric for real (in the days after the Royal Menagerie to be specific; it had been building for a while), and it tore her to shreds inside because she felt that even just being friends with him was putting his life in danger, by virtue of the death and chaos that follows her, Twelve FORBID she became romantically involved with him- in her mind, that'd be no different than going and personally shooting him dead fldgjkhfdkjgh. She didn't stop believing that until after the ENW finale, when she was finally, decisively free of her fate.

She wholeheartedly believes in soulmates, but not in the romantic sense, necessarily; her definition of it is someone who you will reunite with and love in every lifetime, regardless of the type of that love. The list of people that she considers soulmates includes Themis, Aymeric, Haurchefant, Hythlodaeus, and Emet-Selch. Zenos goes on that list too depending on the day, other days she hates him and finds him repulsive lfkjghfdjkgh. Regardless of how she feels, she fully expects to see him in every lifetime from here out, though. She has very mixed feelings about that.

10. how does your wol sleep? very light? very heavy? do they need a specific item to fall asleep, or does it take them forever? where do they prefer sleeping?

O'ravi's a very light sleeper, always has been, and she hates sleeping alone (her tribe doesn't do that, they typically prefer to share space or sleep in sort of cuddle piles if the temperature gets low enough where that's an option). When she first left home and began traveling Eorzea alone, it was a huge adjustment. She's also always been someone who dozes off for 5-10 minutes in the weirdest places (a la those pics of actors sleeping between takes in random nooks on movie sets), and now that she has fibromyalgia and chronic fatigue post-ENW, she's doing this more than ever. Catch her taking cat naps in the sun in between Dawntrail MSQ objectives 😂

After Operation Archon, she started getting nightmares on a regular basis, and this just continually got worse over time. I think she also struggles with insomnia, the intensity of which varies but was worst during Endwalker and Stormblood. Now, a year or two post-ENW, she still has these problems (and will for the rest of her life), but they're semi-manageable.

Her favorite place to sleep is cuddled up to Aymeric 🥹 she unofficially moved in with him a long time ago (sometime between Final Steps of Faith and Post-Dragonsong MSQ) and originally had her own room, but after ENW his room became her room too and it's probably the place she feels safest tbh

[pre-dt wol asks]

[guardian-angelxiv]

how does your wol feel about romance? are they a hopeless romantic, waiting for The One, or are they more casual? do they believe in soulmates?

(Junelezen notes buried this, sorry for the wait! Also it's going to be a long answer cause I wanna answer with all my WoLs)

Evelyn- She was a hopeless romantic when she was younger, wanting to be swept away from her life in the Brume, but it changed as she became jaded while enslaved. She surprised even herself when she fell super hard for Aymeric, and even after he confessed to her she still kept her feelings to herself for a really long time.

Reinhardt- He focused more on just casual dating, only having a couple of serious partners here and there (Both when he lived in the Steppe and adventuring). Then when he met Lucia, he got butterflies for the first time and wanted nothing more than to be with her.

Peppermint- She liked flirting with men but she never really wanted to be in a relationship until she met Vanja. Haven't hashed out how they met and get into a relationship because he's a friend's WoL but I'm p sure Pepper and Vanja were each others' first serious relationship from what we do have.

Ione- He knew from an early age that relationships were not something he was interested in. The first time he returned home to fulfill his duties, he backed out and never returned home after (that and other issues that included his half-sister's exile). Extra fact: he does want to be a father, but would rather adopt after he retires from adventuring.

Vivian- She has had a crush on Urianger since they were kids but never acted on them until they were whooshed to the First. During that time of pining she had some casual partners (including Val) to try (and fail) to move on from him.

O'zena- When he had his tribe, he sought out strong women for strong offspring. After his tribes slaughter he became incredibly closed off of love due to the loss of his wives and children (save for his youngest daughter). Then he met F'lhaminn and his thoughts towards love changed. He becomes bashful around her but hasn't really made a move.

Maral- Just as much of a hopeless romantic as the object of her affection, Magnai. She wants to be the moon he is looking for but she's shy and timid but does eventually take matters into her own hands and makes a move instead of waiting for him to do it.

Vallerin- He was more of a 'if it happens, it happens' kind of guy. If he felt a connection, cool, if not, he moves on. He had some casual flings here and there (Vivian like I mentioned above) then he met Una and things fell into place.

[forestwispocs]

WOL Bio

Melody Rope

Alias: Warrior of light, Hero of Eorzea, Hydaelyn’s Chosen, The bringer of light, Warrior of Darkness, Little Heater (Haurchefant), His Estelle (Urianger), My Plumeria (G’raha)

Age: 26

Race: Raen Au ra

Class: Bard

Family: Xaela mother, Raen Father, Hyru (Step mother)

Allies: The scion, Other WOL

Friends: Melanie, Orion, Carol, Hinata, Kirsten, Keres, Zenos (Somehow), Aymeric, Estinien, Yugiri, Yasa, Emet-Selch, Hythlodaeus, Erenville, 

Love interests: Haurchefant (First crush, deceased) Urianger (Partner) G’raha (Crush), Wuk (How did this happen)

Personality:

Melody at first seems to have a closed off personality mostly keeping to herself as she doesn’t open to others quiet easily, Orion was the first to see her break this shell. Trust is key for her so she might become wary of you at first glance but let her get to know you and she’ll come to. Like her trust, kindness also is key for her, and she doesn’t give it out willingly. Melody has been known to snap, from Orion experience, and she doesn’t back down. Once you push her buttons, she will fight with you. Some would say she’s emotional and its possibly true due to her holding back her feelings to others because she feels their emotions are more important than how she feels, but due to that she does eventually explode and its no one fault, but her own for not speaking up. She wears her heart on her sleeve always going to help others despite how she feels currently because she believes other people happiness, friends included, is more important to her than her own happiness.

Backstory: TW: Slight dark theme

Melody was raised by both her parents for a while before her mother decided to disappear and never came back. Around the age of 7 her and her father moved to Gridania, after an incident with a male Au ra took advantage of Melody when she was 6, where her father later met his now and current wife. Melody was very hesitant of her new mother even bringing her hell due to the new change. It only around 10 when she finally got use to her, but she still never called her mom or mother. Her new mother was pretty the best thing that her and her father ever had even if at times she did feel like she couldn’t do anything right around Melody because they weren’t the same race, but as time went on, they realized they were one of the same personality wise and bonded over festivals, her stepmother was the reason she took up being a bard.

When Melody was finally an adult she made a friend, her name was Orion. She was the one who approached her first cause Melody kept closing herself off, she was also the reason she got her to join the rest of the team, soon friends, when she found out she also possessed an echo. Melody was still intimidated by the team but loosen up when she saw she wasn’t the only Au ra, however despite being the same race her and Kirsten didn’t socialize for a while. Carol was the first to approach and greeted her even went as far as introducing the others, first being Melanie, Keres, Hinata and Kirsten. She did make a slight jab of saying “and you’ve already met Orion.” In hopes that Melody would loosen up. This was the beginning of her journey that she’ll never forget.

[jakey-beefed-it]

A few scattered, minimally spoilery FF14 thoughts as I draw near the end of Heavensward’s main story

I have come around entirely on Estinien (his one example of weirdly toxic masculinity directed at my sweet baby boy Alphinaud seems to have been an aberration of writing) and Aymeric (who is deep down an idealist despite being the Cesare Borgia chief of police). I was always on board for Count Edmont de Fortemps despite his looking suspiciously like Dracula and being a Count, because he was our narrator for this expansion and I’m genre savvy enough to figure that meant he’d be on our side unless he had a MUCH bigger role in which case he might have betrayed me for that punch. But yeah- his reaction to Major Character Death was heart-wrenching. 

Ysayle! Coming through as the most compelling character in the expansion full of compelling characters tbh. Her motivations, development, and the shit she ends up having to come to terms with, absolutely grabbed me. And then working with the team because no, she meant it, her whole entire goal was ending the fucking war. To the point of talking down her own people and thereby foiling the schemes of evil men in power, forcing them to change tack. 

I also really love the non-’heretic’ revolutionaries, and having done the Machinist quests alongside the main story really sells them that much more and I want! To shoot! Temple knights and asshole nobles! Already!

Hilda probably isn’t going to matter very much to the game moving forward which is too bad because in her like 5 minutes of scene she grabbed more attention than a lot of characters. Varian definitely has a crush on her, too.

“Hi, I see you like firearms and revolutionary direct fucking action I also like those things would you like to go out sometime? How do you feel about dating a guy with adopted twin elezen genius kids? That’s not a dealbreaker for you is it because if you don’t love my adorable kids it’s a dealbreaker for me and you should know that.”

Got machinist to 60 and got an outfit that matches my starter gunbreaker outfit but has a cowboy hat, so full-mourning-for-his-Ishgardian-bro Varian can pull his cowboy hat down over his eyes when he tears up too much over every little thing.

Also it’s just extra hilarious to me to have my character running around Ishgard, dealing with nobles and knights and such, with my very fancy aristocratic son, just wearing full on frontier cowboy leathers because he’s given up on any sort of ‘civilized’ behavior and is just. Going to put a bullet in the archbishop and his knights’ hearts.

Matoya is great and I love that she’s a literal bog witch living in a cave. Her sapient frog companions being former normal-ass frogs she uplifted rather than turning people who annoyed her into frogs is very [chef’s kiss]

Her interactions with Y’shtola were also great, and did more for Y’shtola’s character than like, anything that had come before because she went from being ‘the most competent and interesting of the Scions and therefore in the story’ to being one of the least interesting characters around not through any fault of her own but because the Ishgardians all were so much better written as to become vastly more compelling and she just can’t compete on their level

The development with her eyes has the potential to be really interesting- she’s full on post-stone-burner Muad’Dib’in it, here. Damn. 

Tataru is so talented and she should make everyone a new outfit. Next time maybe she’ll even remember to make pants! Fortunately Alphinaud kept his old pants and Y’shtola apparently had some bicycle shorts kickin’ around but still. Other than the lack of pants, both very solid improvements and a credit to Tataru’s skill.

^ Only one of these people dressed themselves, can be trusted to dress themselves, and it is the cowboy. Tataru, however, can be trusted to dress anyone. Provided they brought their own pants.

[chysgoda]

(@driftward) Ship meme, for Art’imis...

Aymeric. I am curious about how that dynamic would shake out.

Or Yugiri. What's that shape in the mirror.

Aymeric

Bel laid on her stomach reading the book uncle Artoriel had given her. Her mother sat on the bed next to her and stared at the wardrobe. Bel craned her head back to see how her mother’s lips pulled into a thin line and her eyebrows scrunched into the patch of ivory scales at the center of her forehead. Bel twitched her purple tail to the side to lay it alongside her mother’s sender ivory one. The young miqo’te girl placed the ribbon bookmark and closed her book. “He’s not like Ilberd.”

Art’imis expelled a breath somewhere between a huff and a laugh. “No, he’s not.”

Bel scowled when she noticed that her mom was picking at the scales on the back of her hands. She wriggled to get her knees under her and knelt up. She grasped one of her mom’s hands and pulled it towards her so that Art’imis couldn’t keep picking at herself. The paladin stared down at the hand Bel had claimed for a moment and then blew out a breath. She kissed the crown of Bel’s head and then rubbed the side of her horn against her daughter’s cheek.

They let the silence settle, soft and still between them. Eventually Art’imis sighed, “Well I know that you like him.”

“Mom!” Bel drew out the vowel into a whine, “I was ten!”

“Sorry darling,” Art’imis laughed and threw her arm around Bel’s shoulders, “seriously though, What do you think?”

Bel fussed with the end of her tail until her mother laid a hand over hers. “I think he’s kind. He never chuckles with the other nobles to keep face when someone makes a joke”- Bel raised her hands to make air quotes so aggressive she almost threw Art’imis’s arm off her shoulders - “about your scales or my ears. I know he can’t go with you when you have to be the Warrior Of Light, but he’d understand it and what it does to you.”

Art’imis hummed in thought and rested her chin on Bel’s head until the thirteen year old wriggled to get her to move. “Help me pick something out to wear?”

“Only if you never bring up that crush again.”

“Hmmmmmm, no promises.”

“Mom!!”

(The only person that doesn’t drag Bel about her school girl crush on Aymeric is Aymeric.)

Aymeric probably would have been who I shipped Art with ultimately except for one problem, I find Aymeric really really hard to write. Like to a stupid extent and I’m not sure why. On a character level though I think he would be patient and compassionate enough to wait for and help Art deal with her trauma (and Bel’s trauma) regarding the relationship with Ilberd. (Because I was evidently the only person who did NOT see that coming and I have inflicted that on Art’imis) Art was seriously messed up after the bloody banquet and it took her until 5.1 to get her feet back under her so she could trust a relationship again. With Aymeric I’d have to poke at it to get a feel for if that process would have sped up with him in a more romantically inclined role than a platonic one. As a couple I can see them working fairly well together. I can also see Edmont playing matchmaker just a bit because then he knows at least two of his kids are in a stable relationship. Also Aymeric as Bel’s adopted dad would be hilarious and adorable.

And now have some AU photos where Art’imis de Borel takes her husband to see the home of the twelve. (She’s pretty sure that there won’t be any trials while they’re there. Mostly sure. Well reasonably sure… okay she told him to bring the damn bow for a reason)

And here in particular she points out how you can see the tower that SOMEONE used to drag the scions to the first.

[karygurl]

cold comfort (ffxiv)

Takes place in Heavensward, after The Vault. Cass finally learns the other side of the double-edged sword that is her Echo-born empathetic ability.

So cold.

Everything in Ishgard was cold. 

Cassandra was sitting on the stones of the dais at the end of the Last Vigil, the darkened chasm on the other side of the railing before her stretching endlessly downward. The frozen cobblestones, the biting wind, the frigid air pulled into her lungs; the cold seeped into her from every angle and she welcomed it.

The impermeable cloud cover hung low, so near that she could almost reach out and touch them. The pre-dawn light was struggling to light the sky beneath their heavy blanket, and for a brief moment she wondered if they might actually succeed in keeping the dawn at bay. If ever a day didn’t deserve a dawn, it was this one, surely.

Haurchefant was gone.

Dead, she corrected herself with a stern finality. He was dead.

One of the patrons at Buscarron’s Druthers had once commented that her lack of memories was such a blessing, to have her slate wiped clean and be able to be whomever she felt like.

That was the day she stopped telling people about her amnesia, until she met the Scions.

To be so detached from the world around her, and have no memories of herself or things that may have happened to her, was certainly a curse rather than a blessing. She sometimes struggled with concepts or emotions that many found easy to handle, simply from having little experience.

Anger. Worry. Fear.

And now? Grief.

The emotional insight she'd always gleaned from others with her Echo was likewise suddenly nothing more than a curse. The pain she’d experienced as she’d desperately tried in vain to heal Haurchefant, held his hand, smiled for him, watched his soul leave his body, had been immeasurable. And yet it had been simply a precursor to the anguish she’d experienced from those around her. The grief of Lucia and Aymeric had painfully pressed in around her, Alphinaud’s on top of theirs choking her and weighing down her mind and steps as they’d left the Vault. 

Walking had been a struggle of putting one foot in front of another, time moving in an incomprehensible fashion, but it was nothing compared to the weight of sorrow that quickly came to envelop House Fortemps. It had felt cruel to have young Alphinaud deliver the news, but though she’d opened her mouth first in an attempt to spare him, words had failed to reach her tongue and he’d instead been the one to report their dread news. Another failure. 

Slowly but surely, she’d nearly collapsed under the weight of the combined sorrow of the household. Not only her own, but that of Haurchefant’s father, brothers and staff, all of them mourning, all of their anguish pressing in on her, around her, crushing her senses inward until only their pain remained. When Lord Fortemps finally broke, so did she, sinking to her knees with shuddering breaths and weeping openly as if her tears were the only thing that could restore him. She was trembling, nearly out of her mind, the sadness and grief overpowering her thoughts and choking the breath from her throat. She trembled, she was vibrating out of her skin and her bleeding heart was pouring out onto the floor and the grief was too much, she couldn't breathe, someone please help, she couldn’t take it--

Alphinaud’s hand coming to rest at her shoulder helped to anchor her, just for a moment. Just long enough to remind her of the existence of her body amidst the torrent of emotions she found herself trapped within. Pulling herself together had been a monumental task that had left her all but spent. 

She didn’t remember falling asleep that night. One of the servants had kindly placed a discreet bottle of sleeping tonic in her room, a kindness that she hadn’t deserved. The sleep had lasted only a few hours however, and before dawn broke she’d slipped from the front doors of the manor and allowed her feet to lead her onward, to the end of the street. 

There she sat, absorbing the cold that surrounded her and hoping that the sensation might numb the anguish that plagued her.

She’d heard the phrase “mad with grief” before, but now she understood, could feel it for herself. How the edges of her mind seemed to fray. The lack of concentration. The skittish, maddened thoughts that plagued her, that were so out of place that they seemed to come from another mind altogether. 

(You should have done something. She should have, she would have. She had no excuse, she’d simply not known what was coming, not done enough, not been enough.)

Haurchefant had called her his hope. It rang hollow now, a curse rather than a blessing. What hope could she offer, she who time and again was unable to save her friends?

(Someone else should have taken his place. Yes. But no-- she would not wish that on Aymeric, or Lucia, or Alphinaud, gods forbid.)

(You should have died and taken his place. She would have. Oh, she would have, given the choice. But then who could face off against Thordan and his knights without becoming tempered? She couldn’t have abandoned him or anyone else to that fate either--)

He’d been her hope in a way she’d not expressed to him. (Too late now.) She thought she’d understood the concept of grief well enough, had grieved and wept for her fellow Scions lost in the attack on the Waking Sands, had mourned Moenbryda after her sacrifice. She’d thought that the terror that she’d felt for her friends after the bloody banquet had been the most dire feeling she’d ever experience. There had been panic, worry, the not knowing eating her alive, all emotions that clung to her even now, but there had also been a feeble and desperate hope that Haurchefant had helped to kindle within her. But losing him forever? There was no hope, there were no possibilities. This was… impossible. Impossible to contain, impossible to endure. And yet she still breathed, her heart still beat. The sun still struggled to rise, fighting against the smothering blanket of clouds overhead. 

Her mind had spiraled in every conceivable direction, circled each and every dead end over and over and there were no answers to be found in any of them. Now she was simply… cold.

She imagined the slow creep of crackling ice spreading in crystalline tendrils to envelope her, and she embraced it. She might have considered it a gift from Saint Shiva, or Halone, were she being fanciful. She allowed the ice to form and freeze over the gaping, bleeding wound in her heart and seal its anguish away. Her sorrow and despair crystallized, flawless and frozen in time. The pain became... remote. Benign. Constant, but worthy of little notice, like the sound of her own breathing. 

She was left with only the cold, the numbness, an emptiness. Only an echo of grief remained, and in its place came to shine a cold unbridled fury the likes she’d never felt before. It robbed her of vision, of feeling, until nothing but pinpoint clarity remained.

She would kill Thordan and his knights. 

Lord Edmont had bid her give chase to his son’s murderer, and she would do it. She would have stopped Thordan and his knights regardless, but now, she would end them, like the rabid monsters they’d become. 

The first feeble rays of sunlight broke across the cover of the clouds, finally heralding the dawn and lighting her way forward. 

Quiet footsteps echoed on the cobblestones behind her. She heard the sound of her name, Alphinaud's voice carrying easily enough in the still quiet of the morning. Tilting her head back to the sky, she inhaled deeply, breathing in the cold air and encasing herself in its comforting chill before she stood to face him.

His eyes were red rimmed; no doubt hers were as well. Though she tried to offer him a small smile, his brows furrowed, gaze searching hers. Perhaps he’d expected her to still be weeping. Perhaps she should be. But she had work to do, first.

She placed a hand on his shoulder in what she hoped was a comforting gesture. “Come, let’s see how Aymeric is doing. And then… I need a sword.”

[shivasdarknight]

What are the main jobs of the characters in your wolship/wolnpc ship?  Do they adventure together or take on separate quests?  I’m sure this has been done but feel free to share a fun quest/adventure they had together too. :)

well, let’s start with a tally

Surkukteni: DRK/DRG predominantly, sometimes RDM, knows AST but won’t use it in combat Ysayle: BLM/PLD predominantly - also knows ARC and is learning MCH during 5.X Estinien: DRG and DRG only Aymeric: PLD pretty exclusively tho we’ve seen him w a bow Venat: PLD/WHM/DNC or whatever those technically are to the ancients idk

4 canon tanks.  Four.  And only one person who heals willingly.

If theres any adventuring going on, it’s more likely going to be Venat going than Aymeric due to his obligations as Lord Speaker, but they effectively swap as the assigned healer as he’s pretty much a blue healer.  The makeup is usually:

Tank: Surkukteni, very very rarely anyone else because of her injuries from 3.3 DPS: Estinien and Ysayle - both extremely obnoxious about it Healer: Venat or Aymeric but again, see above.

Surkukteni goes off on her own quite often, but has increasingly been going on jobs with Estinien and Ysayle.  Each of the three are pretty independent as Scions, but they don’t pass up on working together.  Aymeric only goes with others, and Venat heavily prefers to go with others as it’s just not fun if she wanders by herself.

As for a fun adventure, IDK IF THIS COUNTS AS FUN BUT. (see below the cut - explicit 5.5 spoilers)

Paglth’an was one of the few instances where Surkukteni, Ysayle, Estinien and Aymeric were actually on the same battlefield.  Ysayle hung close to Surkukteni and the other Scions, and Estinien and Aymeric basically followed along with canon.  This was Ysayle’s first proper excursion as a Scion besides the work she’d done with Melisande (which was a lot of laying low while Ysayle recovered), and also the first major thing she’d done with Surkukteni since Heavensward.  So maybe there was a lot of overcorrection, maybe there was a lot of hovering on each others’ parts because they were worried and all of this was new.

But during the last leg of the fight - you know, when Tiamat shows up - Ysayle got super fucking distracted.  She knew of Tiamat, but had few chances to speak to her - let alone see her in combat like that.  And Ysayle is a sapphic mess, and is extremely predictable and was crushing hard.  While it got the Scions to tease her for it - namely Surkukteni and Y’shtola - it quickly turned into a dire distraction as a tempered dragon seized Ysayle by the leg and broke it.  Injuries were bad, Surkukteni panicked but at least Ysayle was otherwise fine when they managed to deal with the main pack.  Part of why Estinien doesn’t engage in the Lunar Bahamut fight (beyond it not being canon) is that he hung back to keep an eye on Ysayle until additional helped arrived to let Surkukteni deal with things.

Which means when they head to Ul’dah after everything, there’s this wonderful image in my head that I love of Surkukteni just bridal carrying Ysayle through the streets to the infirmary while they’re just quietly talking to distract her from the pain of having her leg mauled.

She’s fine.  She recovers and it helps that the duration between 5.5/5.55 and 6.0 is like...just over half a year in my canon (for reasons).  But it drives Ysayle nuts after the fact because she hates navigating with crutches and neither Surkukteni nor Estinien will let her live it down because the initial fear and worry is gone - all that’s left is Ysayle is in this situation because she got distracted while oggling a dragon she thought was really hot.  It’s too good of an opportunity to pass up!

And yes, I’ve already written it too.

    Changing the subject to not risk Allie overhearing them talking about her, Surkukteni’s hand fell gently on the cast Ysayle was forced to wear.  “What were you doing out?” she asked, looking Ysayle over with concern.  “I thought you were ordered to rest.”

    “Funny that you’re the one saying this,” was Estinien, falling hard into the couch to Surkukteni’s other side in spite of the glare she leveled by at him.  His hand draped behind her shoulders, falling to rest near Ysayle’s.  His fingers traced her exposed pale skin - all thanks to her slipping shirt - and trailed up her neck, letting them linger at her jaw.  “But I do agree with her, even if she is a hypocrite; is your leg any better?”

    Ysayle shifted to lean into Surkukteni, and by proxy more into Estinien’s touch.  She sighed as she took Surkukteni’s hand, running her own slender fingers along her rough palm.  “I think if you’d told me several years ago that I’d have both former Azure Dragoons fretting over my well-being, I would’ve called you crazier than I and laughed it off.”  Before either could protest, she did laugh it off and shook her head.  “It’s feeling much better, thank you.  I just needed the fresh air, is all.”

   ��Surkukteni sighed.  “I wish it’d heal faster.  You’d think healing magic would do more for broken limbs, but I suppose it can only do so much.”

    “You and me both.”  Ysayle sighed.  “I only wish I’d been of some help in Carteneau.”

    “A word of advice, then?” was Estinien, in that markedly unhelpful tone of his.  “Things generally go better if you stay focused, and not get distracted by dragons you fancy.”

    Ysayle groaned loudly at that, her face burning bright red.  

    Surkukteni - equally unhelpful - could only laugh, a wide and toothy grin painting her features.

    Paglth’an had...well, it had certainly gone.  It was Ysayle’s second ever serious fight as a Scion proper, and it was safe to say not an easy one to learn group dynamics in.  Things had gone smoothly for the most part (though, Alisaie was no help, as usual), but that quickly changed when Surkukteni caught Ysayle staring.  Not staring at her - though she had honestly wished she had looked at her with all that awe and desire - but rather at Tiamat mid-battle.  She didn’t even get the chance to tease her for it before one of the tempered dragons had seized Ysayle in its jaws, cleanly snapping her leg in two and giving the lot of them a collective heart attack.  It’d been scary in the moment - mortifying, if she were honest - but now that they knew she’d survive and keep her leg as it was?  Well.

    “She is single, you know,” Surkukteni pointed out, only to get a loud whine from Ysayle as she buried her face in the crook of the Warrior’s shoulder.  “You could, if you wanted to.”

    “I’m sure she’d be eager to at least see you properly, with all you’ve done,” Estinien added.

    A more exasperated groan slipped from Ysayle, muted mostly by Surkukteni’s arm.  “Damn the both of you, I never should have explained why,” was her muffled response, broken up by a flustered laugh.  At least it wasn’t a sore subject with her.

[elizabethrobertajones]

Ignoring 'pinnacle' because I have a lot of Frog ships :P I think Frogmeric is a good example of what brings me to a wolship though because it got so teased to the point of Thancred straight up saying he thought Aymeric was in love with the WoL, and it's always fun to go "so what do we make of all this then?" and think about filling in the gaps of story we already have with canon wol happenings, and put in how Frog runs with it.

I thought it was interesting that the dinner date gets cut off and you end up yanked away back to duty which is just so tragic for what looked like a blooming love story with the character I *already* had a crush on (and like... this happened to everyone?? nah this was a cutscene only for me :P), but things spin on from that disaster to the point of sending you off to war in Stormblood and you never really get a chance to make it up to Aymeric in that whole part of the story... I thought it was probably for the best that she break his heart a little and tell him this was clearly not working out even if they were obviously pining for each other.

And then after Shadowbringers I was caught up to the story and downtime started to feel like downtime and events seemed to move much slower in the story too, AND Frog had a much more adventure-friendly partner in G'raha now. But like... also the stakes seemed different and better for relationships in general than zipping around the globe for war.

Then it didn't seem quite so weird at all to think that G'raha would be royally upset that she was so cruel to Aymeric after one bad dinner incident. So it was literally the idea of Frog and G'raha that made me think about Frog and Aymeric again just because I couldn't bear to disappoint G'raha by being mean to the most beloved elf who I thought was perfect in all respects except being stuck behind a desk :') I decided they'd done their trial by fire and seen it through some hard times and could give it a real go.

(I mean likewise, Frog thought G'raha was so annoying right up until the very last second in ARR so that was a reprieve there too XD I thought he was rather funny but he really hit romantic hero status only the moment Frog realised she was losing him. She did then instantly recognise him in ShB and played along very diligently.)

Another random WoLQotD/OC question

I thought I'd ask this while I worked on my other questions. :)

If you're a WoL x NPC shipper, what drew you to that ship and why? What makes that ship the pinnacle for you and your oc? Is it that you love the canon character you write them with, you find their dynamic interesting or something in between?

If you're not a WoL x NPC shipper, but you have a ship with another person, how did that come about? What makes that ship fulfilling for you? Has the ship impacted your relationship with that other person? Feel free to gush, I wanna hear it!

Oh, and pictures are a must (if you have them).

[talesfromeorzea]

Future

@ishgard​

Day 4 Prompt: Peace

Peace for Ishgard, a phrase Sallee never thought she would hear in her lifetime, but here it was.  As she stood amidst the crowd gathered before Saint Reymanaud’s cathedral watching as Aymeric launched skyward upon the wyvern’s back she felt a happiness she never thought she would.

For a thousand years her people had been at war, a thousand years they and dragons both had needlessly shed blood again and again over the greed of her ancestors.  The truth of the war was known and while many still struggled to accept it.  Ishgard at long last found itself at peace.  No more would the children of Ishgard grow to learn to fight and die in the flames of battle against dragons.  No more would dragons grow and be compelled by Nidhogg's roar to enact his vengeance.  No more would Isghardians drink dragon's blood to transform and become a part of his never ending hoard.  

And although she had long since stopped considering herself Ishgardian, Sallee still felt a sense of pride that her kinsman could finally begin to move forward beyond the crushing weight of constant war.   She couldn’t help but smile as she heard an elder near her say, “It's finally over dear, no more will our sons and grandsons die from fire or claws…”

Her husband beside her nodded looking pensive, overtly wanting to voice concerns but not wanting to spoil his wifes elation.  Sallee decided to speak up stating softly, “Aye now our people can move forward from the pains of the past.  Learn from our ancestors' mistakes and not repeat them.”

The man jerked and looked at her. It only took a moment for him to recognize who she was and he nodded, “Aye Warrior, ye have the right of it.  It's just……”

“You find it difficult to forgive and forget,” she responded knowing full well many of her kinsmen were of similar reluctance, “That is not what is being asked sir.  We are simply asking people to learn from the past and look for a brighter morrow.  I know there are many who find it difficult to see dragons as something other than the enemy.  However in my experience with them I have seen first hand they are as many and varied as man is.  The “enemy” were those who could not let go of Nidhogg's hate, his desire for vengeance.  But not all dragons were part of those, the ones you see here chose the path of peace rather than blood.”

He blinked for a moment then slowly nodded, hearing the point she was making overtly by the look in his eyes and judging by the looks she saw on other faces many around him did as well.

“To forget this war, is to repeat it.  We must remember what happened, all of the pain, the suffering and try to prevent it from happening again.  I know all we've been taught is right now being shaken but remember this, we are not the Knights of Eld nor do we need to be, we are ourselves and I believe the Fury would rather see her people live to battle another day instead of throwing the life she gives away.  Instead of clinging to the past let us look to the future and make it as bright and beautiful as we can for those that follow us.”

She saw again many in the crowd near her nodding and looking eager for the future, also those with anger in their eyes and overt hatred.  She expected this and then gave a soft smile stating, “If we let ourselves cling to the hate and anger of the past, we will be the same as Nidhogg.”

This caused many of the naysayers to start and glare at her all the harder and she continued, “I cannot bring myself to hate Nidhogg to be honest.  He chose his path out of grief and self hate,”

Several people blinked and she continued, “His brood sister died because she spoke truly and relayed his feelings to the King and his knights.  He felt responsible and was enraged that over mere words they chose the path of blood.  Nidhogg was a prisoner of his own emotions and driven mad because of it.  So, I don’t hate him even with all the suffering he has caused to our kin, because tell me this and tell me true, if any of you had lost a loved one to similar treachery would you not choose that path as well?”

Some of those who had hatred in their eyes had it fade to become contemplative instead weighing her words and actually considering them.  To which she was grateful, if Ishgard was to move forward her people needed to think more than react.

There was suddenly a rush of air above them and the crowd backed up as Vidofnir hovered a moment before landing and looking at Sallee, “A Warrior, I was hoping to see thee.  I wanted to thank thee for keeping thy word, for ending the war.”

Sallee gave a smile, “I told you then and I meant it I was tired of seeing both our peoples die to bloodshed and hate.  I wanted the cycle to end and now it has, now we can take steps toward a more peaceful future,”

Vidofnir nodded, “Aye, that we can, I look forward to a day when our kindred can work fully together as they did in the days of eld.”  She then looked over the crowd adding, “A day when thou can look upon  a visage such as mine and not feel uncertainty.  Mayhap thy children or thy children's children shall. Till that day my kindred will endeavor to show thee we are not thine enemy.”

With that she took to the sky along with her brood father and brother and together they flew off back to Abalathia’s spine.  Sallee simply smiled and waved as she flew off then turned to those she had been speaking to saying, “I look forward to such a day as well when my kin can let go of the hate of the past.”

And with that she left, setting out into the city proper to join in the celebration that was starting, a celebration of war's end and life beginning anew.

[faelune-home]

❤ღ💘💚

Thank you for the ask~ ^3^

❤  - miqo!Fufu is definitely the romantic type. She gets so easily caught up in fairy tales and love stories and sweet songs. She likes the sweeter details with affectionate interactions.

ღ  - She tends to flip flop between finding it adorable but then also getting mildly embarrassed about it, like she’s encroaching in on something she shouldn’t be if its other people. With herself, she’s probably be too wrapped up in the moment to even realise its in public unless someone pointed it out or got her attention.

💘 - More often she doesn’t even realise she is until someone else starts teasing (then she gets defensive because oh no she is crushing hard but uuuh you didn’t see anything, what crush, shush - its this very reason why she’s still very insistent that no one else knows about her crush on Aymeric...even tho everyone does know lol). But when she does realise these things its either a very flustered affair or a  very comforting feeling - like being with a friend she trusts but a bit warmer.

💚 - Love is nice. It’s a lot of different things and she has a lot of love for even her closest friends. The kind of feelings so strong that she swears she would break if she ever lost them.

Romantic love and falling in love...she’s quite eager and excited for that day to come. But she’s also trying to be reasonable. Although she has had crushes and moments, she’s aware that she has an important job right now with being the Warrior of Light and a member of the Scions, and current events - dealing with the Empire and the Ascians and trying to keep the people of Eorzea and the rest of the world safe - means she just doesn’t have the time to commit to a relationship. Both to give whatever the other person would want, to take what they’d give, or even to promise her own safety. So she’s committed to waiting until everything if settled and the world doesn’t need a warrior to save it before doing anything romantic. Just for now. :’)

aka whoops writing myself into a corner for no wolshipping right now...im dedicated to having my girl being dedicated to her cause and protecting others before focusing on herself ahaha

[miss-tc-nova]

Weakness - Aymeric de Borel x WoL

I haven’t felt the inspiration strike me like this in a while and I’m really happy with this one. This is what finding the right song means to me and why I always write with music in my ears. I know it doesn’t always makes sense, but this is how I write. 

Minor Endwalker Spoilers!

Premise: Aymeric is struggling with his current situation. 

Music Inspiration: Lemon by Kenshi Yonezu

~~~~~~

              A scratching quill scrawls across the parchment, relaying words of congratulations. Yet the moment his concern inks the blank space, the scribe sighs his frustration and crumples the page in his palm, sending it to join the rest of the discarded messages piling in the corner.

              He can’t keep doing this.

              It’s been a few days since the end threatened the star. In that time, it feels as if the realm has been in perpetual celebration. Things have certainly begun slowing down, but the people of Eorzea are still basking in the euphoria of another promised day.

              Not Aymeric de Borel.

              The moment he heard of the expedition to the ends of existence headed by the fabled Warrior of Light, he wanted nothing more than to drop everything and race to Sharlayan in hopes of…of doing something. It’s all moot now, but he’s still unsure if he would have been in favor of the feat or decried it. Even had he made an appearance to argue, he’s certain his words would have fallen on deaf ears; after all, the hero was never one to shy away from danger no matter the infinitesimal odds. And while that is something he treasures, the fact that the world is so helpless that it can only turn to the same, single individual over and over again breaks his heart. Hero or not, man can only endure so much before they break; even Aymeric, himself, will break should something dire befall the person he cherishes most.

              However, while he continues marching forward, the result may prove the same in the end. Not a single word of the Warrior of Light’s health has reached him since before the launch. Missives have been sent to inquire, but naught has returned with an answer one way or another. The elezen can only assume that the jubilee of the star’s citizens has simply delayed all communication, which is perfectly understandable—he keeps telling himself—and life continues in Ishgard, as does as his responsibility to her people.

              Not that there’s really a choice for him. Aymeric’s choice was made for him long ago, the moment he realized that he was a liability. Aymeric de Borel; Viscount of House Borel, Lord Commander of the Temple Knights, Aymeric the Blue; could be nothing more than a burden to the Warrior of Light.

              Frustrated hands shove through onyx hair as he convinces himself that yet another letter will not relieve him any sooner.

              In the beginning, he was certainly intrigued with the refugee, and as he watched their accomplishments first hand, it grew to admiration. There was no denying that he was dealing with someone who would go far, but he didn’t expect the adventurer to run away with his heart as well. Even as he became aware of what was happening, he knew it wouldn’t end well. Further and further down the rabbit hole he tumbled, snagging rose thorns as he fell. He never had a hope of courting someone that lead such an amazing life vastly different from his own, even so, part of him clung to a shred of hope he couldn’t banish within himself.

              Until another Scion confronted him.

              He’d only known the conjurer for mere hours before she’d miraculously managed to corner him alone. Her words still burn in his brain and bring a sting to his eyes.

              “You’d do well to keep your affection to yourself—if not for your sake, then for theirs.”

              She did not mince words when implying he would only hold the hero back. Aye, Aymeric would be crushed if he was rejected, on the other hand, the thought of his dearest faltering for one fatal moment because of him was devastating. Between the two, living in his unrequited lonesome was the more bearable option—no matter how much it killed him inside.

              Still, he cherished every moment. His carefully orchestrated act continued, but every bright smile and joyous laugh he could get, his heart held onto. He made his choice and he would walk that path, all while wishing the adventurer the best.

              The silence of the room blares in his ears, antagonizing the worry and rationality into conflict. The sheer desire to abandon Ishgard and flee to Sharlayan to demand answers is a bitter slap in the face of the man who used to dream of leading his home to a peaceful future. In all their time spent apart, Aymeric had started to think he’d finally begun moving past his infatuation; being left in the dark like this has dragged him back into that bottomless pit, thorns and all.

              Sanity wins the battle, compelling him to remain in his office. Worry wins the war, though, as the man shudders. Teeth grit together, trying to contain the grief, but it takes a different path, instead blurring his vision and leaking from his eyes. Fed up with his weakness—in his emotions and his battle prowess—fists slam onto the desk, only for a hand to slap across his mouth before a cry escapes him.

              To make matters worse, there’s a knock on the door. Desperately trying to rein himself in, Aymeric stands and faces away from the door.

              “Yes?” He thanks Halone his voice doesn’t break.

              “My lord.” It’s Lucia. “You have a visitor.”

              Predictably, in his most vulnerable moment a visitor would come calling. He’s alright though—he has to be.

              “Of course. Let them in.”

              “Yes sir.”

              He can hear his guest step into his office but takes that time to recompose himself as best he can. The courage to face them eludes him, however, so he elects to remain as he stands.

              “Mine apologies,” he says. “Pray do not think me rude, I simply—”

              It doesn’t matter if he’s a mess inside and out, the second his name rings out, the Lord Commander turns.

              There stands the Warrior of Light. Bruises, bandages, and scabs riddle the skin, but this surely is the vaunted hero in the flesh.

              Relief floods through the man. In three swift strides, he closes the gap to embrace his guest. He doesn’t care how unprofessional it is, he’s going to cling to the person he loves most as if his life depends on it.

              “I was so worried.” Never had Aymeric the Blue shown his weakness so plainly before, crying like a lost child.

              Hands press against his back, instigating the relief that instigates the sobbing. Nevertheless, the embrace holds him tightly. He knows this is unsightly, unbecoming, and maybe even abhorrent to the adventurer, but Lord Aymeric is drowning in his reprieve.

              And then he hears it. It doesn’t stop the tears but it does confound him enough to straighten up and peer into the eyes of his salvation.

              “I beg your pardon?” he murmurs, almost afraid to ask.

              That smile is one his heart will never be able to overcome.

              “I said I love you too.”

              That’s it for him. Aymeric de Borel; Viscount of House Borel, Lord Commander of the Temple Knights, Aymeric the Blue; completely breaks to the whim of the person he loves most.

              Who loves him back.

~~~~~

Nova’s Final Fantasy Masterlist

[pangolinheart]



@tk-duveraun

Hmmm... I'm not sure I expressed myself very well here...

I definitely know that the in-game story isn't the end-all be-all of most people's characters, and that things can be added or subtracted or changed to make the story closer to what you want it to be. I just don't have any idea what I want it to be.

And of course the nature of the game means that the MSQ is always going to paint the WoL in a very generic light (except for the "Strong Silent Type" trope) and that it can't focus too heavily on the relationships between the WoL and NPCs. When I said that I was hoping there would be more interacting with the Scions, it wasn't because I was looking for a change in dynamic, I was more hoping that we would get more insight into some of their backgrounds, perspectives, or inner thoughts and feelings about the things they've experienced. We get these kind of thoughts from the twins and a bit from Lyse but never really the others. It doesn't have to be "bonding" with the WoL, it could be shown between other characters without the WoL present/overheard in passing, etc. My thought was more that if I had more insight into their characters I could find a point of intersection between them and Rhiki that I could work in. I hope that makes sense! I don't think I conveyed it well in the previous post, so I apologize! ^^;

I'm also know that there are plenty of opportunities for characters to interact, bond, have adventures, etc. over the course of the game. I've definitely played out these conversations and scenarios in my head (I don't write them down because writing is hard and stressful and, as you said my takes are pretty shallow so i'm usually too embarrassed to share them) many times for other characters - Tataru, Alphinaud, Haurchefant, Edmont, Aymeric, M'naago, Ryne, Sidurgu, Rielle, etc. These conversations would be interesting to no one but me and don't fit neatly into a narrative, so I usually don't take the time and painstaking effort to record them.

I haven't really been able to do this with the three characters we talked about, not because they're not deep and interesting characters but because I just don't feel like their characters fit together well with Rhiki's? And I'm not 100% sure they need to fit together, I was just talking on that because you said that Rhiki's resentment of the Scions was a more interesting point than the backstory portion. If I misinterpreted that, though, you have my apologies! But this goes back to the problem being not "i have an idea but don't know how to make it work" but "i don't have any ideas." If you don't mind me asking, in your opinion, does Rhiki's relationship with these Scions need to drastically improve in order to make her a better character?

In regards to writing dialogue with these characters, I'd be happy to try (or at least try imagining them), but I would need help generating a starting point. Like I said above, I;ve done this with other NPCs before, but I've never done it to these three (except maybe a little with Thancred much earlier in the story) because I just can't for the life of me think of what they would talk about. Awkward small talk about the weather or other general observations would be the only thing I could imagine?

You're right that her dynamic with these Scions is very superficial, but I'm a little worried that there isn't any more meat to find there...

When it comes to Y'shtola, she and Rhiki just don't share any emotional character beats, common goals (beyond saving the world), or common interests. I've mentioned this in other posts but Rhiki has always had a little bit (or a lotta bit) of a crush on Y'shtola, and kind of views her like a cool upperclassman; she's mature and self-assured and confident and smart and pretty and cool. Rhiki still resents her a little bit because she feels unseen and a little used, but she also admires her. This is another reason I don't necessarily feel like it's in-character for Rhiki to start shouting at her. Tbh I don't really want them to end up in a relationship together, because I feel like they just don't have any chemistry (I've read a few WolShtola fics that I really liked, but I could never try to create a similar vibe with Rhiki.) So I don't need to find a way to justify that. Obviously you're right and Y'shtola is a very caring person, though she disguises it. And I'm sure she cares about Rhiki as much as she does the other Scions. I just don't think she'd enjoy spending time with Rhiki. Rhiki is impulsive, kind of immature, loud, overly-friendly, and a little bit annoying (affectionately). While she thinks it's cool and all that Y'shtola is such a scholar, she has no academic aptitude at all (and finds things like history and aetherology and research kind of boring.... So she's probably not interested in becoming better at being a scholar.) I don't think this means that Y'shtola would dislike a person like Rhiki, but I have trouble picturign what the two of them would talk about other than, like, the logistics of saving the world.

Urianger and Rhiki... barely share a common language lol. Once again, Rhiki is decidedly not a scholar so Urianger could talk at her about his theories or recent readings but all she would hear is a high-pitched buzzing... I guess they could talk about Alisaie, since they both care about her? That's kind of their only point of commonality. I actually don't think Urianger would dislike Rhiki, maybe he'd find watching her run around kind of funny or endearing? And Rhiki also doesn't hate Urianger, either. It's obvious that he feels guilty about the times he's lied to the WoL, and that he would protect them from harm if he could... but I think they both know he'd probably do it again if he felt it was what needed to be done. Rhiki could blow up at him and make him feel more guilt for his hand in the Sin Eater thing, but to what end? She wouldn't be telling him anything he doesn't already know, so it's not like it would be a revelation or a breakthrough. And while he does apologize, I don't know that that would make Rhiki an less upset with him. And really by the time Rhiki learns about his plot with the exarch she's less angry and more exasperated and annoyed. She does resent him for being pretty cavalier with her life, but I feel like that's not going to change anything about him. I guess I could write a conversation about that, though like I said I'm not sure it really advances Rhiki's character or their relationship at all. Trying to think of conversations they would have outside of that... I'm not really sure. I'm sure they interacted between plot points at least occasionally throughout the game, but I don't know that there's a way to forge some deep emotional connection between the two of them.

Thancred and Rhiki have the most in common but also have the most contentious relationship. I have thought about various conversations and scenarios of them talking, though I feel like they really drift apart between the beginning of Stormblood and the end of Shadowbringers. I could see writing a conversation with them engaging in some catty gossip during ARR. And through ARR and the end of HW he's probably the only Scion Rhiki would consider talking about her love life with. (This is almost purely because Rhiki does not care what Thancred thinks about her. She doesn't feel like she needs to impress him or make him think she's cool. She thinks he's a disaster of a person, so what's gonna happen if he thinks she doesn't have her life together? Even if he does judge her, it doesn't really matter to her.) That being said, they both go through a lot of heavy emotions in HW, but they really can't share in each other's experiences - Thancred wasn't there for any part of Heavensward and never met Haurchefant. If he was doing good himself he might be able to offer some generic comfort over losing a friend. But he's clearly not doing good during the post-patches. Rhiki can't offer any support through that because she's dealing with her own stuff and because she doesn't really understand his relationship with Minfilia or have any frame of reference from her own life to rely on. Plus, she has complicated feeling about Minfilia that she knows he woudlnt' wnat to hear. He's in Garlemald for most of Stormblood, and while I guess they could have sent messages to each other... about what? Then they meet back up in Shadowbringers and Rhiki is not impressed with how he treats Ryne and how bad his attempts to hide his own baggage are. I've definitely imagined Rhiki yanking him aside to tell him to pull himself together. Early on in the story they get along because they have the most common interests, but as Thancred grows and changes as a character, Rhiki starts to see a lot of the things she doesn't like about herself in Thancred and it drives her absolutely bonkers (though she has no insight into why this is.) Once again, she could lose her temper with Thancred, but what is going to change in their relationship if she does?

So, I guess my questions are: what would make these relationships better or more interesting? Like you said, you don't need a reason to cause a problem, but would Rhiki exploding at the other scions cause a problem that's worth fixing? Or would it solve any existing problems? I guess I'm not sure what the end goal would be. Does Rhiki's relationship with the Scions have to be good by the start of Endwalker for her to be a better character? If there's in-between moments from other parts of the story I could add to make Rhiki and her relationships more interesting, what are they? If I did write scenes or conversations like this, would they be interesting enough that someone who doesn't know anything about Rhiki would be interested in reading it (because writing it's hard to motivate myself to write something that only I'm ever going to look at it)?

I'm not saying any of these things would or wouldn't improve Rhiki as a character, I'm just asking if you think that would and, if so, how and why? I want to "Yes and" all of this but I'm kind of confused... like I said, I'm not really used to or good at creativity, character building, or storytelling, so it's not your fault at all!

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@endarr

Thank you for your input! As I mentioned above, I'm totally aware of and on-board with changing the plot to your own devices and I would happily do it if I had any idea of what I wanted to do!

Rhiki's personality and relationships are already very well-defined in my head, so it's not like I need help getting a feel for her character. Her character has definition, it's just not interesting. ^^;;; (It's a little bit interesting to me, but I can see why it's not to anyone else. I'm super supportive of people writing things just for themselves, I just don't like doing it for me... If it's not interesting to anyone else then i'll get more enjoyment from it in my head than I would on paper.)

Rhiki does have people outside the Scions that she can talk to about her problems, she just doesn't have any on the First. But I'm not sure if she actually needs anyone, from a character standpoint. She does have Ardbert to talk to, so I suppose he could give her advice if need-be. I'm just not sure if I should make fixing her relationships with the 3 Scions she's not particularly close with should be the endpoint.

I can definitely try to write/imagine some dialogue, though! I just want to understand the goal I'm working towards.

The Vishap thing is very interesting!! I don't really think anyone should have to justify non-canon compliance as long as they think it's cool and fun! And if it adds something to the story or character then it's 100% worth it! Like I said, it's not like I think I can't alter the canon in any way, it's just that I can't think of any ideas for altering the canon or making my character more distinctive. If I thought Rhiki doing X with Y character was a fun idea I would absolutely add it to her story, I just can't think of anything for her to do or anyone for her to do it with.

(I may have mentioned in one of these posts that there was a fic idea that I had for a brief moment that I abandoned because it wouldn't work, but the reason "it wouldn't work" wasn't that I couldn't change what happened in canon - this would be an AU anyway - it was that the idea itself lacked internal logic and consistency, and also i couldn't think of an ending lol.)

Thank you for your input, in any case! It is helpful to have multiple perspectives!

@pangolinheart

Why not forget backstory entirely for a moment. The angle of Rhiki's strained relationship with scions and how that ties into the DRK story is really, really good.

Lean into it, remember?

Focus on ShB because it's more or less non optional and later decide if she went home for StB.

Maybe when Rhiki overhears Yshtola and Urianger talking about Rhiki and the Light corruption, she confronts them about it.

She goes at Urianger for acting like things are fine when she's super definitely not fine.

Then she goes at Y'shtola for not caring about her as a person, only as the carrier of the Blessing of Light.

Even with low self-confidence, she can hit her breaking point. She can hear fray in her heart and want... She doesn't know, really, but she can't keep pretending and going along with being the "hero"

I've read many many books on writing and characters and one of my favorite pieces of advice that has stuck with me is someone from Pixar

Paraphrasing: you can use any kind of bullshit, flimsy excuse to CAUSE problems because the story is in RESOLVING them.

Rhiki doesn't need a good reason to start a fight with the Scions, she just needs good reasons for however their relationships end up.

[elfyourmother]

For the ask meme: 8 for Gisele & Haurche, 15 for Gisele & Thancred

8. What are their most prominent memories of each other?

This is a really tough call because they each factor so heavily in each other’s memories, big ones and small, but if I had to narrow it down to just one:

For Haurche, it’s probably still Gisele standing in that audience he granted her in his office, the night she fled there after escaping the Bloody Banquet in Ul’dah. The woman he had come to see as so vivacious and charming and clever was such a hollow shell of herself, disheveled and in shock--her gown was torn and still covered in Raubahn’s blood, from when Ilberd took his arm. Her voice, normally so vibrant and self-assured, was trembling, and her eyes were deathly haunted. It took everything in Haurchefant not to crush her in his arms the moment she walked in that way. (That came later.)

The reason it stands out so strongly in his memory is because it was such a turning point for them. Until then, he had been infatuated with her, and knew that he had feelings for her; the way he reacted when he’d heard she ran off to fight Shiva and his first instinct to go flying after her required him being held back by like 6 grown knights after all. But seeing her that way that night, so vulnerable and hurt and traumatized, was the precise moment he realized he wanted to protect her for the rest of their lives.

For Gisele, it was seeing him descend upon the Steps of Faith with Ysayle, when she was frantically trying to pull Nidhogg’s Eye from Estinien’s corrupted armor. She was in so much excruciating pain because the Eye was burning not just her hands but her whole body, essentially revolting against being pried out, and she was growing so weak and unable to carry on...and then she looks up and the clouds literally part and in the suddenly blazing sunshine she sees Haurchefant on Vidofnir’s back. It’s the sort of thing bards sing about when recounting legends of heroes (Far, far into the future when these lot are made saints, that’s the iconic image of Saint Haurchefant in stained glass.). If Gisele closes her eyes she can still feel how warm and strong he was with his arms wrapped around her, lending her his strength--such that it was, with his injury. But it was enough to save Estinien. 

So many times when Gisele was in trouble, Haurche was there to save her, almost from the very beginning of knowing each other--like in battle against the false Inquisitor at Witchdrop, or that time he came charging up the hill to rescue her and Emm from the Vanu Vanu. But this one stands out the most to her. He has rarely left her side since, only when it’s a low spoon day and he just Can’t.

15. Does their view of themselves differ from their partner’s view?

Oh definitely; Thancred doesn’t see himself as a hero at all, rather someone who gets things done, by necessity. But Gisele sees him as every bit the knight in shining armor that Haurchefant and Aymeric are, and despairs that sometimes Thancred seems to define himself only by his perceived failures. She wishes more than anything that he could see himself through her eyes. He’s been her protector as much as Haurche has, and for longer even--doesn’t mean any less that he didn’t take an archaic Halonic oath to do so.

Meanwhile so much of Gisele’s identity after she gets her memory back is wrapped up in grandiose notions of fate and her chronic hero syndrome that post 6.0 she actually sinks into depression, because what happens to the world’s savior when it doesn’t need saving anymore? Her entire life, going back to when Irving told her she had the potential to be the greatest Circle Mage in a generation, she’s largely been valued for what she does, and not who she is as a person outside of The Sorceress(tm). She couldn’t help but internalize that to a degree, it was probably inevitable.

But for all her accomplishments and fancy titles, for all of the remarkable things he’s seen her do, Thancred has never especially seen her as The Warrior of Light. That’s not to say that he diminishes those other things, far from it--he admires her greatly, the basis of his love for her is a truly profound respect--but he’s known her longer than anyone in Eorzea, and to him she’s still just Gisele, that pretty Elezen adventurer he found near the Sultantree, with the sweet smile and the sharp wit. And he’s determined to keep reminding her of that, that her worth is not in how many times she’s saved the world. But just for being herself.

[blackestnight]

25: that hum of night

Prompt: Silver lining

Word count: 1576

Definitely going to revisit this one, because the second part isn’t “done” to my satisfaction, but I had fun with it either way.

The plan had originally called for Aymeric to travel to Limsa Lominsa by airship. Hanami would meet him at the landing, and whisk them both off on the remainder of the journey to Doma by means of magic. She had been insistent that she could return to Ishgard to meet him instead, but he had a number of reasons to refuse the offer—for one, it seemed foolish to force her to backtrack, and for another he would enjoy the excuse to experience a warmer climate before arriving on her mothers’ doorstep, if only because the last time they had landed in the Enclave’s aetheryte plaza still bundled in their warmer layers the sudden shift to heat and humidity had hit him like walking into a wall.

He hadn’t accounted for the difficulty in finding Hanami—the landing was crowded, the throng of inbound adventurers and merchants much thicker than he remembered from his handful of prior journeys to Limsa—and once he did, he was shocked to find her propped against a wall near the lift, one foot resting on her bag at her feet, by all appearances asleep on her feet.

He knew she’d signed on to join a fishing expedition, half a participant and half a guard; she was a stronger swimmer than most sailors, and free from the threat of drowning besides. He hadn’t known that their vessel had run afoul of a band of Serpent Reavers on the last day. That alone, when she told him, periodically yawning into her hand while they waited for the lift, nearly gave him a heart attack on the spot—but she waved off his concern, insisting that between herself and the Yellowjacket marauders who had been on board, they’d managed to drive off or detain the Reavers.

Detain, not defeat. Because when the Endeavor had made its way home, a Maelstrom signifier had ferried out to meet them with a porxie, and despite already having worn herself out with a week-long voyage and battling a pirate crew, Hanami had apparently donated her own aether to the cause when the mage’s endurance wore out.

“‘M fine,” she insisted, shamelessly leaning on Aymeric while the lift rumbled down a floor, so quiet he nearly couldn’t hear her under the murmurs of the other passengers. “I ate, I drank that fucking gross potion from the—healer person. The ether goo. Just let me sleep.”

Because she would most certainly not be teleporting halfway across the world, especially not with a passenger. At least, not without stranding them both in the aetherial sea, or depositing them in the tenkonto with half their limbs missing, or something equally horrifying. A steadying hand on her back, Aymeric ensured that she made it through the crush of the Drowning Wench (Twelve be kind, it was barely midmorning, what on the good star was with the crowd?) and safely into a room at the Mizzenmast, though not before the innkeep had pointed out that she was lucky Baderon kept one for her at all, with every other boardinghouse in the city booked out. The door had barely shut behind them when Hanami unceremoniously stepped out of her boots, collapsed face-first on the bed without bothering to draw back the covers, and dropped straight to sleep.

Having little else to do, Aymeric had set about finding what entertainment he could without leaving her alone in the room: fishing a novel from his bag and working his way through a solid third, until the sunlight through the windows had bested him and he had curled up at Hanami’s back for a nap of his own, soothed by the smell of soap and salt that clung to her scales. He only ventured out once, braving the bedlam of the lower decks to find lunch for himself (and Hanami, when she woke). The streets were even busier than the airship landing had been, the boardwalks and bridges full to bursting with foot traffic, and even stranger sights: oddly-shaped metal frames hanging from walls and over the water, cordoned stalls holding collections of oddly colorless trinkets, the function of which he couldn’t even begin to guess, and the faint but unmistakable metallic scent of magic hanging over the city like a banner.

When Hanami finally woke, the light was wearing thin with the pending evening, and she announced her return to wakefulness with a stretch and a yawn that had Aymeric’s jaw aching with sympathy from his seat across the room.

“Welcome back,” he murmured, setting aside the little sliding-tile puzzle he’d been amusing himself with. “How do you feel?”

“Mn,” she muttered, and trudged to the washroom door without so much as a glance in his direction. He busied himself with retrieving her food while he listened to the sound of running water, and so when she reappeared, hair dripping (had she stuck her head under the tap?) he had a plate laid out to greet her laden with cold-cut beef sandwiches and a little pile of popoto crisps.

“Better,” she added, apparently finally awake enough for coherency, and inhaled her belated lunch with gusto.

He waited until she was finishing the last scraps of her sandwich to ask, “Is there some sort of city holiday? I noticed the crowd this morning, but I didn’t see any signs for a particular event.”

She nodded, and covered her mouth with the back of her hand while she swallowed. “Southern Lights festival. I saw some of it when we landed last night. Seemed interesting.”

Aymeric cocked his head; Coerthas bore witness to auroras several times a year, but as far as he was aware La Noscea wasn’t far enough north or south to have the same privilege. “As in a southern aurora?”

“I do not think so?” She shrugged, wiping off her hands. “As far as I could tell it is not really for anything, except a reason to throw parties. And make gil off tourists.”

Well. Admittedly, he couldn’t argue with that logic. Ishgardian festivals near-exclusively had their roots in Halonic Orthodoxy, but the merchants and coin-ministers wouldn’t be caught complaining about the southrons who came bearing wide eyes and fat wallets.

“What would constitute a light festival?” he wondered.

Despite the shadows still present under her eyes, Hanami’s flickering half-smile seemed bright. “Do you want to find out?”

—

Once the sun set, Limsa Lominsa transformed into a veritable riot of light.

The metal frames he’d spotted by daylight lit up after dark, by means magical or mechanical he couldn’t tell—but they spiraled over the city, geometric shapes and outlines of stars and little cartoonish critters hovering over the walkways and dancing across the harbor. The stalls were occupied now with merchants hawking illuminated wares, alchemical glowsticks from Ul’dah and glowing flowers from the Shroud appearing alongside beaded jewelry and luminescent ink portraits from local vendors. There were yet more stands offering glowing facepaint to patrons of all ages, and one of the rounded walkways was mostly occupied by a massive white tarp and a dance troupe whose feet had been coated in paints that lit up in a riot of green, blue, and red; while they danced circles to the tune of a trio of musicians (all Highlanders, with a drum and a stringed bass and a configuration of canvas bag and wooden pipes that he couldn’t even begin to name) their footsteps left behind a tessellated painting that he could barely see through the crowd cheering along to the music. They weren’t the only performers: he spotted a miqo’te woman on her own elevated platform, performing a dance with weighted ribbons that lit up at the ends, leaving glittering trails wherever she turned, and a pair of young Sea Wolves trading off glowing shapes that they pulled from grimoires open at their feet, spinning diagrams of light while the crowd oohed appreciatively. Arcanists, he reasoned, after he spotted several glowing summons weaving through the crowd’s feet, carrying baskets of pamphlets or chittering directions to curious visitors.

The rest of the guilds had offerings, too: an area that Hanami informed him was called Fisherman’s Bottom was packed with families taking turns casting cheap lines into the harbor and fishing up toy jellyfish that floated at their new owners’ shoulders, while wider areas was roped off so that a group of blacksmiths could heat metal rods to glowing and shape them into all sorts of figures, the metals turning brilliant shades of blue and white against the dark evening sky.

And all of it—every lantern and light-sculpture—reflected off the water of the bay, the whole spectacle revealed twicefold, turning yet more brilliant and hypnotic the deeper the night went.

Even the food was suitably festive: when he and Hanami stopped at a stall (or rather, she did, elbowing her way through the crowd while he sought out an unoccupied bit of wall to sit on), she returned with two bowls filled with rice and sausage and seafood and peppers, each one sporting a sparkler stuck in at an angle alongside the spoons.

“They had glowing cocktails,” she told him, shouting somewhat to make herself heard over the crowd. “If you are feeling brave enough to ask how they are glowing.”

“Perhaps later,” he said, finding himself laughing at the idea—no schedule to keep, no looming meetings. Just the night and the lights, and Hanami, her own luminous eyes growing brighter by the hour as she took in the sights alongside him.

[marionmaverick]

NEW MUSE:

Warrior of Light: Eryn Aelar

Age: 29

Race: hyur/pure blooded garlean.

Appearance: dark skin with long dark green hair and bright green eyes, green freckles.

Class: Paladin, dabbles with gunblade later on.

Sexuality: gay, seems demisexual by how he reacts to flirting but actually he’s just oblivious.

Bio: Eryn woke up in a village with nonmemory of his life before the calamity, and only the vaguest memories of his life in between. A merchant saw his sword and shield and guessed he was headed for the Adventurer’s Guild in Ul’Dah, and he figured that was better than sitting around twiddling his thumbs.

He wasn’t expecting to be dragged into a secret society for having a special gift, but again, it felt easier to follow requests than stick around lost. So he nodded along with everything, and found books for all the common knowledge people assumed he should know later.

By the end of A Realm Reborn, he started to question wether the scions actually saw him as a friend. No one asked about his life after all, hence why no one knew he was just as clueless and lacking memories as Cid had been. Almost all conversations had been with him on the sidelines, or them making requests or guesses. But the coup occurred before he could confront him about his fears, and in the face of everyone’s distress he felt too guilty to add his own worries ok top of it.

He becomes much closer friends with Haurchefant, one of the few people who talk to him. He is the first person to learn that Eryn has amnesia, and that it scares him. Their talks and the religious turmoil of Ishgard is what brings him to start questioning *why* he can’t remember. Wondering if Hydaelon took his memories to be a better hero. Minifilia’s fate feels like a confirmation, and he essentially loses all faith in Hydaelon, though he still uses her gift to help others. He has no other options anyway.

Losing Haurchefant almost breaks him, but instead the budding crush he has for Aymeric turns into romance. By the end of post heavensward, they are unofficially engaged. (For the purpose of rp, this doesn’t have to be canon for any verse with someone, it’s just a general ship for his character.)

His distrust of Hydaelon and worry about the Scions feeling culminate into him eventually getting a home in Ishgard, the place he feels like he most belongs. He is more than happy to help them any time, and while he’s too polite to voice it, generally rolls his eyes at anyone suggesting *Ul’dah* Is a place he cares about, more than just a stopping point.

While his feelings stay on a back burner through Stormblood, they still remain. Some of the more observant Scions get hints that he’s unhappy outside of Ishgard and Aymeric’s company. But most are too busy with the task at hand to address it.

The artificial echo forces his amnesia to the fore front however, as it seems to interact with Hydaelon’s meddling by allowing him to see his own memories in random flashes as he does others. He sees himself with his mother, a full blooded Garlean noble, in a beautiful estate. More and more, that shows him he lived til at least the age of a teen in Garlea. It frightens him, makes him fret that maybe he was not a good man before he lost his memory. So he goes to Cid and Nero to talk about it. Afraid to discuss it with the others and be considered a traitor, or to discuss it with Arenvald and invite jealousy for apparently having a happy life for the same thing that ruined the younger man’s own. He becomes closer to the engineers because of it, and Nero starts working on trying to find out more of his history before he’s brought to the First.

Where Stormblood brought up his worries about amnesia, Shadowbringers highlights his distrust of Hydaelon and his worry that his friends only care about him as a hero. It eventually leads to him confronting yshtola and Urianger about it, and to admitting his distrust of Hydaelon after it’s revealed she is a primal.

He also gets visions of Azem’s life, thanks to his faulty echo, and finds himself drawn to Emet, wanting to know more and more.