#this is au stuff for ffxiv though

[fisherrprince]

adhandr tries to help

[azems-familiar]

“Stay.” :)

The apartment is dark and cold around him - he hasn’t bothered with the climate control in days. It hadn’t seemed worthwhile, when he spends so little time here, busy with his duties as he is. Now that Hythlodaeus is- is gone- no one else is using it, after all. What point is there in opening the curtains, in turning on the lights, in keeping it livable? This is not his home. Not any longer. Not in the absence of those who made it such.

It has been shortly over a week since the Convocation - the thirteen of them that remain - successfully oversaw the ritual that saw another half their population sacrificed to Zodiark in exchange for life, new and brilliant and beautiful, brought back to full bloom across the star. The skies glimmer the deep blue of hope, the trees lining the streets are once again laden with violet leaves, and reports from outside the city have confirmed that ecosystems are recovering with almost shocking speed. It is everything they had hoped for when they voted to put Elidibus’s solution into play, and yet all Emet-Selch can think of is the way Hythlodaeus had kissed his forehead the morning of the ritual, after refusing to listen to a single one of the reasons why his sacrifice was a foolish decision. He had tried- everything he could think of, every single logical avenue of persuasion, and yet Hythlodaeus had gently rebutted them all, until the only thing left was emotion, and- and he had not been able to bring himself to speak of the oath, now broken into too many pieces to ever repair. After all, Azem and Seleukos have long since left, and made their intent plain. 

And yet it burns anyway that Hythlodaeus, too, would not choose him.

He’d sent a message crystal to Azem and Seleukos in the aftermath of the ritual anyway, in the hopes that- something. Something. He cannot imagine that Seleukos, at least, would not come home, if only to hurl insults at him for being unable to stop Hythlodaeus - but there has been no response, and as the days pass in a blur of exhaustion and overwork, he cannot help but fear what may have become of them. Would they truly- give no response at all? Have they been hurt, out there in the wilds, as Azem desperately seeks out some way of stopping Zodiark? He doesn’t know, and it twists his chest into knots despite the fact that he knows he is no longer- welcome in their lives.

He still believes Azem will return. He must. But Azem had been ill when he left Amaurot, and angrier than Emet-Selch has ever seen him, and the repaired mask in his pocket may as well be a stone for how it weighs him down.

Emet-Selch sighs and takes his mask from his face, setting it down on the coffee table near the couch. He pushes his hood back from his face, shaking ash from his sleeves - many of the Convocation have returned to the work of governing, but his duties remain the Underworld and death, and it will be weeks until all the bodies in Amaurot have been unearthed and laid to rest. To leave that task to his Words would be- inappropriate at best, even if the aching restlessness in his veins did not drive him endlessly onward with no time for rest, and thus he spends much of his time now ensconced in the areas of the city not yet repaired, many of which are empty and hollow. His hands tremble as he does, exhaustion weighing him down, his aether reserves once again near-depleted; he does not recall how long it has been since the last time he returned to eat and try to sleep. Too long, of course, but Hythlodaeus is not here to scold him, and Seleukos would likely understand the urge, and Azem- would be too angry to care, he suspects.

(He has not touched the bedrooms since they left. He can’t bring himself to. To see the spaces they inhabited, untouched, gathering dust, as though they might just step back into his lives - Hythlodaeus especially, who is gone, and will not even be waiting in the aetherial sea when his own purpose is complete. Their absence pains him too badly without seeing the places they left behind.)

He should- eat something. There ought to still be groceries in the kitchen, nonperishables he can throw together; it hasn’t been so long since their last trip to the store. He ought to shower, wash the ash and dirt and death from his skin. Instead he merely drops down to sit on the couch, leaning heavily over himself as he rests his forearms on his thighs, gaze falling to the floor, to the dirt stuck to his boots. He cannot quite muster the willpower to unlace them.

The door clicks and creaks open, a rectangle of warm light spilling in from the hallway outside for a moment before it’s covered by shadow. Emet-Selch glances towards it without moving his head, watching the hems in his peripheral vision as they step further inside - he knows who it is, who it has to be. The relief he feels at their presence is strangely muted - knowing that they yet live, whole and hale (at least to some extent), and that they have not entirely forgotten Hythlodaeus, is a blessing, but…he knows Seleukos well enough to know how they must feel, and Azem-

You will draw the blade across my throat with your own hands.

Lethargy does not become him. The darkness in his blood pulses, pushes him to get up, to move, to act, but he has nothing left to give it. 

“Ah…he’s not home, it seems,” Azem mumbles, quietly enough Emet-Selch almost doesn’t hear him, and as the door closes behind the two of them, the lights flicker on. They cast soft shadows over the cuts and scrapes on Emet-Selch’s hands alongside the dirt, where he’d torn his skin freeing bodies from rubble. Some part of him wants to laugh at the words - this would have to still be a home for him to be in it, would it not? Ah, that nears sophistry, and he has ever found that repugnant. 

There’s some shuffling around in the entryway, and then a sharp breath in, all movement stilling. Emet-Selch closes his eyes for a moment against the sudden swelling in his throat, the near-blinding ache of the distance between them almost too much to handle. Azem’s mask burns against his skin. He ought to…to stand, to make his way over, to confirm that the two of them received his message - to allow Seleukos to shout and rage as they would, to offer them that catharsis, since he can give them naught else. To ensure Azem is…recovered from his illness, and offer him space away from Emet-Selch, if he so desires - he himself can find somewhere else to rest, if necessary. But he cannot quite make himself move, and with a sinking feeling he realizes the weeks of working himself to exhaustion at the Dark’s behest, then rising again the moment he has the strength to, are likely taking their toll on him, and his strength of will alone is no longer what it used to be. The loneliness and grief and horror of the past several months is- almost too much to bear.

After a moment, footsteps sound across the floor, and Azem kneels down between him and the table, not touching him. Seleukos does not follow, but- that’s unsurprising. “...we received the message crystal,” Azem says, and his voice is softer than Emet-Selch can ever recall hearing it - despite the anger, despite the argument, despite the shattering of every warm and kind thing between them. It’s so unexpected that he glances up, briefly, and Azem’s face is pale and pained, shadows under his silver eyes that speak to him not being fully recovered. “When was the last time you slept, or ate a meal, or had a bath?”

The question is so- inane, when compared to everything else, the shouting and the breakage and the death and the sacrifice, that Emet-Selch barks out some kind of disbelieving laugh despite himself. Trust Azem to- after everything- “You-” he starts, and then he finds he can’t finish the sentence without descending into hysteria, and tips back into the couch, covering his face with his hands. “I don’t know.” The words come out muffled.

Azem’s voice is still unfathomably gentle when he answers. “Well, we’ll change that to now, then,” he says, and there are threads of his usual warm cheer in the words, if not the tone. It’s- how is he meant to reconcile this with their last conversation? What gives Azem the right to walk in and offer his care again, as if he was not the one to declare their oaths null and void? As if he was not the one who shattered his own mask? And yet- Hythlodaeus is gone, and there is no respite from the horror they have so recently endured, and he is too exhausted and alone to refuse. “Selu…could you make something to eat? For all of us, most likely - I’ll see him to the bath.”

“I…I’ll check the pantry,” Seleukos says quietly from somewhere in the entryway, their voice strained, and there’s a moment of silence. Emet-Selch swallows hard in some vain attempt to get himself under control, tries to gather the energy to stand, and then- Azem slips arms under his knees and around his shoulders, and lifts him off the couch, for a moment staggering slightly under his weight - but less than he should be. He supposes it’s likely he’s lost weight in the past few weeks, as busy as he has been - as much as he has struggled to stop and rest.

He should- say something. But the words don’t come.

Azem carries him into the bathroom and carefully sets him down on the floor, tilting him to lean against the edge of the tub, and Emet-Selch watches dully as he rolls up his sleeves and begins to draw a bath, a slight tremor in his hands and a furrow in his brow, his lips pinched together. Were this- before the Final Days, or even merely before that meeting, Emet-Selch would reach for him, brush his bangs back behind his ear, kiss the frown away with a soft touch, but he…he will not take liberties. Even if Azem wishes to act like- like he had not forbidden Emet-Selch his name.

Eventually, as the deep tub fills, Emet-Selch rouses himself enough to say, heavily, “I asked him not to volunteer.” Begged, more like, and yet it came to naught in the end. Just as-

“...I know. I believe you,” Azem says, and for a moment the only sound is the rushing water and the faint noise of Seleukos in the kitchen. “...I’m sorry. I should have been here.”

“He had no intention of listening to anyone,” Emet-Selch says, gaze falling on the slowly-rising water. It’s- easier than watching Azem’s face. “Neither myself nor either of you. His decision was made the moment the announcement was.”

“...I know. He always was stubborn.” There’s a faint waver in Azem’s voice, and Emet-Selch swallows hard and closes his eyes, leaning his cheek against the edge of the tub. What more can he say? Seleukos, he’s certain, will think of something; he will find the strength to weather their grief somehow. He has to. Hythlodaeus would want them to find whatever relief they can, and it isn’t as though they can say anything worse than Azem already has.

The next- several minutes, or more, pass in a blur. He registers, vaguely, when Azem turns off the water, getting them both out of their robes and into the tub; the hot water soothes some of the persistent ache in his back and shoulders, and despite it all the way Azem encourages him to slump back against his chest is a comfort. He’s aware of the other man carefully, delicately washing his hair, his face, his arms, his back, everything he can easily reach, and he does his best to help, but the exhaustion crawling up on him is a nearly-physical thing now, a lead weight dragging him down, and he thinks that were it not for the buzzing beneath his skin that still, still pushes him to get up, to do his duty, to do what he must, he would have succumbed to it already.

He- should. He knows better than to- luxuriate like this, when there is so much that yet needs done, and Seleukos is owed whatever they wish to hurl at him, and Azem is- he would think this all a dream if it were not such a convincing one, for the simple fact of Azem’s kindness to him. And yet he cannot make himself, instead simply turning his face to tuck it into the crook of Azem’s neck.

“...Azem,” he whispers, and pretends his voice does not shake on the title. “Stay. Please. I- I know quite well enough that you made yourself clear, but Hythlodaeus…for his sake, if not mine.”

“Helios, to you,” Azem says softly, running fingers through his hair, and Emet-Selch would drag his eyes open to stare if it didn’t mean moving. “I do not expect reciprocity after what I said.” He lets out a long breath, then adds, “...and yes, I will. I should never have left you.”

“...I never revoked your permission,” Emet-Selch says, too-quiet. He wishes he had more energy for this conversation - wishes he could make himself look and see the expression on Azem’s face. Helios’s face? Is- “You seemed…quite certain; do not renege on your words if you do not mean it. We both know I would drive the blade through my own heart first.”

Azem’s breath hitches, chest shuddering beneath Emet-Selch in a near-flinch, and his voice cracks through the center as he speaks again. “I am Helios to you, if you wish that,” he says, one arm tightening slightly around Emet-Selch’s shoulders. The touch is a comfort he has missed since…Helios first left Amaurot to seek out information on the Final Days.

“...Helios, then. Stay.”

Helios does not speak again. When the water begins to cool, he opens the drain, and carefully wrangles them both out of the tub, getting towels to dry them off; Emet-Selch attempts to summon the aether for a spell to do the same, but it fizzles out before it can ever take effect, his reserves too depleted even for such a simple thing. Helios hushes him gently at the attempt, wrapping one hand around his fingers, and he…sighs quietly and allows it, tilting into Helios’s side. Has he forgiven the man for their harsh parting? He…is not entirely certain. But forgiveness does not matter, not right now.

He loses time to the blur of his own tiredness again, he thinks, because when next he is aware, Helios is carefully tucking him into their bed, the pillows arranged to prop him upright, and Seleukos is near him carrying a tray with bowls and glasses on it. Emet-Selch eyes it somewhat dubiously as they set it down atop the low bookshelf - he doesn’t feel particularly hungry, even though he knows he needs to eat - and distracted by that thought, it takes him a moment to realize Helios intends to spoonfeed him. Humiliating, honestly.

“I am quite capable of feeding myself,” he whispers, lifting a trembling hand towards the bowl, and Helios swallows hard and offers him the spoon, though not the bowl. The moment Emet-Selch takes it, he folds his own hand around Emet-Selch’s, steadying, and…perhaps he is grateful for this, after all.

“...aye,” Helios says, raspy, a tremor in his voice, “but right now I…need to care for you. You can be however cross you like at me later.”

Seleukos mutters something under their breath at that, though he doesn’t catch the words, and Helios shoots them a quick look before nudging Emet-Selch to eat, and…and he does, slowly, even though the soup is mostly-tasteless (oh, he’s certain Seleukos did a perfectly fine job with it; everything has been tasteless as of late). Helios’s hand around his keeps him from spilling anything, and he manages some two-thirds of the bowl before the lethargic heaviness suffusing his muscles leaves it too difficult to keep trying. Helios’s face twists painfully when he refuses the rest of the bowl, but he just nods and sets it aside, offering a glass of water that he accepts. The water…clears his head, he supposes, in the sense that without the thirst he almost hadn’t noticed he finds himself slumping against the pillows, eyes heavy, tilting into Helios’s hand as he runs gentle fingers through Emet-Selch’s hair. The touch is soft and sweet and stars above but this is what he had been missing, what he had so desperately craved to fall into - the same warmth that had been so easily taken away when Helios stormed out of Amaurot, angry and bitter and seething with it.

Some part of him fears that if he succumbs to the exhaustion entirely, he will have dreamt all that softness into existence.

“...I won’t leave this time,” Helios murmurs, leaning forward to press a kiss to Emet-Selch’s forehead. He lingers for a moment, then pulls back, shifting around to sit next to Emet-Selch on the bed, and Emet-Selch tips sideways to lay his head against Helios’s shoulder, eyes falling closed. “I’ll be here when you wake. I- I promise.”

That, at least, he can believe; Helios does not break promises. Or- he’d believed that, once. Even with their oath in pieces around them…he supposes he can believe it here, too.

It takes time for sleep to come for him. As he waits, Helios’s arm around him, caught in the heaviness of the last of his energy, he hears Seleukos say, “Helios…”

Helios trembles beneath Emet-Selch’s cheek, a single, aching sob breaking through his chest. “...what have I done?” he chokes out, and turns to bury his face in Emet-Selch’s hair.

Emet-Selch would answer him - this is not your fault, being here is enough, Zodiark will save us if we merely keep the faith - but he has nothing left to speak with, and as his- as the two of them continue their conversation, it all slips away, far beyond his grasp.

Blackness comes, and finally, finally, he welcomes it.

[xinghai]

Grief

[ocarinaofpride]

its kinda crazy ive been insane about sephiroth and ganondorf for a good 2 years almost now. Love to see it

[verflares]

thinking about it more and i Do think making my own linkverse designs would be really fun tbhhhh but. it's definitely smth that'll take more than a few months to cook before i'd be ready or want to draw anything out 😩

[anneapocalypse]

I showed Mr. Apocalypse the graphical update preview images and he remarked that the most improved were the Au Ra because they no longer look dead in the eyes, and I think he's right.

[eemamminy-art]

Hi, I've been seeing you post a lot of FFXIV stuff, and I've been kind of interested in trying it for a long while but am absolutely broke. Do you think it's worth getting into even if it's just the free trial version?

Omg yes!! The free trial honestly has a LOT in it, it takes you through the base game (A Realm Reborn) and the first two expansions (Heavensward and Stormblood, the latter of which is my favorite in the whole storyline), which goes up to level 70. You have a few limitations on the free trial, such as being unable to send private messages or join free companies (guilds, basically), but you can still party up with people and fully engage with the story and gameplay! They also have made it now where if you want to have a solo experience, the main scenario has support for partying with a group of NPCs instead of other players too, though there are a few parts where you'll need to play with real people. But I might be presuming too much, maybe you like the social aspect of MMOs :D

The character customization is really nice! There are a bunch of different races to play as, though sadly two of them will be locked behind a paid subscription (viera, which are bunny-people, and hrothgar, which are like a lion anthro race), but all the others are available on the free trial. I love making OCs in it, it's a lot of fun! I'm really fond of roegadyn, which are giants basically, and elezen, which are elves but if the elves were weird gangly pointy things. There's also cat and lizard kemonomimi (miqo'te and au ra respectively), chibis as the smallfolk race (lalafells), and stock standard humans in two varieties (midlander and highlander hyurs, one is like a normal human and the other are like bodybuilders). I'm probably forgetting something but.... Yeah!

The story is really good... ✪ ω ✪ Like extremely good!! I have been a fan of Final Fantasy for my whole life and not really ever much for multiplayer games, but FFXIV's story grabs hold of you in a way that a single player rpg does!! It's amazing! I've played it on and off since the ps3 beta of the game a decade ago, it's really special to me :3

I might be biased because I have like, nearly 12000 hours logged of playtime but.. yeah I think it's worth getting into ahaha

If you had specific questions about it I'd be glad to answer! I'm honestly kind of surprised to get an ask like this since I have been posting my art from ffxiv for the last few years, but I'm assuming you followed me for something else since I draw a variety of things! But always glad to share the gospel about this beloved game ahaha

[paintedscales]

FFXIV Write 2024 :: Day Eleven

Prompt: Surrogate Characters: Nomin tal Kheeriin, Y'shtola Rhul Word Count: 1,134 Notes + Warnings: Digimon AU (I'm stuck here, I guess); Leukemia stuff

Master List

Prev: Glass

The door to the room opened with a loud and audible ‘ka-chunk,’ and Nomin jumped, rousing Teiamon from her slumber. The person that walked in was a woman. Her hair was a striking platinum blonde in color, visible even in the dark of the room; a long white coat was draped over her body, marking her as a doctor, a black blouse underneath with an equally black pair of dress pants. A stethoscope hung around her neck, its silvery parts glinting in what light bounced off of it.

“You're awake,” the woman spoke, her voice carrying a rather authoritative tone to it. Pacing over, the doctor took up a stool and rolled it over, sitting next to the bed. “How are you feeling?”

“... Hungry…” Nomin quietly replied. She looked around the room again, the absence of both Bayarmaa and Esenaij feeling like a gaping emptiness. Even with Teiamon at her side, the unfamiliarity of the hospital and her situation made everything that much more apparent. “Where are my siblings?”

“They had no idea when you'd be up; they've since left after we informed them of your condition. But…don't worry, they'll be back soon,” the woman informed Nomin.

“My condition…?” The fear from before tickled at Nomin’s mind, though she was able to keep it much more subdued now that she was, from the look and feel of things, stabilized.

The doctor nodded in response and then said, “we took some blood to have a look at what's going on with you. Now, we don't have the most definitive answers right now, but we do know that you're dealing with leukemia.”

Nomin’s brow twitched with some confusion. She had never heard this term before.

“... Will…Will it kill me? What is it?” Nomin asked.

“Luckily for you, leukemia is an easily treatable cancer,” the doctor said with a small smile. “But we do need to know what kind of leukemia we're dealing with. We hope that it's type ALL versus type AML. Acute lymphoblastic leukemia versus acute myelogenous leukemia.”

To say that Nomin was stunned to hear this revelation would have been an understatement. She stared at the doctor, mouth slightly agape, and clear disbelief in her eyes.

She had cancer?

“I know it's a lot to take in,” the doctor said, filling the silence. “But so long as we can keep you taken care of, you'll make a recovery into remission in a couple years.”

“‘Years’?” Nomin gawped. In the back of her mind, she knew that cancer -- any type of cancer -- was bad. Simply, she was far too in a state of disbelief that she had it that even the most basic of information escaped her.

“That's the best case scenario, yes,” the doctor confirmed. She then stood up from the stool, taking her stethoscope from around her neck and wearing it to use. Motioning toward Nomin, she asked, “can you lean forward for me? I want to take a listen to your lungs.”

Nomin slowly nodded, inching forward and then leaning as much as she could manage. When the doctor reached back behind Nomin and she felt the cold pressure of the diaphragm upon her skin, she only just realized then that she had been changed into a hospital gown.

‘When did that happen…?’

“Deep breaths for me,” came the doctor's instruction, and Nomin did as asked. The diaphragm moved, and Nomin took another breath. 

Again.

‘What’s this doctor's name? Did she say at all?’

Again…

‘No… Or if she did, it was when I was having trouble hearing anything… I don't even remember meeting her.’

It was finally removed, and the doctor smiled. “Everything sounds good with your breathing so far.”

“... You didn't introduce yourself…” Nomin finally commented.

“Oh…” A look of realization fell over the doctor's face. “I'm your oncologist, Dr. Shtola Rhul. You can just call me Dr. Rhul.”

‘Dr. Rule…??’

“But, now that that's out of the way,” Dr. Rhul sighed, taking up a clipboard next to the computer in the room. She stood close to where the light was coming in from the door. “Maybe you can answer some questions for me that your siblings couldn't?”

Nomin shrugged. “I can try…”

“Do you know if your parents had a medical history regarding cancer, or any other ailments?” Dr. Rhul asked. Nomin shook her head.

“No one knows anything about my biological parents… At least, that's what I've always been told…” Nomin replied. “My siblings are my only family now since my foster parents died.”

“I see… That is rather unfortunate. But,” Dr. Rhul wrote down a couple things before tucking the clipboard away under her arm. “We'll take as good of care of you as we can. Is it only your siblings you live with?”

Nomin nodded.

“Hm… In cases such as these, it wouldn't be entirely uncommon to have…” Dr. Rhul rolled her wrist as she thought of the term. “A…surrogate parent that is assigned to you.”

“I don't want a parent.” Nomin’s tone was flat, and Dr. Rhul chuckled softly.

“They won't be a parent parent… If the circumstances are that your older brother is your legal guardian, but you are not necessarily in his legal custody, this surrogate parent will be here to help make medical decisions with you -- or, should worse come to worse -- for you.”

Nomin frowned in response, not really liking the implications. She almost forgot Teiamon was there, but once she felt the weight of her partner Digimon pressing against her, Nomin placed a hand on her head. Of course, that also made another question spring forth.

“What about Teiamon? You won’t make her stay with my siblings the entire time, will you?” Nomin asked. “She’s…she’s my partner Digimon. You can’t separate us…” ‘Not again…’

Dr. Rhul’s expression was hard to read in the dark. Her features seemed to be…sympathetic as she looked down at Teiamon. “You don’t need to worry. I wouldn’t dare try to separate you two. In fact, I had a discussion advocating for letting you keep your partner Digimon close to you. After all, following laws and regulations for those that do have partner Digimon, it would be remiss of us to go against separating you when it is very much against the law to be as such.”

For a moment, Nomin pursed her lips. It seemed Dr. Rhul was pretty knowledgeable about that. Nomin herself was aware of the laws in place for partner Digimon to stay with their Digidestined humans. But then again, it was and always will be something that affects her directly.

“Well!” Dr. Rhul started. “It’s a bit late for our hospital’s kitchen to get you anything, but I’ll see if I can’t get a nurse to bring you a drink and a snack. The options are quite limited, though.”

“That’s fine…”

[galehowl]

Still thinking constantly about several projects I want to work on... For several different fandoms lol.

I want to continue my WoL's story in FFXIV, actually flesh it out more and do much more art and maybe small comic pages for it

Starfall, a Clone Wars AU, focused on several character groups on both sides trying to survive the war and figure out the truth behind the events and figures that led to it happening, and how to stop it; main focus on a few Separatist characters, and Padme and Bail Organa being the main protagonists focused on on the Republic's side

Aurora, the old as heck Digimon story I keep picking at, that is my go to for making nostalgic urban fantasy stuff that I love, though it falls everywhere on the scale of expected Digimon plot stuff, slice-of-life, to horror

Remake the stories of some of my oldest WoW characters, contained in the version of Azeroth that I like to imagine it'd be like, with more nitty-gritty details and worldbuilding, and mostly focusing on the timeframe from Vanilla to Pandaria's events

A bunch more smaller personal projects still in the works lol

[squapejuice]

Personal info carrd - 30's - sapphic - Mixed Indigenous (lnu) - not human (not a joke) - artist and gposer. If you know my vtuber identity no you don't. Keep it separate because I don't want to be harassed here.

This is my "everything blog" where I post anything I want - you'll get something like 60% ffxiv and 40% everything else. We are unrepentantly HORNY ON MAIN. Trans rights are human rights etc.

Not spoiler free. I also frequently forget to tag stuff.

Characters and tags below the cut!

All of my characters are available for RP connections, but for shipping beyond hookups and casual connections I require planning and good chemistry between them.

Lalafell players whose characters are explicitly adults are welcome here.

Name: Xavier Hayward

Age: 28

Orientation: Polyamorous bisexual (strong preference to women)

Pronouns: They/them -> she/her -> All Others

Gender: A boyfriend who looks like a girlfriend that you had in february of last year (woman-aligned nonbinary)

A dour dark knight, haunted by their past and the path they now have to walk. But beneath that lies a gregarious and social person with a snarky sense of humour and a true love of good conversation, good food, and good drinks.

She'll be the first to admit to being a bit of a hedonist and play(tom)boy, living for the moment (and for their duty to the ones they've vowed to protect). In general Xavier's life has been one tragedy after another, and the fact that she's even still alive is a miracle in and of itself - from being used as the catalyst for a voidsent summoning as a baby (saved only by the power of the Echo) to the tragic loss of her first fiancee to void corruption (the tragedy that originally set them on the path of becoming a Dark Knight), it's safe to say that Xavier really, really, really has a personal grudge against voidsent.

Married to Vanille, but they're both pretty openly polyamorous swingers.

Unsundered name: Dionysus, follower of Azem (Azem in WoL AU)

Carrd - Tag - Aesthetic Tag

Name: Vanille Hayward nee Brune

Age: 25

Orientation: Demiromantic lesbian

Pronouns: She/her

Gender: Cis woman

A woman who was born into humble beginnings, Vanille worked as a maid in a noble house and became close friends with the daughter of the lord as a child. Her dream was always to become a conjurer, but upon her friend encouraging her to do so, she chose a different path and became a Green Witch instead, embracing both the beauty and horror of nature. Over time, she came to realize her romantic feelings for her childhood friend, and took a leap of faith to pursue them. During her deployment in Garlemald, she suffered an incident involving an exploding warmachina that left her partially deaf in her left ear and suffering minor brain damage, which results in chronic migraines.

Married to Xavier, but they're both pretty openly polyamorous swingers.

Unsundered name: Idunn, an ancient known for creating plant concepts, particularly edible fruit and fungi.

Carrd (WIP) - Tag - Aesthetic Tag

Name: Lian Aman

Age: 29

Orientation: Lesbian

Pronouns: She/her/Whatever

Gender: Neither a woman, nor a nunh, nor a tia. Something else non-miqo'te can't comprehend. She doesn't mind if other peoples view her as a woman though.

An exile of the Zu tribe of Seekers of the Sun due to her father being a Keeper of the Moon. She lost her mother early in life and almost lost herself to a somnus addiction that she developed as she lived on the streets of Ul'dah, selling sex services to get by day by day. It was after a chance encounter that she travelled to Thavnair in an effort to sober up and make something of herself. Now she's an accomplished bard, dancer, and mother, who makes most of her income selling sexual health potions and toys to bored housewives.

Her and her wife have an open relationship.

Unsundered name: Phryne

Carrd (Reworking) - Tag

Name: Gwyn Mahina

Age: 30s

Orientation: Lesbian

Pronouns: Doesn't Care (most people just default to she/her)

Gender: Gender is a charming quirk people outside the forest do. It's okay if you see Gwyn as a woman.

Gwyn comes from a reclusive and secretive Keeper of the Moon tribe and went out into wider society in order to hone her skills as a healer and gain new experiences. As a Priestess of Menphina, her day to day involves dealing with love - from counseling couples to have healthier relationships, to playing matchmaker, to more physical pursuits. She believes in spreading love of every type, wherever she finds it.

She does not understand monogamy.

Unsundered name: Freya

Carrd - Tribe Carrd - Tag - Aesthetic Tag

Name: Phobia

Age: 25

Orientation: Bisexual

Pronouns: She/They -> No others please

Gender: Transfeminine nonbinary

Dionysus, the Ancient, like all other ancients, was split into 14 shards. The shard on the Source is Xavier Hayward. The shard on the ninth, a citizen of Alexandria, is Phobia.

Not much is known about Phobia's childhood, even to her. This is because she lost her parents at a young age, and their memories were stolen from her. With no-one to hold her back, she went on to become a promising fighter in the Arcadion, wielding a Hoarhound (Fenrir) soul. However, after a terrible scandal involving a relationship with a fellow combatant Phobia stepped away from the ring and pursued a career as a hunter, where she was scouted for Oblivion. She then took to the spotlight once again as an Air Wheeler Racer and sports commentary streamer; but more functionally, as Oblivion's propagandist.

Engaged to Serenity; they're both openly polyamorous swingers.

Tag - Aesthetic Tag

(This character is not an actual in-game entity but can be RPed with on request)

Name: Serenity

Age: 23

Orientation: Lesbian

Pronouns: She/her (she doesn't really care if people use others though)

Gender: Cis woman

Idunn, the ancient, like all other ancients, was split into 14 shards. The shard on the Source is Vanille Brune; the shard on the ninth, a citizen of Alexandria, is Serenity.

Serenity is, in her opinion, painfully average. Since she was young she loved watching old recordings of nature from before the dome came down and levin destroyed most of the world. As such, she learned a method of imbuing her paintings with aether so that others could experience the natural world. This method, a sort of rudimentary pictomancy that she could potentially develop if she were to ever step outside of Heritage Found, earned her quite a bit of fame in the art world - even being complimented by Queen Sphene herself! Her artistry - combined with her quick wit and satirical sense of humor - earned her quite a following in the technologically-connected world of Solution 9, and she came to be something of an influencer - though she still doesn't quite get why anyone would care about her.

Engaged to Phobia; they're both openly polyamorous swingers.

Tag - Aesthetic Tag

(This character is not an actual in-game entity but can be RPed with on request)

[driftward]

Title: FFXIV Write 2024 - 28. Deleterious Characters: Zoissette Vauban, Solita Grey Rating: Teen Summary: The effect that naturalist had been having on the town seer was subtle, but the damage may yet be long lasting Notes: Weird Wild West AU - Desertwalkers

Solita held on tight as her chocobo's feet thundered over the landscape.

She was furious at the situation. She was furious with herself. She felt stupid, and it was only her own fault.

The naturalist!

The effect of that damned naturalist had been subtle, insidious. Solita had kept a close eye on her. She had been careful with the information she had doled out to her, kept an ear open for any rumors that surrounded her, had listened whenever she had come back excited about some discovery or new learning. She had been so convinced that the woman was a risk, that she was hiding something nefarious, that she was going to be a problem, that she completely blinded herself to the truth.

She had become blind to her own self, failing to listen to her own intuitions, ignoring the reality of the woman.

Zoissette Vauban was a well meaning, earnest, curious idiot.

Nothing more. That was it. She was not here for profit, she was not here to try and exploit the land, to try to defraud people, not here to run a long confidence game. She was exactly what she claimed to be.

And now, Solita's passive negligence had put her in danger. She had trusted Solita to provide enough information to guide her through these lands. Solita had been careful to follow the letter of their agreement, but not its spirit, and now it may well be the fell spirits of this land that would lead to the fall of the naturalist.

The real shame of it was that Zoissette was a useful woman. The Scions had learned much from her work, and she was eager to go about it. Solita could have nurtured a very different relationship with the woman, possibly even developed her into a member of the coven. Instead, if Zoissette survived this, she would almost have to drop her as a client.

Perhaps she would be amenable to a new contract. Starting over as though a fresh client, and allow the mistake to be overlooked.

And perhaps Bealsar would turn over his town, Louisoix would make a triumphant return, and Thancred would stop mooning over that school mistress and just ask her out already.

There were other more immediate problems. Solita cast about, clinging tighter to the chocobo saddle while she sunk herself gently into the Weave, feeling it whip by her as she tried to turn her sight outward, further, to catch any sign of the naturalist, while also keeping a wary eye out for any cerul rheums. This area of the ceruleum fields were dangerous, with fiends that were drawn to the energies of the area, scattered open shallows in the ground where the stuff came to the surface, and the occasional fire as one ignited for some reason or another.

A flash drew her sight. A loud bang. A rheum, ballooning and popping, possibly splitting into two. And a flare, cerul catching, casting its light high into the night. She hauled around, and brought the chocobo to bear. As they got closer to where she thought she had seen something, she drew her staff, and readied it, pulling on Weave, waiting to face whatever she saw there.

They were close, now. She thought she could see Zoissette Vauban.

She definitely could see a spirit. A ghostly spectral form with a purple aura, sharp and stark in the folds of the Weave. As they approached, it turned towards them, and she saw its eyes flash into purple orbs it as it brought its hands up. Tendrils of energy flowed off of it and its skirt - it was wearing a dress- flared out.

Solita barreled off the chocobo saddle, and rolled as she hit the ground, bringing her staff and her power to bear.

"Mistress!" the ghost called out, placing itself between Solita and Zoissette. Zoissette spun around, bringing a gun to bear.

"Solita?"

The Weave crackled around them, waxing with power being drawn, already flexing from whatever had happened previously. It was the thickness of the air before a storm, lightning in the wings of the clouds, power eager to be wielded and released.

The ghost's hair and form were wild, but it was not attacking Zoissette. In fact, it had materialized in the real, and small hexagonal shapes were appearing in the air wherever Solita pointed her staff. A shield of some sort. Of Pattern?

Solita looked to Zoissette, and held, looking for an opening against the ghost, but waiting.

Zoissette lowered her gun, and put a hand on the ghost's shoulder. "It is alright, Lavender. I know her. She means us no harm."

The tension held for a moment longer, but then the storm passed. Lavender lowered her hands, and she faded, leaving the material but remaining manifested. Only those sensitive to Weave would be able to see her, now, as her form became more ghostly, see through, but her outline and shape became more defined.

She looked like an elf. One with pale blue-gray skin, wearing a very old fashioned purple dress. The glow left her eyes, and she looked quite normal. Hovering slightly, feet above the firmament, but those eyes were unusual for a ghost. They were quite human.

Lavender inspected Solita warily, but folded her hands in front of her. Solita, her breath still hard, and her heart still pounding, slowly put her staff away, and stood up straight, regarding her in turn. The Weave responded, calming, the feeling of static in the air dying away.

"I saw a flash in the weave," said Solita. "I thought to investigate. Is all well?"

Zoissette nodded, turning away again, and crouching near what looked like thick ceruleum-coloured gel on the ground. "It is now. Here, look what I found. Some kind of rheum, but I do not think I have ever seen the type. It could shift form and mimic shapes, and I think it apparated from the immaterial."

"I assensed its approach and reacted accordingly, notifying the mistress," said Lavender, who was still keeping a sharp eye on Solita. "She was able to use her gun to dispatch it."

Solita walked over, slowly, trying to effect a casualness so as not to offend the ghost further. She peered over Zoissette's shoulder at the remains of the rheum.

"Cerul rheum," she said. "A risk out here after the misadventure of another naturalist. There are warding stones that are meant to keep them at bay, but we've not yet been able to replenish all of them. The particulars of those stones which have the correct properties and whence we might source them is a problem we have yet to determine the solution to."

Zoissette nodded, and pulled out a notebook, taking a few notes. Solita glanced over at Lavender.

"The ghost is with you, then?"

"Ah, how terribly rude of me, I apologize. Give me a moment to finish this here..."

Zoissette finished scribbling her note, then stood, and turned to face the two.

"Lavender, please meet Solita Grey, the seer who has been helping me with my research since we have arrived. Solita Grey, this is Lavender, my friend and constant companion. She is a ghost, one with a long history. She has been with the family for generations."

Lavender gave a curtsey in midair, and Soltia, after a moment, returned the gesture.

Zoissette let out a long sigh, and settled into the ground. "And now, after that little demonstration of hers, I fear I need to sit, rest, recollect myself, and probably eat something. I think I shall return to camp. Will you be joining us?"

Solita looked around, but saw no further threats.

"...I think I had better," she said.

Zoissette nodded, and after a few moments, got herself back up. As a group, they retrieved her chocobo which was some distance away, and over the next bell or so made their way over to where Zoissette had set up a bed roll, a fire pit, and some minor concessions to comfort out under the stars.

Solita was glad that Thancred had the presence of mind to always be prepared, and that she would have a bedroll of her own.

Assuming, of course, that she remained welcome.

Zoissette performed a few minor camp chores before slumping in a seat next to the fire. Lavender hovered nearby, keeping an eye out, but did glance over from time to time.

Solita settled to sit nearby, in the rare situation of being uncertain how to start the conversation she wished to have.

"I must admit, I am surprised to see you out here," said Zoissette. "You have never shown much interest in accompanying me on my field work, and such is certainly not within the scope of our agreements."

"Providing you with the means and information to accomplish your tasks is, however," said Solita. "And in that, I am here to correct a failure."

"Oh?"

Her stomach tightened. She lifted her chin, and squarely met Zoissette's gaze, looking directly at her own reflection in the other woman's glasses.

"I neglected to inform you of the full scope of the threats you would face here," she said. "I knew well that the warding stones had been damaged by a previous excursion, and that the full nature of the cerul rheums was yet unknown. You would have benefitted from that knowledge, and from having a Weave-worker such as myself with you."

Zoissette nodded. "Well, thank you, then, for coming out here."

"Do not thank me," said Solita. "The failure on my part was intentional."

Zoissette tilted her head.

"Why?"

No prevarication, no outburst. Just a simple question, cut to the quick.

It was near how Solita would have handled the matter herself, though with rather more heat.

She did not quail. That was not her way. She would face this, with honesty and truth.

"We have had incidents with so-called naturalists before. Might you recall our first meeting, where I described the actions I suspected you might engage in while you were here? You dismissed it at the time as sensationalist drivel."

Zoissette frowned, but nodded.

"I but told you the tales of those who preceded you. We have had trouble with naturalists before, and though I am not wont to paint with an overly broad stroke, the last one made a particularly poor impression. With particularly disastrous consequences. The consequences which led to the re-emergence and adaptation of the very cerul rheums, one of which you encountered tonight."

"You thought I might be like that."

"I thought you were. You had many of her mannerisms. A severe-seeming politeness, a genteel affectation. Particularity on matters to a fine and sharp point. A keen mind, and sharp eyes."

"I do not not even know what that is meant to mean."

"It means naught, but I allowed it to mean much. I was so certain you were a threat, that I refused to take you at face value for who you are. Even as you demonstrated, again and again, the inherent honesty and truth of your spirit."

Solita was angry. Angry at herself. Angry that she had let the situation get this far. This was idiotic. The actions of a woman half her age, and half again her supposed wisdom.

"I was a fool, and through my negligence, I thought to allow you to tarry forth, thinking you might come to a poor end, and I would at last be rid of you."

She took a deep breath in, and let it out, calming herself. It would not do to have Zoissette think she might be mad at her. "A dear friend had to point out my folly. And once I realized it fully, I traveled after you, to attempt to rectify it. Though it seems, I need not have bothered." She laughed a little. "Always prepared. In your care and in your intelligence, you were more than the match for the wilderness. But nevertheless, I have come here... not only to make up for my severe error in judgment, but to apologize.

"Lady Zoissette Vauban, I apologize for placing you in undue risk through my own negligence and malfeasance. I promise you, I shall not allow such to happen again."

Lavender hovered close to her, frowning at her, and swept around her slowly, menacingly. "We might leave her out here, mistress. She was so keen for you to fend for yourself. We could let her do the same." She stopped in front of Solita, and grinned broadly at her, baring her teeth. Solita just looked back flatly at her. "I do not doubt her chocobo could be encouraged to keep us company instead."

"No. Leave her alone. It is okay, Lavender."

Lavender turned her nose up at Solita, and with a 'hmph!', floated back to hover closely, protectively, near Zoissette.

"I accept your apology. Thank you," said Zoissette. "And thank you for coming after me."

"You would thank me?" said Solita, incredulous. "I have confessed to seeing to your end. Surely you should be upset. Angry."

Zoissette watched the campfire for a bit, before reaching up, and taking her glasses off. She rubbed idly at their lenses with a cloth, before closing them, and just holding them in her hands.

"I should be. Maybe. I do not know. Maybe I should get mad, or yell about it, or follow Lavender's advice and leave you out here without supply, but I do not want to do any of those things. Would it help anything?"

"No. I suppose it would not."

"Then I am inclined to accept your apology and you at face value. There has been no harm done. You have treated honestly with me, save for this singular omission, and made no attempt to harm me directly. You have made a mistake. That was an error. But you did not compound it by ignoring it, or running from it. You faced it. And you tried to correct for it. I find it hard to be angry about that. Tired, maybe. Disappointed? I guess? A little... let down, I suppose."

She should leave that alone. She should accept Zoissette's graciousness, and exit the conversation as gracefully as she could manage, spend the night, and then terminate their agreements and return to Stonewood.

"Let down?"

"We worked well together. I liked that. Other than this one incident, you have always been forthright with me. Blunt, but I like that about you."

"We might still yet."

Zoissette looked over at Solita. Her eyes were studying Solita. Inspecting her.

"Perhaps... we begin again," offered Solita. "This time, I shall leave my preconceptions behind, if you will forgive me my transgressions."

"Okay."

"... okay?"

Zoissette nodded.

"You might ask for guarantees, or for more favorable terms. Though I know I am the one who offered it, I must confess, it was in haste. I did not expect you to accept it so readily."

"That would defeat the purpose of starting over," said Zoissette, now watching the fire. "I am willing to accept your proposal, but only if it is a clean start. For both of us. Deal?"

"...deal."

"Then we have an accord."

Lavender huffed, and rolled her eyes, but after a moment, she bowed her head. "As the mistress commands, I shall follow her lead."

She meant it. She really meant it, Solita realized. Zoissette was willing to sweep past all this, to ignore all that had happened. She was either hopelessly naive, or the strongest woman for malms around.

"You are too good for Stonewood," said Solita.

Zoissette looked up at her, sharply.

"No."

Her voice was deep. Her tone flat. Her words dark.

"I am really not."

The fire continued to crackle into the desert night, as Zoissette unfolded her glasses, and put them back on. Her eyes once more hidden from the world. Solita could see the reflection in the lenses.

"Well," she said, well after the ensuing silence had made its weight felt, "If it is all the same to you, I think I shall turn in. Shall we set up watches?"

"No need. Lavender?"

Lavender bowed, and floated up a little higher, to get a better view of the surrounding area.

"Well," said Solita, feeling unusually awkward. She got up and retrieved her bedroll, setting it up and laying down on top of it. She faced away from the fire, looking out into the night.

"Good night, Miss Vauban."

"Sleep well, Lady Grey."

She wouldn't.

[flame-of-tar-valon]

writer asks 🐇📚🔪 ^_^

🐇 ⇢ do you prefer writing original characters, reader inserts, or a mix of both? 

I don't like making reader inserts because I spend way too much time in my head on characterization. Prior to writing for FFXIV, I never actually wrote any fanfic that had original characters, but FFXIV is a game where having an original character is... fairly unavoidable.

I used to exclusively use established canon characters, which was hell to research because I had to get the characterization of their internal monologue just right. ESPECIALLY if I was deviating from canon because I had to make it distinct in a compelling way while still showing a logical progression from canon to fic. I had a lot of fun with this in my (since deleted) Homestuck AU where the beta kids didn't get to play sburb until 3 years later.

📚 ⇢ what's the last thing you wrote down in your notes app? 

Lue-Reeq / Tataru Giott / Estinien Taynor / Nero Granson / Edda

This was my brainstorming for my Shadowbringers AU where the closely-intertwined-fate people sent to the First are Tataru, Nero, and Estinien. I was trying to come up with a fourth person, so that each of the travelers from the Source gets to help one of the Virtue Hunters, and I settled on Edda. For reasons. :)

🔪 ⇢ what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

Oh boy. Ummm let me think. I researched a lot about geology/chemistry for the Beryl Throne / Ironbook novellas I started ages ago. I started learning about comparative political geography when I started outlining my series about The Widow and the Dragons. I spend a lot of time looking up name etymologies and linguistics stuff whenever I make a new character who needs a name. Idk. I've looked up a lot of sailing terminology and naval tactics stuff (there's actually an ATLA fic I read that does an amazing job with this!) and similarly I've researched a lot of culinary stuff too. Also weaponry. I have recently spent hours researching rapiers/smallswords/hangers/cutlasses/etc for Lleidspaer.

None of these are super weird though, so idk. I did a deep dive into the history of tarot when I was homebrewing a ttrpg thing once.

[omgfloofy]

State of the Fics

It's been awhile, but since I got laid off from my job, a lot of my writing kind of fell into shambles. However, I've started to pick up the pieces again. So let's get going down the list.

The Insurgent King

This has been a lot of the focus of things I've been dealing with lately. I recently finished story 3 ("The King's Gambit"), which is a Regis POV flashback story to show how the fall of Insomnia happened in this AU.

Now, I'm working on story 4, "A Metropolis Under Twilight," which will be an adventure in the occupied Insomnia with Noctis and Prompto. They may be older and changed by their lives since they began this underground operation, but it will show that some things still don't change that much.

The Insurgent King will be 11 stories accompanied by a number of side stories. At this point, the side story count has gone up to 7. All of these are expected to be single chapter shorts that fill in the blanks of stuff between the major stories themselves.

Once again, think of Insurgent King like a TV series in its storytelling. You'll have major "episodes" and then some that are kind of filler, with a little bit of additional content for the overarching narrative.

The next side story that will be published on AO3 is called 'Illumino.'

dal segno al coda

This is still in the works. I'd put part 1 at like 70% complete. The first third of part 1 has been handed off to my crew of beta readers and once I have the initial writing of part 1 at 100%, with all of it ready for beta, I will likely begin publishing it to AO3. I can't promise a regular schedule with this when that comes, especially with parts 2 and 3 out there.

Regardless, we're getting closer.

Date Night, the last of the two preview stories, is almost done. I think I'm about 50% complete with chapter 4 of that story as well.

Twilight

A Part to Play - This is going to be a really really long one-shot. And it's about halfway done.

Ebb and Flow - I've started writing this, but I have no intention of posting this until I'm done with the series. This is decisively the end of it.

There are a few other stories - I've got one about the puzzle box and one with Noct and Sania running into each other again. Additionally, I've got another 'on the job' short started.

Random Questions

My Ys based prompt series is in the works still. I've picked at a few things on it again recently. And I'll look back at it again down the line. I'm just super focused on other stories right now.

Other Stories

Helldiving - A silly FFXV & Helldivers crossover, mostly in the fact that it's the guys playing Helldivers. I need to make a lot of media before I get any further into this.

Untitled One-Shot FFXV Crossover Fic - Started. I have the intro, but I need to write for the other half of it. This will be not too different from how the FFXV event worked in FFXIV.

Inconvenient Blessings - Little Noct and Regis having parenting trouble. Don't say things in front of your kids that you don't want them saying.

Barber of Insomnia (working title) - So. Uh... The Barber of Seville rewritten to work with the FFXV cast. It'll be silly.

Lost Traveler - Lost Universe and No Man's Sky crossover fic. I don't know how long this is supposed to go, yet. I don't have an endgame in it right now, but it's there.

Untitled Adol & Laxia Adventure One Shot - This is going to be a one-shot adventure of Adol and Laxia stealing back one of her dad's artifacts that had not been returned after she restored the name of her family's house. Not sure how long this is going to be.

ad astra - d̸͈̉ȯ̵͍n̴͙̄'̸̡̐ṱ̴̍ ̵̼̓ś̸̰p̴̰̆e̸̩̓å̵̖k̷͖͝ ̸͖̉ò̵̘f̶͇͝ ̵̫̕ẗ̷̳́ẖ̷̍e̷̪̋ ̴̛̣t̸̪̀h̵̩̊ị̸̕n̷͇̓ġ̵̰s̸͎̾ ̸̪͠t̶̫͘h̷̕ͅa̷͈͠ţ̵̇ ̷̣̄a̴̤͛r̸͈̿ḙ̸̾ ̸͎̚b̸̻̕e̵̺̎y̴̰͋ó̸̧n̶̙͐d̵̼͌ ̸̡͂y̶̲͝o̶͍͗ȕ̴̦r̷͚̃ ̷̯͒u̵̘͊ṋ̶̚d̵̡͑e̷̠͑r̷̡̚s̷̮̋t̴̙͊a̵͙͐ñ̵̗d̴͔͗ï̵̗ń̶̰g̶̤̈

Below is a snippet from A Part to Play:

===

Not all nights were super late, though. He was fortunate to have a relatively easy day and once he got back to the room, he shed off his dirty work clothes — covered in dust and wood shavings — and took a long hot shower. Once Noct was out and in more comfortable clothing, he was in the process of figuring out his dinner when there was a knock on the door.

When he got to the door and opened it, he had a short list of names to expect. It was most likely Aldis or Julian, and one of them needed an extra hand on a task that ran late. Of all of the possibilities of who could be there, however, his former Shield standing in front of him never had a chance to come up on the list.

With a hiss, Noct grabbed him by the arm and dragged him into the room before shutting the door, "What the hell are you doing? You know that two of my long-time coworkers are also staying here, right?"

If Gladio didn't want to be dragged in, he wouldn't have. He still towered over Noct. Except he just laughed and went along with it. "I was passing through Old Lestallum and couldn't resist."

Noct still sounded testy, in spite of being glad to see his old friend. "Well, don't let Iggy hear about it."

"He's the one who told me you're here." Gladio walked across the room and looked at the pile of messy work clothes on one of the beds. The other was occupied by the familiar black dog, who currently snored away. Gladio finally dropped the plastic bag he had been carrying on the small table near the window and took a seat. "Not a bad place."

"It's not home." Noct said as he crossed the room and started to poke through the bag. It's dinner, but instead of commenting on the food, he mused out loud, "I'm surprised, though. Ignis is usually super critical when I'm too lax about hiding my identity."

"You could make it easier and introduce me to them as your cousin Gladio Gar."

"No." Noct stopped, then looked up. He sounded a lot sharper than he initially intended, but continued with it, "Don't. That's my thing."

Gladio leaned back with a smug grin. The chair groaned in protest at the large man's weight from the action. "Yeah, I know." He paused for a second, just for the timing of it. "It shouldn't be."

"I have a good cover here." Noct mumbled as he dropped into his own chair and opened the box to look through the food. It was a burger — he was surprised it wasn't Cup Noodles.

"It's about as great as a baseball cap."

"It works!" Noct grabbed a fry out of the box and threw it at Gladio. He laughed as it only bounced harmlessly off his head.

"Iggy told me that you're working on the Balouve Piano?" Gladio continued without missing a beat. "As in the Balouve Piano? The same one that you—"

It was important to try and look like he was more interested in making sure that the burger was fine. Sure, he grew and ate his own vegetables at his home, but he had a reputation to uphold. "Yes, that I was paraded in to play a song on for her fifteenth birthday, that piano." Both the lettuce and tomatoes were removed and slipped onto the wrapper.

[ivoryminitower]

Echoes of Home: 51 - Steve ("Sam")

Echoes of Home: FFXIV AU OC – WoLs on Earth

Coming from over a year in a world where sleep is sort of recreational to the world I know where circadian kicks in makes it a bit rough to shift sleep schedule on the fly.  It took a while to get to sleep in the afternoon.  Never been the sheep-counting type.  I tried cataloguing things in my head...pets, mounts, NPCs...finally dropped off in the midst of my Triple Triad cards.

Tsu'na worked the register that night, sans hat and coat.  People looked at her, sure, but not wolf-pack staring like the other time.  Maybe it was the Hartmans, maybe Sam, maybe me...or maybe she's just that personable.  She never needed to smile fulltime like she was that night, and she was doing it well.  My magnificent miqo'te was magnificent.

I hated to abandon her to the wolves, but she seemed to be doing okay, so around 11:00 I headed out to see Sam.  Even if he didn't see me.

He had the back door of the Pit open when I got there, which made it easier to get in.  Ninja Stealth gets a little iffy when it comes to doors, and we haven't had enough occasion to practice here to see if it works like Douglas Adams' SEP field.  Gatherer Sneak seems to, but we don't usually have doors in the woods.

His truck was parked near the door.  It seemed he was restocking.  I got a glimpse of an invoice on the bar detailing purchases for one S. Daniels, The Pit (so not just a nickname), Wyatt OK.  My first intel gathered.  I was so proud.

I watched him move kegs from his pickup into his back room, watched him make a last circuit of the bar before killing the lights, and finally watched from the back of the truck as he locked up the bar, got in the front of the truck and drove us off.

Sam Daniels does not appear to have a brother named Jack, or a son named Jack, or a dog named Jack.  I don't know if that was a missed opportunity or responsible parenting.  He does have a wife, or at least a cohabiting female, who was asleep in the bed when we arrived.  He also has a goldfish (who may or may not be named Jack), which was convenient for me, because after he went to bed I could read by the aquarium light.

He didn't go to bed right away.  He got himself some water from a filter pitcher (interesting choice for a bartender) and settled down on the couch to watch CNN (interesting choice for small town USA).  He may not be a scholar, but he's not an idiot.

The old, yellowed PC in the spare bedroom looked like something bought because Everybody Has One rather than something used for fun.  The parts of the room that weren't the desk and chair were heaps of boxes and piles of stuff.  I didn't have a lot of light to see by, but it looked less like hoarder chaos and more like abandoned projects...folded fabric, folio books and the like.  As if this was the room where dreams went to die.

Sam finished his water and his news intake and went to bed, leaving the fish and me to socialize.  I waited for a while until his breathing was audible and rhythmic before moving things to the fish tank to read.

Not that there was much to read.  No convenient stack of mail by the door.  An electric bill on one end of the kitchen counter, addressed to Samuel Daniels.  No junk mail I could find sent to Resident or Occupant, though there was a flyer from Community Baptist Church for "Our Neighbors".

No bank statement.  No purse.  Nothing lying around that would tell me the name of the woman.  Maybe in the bedroom, but I admit to a squeam about going in there with them, especially if the light was poor.  Which was annoying, because I felt an itch to know coming on.  I made a mental note to add night-vision goggles to my wishlist.

There was a small stack of magazines on the floor at one end of the couch...People, Cosmo, Vanity Fair.  None of them had mailing labels (stupid itch), which meant they were bought from somewhere.  I didn't remember seeing magazines at May's, but I hadn't been looking.

No books.  The Hartmans didn't have many, and the library was small, but I wasn't used to not seeing any.  Maybe again in the bedroom.

I looked around as much as the aquarium permitted.  It wasn't sparse, or spartan, or utilitarian; it was just really...tidy.  The furniture was old and the place felt lived-in, but there wasn't a lot of life filling the space.  Which just made me itch more about the wife...sure, maybe all of Sam's life was at the bar, but what about hers?

Spying and burglary weren't really a thing in FF14, so I didn't have a lockpicking skill.  Elder Scrolls Online had a lot of it...I was breaking into places all the time in that game.  Might be nice if I could drop into an ESO world for training.  In the meantime, if I left I couldn't get back in until someone opened a door, which might be at least six hours later.

But there was absolutely nothing to do until someone got up.  I couldn't sleep there...I might get tripped over.  Or heard...Tsu'na's never said I snore; Sam should probably not be the person to tell me.

So I slipped out, leaving the door locked behind me.  Sam's porch light was on, showing me a mostly empty yard, but there were some trees at the edge of the light range.  I went out to the trees, then went out further until I couldn't see the porch light any more, then just a bit further. I got out the camping kit, set up the tent, and crawled in.

The sleep I got earlier helped, but the unexpected exercise degraded me.  The snooping plus the camp setup, plus waiting for Sam to turn in, had eaten a couple hours.  I didn't know how long Sam would sleep, but I needed to be up before him, so I linkpearled Tsu'na about the new schedule, set an alarm for five hours and conked out.

And woke, not to the alarm, but to metal banging.  "Hey!  You in the tent!  Get out here!"

I unzipped the tent and peered out.  There was Sam, a shotgun in his right hand and a tire iron in his left.  He blinked and stared at me.  "Steve?"

I blinked and stared back at him. "Sam?"

"The fuck're you doin' here?"

"...Trying to sleep?"

"Next to my house!?"

I looked blearily around.  Yes, I could in fact just barely see his wood-paneled house out there beyond the trees.  Which meant he could see my orange nylon tent from his front porch.

The Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal is known to be so stupid that it thinks that, if you can't see it, it can't see you.

"That's your house?  I didn't know."

"Then what are you doing here?"

A random neuron fired.  "Looking for sumac."

"...Sumac."

"Yeah, it's a bush, grows around six feet…"

"I know what sumac is!"

"Okay, well, Tsu'na said she wanted some for an herbal thing, and the forest service maps said it grew around here."

"And you went looking for it, what, at night?"

"It...got me away from her.  She was being kinda bitchy.  I think it might be her time of the month."

(I couldn't tell if she was amused when I told her about this.  "I was a prop?"  "No, my love, I was making excuses.  You were an alibi.")

Sam sighed, and let his gaze wander around the trees.  'You wanted to hang out, whyn'cha just come to the bar?"

"I didn't know this was your place!  I saw the porch light, thought it'd be a good reference point in the morning."

"This is weird.  You know that, right?"

"Kinda weird, yeah."

He looked at me.  I looked at him.

I gestured to the gun.  "Shotgun?"

"Problems with squatters."

"Gotcha.  Look, lemme pack up the tent and I'll be on my way…"

"You want breakfast?"

"Oh, I couldn't impose…"

"Pack up the damn tent and come to the house."

"Yes, sir."

The tent came with a shoulder tote, which I stuffed it into, because of course I didn't have an extradimensional pocket for it or anything.  I lugged it up to the house, knocked on the door and was greeted once again by Sam.  I stepped inside to find the woman awake, sitting on the couch, and absorbed in the TV.

"This is my wife, Dolores.  Dee, this is Steve from the bar.  He's who was in the tent."

Dolores blinked and looked up at me. "Why's he camping next to us?"

"He was out at night, got lost and parked at the first house he saw."

She kept staring at me.  I was reminded of Snuggles and Cat TV.  "You could get yerself shot doing that."

"Thanks���I'll keep that in mind."

She studied me a moment longer, looked at Sam, and turned back to the TV.  I was clearly Sam's to deal with.  And my novelty just didn't compete with Oprah.

I followed Sam to the kitchen. "Seriously, you don't have to…"

"Dee woke me, I woke you.  We're both up, so we might as well both eat.  How do you want your eggs?"

"However you make 'em is fine."

He gave me a pointed look.

"...Over-medium?"

"Hm.  So however I make 'em?"

"Is fine."

Scrambled was fine, especially with toast.  He set the plates down and sat across from me.  "Find any sumac, then?"

"Honestly, I wasn't trying that hard."

"She like this often?"

"Depends on the circumstance."

"An' the time o' the month?"

"Well, yeah.  But I think she's been a bit edgy sometimes here.  New place, new people, new ear and tail issues…"

Sam nodded.  "Spoke with some o' the regulars 'bout that.  They kinda like her, ya know…cute lil' thing like her that can throw 'em around.  The ears an' tail just give her…whatcha call…"

"Mystique?"

"Was gonna say character, but sure.  They think of her as part o' the bar, part o' them…and they can get kinda territorial.  Sure, they fight sometimes, but no one comes in an' makes a mess o' their bar, ya know?"

I smiled. "So she's got herself a home."

"Oh, hell yeah.  Ain't it like that at the diner?  Joel said he an' Hazel been talkin' to people."

"Kind of a different crowd.  We mostly get teenagers in the evening.  But yeah, it's gotten better.  I think.  The pretzels and pies sell."

"So don't worry 'bout it too much.  You be nice to them, they'll be nice to you.  Just keep the weird down."

Talk drifted to the shed, and some things about running the bar.  Through it all, Dolores (itch scratched) kept her eyes on the TV.  I guess that's where her life is now.  Though I do wonder about the piles of stuff in the other room.

Sam offered to drive me back to town, as long as I didn't mind a stop at the Safeway out the highway.  I found dried sumac there, for appearances.  Sam recommended I add a bag of chocolates ("Trust me on this.").  We loaded his stuff into the truck and drove toward the diner.

I told Tsu'na the story of my adventure.  I think she was trying not to laugh at me.  "What is sumac?"

"This stuff."

"And what will we do with it?"

"Put it on pizza, maybe?"

"And the chocolate?"

"Sam said women like chocolate during their period."

"I must thank Sam for teaching my husband about women."

"You've never had a period."

"No, but I like chocolate.  If Sam has taught you to bring me chocolate, I must thank him."

So, an all-around educational night.  We were both a bit short on sleep, so we went to bed for a couple hours.

As we cuddled under the blanked, she nuzzled close and whispered "sumac" in my ear with a giggle.

I'll probably be hearing about that for a while.

[rontra]

i know yr abt the girlfailure teachers rn but do u perchance have any more thots on that rhea and edelgard comic from a bit ago where Edie said she needed a healer and woke up rhea??

are you ready for a long ass post? because this is a VERY! LONG! POST!

tl;dr yes i have a fair amount of thots, and theyre all serial-numbers-filed-off chop-and-screw-it final fantasy fourteen thots. i will recap that first, and then the AU itself (final warning for Long Post)

enjoy (or avert thine eyes. it's up to you)

oh, yeah! so that au (tagged "SETR" because they can't resist an unreadable acronym tag*) began with mostly just riffing on the Scholar job quests from final fantasy 14 before veering off in order to separate from "being in ff14" (<- i simply don't feel like keeping up with all that) (<- he's just now getting to stormblood). so it's pretty much a crossover where one half of the cross had its serial numbers filed off HAHA

so obviously people who are familiar with ff14 SCH lore have a head start on this one, but let's see…from the top, let's TL;DR the stuff from the game proper:

in ff14, Scholar is a type of healer you can play. lorewise, the original scholars belonged to an ancient civilization that fell centuries before the game begins, so their art is completely extinct and lost. but back in the day, their like, marine city-state nation was at Big Magic War with a couple others (bigger nations with stronger/more plentiful mages). their smaller nation's sorcerers, too precious and few in number to risk putting on the front lines, took up dual duty to serve as both healers and tacticians/commanders. to that end, they learned to form pacts with faeries; relying on these familiars to act as their co-healers, the casters were able to give more of their focus to Studying The Art Of War (and were given the new title of Scholar for their big brain tactical caster schemes)

however, this nation and their brilliant military tacticians were wiped out by calamities (the Big Mage War they were involved in ended in huge colossal devastating floods and stuff) and their arts lay forgotten……until centuries later as [PLAYER CHARACTER] gets involved…. because of course you do <3 that's not really important though

what IS important is that at the tail end of this civilization's existence, they also had to juggle a Fucked Up Arcane Plague that one of their enemies strategically infected them with. the plague ("green death", or simply the "sickness from the sea") transformed the people into monsters and more or less demolished the standing army. the mutant plague was contained by quarantining the infected behind magical wards, but attempts to find an actual cure were unsuccessful. tormented by their prolonged isolation and the outside world's rejection of them, the plague's victims gradually became consumed with resentment, eventually depriving them of all reason. after the calamitous floods, the sealed temple--protected by its warding spells--has remained intact, but lays submerged. its transformed population has been trapped inside, alive, for centuries. yikes!

(gameplay wise, what this means is basically you have a fairy pet from the bygone era who automatically casts a basic healing spell called Embrace whenever you or anyone in your party is missing HP (<- in easy content she can sometimes do your job by herself which is very funny) and also, there's a dungeon full of monsters you feel kinda bad about killing)

the main important materials here for us are the "ancient civilization" aspect, the familiar/caster bond, and the simultaneous war/plague problem . <- list of ingredients to add some 3H sauce on

(

*here's the connecting tissue that got us from A (ffxiv) to B (fe3h)

my funny NPC retainer in the game is an au'ra woman named au'rhea (here is a pic of her). she does my banking and sells wares for me. beautiful dragon woman

while dicking around with glamourer i accidentally disguised my character as au'rhea. it was rly funny to see her running around doing stuff for once (because retainer NPCs normally Just Stand There)

i (scholar main) started glamouring my fairy to look like au'rhea so i could drag her with me on adventures (she does not get paid for this extra work)

scholar fairies can't be glamoured in this way so i had to use the ingame petglamour function to change mine into a carbuncle first. i chose topaz carbuncle because yellow is cool

somehow in the intersection between everything that's going on with my game at this point, the log window begins referring to this entity as "Topaz Au'rhea"

the groupchat starts making jokes about topaz au'rhea and scholar edelgard (apropos basically nothing). because it would be funny for rhea to run around getting super busy and stressed about keeping edie's health up while edie is aggroing every enemy on the map or whatever. you get it

Scholar Edelgard + Topaz Rhea. "SETR". incomprehensible? absolutely

)

----

so with all of that context out of the way,

this story is not set in the normal fodlan setting, so it's unclear what everyone's up to / what the current societal climate (and international relationships) of each country is (<- this would probably be ironed out if the AU was more fleshed out than it is)

adrestia and hresvelg's shared history is also a bit different, namely due to incredibly heavy losses suffered during the war of heroes. after barely surviving the war with a devastating pyrrhic victory, the newborn adrestian empire was probably uh not powerful enough to rise up and control all of fódlan lmao

without the support of either seiros OR any big Ws to pick them back up, they're probably still a smaller country (and . maybe not really an "empire" since…idk if they have the means to take and control several territories unless they 1) made a Huge Recovery since then and 2) nobody else on the continent minded that sudden expansion enough to corral them back into their pen HSBHFDF)

^im spitballing here, obviously this would also get ironed out more thoughtfully if i did more work. but that's kind of the vibe it has atm. like idk how big they would be without any strong Ws, without seiros, and without the church

it would also be an AU where there is no empire-church war to fuss around with (due to the absence of. well. the church of seiros--at least in its canon form) and rhea is not a figure in anyone's lives at all, so edie's list of priorities is much different

however because she is still an edelgard and it's important to her swag, her predicted life span is incredibly short due to an Evil Blood Curse(TM) woven in her childhood by the ancient enemies of her family (the nefarious slitherers…)

her condition is unheard of and utterly arcane to adrestia's mages and healers, and attempts to reverse its effects have been futile

after finishing up whatever other shit she had going on in this AU (<-???) (again, would be fleshed out if i had more than 1 post in the SETR tag lol), with no big wars or anything on her docket, she's already free to pursue leads on how to remedy her situation and possibly brighten her prognosis

in a handful of surviving archives private to the hresvelg family, wilhelm I wrote about the old pre-"adrestia" hresvelg territory, the war of heroes, and the allies that shored up the first army's faltering strength

he also made notes about their enemy's tactics, which included sending Curséd Plagues Most Foul, a tactic that all but demolished the pre-adrestian forces

it's not much but it's the best lead anyone's got at this point

wilhelm occasionally referenced his contemporaries' progress in combating these arcane plagues

this and the war combined take up more than 100% of their resources. they are working at a noticeable deficit, war is going rapidly downhill, and wilhelm's notes become more fragmented as the situation becomes increasingly unsustainable and dire

around this time, he also writes about mages forming pacts with "[word untranslatable to modern fódlan languages]" (but edie uses context clues to figure out it's some kind of magic familiar or something) to aid them, primarily in healing

while much of his text is either obliquely phrased or just straight up faded by time, he does pass down a swaggy amulet to his descendants, which is now in edie's possession (the "crest of seiros", if you can believe it)

edie starts investigating, referencing the texts for Important Places To Search For More Clues. starting with a place wilhelm wrote about very often: the last standing stronghold of the first hresvelg army and their allies

the red canyon.

the ruins there are thousands of years old and entirely forgotten by time. but one stubborn emperor (or whatever her title would be) is determined to search every inch of Old Fódlan for Curse Clues

deep in the lost ruins of zanado is a warded sanctum, still protected by an ancient spell. according to wilhelm the first, this was the very last and most hidden warded zone in the red canyon, erected in absolute secrecy just before their forces left the canyon for the final battle at the tailtean plains

the warded zone was left behind to protect the victims of the plague and keep the curse quarantined while the few remaining mages continued working on a remedy

despite the ward still being active, it has grown quite weak and allows edelgard to pass through (likely due to her blood connection to big wilhelm)

exploring deep into the warded zone, she finds it pristinely safe but utterly untouched for god knows how long. eerily quiet, preserved in time but abandoned by it…

at the heart of the warding spell is its caster, who edelgard initially mistakes for a human mage but quickly realized is the "familiar" wilhelm wrote about. she is Not in fact a funny heehoo imp of some kind, but in fact, a tall as fuck , Whole Ass Woman

(the untranslatable word in wilhelm's writing on the topic was obviously nabatean, a proper noun, the long-forgotten name of a people who once lived alongside humanity but were wiped out)

(the nabateans, few in number but possessing astonishing magicks, invited the battered army to take shelter in what remained of the nabateans' home in zanado. wanting to help beat the agarthans back, they offered to join their own power with humans in "pacts"--special contracts between a human mage and a nabatean caster that was beneficial for both partners and allowed them to work in great synergy)

(the pact magic, innovated by the nabateans, greatly enhances the human mage's capabilities, and imparts a certain degree of mutual mind-to-mind awareness of their partner, which the two can use to strategically coordinate their movements. although very few were left alive at this stage of the war, the nabateans were extremely powerful and could flex into any role on the battlefield--but they were also greatly prized in the sick bays and quarantine zones for their potent healing magic)

(the tactical advantage of pairing a war mage and a nabatean caster is credited by wilhelm as the key to many victories that would otherwise have been crushing defeats. also, the remaining nabateans had a vested interest in allying up to beat the agarthans down, as this was their ancient enemy who recently laid waste to the red canyon and decimated most of their population--and was about to conquer humanity as dessert)

wilhelm, the leader of the hresvelg army, formed a pact with the leader of the nabateans . the two of them combined were a force to be reckoned with (excelling in both tactics and raw force, but also defensive maneuvers), but due to how thinly stretched their manpower and resources were, the two commanders were forced to part ways at the very end. one commander was to depart with their army and finish the war, and the other was entrusted with staying back to defend zanado and keep their most vulnerable people safe

for thousands of years, rhea has been casting the same spell, maintaining the final barrier around the sanctum. the plan was for wilhelm and his (hopefully victorious) army to return here, but that uh, did not happen, due to him and his forces being annihilated in the massive effort it took to bring the war to an end

and it did end. only barely. wilhelm's descendants and whoever was left of their supporters founded adrestia proper and continued the hresvelg line into the future, but big wilhelm was absolutely dead and never came back and neither did anyone else sorry

anyway.

edelgard knows that this woman is one of the healers who were working directly on the Curse Problems back in ancient times, and is hoping she will know a solution to the "wretched curse is killing me" problem

the crest of seiros edie carries breaks the centuries-long casting trance and wakes rhea up

the first words out of her mouth are, in essence, WILHELM THANK FUCK YOU'RE BACK, DID WE DO IT? DID WE WIN?

(edelgard voice) erm about that

she basically has to explain to rhea that the last thing she remembers before beginning her Long Watch was, in fact, thousands of years ago, and that wilhelm and everybody else she knew is dead (on top of all the nabateans and allies rhea already knew were dead ofc). the world did manage to survive the war thanks to their efforts, but that's like, the one positive note in all this, lol

rhea understandably distraught and more than a little bit overwhelmed

also quite at a loss for what to do, being a magic guy from an era that in its entirety doesn't exist anymore (and hasn't existed for a very long time)

for all she or edie knows, she might be the very last of her kind (since all records are lost, wilhelm's notes obviously stop kind of abruptly, and no one's heard anything in the millennia since then)

obviously the amount of time that has passed means the people she was holding the ward for are also long gone. she's pretty devastated about that too as they're going through the sanctum and quarantined zone

edelgard trying to tactfully rummage around for clues for her own problem while the big lady spirals

i straight up feel like one of those plants that evolved for a type of bee that doesn't exist anymore

however rhea sadly must return the favor when edelgard is like. so you guys had this curse problem. and you were a very prominent commander/healer at the time. it so happens that i have curse problem. what is the solution to curse problem. i need it badly

and rhea is forced to be like . well we very much did not solve curse problem in my time. sorry. i don't know it. i don't have the solution. we didn't find it in time before our whole shit collapsed

so it's really bad news all around

but because edelgard is wilhelm's blood descendant and has used the crest of seiros (which marks the pact between wilhelm('s blood) and the nabatean rhea), they are pact-partners now, Just Like Old Fódlan Used To Make

rhea can't crack Terminal Blood Curse right now, but she does have a lot of knowledge about it and its course/symptoms (and she can confirm edelgard's problem as being The Very Same Indeed)

she feels pretty strongly about finishing her work, and is suddenly edelgard's funny pact partner, and third of all has Nowhere Else To Go And Everything She Knew Is Gone--so she says she'll help lmao

edelgard is more or less used to not finding concrete answers to her curse problem at this point given the difficulty level of this investigation. so she p much just moves on to the next lead on her checklist. gotta keep it moving if she's gonna crack this thing in time

road trip!

rhea basically provides her with palliative care while they look for ways to break the curse. she does feel noticeably better with a more specialized healer (<- kind of an understatement) and it is buying her more time to work with which is good

strangers separated by millennia of history but slowly bonding!

maybe on the way they'll also root out the bitches who put the curse on her to begin with

if you are out there slithering in the dark. you better not be

finally,

edelgard is a big axe guy. she does not do healing magic. she is basically face-tanking everything and rhea is so busy casting heals and shields she barely has time to do any DPS of her own

im sure they run into other characters n stuff on their funny road trip too but that all is the basic concept

(rhea voice) i'll Embrace but christ alive

[alicesadventuresinffxiv]

In another time, another place

There’s just something about characters speculating how their lives could have gone differently that is pure catnip to me! Especially characters where, but for a few key choices, they might have wound up as a hero rather than a villain, or vice versa.

Now combine that with having an NPC cosplay alt, meaning that I spend a not-insignificant portion of my FFXIV playtime wondering what that character would think about lots of random stuff.

End result: an entire menagerie of Fordola-centric plot bunnies! This post will be an attempt to corral said bunnies into a form that’s at least somewhat organized. It will also grow over time as I add writeups for new AUs if and when they become relevant to what I’m posting on this sideblog!

.

To Catch a Falling Star: Instead of leaving for Doma, Lyse spends Stormblood infiltrating the Skulls, with the ultimate goal of convincing Fordola to defect to the Resistance. When your army gets decimated, just steal the other guy’s one, you know?

Eventual Fordola/Lyse, with a complicated enemies-to-lovers arc.

Note that I'm writing scenes from this as they fit the FFxivWrite prompts, not in chronological order. So here's a second list, with the entries listed in the order they occur in the timeline (though there are still large gaps and lots of missing scenes I haven't done yet!)

Take our quarry alive!

Plans Hatched Behind Bars

Narrow Horizons

For a Morsel of Acceptance

Who wants to steer the Reaper?

Those Fleeting Halcyon Moments

A Telling Emotion

Deleterious Relations

Sally forth, to endings unwritten

Aftermath of a Duel

.

WoL!Fordola AU: Not WoLFordola like the ship, WoL!Fordola as in the original Warrior of Light, the Meteor Survivor who fought at Carteneau, who destroyed the Ultima Weapon, who ended the Dragonsong War… he died to Zenos at the end of Stormblood. Oops!

Now Fordola is the only one left who has the fighting skill needed to even have a chance of filling his shoes.

This is the timeline I’m basically writing as I take my alt through the MSQ. It starts out as a continuation of TCaFS (so technically TCaFS is one of my WoL’s backstories in a roundabout way haha). But it gets even weirder. Fordola might be the new WoL, for example, but it’s Krile who is the shard of Azem!

Fics in this AU:

A Nostalgic Adventure (end of Eureka)

Falling through memory, hand in hand (during 5.2)

Third-Rate Azem (after 5.3)

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WoL was out fishing, Fordola did the sidequests instead: Not an AU so much as a common premise I use. Fics in this series assume that everything is the same as in canon, including there being some non-specific WoL (maybe even your WoL!) who exists and follows the normal MSQ. However, while they’re busy offscreen somewhere, Fordola is forced to pick up the slack for them and do sidequests where she doesn't usually appear.

My first FFXIV fic (Sympathetic Resonance aka "why is Fordola in Eureka?") would be part of this series, as would my WIP Sorrows of Werlyt fic.

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8th Umbral Calamity: Shadowbringers never specifies whether Lyse and Fordola are killed by Black Rose in the bad timeline. What if they weren’t? Lots of fun (and by fun I mean tragic) ways that could play out!

Originally, this was going to be a kind of Apocalypse/Road Trip AU, with Lyse and Fordola traveling through a Black Rose-devastated Ala Mhigo and trying not to to kill each other before they reached Cid and the Ironworks.

Then I was writing an FFxivWrite entry and realized it would be interesting to combine it with another AU I had, where Fordola gets executed by the Resistance and winds up accidentally bodysharing with Lyse…