#wol has two hands

[sakuuyaan]

Wolchefant Week 2023 - Day 2: AU

Maybe If...

[sofusenpai]

fjorn as a woodwarder! teaching his little apprentice

[ewerinreverse]

the warrior of light's midsummer dream

[brosnyaa]

Yoo I wanna see more of Orpheus smooching Hildibrand

this is for you, nonnie

[warriorofyapping]

thinking about grahawolcred no one look at me

[almondes]

Made it to Camp Dragonhead for Freddie!

He's gonna make so many memories... 🙃🙃🙃

Extra screenshots:

[authorhjk1]

Surviving NNN

Part Three: A star

You sit on the balcony of your apartment, letting the cold breeze brush your face. The cold shower you just took helped. Or at least it eased the pain. Yena's gorgeous body still wanders through your mind. The way the towel slowly slid up, revealing her legs. How it created a small cleavage over her small breasts.

You are saved by the sound of the door being opened. Hearing small footsteps, you do your best to concentrate on the task at hand.

"Oppa?"

You recognize Chaewon's voice.

"Yeah."

"Minju made breakfast. You coming?"

"Of course. Give me a second."

You feel a little guilty letting your guests cook, but the three girls can cook way better than you. Apart from some basic dishes you can't do very much.

"What are you doing?"

Chaewon steps closer, now standing right behind you, while looking over your shoulder as you sit in one of the comfortable chairs.

"I'm working on some lyrics." "Really?"

You hear the excitement in Chaewons's voice.

"I'm a huge star, you know?"

She grabs another chair and sits down next to you, looking at the ipad in your lap.

She referred to herself as a star, which is the name for your fandom. Your stage name is Jin-wol. It translates to moon or jewel in English. That's why the fandom name stars somewhat fit.

You are happy to hear that Chaewon is a star, she is a well known idol after all.

"Really?"

The young woman nods in excitement.

"I watched your recent MV like a million times."

You chuckle as Chaewon tries to glance at your ipad. Unfortunately, there is nothing much to look at so far.

"What's the new song about?"

"Read for yourself."

You offer her the ipad and Chaewon starts to read. It isn't much yet, but you can see her blushing harder and harder with every word.

"Th-This is gonna be your song?"

"Yeah. I can write and produce my own music, but usually the company decides on what theme we do for every album.

"Ah, I see."

Chaewon's cheeks are still a little red as she gives you the ipad back. It is hard work to write this stuff right now, beacuse of NNN. It's supposed to be a sexy concept. A combination of obvious hints about sex and some a little less obvious. It wouldn't have been a problem without NNN at all. You could just take more than enough "inspiration" from Karina. And even if someone would catch up on that, it's no big deal, since the two of you are together anyway.

You eat breqakfast in silence, while you listen to three girls chatting. With your mind still on the song and your mind capable of more than just vivid imagination, you keep your head down.

"Oppa."

You slowly raise your head, barely able to look at Minju. The things that went through your brain during your run make you feel bad. How could you think about her like that?

"Since its Saturday, the three of us wanted to go shopping. You wanna come with?"

You rather not. You need to keep writing. And you need some space to breath. Having these three girls constantly around you makes you anxious.

"I actually still have some work to do."

"Oh come on."

Yena looks at you.

"We will reward you afterwards."

She gives you a wink and your mind starts spinning again. What kind of reward?

"What kind of reward?"

Yena chuckles. Your voice may have sounded a little too desperate.

"I'm tot gonna tell you. But it has something to do with cream."

She smirks at you.

New pictures flood your mind.

Yena on her knees, holding a can of wipped cream. She pours some of it into her mouth, before looking up at you. Her hands work to take of your pants. You groan as you feel her warm lips part around your cock. The cold wipped cream is a great contrast to them. It slowly starts to melt in Yena's mouth. She pushes it around with her tongue, while looking up at you.

"Oppa?"

You slightly shake your head, trying to get rid of these thoughts.

"No."

"Why not?"

Yena pouts. You can't stop looking at her lips. Just a moment ago they were wrapped around your cock....

"Please, Jin-wol oppa."

Minju pouts as well.

"Karina unnie told us to take you. She said you hate shopping."

That's somewhat true. You never liked it. Which means Karina usually does it for you. She knows evry size, from shoes to shirt. She also has a better sense of style than you.

The person who breaks your last resistance is Chaewon.

"Like you wrote in your lyrics: 'I see donuts left and right, but I just want to glaze yours all night' you know?"

No. No way in hell she doesn't know what you meant by that. She must. Chaewon must know exactly what you meant. The other lines are even more explicit. She must have picked up on this.

And yet, she looks at you with an innocent face.

"We could get you some donuts."

Yena chips in.

"I like my donut glazed as well."

You almost have to take another shower as you hear her say that. You stuff your mouth with food, trying to avoid the pictures coming back.

"Chaewon? Are you coming?"

Yena shouts through the apartment, while the three of you wait for Chaewon. She is the last on to get dressed.

"Oppa, why don't you go and get her?"

"Me?"

"Yeah. She is a big fan of yours. I'm sure she will hurry up when she sees you.

"Fine."

You walk towards Yena's and Chaewon's shared room.

"Chaewon."

"Come in."

You hesitate for obvious reasons, but you eventually open the door. Bad decision. Not just because of the way Chaewon is dressed, but because the two of you are alone.

"What do you think?"

You think a lot. Way too much actually. The number of days you survived without cuming is increasing steadily. And Chaewons outfit makes you dizzy.

You just want to take her right there.

Push her against the wall, throwing that large bag aside. Open the zipper of her jeans, while she does the same with yours. Your lips dance along her skin on her shoulders, enjoying the smoothness. Without much forplay, you would just enter Chaewon. Her eyes shut tight as her petite body tries to accustom itself to your cock. A moan escapes her mouth while you push inside. Your hands resting on her tight midriff. Your thumb playfully grazes over her mole as you make Chaewon sigh with pleasure.

You start to fuck her hard into the wall. More and more. Faster and faster. Your body releasing all the build up tension.

"Oh god! Your cock!"

Chaewon moans loudly as you pound her hard. Your dick is deep inside her pussy. Your girlfriend's friend's pussy. Your fellow idol's pussy. Your fan's pussy.

Chaewon is all of that. And more. Your lips find hers, trying to muffle her moans as you take her body. The young woman gives herself to you, relishing in the pleasure you give her.

"Harder, please! Fuck me good!"

Her high pitched yelps make you pound her harder. You feel Chaewon's walls contract around you. Her body shakes even more.

"Oh my god! I'm gonna cum on your cock!"

And so she does. Chaewon orgasms in your arms as you keep fucking her. You chase your own orgasm which is building up as well. After almost three weeks of no cuming, you feel your cock almost bursting as you are about to climax.

"Give it to me. Give me your cum."

Chaewon asks for it. She looks into your eyes, her head slightly swaying back and forth as you pound her against the wall. You are surprised when she manages to undo the button of her jeans in a frenzy. She pulls down her jeans just enough for you to get a good look at her pussy.

The sight makes you orgasm right there. You manage to pull out. You start cuming all over her. Your cum lands mostly on her freshly fucked pussy. Some of it on her midriff. The two of you breath heavily after your short fuck.

Looking down, you realize that you mad your lyrics come true. You did glaze Chaewon's donut.

________

Hi everyone!

I hope you enjoyed this. The lyrics might come of as a little cringe but I'm a writer not a composer , so please don't judge me to harshly.

Tomorrow will be the last day of round one for the Decmber speical, if i'm correct. You will be able to vote for the actual chapters as soon as this round ends

Have a great day!

[avocado-writing]

For nightingale, aziraphale, and Crowley, could you write something with them going on holiday or honeymoon to a museum or historical site, and remembering old times together? Maybe they discover one of them in the background of a historic photo or they’re mentioned in a piece of writing or turn up in a painting or a statue? I just need more of those 3 so whatever you feel like, dealers choice <3

aziraphale x reader x crowley (good omens)

third chapter of this. kissing you on the lips anon for requesting it.

rated M for light smut.

1.5k words.

if you like what I do, here’s my ko-fi!

Your marriage is a quiet little affair.

It has to be, really. Can’t have a big crowd wondering how three people are able to all wed each other. It’s hard enough miracling the registrar to not notice anything out of the ordinary, let alone worrying about having a bunch of guests second-guessing the technical legality of the thing. 

Luckily, it all goes reasonably smoothly. The registry office isn’t busy on a Thursday afternoon, it doesn’t take long to get in and out. Yes, all three of you sign these documents, that’s absolutely fine. Congratulations and I hope you have a happy future together.

Rings on fingers, plain gold wedding bands binding the three of you to each other. Chaste, meaningful kisses and wide smiles.

Being married to them doesn’t feel any different, but then again you suppose it wouldn’t. You’ve been together for longer than any human has ever been alive. You were all practically married anyway, getting the paperwork done was just… the cherry on top.

“Well, now what do we do?” you ask, stepping out onto the busy London street. Aziraphale and Crowley take a moment to consider this question, as if they hadn’t really thought about it either.

“Lunch?” the angel says, just as the demon replies “bed?”

You laugh, and the three of you end up doing one and then the other.

Crowley kisses you both hard the moment that the bookshop door shuts, pausing only to flip the sign firmly to ‘very closed’. You trap Aziraphale between your bodies, knowing how much he loves to be showered with attention, and strip off as you retreat through the nonfiction section to the well-loved sofa in the break room.

It feels like there isn’t time to go upstairs. It’s time to consummate this marriage here, now. 

“Come on, angel,” you hum as Crowley sheathes himself inside him, making Aziraphale’s eyes roll in pleasure, “like Geoff wrote, ‘In wyfhode I wol use myn instrument as frely as my Makere hath it sent’.”

Despite the overstimulation as you sink down on him, Aziraphale laughs. Crowley cocks an eyebrow.

“What on earth are you going on about?”

“Inside joke, I suppose,” you reply wickedly, before silencing any further questioning with a kiss across Aziraphale’s shoulder.

When you’re done breaking in the marriage bed - after you finish breaking in the marriage couch and then the marriage kitchen counter - the three of you lie together, limbs tangled, the two of them feeling you breathe. 

“You know what we should do?” you eventually pipe up, lost between twisting your fingers in Aziraphale’s curls and running your hand up the length of Crowley’s thigh.

“Look, I’m happy to go again, just give me ten minutes,” Crowley murmurs. You almost get caught up in it as the angel plants a kiss on your bare shoulder, but snap yourself back to reality before they can delay your train of thought further.

“No! - I mean, yes, but also, we should go on a honeymoon.”

“Oh!” Aziraphale says, lighting up, “That’s a wonderful idea. I can’t remember the last time the three of us took a holiday together. One where we didn’t have to also do some work, anyway.”

“It was Stockholm, nineteen-seventy-five,” Crowley states without missing a beat. The two of you both look at him, and it clicks.

“Oh god, it was, wasn’t it?” you laugh. Of course. Was it that long ago?

“The Eurovision final! Goodness, how on earth did we forget?”

“Repressing painful memories?” the demon suggests. It was one of those trips he’d clearly not been very pleased about, but insisted his chaperoning was better than the alternative of letting you and Aziraphale run wild around Sweden.

“I can’t believe you had a perm for that whole decade,” you say to Crowley, who just groans and slings his arm over his face to hide.

“I thought it was very fetching,” Aziraphale reassures, squeezing his husband’s - husband’s! - hand. 

“Well, why don’t we go somewhere a bit closer to home?” you suggest. “Somewhere like, I don’t know, Edinburgh?”

“I like Edinburgh. Well, apart from one statue, but we don’t have to go and see it I suppose,” Aziraphale agrees. The two of you look over to Crowley. He lifts his arm just enough for you to see the sparkle in his yellow eyes.

You set off a couple of days later in the Bentley, boot packed up tight with suitcases (none Crowley’s, one belonging to you, the rest Aziraphale’s; he insisted he needed to bring at least twenty books ‘just in case’). With Crowley’s driving the eight hour journey takes about five, and soon you’re at your little bnb planning how you’re going to spend the week.

And it’s lovely. You do all the touristy things, the guided tours, the hidden gems, and slowly making your way around what feels like every pub in the city. You and Aziraphale eat a quite astonishing number of lunchtime finger sandwiches, and Crowley takes you out dancing to a little hole-in-the-wall joint he had a hand in founding a couple of decades ago. Your heart is full and you realise over and over again just how lucky you are to be able to spend your life with the two people you love most in this universe.

On the last day, you finally do the big one: Edinburgh Castle. You’ve been in there but only once, and that was a couple of hundred years ago. It’s changed but not as much as you thought: it’s nice to see the conservation work people are doing in old places like these. Saving little pieces of the past.

You’re walking through one of the little side corridors - a place you’re probably not meant to actually be on the tour, but one of your husbands has a way of making locked doors open and the other is very good at getting people to forgive you if you’re found going through them.

Up ahead they’re bickering. About what you can’t say. You’ve learnt to tune it out unless it’s about something actually important. Despite that you almost miss it, walk right past the bloody thing - but then you catch the flash of paint out of the corner of your eye and do a double-take.

Your mouth drops open.

“Oh my god. You two, come here and take a look at this!”

Aziraphale and Crowley halt their quibbles and double back to stand at your side. They’re both as shocked as you are.

“Oh,” Aziraphale gasps.

“Huh,” Crowley mutters.

“It’s us,” you state.

It is. An oil painting, ancient. The only description is a tiny plaque which sits beneath it in tiny lettering: a portrait of a gentleman and two ladies, c 1665. No more information is given, which is clearly why it’s been delegated to a back room rather than hung in somewhere more important.

But there’s no mistaking it: Aziraphale in his white jerkin and doublet, Crowley in a black dress with his hair down, and you in the middle. Dressed in rich colours, heavy jewellery hanging off you. Your lovers hold either one of your hands in theirs, the three of you looking out serenely towards the viewer.

“We commissioned this for your birthday in sixteen-sixty-five. Do you remember, Nightingale?”

You nod. Yes, you remember the two of them trying to surreptitiously get you to pose while someone caught your likeness in a sketch to transfer later to canvas. Portrait sittings were an exhausting thing and there was no way they were going to trick you into believing anything else was going on.

“I thought it was destroyed,” you whisper, gobsmacked. The three of you had lived in a little London townhouse around the time, when your relationship was still young. And yes, a birthday present it was: right before the great fire of London had broken out. You’d had to evacuate the city as quickly as you could, no time to save anything as unwieldy as a painting.

But clearly it hadn’t burned. Someone had saved it - or nicked it, more likely, before the blaze got to it - and now it ended up here. In this corridor. Where the three of you had just happened to trespass to find it.

“Miraculous,” Aziraphale breathes, and you can only agree.

“Should we try to get it back?” Crowley asks. “I’m sure there’s someone I can blackmail in this castle.”

“No. No, let’s leave it. I quite like it here. A little piece of us somewhere, preserved in time, you know? It’s lovely. Besides,” you turn to your husbands, “I get to have the two of you every day now.”

The three of you take a moment to let the idea soak in; and then you kiss in the quiet of the castle corridor. Happy. Looking forward to the future you’re now allowed to live.

“Now,” you announce after a beat, “I think we’d better get some lunch and then I’m going to go and graffiti that statue of Gabriel. You’re welcome to join me.”

“Oh absolutely,” says Crowley just as Aziraphale tuts “certainly not!”

You talk him round though, and by that evening, he’s doodled a moustache on the smug archangel’s marble face with a sharpie.

[idcbabyialreadylostmymind]

hi! i was wondering if you could do something to do with tonowari, whether that’s smut or fluff i don’t mind but i seriously need sum for this fine ass man as i can never find anything 😕 if not than that’s fine, thank you!

All yours

Pairing- Tonowari x reader

Summary- Tonowari doesn't like when someone stares at you, your he's and you know that but, he makes sure they know that.

Warnings- kissing, p in v, fingering, rough sex, playing with boobs, lmk if I missed anything

Tìyawn- love

Your husband, the Olo'eyktan was a possessive man. He liked people to know what was his. And when people didn't respect that they had to face the wrath of the it. So when everyone knows this why do they still choose to flirt with you. He watched from the beach as a young warrior flirted with you, talking about all of the kills he has made, how he helped protect the clan from the sky people and more useless stuff that you really did not care about.

But you, you are sweet and gentle so instead of telling this man to scram, like your husband would. You let him talk and talk as you picked leaves and plant you needed for remedies since you are the Tsahik. "And I pulled my spear out of the huge wol-" he goes to tell you about how he made a 'mighty' kill interrupted by you wanting this conversation to end. " Yes that is fascinating but I must get back to my husband, the Olo'eyktan." You say emphasizing Olo'eyktan and just as you hoped the reminder of your husband made him rush off.

You pick the basket filled with plants up and walk over to your husband who had a scowl on his face. "What is wrong tìyawn?" You ask, he breaths in deeply averting his scowl over to the man whom was just flirting with you. Your frown was crinkled into a smile and shake your head.

He grabs the basket from your hand and wraps his arm around you protectively as you walk back to the to your Mauri because it was close to eclipse.

Entering the hut you closes it leaving just you two, looking around expecting your other two children to be there they were not. "Tono where are the children?" You asked concerned, feeling his large body come up behind you sneaking his hands around your waist, "They asked if they could spend the night with the Sully's and I said yes." He explained flipping you around chest to chest.

"And you did not ask me first." You say tilting your head. "Oh they will not be children forever you will not always know where they will be." He says. Nodding your head in agreement he is right.

His hand caresses your face dragging his thumb over your bottom lip before giving you a gentle kiss. He pulled away eyes flickering from your lips to your eyes. "I hated seeing that guy flirt with you." He confessed. Gentle smile forms on your face, "I know but I am all yours." You say, smirking he speaks. "Say it again."

"I am all yours." You say he picks you up and gentle throws you onto your shared cot. "Again." He more demands that asked. "I am all yours." You say before yelping at his hand swipes under your loincloth and his fingers suddenly knuckles deep inside you. His thumb manages your clit as he finger fucks you mercilessly. "Again." He says.

It was as if your voice was caught in your throat, taking a deep breath trying to ignore the tightening in your stomach as he curls his fingers hitting just the right spot. "I am yours, all yours." You sputter out. Pulling his fingers out he licks them clean. "Yes you are." He says pulling you up off of your back and closer to him as he grinds his hips into yours. "All mine." Was all he said before he ripped your loincloth off.

"That was my favorite cloth." You whine, he chuckles at your whining over a cloth. "I'll have another one made." He mutters out before ripping your top off as well leaving you bare, all for him. His lips attaches to your left nipple, sucking and tugging at it. As his unoccupied hand toys with the other one.

He pulls from your chest and hastily takes his cover off showing off his hard on. Angry tip leaking with pre-cum dripping down his shaft. He lifts you by your hips with one hand as he holds his dick with the other, gliding you down his cock all kinds of nosies came from you. As you finally grounded on his cock, his hands hold you firm by your hips.

"Say it again." He whispers in your ear. A little confused you wait a minute before it clicks. "I am yours, only yours." You reply to him. And it felt as if he got harder inside of you. He lifts you up once more and slams you back down on his cock doing this over and over again and not at a gentle pace at a hard and rough one that made him hit your sweet spot every time. And with every thrust he was making you moan louder and louder, almost into a scream from how girthy his cock was and how fast he was going. Your nails dig into his back dragging them down as he hits your g-spot once more this time harder than all the rest.

He groans at the pleasure of your walls tightening around him and at pain your nails cause digging at his back, sure to leave marks in to morning. He lies you down on your back letting him fuck you even harder than before. It was as if this let him fuck you deeper, if that was even possible. He grabbed your face lifting it up to meet his lustful and powerful gaze, "All mine," he said giving you one hard thrust before talking again, "Mine to fuck," thrust, "mine to ruin," thrust, "All mine" thrust.

You were fucked dumb nodding your head in agreement was all you could do as he continued to thrust in and out not giving you a chance to process anything but pleasure, anything but him. "All yours." Was all you could say as you felt him pulsating inside of you. "I'm gonna-" to tired and fucked to finish the sentence he saw it though as you came your face scrunched in pleasure, goosebumps crawling all over your body, toes curling, nails digging even harder into his back.

And that's all he needed was to see you fall apart on his cock, he gushed inside of you trying to keep his composure he pushed his hands to the wall in front of him breathing heavily you stayed like that for a while, engorged in each other the smell of sex lingering in the air. And he pulled out of you much to dismay but that left as he pulled you closer and held you rubbing your back whispering sweet nothings in your ear until you fell asleep.

[dangermousie]

A love letter to late 00s/early10s kdramas? More likely than you may think

I have watched the first two eps (30m each) of the just premiered My Military Valentine with Nam Guyri and Kim Min Seok and I have discovered the most glorious time machine to 2008-2012.

A disclaimer - if you came to kdramas relatively recently, this really isn't a drama for you. But for those of us who used to watch and adore kdramas of mid-to-late 00s/very early 10s (I got into kdramas around 06), this is a very deliberate and knowing tribute and is designed to evoke a sense of nostalgia for back then dramas which it does brilliantly.

I feel as if I somehow time traveled to 15 years back or perhaps stumbled on a kdrama from that period I have not seen yet. It is such a delicious homage.

The premise is pretty straightforward - in an AU where South Korea and North Korea are close to reunification, a popular South Korean superstar and a North Korean commando cross paths and then he ends up having to serve in her unit. She's a consummate military officer, he's boyish and even immature but genuinely good-hearted. If you are screaming into your hands "this is off-brand King2Hearts with Spy MyungWol thrown in OMGGGGGGGG!" then you are the target audience.

EVERYTHING about this drama is old-school, deliberately so. The plot (even the idea of reunion was much more popular in dramas back then than it is now when I think it's much more fraught and distant), the setting (it is not set in 2024 but something like 2010), the characters (the ML is the immature protag romcoms in 00s used to love, FL is a good-hearted stern naive NK lady), the look (the way it's filmed is 100% from back then, with news montages, ML's frosted hair, the side part of the NK agent dude, the shots down from buildings, FL's whole vibe and look, the camera work, the lack of certain filters. Even the fact that neither of protags looks super polished and ML has a certain soft-faced and not starving look is reminiscent of early 00s dramas.)

Shot from the drama:

For comparison, here is Eric Mun in 2011 Spy Myung Wol as a top star in a drama about a North Korean Agent x SK celeb:

And with NK agent OTP:

Here is the OTP of 2012 King 2 Hearts, about a South Korean prince and NK commando:

Lee Byung Hun and his bleach blond hair in Beautiful Days from 2003:

Kim Rae Won and his soft face and light hair in Say You Love Me (2004):

And now, look at this song number from My Military Valentine. If it doesn't scream "Obama just got elected for his first term," I don't know what to tell you:

And the kiss as means of air transfer, old school style JUST I CAN'TTTTT:

[verysmallcyborg]

Fornax Val'ethtue

B A S I C S

Name: Fornax Val'ethtue (or Fyrstyrn [fire star] Dotharl, when thinking of the two naming conventions)

Nicknames: They don't have much nicknames, however friends that know Fornax well enough can call them "Lily" (Delmira especially calls them that, this is because of their association with the flower), otherwise only Ryss gets to call her sea puppy or treasure

Age: 37 (by Endwalker)

Nameday: 5th Sun of the 1st Umbral Moon

Race: Sea Wolf Roegadyn + Xaela Au Ra (au roe, if you will. tehe)

Gender: Non-binary Butch (she/they)

Orientation: Lesbian

Profession: Outside of WoL responsibilities... bodyguard and marksman

P H Y S I C A L     A S P E C  T S

Hair: Black with a bunch of grey hairs. If it's short, it's spiky and either has the sides and the lower back of it shaved down, or they have their sideburns. If it's longer, then it's generally messy and uneven with a "wild" look.

Eyes: Black sclera, slit pupils, and vibrant orange. Fornax's eyes only glow because their dad taught them how to apply limbal rings when she was young, but never learned how to accurately do it (or when to stop doing it, until there was a full glow) after his death.

Skin: Dark grey, has a black gradient starting at their forearms and goes all the way to their hands. Has a fair amount of scales, though some are broken and ripped off around scars.

Tattoos/scars: Decorated in scars all over their face and body, but the most notable ones are on their face, neck, and torso. Some of her face scars are from saving a coeurl kit from hunters, and briefly got mauled by its mother when returning it (they understood the protective instinct, but OUCH). The scars across their neck and chest was an incident that put them at deaths door, and then a large scar on their side is from... WELL. Ryss. :) Don't worry about it :)

Very important: their top scars!! Those tits: chopped off. Also the end of their tail (that doesn't have the top layer of thick scales) has a bite scar from the Major-General, no one believes them when they say a tiny shark with tiny legs bit them while fishing.

Fornax has a very subtle trail of faint orange stars on their back for a tattoo!

F A M I L Y

Parents: Unnamed Roegadyn mother & Xaela father. Her mom was a traveling merchant of sorts, while her dad was part of the Dotharl clan. Unfortunately, both were murdered while Fornax was young... :')

Siblings: No siblings

Grandparents: N/A (I don't think that far with family LOL)

In-laws and Other: No idea about in-laws, but for other: their lovely spouse, Ryssrael!!! :)

Pets: Befriends every stray and animal that they cross, but specifically, they have a little black coeurl and a baby amaro that follow them around.

S K I L L S

Abilities: Very skilled with a rifle and axes of any kind (WAR/MCH combo), though they are in their best element when within melee range. Weaponizes their teeth, claws, and tail as often as they can, and wields terrifying, brutal strength that amplifies when angered or under a need to win and/or survive. Best not to piss off a butch who could pull an entire ship with just them and their partner!!

Hobbies: LOVES cooking and all kinds of hands-on crafts, but specifically knitting and crocheting.

T R A I T S

Most Positive Trait: Their unwavering determination

Most Negative Trait: Has a self-destructive habit of fleeing and attempting to isolate themselves when hurt

L I K E S

Colors: Most warm colors, baby blue, black, and purple

Smells: Burning firewood, ocean breezes on the sunrise/sunset, the stinging metallic scent of blood, flowers in a field, freshly cooked food (especially stews and bread)

Textures: The subtle raised skin of old scars, the wool off of freshly sheared karakuls, tree bark, warm hands against their scales, horns, and tail

Drinks: Apple cider, hot chocolate, fruity beverages

O T H E R    D E T A I L S

Smokes: Not really, unless offered

Drinks: Only in good company/socially

Drugs: Recreationally? Maybe, otherwise nah

Mount Issuance: Still has their red chocobo (HEH...) but he spends his days sleeping and chilling in the garden of their yard. Nowadays they use a comically tiny airship.

Been Arrested: Several times by the Maelstrom and Flames, mostly when they were a teenager & young adult because of petty thefts and getting in trouble for some of the jobs they took on to scrape by. Fornax has gotten significantly better at escaping and hiding though, which is kinda funny when you wonder, how does anyone lose a 8ft/244cm tall au roe with a big ole tail?

Tagged by @hazelkjt and @cindernet-explorer!!! thank you <3

UHHHHHH i've seen most folks i follow be tagged already, so i'm pointing at the viewer. Your Turn

[headcanons-n-shit]

Hello

Your newest post reminded me i had an idea. The bois comforting wol who is having a nervous brakedown from all the stress. Bonus Ardbert.

I really like your stories. Especially the angsty ones.

(TAZ The Breakdown plays in the background)

(Mild shadowbringers spoilers)

Thancred literally (accidentally but still) disassociated so hard from the stress that he gave up his body to the bad guy for a bit. If anyone gets what youre going through, its probably going to be him. Hes not going to waste his time on empty platitudes: hes going to get you a glass of water, a warm blanket, and a hot meal, and let you cry it out on his shoulder for as long as you need to.

(And if that still doesnt help, well. Sex is still on the table. Its rarely a good idea, but hes all out of those.)

Urianger is probably breaking down with you lets be real. Every future my mans has ever read has included world-ending catastrophe, and, sure, youve thwarted it every time (usually with his help) but. What if this time you dont? What if this time you fail???? Its an unreasonable amount of stress for one man to be carrying. He probably does a fantastic amount of fantasy weed to cope and still all it takes is seeing you break down for him to also start blubber-crying.

Graha seems kind of detached and distant at first. "Shower water food" he commands you, in the voice of Lynas grandfather the Crystal Exarch, firm and uncompromising and impossible to disobey, and you might miss the way his voice and smile are strained. The way his hands clench and unclench at his sides. Hes never regretted turning back time to help you save two worlds, but. Its times like this that he wonders if he shouldnt try again to give you a happier ending.

Estinien is a firm hand on your shoulder, a steady shoulder to lean on, because he gets it. The feeling of being trapped in your own body, puppetted by powers so much greater than you can imagine, almost greater than you can comprehend... Youre breaking down for the both of you, honestly, because hes spent so long training the iron discipline to resist nidhoggs influence that he doesnt know how to anymore. This is. Cathartic. For the both of you tbh.

Aymeric wishes in this moment, more than anything, that he could just. Just be with you. Out on your journeys, giving you support by your side instead of from a distance. And he knows, he knows, that the support he gives you is important, that his ability to move nations in your favor has helped far more than any single sword at your side ever would. But he bears the weight of a nation while you bear the weight of a star, and that just. Doesnt seem fair to him.

Haurchefant knows that theres some things that hot chocolate cant fix but. Its a good starting place if nothing else. Something warm and sweet right now couldnt hurt, neither would a soft blanket and a roaring fire. He'll sit with you, bundled up together, and just listen if thats what you need. Or he can talk-- he has plenty of embarrassing stories about Artoirel that he hasnt shared yet. Either way, he'll happily help you wipe your tears away when youre done, and then drop a delicate kiss on your forehead.

Stand tall, he says. A smile better suits a hero.

Sidurgu is surprisingly good at this. Or, maybe not so surprising? Rielle is very mature for her age, but shes still a child. He probably does this whole song and dance every other week. And you feel a little bit like a child, the way he bullies you into the shower and then bundles you up in blankets and pushes food at you, but. Beneath the gruff words and scowl you can tell hes worried. Frustrated. This is exactly the kind of injustice that as a dark knight he swore he would fight, but hes just one man, there isnt much he can do about the desolation of the star. But he also needs you to know that he'll always be in your corner. Whether in this little way or if you need him to help you kill a god, he'll always come when you call.

BONUS

Ardbert has never felt so helpless in his life. He cant touch you, cant be a shoulder you can cry on. He cant even fetch you a glass of water. All he can do is stand there and watch as you break apart in your bed in the Pendants, and its. Its torture, worse than anything any ascian could ever conceive.

Still. He does what he can. And if all he can do is sit at your bedside, his hand hovering half-through yours in a mockery of touch while he tells you stories of his adventures, or friendship and triumph and happier times, well. Its the least he can do.

[birues]

Two-Toned Echoes

Pairing: Hythlodaeus/Azem/Emet-Selch, vague WoL/Emet-Selch situationship Rating: Teen Word count: 2.7k Summary: After Emet-Selch revealed the true natures of Zodiark, Hydaelyn and the tragedy that befell on his people, Warrior of Light experiences a particular, alien flashback. Which, later spurns into a conversation between the Warrior and Emet-Selch

“Wouldn’t you wish for the same?”

The man turns his face towards you, ever so slightly, as if he cannot bear to do more. It wouldn’t matter either way. Because as the echo turns your world upside down all you can do is to hope that someone will hold you as your body falls. 

You open your eyes to a particular hell. One that fills you with more dread than you’ve ever got from an… echo? This is an echo. Right? The dread shatters your conscious thoughts as the flames of the vision sweep you. You know this alien place. You know it. 

And as you run, you’re searching for someone. 

You would shout, but your screams could never outdo the ones around you. More than a thousand times a day, you curse you don’t have your husbands’ talent. As the vindicated bodies blur around you, you’re grateful you don’t. 

Your soul calls for a name through a bond so strong, that nothing would be able to break it. The buildings collapse, and the dust burns your eyes. Not good. You see the creature hurling towards you too late. The impact shatters your ribs, and if you still could, you would smile. Thinking about how he’ll lecture you once you get out of this. 

Because he’s here, that means they’re both safe.

You will get out of this, you always have. Always will. 

You try to raise your head from the rubble you’ve landed upon. Your vision can barely make out the red mask. “You’re alright? Thank goodness.”

—

He’s about to leave when he hears a body falling to the ground. His vision switches and he turns. On instinct. Worried shouts, the Scions crowd around their beloved Champion. 

“Is she?”

“She’s okay. Though I do not know what happened.”

“I know what this is. Though, it’s been a while since the Echo knocked her out like this.” 

Ah. the Echo. Of course. A fragment of a forgotten talent at the hands of someone who does not know what to do with it. He should leave. He has said his piece. He should… Yet… Something nails him to the ground. At that moment, his Hero opens her eyes, and her gaze finds him.

“You’re alright? Thank goodness.”

He petrifies where he stands. The same forgotten words emerge from the soil of his mind, a different voice. The same expression of relief and love on a different face. And here he thought Azem couldn’t break his heart more than she already had. Oh how wrong he was… How wrong he was… 

He wills himself apart from her presence. He can’t. He just… can’t. 

—

He finds his Hero in the wilderness, away from the Fanow. A bottle of wine in one hand, sitting on a log. Her gaze is distant as the moonlight paints her features on a somber canvas. Yet, her tightening grip on the bottle betrays her awareness. Her ability to sense him through their bond has proven troubling, yet… What a tiresome affair not to lean through it like a desperate wretch. 

“Look at you,” he scoffs. “ One single vision regarding the Calamity our brethren faced and you’re already wallowing in the ground.” 

Her answer is a whisper. “It didn’t feel like it. I’ve had visions before… Some of them were terrifying. But this? This was…”

She shivers and lifts her gaze to the sky, trying to forget mayhap. To remind herself the sky is not burning. Would that he could do the same.

“Well, you can adorn what you saw with whatever adjectives you desire but they would not do the real experience justice.” 

“All this time I was wondering what was the catalyst of your madness. I suppose I’m starting to understand.”

He laughs, a little manically, his anguish creeping, proving her right. 

“Oh my… One vision and you fancy yourself an expert of my misery? You cannot, Hero. You cannot possibly understand.”

Not even if you remember, he thinks, bitterly. You’ve left us, after all. You died. You’ve forgotten and moved on. 

If only the deep sorrow in her very soul hadn’t made a liar out of him. If only he could unsee it. If only it changed something.

“No,” she accepts. “I cannot. I saw my fair share of terror but not once has the Star itself started to rot and deteriorate like that.” His Hero grimaces and does the most unexpected thing, hands the bottle to him. “But I can try to understand.” 

He sighs in defeat, sitting on the log beside her, gracefully accepting her offer. It seems eons matter not, he is still incapable of denying her. But he’s so lonely and she’s– 

“Believe it or not, my dear, that was not the final catalyst. I’ve lost–” Hythlodaeus—half of my heart, “ –so much. Yet, once Zodiark restored our Star, We thought the worst was over, at least. Oh how wrong we were.” 

“The Sundering.” 

“Yes, your dear Mother’s handiwork.” 

His very being burns with abhorrence, his hatred, depthless. It wasn’t enough that damned woman tore her own pupil asunder. Her daughter all but name. She stained her remains with her mark, wielded her as a weapon against his brethren–

Why? Why hadn’t she spared Azem?

Thankfully, she doesn’t try to defend Hydaelyn. She frowns, instead. Pondering how to proceed? What to say so he doesn’t run to the shadows like a wounded animal? 

“You said Hydaelyn sundered Zodiark, the Star itself, and all who dwelled upon it. If all who dwelled upon the Star were sundered… You mean the people, don’t you? Their souls?” 

For a moment, the Sorcerer of Eld is speechless. To think she would reach the truth with so little information– 

“Well well... Mark me impressed,” he says, clapping slowly. “You actually managed to get there all by yourself, hero. Ere I answer your question, however, I would like to know how you've reached such a conclusion.”

Oh the look she bestows him, he does not like. As if this charade he carries on him like a heavy armor is made of glass, utterly useless.

“You have no idea, do you? Just how much you reveal in your bitterness…”

He shrugs, glass armor weighs, alright. But he does not show. “And now… you pointed out your enemies’ weakness to him. Not the brightest thing to do, my dear.” 

She elbows him on the side, tearing off a chuckle from him. “As if it is something you do not know.”

Emet-Selch gulps the bottle, in a graceless manner mayhaps but who cares? She is as reluctant as he is when it comes to the inner workings of her mind. 

“Very well, I’ll give you this one. Yes, you are correct. It came without warning. The light… searing everything in its way. When I realized what had happened…” his voice dies out. 

“ … You had escaped?” 

“Only three of us were fortunate enough to do so– me being one of them. Elidibus tore a getaway to the rift. Him and Lahabrea… they must’ve been gotten me out as well.” 

“You sound unsure.”

“Must you force me to remember every detail of it, Hero?” he snaps. 

“...I am sorry.” And to her credit, she genuinely looks so. Then she shifts, words like a steady strike against the vicious waves. “So, the three of you have escaped… And the rest?”

“Why, their very beings were divided into fourteen, of course. Yet, by our power, we unsundered Ascians may raise up one of their fragments to their original office.”

He looks at the fragment who once held such office. “Ah, but I suppose this in itself bears explaining. So...the names by which you know us are not, in fact, our names.”

“If not names… Titles?”

“Correct. Be it Elidibus, Lahabrea, or Igeyorhm, all are titles of office. And when an office is vacated, it may be filled by another. Over the eons, I have overseen several changings of the guard among our sundered brethren. And in such instances, the vacant title ordinarily goes to another fragment of the selfsame soul.”

She narrows her eyes, leaning towards him to get a better look on his face. He does not avoid it, holding his face in a practiced ennui as she hovers between disgust and the desire for more information. Alcohol must have been making it harder. 

“I assume you find these souls with that talent of yours?”

“Thus my tireless work has been counted for naught. Combing through the millions just to find a dozen is not an easy task, you know… Even with a soul sight.”

“And then what? You just– force who they’ve been ages ago into their souls and erase every trace of who they are?” 

“Couldn’t have summarized better myself, Hero,” he says, in the same disinterested tone. Mayhap if he strokes the flames of her anger high enough this tiresome interrogation will cease. And it’s not like he is lying. Reason doesn’t stop the crystal atop his chest from burning.

“That’s–”

“They don’t get to be free from the oath they have taken. Not until we have achieved our goal.” 

The resentment is akin to a careless magick cast. He isn’t free. He never is. He never will be. Why would he spare them? He sighs. Hands the bottle back to her, careful not to touch her hand. Weeding out the emotion from his voice ere he continues.

 “While it is by no means impossible to raise up wholly unrelated individuals, 'tis we whose fervent entreaties brought forth Lord Zodiark─whose souls He claimed in the beginning─who make the truest servants.”

It’s her turn to grimace and drink. The lock of hair escaping her ponytail doesn’t distract him. Nor the mole right next to her lips.

“The way you talk about Zodiark is passing strange, you know that?”

He looks at the moon, the prison illuminating the night gently. Just like his husband. “I am not here to put you at ease, my dear.”

“Hah. Couldn’t do that if you tried.” she pauses, the sounds of the forest filling the growing silence. A tud, the bottle getting slammed into the ground. “So… that makes three unsundered, eleven sundered Ascians.”

He turns his head, the world opens in a way only he can be privy to. But her soul is– no. A haphazard guess, nothing more. He is almost afraid when he asks. “Eleven?”

“I saw your little meeting room– Thank Nabriales.” she deadpans. “There were fourteen chambers, I am sure of it.” 

“...Ten.”

“But-”

“Ten sundered Ascians. Three unsundered.” 

He isn’t sure why he is telling her this. Could it be he is trying to resurrect a memory? A flicker of recognition? Could that dead echo back in the cave given hope to his foolish, foolish heart?

It is futile, impossible. He knows better than anyone the laws of the Underworld. How many times her memories must have been washed clean after being torn apart? 

And what would even happen if she remembers? Doesn’t he know the best what he will find in those eyes? Horror. Disgust. Hate. Doesn’t he remember the horror she had felt when she had reached out to him after Zodiark’s summoning? 

He tells himself he doesn’t care. As long as she’s hale and whole, he doesn’t care. 

“Emet-Selch?” Her voice, so different than what it used to be, pulls him from the dark currents of his mind.

“Hero.”

“Welcome to the land of the living,” she says, worry still apparent. When he doesn’t answer she presses on. “You were saying ten sundered, three unsundered.”

“Our numbers have thinned thanks to you. But yes, that was the case before you entered the stage.” 

“Who in the seven hells sits on the fourteenth, then?”

How ironic it is that she would ask that… “Before we summoned Zodiark, there was… one among us who defied our decision. And left us. Defected. So, my dear Hero. Her vacant seat remains to serve as a reminder. Her title will never be spoken and she never will be remembered. Save for her betrayal.” 

“Was she one of the nay-sayers who summoned Hydaelyn?” 

It is a reasonable assumption, logic would say. But the mere suggestion of it, especially coming from this ignorant reflection… Would it anger Azem, to know what Hydaelyn did to her remains?

His “Of course not.” is not as neutral as he likes. “She was vehemently against any god that would be summoned.” 

“How refreshing to know there was one among you who had some sense left.”

Whatever bitter wrath he tried to rein in until now, spills and scatters.

“You ignorant, insolent creature.” he raises from the ground, and so does she– falling into a fight stance. “You, who shiver like a coeurl kitten in the slightest taste of our misery, my misery, dare to judge me? Look at me!”

The eyes, amber of the same hue, blazing with the same defiance. It hurts all the same. The words are there to remind her, or himself?

“Fancy us the maddened villains all you like. What we did back then, we did it because we had to. Because it was our duty. And it was the most painful decision we had to take. To save our star which, I should remind you, your miserable ilk now dwells on. Thanks to our people’s sacrifice.” 

With every sentence, he walks towards her. Until they stand face to face. It is the epitome of self-control, truly, when he decides against grabbing her by the collar. 

“ Too consumed with the stubborn idealism of hers… she forsook her duty. She went on and on and on about finding another way. Every single time, she came back, empty-handed. Do you know what would’ve happened, hero, if she had her way with the star?” 

Surely, it is not a pang of sorrow and guilt reflecting from her towards that damned bond. Surely he is delirious with fury. “There would be no star left to save. If you declare us out of sense, then she was beyond saving.”

She glares at him, with the same intensity and heartbreak as ages ago. The voice that keeps reminding him they are not the same is quiet as a corpse. 

“What did you sacrifice?” she asks calmly. “To you god. What did your people sacrifice?”

For the first time, it is he who averts his eyes. He raises his head again, to the moon. To his fractured God who asked not only his own heart but hers as well. And Hades had not even asked for forgiveness. He had not been there when she stormed the Bureau of the Architect’s ruins, demanding to see their husband. He had not tried to reach out and find her. And that day, when she had appeared in their once-home for the last time… He was too busy lashing out his heartbreak when she told him she was not staying, that she hadn’t changed her mind. So she left, fulfilling his worst fears, and leaving him with nothing but a completely broken look on her beautiful face. He remembers her, trying to put together a smile amidst the tears before she left for good.  For him. The audacity!

The woman before him doesn’t smile amidst the tears, awaiting the reckoning. Emet-Selch does not tear his eyes from the moon. 

“Just as I thought. It was them, weren’t they? It was the people themselves.”

The misery in her cracking voice is too sharp that he closes his eyes shut. A misery that unkindly reminds him of what he’s always known. What he was trying to honor in his own way for ages with his travels. 

Azem had loved their people, this star, more fiercely than any. It was just who she was, something inherent to her soul, whomever she became, whatever form she took.

“You are right,” she says, picking her bag from the floor. “Maybe she would’ve failed. But do you know what I think? I think she was alone. And I am so glad that she is forgotten if the alternative was her being remembered as a ruinous monster.” 

She spits the last two words at him. His right hand will need healing, the thumb stuck inside his tight fist is broken. He needs to leave... he needs to leave now or he will shout all the accusations he’s been amassing inside to this enigma who just cannot remember. He laughs instead. In a true two-dimensioned evil villain fashion. 

“Of course you would say that.”

[yasuosexual]

hello! i may have been binging your posts they're so good-- i was wondering if you could write how the elezen men and thancred would react to finding out the wol is pregnant?

anon you have read my mind! 😳 this was next on my list to post!!! i had another request about naming the baby after them, so that is coming next!

warnings: pregnancy, established relationship, HW spoilers, SHWB spoilers (is that even the shadowbringers acronym…)

THANCRED:

- when you tell him, he is shocked at first— this definitely wasn’t planned. it doesn’t take him long to be overwhelmed with joy, though.

- brings you into a tight hug, but releases his grip as soon as he remembers that his child is inside of you. he doesn’t want to accidentally hurt either of his babies!

- “i’m going to be a dad!” sir you already are

- the first person he tells is ryne, who is elated to hear of the news. the rest of the scions are just as happy to hear that a new baby scion will be joining the league!

- the happiest of all, though, is thancred. he is over the moon with the idea that he will get to have a miniature version of himself. he kisses your tummy every single night and makes sure to talk to his baby. he loves to tell people that his child will be handsome like his father, but inside he hopes it looks just like you.

AYMERIC:

- with all that life has brought for aymeric, a bit of joy was in order. and he was filled to the brim with joy when you told him you were pregnant.

- you hadn’t seen his eyes shine with such intensity since the day you got married. his hands instantly wrapped around your sides as he looked you up and down. you noticed tears forming at the corners of his eyes which you promptly wiped.

- the two of you shared an emotional hug. both crying, for the same yet different reasons. you were both delighted with the thought of becoming parents, but aymeric had more on his mind than that.

- it didn’t matter that his child was yet to be born— aymeric made a promise to himself to always love his child for whoever they are and whoever they want to be. his child would forever be of house de borel. no shame, no guilt, no nothing, because his child is loved, and will forever be loved. and this day, aymeric swore to be the father he never had, and to protect his child no matter what comes his way.

HAURCHEFANT:

- he cried when you told him he was going to be a dad. salty tears of joy streamed down his face as he picked you up into his arms, very careful around your abdomen.

- haurchefant was overjoyed to become a father! he couldn’t wait to welcome the littlest knight of ishgard to his family.

- he didn’t take much time to relish in the thought— he ran right to house foretemps to tell his dad all about it. edmond, emmanellain, and artoriel were all excited to hear the news! emmanellain made sure to ask as many embarassing questions as possible, earning disdainful looks from his father and older brother.

- you didn’t mind the questions, though, and found it quite cute how the brothers fawned over you and their unborn nephew. despite haurchefant being his illegitimate son, edmond was happy to be given his first grandchild. and you were even more happy that your child would have the most loving family.

ESTINIEN:

- estinien is a bit puzzled at first… he coulda sworn that pull out game was strong …

- estinien is a bit puzzled at first… he is going to be a dad… he’s going to be a dad?!!

- after your words sink into his head, estinien cups your face with his hands. he’s smiling, like a complete idiot, and it’s a little scary! but you can feel the intense warmth radiating off of him.

- he pulls you into a hug and spins you around in the air. when he sets you down, he kneels to meet your abdomen. placing one of his hands on your hip and the other on your tummy, he rests his ear flat against you to listen.

- you can’t help but giggle at his gesture as it seems a bit goofy, but he’s actually obsessed with the fact that you’re going to have his child! he jokes that his child will become a great dragon-slaying warrior as he is, and you can’t help but smile and agree.

celly

aymeric’s story makes me so freaking emotional and i could write an entire book all about having a family with him like 😭 i relate to him in so many ways… comfort character moment

also i get that haurchefant’s isn’t exactly lore accurate… personally i’d like to think that if he didn’t die that the relationships between his dad and half-brothers was created/mended … one big happy family 🥺

[lilas]

fancy

WC: 1533 | G | Aymeric x Avi’li (WoL)

Avi’li thinks about Aymeric while he lays drunk on the floor with Haurchefant. Set after Patch 2.4

Big thank you to @myreia for helping me edit this! 💕💕

—

Carefully considered words, spoken low and steady in a voice like velvet. Cheeks tinted pink from the bite of snow. Ice blue eyes framed beneath long, dark lashes. Lips upturned in a polite smile…

Avi’li hadn’t paid much attention to the meeting. The words exchanged between Aymeric and Alphinaud lost to him—something about Midgardsormr and heretics — attention captured by this man dressed in blue and gold. Funny how Aymeric fascinates him in a strange way. The man has naught but to be there and Avi’li can’t help but observe how he stands—stance poised, his arms settled across his broad chest, chapped lips parting in small exhales.

It makes sense. Aymeric is an admirable man; kind yet firm, patient but unyielding, a true leader in every sense of the word. Avi’li has every reason to want to study his example. Jacke had inspired the same feelings when they first met (his profile silhouetted, barely there smirk handsome in the street lights of Limsa) and proved to be a great mentor. Aymeric may yet fill a similar role (wind toussels his black hair, dusted with white snow).

Yet every time Aymeric meets his eyes, Avi’li feels his chest squeeze and a curious heat rise to his face. It’s the same feeling he gets when he’s squished side by side with Y’mhitra over an Allagan text, her fingers tracing her jaw while lips purse in thought; the same feeling he gets when V’kebbe stretches her arms over her head, mouth held slack after a catnap in the sun and lit in the evening glow.

It’s strange, Avi’li thinks, that these different sensations feel so similar. One born out of attraction and the other… a desire, but a desire for what? He traces his lips and imagines the shape of Aymeric’s. Do they feel rough from the cold? Soft? Avi’li’s tongue ghosts his lips. Do they taste as sweet as he smells, like maple?

Maybe it’s simply envy for Aymeric’s poise and power and countenance. Maybe—

“And what is our foremost Primal hunter doing with such a pensive expression?”

Avi’li’s fingers drop from his lips (when did he start touching them?) and his head turns towards Haurchefant. “Did I look pensive…?”

They lay together on the plush rug of Haurchefant’s private rooms in Camp Dragonhead, several hours after Aymeric bid farewell and returned to Ishgard with his retinue. Flames lick out from the fireplace, heat sinking into stone and blanketing the room in a pleasant warmth. Two goblets sit by their heads, and a wine bottle is precariously situated against Haurchefant’s bent leg.

“You did, and I do not think the wine is solely to blame for such a far away look.” Haurchefant moves his leg, knocking into the wine. He startles and darts for the bottleneck, fumbling a bit before he holds it secure and moves it safely to another spot on the floor. Sighing with relief, he adjusts himself so he rests on his side, stretched out parallel to Avi’li and smiling. “Pray allow me to be privy to your thoughts?”

Avi’li answers with a shrug. “Thinking about Aymeric.”

“The Lord Commander?” Haurchefant raises an eyebrow. “What about him?”

“Ay’anno, just thinkin’ about him.”

“Ah, requested another meeting did he?”

“Wouldn’t you be the one to know that?”

Haurchefant sighs, dramatically wistful. “Unfortunately I am not someone he discloses clandestine rendezvous in the moonlight to.”

Avi’li scoffs, “Nothing clandestine is happening. I just… ” he waves his hand above their heads, fingers spread, “…admire him.”

“I see.”

“He’s an interesting man. Smart and tall and collected. That stuff.”

“As you say….”

Avi’li frowns at the suspicious tone and rolls onto his side to properly face Haurchefant. His friend is trying and horrifically failing at hiding a crooked grin. “What?”

“What about?”

“Why’re you smiling like a spriggan?”

“Like a spriggan? Are you implying my teeth are anything similar to a creature who gnaws on rocks for a living?”

“I’m implying you look like a spriggan who just found a crystal horde. Why?”

“Only for the reason that your fancy for Ser Aymeric is quite adorable.”

Avi’li blinks. “My fancy?”

“Mhm.” Haurchefant’s head and shoulders relax back into the rug. He is looking much too smug for Avi’li’s liking. “Honestly, I should have known when you were so blatantly staring at him during your introductory meeting.”

“I was not blatantly—“

“Then you were staring discreetly?”

“I wasn’t staring at all!” Avi’li rolls onto his back, arms folded tightly across his chest. It’s too warm in the room now. The combination of fire and wine makes his head swim. “It’s bloody freezing here.” Aymeric sits opposite him across the table, haloed by the soft glow of fire. “I wanted to get closer to the fire…”

The words trail off. A soft frown pinches Avi’li’s brow, doubt in his own words. The fire had been so far from his mind.

Haurchefant sucks his teeth, unconvinced. He lazily reaches out and tugs a stray lock of Avi’li’s silvery hair. “No one would blame you for it, you know,” he says as Avi’li bats his hand away. “Ser Aymeric is a handsome man, and a good quarter of knights could admit to feeling the same.”

“Haurchefant, I have a girlfriend.” Y’mhitra. Beautiful, intelligent Y’mhitra with an older, scarier sister. Haurchefant scoffs.

“It cannot be considered unfaithful for merely being attracted to someone else besides your partner. Then everyone would commit infidelity.”

I guess that’s true, Avi’li thinks. Dating someone has never kept his eyes from wandering, albeit things are different with Mhitra. Exclusive. Is it really okay for him to feel this way? Is it really made better if so many others feel the same?

Wait, Avi’li squints at Haurchefant. “A quarter of knights… are you attracted to Aymeric?”

Haurchefant coughs uncomfortably. Sitting up, he preoccupies himself with the goblets and wine. He tops their drinks off, finishing the bottle. All the while, Avi’li watches him with increasing speculation.

Finally, as he hands Avi’li a cup, Haurchefant admits, “I was, yes. For a short time, just in passing, really.” He observes his drink, lifts it high, watches the light glint off the polished bronze. “We never had much reason to speak to each other until we came into our respective positions.”

“So you never fucked?”

Haurchefant barks out a laugh. “No! Could you imagine? Mm, actually I can imagine—“ he shakes his head—“But we do have a bit of a shared history with the same man.” His thumb taps against his goblet. “Training can be an insular time for all of us.”

Avi’li’s frowns and takes a sip of wine. “And how did you know you were crushing? That you weren’t just… admiring?”

“Crushing?”

“Fancying.”

“Avi’li, you’ve been with others before, correct? Romantically?” Avi’li arcs an eyebrow, staring. “Ah.” Haurchefant waves a hand. “Quite right and anyone besides your dear Y’mhitra?”

“Yes…”

Haurchefant can’t help the soft laugh at his friend’s wary tone. “And when you are… were around them, ‘admiring’ them as you say, how do you feel?”

“Like my…” Avi’li’s brows furrows, eyes blinking slowly. “…chest was being squeezed…”

Y’mhitra, bathed in the glow of her lamplight and Avi’li can’t help but lean forward and kiss her. When V’kebbe bites into a sandwich with all the bliss in the world and Avi’li wonders about her teeth on his skin. How Jacke’s fingers slide down the length of a knife and—

He gapes. “Did I fucking have a crush on Jacke?”

“Language, my good sir,” Haurchefant tsks. “And who in the seven hells is Jacke, pray tell? I thought we were talking about Ser Aymeric?”

—when Aymeric meets his eyes across the oak table with a smile and Avi’li must look away, heat in his chest.

“Fuck. I think I like Aymeric.”

“You do not say.”

“In the fancying way.”

“In all honesty, I am deeply surprised you were not already aware.”

“How was I supposed to know?” Avi’li releases a wistful sigh, eyes fixed to the wooden beams above their heads, expression wondrous. “I’ve never thought of a man in this way before. What do I even do?”

A moment of comfortable quiet envelopes them. Haurchefant sits and observes Avi’li’s silent musings, watching the emotion shift so openly in his face. Finally, he sets the goblet down, moves a touch closer to his friend and lays beside him, eyes cast up to the ceiling.

“You would not court two women the same way, would you?”

“No.”

“And you would not court anyone without discussing it with Y’mhitra first?”

“Of course not.”

Haurchefant nudges his side lightly with an elbow. “Then this need not be any different. Every person is unique in how you approach them for romance and intimacy. You need not act on it at all if you do not wish it. Do not overthink this simply because of someone’s gender. Instead, I encourage you to enjoy how much love this world has to offer us.”

Avi’li chuckles warmly. “Such a poet.”

“Of course, any self respecting Ishgardian knight is such.”

“Hm.” A pause. Then— “Do you think he knows?”

“Fuck, yes.”

“What? No way.”

“My dearest friend, you are not subtle at all.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

[nights-at-crystarium]

Fragments - episodes 19-22 author notes

You can find similar breakdown posts on older episodes in my pinned!

Obligatory ShB spoiler warning.

First off, the two panels that took a silly amount of time just because I wanted to reflect Vivi’s impressions on the city.

Episodes 18, 19, 20 open up with Vivi being concerned with the most pressing matters:

Can’t fight if you ain’t pretty (or got just 1-2 outfits to be pretty in, that won’t do either)

I still really like the panel above, especially their pose. Episodes 19-22 show how they gradually get rid of physical boundaries. They didn’t even touch back when they first met (episode 15).

Vivi’s casual about physical affection with friends, just one of his core things.

Of course Vivi would trust and choose the company of a pixie, a supernatural being, over a (presumably) human who only reinforces Vivi’s worst opinions on humanity at that point in time, concealing himself and swimming in secrets. Get rekt nerd.

At least Vivi isn’t openly hostile, just.. Dismissive? I saw some other WoLs who outright hate Exarch for abducting the Scions and almost getting themselves, the WoL, killed at Ghimlyt Dark. Vivi, however, just wants to be left alone.

Tfw the love of your life is being stolen by your dear friend. Or vice versa? Or both at the same time? Anyway, Vivi and Feo Ul form a new cool kids' club and Exarch isn't invited.

Can't relax in your favorite secluded spot for a godsdamned moment without some pesky dragoon randomly popping out of nowhere.

While I hc Exarch being able to sense living presence around the Tower, imagine doing that 24/7 for every person. I like to think that he learned to filter it out, turn off/on at will. And while he's in a public place, with his glamour up, he doesn't need to upkeep the "radar", he's just chilling and is possibly lost in thoughts, and that's why Vivi startles him.

This scene bears more symbolic meaning than plot importance. And, uh, some foreshadowing? Forelighting? x'D While Vivi doesn’t fall (heh) for his savior, he’ll reflect upon this at a later time.

Vivi’s normally careful and stately. Yes he’s an elf but he do be carryin’ himself like a cat. There’s a lot of control and assertion behind his trademark nonchalant posture. So, NORMALLY, this wouldn’t happen. Maybe he got distracted by the shiny? And where’s Feo Ul?

Exarch, however, the man that chokes on air unprompted, in a moment like this acts before he could think. As some people correctly noted, the old man’s QUICK. The “screentime” stretches out as Vivi’s life almost begins flashing before his eyes, while for Exarch it's gotta be a mere second or two.

I’m extra proud of the colorwork here. As if blood’s gone from Vivi’s face, as if his entire body went cold, but life slowly returns to him, starting with that hand. You bet this’s brimming with subtext.

Exarch uses his left hand over the right, for better friction and probably because he doesn’t like the attention to his right hand.

I like that this panel’s caused confusion, it worked as intended :9 An all too vague dark joke that almost cost Vivi his life. In his head it went like “yeah anyone can fly once, when they’re about to go splat”, but he wasn’t only preoccupied with the jumps, but also didn’t KNOW yet that he HAS TO speak with a fae like almost with a child, or a lawyer. Simplest terms. No ambiguity. EVER. They’ll misinterpret you unwittingly, or on purpose.

And so they did. Or didn’t? Feo Ul’s spent a long time offscreen, but whether they chose not to help, or even gave Vivi a little push, will forever stay a mystery because why not.

Lesson learned.. On both sides.. Hopefully. Also, fret not, Exarch WILL say fuck one day, one day~

Vivi's lucky. Incredibly so. He's aware of it, doesn't see it as anything special, like you don't see anything special in being able to read this. Perhaps jumping up an unknown structure while being accompanied by an exceedingly curious and mischievous creature is risky even for his kind, but Vivi's so used to getting away with so many things that he doesn't stop to consider it for the tiniest moment.

The first genuine exchange of smiles.

Silver lining: now they have better chances at getting along and returning to that world-saving duty.

Update from January 2024: I came back here to tell you something that took me so long to realize about episode 20′s description:

And all he saw was the Light, and then he knew that Death wore white in this world.

I randomly popped off with this prose, which on itself is a cool thing, but now I realize the extra meanings it could take on. Thinking about 5.x and Elidibus has me feeling unwell in the best way. THAT VIVI ALSO WEARS WHITE HERE IS UH. A coincidence. But it also kinda works as the Warrior of Darkness becomes somewhat of a local Reaper in the First, and then, well, then we have that Light corruption arc :3c

Vivi's calm and tender enough for a pixie to trust him with their wings.

Feo Ul ate and drank several times their size, and all that hero talk.. Ugh. Time for a nap.

Drawing this made me yawn at least 3 times. You’re not immune either.

He’s activating his scanners :>

Vivi's definition of nice is "not nagging, begging or preaching, and using bare facts and logic to convince the hero to do the hero thing".

Literally the next page if you’re reading in order :’> Riiiiiiiiight. That hero thing.

We don’t question whether Vivi invited his loveliest branch, or if they invited themselves. The fact is, they’re there and Vivi’s totally cool with it.

Exarch must be watching. And probably foaming at mouth as Feo Ul keeps leading in the race for Vivi’s heart. They don’t only earn the hero’s trust, but get in his bed and, gasp, brush his hair.

Vivi's getting comfy in his role somewhere between a disney princess and Feo Ul’s pet.

A writing-related tangent incoming, but, since you’re here, I assume you’re already somewhat interested in this kinda stuff.

So, there’s the script, the plain text that waits to get illustrated. The screenplay, if you will. I don’t just sit down and draw enough random things to fill a few pages, I approach this as an actual cohesive serialized story.

I changed a good half of this episode when I began storyboarding it. In the initial script from some months ago, Vivi said "I slept so well". Something about this didn't sit right with me. It’s the most basic mistake of telling instead of showing. I asked myself, would he, a person who takes good sleep and dreams for granted, say that out loud? Nah. I removed that bit, and drew him stretching deliciously. He also asked Feo Ul if they guarded his dreams, they smiled vaguely but warmly just like in the finalized version, but then Vivi simply muttered "I could get used to this" and gave them headpats. I decided to elevate this scene by adding this tiny rollercoaster, which brought Feo Ul's greyness to the forefront, and thickly hinted that Vivi doesn't only sleep well, but has nice dreams that he probably starts cherishing after this.

To be fair, this isn’t super important for the main plot, I just wanted to highlight the difference between Vivi and Exarch, the latter being in a hate-hate relationship with sleep. Vivi’s affinity with dreams is a door I like to keep open for the possible future story (talking post-EW events).

Now you know this’s the face they make before going apeshit.

Imagine if this prank didn't exist and instead Vivi simply said "I slept so well, this's so important to me". I’m proud of the writing muscle I’m growing on the fly ;w;

Ardbert's chance to act and feel normal, thwarted in the next few seconds.

I'm so glad that people are picking up on this!! “Hey man” is Vivi’s way of providing whatever comfort he could. An illusion of normalcy. He’s emotionally intelligent when it matters.

..But he should’ve also considered that Feo Ul can and will ruin the vibe :’>

Another screenwriting thing: this episode lacks an establishing shot, i.e. the obligatory zoomed out view on everyone in the room, but I think this’s a rare case of “less is more”. Along with the light vs shadow, it reinforces the feeling of separation. Vivi and Feo Ul are shown together, interacting, doing cute stuff, while Ardbert’s alone. Sorry not sorry for the hurty :’>

This’s all I’ve got for now. Thanks for reading and paying so much attention! People start to notice and analyze the things I’m weaving in, and it’s the best kinda interaction I as a creator could wish for.