#wol x sidurgu

[lavampira]

well, aren't we a creature of habit.

[anarkhebringer]

'Til Death Do Us Part [Reupload]

[drkmissionaries]

Pray, meet me at the Forgotten Knight.

[endless-nightshift]

My WoLxSidugu ship gets stronger and more canon every job quests

[myreia]

Sketches of Times Lost

Day 10: Stable

something is sparking between aureia and sidurgu, and they can't seem to see it. but rielle can. sidurgu x female warrior of light (pre-relationship), mentions of aymeric x wol. set during stormblood patches, but after the lvl 60-70 drk quests. rated: teen 2086 words ao3 link

“…when I said you could accompany us back to Ishgard, I didn’t mean for it to become a godsdamned holiday.”

“Resting at an inn is not a holiday.”

“And this isn’t a sight-seeing trip!”

“It’s fine, Sid! It’s one night! Is there something wrong with one night?”

“It’s dangerous, that’s what. For her, for you, for me.”

“Dangerous from whom, exactly? The Empire’s been all but routed from Gyr Abania. Besides, I don’t think many in patrons would consider confronting two dark knights head-on, and those that could would be drunk out of their minds. Please tell me you’re not afraid of a drunkard.”

“That’s not—godsdammit, you can be a right bloody bonehead when you want to be, you know that, eh?”

Rielle sighs and leans forward in her saddle, patting Filo’s neck. The chocobo chirrups, his head tugging on the reins as he leans into her hand, enjoying the feel as she pets his shiny black feathers. The day has stretched on and on, the road getting longer with every step, Baelsar’s Wall shadowing the horizon and somehow never getting closer, the dusty heat growing intolerable in the Gyr Abanian haze.

If she were younger—or travelling alone, let’s be honest—she would have pelted Sidurgu with the oh-so-tempting “are we there yet?” question, but for now she holds her tongue. Though Sidurgu has dragged her from one end of Coerthas to the other, even trekking into Gridania on the rare occasion, this is the furthest from Ishgard she has ever been. Her rear and legs may ache from too many hours in the saddle, but even with Sidurgu and Aureia’s endless bickering, she can’t remember a time she was this happy on the road.

She doesn’t want it to end.

She’s being selfish, she knows. Like a little kid—an actual little kid, thank you very much—asking for another five minutes at their favourite park, or clinging onto a favourite toy that has long since fallen apart. Sidurgu wanted them to return on their own, without company. He didn’t say as much—not aloud—but she saw it in his eyes when tending to his wounds. If he wasn’t stuck leaning against a rock, moaning and groaning and complaining about her fussing over him, he would have taken her and stalked down the road the moment Aureia’s back was turned. So, she struck at the opportune moment, piping up before he could say or do anything, and pointedly asked her—“You’ll come back with us to Ishgard, won’t you?”

She didn’t answer right away. There was a crease in her brow, a downcast turn to her eyes, and in that moment Rielle feared she would say no. But then she brightened, a warm smile spreading across her face, and she said—“I suppose I must. I’m going the same way, after all.”

That was yesterday. They walked for a time, Filo puffing and panting beneath Sidurgu’s weight before it became too much for the chocobo. The poor thing was the runt of his flock—Aureia’s told her the story many times—incapable of carrying an Elezen cavalier let alone a massive Au Ra in full plate armour and with a greatsword to boot.

And so they camped early, finding a spot beneath a single sprawling tree. Leaving Sidurgu to make the fire—he insisted, it was the one thing he could manage without aggravating his wounds—Rielle and Aureia hurried down the slope to the little rippling stream. Rielle wasn’t much help; she splashed in the water, giggling and free, scaring away the fish Aureia tried her best to catch. A waste, maybe, but neither Aureia nor Sidurgu told her off for it. She was too busy enjoying wading in the stream herself, and he… well. Rielle is certain he was looking at her a different way. Or maybe the same way he always has. Or maybe…

They had the last of their rations that night, laughing and smiling around the fire. It did not feel like a rationed meal.

And now today. Aureia suggested she ride Filo instead, leaving her and Sidurgu to walk ahead. Rielle was thrilled—still is, even though she is hurting all over now. She has never properly ridden a chocobo before, and Filo is such a pretty bird. The hands at the Holy Stables call him mean and difficult—he has a legendary grudge against one of the Scions, the Hyur with the white hair Aureia makes weird faces when he’s mentioned—but Rielle thinks differently. Difficult, no. Misunderstood? Maybe.  

She knows what that’s like.

But now the sun is slowly sinking toward the red-brown peaks, and they really are going to have to find somewhere to stay or camp. They’re approaching a crossroads—literally. Up the hill and over the ridge, there’s a little inn with a wide stable for chocobos and warm, soothing lights in the windows. The perfect place for a trio of weary travellers.  

But of course Aureia and Sidurgu can’t seem to make up their minds.

“Happy to be a bonehead, then, if it means someone here has the voice of reason,” Aureia says.

Sidurgu snorts, but Rielle knows better. Even when his back is turned, she can hear him trying not to smile—and his tail is curling. Sometimes she wonders if it’s the same sort of thing as those girls in the Forgotten Knight when they twist their hair around their finger while making eyes at Gibrillont. He only does it around her. Maybe he doesn’t even know it.

No matter how testy their bickering gets, he likes it. He used to bicker with Fray, too.

“You know those are incompatible,” he mutters. “Bonehead. Voice of reason. Not exactly the same thing.”

“What can I say? I’m full of contradictions. A right paradox, maybe.”

“Bloody hells, you can say that again. Here I was thinking you had put aside your greatsword for good when you all but kidnapped us on this little hol…”

“Hm? What was that?”

“Never mind.”

“Oh, good. And here I thought you said holiday for a moment.”

He lets out a long sigh and passes a hand across his face. “Aureia…”

She flashes him a grin.

He glares at her, a smile tugging at his lips. “Aureia, please. Don’t make me laugh. I’d rather not bleed through my bandages tonight.”

From their position several paces behind, Filo chirrups and throws a look over his shoulder, his dark, beady eyes staring at Rielle. She shrugs and pats his neck. “I know,” she whispers. “I think they’re both being boneheads. What do you think?”

Filo chirps again and shakes himself from side to side in fervent agreement.

“Yes, exactly.”

Aureia raises her arms, her hands brushing the hilt of her greatsword as she pulls her hair back and twists it into a knot. It’s different from the messy, uneven crop she sported when Rielle first met her, long enough to brush her shoulders. There’s a bit of red in it, too, which Rielle doesn’t remember. She didn’t have that when she first came to Ishgard.

“The inn is a good option, Sid,” she says. “Give Rielle a normal night for once instead of sleeping on the ground again.”

“I know that, I simply—”

He pauses, bowing his head to look at her. The difference in height between them would be quite funny, if only height wasn’t such a sore spot. Rielle huffs, making a face. Aureia may be half-Elezen, but she did not inherit their height. Is it a sore spot for her, too? Rielle hasn’t thought to ask her.  

“All right, out with it. Don’t think I don’t know you, Aureia, this isn’t about the inn or Rielle. You’re hanging onto something.”

“I… am I?”

“You don’t want to go back to Ishgard, do you.”

It isn’t a question. An accusation? Something else?

His voice has dropped low, not quite a whisper. Rielle rises a fraction out of the saddle and leans in, straining her ears to catch the conversation.

“Maybe. Yes. Perhaps.”

“Aur.” He rests a hand gently against her shoulder and their pace slows. Their boots scuff the road, a cloud of dirt puffing around their feet. “What’s going on?”

His voice is calm. Firm. Steady. The kind of voice he has after she has a bad nightmare, but not quite.  

“It’s nothing, it’s…” Aureia lets out a long, sad sigh. Rielle tugs sharply on the reigns and Filo hisses in protest, jerking to a stop some feet behind. “There’s someone I must meet with when I return.”

“I see.”

“And I would… rather not.”

A pause. “I suppose the Lord Speaker of the House of Lords and the Lord Commander of the Temple Knights is a difficult man to ignore.”

“He can be, yes. Especially when you’re…” She pauses again. “Fuck. Let’s not pretend I even know what we are anymore. He asked me to marry him and I couldn’t even say yes.”

“Would it be too much to say that I am glad of that?”

“Sid—”

“Damned if I even want to know what you are to him. And I know all too well—very well, in fact—that this is not my place and not my business, but I will say what must be said if no one else will. If you need to hear it. I do not like who you have become with him. I’m sure—Temple Knight aside—he is a pleasant man in his own right. And it would be unfair to accuse him of anything malignant, I know that is not his way. And I do believe you love him, or have loved him—”

“Sid…”

“Past or present, my point still stands. You have chased something with him. Something that has brought you joy, yes, but also great sorrow. From what I have seen, from what you have told me… I believe you must become someone else to remain with him. And I do not believe you will ever be happy becoming that person. If the pair of you were in different circumstances, if you were different people…”

“If he wasn’t the Lord Commander and I wasn’t the Warrior of Light?”

He meets her eyes, his horns casting a shadow across his face in the glare of the setting sun. “If he weren’t a politician and you weren’t the Alliance’s war hound.”

She inhales sharply. “You didn’t have to put it that way.”

“Someone bloody well should have. There are a dozen places you should be rather than wandering the Gyr Abanian wilderness with a surly dark knight and a teenaged girl. A dozen people who need you more than we do. So what other reason was there for all of this, Aureia? A soul crystal cracked? Or an excuse to run?”

A pause. “I don’t think I can talk about this now,” Aureia says quietly.

Sidurgu lets out a long breath. His hand slips from her shoulder. “I’m sorry, that was… harsher than I intended.”

“Don’t be. You were only saying what you thought. And what I’ve thought for some time. Sometimes I think you’re the only person who makes any damn sense.”

“Oh, so is that why you keep finding reasons to come and find me? You’ve long since outgrown the Forgotten Knight.”

Her hand brushes his. “That’s not the only reason.”

He smiles.

Rielle yelps and tips forward, clinging to the reigns.

Filo chirrups shrilly, wings spread wide as if to catch her. She clutches the reigns and pulls herself upright just in time, her cheeks flushing red as Aureia and Sidurgu turn around, both instinctively reaching for their weapons.

“Rielle!” he calls, releasing the hold on his greatsword’s grip. “Are you all right?”

She steadies herself. “Fine!”

“Don’t test the bird. I don’t want you getting thrown out of the saddle—”

“Don’t test your wounds, Sid, I don’t want them re-opening before tomorrow at the earliest if you can help it.” She smirks, proud of herself for the quip, and nudges Filo with her heels. He trots forward, giving the pair a smug look as he trots by. “Let’s go to that inn, shall we? If I deserve a bed for the night, then Filo deserves a stable, don’t you think?”

Sidurgu and Aureia exchange looks, both of them trying very hard not to laugh.

Grinning with triumph, Rielle tucks her hair behind her ears and leads them up the hill and down the path to the inn.  

[devilmented]

“See right through you” or simply “Orion meets Granson and Sidurgu’s Ancient self” 💫✨

[catboynutsack]

Just turned to my boyfriend and asked "do you think if you banged Sidurgu (FFXIV) the ghost of Fray would show up and tell you you're doing it wrong" and they didn't even look at me and said "that's an.... idea"

[zeloinator]

[psijic-toast]

Fluffvember Prompt 5: Good Morning

[aspectedstar]

Introducing...Chrysise Gallolor!

I am now adding my third WoL OC to my roster!

She is my 3rd alt I have been playing her for awhile, and decided to flesh her out as an actual OC.

Some quick facts about her:

She was born in Old Sharlayan, but was taken away from two Midlanders in order to 'save her' from being exploited by her family.

How the Echo manifested in her is eerily similar to Mikoto's. She can see future events, but they aren't set in stone. Any variables can change the outcome of the event. So, while the original event WILL happen, there are different outcomes that can happen.

She is an Astrologian that knows Ishgardian and Sharlayan astrology. Learning both has given her insight on how different and similar they can be.

She didn't join the Scions and other WoLs until well after base HW was over. So, 3.1 was when she officially joined.

Chrysise is interested in a certain grumpy Dark Knight named Sidurgu (developing ship for WoL x Sidurgu).

She knows the basics of archery for hunting and defending herself. Nothing fancy!

If you become under her care, she will make sure you were properly taken care. Any complaints or being stubborn will cost you your sanity.

She hates the heat--the cold is her best friend!

Her OC tag will be "oc: the soul star".

Her main canonverse will be called "verse; radiant ascension".

Full profile can be found here!

[lavampira]

I've forgotten how it feels to have my head over my heels

[anarkhebringer]

I got tagged for that "people you wanna get to know better" tag game, so let's do this

Tagged by @a-new-dork, thanks for the tag

Relationship status: Not in a romantic relationship but I AM in some secret third thing with @floople-doople I guess. Neither of us know what the fuck is going on and we're cool with it.

Favorite colors: Red and purple

Song stuck in my head: Immoral Taste of the Bloody Travel by KagomeP

Favorite foods: Honestly? I dunno since I dislike or can't eat more foods than I like (sensory issues), I have to genuinely sit on it and think. I DO know I LOVE sweets and meat, though.

Last song played: Immoral Taste of the Bloody Travel again

Dream trip: I'm not really a travel kind of person, I haven't even been to more than maybe 5 places outside of my town max

Last thing googled: "ffxiv sidurgu x wol" to look for fanfics and fanart shdugfygh

I never tag anybody for these so just do it if you wanna do it too djifhuiy

[drkmissionaries]

Firelight Calling Off the Abyss

Sidurgu Orl/Warrior of Light | Rated E | 6863 words

Incredibly self-indulgent fic, in which Wren shows Sid a gentleness he’s never known.

[drk-brain]

Burn Beautiful

Teen | 3.6k words

Named f!wol x Sidurgu Orl

for allintuta on ao3

It’s a different sort of poison altogether on her tongue when her lips meet his—the kind of poison that burns like whiskey, the kind that could leave a weaker man lying in the street begging, desperate for just one more taste. A taste he’d wondered about in half-formed thoughts as he fell asleep and as he woke, the dreamy, half-lucid moments before he’d grow conscious enough to silence them. Something forbidden, some half-discarded memory too mired in pain to revisit. Something he hadn’t even been sure he wanted.

But gods, had he wanted it after all.

The confrontation with Myste leaves Khaliun injured and Sidurgu reeling.

Excerpt:

Fray left behind little but a terrible, messy web of fury and regret. At least, that was what Sidurgu had told himself through gritted teeth, over and over in the hopeless dark, though even then he’d known that was only because it was easier than facing the grief head-on.

He thought he’d unraveled it, left it frozen in the ice somewhere deep in the Coerthan highlands. But here, holed up in a tent in a tucked-away corner of Rhalgr’s Reach, the twisting knot in his stomach warns him otherwise. 

At least the tent is bigger than he expected, the sleeping arrangements a sight more favorable than the anticipated blanket in the dirt. Only the best for guests of their savior, they’d said.

The sun had disappeared behind the ridges at least two bells ago. He’d always been atrocious at keeping track of time, but the sound of a sleeping Rielle’s soft, rhythmic breathing feels rather like a timepiece ticking away in his mind. 

He shuts his eyes and there is a helmet, in-tact unlike the last time he’d seen it, a specter who should not be there and yet is. 

Tick.

He opens them and traces the woven seams of the tent above his head, counting the passing seconds. 

Tick.

A wave of exhaustion passes over him and he shuts them again, but instead of finding sleep, he finds Khaliun, blood escaping from between plates of steel, and he feels the dirt beneath his fingers and knows he cannot fight—he’s still hurt, still tired, still useless. He can’t lose her, too. Not like this. 

>Link<

[redoxchai]

[DRK WOL Fang / Sidurgu]

Rielle would never know a moment of peace again

[headcanons-n-shit]

Because I can't get enough pining: FFXIV guys + Hien when they have to be apart from their SO for an extended period of time?

Im weak im weak im weak

Long distance (ff14 boys + Hien)

Thancred

It happens, more than he’d like. The Scions are few in number, they always have been, and there is always the call that pulls you in one direction, him in another. He takes it with good grace, really, always with a smile and a kiss on the forehead and never any promises.

He misses you, that much is obvious to anyone who knows him and/or travels with him. He misses you like a man misses a limb. He’s always looking towards the horizon, towards wherever he thinks you might be. He twists the linkshell between his fingers-- you’re often too far away, and he wouldn’t dare distract you when you might be doing something vital, something delicate, but. The temptation is always there. 

Urianger

The worst part is that he is so understanding about it all. The two of you have such vastly different skillsets, it is only logical that you go and he stay. You will go and shape the fates that he sees, he’ll tell you with a smile, like you don’t see the way his hands are folded so tight his knuckles turn white.

If he were to be honest, he would admit to you that he hates it. He hates it with a vehemence that he hates so few things, that you will go and he will stay. The cards provide little comfort, he is aware of just how quickly some fates can change, the future is a shapeless mass, unmolded clay, and while there may be inherent lines or plans drawn the final form of it will always be shrouded until the very moment it takes shape. And still he deals the cards for you every morning you spend away from him, divines your future every way he knows how, until it leads you back into his arms again.

G'raha

You’d think he’d handle this better at this point, honestly. He spent centuries without you, and he managed... fine. Sure, he got to watch you from afar and even shape some of the events, but this won’t be that different, right? What is a few months, to centuries spent longing in solitude?

And yet, he does not handle it very well at all. He’ll distract himself for an hour or so here or there, sunk in research or his own projects and quests, and then his mind will wander back to you and the ache of longing will return to his chest. His is the linkpearl that gets the most use-- if he can reach you, he will try, every night before bed. And even if he can’t, that won’t stop him from talking like he has, sometimes with the help of drink, to forget that the other side of the bed is empty and cold.

Estinien

It’s him who often leaves first, often in the pale light of the false dawn, leaving you with the empty impression of him in the bed next to you. It’s him who leaves, and it cleaves him in two every time. Sometimes he’ll leave you tokens, a broken arrowhead, a rough cord bracelet, one of his shirts. Something for you to remember him by while he’s gone. Something to give him an excuse to come back to you, to reclaim said token if nothing else. 

The bond between Azure Dragoons comforts him more than he’d like to admit. Him accompanied by Vrtra, and you by Midgardsormr, he can at least know that you yet live. Sometimes there is even the briefest flicker of... something, fourth-hand through the bond. Pain, most of the time, and joy, on occasion, though sometimes the longing in his chest feels redoubled and he wonders if you miss him as intensely as he misses you.

Aymeric

'Tis ultimately a matter of duty. He understands this. Respects it, even. That you wouldn’t ask that he abandon his duty for you, just as he wouldn’t ask that you abandon your duty for him. Besides, it’s not as though he doesn’t also have to go through this whole song and dance whenever Estinien visits and leaves-- at least you have the decency to wait for him to wake and give a proper goodbye, instead of escaping out the window before dawn.

He is very good at distracting himself. There is so much work to do, after all, he often times feels buried under it, and though you may cross his mind once or twice, whenever there is something that warrants it, ultimately he keeps you far from his thoughts lest the longing in his chest grow beyond his control. At least, until the evening, when all his work is done and the candles burn low, and he should be preparing for the morrow, really, or just going to sleep, but instead he procures a few sheets of good paper and writes you yet another letter he likely will never send.

Haurchefant

He does his best to give you a proper send-off, because of course he does. Complete with his arms around your waist, his lips on yours, the slow retreat that leaves trails of burning trails of warmth as he lets you go with as many of his blessings as you can carry. You are a couerl, he understands, or a wolf, or a bird of prey. You may deign yourself to being kept, for a time, but you will never be caged, and never should you be. 

And yet. He fantasizes, sometimes, guiltily, about finding a way to keep you by his side. Late at night, when he misses you beyond all reason, he wonders what it will take to make you stay by his side. To turn your indomitable focus from the world and worlds beyond to. Here. Camp Dragonhead, Ishgard, even just Eorzea, where you will never be more than a week’s ride or an Aetheryte travel away. He would never, of course. He would never deny you your duty, your nature. But sometimes, just sometimes, he turns a ring between his fingers and wonders.

Sidurgu

He always knew you weren’t destined to stay, but still. It’s hard on him and Rielle both. The nightmares always get worse for the few days after your leave. Rielle picks at her food. Sidurgu grows even more surly and silent to avoid snapping at his charge for what isn’t her fault.

But life goes on. Rielle has her conjury lessons. Sidurgu has what can almost be called a job, doing odd jobs and adventuring around Foundation. He keeps himself busy. He takes care of Rielle. But in the night, before he beds down to sleep, he puts out every candle and lets the fire burn down until it’s a barely-glowing bed of coals, folds his legs beneath him, and reaches. For the Abyss. For you. And it is painful, and a little scary, as it always is. But he can feel you, twined with Fray and with Myste, a solid pillar through the tumultuous sea that is the Abyss, and there is comfort to be found in that.

BONUS

Hien

It strikes him at the most senseless of times. In the middle of a meeting, and he will wonder, what would you say, were you here? Biting into something delicious, would you enjoy this? Walking down the street, the cherry blossoms in full bloom-- oh he would love to share this moment with you.

He takes to writing things down, long lists of moments he's wanted to share with you, to remember for the next time he sees you, complimented with dozens of little notes. He'll let you go through them to decide how you two are going to spend your short time together-- though sometimes you spend the whole time just going through the list, listening to him tell you the story behind each.