the-leyline-directory

[the-leyline-directory]

Guess who got through executive disfunction to do the password bs and is online again. Me. just me.]

[the-leyline-directory]

Did the Raid content. Bro I can't believe my Sil/Prishe comic is canon compliant. I'm losing my mind and hurting at the same time.

I'm alive! Working 6 days a week but I'm getting used to it (as its physical labor) but life is good!

Also. Patch day. Finally the Vana'diel raids. I'm not gonna be normal. Expect this \o/

[the-leyline-directory]

I'm alive! Working 6 days a week but I'm getting used to it (as its physical labor) but life is good!

Also. Patch day. Finally the Vana'diel raids. I'm not gonna be normal. Expect this \o/

[the-leyline-directory]

[the-leyline-directory]

Anyways, I think she looks cute. I hope she gets to punch Bakool Ja Ja and calls him a bit--

btw setting the ff11 raid in the best expansion area????? i win.

[the-leyline-directory]

"You're kinda weird. You know that right?" "Hah, yes. A dear friend would often say so."

-------------------

Hey the Vana'diel raids are going to kill me.

-> Short context, my ff14 WoL is literally my ff11 character; lore wrangled through the 11 alt timeline of 'failing to beat Promathia' - but the emptyness wiggled a little bit to be The flood of Darkness of the 13th \o/ happening at the same time as the Contrememoria on a different continent, Thus Silvaire [The Warrior of Crystal] becoming an archfiend voidsent who claims San d'Oria as his domain for millennia+ even though the beast doesn't remember why. ((There's literally a 60page document that explains it and more, but also is hyper condensed info/skimming over things cause its too much lore. Been developing this fool since 2003/2004)) -> he eventually goes from side villain foil of the WoL, to actually being part of the team (and earning a WoL title) and post Dawntrail he's just trying to recover some pieces of himself with genuine friendships and a support network.

but yeah. Love Silvaire. Love Prishe. I'm emotionally compromised so fucking much and it's not even november yet.

[the-leyline-directory]

I'm not giving u any context for what I'm doing (I'm being emotionally compromised about the Vana'diel raids and Silvaire of course what else would I be doing) But the chaos from my stages of work is so fucking funny.

[the-leyline-directory]

Hi guys, Jay here. I decided to make a commissions blog because I'm sure people are sick of seeing me reblog my commissions post. Because of my life situation, I'm struggling really really hard right now. I often have to choose between medicine and keeping my electric on at the moment.

I live with my sister and she can not work because she has 4 kids, most of which have behavioral issues that she constantly has to take to doctors appointments plus a 3 year old to take care of constantly.

Her husband is a deadbeat father who has only seen his kids 3 times in 6 months and only sends money when HE wants to which means we are often left struggling with our electric bill since I pay the mortgage and often cannot pay more than that as I am on disability. he only gives us 200, 300 if we're lucky, and it's never consistent. We are still in the process of trying to get child support set up.

So I figured I'd make a blog and pray that this blog will help me keep up with my bills.

As of right now, there is no set price because I'm desperate enough that i'll take anything lmao. so if you want to commission me, just pay what you want.

there are various examples of promos, backgrounds, and banners on this blog.

if you want to donate my cashapp is $storieswrittcn and my paypal is paypal.me/writteninthestcrs

I will be reblogging this over the course of a few days on my main blogs to get traction. Thank you for taking the time to read this and please a reblog of this post is much appreciated if nothing else.

[the-leyline-directory]

This is for me and like the 6 other YYH fans that will understand this meme! Brainstormed with @the-leyline-directory, we even named this guy and gave him a story - Kagami Kiri, the shapeshifting demon who just happens to be quite colorblind. He can make a perfect replica.... minus the coloration! He's very confused as to why no one seems to fall for his mimicry.... I wonder if anyone will have the heart to tell him!

Made an alternate coloration for the 3 YYH fans who will recognize where this comes from and why I couldn't just do one!

Used the Spiderman pointing meme as a base for obvious reasons. We're filing this under loose artistic break/shitpost as I rest and get back into tip top drawing shape!

[the-leyline-directory]

I love your expression work so much and adore Jade's story work!!!! \o/ Wonderful wonderful job as always my friend!!!]

Completed this at the request of @the-leyline-directory and @hlkproductions! I was asked to do 5, but I did all 10, because I can't do anything halfway, and it's been a while since I drew my girl! Here's my Warrior of Light, Jade Brightwind! She's a young girl whose adventure started when she and her merchant father were traveling outside of Thavnair to show her the ropes of the family business. Her training as a dancer, just like her mother, came in handy when their ship was attacked by bandits! It all spirals into WoL business from there, with her father anxiously in tow for much of ARR to make sure his only daughter didn't get into TOO much trouble! (She did, but she was fine, and he eventually returns to Thanvair to take care of the family business and trust in his daughter's abilities). In addition to traveling for the family business, Jade seeks to find a cure for her mother. When Dalamud fell, her mother was struck with an illness that prevented her from being able to walk (and therefore, dance). In admiration and love for her mother, once of the most famous dancers in Thanvair, Jade seeks out this cure, even if she has to make or learn it herself! As a result, she picks up conjuration, alchemy, and eventually sage work in her travels. She dreams of being able to dance with her mother again onstage, just like when she was little. Here's the template for those of you who want a go at this as well!

[the-leyline-directory]

[GOT SICK. IM ALIVE. ALSO NOW OFFICIALLY EMPLOYED!!]

Was dead for awhile there due to sick [that's just how I be, it happens now and again]

I was originally going to make this post 2 days ago, when I finished my interview and got actually hired, but was dead from anxiety and sick recovery I just passed out for awhile. But! All in all! I got job \o/ for privacy it's not important to know what, but it's 6 days a week with sundays off so you'll see me more active then! [thankfully it doesn't lap over my medication day of sunday!!]

Now I won't be stressed for Commissions being 'food on the table' they can be for just extra tidbits! :D

That's my update \o/ I hope you've all been well!! Gonna get into the new schedual habits, and then wrangle my relaxed writing time again once I've settled! Miss you all :D

[the-leyline-directory]

[I know I've done nothing but post Mun updates and not content sorry!]

\o/ Computer fixed!!!!! All is well!!

(Still problems with neigbours but that's par for the course) Doctor things gettin' sorted, sleep study to do, but my blood should be funtional soon enough jgdfisogjdfs!

[the-leyline-directory]

[General update for my quietness \o/] Things are a-okay! Nothing crazy just a busybody!

But remember how there was that 'the bathroom ceiling is leaking cause the apartment above us are literally flooding the bathroom by overflowing the sink + now curtain on the tub' ;; well it's still!!! NOT FIXED!!!!!!!!!!! IT'S NOW BEEN OVER 4 WEEKS, MAYBE 5. The people upstairs have stopped doing the flooding, it took most of that time of us calling the landlord at 10pm-4am going 'hey its happening again. Alot.' and the amount of times I've had to empty a bucket, I've just gotten used to a bucket in the middle of the floor :) - Ceiling is peppered with discoloration and probably mold; The entire thing has to be replaced [said by the landlord] but they CAN'T do that until the tenants upstairs get their floor replaced etc;; but ??? I have no idea when that's happening cause I think landlord is waiting on some legal process or something?????

UURRGG. Paired with that is the fact, my desktop [newly bought] has a faulty part problem so I have to bring it in [it's covered by warrenty its just time] and with no car to drive It's wrangling around scheduals \o/ That's the short of it! Beyond me cleaning and reorganizing household things. I'm around!! Just doin' my best as life does!

[the-leyline-directory]

PRISHE MY BELOVEDDDDDDDDDDDD

AND JUENO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BEFORE I EVEN COULD COMPARTMENTALIZE THE PICTURE AS THE SLIDE CAME UP I JUST SHOUTED 'ITS JEUNO' JFIDOGJDSFIOGJDFG RECOGNIZED THAT SHOT JUST ON. MEMORY. THE DOOR ON THE LEFT EVEN WAS A PLACE-

anyway i'm normal and im barking and barking and barking lots. Silvaire is going to have a very very bad time and I look so forward to seeing him having to deal with his home world again after so long- even if it's an alternate world version of it; a version where Prishe doesn't know him. Man it hurts great. Let's find this Warrior of Crystal some closure \o/

[the-leyline-directory]

Have an assortment of Velly doodles over the course of quarantine that emulate my moods. The upper most being ‘When I draw a whole commission’s linework on the wrong layer and have to redo them.’

[the-leyline-directory]

||-Lion's Share-|| (Silvaire x Krile Drabble)

[[[[A technically short drabble of a Silvaire and Krile interaction! It's set right before Shadowbrings \o/ ((They don't admit to feelings till Post Endwalker/Dawntrail start! It's a very long con)) So this is a good point of showing how they get along and interact at the mid point/before Silvaire deals with all his Shadowbringers(Emet) trauma+history confrontation --- sorry for the long preface! I'm a nervous nelly!]]]]

The quiet of Mor Dhona's dusk was always punctuated by those last few idle patrons coming too and fro below the balcony. It was never a nuisance, no, instead a common reminder of a living, breathing, world that was beyond the stone walls and wooden floorboards; A world where adventurers still braved the wilds, and the dangers that lurked within. A world where people - young and old alike - sought to better their lives through the honest work of their own hands.

A place that Silvaire often longed for - and a home he often missed when he lingered too long in the depths of memories.

It was a strange existence.

Twilight itself was peppered by those last few birdsong echoes that never seemed to die. As if there were some unseen nest somewhere within the cavities of old stonework - perhaps a pair of lovebirds continued to serenade each other in defiance of the oncoming night. The air was always cool with the distance from the lake - chilled winds pushed by the ghosts of war - that, even on a difficult day like this one, that temperate chill eased the burning hearts of many. Peppered rain had stopped a few hours ago, and the last traces of cloud cover now faded into the indigo sky, drifting wings of broken color.

Pages turned atop the table before him in the coming quiet, puddles had dried - soaked into the parched wood with greed - and now the gentle breeze left his mind calm and ready to continue the seemingly impossible task of studies; piles of tomes from his own collection brought to the Rising Stones in hopes to solve this unforeseen predicament of soulless husks-

Amber eyes flicked up below dark lashes when the sharp creak of unoiled hinges rang as an alarm to this broken isolation, snake slit pupils an empty black, now locked on the young woman who walked into the alcove (her expressive features crinkled with just as much disdain for the loud whine of the door as he), a faint dark hugging under bright blue as her gaze drifted across the way in her walk towards the railing - a tiredness clung to each part of the Lalafell as she came to rest against the cool granite with an obvious sigh of exhaustion.

For a few heartbeats, he said nothing. Stilled as the stone she leaned upon. Studying that peaceful quiet while the tippering of birdsong began to finally fade, watching how - even from the distance between them - the lord could feel the weight that burdened laxed shoulders.

“Any changes?”

The deep rumble of his voice snapped Krile from her solitary thoughts - a gentle gasp escaping with a clerical swear buried beneath decorum as she pushed herself from the lean - turning to the Elezen with bright eyes wide, yet settling with a visible lax of her posture as a gentle smile graced tired features. As if his presence held no threat to her weakened state.

“Unfortunately no, but they’ve gotten none worse either.” In the quiet din of the coming night Krile’s voice carried the obvious lilt of overburdened worry, tender fingers rising to brush aside a long strand of chestnut hair behind her ear - strands that had long come undone from the tail she’d pulled it into when the sun had first tasted the horizon. “Thancred seems a bit more pale than the others, but I hope it’s just my imagination…”

He hummed a note of acknowledgment, nodding in his farce of interest, before reaching for a teacup to drink; hiding behind the liquid in lieu of conversation as honeyed-amber glanced back to the pages he’d been skimming. Nothing here would undo the mystery of a hijacked soul, and neither would anything in this Eorzean language answer the question of aetherial rifts.

“Oh, you brewed tea?” Small footsteps neared and again he glanced towards her to watch the bobbing motion of those sewn cat-ears atop her hood. “What did you pick?”

Uninvited (No, he made no motion to stop her, or even hint at such discomfort) Krile moved to sit across from him, moving a stack of tomes to the side so she could better see him, tilting her head as she sometimes did while waiting for his answer.

He didn’t know. Taste had long dwindled in the mercy of a deadman’s tongue.

With a crooked brow and a half smile, he motioned towards the spare cup that had come with the set (He’d not expected company, yet he brought two) and gave his half truth.

“Feel free to indulge. I wasn’t quite attentive to the package.”

There came the slight furrow, her lips thinned as she studied his demeanor for a pause before beaming with that unabashed acceptance. No, from the glint of mischief across her stare it was a call of his bluff. A challenge to be toppled. A lie to catch.

Clinking porcelain paired with paper pages as they both went about their business. The woman’s mature voice offering comments here and there for the fact the temperature had long iced over of the tea he was drinking, the covered kettle itself being little more than lukewarm - though the warmth of her bright company seemed to ease the frigid winds that covered the balcony around him, enough so that as he tapped a forefinger to his temple he couldn’t help but glance anew to the Lalafell across from him as she settled into her seat with drink in hand-

Only for her expression to sour as she sputtered and coughed - careful and polite to place the teacup back to saucer despite the somewhat comical disgust.

“It’s so-!” Her lips were pinched as tight as her eyes, the locks of brown swaying in time with the reactionary shake of her head to and fro in abject denial. “-Bitter! By the gods Silvaire, how long did you let that steep?”

The Elezen’s palm slid down from his temple to rest his chin within it, tapping his pinky against his lip as he tried to deny the mirthful smile that pulled at it. He failed of course, as he often did whenever she caught him alone. “Too long it seems.”

“I’d think you a member of the forum with a dedication like that.” Small fingers pushed the offending cup from her side, obviously no longer interested in it as she sighed, silence once again draping between them as if the coming night.

He made no motion to break it this time, at least not at first, continuing his pretending attempt to study the novels he’d already memorized, content to let the calm lay in place of conversation as each page turned. Again, and again, and again.

Why hadn’t she left?

Turning his gaze from reading ink to reading her posture, he stared at his companion for a few seconds in study, glancing over the now more direct sight of her tired complexion - though this physical weariness was not the burden that the scholar seemed to hold. It was the way her own attention seemed find focus in the mirror of that discarded bitter poison.

As if answers to the unspoken lingered in her own image.

“I can find something else if you’d prefer.” A statement he’d not meant to speak. Compassion to ease the weight across her features.

Krile’s eyes darted to his own within a heartbeat, a flush rising across her features as the young woman forced a smile; pushing down the obvious debate that plagued her inner thoughts. “No, no it’s alright, I’m fine.”

She answered the unaired question without batting an eye. His lip rose with a halfhearted smile in turn; and once more spoke before instinct could bite his light-bound words.

“You don’t have to be.”

Why did he say such a thing?

Why did she look at him with that slight bafflement? Bright blues slowly caressing his features as he let her - allowed her to see the unspoken - that lingered feeling that made him swallow whatever words remained. Overstepping the boundaries of this limited companionship, that is what he was doing. Opening the door he doubted any would step through.

“…Ishgardian healers came by today. They’d come to offer their services for the Scions.” Her hands rested atop the oak, fingertips sliding across the cold porcelain. “Of course, I was thankful for their assistance, I can’t be the only one keeping our friend’s bodies intact - I’d be insane to think otherwise…”

“…And yet?”

Krile closed her eyes and inhaled a long slow breath, before exhaling sharply, now staring down to her own clasped grip as thumb ran along forefinger. “You might not understand this, but I can always tell when someone is looking down on me. Metaphorically of course - given my stature, nothing otherwise is expected.”

Her pause wasn’t long, but his silence was filled with patience, the tomes before him ignored in favor to watch those minute mannerisms as she continued;

“I’ve always had the disadvantage of being different, both from my blessing, and often in pair with not being seen as… ‘equal’ as it were. A child quite often in the eyes of others - and despite how many achievements I manage, how powerful I prove myself to be, I’ll never be completely free from the judgment of my heritage or what others believe they know of me.”

Silvaire spoke now with a quietness that rumbled the lower notes of his voice, as if speaking his question too loudly would scare her from an answer. “And these healers thought you lesser?”

A hesitant nod followed, and she sighed audibly before resting her head atop the table, her cheek atop crossed arms as she looked out to the painted horizon. “Perhaps I’m just overly tired. Or the way they all but pushed me from the room with that overly-sweet tone just… rubbed me the wrong way.” Frustration dripped across her words as thin brows furrowed with her frown.

It was an expression he didn’t often get to see on her face, and just as quickly as it had come, it was gone - replaced with another long inhale, exhale, and those bright blues were back to sitting straight and staring at him.

That tender smile easy on her lips.

“Sorry, sorry. I know you’re not the kind to listen to the woes of others.” There was a drift to her attention as those unruly strands were once more tucked away. “I’ll be alright. It’s something of a personal gripe.”

He hummed, glancing down to the pages under his palm (The words blank in black ink, the more interesting topic sat before him) he gave a moment of pause before amber rose again - then back down, as if to deny himself a thought. The lord’s tongue darted across his lip as he gave in to that clawing light and spoke;

“Actually I’m fairly good at listening.”

Curiosity danced across the sky of her eyes, that same tilt she’d once more used in their talks alone as Krile hummed almost a mirror of one of his own. “Really? That’s a trait I’ve not seen yet.”

Silvaire bowed his head as a soft laugh broke free, the silken black of his hair drifting across his shoulders as it pooled atop the novel - pulled back to curtain his eyes from the sunset as he straightened only enough to remain at an easy level for his shorter companion.

“There’s many things you’ve not seen of me.”

Now it was her turn to laugh - a bright sound, light and airy despite the exhaustion that plagued her - a musical lilt that felt keenly familiar within the memories locked in the dark.

Would he tempt to open that door again? Honesty for she who could read his lies?

Pulling his hair back across his shoulders as it had been, he inhaled (A false breath for a deadman) feeling the warmth of once stiff air fill his lungs before he spoke, a tone seemingly different than the short motes of conversation. A change that Krile caught with an academic’s attention;

“While I… personally, cannot relate to such a thing, I know someone who could.” Mannerisms long hidden attempted to surface, idle fingers running flat along knuckle, a sorrowful smile begging as the heart tightened in thought. “A young woman who, for her entire life, had been looked down on for her weaker stature, as well as the lacking weight of the ties of blood.”

In a world forgotten, those traits held as much importance as the kings who ruled them.

The wind drifted across the table to flitter pages across one another, and it was only with the patience prompting of his companion that he found the drive to continue.

“By all accounts, she could fell beasts far larger - and far more dangerous - than even those trained for a lifetime. Swift as a bow, with daggers sharper than any arrow.” That hollow lord didn’t realize his smile had escaped, nor the joy that painted his words as he spoke of this buried memory. “And, just as you, she was quick witted, kind, and very prone to playful conversation.”

The Lalafell leaned forward to rest atop interlaced fingers, cocking her head to the side with a bemused smirk. “And did you suffer that same judgment when you first met?”

Dark brows raised as pale features flushed, only for a moment before he nodded - not in shame, but in earnest openness. “Yes, I did, I thought her loud, brash, and somewhat invasive to my personal space. That she was immature, and the first few times we crossed paths I assumed she was out of her depth.”

“What changed?” The undertone of her words wasn’t lost on him. If she was similar to the woman he spoke of, did he feel the same towards her?

He answered. “I spent more time with her. Firstly only a few jobs here and there, but soon enough… my solitude turned into a group.” Those idle fingers moved to toy with the edge of that half-empty cup, similar to her own a few minutes ago. “I learned that beneath it all, behind that bravado, she was constantly comparing herself to what others thought she should be. That should she ever fail to measure up to the expectations - she’d failed her father, and all he sacrificed in taking her in. That no matter how much she did, she would never be enough.”

At this, any motion of brevity was swept with the cold, and Krile’s posture stiffened, hiding her frown behind those clasped fingers as she looked down to the table between them. Her voice was quiet as his had been once before, as if she feared the answer to be lost.

“How did she deal with it?”

“She bit back. Hard.” His reply earned those glassy blues to flick up to him, studying the faint smile on his lips as Silvaire tilted his head to better look at the young woman across from him. “She spoke up anytime those feelings threatened her, and stood up for herself whenever others dared to challenge her confidence. She learned that the only person who’d fault her, was herself.”

Silence once more fell between them. Thick as the books that towered around her, cold as the wind that drifted ink black hair over his pale features. Yet, it was not a harsh quiet. Serene and still, calm as if the mirrored edge of the lake that crested just out of view - a reality known, yet unseen.

“It sounds like I could learn something from her, I’d love to meet her someday…” The woman’s voice and smile faded slowly as her mirth met gentle realization as she watched his passive tells. “…Though, something tells me that wouldn’t be possible.”

“…No.” Short, but gentle. A sadness best left buried.

And Krile respected that, it didn’t take the power of an echo to tell the finer details of the pain that wrapped so cleanly across the Elezen’s person. Instead she asked for a kindness, to share the weight of this unspoken ghost. “What was her name?”

He smiled, a small thing that prompted just as quick a hand to wipe it away, dragged across the dark of his facial hair as the man cleared his throat to chain away the emotion that followed his reply. “Lion. Her name was Lion.”

Sunlight dance over the Lalafell’s features as her own expression beamed, bringing a welcome warmth to the coming dark. With a quick hand she motioned to the two cups that still sat between them and grabbed her own with a praising lilt.

“To Lion then-“ With a quick sip of that bitter tea Krile was once more reminded of the reason it stay untouched for so long. “Oh gods- I forgot-“

Whether the plight of sputtering was on purpose, Silvaire would never know, but nonetheless it did the job to steal a genuine laugh from him, sealing away any bridled fears that came from clawing memories - and with that same bravado, took his own half-filled cup and did the same.

“To Lion.”

Only once the young woman had recovered from her short ordeal (a mischievous grin on her lips as she studied him, as if victorious in some unspoken goal) did she stand from the table - night had now come to shower the balcony in starlight, and it was with a renewed sense of confidence that the Lalafell turned to look back to her companion.

“Well, that’s enough of a break for me. I’m going to go shoo that Chirurgeon out of my spot and get back to it. You’ll keep to your studies then?”

Silvaire motioned towards the sky. “Worry not, I’ll rest when I need.”

He could see how her echo caught his lie, yet she said nothing of it beyond that specific tilt she did every time she did. “You better. Else I’ll come back out here and drag you to the extra bed we have.”

The conversation ended not with a goodbye, but a nod, that little motion of acknowledgment as he turned that slitted gaze to the papers he didn’t want to read. The brash creak of that unoiled hinge gave way to earthly silence, and the hollow lord was once more alone.

He’d forgotten how cold it was outside.

[the-leyline-directory]

How they met; Krile + Silvaire

While Silvaire met the young woman known as Krile only in passing at the foray into tracking down the missing scions - as attentive as he was to skills of others, the man made it quite apparent that he had no interest in helping that situation, and left it to the Warrior of Light to handle. It wasn't until that same Warrior of Light requested his assistance with the plight of the Warring Triad that he was properly introduced - and strongarmed - into meeting the Lalafell on open terms.

She was clearly able to piece together his lies and half-truths, just as sure as she was aware of the guarded nature of their young companion Unukalhai; yet she unaware of how that the Elezen lord was actually quite similar to that displaced 13th resident. Through the events Krile kept her peace about picking into Silvaire's secrets, although not without a passing comment here and there at his expense; a type of pointedness that brought more questions to the minds of the Scions who'd - up to this point - held his lacking interest in their affairs as common sense. Krile was the first to properly point out the ease in which he would relent to the requests of the Warrior of Light alone; as if obligation demanded a polite hand. Silvaire for the most part found himself at odds; both in the Promethian curse of well controlled annoyance, as well as a genuine respect and admiration for the way the Lalafellan woman could handle him in almost all conversations. Krile and The Warrior of Light were the only two to properly notice the change in his demenor at the death of Regula; unknown to them, the history of a relationship of having raised the youth alongside Varis lingered in the history of this once-Garlean hound. A sorrow buried just as quickly behind the umbral dark of his voidsent affliction, brushed away as 'a waste of time'. After all is said and done, Krile and Silvaire leave these lengthy exchanges with the knowledge that the other is someone to keep an eye on - for good or bad, was yet to be seen.