#FFXIV Fanfic

[stars-and-clouds]

You know what makes Aymeric and Haurchefant special?

Despite having every reason to be cold, vengeful, mean and selfish people-being bastards, living in a house they weren't born to, growing up in an environment as hostile as Ishgard, having inherent beliefs different to everyone around them- they still chose to be kind.

I think it takes something away from them if we assume they were simply born with a kinder deposition.

Haurchefant was bullied by all of Ishgard, including his step mother, for being a Greystone. Aymeric was adopted and has really low self esteem because he probably grew up hearing how ill deserving he is of everything he got by being adopted into house Borel. Yet they both made a conscious choice to be better. They wanted to treat others the way they wanted to be treated themselves. They wanted to love and invite change when Ishgard taught hate and stagnation.

This is why the warrior of light would've failed in doing everything they did if it wasn't for Haurchefant and Aymeric. How many warriors of light have tried helping Ishgard before us? Over hundreds of years of war, this revolution can't have been the only one. Yet it was during our lifetime that the stars aligned perfectly to have Haurchefant aid us and Aymeric lead us into changing Ishgard for the better and bring about peace.

Without Haurchefant, we'd have ended up in prison and possibly executed (he saves us again by taking a blow meant for us) and we wouldn't have been let into Ishgard. And without Aymeric's trust over his best friend he wouldn't have let us go to Dravania and afterwards, invite the reality shattering truth about his ancestors' actions and usher Ishgard to peace and unity.

Everyone hails the Warrior of Light as the antithesis to bad with absolute power. That, if they're there, everything is solved. But without Haurchefants and Aymerics, the Warrior of Light would be nothing and would not be able to solve half the problems they have solved.

#ffxiv #heavensward #ishgard #haurchefant #aymeric #ff14 #Aymeric de Borel #Haurchefant Greystone #haurchefant my beloved #aymeric x wol #haurchefant x wol #haurchewol #estinien #Ffxiv analysis #Ffxiv fanfic #Writing

[capriccio-ffxiv]

NSFW version of this poll (asking about other, ahem, anatomy) available here

#final fantasy xiv #ffxiv miqo'te #hrothgar #ffxiv hrothgar #ffxiv #miqo'te #ffxiv roleplay #ffxiv fanfic #ffxiv lore #ffxiv headcanons

[necromeowncy]

NEW chapter for Hunger - a WoL x G'raha Tia vampire AU: 'That Unwanted Animal'

Rated: Explicit

A chapter in which a social recluse of a vampire & an excitable historian go to town.

Read here:

#here it is! Happy Halloween! 🎃🦇🥀 #g'raha tia #wolgraha #elezen #wol x g'raha tia #aedric vaillencourt #elezen wol #vampire AU #ffxiv fanfiction #ffxiv fanfic #Promises Kept #Hunger: A Vampire AU

[aethernoise]

2. bark

This prompt reminded me to return to a very old WIP idea that I will likely never finish. It may simply be the fic equivalent of writing an angry letter and never sending it - self-care, if anything, in face of grave injustices.

Set in 5.2, inspired by the opening quests of the Sorrows of Werlyt. CW for mild violence.

•

She wanted to spit in his face, but her mouth was dry from anger.

"I don't give a shit about your regrets," she hissed, "They mean nothing to me. They mean nothing to the millions of innocent lives you've taken and the millions more you have ruined forever."

Gaius' face remained stony in the dim light.

"You needn’t list my sins, I know them all full well," he said. "I would never attempt to request your forgiveness, only cooperation--”

"Here is my cooperation, Baelsar," she cut him off. "You are alive at this moment because I will it.”

The corner of his mouth twisted ruefully.

“You would kill an unarmed man in cold blood? It seems we are both a far cry from our former selves.”

“Shut up.” 

"Do it, then, if you must. Say the words, Defender of Eorzea. Prove you're not all bark and no bite. Even if you paint the Royal Palace red with my blood, it will do nothing to stop what is coming."

There was a loud crack and a flash. Gaius grunted and slumped onto the floor. The aether was so loud in Alyx’s ears, she didn’t hear Raubahn’s voice booming down the hall.

“Alyx!”

There was a small singe on the front of Gaius’ coat, leaking a faint smell of burned leather. She remained transfixed on the mark while his chest slowly rose and fell.

“Alyx! Seven hells, what have you done?”

“He’s fine,” she said flatly.

“I cannot say he didn’t have it coming,” Raubahn said with the hint of a chuckle, and Alyx almost gave herself neck strain with the speed she turned to look up at him.

“Nothing compared to what he deserves. He doesn’t even deserve to be here, walking free in our home--” Her fingers clenched, shoulders squared against trembling with anger. “Raubahn, how could you?”

“Do you think I want him here?” His voice was hushed, his enormous shadow tense, black eyes flashing with ferocity. “Do you truly think I welcomed him as a friend with open arms?!”

Alyx had the dim awareness that anyone sane would be completely terrified to be rounded upon by General Aldynn in such a manner, but another awareness reminded her that she could knock him on his arse too if she had to.  

“How am I supposed to know? You certainly looked chummy enough,” she spat, “Standing there next to him like a gods damned diplomat, like he wasn’t the one responsible fo--”

His giant, calloused hand seized her arm. The hold was not ungentle, but the sheer weight of him rooted her to the spot. 

“And what would you have me do?” His voice had lowered to a rumbling growl like an earthquake. “Execute him on sight? Drag him through the streets? He came to us in peace, and with information vital to our survival--”

“And you trusted him!” 

“We have no reason not to.”

“My gods, do you even hear yourself?!”

“We have no choice. I have no choice.” Alyx opened her mouth to disagree, but he continued: “I will not put our borders at further risk out of pride. I cannot afford to refuse help, even from the most hated of sources. If Ala Mhigo is to survive--if Eorzea is to survive--it cannot depend only on you forever, Alyx.”

Her heart hammered in her ears, but she had no rebuttal. The General went on:

"Someday, Rhalgr forbid, you might not be here. What if something were to happen to you? What would become of us? I know full well what you're capable of, but I know you cannot be everywhere at once."

A soft groan from below - Gaius was waking up. As soon as Raubahn's grip slackened enough, Alyx pulled her arm free. 

"Fine. Do what you will." Her voice was low, robbed of much of its former power. "But please, do not ask me to work with him."

Alyx didn't wait for confirmation. Instead she turned to leave before she could regret anything more.

#emmerwrites #alyx #ffxivwrite2023 #ffxiv fanfic #i am incredibly werlyt critical #so much so i basically cut it out of alyx's canon entirely #but this scene was needed #i had to address raubahn's behavior #and give him a chance to explain himself #originally i had grand plans for an entire fix-it-fic #but this is enough i think

[thevikingwoman]

Meryta struggles with her fears, feelings, and putting words on paper.

Fandom: FFXIV | Words: 1553 | Read on Ao3

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

Meryta Khatin x Tansui | after The Key to The Castle | romance Rating: Teen. Letter writing, longing, fear of death, fear of change, Alisaie friendship, dealing or not dealing with feelings

Letters and Longing, part 1

Meryta’s pen hovers over the parchment, frustration marring her face. The pen is frozen as she thinks, ink dripping on the page. She groans and puts the pen back in the inkwell, carefully mopping up the extra ink on the page. At least it didn’t ruin what she’d already written. The letter is a mess anyway, but she can’t fathom rewriting it, little as it is. It’s hard enough already. Not only are the words hard to come by, but the act of writing itself – the echo might grant her ability to speak and understand any language, but it doesn’t confer any scholarly skills, including letter writing.

After they returned from Dohn Mheg with the shell crown, a silent thanks to Soroban and the Kojin, she’d decided it was time to write a letter. Urianger had been pleased enough to supply the pen and parchment when she asked, his golden eyes kind. She is glad to see them. At any other time, her attention would have been drawn by how handsome he is, free of whatever caused him to hide before. But all she can think of is warm brown eyes and a dark beard, her thoughts returning to the Ruby Seas and to Tansui.

She wants to tell him – something.

They’ve been rushing, ever since they ran from Ran’jit in Lakeland. She’s not afraid of him, not the way she’s afraid of the Lightwarden, but to deal with Ran’jit she has to fight another Lightwarden.

She’d have to fight it anyway, or so the Exarch says. She’s afraid, and she’s not used to it. Not that she hasn’t been afraid before, but it’s been the good kind of fear. The fear that keeps on your toes, harnessed into a razor edge for the coming battle. Fear that makes you throw yourself into combat, teeth bared. No, now she’s filled with dread. She doesn’t want to fight the Lightwarden. She doesn’t want to see the sin eaters, the ones arisen from people lost. She doesn’t want to absorb the aether from the Warden, the Light overwhelming and itching beneath her skin.

The castle looms above the lake, glittering and beautiful and unreal. 

Soon enough, they’ll rush away to find the last two artifacts, and with the post moogle improbably spinning in humming circles in Lydha Lran. It probably gets on splendidly with the faeries. She decided to write and send a letter while she still could.

She worries – she worries she’ll not survive, or change – or unable to stop or go to the Source. And when she left Tansui last, she... Well, she doesn’t want him to think she forgot about him, or that she doesn’t want to come back. Or she wants to thank him. Or tell him…

She groans again.

If you do not see me again, it is not for lack of trying.

That doesn’t quite encompass all she wants to say, and it’s not quite the right way to say it. So far, all she’s said is that she is alive and well, for now, and they’re trying to end another Lightwarden. She should perhaps tell that she’s with her friends, that they are hale and well – but it’s too complicated, too long winded, and besides he’s met neither Urianger nor Thancred. Yet it’s strange not to mention them.

I’m with more of the scions, my friends. I do wish to visit again, but if I don’t --

She tries again, mulling over the sentences in her mind. How does one spell scion anyway? If the Lightwarden doesn’t defeat her and the Light doesn’t – change her – will Ran’jit catch up with them? Will the faeries trap them here forever, chasing their artifacts? She wants to explain and to write a proper letter – but it’s a jumbled mess along with her thoughts.

“Hello, Meryta.” Alisaie, pulling out a stool and sitting across from her. “I thought you had already left.”

“I wanted to write this letter, but – words are eluding me.”

“A letter? For whom?”

“It’s not important.”

“It’s important enough that you’ve not yet left.”

Alisaie leans over, attempting to read it upside down. Meryta wants to cover it up, but it’s messy enough and she’s unsure if the ink is dry and she won’t ruin it more. She’s certain Alisaie has beautiful handwriting, like her brother.

“Tansui? The pirate?”

The embarrassment over her handwriting is not the only reason she wants to hide it.

“He’s a friend.” She feels like she should add something, but afraid it will come out defensively.

“Sure,” Alisaie says, interrupting her thoughts. “A friend happy to extort money from us, I guess.” She narrows her eyes. “But mayhap that’s not quite what you think of.”

She fights the instinct to hide, she can’t truly explain what he is, not fully. It’s not the times they’ve fucked, but the way he held her, last time she was there. How that makes her want to go to him again. How, despite her happiness to see her friends again, and her sympathy for the plight of the people here, all she wants is to rest in his arms again.

“I’ve visited and I –“ she stops, and freezes. Another thing she doesn’t want is to worry Alisaie, how her need to write is bound up with her fear that she’ll not be successful in the next fight. That whatever they do will not work, that the Light may consume her. She thinks of the other things she wants to tell him too, words of both affection and practicality stuck in her head.

“Feo Ul said he’d get the letters to the Source somehow,” she explains, backing up. “I want to tell him – at least to be aware of Black Rose and of the things Urianger saw in his vision. Be I’m not used to writing letters, and –“

Alisaie’s eyes soften, any judgement leaving them. “Mayhap I can help?”

She has never found it difficult to talk to Alisaie, and she shouldn’t find it so now. She’s not embarrassed, she’s perhaps just reluctant to both name her fears to those who depend on her, and to admit she ran from them. Or that – it would be easier to share if she understood her thoughts herself. She longs for the simplicity in visiting Tansu and the Confederacy, and that peace feels private.

“I would be glad.”

With her friend’s help she manages to compose something sensible, and not too long. Simply asking him, and the Confederacy, to be careful with any run-ins with Garleans and their cargo. She also tells a little of what has come to pass for her here on the First. She thinks he might find the faeries amusing, as long as he’s not on the receiving end of their shenanigans. A kinship of making people pay for their trespasses, perhaps.

“I miss him,” she blurs out at the end, wanting to add that too, needing to voice it despite her confusion. Her mind circles back to the notion that should she die or be unable to travel, would he know? That he should know he’s not forgotten, but that he means… something to her.

“You should tell,” Alisaie says. “I am not sure I’d name the Confederacy a steadfast ally, but – regrets can come too soon.” There’s something painful in the other woman’s eyes, the raw hurt unhidden.

“I’m sorry,” Meryta says. “If we’d been faster, if we’d – “

“She did what she had to do. It’s no need – it’s over now.” Alisaie shakes her head. “Please. I just – see to your letter. Mayhap I shall take my leave and trust you can write the rest without out my help. I surmise you’d rather it be so. And I think I’ve left my dear brother alone with the fairies a tad longer than he finds amusing.”

“Thank you, Alisaie.”

“Of course, my friend. Good luck with the artifacts. We will keep the Eulmorians busy.”

Meryta watches Alisaie leave, confident steps, her rapier ever ready. Meryta has no doubt about hers, and Alphinaud’s, capabilities. They will keep their pursuers at bay.

She does manage the rest of the letter, trying to shape her feelings into words, her mind occupied with the memory of brown eyes and calloused hands, and marks sucked into her flesh.

Tansui, I do not know if I will win this fight. I do not know if it will change me. I miss you. I wish to see you again. I hope to see you again if can. If I cannot know that I tried.

I would like to eat breakfast with you again. I long for it.

Satisfied, she seals the letter. At least he will know she did not abandon him, should her end come. The risk is always there, but somehow here, it feels closer than ever. Meryta shakes her head, and looks at the flowers in the blinding light. Her thoughts spin in circles.

Feo Ul and the post moogle is more than happy to accept her letter, exorbitant fee agreed on. One less thing to regret.

She doesn’t want to die. The castle on its high peak, pretty and bright. Most of all, she doesn’t want to absorb the Light of a second Lightwarden, a third, a fourth – how many are there?

She has no choice but to set out.

#ffxiv #ffxiv fanfic #ff14 fanfic #final fantasy 14 #wol x tansui #she's trying! #I wanted to write of her fear too #this is really not a good time for her #everything is so pretty and she's so worried #meryta x tansui #woltansui #writing about meryta #meryta khatin #viking writes #published 2/11/2024

[buoyfriend]

The WoL Catches A Cold *a-choo* - feat. The Ishgard Elf Husbands, G'raha Tia, Ardbert, Hien & Zenos

@eidechsejaspis asked:

Hello again:)

As new season of coughs ans sneezes approaches I have a question of how would Scions (choose any you like), Aymeric and Zenos (where would we go without him?) react on WoL catching serious cold? Time period is at your liking from Heavenward to adventures in Garlemald:)

Thank you in advance:)

It is sniffles season again! Thank you for asking, this was a really fun one to get back into HC writing with!

Aymeric

In moments you think he's not watching, he is. He adores the way you wince when reading an unpleasant part of a book, how you fidget in Alliance meetings, even the little whistle of your snore. Aymeric notices your first sneeze. It's hard to get allergies in Coerthas, and he recognizes the hacking from your lungs a few days later. This comes for everyone sooner or later, and politely asks you to quarantine yourself for a few days.

He isn't one to miss work to care for a sick partner or spouse but has a very attentive nurse stationed nearby

He has given his full itinerary for the next several days so he can be alerted as soon as you wake up from a much needed, multi-day sleep

Aymeric wouldn't argue that he knows cooking well, but he does make a point to assist in the kitchen after work to make sure that you have soup recommended by the best chirugeon available

He will dodge kisses from you for days to avoid becoming sick himself, but it's too late anyways

When Aymeric finds himself bedridden for a few days, he decides that it was worthwhile to give you that forehead kiss as you slept

Estinien

Estinien is familiar with sickness. Long campaigns through the newly snowy Coerthas as a young knight taught him much of seasonal illnesses. He's seen many a friend drink their weight in bitter root soups, gnaw on wild herbs, and the like to push through it until they can get home. He's seen you sick before. Still, he has some lingering anxiety. You looked far worse than a little aetheryte sickness. He's lost much and more, the thought nags at him that more concern might be warranted.

Estinien has his hands full with travel these days and assures you that he will indeed make it to tea with Vritra tomorrow afternoon

He does not make it to tea with Vritra

Estinien deftly slips into the bedroom but there was no need, you had been out cold for hours by then

He would like to keep his friend from waiting, but not until he's sure that your breathing is steady and your temperature not too high

What a sight to see! Had you been awake, you might have heard Estinien's dress shoes pacing along the floor, his hand nearly to his linkpearl while paralyzed by indecision on whether to cancel or not

He cautiously leaves a glass of water and your linkpearl on the bedside table, just in case, though he may never admit that it was he who placed both there

When he does return home, perhaps an hour earlier than expected, he denies all concern as he settles into bed beside you

Haurchefant

While he's not a sadist, Haurchefant absolutely loves the sight of you ill. You're always off somewhere, but for this small bubble of time, you're here. You're sipping hot chocolate and letting him read poetry to you rather than mailing it off to some distant locale. He can watch your tired face grin and sigh rather than imagining it alone from Camp Dragonhead.

His favorite thing to make for you, of course. Hot chocolate, every day you're sick. No matter how hard it is to get chocolate in Coerthas, no matter how many tall tales he must tell to provision it, you wake up to hot chocolate beside your bed every morning.

"You don't need caffeine, anyways, you need something calming and a smile."

He knows he'll get sick if he sleeps next to you every night, but he's forewarned Camp Dragonhead. Emmanellain can hold his seat for a fortnight, it could be good practice for him.

Haurchefant watches you sleep, sliding his hand under the covers to grasp yours. For once, the cuts and bruises all over you are starting to heal. Days off the road, finally given rest. He wishes you both had more days like this.

G'raha Tia

Just as your new adventures together have begun, you fail to keep up. You run a little slower, stopping after a few paces to lean into a cough, heavy sneezes punctuating the blows you attempt to land on monsters. G'raha is quick to notice but slow to bring it up.

He frets, wringing his hands beside you as you ready yourself for the day, struggling to put on your clothes. As you sigh in failure, dropping yourself onto the bed, G'raha can't help himself.

"You can admit you're sick. I know you've been on the road for a long time. Even with the help of your friends, the path you walk is a lonely one. But you're not alone this time. Let yourself rest and let me take care of the other things that come along?"

G'raha fields the many requests sent your way, trying his best to fulfill them, wondering how you do it all at full health.

In quieter moments, he finds his way to The Last Stand to get your favorite dinner, absolutely purring as he watches your sleepy smile. Alas, your sense of smell is back! You knew exactly what he'd brought you as soon as he opened the bag!

He can't help but laugh to himself as you find yourself exhausted from the walk from your bed to the dining table, cracking jokes about his hero losing the greatest battle thus far.

G'raha's excitement knows no bounds when you announce that you're well enough to continue your travels together. The ruddy cheeks, the soft ear wiggle. No sickness can stop his hero for long.

Ardbert

(Assuming Ardbert is no longer a ghost!)

Ardbert is restless. He hasn't seen an open field, a forest, an ocean in days. He wonders if it's unsupportive to ask if you'd mind if he pops out for a fishing trip tomorrow. Perhaps if you're a little better in the morning?

He's not heartless, he left some hot tea beside your bed and made sure your medicines were in reach.

Though he did have some guilt by the third hour of his fishing adventure. The pangs of guilt grew until an idea sprouted from them.

He racked his mind as he navigated the markets. He had enough fish, but the right peppers...which peppers were correct. Tomatoes. Cream. Potatoes. Something was missing, some spice.

Ardbert has made a mess of things. He has put out the kitchen fire, somehow there are no more clean pots and pans. Yet, the soup is complete! It was his mother's recipe, it always had him right as rain after a day or so.

Though you tried your best to hold a straight face, the soup was...I don't know if it's fair to call it a soup. He looks absolutely crushed.

You fall asleep while he strokes your hair, his head pressed against yours as he told you stories. About Kholusia, fishing for cod with his father, his mother's miracle soup. He asks what they made where you're from, but it's too late. You've already drifted off, dreaming about magic fish.

Oddly enough, from a couple of sips of Ardbert's attempted soup, you feel some measure better. He, on the other hand, has the same horrible wheezing cough you had a day before.

Hien

Hien is not the biggest believer in staying bedridden in a sealed room while sick. He frowns, hating to see you suffer, but a thought springs to mind as he twirls your lank, sweaty hair between his fingers.

The clean air of the Azim Steppe is just as promised. During the day, he haggles in the markets for the best Dzo to make stews, the best leaves to make tea. All while you watch the clouds pass from the hammock outside of your yurt.

It's hard to leave the hammock, not only for the comfort. Where else could you see so many stars? Hien points to his favorites, the brightest, the funniest shapes some constellations make.

There wasn't much for entertainment, but watching Hien in the distance sparring with friends was a welcome sight.

After a few days, he encourages you to come with him. On a little walk, at least. Another day, just a little spar. How do you know you're well if you don't test your skills?

The break from all the noise, the responsibilities, becomes intoxicating to you after some time. Hien never has to rush to some meeting, you never need to leave to be flung at a new problem.

You've been better for a week now, finding yourself testing your sharpness with Hien and his friends every morning. Though you may have been hesitant to travel while sick, the time spent together was precious. Perhaps next time you won't have to be sick to convince yourself to take a break.

Zenos

He's seen you weakened before, brought to your knees by your own frailty. It disappoints him and yet, he's fascinated by it in a way he doesn't quite understand. How could someone so pitiful occupy every hour of his day?

Zenos doesn't agree with the chirugeon, you could power through this with sheer force of will and merely shrugs as the medicines are set on the table.

This could not be what ends the object of his obsession, his first friend. He regularly checks that you're still breathing. He leans in too close to hear that your heart is still beating, only to be rewarded by a wheezing cough into his hair.

His size is quite the advantage, it's not a challenge for him to carry you from place to place. He leans low to the ground, scooping you up as the sight of you exhausted from standing up only leaves him with disgust.

Still, when you fall asleep each night, he leans his head to your chest. Your heart still beats, your skin glittering with sweat. He knew he would see you like this on another day, performing the great feats that brought him to you in the first place. Though he never understood your reasons, he knew you'd be back to fighting the mesmerizing fights that led the two of you here. To share a bed, a home, a life.

#ffxiv fic #ffxiv writing #ffxiv fanfiction #ffxiv fanfic #zenos x wol #zenoswol #ffxiv zenos #zenos yae galvus #hien headcanon #ffxiv hien #hien x wol #ardbert fanfic #ffxiv ardbert #ardbert x wol #graha tia #g'raha tia #g'raha/wol #grahawol #graha x wol #haurchefant x reader #wol x haurchefant #haurchefant de fortemps #ffxiv haurchefant #haurchefant greystone #haurchefant x wol #estinien x wol #estinien wyrmblood #estinien x reader #ffxiv estinien #estinien varlineau

[lilbittymonster]

Chapters: 2/2 Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Aymeric de Borel & Estinien Wyrmblood, Warrior of Light & Estinien Wyrmblood Characters: Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Aymeric de Borel, Estinien Wyrmblood, Alphinaud Leveilleur, Haurchefant Greystone, Lucia goe Junius, Thancred Waters, Y'shtola Rhul, Yda Hext, Papalymo Totolymo, Heustienne de Vimaroix Additional Tags: Named Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Au Ra Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Dragoon Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Gratuitous use of cutscene dialogue, Post-Final Fantasy XIV: A Realm Reborn Patches 2.0 - 2.5 Series: Part 3 of Of Blades and Blood Summary:

“You know I am not given to empty praise–I named her my equal, and I meant it as such. Though she has yet to see battle with a fully grown dragon, I have no doubts in her capabilities. I….look forward to fighting alongside her, rather than against.”

 Sometimes you have to swallow your pride and play nice with the person who tried to kill you that one time six months ago.

#ffxiv #ff14 #final fantasy xiv #final fantasy 14 #ffxiv fanfic #ffxiv fanfiction #a realm reborn #ARR patches #patch 2.5 spoilers #my writing #kitali moonblade #aymeric #aymeric de borel #estinien #estinien wyrmblood #haurchefant greystone #lucia goe junius #alphinaud leveilleur #thancred waters #y'shtola rhul #yda hext #papalymo totolymo #heustienne de vimaroix #finally fucking finished the damn combat segment lmao #so glad i will have free real estate for HW and onwards with dialogue

[watanabes-cum-dump]

Hellbound: A Final Fantasy 14 AU

"Hellbound are we that sacrifice for what we love"

The sins of the Holy See run deep; and in the end repentance alone cannot save the Jewel of Coerthas from her darkest hour. Thusly, his holiness Archbishop Haldrath IV, formerly Father Aymeric de Borel, has enlisted the help of the Warrior of Light to aid Ishgard in its plight. The shadows cast by Eorzea's guiding star are deep and dark- but she will prevail like before, no Bloody Banquet will come between her and glory. For the Fury decrees that Ishgard shall be built upon the sin of those who rule it; and the blood of the innocent that believe.

Hellbound is a Final Fantasy XIV AU that is a dark alternate version of Heavensward in which Aymeric is archbishop, Haurchefant is a newly appointed knight of the Heavensward, and the Warrior of Light has many secrets to hide.

All art is by yours truly~

#ffxiv #ffxiv au #ffxiv fanfic #aymeric de borel #haurchefant greystone #haurchefant de fortemps #ffxiv fanart #ishgard #Hellbound AU #wol #haurchefant x wol #wol elysia vespera

[alfonce-astrida]

On Hope and Family

A character study of Artoirel during Heavensward

If you had told Artoirel de Fortemps that one day the Warrior of Light would be his sibling, one of his closest most trusted companions he would have hesitated to believe you.

It's not that he didn't believe Haurchefant when Fortemps Manor received his first letter all but begging for you to be allowed access to Ishgard, when he'd called you "hope incarnate". Its just that, well, Haurchefant always has been a touch dramatic, has always worn his heart so openly, always given it so freely. A trait that Artoirel has always been somewhat envious of, if he was being honest with himself.

And then you arrived and you were... not what Artoirel was expecting. He remembered briefly reading of the events that led to your arrival, being publicly accused of murder, running for your life, how many allies lost. Perhaps that explained the subtle hollowness to your eyes, the way you seemed to only really half smile, the way you clung to Haurchefant's side. For a god slayer you looked... tired.

This is part of why, Artoirel tells himself, he is so displeased at being forced to work alongside you. That and Artoirel is a knight of Ishgard, does his father really think him incapable of aiding the efforts at Falcon's Nest alone? But he did see the way your eyes seemed to light up at being given a role, a purpose, even one so temporary. So he didn't complain. Much.

Whilst in Falcon's Nest, the two of you find a knight injured by heretics. He feels a pang of guilt sending you off on the dangerous task of finding the heretics while he collects reinforcements, but you do not hesitate. You have always been happy doing the hard tasks, the dangerous ones, if you do them alone then no one else can get hurt. Artoirel watches you go and perhaps he is beginning to understand why Haurchefant called you hope.

He finds you later, having single handedly fought through the heretics, though their leader, Lady Iceheart escaped. You offer him a smile, and he finds himself smiling back.

Artoirel learns later of your efforts to rescue his brother from his own foolishness. Though of course, people were generally more focused on the new primal, he did not miss Honoroit's story of how you threw yourself into enemy territory alone to protect Emmanellain. Casually, he mentions this thought to Haurchefant who just smiles and nods as he looks over at you from across the room.

Unfortunately, this moment of peace is quickly broken by the news of Alphinaud and Tataru's arrest. The events that unfolded were nothing more than contained chaos, but Artoirel saw once more how willing you are to protect others, how selfless you are, and how you were, above all else, kind. So very kind. Haurchefant was of course there to celebrate your victory.

It is now that Artoirel begins to open himself to you. You care so deeply, perhaps not at openly as Haurchefant, but just as honestly. In the time you spend in Ishgard, staying in the Fortemps Manor, you slowly but surely begin to feel like family. He sees how you laugh and joke with Emmanellain, how you always make sure Honoroit knows he is seen, how tightly you hug Haurchefant after you haven't seen him in a while. How you spend time with him, talking softly, listening genuinely, how you don't care for the expectations of Isghard high society, how you don't judge that he does. And when you leave for Dravania with Estinien and Alphinaud, on some mission you cannot tell him of, Artoirel finds himself praying to the Fury for your safe return.

You come home as often as duty permits. Staying for a few days after reaching a brick wall (or barrier) before being whisked away to Ul’dah. And then you're home again only briefly before you make the journey to slay Nidhogg. Strange, when did Artoirel start to call Fortemps Manor your home? He worries for you each time you are gone, and is so very relieved when you return safely, but he trusts your skill. He knows you will be fine.

When you leave to fight Nidhogg it's different. You leave with Estinien alone. On a task none know if you will survive. Though Artoirel worries for you greatly, Haurchefant and Alphinaud are beside themselves. In your absence, Artoirel offers what comfort he can, words of praise to your skill, your past triumphs, you have slain gods so what is a dragon? You and Estinien are among the greatest warriors of our age. You will make it, you will win and you will be fine. Safe. Artoirel does his hardest to believe in the words he says.

And then the Dravanians attack. If your duel with the Heavens' Ward had been contained chaos, well then your return to Ishgard was pure unadulterated chaos. Artoirel later learns that you returned to the city with Lady Iceheart in tow, how you ran into Haurchefant on the way, and how the lady turned the invaders away. She spoke of a lie. A lie the very city of Ishgard had been built upon. It would have been too much to believe if any but you had spoke it. You would not say something like this if it had any risk of being wrong. He trusts you. And so does Ser Aymeric.

It is this trust, and the desire to do good, that leads Ser Aymeric to be arrested. That leads you and your allies to fight your way through the vault to rescue him, to stop the ArchBishop.

Artoirel is not there when Haurchefant gives himself for you. When he lies dying in Ser Aymeric's arms. When he asks to see you smile one last time. When his bright light flickers and goes out.

Artoirel is there though when you return to the manor after, your voice shaking, tears in your eyes, trying so hard to be strong. In the quiet moments in between you sit close to one another. You, Artoirel, Emmanellain, Honoroit, you all sit in silence pressed against each other as tears fall and bodies shake with echoing sobs. There are no words to be said. No words of comfort to give. You all know what you have lost.

He watches you leave the next morning, a terrible grief and a terrible rage within your eyes. He understands. He feels it too. He just prays that you do not lose yourself to it. That you come home safe. Artoirel does not know if he could take the loss of another sibling.

When you leave once more, to stop the ArchBishop, to take revenge upon Ser Zephirin, Artoirel watches you go. He watches long after the Excelsior has disappeared into the clouded sky. He prays once more.

"Please let them come home. Please."

You do. Thank the fury, you do. But Estinien does not return with you.

Still though, there is hope. You are safe and the moment you are alone with Artoirel he pulls you into the first hug he has ever given you. You wrap your arms around him in return. The both of you holding each other tightly, there is no need for either of you to speak. You both understand. He may not ask you in as many words to be your sibling, but you both know it to be true. You have both loved and lost, you would both do anything to protect that which you love. You are family.

You stand together with the Fortemps, a signet ring heavy on your finger, as Ishgard rejoins the Eorzean Alliance. As Ser Aymeric smiles at you, Artoirel's mind returns to the words Haurchefant once wrote.

"Hope Incarnate."

Artoirel turns his face to the sky allowing himself a small smile. "You were right, Haurchefant. You would be proud."

#artoirel de fortemps #haurchefant de fortemps #fortemps #haurchefant #aymeric #ffxiv #ffxiv headcanons #ffxiv wol #ffxiv fanfiction #ffxiv fic #ff14 #ff14 headcanon #ff14 fanfic #ffxiv fanfic #heavensward #aymeric de borel

[stars-and-clouds]

All of Coerthas Map (pre-calamity)

I was using this as a reference in my fanfic for Estinien’s backstory and thought it might help others too!

The picture is from this blog page. It is not mine. The blog also has some 1.0 information that might be useful for some writers.

Edit:

Map is originally by: @chrysalisthoughts

#ffxiv #writing aid #ffxiv lore #ffxiv writing aid #estinien #ferndale #aymeric #haurchefant #ffxiv fanfiction #ffxiv fanfic #aymeric x wol #estinien x wol #haurchefant x wol #ishgard #ishgard official #heavensward #ffxiv 1.0 #coerthas #ffxiv fic

[ubejamjar]

This in response to @uldahstreetrat ‘s ‘what would be your wol/oc's perfect date?’ post. I wrote a whole thing and I didn’t want to just throw it under a reblog (I’ll still reblog the post, don’t you worry!)

Caution: This vignette is 100% indulgent, day-dreamy, wolmeric, marshmallow fluff. It’s so sweet it makes my teeth hurt.

[Original Post Here]

The Perfect Date

Aymeric and Ajisai would meet for tea and sweets at the café hidden in an alleyway. It’s a small building; its windows open up to the Sea of Clouds and it’s like being lost in the sky. It is perfect because the owner, Nata’li, knows of the Warrior of Light and the Lord Commander, but he has never seen their faces, so here, they are simply Aymeric and Ajisai.

They’ll sit at a little table by the window, a cracked blue cup filled with Halone Gerbera at its center. The flowers’ soft, white petals open wide to cheery, yellow centers that beam at them like old friends. Aymeric will tell her the story of how they came to be known as the ‘Fury’s favored flower’ as he pulls out a chair for her. He’ll laugh when she pulls out his chair with theatrical flair.

Nata'li will bring them a pot of tea; it’s a Far Eastern blend—a black tea, slightly smoky, with a citrusy edge. Ajisai likes it best with steamed milk and a bit of vanilla; Aymeric will add a few drops of birch syrup. They’ll take their tea with lavender shortbreads, sweet crumbs clinging to their fingers as they chat about nothing and everything all at once.

When their teacups are emptied and the shortbreads are long gone, they’ll linger as if ignoring time will preserve this dream in amber. They’ll trade little pieces of themselves in stories and laughter until Nata’li shoos them out.

“I open in the morning,” the Miqo'te will say with exasperated affection, “Go, be in love elsewhere and tomorrow I welcome you back, hm?”

But they won’t want the night to end, so they’ll stretch it out a bit longer, take the long way back to Ajisai’s little house. When they get there, she’ll open the door and ask if he’d like to come in for a moment, just to warm up before heading home. Aymeric will, because he always does, and they both know he’ll stay the night.

Ajisai’s home always smells of cinnamon sticks and evergreen, like a kitchen at Starlight. Books, notes, and sketches crowd every available surface, a trail of daydreams and research captured in charcoal and ink. They’ll both drink wine—too much wine.

Aymeric will carefully move her papers and books out of harm’s way. Then, he’ll ask her to dance, insistent even when she complains she doesn’t know how. When her eyes find his, gold lost in blue, he smiles, and she crumbles.

So they dance.

It’ll start with a simple waltz, a gentle, fairytale thing that sways to a song they feel rather than hear. It’ll end with the two of them holding each other close, spinning, and giggling until they’re too dizzy to keep going.

Then they’ll lay on the plush rug in her living room, fingers intertwined. Dreams will be traded between them like secrets—glimpses of a future they’re not sure belongs to them. It’s full of things like sleepy mornings wrapped in each other’s arms, handholding in the sunshine without fear of reproach, and the comfort of knowing their hearts’ home.

It’s so wonderful, so tangible they’ll start to think of how they could make it so. However, before either of them will find an idea, they’ll drift into spiced wine sleep, warm and content in a present that is already theirs.

#I hope you like it! #i had fun writing this #no gpose unfortunately because my pc has gone to the farm upstate #writingjar #Ajisai x Aymeric #ajisaijar #ffxiv fanfic #ffxiv fic #wolmeric #aymeric #ser aymeric #Aymeric de Borel #aymeric x wol

[necromeowncy]

"𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘉𝘪𝘵𝘦" 🥀

Working on my Vampire AU fic every day for the past few weeks and I need to scream about these brainworms.

#I don't blame you Ser Vaillencourt I'd wanna bite him too #Vampire AU #AedRaha #ffxiv fanfiction #wolgraha #wol x g'raha tia #g'raha tia #elezen #aedric vaillencourt #my poses #gpose #elezen wol #ffxiv fanfic

[teawithaphd]

Hiya, I’m looking for some ffxiv moots!

I’m a humble writer who started writing ffxiv fics on AO3, but I wanted to expand my horizons so I made myself a blog here, where I can post my writings, post some silly headcanons, and show off my wols sometimes 🥺👉👈

I’d love to make some mutuals on here, so like/reblog and drop in the comments a cool pic of your wols/ocs with a fun fact about them! I’ll be sure to follow you back! uwu

#your wols hand them over #ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #ffxiv fanfic #ffxiv fanfiction #ffxiv writing

[ferrocyan]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Lue-Reeq/Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV) Characters: Lue-Reeq (Final Fantasy XIV), Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Renda-Rae | Andreia Additional Tags: POV Alternating, Canon Divergence Series: Part 3 of lighthunter Summary:

The hunt is on. Out of time and out of compassion, the hunters set their sights on the Virtue--and find each other in the line of fire. (A rewrite of the level 76 DPS role quest "The Hunter's Legacy")

#ffxiv #ffxiv fanfic #my writing #wolreeq #lue-reeq #tart the wol

[thevikingwoman]

Tansui is looking for some peace to think on the letters Meryta sends him from the First, but is interrupted by Rasho who offers friendly companionship and asks too many questions. Companion to Letters and Longing, but can be read alone

Fandom: FFXIV | Words: 1651 | Read on Ao3

Rasho & Tansui | mid-Shadowbringers | friendship Rating: Teen. Pining, unresolved feelings, friendship, alcohol, drunkenness

Sake and Truths

Tansui climbs his way up the stairs to the outpost, abandoned as it is, they do not post guards here at most times. But the view is nice, and the grass is soft and no one tends to come here unless sent by the Captain. It’s a good place to think.

He drops himself into the grass, round bottle beside him, and takes out the letters from where he’s tucked them in his hakama. He did not bother with a cup. He reads. Meryta is impossibly far away, facing horrors he cannot imagine. Something aches in his chest with it. A familiar feeling, along with others he’d rather not think about.

He drinks, the rich taste coating his tongue, a burn down his throat. Takes out pen and parchment, but he does not write, electing to pick up her letters again. Only a few, but the latest one is longer, the writing more fluid. Perhaps she has never written much before, but she does now.

The bottle of sake goes to his lips again, rich and too fine to be drunk like this, dripping down his chin to wipe off, but he does not know what to do with his latest realization, the feelings that only grow when he thinks of her. He drinks, wipes, closes his eyes, turning his face towards the setting sun.

“I thought I’d find you here.”

Rasho. The roegadyn sits next to him, fabric shuffling against skin and grass. It’s quiet up here.

“Did it occur to you I came here to be alone?”

“Yes.”

Tansui opens his eyes and turns to his friend. Rasho has brought another bottle of sake and two cups. He’s pouring sake into one, the other left in grass. Tansui had not bothered with a cup himself after all, and Rasho is not one to insist.

“It’s a nice one,” Rasho says. “Export bound for Ishgard, by my understanding. Good thing the captain needed to lighten his ballast.”

“How fortunate indeed.”

Tansui lifts his own flask, and takes a deep drink. Rasho lifts his cup and drinks with him. They sit, and drink, in silence for some time, the sun slipping lower towards the ocean and their shadows growing long.

“So,” his friend says. “Writing letters?”

It’s a question, and fair enough. He has no family to correspond with, and any letters related to their newfound diplomatic relations with Doma must go through the Captain.

He nods, unwilling to break the silence just yet. It’s not like he’s started writing yet. He doesn’t have much to say, other than perhaps wax poetic about the quality of the sake, and implore her to stay safe. To come visit, again, but it feels like refrain. He knows she may not be able to, but – how many times can he ask?

“Meryta, is it?”

He nods again, squinting at Rasho. He wonders if he can let him carry the conversation all on his own. Rasho drinks for his cup, almost comically tiny in his large hands. Just for the taste of it, Tansui knows.

“It has been a while since she has visited.” Rasho looks at the folded papers still in his hands. “You care for her, do you not?”

“I do.”

What does his friend want him to say? That he misses her, and that every time the aetheryte hums with incoming travelers, his heart leaps in his chest like he is some kind of lovesick youngster?

“And yet you wait for her here, while she’s off doing what she does, without you.”

“What would you have me do? I –” He feels hot and angry, his voice raised, “she is – somewhere, outside this world, and I’m – I belong here Rasho, never mistake that.”

“Peace, friend. I know. That wasn’t my point.”

He’s ashamed, immediately. He knows Rasho does not doubt his loyalty, same as he doesn’t doubt Rasho. Doma freed and all, the Captain stays here. As does he.

“I’m sorry.”  Tansui takes another drink and flings himself backwards on the grass, his head a bit heavy from the sake now. “She’s out there, in danger, doing Kami knows what with her friends.”

Rasho waves his apology away.

“It bothers you.”

Trust Rasho to say the obvious, so he doesn’t deign a reply. There’s something else that bothers him besides the danger she’s in, an uncertainty in waiting which he barely wants to name.  

“Have you at least told her, how much you care?”

“No.”  He grabs his bottle and drinks the last of it, while still laying down, the rich liquid filling his mouth and burning its way down to his belly. The grass is soft and pleasant. He has written of his wish to see her again, and she likewise, but nothing certain. No promises, and it grates him more than it should.

“I don’t know if she feels the same,” he admits. It sounds sullen to his own ears.

“Have you asked?” Rasho pours himself another cup from his own bottle, only the third. “Mayhap you’d be less bothered if you did.”

“Or mayhap I should care less.”

“You should make up your mind. And talk to her.” Rasho lifts his cup and drinks. “What do you want, my friend?”

“I – I want… Well, it’s not like I need –”

Rasho doesn’t say anything when he falters.

I would be simpler if he didn’t care, but he’s not sure not caring is what he wants. It would be easier if it was. To let go of these feelings he can barely admit to anyway. To simply have her come or not come, no use for worrying. No use in trying to determine if she’s with someone else, if someone else is touching her.

Perhaps he should just find someone else to fuck, someone to have a good time with. He finds he has no taste for it, the idea wholly unappealing. And the idea of her being touched by someone else sets a fire burning inside of him. He wants to keep her for himself. Selfish and frustrating, she isn’t here, not even on this world, and he should be content to wait and not expect her to adhere to promises not made. And yet her letters make it seem like she – he wishes he didn’t care, that she didn’t occupy his thoughts like this.

But she does.

A silence settles over them, and Rasho says nothing when he sits up again and grabs Rasho’s bottle and drinks and drinks again.

He’ll write letters and see what happens. She’s – just trouble anyways, and he’s never been one to pursue a permanent relationship anyways. It’s fine to keep it casual. Fine.

“I shouldn’t – I should just – ’s fine really. It’s just casual, you know. I don’t need to – care that much.”

“If you say so.”

“It’s late,” he says, and stands slowly. He’ll write another day, it’s too dark and he’s not even sure where the pen went.

Rasho stands with him.

His head is fuzzy by now, swimming. The stars are out. Rasho picks up the letters gently, with a care he’s grateful for. He’s unsteady as he gets up, but it’s fine.

“I’m fine.”

“Sure you are.”

Rasho gently catches him, when he stumbles on something – who put that there – a stupid rock.

“You’ll break your neck on the stairs.”

“Will not.”

He may not be making his case well, as he’s still holding on to the other man. Rasho sighs, and turns his eyes towards the starry sky.

“Look, Tansui. Either I’ll pick you up and carry you like petulant child –”

“’m older than you –”

“You certainly are. Either I’ll pick you up, or you can ride on my back.”

Tansui lets go of Rasho and sways. The sake was rather strong, or there was a lot of it. He sighs, and lets himself be hoisted on his friends back.

Rasho walks carefully down the stairs, and continues across the sand towards Onokoro proper. Tansui’s head is swimming. He’s not been in such a state – he’s propelled back in time, to when they were both younger and foolisher, but Rasho never had a taste for excess. Rasho would carry him back from Isari, just like this, when Tansui had overin– had drunk too much. He’s too old for this, now, and all over a pretty girl with pretty purple eyes and green hair and so fierce and so soft and the world’s not fair to her –

The world swims when Rasho makes it up the stairs. He should protest, he should walk, in front of the men, but the Rasho doesn’t care, and he’s lost in thought again, the last time she was here, in his arms –

“— she’s just so nice.”

“So you’ve mentioned, friend.”

“But it’s not –”

The torches are awfully bright and he pauses and squints. Rasho says nothing.

His thoughts wander again, and he feels he needs to let Rasho know, he’s decided that he won’t need to care. Did he already say so? Her eyes would be luminous in the dark here, brilliant band of purple like nothing else. Right. Casual things, casual visits.

“Is not going to be…. I’ll just enjoy her visiting, you see. Enjoy a lot.”

“I see.”

He is quite certain from Rasho’s tone that he doesn’t. They’re by his door now, and the other man pushes it open, and carry him all the way to his bed. Undignified. He tries to stand, but fails, and puts his head on his pillow instead. It doesn’t smell like her.

“It’s nothing really. She’s just very – I think I love her.”

“Ah. There it is.”

“You knew,” he accuses.

“I’ve known you a long time.”

“You’re a good friend.”

Tansui awkwardly pats Rasho’s knee, the tall man looming over him.

“Sleep, and it’s good thing I am, or I’d not let you shirk your duties tomorrow.”

Tansui is asleep, snoring, before Rasho leaves.

#ffxiv #ffxiv fanfic #final fantasy 14 #ff14 fanfic #rasho & tansui #ffxiv tansui #ffxiv rasho #tansui #meryta x tansui #tansuiwol #ahh I just wanted to explore their friendship a bit #and tansui's struggle #heh #viking writes #published 3/11/2024

[neneru-nowhere]

Lalapril Day 4: Coast

The Undsatzr stopped at Costa Del Sol to drop off precious cargo and acquire yet more from Wineport. Captain Trachynwyda encouraged Neneru to spend a day taking in sun and surf at the famed resort settlement.

#lalapril #ffxiv lalapril #ffxiv lalafell #ffxiv lala #ffxiv lfrp #ffxiv arr #ff14 #ffxiv fanfic #ffxiv oc #ffxiv fanfiction #ffxiv rp #ffxiv #lalafell #ffxiv landscape #ffxiv lore