#gender neutral wol

[kaelsleftverdantsphere]

You know how your WoL, after the events of ARR, after that loooong banquet cut scene, still has to travel quite a bit to reach Camp Dragonhead?

Consider-

—-

They could’ve just gotten on their trusty chocobo and ran as fast as that bird’s legs could possibly handle… But they don’t. Their mind isn’t their friend at this moment. They’re tired, so, so tired. They walk, hastily enough to let out laboured breaths with every step. Sometimes they almost run, but always stop just before the pain in their hip comes back in its entirety. That fall there upon the banquet floor is to thank for it, and it doesn’t want to go away. Tears stream down their face as their mind circles back to the scene in the sultana’s chamber, back to the massacre at the banquet, back to all the friends lost. They shake their head just to realise that hurts as well. Their temples are burning with the heat of a million fires and they hadn’t even noticed.

They finally reach Camp Dragonhead, walk to the main building and just before opening the door, they collapse on the steps in front of it.

Their thoughts and body both feeling far too heavy for them to carry on forward.

A fallen hero, unworthy of calling themselves the warrior of light.

Their mind wonders to the deepest pits of hell before they hear a familiar voice. The voice is worried for them, and they can feel the warmth of hands on their cheeks. As the warmth leaves them, they open their eyes just to frantically look for its source, wanting nothing but for it to come back. And there he is, lord Haurchefant, with his warm hands reaching elsewhere and disappearing from their view as they feel themselves getting lifted away from those cold steps and closer to that handsome face. They consider kissing it, lifting their own hands just to hold it closer as they press themselves as close as humanly possible to him…

—

Haurchefant proceeds to bring them to his room and feeds them chicken stock and hot cocoa for the next week….??? Maybe probably????

#final fantasy #final fantasy xiv #final fantasy 14 #a realm reborn #final fantasy XIV a realm reborn #final fantasy XIV Heavensward #Heavensward #ffxivarr #ffxiv arr #ffxiv heavensward #Haurchefant #WoL #warrior of light #gender neutral WoL #gender neutral warrior of light #haurchefant x wol #haurchefant greystone #haurchewol

[sheluma]

Sleepless dreams

Loudly, Krile sighs before sweeping her eyes across the room. It was a mess. Still is, but there's a method behind the varying stacks of papers, meaning within how the papers are scattered on the floor. Her blue eyes stop.

It's not far from Krile— the desk, identical to hers. Hunched over with his head burid in his hands, a Miqo'te sat there; his fluffy, red tail sways behind the chair, occasionally flickering. What a pitful sight. Krile pushes back her chair and hops off.

Walking next to him, she pats him. Gently— stirring from his slumber, he lifts head. Those ruby eyes closing and opening, repeatedly.

"You should take a break," Krile says in a hush tone. "We need a break." He doesn't say anything; the man rubs his face, battling for consciousness. Guilt buds within Krile, like flowers: G'raha barely sleeps.

Dreading on the possibility of never waking from a dreamless sleep, or that one day, he'll awake somewhere else— stuck in another time. That he'll be back at the crystal tower again. Afraid that maybe, just maybe, this is an elaborate dream from death— a pity gift from Hydaelyn.

Often— depressingly often, when Krile calls it a day, G'raha will stay. Tirelessly working through the night, through the sleepy-haze; even the Annex administration, Ojika, noticed. They stay too, keeping an eye on their stubborn cat-boy. When Krile leaves her room and heads to the headquarters, Ojika will stop her and give her a report.

"He hasn't left at all, Krile." Sadly smiling, there's time they'll say, "Raha left, but he took work with him to his room... I checked and the candle burned nearly all night."

Krile shakes him again.

"Raha," she calls him out of his trance. He wakes. With a yawn, G'raha looks down at her, smiling.

"Krile." Suddenly, those pointy ears of his shot up along with his eyes widening to red moons. "Gods— I am so sorry! I didn't even realize that I was falling—"

"Raha."

His antsy movement halted, seeing the tender yet worried smile on Krile's small face. "I do not care if you nap, you do work for three." She shakes her head, and the smile distorts into a scrunched-up concerned expression. "I worry for your health."

"Ah," an tiny sound left from G'raha; he merely looks down at his hands, toying with his fingers. "I apologize."

"Stop that," Krile gets on the tippy-tips of her boots and reach for his face. Then made him look at her.

A face like G'raha isn't suited for a frown— for sadness: something more bright, cheerful, excited fits that boyish face of his. Yet, those red ears lays, pressing against his short hair. Bags— dark and heavy— stretches under his eyes; there's even a heart-wrenching paleness to him, sickly and dull. Everything that a Sun-keeper isn't.

"That's it," pulling her hands away, she rest them on her hips. "Tomorrow, all of us has a day off!"

"What?" G'raha gets up from his seat, pushing back the chair from the speed. "But, but, but there's still so muc—"

"Much we have done!" A bright, teethy grin speads on Krile's face. "I did tell you was doing three people's worth, didn't I?"

G'raha stops, almost as if he's shocked. His hands fall to his sides and stares at the Lalafell, whom grinning like nobody's business. "Didn't I say," she asks, "we need a break?"

"You did?"

Krile grin drops, but she sighs as she realizes.

"Right, you was asleep then I said that. But!" Determined, she shook her head while saying, "it doesn't change what I said."

A light goes off in Krile's head— gleefully grinning, she adds.

"Besides, I know where the Warrior of Light is." Instantly, G'raha perks up: his ears, tail, eyes— there's even a brighter tent to his skin. It's absolutely ridiculous about how merely mentioning that traveler brightens him up... so child-like, but it's so endearing.

G'raha trying to calm himself, coughing into his hand.

"Maybe, maybe a break us a good idea," he says, desperately not to jitter; until, something weighed on G'raha. The excitement melted. Those eyes gloomied, but he looks at Krile with a curious glint.

"Do you think... they'll mind?" He must of saw the confusion on her face, because he goes on to explain. "They haven't contacted me, at all." Rubbing the back of his neck, his tail anxiously swishes. "Maybe they're off on an adventure, and I," he pauses.

Those long, shap claws dig into the back of his neck; Krile notices the light qiver running down him, but she says nothing. She— and always will— remain patient with him. G'raha gazes deeply into her round yet sharp eyes. "I know. I know that they never have time to themselves: constantly, the star or the people around them yanks to wherever they're needed.

Even I." Those heart-felt eyes water as G'raha chokes out, " and I don't want to do that to them! Not anymore."

"Oh Raha," Krile reaches for his limp hand and hold it. They feel so cold in her tiny, tiny hands.

G'raha doesn't react; he just stares at his faded, black boots, soundless as a tree. "You care so, so much." Krile spoke, smiling sweetly, "but do you remember how they acted— how happy with how you asked to go on adventure with them?" That tail of his flickered.

Krile shakes her head and adds, "the Warrior of Light cares for you!" G'raha eyes trails up, meeting her eyes. Uncertainty ruled his face: his eyes darting around, searching for hints of falsehood. With a huff, Krile admits, "I understand what you're getting at— truly.

But belive me when I say this: the Warrior of Light absolutely adores you. So," Krile grins. "I doubt they'll find your presence to be a bother!"

"Are you sure?" Krile nods; a thoughtful expression floods his face, but there's no longer the cloud of uncertainty hanging over him. There's even a glow to him now.

His red eyes just shining, and his tail flapping around."Where are they now?"

"Oh no you don't," letting go of his hand, Krile crosses her arms. With frow brows, she spoke.

"If you're going to the warrior, you're going to sleep!" As if her words stun, G'raha jumps back.

A mixing bowl of shock and tense, his hands brought up to his face— curled; even his tail was straight as a pole.

"O-ok." Krile begans to usher him out, but when he was out the door, he stops. Looking over his shoulder and down at her, G'raha had to ask.

"How do you know where they are?"

A mischievous glint shines in Krile's eyes, and she was smirking as she answered.

"Tataru and I have tea often."

————————————————————————

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed; btw, got the gif from zahra-hydris's post!

#ff14 ffxiv #ff14 headcanons #short story #creative writing #ffxiv fic #final fantasy 14 #final fantasy xiv #final fantasy xiv headcanons #g'raha tia #endwalker spoilers #shadowbrings spoilers #insomnia #storytelling #my writing #ansgt #character trauma #sad boi hours #wol #gender neutral WoL #tataru taru #post endwalker

[unbloomingmoonflower]

"I don't know what is it that you see in me, but I'm lucky that you do."

For whoever you want 😊

You know what? I haven't written anything for Cu! Let's make this the first one!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

She had been well-fed. The hunger that panged her while in the keep, barely surviving for scraps given by her mistress before she fell to the Warriors of Light. One was kind enough to not kill the vampire voidsent immediately, sensing that she was only hungry--not dangerous.

And she was given a name: Cu Troia.

Cu was grateful to the warrior. She was allowed to roam the realm of Eorzea, where she could taste the aether. There were many who feared a voidsent on the loose and nothing being done about it. Their first instinct was to fear what they didn't understand. Cu meant no harm, absolutely none. She was simply curious and only finding things out the only way she could.

Even now, Cu idled at the side of the warrior, learning steadily. It was strange; this same warrior and their allies have struck down her fellow voidsents that served her mistress. What did they see in Cu that allowed her to be spared?

The words slipped out before the voidsent could stop herself. "I don't know what is it that you see in me, but I'm lucky that you do."

The warrior glanced over at her, eyes wide with surprise before they softened. Their armored hand raised to rest atop of Cu's head, ruffling her already disheveled, crimson locks. "I had a feeling you weren't dangerous, that's all, Cu," they replied, their voice so kind and gentle that something inside of Cu ached. "And I was right. You were mistreated pretty badly in that castle and you didn't attack anyone. Even now, you didn't attack anyone when we took you out of the void and you didn't know any better."

Heat fused in Cu's cheeks, fangs poking out just slightly. "It's all right then...if I continue to stay at your side?" she asked. It was a question that weighed upon her mind, had her anxious to know if she were to be thrown away...

"Of course you can, Cu." The answer came swiftly, accompanied by a softer smile. "You have a lot to see in this world. We can see it together."

#moonie writes #writing prompt #cu troia #gender neutral WoL #drabble

[sindows10]

There is a part 2 to this but im scared ill get banned off tumblr

#also i was gonna originally go with mistress instead of wol but decided for gender neutral instead so that you can self insert your wol hehe #mine #ffxiv #ff14 #g'raha tia #ffxiv wol #graha tia #yup this ones going in the sindows10 cringe compilation

[killingdove]

could we perhaps get some headcanons for the ishgardian trio realizing the moment they fell for the reader/wol 👀👀👀

ishgardian trio ➳ — 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

A/N: ooh i love this request so much!! i hope these are to your liking dearest anon ♡

𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐘𝐑𝐌𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃

it was in the way you sliced not only your foes but the way you sliced through the air as well when you were in battle

you may or may not worship halone but either way you were clearly bestowed the gift of combat prowess by her grace

when you’d have sparring matches together, estinien would never go easy on you as he finds that disrespectful but you knock the breath out of him physically and metaphorically whenever you win

there was a day where the practice match ended in you managing to get estinien’s back to fall atop the ground and you were pointing your weapon’s tip at him proudly from your standing position

“don’t tell me you’ve gone easy on me, wyrmblood,” you smirk

estinien stares up at you with wide eyes as he feels his heart skip a beat

but he quickly schools his elegant elezen features into his usual scowl

“of course not. who do you take me for?”

laughing, you help him up and he swears the contact between your hands ignited something within him, something different and incomparable to nidhogg’s rage that he felt all the time

he comes to find your laugh is like music to his ears

he also realizes he wants to hear more of the sound, and he uses that dry humor of his to elicit more of them from you from that day onwards which results in more small smiles from him

he’s doomed

𝐇𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐄

when he wrote and poured his heart into the missive that would later grant you and the scions access to ishgard, he stopped at one point after going on a spiel about you in ink

he had unwittingly went on to sing your highest praises and much of it read like a love letter

it was during his reminiscing of your good deeds as he wrote did he realize the pure adoration and emotion he felt for you

haurchefant gets embarrassed by himself, a blush rising to his cheeks as he sets the paper aside to start anew

he was nervous such a prodigious hero as yourself would not return his feelings

not only that but he did not want to risk his father blabbering about the contents of the missive to you

later, he sees you that day and feels his stomach doing somersaults

you were just so radiant, bringing hope and happiness wherever you tread

“be still my beating heart…” he mumbles to himself before he approaches you with a smile

as usual, he was his jovial and enthusiastic, caring self

but if one were to look closely enough, the dead giveaway of his love for you was evident within his eyes as they’d crinkle at the corners with his genuine smiles

𝐀𝐘𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐂 𝐃𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐋

he had always admired you from the moment he started following your expeditions and learning of your successes

but he never knew the extent of how deep his feelings ran for you as time had passed with working with you

it wasn’t until he invites you for a one-on-one dinner within the Borel manor

that evening he got to know you better, and the back and forth conversations you had over steak and wine did nothing but stoke the flames of his growing love

when the topic had shifted to romance, he felt heat circulating within his cheeks

the way you talked about your past lovers however, caused a different heat within him; one that bespoke of jealousy

it was an ugly feeling that twisted him on the inside, one he was not quite familiar with but nevertheless he hid it well

he had asked what you found attractive in a partner eventually totally for the sake of carrying conversation and not because he was curious to see if he was the warrior of light’s type nooooo

aymeric found himself comparing his likeness to your standards and it suddenly hit him with startling clarity mid-way through rejoicing internally that he shared your type’s physical attributes

uh oh

the concern on your face when he lets his mask slip for just a moment makes him fall even harder for you if anything

with his newfound revelation, he says nothing is amiss and diverts your attention towards sharing your experiences with beastmen

all the while he’s screaming inside

#ffxiv headcanons #ff14 headcanons #estinien x wol #estinien x reader #gender neutral clothing #estinien wyrmblood headcanons #estinien varlineau headcanons #estinien wyrmblood x reader #estinien varlineau x reader #haurchefant greystone x wol #haurchefant x wol #haurchefant x reader #haurchefant greystone x reader #haurchefant headcanons #estinien headcanons #aymeric x wol #aymeric x reader #aymeric headcanons #aymeric de borel headcanons #aymeric de borel x wol #aymeric de borel x reader #final fantasy xiv x reader #final fantasy xiv headcanons #ffxiv x reader #ff14 x reader

[dawntrailing]

Alphinaud: We will go with you, as well. There is naught to be gained by standing still. Y'shtola: Indeed, we have exhausted every other avenue. Lead and we shall follow. If there is any hope to be found, then we will surely find it at your side. Thancred: Are we all in agreement, then?

#final fantasy series #final fantasy xiv #final fantasy xiv: shadowbringers #ffxiv #alisaie leveilleur #alphinaud leveilleur #urianger augurelt #y'shtola rhul #thancred waters #scions of the seventh dawn #ffxivedits #made it gender neutral to be all wol friendly #anyway i cant stop thinking about this scene #ryne waters

[mythril-tempest]

new patch, new me(ow)

ᓚᘏᗢ

#ffxiv #my wol #ffxiv screenshots #ffxiv oc #ffxiv glamour #ffxiv warrior of light #ffxiv wol #ffxiv gpose #warrior of light #gposers #ffxiv miqo'te #seeker of the sun #i loved viera but i missed hats #i also felt that i looked waaaaay too feminine as a bunny girl #currently i feel SUPER gender neutral and i am LOVING IT #even as an au’ra it felt super feminine #but with the glam and new poses #it’s super neutral and i really love them #also love the new hair tbh

[thatcritterthatskitter]

from order of new to old, here's my tiny freaking wol

#the last one was taken when i was in free trail!!! fun times!! #sorry gang bard glam is my favorite. it's gonna take a majorly superior hat for me to consider changing it out #Critter Skritter #ffxiv wol #ffxiv #lalafell #that's my little guy!!! (gender neutral) #heavily enjoying my time with the game and i thought to actually post way more screenshots next time #or well. this time around

[miss-tc-nova]

Guilt - Y’shtola Rhul x WoL

Started this one ages ago but only just had time to sit and finish it. Not perfect, but eh. And a shitty title

Premise: Y’shtola’s secret mission keeps getting interrupted. 

Genre: Angst

Words: 2,219

~~~~~

              Heels click along the tiled floor. They pause for just a moment before another bookcase. Nimble fingers skim spines of tomes from across the ages while cloudy eyes discern their contents, looking for something—anything—that might suit her needs.

              Another book unlikely to provide any aid joins the pile in her arms. Brief contemplations cross her mind to increase her collection, but the toll of time—meant to remind the studious that a realm outside their readings still exists—tells her that she’ll simply have to settle for now.

              Warm sunlight falls on her face as she steps outside, matched with a soft breeze for the perfect weather. Scholars on all walks of life cross the grounds of the Noumenon in their various endeavors for knowledge. It seems that many have decided to forgo the clock’s warning and continue their study. Would that she could do the same: delving into the words of her predecessors with reckless abandon in the hopes of making a life-changing discovery. But no, her studies are in pursuit of a different kind of “life-changing.”

              “Y’shtola.”

              An ear flickers before her gaze follows. The approaching aether she recognizes. Across her lips pulls a smile that her heart contradicts.

              “It’s good to see you again, Krile. And Alphinaud, back from Garlemald, I see.”

              The young man replies, “It’s just a short visit. Alisaie is waiting for me to return with some supplies and perhaps with some ideas to encourage cooperation with the Garleans. No doubt impatiently, might I add.”

              “And how has your progress on the humanitarian front progressed?” In reality, she doesn’t care, but to show such disregard is considered ill-mannered. And she must avoid all suspicion.

              Alphinaud speaks of his work with lively input from Krile. Only the barest dredges of the sorceress’s mind remain with the conversation, the rest remains dedicated—fixated—on her objective.

              “Has there been any word yet from Eorzea’s champion?”

              The young man’s question pierces her ruminations. This question she’s heard many times over. Quite frankly, she wishes they would refrain from doing so; it’s exhausting always deciding between lies and honesty. The lies always win.

              “No, still no sign of our hero.”

              Sullen silence suffocates the scholars for a moment. This is not a subject easily breached, let alone to the sorceress. Surely, Alphinaud now regrets venturing his query.

              “My apologies. I meant no—”

              “Enough.” Y’shtola cuts him short. “I see no reason to fret over that fool. A choice was made. So when the adventure is over and we meet again, there will be an exceedingly long discussion, believe you me.”

              It’s no wonder that her sharp tongue has the pair on edge. Mockery and pity are most often the two consolations given regarding the situation. Y’shtola’s ire, especially as the missing Warrior’s partner, must come as a shock.

              Krile’s laugh is filled with unease. “I have no doubt about that. I’m sure it will be a scolding for the ages.”

              This discussion has gone over long. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a significant amount of reading to do and holding these books is becoming quite tiresome.”

              The lalafellin is merciful. “Yes, by all means, don’t let us delay your work any further.”

              “I wish you luck in your endeavor,” agrees Alphinaud. The woman begins to walk when the elezen adds, “But Y’shtola.”

              Against her better judgement, her boots pause.

              Alphinaud’s pain irritates the darkness in her heart. “Please call on us if ever you need anything.”

              The exhale is surprisingly stable. “Of course. Safe travels to you both.”

              Without any more distractions, Y’shtola takes her leave.

              Her journey to the Rostra is filled with prayers that she remain unnoticed a second time. Though disregard blesses her travel, the feeling of scrutiny crawls beneath her skin. Eyes follow her every turn, unwavering judgement bearing down on her conscience. That face, printed over and over and plastered across the city haunts her and yet motivates her all the same.

              “Ah, Y’shtola.”

              Another chain binds her heart. Composure as strong as she can muster, she lifts her head.

              “G’raha. Urianger.” Her head dips in greeting.

              “What fortuitous tidings,” the elezen hums.

              “Fortuitous indeed,” she agrees.

              G’raha approaches, the tomes in her hands under scrutiny. “That’s quite an armful you’ve got there. Delving into another profound theory?”

              “Time waits for no scholar and neither will the star’s mysteries.”

              “And what of thy learnings since last we met?”

              Right, it was Urianger prodding into Y’shtola’s private affairs last time. And the time before that as well. Uncanny persistence, while well-meaning, is proving tiresome, especially with such a perceptive man.

              “Not as fruitful as desired, I’m afraid.” Not entirely a lie. “So I’m hopeful that my visit to the Noumenon will provide more light to my conundrum.”

              “Perhaps if thou were to share this conundrum with us, we might be of some aid to thee.”

              There it is—the enquiring.

              “I’m afraid I’m not ready to divulge the subject of my thesis as of yet. There are details still to be decided.”

              “I see. Well under thy fastidious mind, I’m sure the answers will soon become clear.”

              If only it were so easy.

              G’raha motions again to her arms. “In the meantime, would you like a hand with your findings? They look heavy.”

              “Thank you, but I assure you I’ll manage. I must, however, be on my way now if I’m to make any progress.”

              Urianger lets not a single step pass before he speaks again.

              “One last inquiry ere we part.”

              Regretfully, her goal is postponed once again.

              “—How are you faring as of late?”

              The lies stain her tongue, needing no thought to let them loose. “I’m perfectly hale and whole.”

              G’raha keeps his silence, but Urianger, as always, is willing to have the hard talks.

              “While diligent work is certainly commendable, doing so at the expense of one’s well being will only lead to a paltry performance at best. Thine beloved would not approve.”

              Y’shtola’s lips twist at the assault. Even before the Scions, many sleepless nights were spent in pursuit of knowledge. As a student of Master Matoya, she thrived on small sustenance and midnight oil. Considering the very place they stood, that he can make such statements is rather insulting.

              Even if he is right.

              No, the wound now comes from her own conscience. Would that she could take his advice and confide in the people she considered family, but they simply wouldn’t understand. Thus her dark deeds remain hers alone.

              Her words are sharp with the intent to silence. “I know what needs be done and I will not tolerate a lecture unnecessary. My ventures are my own and I know full well the consequences. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

              There’s no pause for permission. Her strides carry her with conviction; there will be no more intrusions on her goal. She can’t stand any more of it.

              Still, as the woman steps into the elevator and the gate closes behind her, those eyes fall upon her once again. Even here, there’s a missing persons poster to implicate her of her darkest secret.

              In spite of the conclusion of the Final Days, all of Eorzea is in a state of alert. The Scions returned to Etherys, every one of them accounted for. They were greeted as the heroes they were upon return.

              The healers quickly descended on them. Those like Alphinaud and Y’shtola had rather superficial injuries that required negligible attention. Melee individuals such as Estinien and Thancred had taken more damage. But it was the Warrior of Light that fought beyond life and death for all the realm’s sake. How anyone could even stand after such a feat was a miracle in and of itself.

              The events that had transpired had taken its toll. In the days following, visitors were greeted with over enthusiasm that quickly waned to mental truancy. Conversations were left unresolved and friends were no longer acknowledged. Apologies are frantically given once said episode passes but it never prevents the next one. Soon, guests were no longer accepted with one exception and it led to outbursts. Tensions rose with her every visit, frequently finalized by her dismissal.

              Then the Warrior of Light vanished.

              Healers frantically searched the Psysis Technon, quickly extending their investigation to all of Old Sharlyan. An alert put out by the Forum had every eye in the city on the lookout for the confused champion, but the Warrior was never found. Some sympathized that the adventurer snuck away to enjoy their wandering roots once more. Yet some claimed that someone wanted to dispatch a threat already weakened—some turned on the Forum for that one. Suspicion was even thrown the Scions’ way, most of all Y’shtola as the last person to see the missing person.

              Moons have waxed and waned. Word has spread through Eorzea like a plague. Would-be heroes have tried to take up the mantle, falling pitifully short of the feat of the Final Days. Imposters have stepped forth in hopes of gaining a glory not rightfully theirs. Reports of sightings take the Scions to places across the realm in search of their missing ally.

              But Y’shtola knows that every report and every claim is false. They will never find the Warrior of Light and she intends to keep it that way.

              Her arrival in Labarynthos cannot come soon enough. Departure soon follows suit, leading the woman along the dirt path. The cool air of perfectly-simulated night quells her dismay. Quite and calm is the road before her, bereft of travelers save the lonely sorceress. Her pace slows, thoughts roaming through threads of text she glanced before her journey—trying desperately to avoid the despair that awaits her.

              Well away from any Labarynthian settlement, Y’shtola’s travels take her off the beaten path. Twisting and winding through pure wilderness, not a trace of her presence is left behind. It wouldn’t do to lead any unfortunate soul to her deepest secret.

              Stone looms overhead with intent to halt her journey. Page-worn fingers extend, tracing ridges and leaving behind essence of aether. Against its nature, the wall gives way, revealing the passage it hid at her behest. Then, with none the wiser to her whereabouts, the stone swallows the sorceress and resumes its inconspicuous ways.

              Into the depths of the earth the hallway takes her, deeper than any cavern carved out by any scholar in nature mimicry. Cold rock encases her at every step, leaving little room for her to pass, let alone anything larger. Though enshrouded in utter darkness, this path is clear in her cloudy eyes. Natural aether in accompaniment of her own grants her sight where it would leave all others helpless. Should any unsuspecting fool miraculously stumble upon the entrance, surely this inhospitable route would discourage any investigation—for their sake.

              One last squeeze through a narrow turn opens into a vast cavern. Aether sets alight the room, revealing even the farthest corner, yet at its center is a massive, black hole. Circles of magic and massive chains entrap the creature. Even so, it rouses at her presence. A feral growl ripples the air, snaring Y’shtola’s heart with innate fear. Though she cannot see the creature void of aether, she can feel the slaughterous gaze locked on her. Though feral rumbles continue, Y’shtola ventures deeper into the grotto, finally relinquishing her books to the floor.

              Peering up into the void that dwarfs her with even its paws, she feels a sense of grief. Yet even as this sorrow and anger overwhelm her, such emotions are siphoned into the abyss before her—a vicious cycle begetting more and more heartache. Thus far, her conviction has held. Watching her hero fall deeper and deeper into despair pained her. In those final days of humanity, the adventurer expressed fear that misfortune would befall Y’shtola and their friends. No matter what words she used, the sorceress could not sway the terror. And as it consumed the aether-weakened warrior, Y’shtola turned to rage. Demands were thrown as to how it could be—after all that happened—that concession was an option now. Grasping the severity of all these terrible emotions and how only now their impact was too much was simply beyond her.

              Even now, she doesn’t understand. The only fact that truly reached her rationale was that the person she loved was suffering and she was useless.

              Her denial runs strong. Though no method in reverting any fell beast has been discovered, her resolve to find one is Y’stola’s driving force. More like than not, it’s for her own selfish desires, but for the sake of Eorzea’s peace she could almost fabricate an excuse. Not that any is aware of her dirty little secret in harboring a Blasphemy. Surely none would approve. They would call her mad for even trying. Thancred and Urianger would be the first to step forward to end the suffering.

              That’s why she keeps her secret. If it kills her, Y’shtola will find a way to fix this, to right her failure as a partner, to return to those days before the tragedy. Failure is not an option.

              A gentle smile pulls at her lips. An ear-deafening roar, filling the air, does nothing against her resolve.

              “Worry not, my love. I’m here.”

#yshtola #yshtola rhul #yshtola x reader #yshtola x wol #gender neutral reader

[noxtivagus]

i think i look very cool today.

#🌙.rambles #kinda emo but we don't talk abt that rn 🫣 #i'm wearing apollo's clothes technically #the shirt n the shorts !!!! r both technically men's clothing hehe #shorts used to be our dad's n then this lovely plain black shirt i rmb we just bought from. yeah the men's section #i either like wearing crop tops or baggy stuff n it's kinda funny to me #yk changing n making some more of my wol's glams today n #I WANT TO COSPLAY SO BAD ONE DAY !!!! #++ i want to wear suits. n dresses. i don't ever want to pick between those two they're equally cool to me #i gave up on gender identity btw i'll just be unlabelled #like. i'm still more on the female side but i don't want to identify that but the more neutral gender stuff don't rlly resonate w me :c #unlabeled is good. for now at least i think c:

[i984]

Your Love, My Religion

|Pairing|: Wednesday Addams x gender neutral reader

|Warnings|: Ooc! Wednesday Addams, childhood best friend! Wednesday Addams, canon-divergence because there's no Tyler, it's Parent's Weekend but this detail is useless, Pugsley LOVES you, kissing but weird 'cuz you'll see, author is in their experimental phase.

|Summary|: It only takes half a semester away and a stupid (yet surprising) school event to get Wednesday quit being a coward.

|A/n|: This was requested by my wife @wol-fica and reposted because yesterday the tags hate me.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Bewitching.

You were that in so many ways.

And now, as Wednesday locks eyes with you from across the quad—past all the bustling crowd of students and parents of Nevermore Academy—she realizes the fact hasn't changed, not one bit.

Her foot took a step forward for her. Then another. And another. Before she knew it, she was already heading toward you—bumping and trampling past the people she couldn't care less for—her heart hammering wildly against her chest.

You've always had that effect on her.

When your parents brought you for a playdate years ago, Wednesday had locked you in one of the rooms of the Addams family mansion. But instead of crying or screaming for help, all she heard you do was mutter a small okay and bye-bye. 

And she was content to let you rot and die a slow death, but when she pressed her ear to the wood and heard your faint giggles, she had to open the door to see what had brought you glee amidst her kidnapping.

She found you—sitting with your legs crossed on the floor—petting Nero, her pet scorpion on your lap, with a fascinated look on your face.

Ever since that day, 5-year-old Wednesday Addams would invite you to playdates every week without fail with excuses like, "Nero loves your pets more than mine," or, "Nero wants you to come over."

Even after the scorpion's tragic death a year later, she allowed you to continue visiting her weekly. Your title had changed from 'playdate partner' to 'study partner' as soon as both of you went to the same elementary school, and you've been joined by the hips with the Addams girl ever since. 

The weekly visits grew into daily ones, and soon, Wednesday would spend nearly every waking hour of the day with you, filling her childhood with memories of endless thrilling adventures.

She'd never admit this to anyone, but she respects you for not judging her for who she is. Other people had called her a freak, a menace to society, and Wednesday couldn't care less about them, especially when you look at her with so much kindness and passion every time she talks about torture methods or unsolved murder cases. 

You were there when Pugsley was born, and Wednesday blames you for the tender personality his brother would later develop. In a way, you raised Pugsley just as much as she did, and it proved to earn you an unbreakable bond with the boy. 

And that's why as she gets close enough to you, she can see Pugsley standing on your side, holding your hand—a perfect mirror of the picture she had seen a thousand times growing up.

Her breathing quickens, and so do her steps; Wednesday was basically sprinting at you with butterflies in her stomach. But she didn't care because you met her halfway and embraced her with a ferocity that nearly matched hers. 

"I missed you so much," You whisper, and Wednesday swears to memorize the sweet sound. She hadn't realized how much she had missed hearing your voice until now.

"You came."

"Pugsley invited me for this Parent's Weekend thing," You mumbled into her shoulder before pulling back to look at her face properly, "I know it hasn't even been a semester since you moved, but I have to see you again."

Wednesday almost melts then and there at the intensity of your words and how you look at her with so much compassion and trust—like you knew she'd never hurt you or betray your devotion. 

And she wouldn't. Not when her lips are so close to yours, with your breath fanning her face, nose scrunched adorably. 

You look perfect, like the last time Wednesday was in the same position with you, the night before she had to leave for Jericho and this damned school that has cursed her entire being. 

Last time, she acted like the coward she was, turning her face away from your longing gaze, heart too weak to leave you if she'd kissed you goodbye. 

But now, as Fate has presented her a second chance, Wednesday grabbed your jaw and pressed her lips to yours. Unlike last time, her move was sure as she felt your soft silken lips on her chapped ones. And when you kissed her back—with the same tenderness that she finds in your eyes, words, and touch—warmth fills her pitch-black heart, luring her deeper into your spell.

She kisses you like a prayer—your lips the altar, your love her false God—and Wednesday now understands how man can sink so deep into their religions; to die for their Gods. 

Because she would die for you, kill for you, live for you, and unlike last time, she'd gladly sin over and over again, redeeming herself on the lips that perfectly match hers.

The bewitching you; her life was a living testament to that. And she'd never let you go.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Tag list is in the comments or else this post breaks.

|A/n2|: I am never posting this day of the week ever again. Also I forgot to say thank you to 700 of you! 🥲💖

Edit: NOW I FORGOT TO ADD TAGS TO MY POST HELP WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME-

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams fanfic #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday x reader #wednesday series #jenna ortega x reader #wednesday addams #wednesday addams x fem!reader #wednesday netflix #wednesday x y/n #wednesday x you #wednesday #wednesday 2022 #spotify #wednesday fanfic #fanfic #fluff #my story

[fruitsoxs]

SOCKS! you can't just throw that at us and not write it. i need this vashwood x reader fic now. I never thought about it and now I can think of nothing else ❤️

ehe okay okay (this is in relation to this post)

pairings; wolfwood x (afab) reader x vash warnings; pure smut, !nsfw minors dni! , little bit of everything, afab reader with gender neutral pronouns,

notes; vashwood x reader has my heart-- anyway wolfwood telling vash how to fuck you. this is longer than i intended it to be

Vash’s touch is so delicate as his metal fingers run down your skin. He trails his hand down to your waist, then back up to your cheek. He’s nervous. You can tell he’s nervous from the way he looks at you as you’re sprawled out on the bed underneath him. He doesn’t know what to do next, or how to keep the mood up. Hsi blue eyes are full of hesitance, and it’s so cute. You pull him down into a kiss, letting your tongue slip in between his lips as he makes small noises of pleasure. He likes kissing. He grips onto your face to keep the kiss going for a little while, only letting you pull away when you tap him softly to let him know you need air. As you part, a bit of spit links your mouth together. His cheeks are red, pupils dilated, and his tongue is sticking out slightly.

What you would give to take control and show him how much you love him. You can’t though. This is not your moment to lead, it’s not his either.

“You can be rougher than that blondie.” Wolfwood huffs from the chair across from you. He’s got a cigarette hanging lazily from his lips, and his eyes are on you. He winks and lets out a soft chuckle. “You’re letting ‘em do all the work. You’re supposed to be fucking them, not the other way around. Come on.” he instructs Vash. Vash’s face turns a bit red but he nods. He leans in to kiss you again, this time with more control.

His hands drift back down to your waist and slide up your torso, trailing over the bare skin. You moan against his lips at the cool feeling. His lips detach from yours and trails down your jaw as he reaches around your back to  undo your bra. He struggles with it for a second, but soon enough he’s ripping the fabric from your form, staring down at your bare chest. 

“Don’t just stare. Touch ‘em.” Wolfwood sighs, as though he’s annoyed. You can see him pawing at his clothed erection though. Vash bites his lips and nods, reaching out both hands to squeeze your chest. You gasp at the feeling of his metal hand and he retracts it. “Sorry!” He yelps, eyes wide. “It’s fine Vash. It just surprised me. You can keep going.” you reassure, smiling up at him. He sighs in relief and lets his hands fall back down around you, squeezing at the flesh. “You’re so pretty.” he hums leaning down, his eyes focused on the task at hand. He slowly wraps his lips around one of your nipples, licking and sucking at it experimentally. Your back arches up as you let out a loud whimper. “There you go. Look at that reaction. Perfect. Keep going.” Wolfwood instructs. 

Vash does as he says, moving his lips to your other nipple. He seems to be a bit more confident now, even going far as to let his fangs dig into your nipple a bit, offering some pain along with that pleasure. It makes you cry out, hands gripping the mattress beneath you. He smirks and does it again, and you all but melt. “V-Vash!” You moan and he pulls away slightly looking up at you. His lips still ghost over the soft skin, his warm breath hitting your hard nipple. The hesitancy from before slowly going away.

He starts trailing kisses down your sternum, then your stomach. All the while his eyes are on yours, gaging your reaction. Your eyes are wide as his lips rest right above your underwear line. He stops for a moment, and looks over at Wolfwood. “Go ahead Blondie.” And that’s all Vash needs to hear before he’s taking the thin fabric off of you. 

He parts your legs and looks down at your wet pussy with red cheeks. He bites his lips, and looks up at you. He’s not sure how to proceed. Wolfwood lets out a dry chuckle. “Just touch. You can tell if they like it by the way their body reacts.” He instructs. Vash slowly trails his hand down up your leg, and softly ghosts it over your cunt. You twitch and let your hips lift to meet his hand, whining for just a bit of friction.

He presses his fingers against your folds and gathers up a bit of your slick, then trails them up to your clit, You gasp and buck your hips again. “F-Fuck- right there-” you groan. His eyes widen and he starts rubbing the sensitive spot softly. It drives you mad. 

Vash’s touch is so hesitant and sweet. It’s everything you had hoped it would be, but you need more. Wolfwood sees the desperation in your eyes and stands up. He walks over and grabs Vash’s head, which causes the blonde man to let out a choked gasp/moan.  “You wanna eat them out blondie?” Wolfwood asks, tilting Vash’s head up. Vash lets out a soft yes, and before you know it Wolfwood is pushing Vash’s head down between your legs. “Lick.” 

And Vash complies. He licks at your clit softly, almost like a kitten lick at first. When you gasp and moan, his tongue grows more intense. Swiping at the nerve  to draw out those sweet noises. He experiments a bit, trying to figure out what movements get the biggest reaction. “Now, start adding your fingers into the mix. Get em prepped for what’s to come.” Wolfwood’s eyes are on you as you react to what’s happening below you. He seems to enjoy watching you get off on Vash’s tongue. 

You’re given little time to think about that as a finger slips into your pussy. You cry out as your hands fly down to grab onto Vash’s hair. Wolfwood steps back to watch the scene play out. Vash’s fingering is a bit clumsy, but it feels so good. He adds a finger as Wolfwood tells him to, and you feel yourself start to crumble.”F-Fuck- Vash I’m gonna-” You get cut off by him bending his fingers in just the right way. You basically yell out his name as you cum around his fingers. He doesn’t seem to want to stop. He continues to lick and suck at your sensitive bud. “Fuck- Sunshine you taste so good.” he coos. You whimper  and try to pull his head away, overwhelmed after your orgasm. 

“You can do that again some other time. They’re ready for you.” Wolfwood guides him away. 

You’re chets rises up and down as you pant, staring at Vash. He makes eye contact with you, seemingly just now losing all of his confidence. “I-I…” he stutters, his hands on your knees. He takes a deep breath and nods. “Okay.”

You smile softly and sit up, connecting your lips to his. He kisses back. You can hear shuffling to the side. Wolfwood must be sitting down again. There’s no doubt the man is probably looking for a little relief of his own. This moment is all about you and Vash though. You give the blonde a sloppy kiss, drinking in his soft moans. Your fingers trail down to the hem of his shirt, and you slowly pull the fabric up. He tenses, but your reassuring kisses help him ease into the situation. You know he must be insecure right now, but it’s nothing you haven’t already seen. He knows you think he’s beautiful. 

After that you fall back down, leaving him with one last kiss. His hands fly down to his pants, and he starts to push them down. He takes his time, his hands still shaky. Once the pants are off, he lets out a soft sigh. You reach up and trail your hand  up his thigh, and he sucks in a breath. It’s…different. “Beautiful.” You mumble out loud. Not normal, but not in a bad way. He smiles down at you, and grabs your hand. He holds it for a second, before Wolfwood lets out an impatient groan. 

The man is sitting back in the chair, stroking his dick. His eyes are focused on you two, and he seems to be saying “get on with it.” You roll your eyes at the man and look up at Vash. “You ready?” you ask softly. Vash nods. He strokes himself a few times, then slowly presses his cock against you. 

The two of you moan as he gathers up some of your arousal, coating his dick in it. “Good boy. Now remember to take it slow, let them get used to you.” Wolfwood grunts. Vash holds his breath and pushes the head of his dick against your entrance. You let out a soft cry. 

And then he slides it in.

Slowly. He makes sure to keep eye contact with you, watching your reactions. He looks like he’s about to lose it. His eyes are wide, his jaw slack. He’s making little mewls as he slowly pushes himself inside you. It’s a different feeling than you’re used to, and your body trembles as you slowly adapt to it. He bottoms out finally and the both of you are on the verge of tears. It’s almost emotional. “So fucking good.” Wolfwood mumbles from the side, and you clench around Vash. 

“I-I Need to- Sunshine can I please-” Vash chokes out. You nod and whisper out a yes. He begins moving right away, pulling back to salm himself inside you. He hunches over you, and you drape your arms over his shoulder, pulling him against you. Your legs wrap around his torso. His hands rest on either side of your head. He leans his head down, his hair tickling the side of your head.

“Oh, Oh!”     

Each movement makes you want to scream louder and louder as Vash splits you open. He fucks you like it’s destiny. Like he’ll never be able to do it again even. It’s sloppy, and inexperienced, but it feels so good. It’s rushed, but perfect. 

“Just like that, Blondie.” Wolfwood moans from the side. His presence makes it feel all the more dirty. It makes your body heat up. Vash lets out a soft hiss, his movements becoming more sporadic. He’s close, you know he is. Wolfwood knows he is too. “You gonna cum? Gonna cum inside them?” The man asks Vash, who whines and nods. There’s sweat dripping off of his forehead, and his body seems to glow. 

Wolfwood’s words are enough to start pushing you over the edge as well. You claw at Vash desperately, and he quickens his pace. It hits you just right. “Oh my god!” You yell out. “Vash– I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna–”

“Come on Blondie give em what they want–”

Vash whimpers out a soft “Oh”.            

His cock throbs as he cums inside you. You throw your head back and yell out his name as you reach your orgasm too. Your nails dig into his shoulders, Vash groaning as you come on his cock. Beside you, Wolfwood curses and you can only assume the man has reached his end as well. Vash’s movements slow to a stop, and all that’s left is the three of you panting.

When Vash pulls out, you whimper at the loss. He looks down at you and smiles. “I love you.” he mumbles before he drops his head down to give you a soft kiss. You giggle and kiss back. “Love you too.”

“And?” Wolfwood grumbles, slouched over in the chair. Vash smiles and looks over at him. “We love you too, Nick.” He calls over to the man. You nod in agreement. “Damn right you do.”

#wolfwood x reader #vash x reader #vash the stampede x reader #nicholas d wolfwood x reader #vashwood x reader #wolfwood smut #vash smut

[cinnabun-faerie]

Hello me again 💕

I have a little HC request, (I hope I'm doing this right!)

I would love to read how the Scions react to hearing a Bard WoL playing their harp and singing for the first time (I feel it would be hard to hear them during battle) maybe the wol is having a moment on the roof or something and isn't aware they're being listened to :3

(You don't have to do all of them, I'd love to see G'raha and the rest, your favourites to write for)

Also thank you so much for writing them gender neutral 💕

A/N: Here's your request! I had it written in a notebook behind others ^-^

Scions reaction to hearing a Bard WoL playing their harp and singing for the first time

If you weren't aware that she was listening

she would remain quiet to listen

she might approach you but to do nothing but sit next to you.

should you break the silence, she would be curious of what you were playing and ask you

she might even feign hurt that you never told that you could play this good

He wouldn't hesitate to listen and praise you

he had no shame

he wanted to ask you how long you've been playing for

he would only ask you more as you played

he might even take you up on an offer if you asked him if he wanted to learn

He would lean against the wall and listens with his eyes closed

he simply enjoyed your music

once you are finished, he would take your hand and softly praise you

He would be so excited to hear you play!

he would want to ask you a bunch of things but he wouldn't want to interrupt your playing

he would wait at least until you are done

"Will you play another? Perhaps I could accompany you with vocals?"

He listens from the shadows

he could understand/learn how you feel from how you play

it was so personal and emotional

he couldn't find it in himself to interrupt you

He would approach the sound, curious of where it comes from

once he realizes that it is you who is playing the beautiful music, he will sit and read while listening as to not disturb you

he could always approach you about it later

for now, he would let your music feel the night and his soul

She would quietly acknowledge you

silently moving to sit near you

she is enjoying your music too much to interrupt you

when you stop, she looks back at you.

"Don't stop on my account. I came only to listen."

when you resume, she taps her foot and reads

#ffxiv #ffxiv reactions #alphinaud leveilleur #alisaie leveilleur #estinien varlineau #g'raha tia #thancred waters #urianger augurelt #y'shtola rhul

[killingdove]

immortally wounded ➳ — (h.g. & a.b.)

PAIRING: haurchefant greystone x gender neutral!wol (ft. aymeric de borel x gender neutral!wol)

GENRE(S): angst, hurt no comfort, drabble

WORD COUNT: 1.0k

CONTENT WARNINGS: heavensward spoilers, major character death, implied suicide

A/N: ...so the vault huh

ao3 mirror

You should’ve died.

With your fists trembling at your sides, you throw your head back, baring your throat to the heavens. The ache in your beating heart does not hold a candle to the ache left behind by the anguished wail that claws its way out of your chest.

It should’ve been you.

The heavens make no indication of hearing you.

If only…

A half sob follows, then–

Anger.

It settles deep, a blooming that reaches the apex of your next sorrowful cry to the skies of Coerthas above. You vaguely wonder if he can hear you from Halone’s halls.

To have your other half torn asunder so suddenly leaves you broken, a lance having pierced you straight through your heart much like his shield.

If only you weren’t in the way.

Saltine tears drop from your glassy eyes into the snow below, his gravestone and shield doing little to comfort you. Resting your forehead against the cold surface of the slab of stone, you can feel your soul yearn for what you’ve lost. From what Aymeric had taken from you.

The anger seethes, burns, forming an unyielding grasp around your quivering frame. It was Aymeric that had indirectly orchestrated the downfall of your beloved, it was Aymeric that tore, tore, tore away at what you thought was the inseparable tie that had bound you once to your beloved.

The bastard laid in bed with you that evening. His apologetic kisses left nothing but disdain in their wake. But you couldn’t deny what Count Fortemps had seen in the young commander. An uncanny resemblance to your dear Haurchefant.

You wonder what cruel trick of fate this was.

Looking past the dark curls and striking dual blue hues, you saw what you had once fallen in love with. And that was precisely what kept you tethered to the sheets, fists twisted in them as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear with remorse in deep blues that reminded you all too much of him. You moan and keen, but naught was for the man above you, this he knew.

But that didn’t stop him from loving you.

And love you he did— he was every bit the picturesque lover, attentive, kind, endearing with a heart of blinding gold. Haurchefant was no different. You figure if you closed your eyes, you could fool yourself into loving a man that you had once came home to.

You knew this would hurt him, but that pain would be nothing compared to the one you felt when a hand you had traced the palm lines of and tenderly squeezed many times before grew cold and lifeless in your own.

—

The sun sets in Ishgard again, and with it, your eyes did for one last time.

It was Aymeric that had found you.

Your hair sprawled on the ground reminded him so much of that of an angel’s halo. Your peaceful countenance was no longer streaked with the tears Aymeric had time and time brushed away with the touch of a sinner seeking repentance.

For the second time that waning moon, he felt despair and ice filled his veins. His mouth parted to call your name, to shout, to do anything other than gawk and tremble like the fingers that cradled your face.

The Lord Commander was not often rendered speechless and shocked to the core. Your name eventually emerges as a questioning whisper from the churning depths of his stupor, and the color drains from his complexion.

No.

This couldn’t be…

But there you were. Silent, motionless. Unresponsive to his screams and shaking.

He checks for any hopeful sign of a pulse before burying his face into the crook of your neck, sobs wracking his body as incessant apologies interspersed with hiccups and tremors tumble out of his lips while his worst fears are confirmed.

Why?

The inquiry directed towards Hydaelyn echoes within his mind but there is no one to respond. His gloved fists crumple into your clothing.

Whywhywhy?

It wasn’t supposed to be this way…

Aymeric couldn’t fathom it, wrap his clever head around it. It’d be a lifetime before he’d glean an answer, he reckons.

He stands, holding your fragile, limp body bridal-style, his expression a tumultuous display of emotion.

A familiar, blonde-haired figure awaits him at the foot of the Pillars, the descent feeling like an eternity without you. When Lucia catches sight of your cold body nestled within warm arms, she stands with eyes wide and mouth agape, realization dawning on her sharp features.

Aymeric’s armored footfalls come to a standstill at the bottom step. He raises his gaze to meet his subordinate’s.

“The Warrior of Light is dead.”

–

There was a unanimous agreement that you should be buried next to your true lover you had loved in your waking moments. Both of you overlooked Coerthas as Aymeric kneels, eyes shut. A fresh bouquet of you and Haurchefant’s favorite flora lies betwixt your tombstones.

There was no well in all of Eorzea that would hold all the grief and guilt the knight harbored for both a fallen comrade and the light of his life.

But alas, he couldn’t very well give into his heartsickness when the Dragonsong War remained at large and Nidhogg’s vengeance and thirst for Ishgardian blood still posed a threat. It was a Temple Knight’s duty to soldier on and carry out the will of the dearly departed that had died for the cause that had once united them.

These wounds of his would never truly heal in full, immortally afflicted as he was, but it is with honor that he continues the fight in both of your names. Aymeric just wished Eorzea’s two brightest lights weren’t snuffed out so soon and that the dolor doesn’t succeed in pulling him under.

“Come, Lucia,” Aymeric calls out. She nods in response, waiting for the commander to lead the way before trailing after him. The trek back was one of silence, rumination, and regret.

Ishgard felt darker and colder in the Warrior of Light and the Silver Fuller’s absence, he thinks to himself.

#ffxiv x reader #ff14 x reader #angst #ffxiv angst #haurchefant x wol #haurchefant greystone x wol #haurchefant x reader #haurchefant greystone x reader #aymeric x wol #aymeric de borel x wol #aymeric de borel x reader #aymeric x reader #gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n

[tainbocuailnge]

German Dark Knight quests

This is an English translation of the German script for the level 45 and 50 dark knight quests (and some extra bits at the end), meant as a supplement to the translation of the Japanese script found in this and this post showcasing the large differences between Japanese and English Fray’s characterisation. Since haillenarte mentioned in their posts that the German script usually stays closer to the Japanese script than the English script does, and I can’t read Japanese but can read German, I decided to check out the German version and translate it for comparison.

UPDATE: Please check out my translation website! I have the entire dark knight questline translated on there, including an updated translation of what’s in this post, as well as many other scenes from the rest of the game.

Since the English script is already in the other posts I won’t put it in here too, but I will separate it into the same blocks as the other posts for ease of comparison. I’m also sticking to gender neutral pronouns for the WoL, though German is a highly gendered language so all the screenshots of the German script will reflect me playing as a male au ra. It’s been a hot minute since I formally studied German so if you spot any glaring mistakes by all means correct me!

Level 45 quest - What must be said

Fray: It’s your life and it ends again every minute... I’ve been thinking again about what you told me about the voice. Fray: Someone is trying to get through to you. Someone who needs your protection. But we don’t know any more. Fray: We have to perform another ritual as soon as possible. Maybe that will give us a clue about who the voice belongs to. Fray: After all, the voice resonates within your heart. Do you have someone you want to protect? More than anyone else? Fray: ...Sorry. I don’t feel very well lately... I’m alright. I’m just a bit tired. Fray: So, when you’re ready, we’ll perform the next ritual. Fray: Show me what you’ve learned. I’ll wait for you at Moraby Drydocks.

Fray: Do you remember? The sea... Fray: I told you before that I went on a journey once. With someone who... A terrible danger awaited us at sea. Fray: I wanted to stop them. But we’d already drifted too far apart. There was no stopping them from getting on that damn boat. Fray: It was like I was dying. They were the person I wanted to protect more than anything in the world. But my words didn't get through to them. That's why I'm...

???: What’s that? Isn’t the Maelstrom there to help us? ...I’m in need, goddammit! Styrnlona: The Maelstrom isn’t responsible for that. You should turn to the Yellowjackets when reporting something like stolen wares. Demanding dealer: The Yellowjackets... Before they get around to my case my newborn son will be an experienced sailor! Perhaps even admiral! Styrnlona: Hey, you! Aren’t you [your rank at the Maelstrom] [Name]?

Strynlona: You did us all a great favour when you defeated the primal Leviathan. The citizens of Limsa Lominsa are forever grateful. Demanding dealer: Whaaaat? There’s a real hero standing before me! Demanding dealer: You’re a godsend. I’m in a real bind and need help. Demanding dealer: A nasty Qiqirn has stolen all my wares! [cry] What do I tell my clients? [sob] I’m going to lose my good name as trader! [sniff] Fray: Do you remember what I told you last time? You can’t help everyone. You can’t carry all the world’s suffering on your shoulders. Fray: The Yellowjackets will take on his case soon enough. You should worry about your training as a dark knight instead and find a worthy opponent. There’s more important things at stake... Demanding dealer: Don’t leave me high and dry! If you don’t help me, no-one will!

>Yes, or nobody will help him.

Demanding dealer: You’re truly a hero! Thank you! Demanding dealer: The Qiqirn that stole my wares has to be some kind of leader or chief... It’s bigger and stronger than the others.

>No, I can’t help everyone.

Demanding dealer: But... didn’t you just say you were looking for worthy opponents? Demanding dealer: The Qiqirn that stole my wares is a real big guy! Bigger and stronger than the others. A leader or chief, I would say.

Demanding dealer: I saw it walking towards the salt strand, the Qiqirn have a camp there. Please bring my wares back! Fray: It always ends like this... When nobody wants to help, the heroes have to go... You'll never become a dark knight like this.

Fray: Cut that thieving Qiqirn down to size. Doesn’t matter how pathetically it begs for mercy. It shouldn’t have stolen the merchant’s wares... Fray: We’ll use the opportunity to prepare the next ritual. Show me everything you’ve learned as a dark knight.

[Duty battle dialogue] Fray the Dark: There’s quite a lot of them... This’ll be a right bloodbath. Fray the Dark: Now we just need to get the wares! Fray the Dark: The wares are definitely in this chest...

Fray: We... have the wares... [groan] Bring them to the merchant... [huff] Fray: Me? I’m just a bit... exhausted... [groan]. Go ahead, I’ll be right behind you... Fray: Bring it to an end...

Demanding dealer: Hello, hero! Do you have my wares? Demanding dealer: Yes, that’s the stuff! Thank you, thank you. Let’s see if everything is there. Demanding dealer: Nooooo! In llymlaen’s name, I can’t sell these like this! Demanding dealer: Those Qiqirn put their dirty hands all over everything! I can’t offer this to my customers! Or even worse, they’ll demand a discount! Demanding dealer: What should i do? It’s the end for me! I’m ruined! I can say goodbye to that vacation in Costa del Sol... Demanding dealer: I know! I’ve got a hero standing right in front of me! You’ll deliver me new wares in a snap! Demanding dealer: The skin of a dangerous monster... A treasure from a trap-filled ruin... A lock of hair from a primal...

Fray: ENOUGH!! Fray: Does it ever end? Is Eorzea populated entirely by children? Can nobody do anything on their own anymore? Does everyone have to keep begging the heroes for help? Fray: [Name] is also just a [your race]! With their own feelings and interests. Axe blades and thunder magic also hurt them! Nobody thinks about that, huh? Fray: We keep fighting for other people... Like back then, at open sea, against that watery primal... Fray: “We’re not chosen! Let the chosen one fight!” - Pah, you’re just hiding behind those words! What are you doing for Eorzea anyway? Fray: If you lot didn’t keep bringing in your troublesome business [Name] would’ve long since been a more experienced dark knight! Ugh, for real!

Demanding dealer: Who just blows their lid like that? I’m terribly sorry, adventurer... Styrnlona: What the... [Maelstrom rank] [Name], your anger isn’t entirely unfounded, but... Styrnlona: ...A short walk sounds like the right thing to cool your head. Have a good day.

Fray: That just had to be said. Don’t you think? Fray: Seriously, such an ungrateful lot...

>All that matters is the voice.

Fray: Right, the voice. You can’t ignore it. That would mean ignoring your own existence. Fray: I even know who the voice belongs to... Fray: But I can’t tell you who it is. You have to find out yourself. Fray: Well, let’s continue. Stick your hand out...

>I want to become a real dark knight as soon as possible.

Fray: You’re already a real dark knight, [Name]. The dark power, that’s real. Fray: But remember what I told you in the Brume? That you have to face your feelings if you want to walk the path of the dark knight - if you want to survive it? Fray: You’re not at the goal yet. There’s a place in your heart you still haven’t reached. But the voice will help you with that. Fray: Well, let’s continue. Stick your hand out...

>You’re completely right. It had to be said.

[Fray makes a surprised gesture] Fray: You also think I’m right? That’s great, [Name]! Fray: I know it’s not in your nature to lash out like that. But you can rest easy leaving that to me. Fray: I’m glad you’re finally realizing it... Fray: More important right now is that you find out who the voice belongs to. And what its true meaning is. Stick your hand out...

???: The weak call for you, [Name]. As they always do. ???: They call, they scream, they wail... So loud that you can’t hear your own voice... The pain... The anger... The sadness... Nobody wants to hear about those. ???: But you. You will listen to it. ???: You hear my prayers.

Fray: [Name]. Fray: You heard the voice, right? Fray: You don’t have to tell me what you heard. But I’ll ask you one thing: Are you prepared to give up everything to answer that voice? Fray: Your status, your fame, your fortune - everything? Only after losing everything will we have the freedom to do everything. If you’re willing to do that, then... come with me! Leave this Eorzea! Fray: Here you will never be able to fulfil your purpose. To be truly free. Here you will forever have to concern yourself with others. But if you turn your back on Eorzea - you can go your own way. Fray: You don’t have to answer right now. Meet me at the usual place when you’re ready. I’ll wait for you.

Level 50 quest - The knights’ core

Fray: [Name]... There you are again. I was already expecting you. Fray: ...Ugh... We don't have much time left. We have to travel again soon... Or it'll be too late. Fray: Too late for you... You don't understand it yet, but I want to help you. I'm starting to doubt whether you're really prepared... But we'll see. Fray: We'll meet at the Gates of Judgement. Call my name and I'll come.

???: That voice! Isn't that [Sir/Lady] [Name]? The hero of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn? Brave knight: Forgive me. I belong to Lord Drillemont's troops from Whitebrim Fort. Everyone in my regiment knows your name. Brave knight: It can't be a coincidence that I meet you here. It's the Fury's work! She wants you to help us. Nervous knight: A bit to the south from here lives a crowd of Gigas. They've been showing themselves in the region increasingly often and frequently raid caravans. It’s likely they intend to expand their territory. Nervous knight: The troops at Whitebrim Fort are well armed, but the Gigas are numerous and better suited to the cold than us. Nervous knight: They're better organised than other Gigas too. If we can disable their commander their advances will likely cease for now. Brave knight: Indeed. Our commander underestimates the danger and refuses to send troops. Please, won't you help us and hunt down the Gigas commander? Coeus the Loudmouthed, they call the beast. Then our problems will be solved.

Durendaire knights: Please help us. Durendaire knights: What could be more important? Please help us! Nervous knight: Thank you! You’re a hero! Brave knight: We believe we have a trail. Follow us!

Fray: That’s enough.... That’s.... ENOUGH!!!

Brave knight: That’s the place. We believe Coeus the Loudmouthed will come through the pass. Did I mention he’s always accompanied by his two bodyguards? They of course also have to be defeated. Brave knight: Keep watch a little further down the pass. The leader of the Gigas won’t be long. May the Fury preserve you!

Brave knight: You’ve defeated the Gigas’ leader! Thank Halone and you! Brave knight: That should stop their advance. We can easily deal with the few remaining unorganised Gigas. And if not, we know who we can ask. Brave knight: You have our thanks. We will inform Lord Drillemont of your deeds. Brave knight: And our comrades will hear of your heroic deeds too! They’ll all look up to you, if they don’t already. Brave knight: The troops at Whitebrim Fort can use any boost to morale they can get. Your willingness to help us will bring new courage. Brave knight: That reminds me... Could you perhaps autograph my shield? My name is...

???: March, march! Return to base immediately! Brave knight: What happened? Why the rush? Capable knight: Orders from above. Lord Drillemont heard that we’re working with [Name] and ordered us to return immediately. With them in custody, in fact. Brave knight: In custody? What’s the meaning of this? Capable knight: There have been... accusations. People are saying they’ve been spotted in the Brume... speaking with the corpse of a convicted heretic. Capable knight: I don’t believe it of course, but we both know how serious such accusations are.

Brave knight: Surely someone is trying to play us for fools... I mean, speaking with a corpse? Do they take us for idiots? Capable knight: Have you heard the accusations, [Sir/Lady]? They... have a certain weight, since they come from Temple Knights. Capable knight: It might be necessary... Ah, purely as a formality of course... To ask you to remove your weapon.

Fray: Ha, ha! “Remove my weapon”? After what happened in Ul’dah? Are they out of their minds?

Fray: Tomorrow will be the best day in your life, [Name]. Your breakfast will taste better than any meal you’ve ever had. Fray: That is, when you finally manage to look the truth in the eye. [Name], get ready for the evacuation of your soul...

Fray: You know already. You know whose voice speaks in your heart. You know who has to shoulder more suffering than anyone else in the world... You know who you have to save! Fray: Don’t act so surprised. Of course Fray was stone dead, right from the start. But you wanted it to be different. Fray: A sword, a crystal... All that was missing was a teacher. So you made yourself one. Fray: The soul crystal of the Dark Knight, in which all his experiences were stored. Your aether and repressed feelings... The pain that you locked deep inside your heart... All that suffering that you have to endure as a hero.... The fear that the Champion of Eorzea is not allowed to show... Those are the ingredients from which you made a new Fray. Fray: A mentor who could show you the feelings slumbering in your heart. Who could express these feelings for you, like you never could. Fray: You still don’t want to believe it, but you can’t deny it. You can’t deny what we have achieved. Fray: Haven’t I been good to you? I’ve given you a choice that none of your so-called friends ever gave you. Your so-called friends in the Scions or the Eorzean Alliance. Fray: The choice to say no. To not help. To think of yourself. To save yourself. I’ve given your innermost desire to say no a voice, and made sure you heard it too. Fray: Open your eyes! Look at me! Are you seeing it now? I... am you!

[Fray takes on your name] [Name]: Everything that happened until now was your story... [Name]: ...And everything that happens from now on is mine!

[Duty battle dialogue] Dark shadow: Fight me! As hard as you can! You can’t kill me, no matter how hard you try. Dark shadow: You can’t defeat me. I’m a part of you. Drillemont: [Name], I’ll help you! You helped us in our greatest time of need too. Dark shadow: Help them? Bet they’ll have to save you again?

Dark shadow: I... we were so close...

Dark shadow: That is exactly the problem! Dark shadow: Do you even know how ridiculous this struggle must look to the others? Dark shadow: Free yourself from the pain!

[Battle over] [Name]: After a battle everything else in life is turned down in comparison - you can deal with anything. [Name]: I made you strong. I have... given you all your strength... [Name]: Recognise the irony of your existence: Your strength is the cause of your pain. It makes you a hero, and as a hero you’re doomed to suffer.

Knight: [Name]! We’re with you! Cenota: [Name]! Believe in yourself! Believe in us! Clotairion: We know who you really are. Don’t forget that!

[Name]: They stand at your side... while you carry their pain. [Name]: But that’s what you want, isn’t it? You want to suffer. You’re always looking for someone whose pain you can carry. That’s your nature. [Name]: The nature of a dark knight. It’s your fate. Nobody will ever do it better than you... [Name]: You seek this pain. You seek that suffering. [Name]: You’ve brought the last offering. So take this reward... [Name]: [Name]... [Name]: [Name]... I’m the part of you incapable of being a hero. Hide me. Deep in your heart. [Name]: I will speak to you again. Because I know you’re stronger than me.

[Name]: What belongs together comes together. [Name]: I’ll return back into you and give you the power to protect the world. I’ll cry your tears. I’ll carry your burden. I’ll be your rage. [Name]: Let’s go on a journey together again.

Capable knight: We have you back, Halone be praised! For a moment there I thought we’d lost you to your innermost demons. Capable knight: I don’t really understand what happened here, but Lord Drillemont doesn’t seem too angry. Fortunately nobody was permanently injured... Capable knight: First up I’ll make sure Fray’s body is given an appropriate burial. Capable knight: And you? Are you sure everything is okay? You were a little... confused. But what am I implying... Forgive me, my lord. And farewell.

Notes and commentary:

"Das ist dein Leben und es endet jede Minute aufs Neue” is a quote from the German dub of Fight Club apparently, though I never watched it in any language so I have no idea what the context is.

German has formal and informal pronouns, but the only character in these quests to use formal pronouns for your character is the capable knight. That said, everyone still speaks fairly politely to you except Fray, who speaks so casually to everyone it crosses into being rude and overly familiar.

Personally I like German Fray a lot. They feel like the best of both worlds, keeping the emotional vulnerability of Japanese Fray while adding some of the bitter anger English Fray has. They also have a certain awkwardness to them that is really endearing, and which I’m not sure really comes across in just these two quests even with the lame breakfast oneliner. The lv35 quest has this exchange which I really like.

>That voice I heard. Who is speaking to me? >Why were you being accused by the High Tribunal anyway? Hmmm? -->Wild playing and endangering the elderly - shouldn’t that be punished severely? (This is the excuse the temple knights used to take away the old woman’s granddaughter)

Fray: R-really? But things like that just happen when kids play... Fray: A-haha, I get it! You made a joke! You really got me there. Seriously though, what do you want to ask me?

What stood out to me about German Fray next to the English one (and my limited knowledge of the Japanese one) is that they’re a bit of a jokester, though it doesn’t really show in the last two quests because they’re getting desperate. When you free the prisoners from the Amal’jaa in the lv40 quest duty, the enemy yells “You’ll pay for this with your blood!” and Fray responds “Send me an invoice!”

There’s also the exchange with Fray when you learn what happened to the old woman whose grandchild was taken in the lv30 quest, which in English goes like this

Fray: They might spare the girl, you know. Leave her with a few scars and a lifelong lesson. Fray: ...Or, we could beat every single one of them within an ilm of their lives and rescue the girl. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? [You nod, and Fray smiles] Fray: I knew you would.

and in German goes like this

Fray: Are you the dark knight that will stand up for this old woman? Think about it carefully, since it might cost you your head. Fray: Think about the enemies you’re facing, and the wounds they will inflict on you. Think about how you could just turn around and go lie in a warm bed, and nobody would suspect you. [You nod, and Fray smiles] Fray: I feared as much.

In the Japanese and English versions (and French, since French drk is just a direct translation of the English one) the original Fray legitimately lost his trial by combat, but in the German version the trial was rigged. The Ishgardian Citizen describes how Fray was winning until Halone herself struck him down with a pillar of fire - someone in the audience mumbled that it looked suspiciously like a Flare spell cast from the direction of the jury, but naturally the citizen immediately reported that heretic to the inquisition for doubting Halone’s judgement. The reason I even read the German version was because I got mad about translators making some shit up wholesale, but I have to admit I do like this particular thing that translators made up wholesale.

It also turns out Fray writing in the quest journal is unique to the English version! I really missed their commentary when I checked the German journal and it just wasn’t there. Another win for making shit up wholesale I suppose.

I’ve been told the scripts for different languages of the game are written concurrently rather than first in Japanese and then translated, so it’s not entirely fair to claim any one of them as the original that the others are unfaithful translations of. Even if that’s the case I still don’t think the different language scripts should be so wildly different in meaning from each other, but putting that aside I do like having these varying takes on Fray to rotate in my head and I wouldn’t have any complaints if the way they were implemented was through supplementary material like short stories or a manga or something.

I also think each version of Fray has something good going for them, and that they become better when put next to each other. I like how the English script has even your repressed feelings be so repressed that they cling to their front of smug superiority and righteous anger until the very end, and only manage to really express themselves in the journal where nobody would ordinarily look. I like Japanese Fray spilling their whole entire heart out and sounding permanently on the verge of crying from how desperate they are despite their imposing appearance. And my personal favourite is German Fray for how much they feel like genuinely just a regular person who’s in too deep and has no choice but to keep doing what they think is best.

#ffxiv #fray #fray myste #dark knight #translation

[ffxivaltaholic]

LFRP: Diarmune Rhet-Khas

Character Name: Diarmune Rhet-Khas

The Basics ––– –

Age: 55

Birthday: End of Summer

Race: Viera

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Pansexual

Marital Status: Single

Physical Appearance ––– –

Hair: Quite long and silvery white. It is almost always pulled up in a ponytail. When down it is long enough to sit on (Hence why it is always up)

Eyes: Pale Green

Height: 6"1'

Build: Athletic and fit

Distinguishing Marks: Minimal scars from years of working with dangerous plants and animals. Two sleeves tattooed in a vine and floral pattern with a flower on his shoulder.

Common Accessories: His Gleaner gear, a journal, some kind of plant or flower probably...

Personal ––– –

Profession: Gleaner

Hobbies: Botany and Horticulture

Languages: Common (With a Thavnarian accent)

Residence: Thavnair/Sharlayan

Birthplace: Thavnair

Religion: The Twelve

Relationships ––– -

Spouse: None

Children: None

Parents: Father: Elías- Alive/Silk Maker | Mother: Myra - Alive/Tailoress

Siblings: Sister (Older Twin): Sofina - Alive/Student | Sister (Younger Twin): Helina - Alive/Student

Other Relatives: None that he knows of.

Pets: Korpokkur (Named Plum), Great Morbol (Named Dahlia)

Traits ––– -

* Bold your character’s answer.

Extroverted / In Between / Introverted

Disorganized / In Between / Organized

Close Minded / In Between / Open Minded

Calm / In Between / Anxious

Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable

Cautious / In Between / Reckless

Patient / In Between /  Impatient

Outspoken / In Between / Reserved

Leader / In Between / Follower

Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic

Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic

Traditional / In Between / Modern

Hard-working / In Between / Lazy

Cultured / In Between / Uncultured

Loyal / In Between / Disloyal 

Faithful / In Between / Unfaithful

Additional information ––– –

Smoking Habit:  Nope Drugs: None Alcohol: Very rarely, he is quite a light weight and suffers terrible hangovers.

RP Hooks ––– –

SHARLAYAN: While much of the Viera's time is spent away, he does return to his Sharlayan home from time to time, whether it's to bring in a specimen or to simply visit with old friends, he is not to difficult to find there, particularly as his clothing tends to standout against the more conservative and neutral tones of his Sharlayan counterparts. As a significant contributor in his field of study to the vast library over his three decades of work, Dia is most likely found there, but also will peruse the market and visit Labyrinthos from time to time. Especially if any of his projects are flourishing.

THAVNAIR: Born and raised in Thavnair, Dia spent his entire youth there with his family. They are prominent silk makers and tailors, specializing in ornate and delicate garments. He's very familiar with the locals and after the panic of the End of Days subsided, Dia visits far more frequently. He's often found in the Radz-at-han market, out by Palaka's Stand, or in the silk factory pitching in to help his parents. A Thavnarian born, he has an identifiable accent and tends to wear garments that connect him to his home.

GLEANERS: Are you a Gleaner too? Then there is a good chance you have crossed paths with him at some point in time, especially over the years of intense gathering in preparation for the End of Days. Due to the nature of his work (Specifically in regards to dangerous plants and plant-like creatures, IE: Morbols) it's very likely your Character might work side by side with him, or at least in the same vicinity.

TRAVELS/IN PASSING: There are very few places on this grand shard that Dia has not been, which means his availability to meet people is vast and ever expanding! Perhaps you came across him at an Inn, or aboard a ship? Maybe you met him in one of the main cities, or out in the boonies of the continents... Regardless, Dia can be basically anywhere necessary to meet your character. (Note: Not the First however, I'm fairly lore strict on this point since only the WoL can freely travel back and forth at this point in the story and he is not a WoLPC.)

Contact Information  ––– –

I would prefer to be contacted via Tumblr first before giving out my Discord.

In game and Discord RP works for me, though I prefer in game.

His Carrd: https://diarmune.carrd.co/

#ffxiv lfrp #Looking for rp #Diarmune Rhet-khas