For those who don't have an AO3 account and want to read this, here's links to all 4 chapters on Ellipsus!!!
#silvawrites ※ #wolhien ※ #wolxwol ※ #ffxivwriting
Ch1: ellipsus.com/read/4Zf1rj3...
Ch2: ellipsus.com/read/1SfajQR...
Ch3: ellipsus.com/read/2jG7yuL...
Ch4: ellipsus.com/read/4FG15r9...
A picture of a partly cloudy sky painted in the colors of sunset; pretty shades of light blue, pink, and peach. On the right side and upper left corner are leafy trees entering the frame, with three birds in flight between them. Fanfiction title: Scars and Sunshine Final Fantasy XIV | Explicit
A picture of a partly cloudy sky painted in the colors of sunset; pretty shades of light blue, pink, and peach. On the right side and upper left corner are leafy trees entering the frame, with three birds in flight between them. Text Box: Silva Cataracta has always been uncomfortable sharing the story of how she received the scars on her back and openly displaying them for others to see, even if it's been a little over two years since that ill-fated day. The trauma from the near-fatal encounter is still too present in her soul. The pain they still cause her is only a reminder of weakness. How ugly and deep the marks are. But when Hien accidentally stumbles upon Silva resting in her and Ricmorn's shared room in the Doman Enclave with the old wounds on full display, she realizes there is no point in avoiding the subject any longer with him, now that they’re courting. She and Ricmorn take some time to tell him the tale behind them, and he, in turn, offers the shy woman comfort she never expected. A reminder that she is more than the scars decorating her skin — that they and she are beautiful. Always.
Scars and Sunshine ☀️
#silvawrites ※ #wolhien ※ #wolxwol ※ #ffxivwriting [Hien/Silva/Ricmorn]
50.2k, 4 Chapters, Explicit, Mind the tags (NSFW scenes in Chapters 3 and 4 with Silva/Hien.)
Hien learns about the story of the scars on Silva's back.
🔗: archiveofourown.org/works/822283...
Chapter 21
You’re summon to Radz-at-Han for an important matter.
#ffxiv #ff14 #ffxivfic #ffxivwriting #vrtra
archiveofourown.gay/works/699917...
"Ser Okhuna seems upset." And, yes, of course he is, poor man the last of his kind, the last of the liars. A Qestir born with a mouth to speak and a heart with desire and drive to do so. Convinced he was born a traitor, he walks in quest of salvation, of penance. "Penance? Without penitence? Why, is that not a performance?" Another lie indeed, begging the question: Can he feel anything at all?
But of course he can, though it's not so simple as sorrow. It's not so simple as grief or hatred-(of those he feels plenty). It's a coiling rage in the pit of his stomach, ice cold, a tampering of emotions, dull eyes to mask how badly he wants to scream, to lash out. This is a broken way for a pacifist to be. This is not the heart of a healer. "Ser Okhuna, are you sure you were not a Dotharl?" Do not laugh as such. He would never have been those, those brightly-lit warriors clad in the moon. He would have never longed for a painful death, for what's more painful than drowning?
No, if one were to place this little lost bluebird in a clan at all, if there were no Qestir and no medicine men, I rather think he would be a Chaghan or Mok. "A Chaghan of peace?" Certainly not. He would ravage his soul for a taste of righteous blood, for a vengeance he knows will never, ever come in his current body. The Qestir healer, the mediator, cannot wish for a painful death on the reaper who harmed him. But he can certainly, certainly, imagine it.
A Mok, potentially, I'm sure he's been asked it before. "Are you a real Oestir, ser One Who Speaks?" He often feels so close in remembrance of death that the memory takes place of his body, walking in a shadow out of time. He often, often, feels lost in a crowded city, silent, devoid of words and color and life. He can hold his breath and imagine himself not here at all, why, what is more mock than one who imagines himself dead? What is a truer deception than the dead in place of life? Perhaps, the answer, in all its simplic|ty: Is a Qestir who speaks, a healer who brings death, a mediator who wishes, above all else, above all wishes, that he could simply have drowned on that day.
(Alt text on each stanza!) I wrote a little free verse poem about Okhuna, an ex-Qestir healer who has a job of performing Sendings (think FF10 Yuna!). He is a sad sad man.
[ #okhuna #qestir #ffxiv #ffxivwriting #poetry #poem #freeverse #xaela #xaelaaura ]
Chapter 20
The way of the fist is with tranquility, focus, and a dragon.
#ffxiv #ff14 #ffxivfic #ffxivwriting #midgardsormr
archive.transformativeworks.org/works/699917...
Chapter 19
Heavensturn
Neigh
#ffxiv #ff14 #ffxivwriting #ffxivfic #midgardsormr
archiveofourown.org/works/699917...
Just a reminder I have shared my writings here ✍️ #ffxivwriting #ffxivwriters
Snippets from MSQ and beyond, through different characters
archiveofourown.org/users/hallan...
Chapter 18
Vrtra decides to wake the WoL up due to a situation.
#ffxiv #ff14 #ffxivwriting #ffxivfic #vrtra #azdaja
archiveofourown.org/works/699917...
Chapter 17
The First Brood celebrate Starlight Celebration, nothing can go wrong.
#ffxiv #ff14 #ffxivwriting #ffxivfic #midgardsormr #tiamat #hraesvelgr #vrtra #azdaja
archiveofourown.org/works/699917...
Chapter 16
Where dost arrow goes, no one knows except the bard
#ffxiv #ff14 #ffxivfic #ffxivwriting #Midgardsormr
archiveofourown.org/works/699917...
Chapter 15
Midgardsormr once again-wait this isn’t Midgardsormr.
#ffxiv #ff14 #ffxivwriting #ffxivfic #Hraesvelgr
archiveofourown.org/works/699917...
Chapter 14
To be a carpenter
#ffxiv #ff14 #ffxivwriting #ffxivfic #midgardsormr #omega #alpha
archiveofourown.gay/works/699917...
Black and white photo of Caius in dark room, collapsed on the floor in a sitting position, staring down at the ground.
Title: Haunted Summary: In the aftermath of a harrowing experience, Caius struggles to separate what is real and what is a nightmare. Estinien is guarding his friend's sleep, being there for support. But the haunting memories persist.
"He did not make it.
He watches his own hand raise a scythe. An executioner ready to strike. "Too late", the monster wearing his face says."
Ficlet, 934 words, rated T
🔗 archiveofourown.org/works/78960596
#ffxivwriting
#storyofcaius
Deleterious
Rael‘s mother certainly was the smartest woman in the world. She was not just versed in the use of herbs and potions but also a very skilled mage and Rael could only hope to one day be as good as a healer as their mother.
[Pre-ARR]
#ffxivwriting
archiveofourown.org/works/780961...
Chapter 13
To be a paladin
#ffxiv #ffxivwriting #ffxivfic #midgardsormr #ff14
archiveofourown.gay/works/699917...
Morsel
A’viloh pushed himself a little more into the corner, as if he could vanish by doing so, and wondered how he once again had gotten himself into trouble although he really really tried not to.
Laqa.
Of course the answer was Laqa.
[Pre-ARR]
#ffxivwriting
archiveofourown.org/works/780961...
Surrogate
"Oh, you poor thing…", she said and picked him up. The warmth of her body surprised the boy and with tears welling up in his eyes again all he wanted to do was to cling to her, pretending she was his mother, and cry until he fell asleep.
[Pre-ARR]
#ffxivwriting
tinyurl.com/2u7u79ut
Family
The first part of A‘viloh‘s origin story
[Pre-ARR]
#ffxivwriting
archiveofourown.org/works/780961...
Mayflies
The very beginning of Rael’s origin story
[Pre-ARR]
archiveofourown.org/works/780961...
#ffxivwriting
✨Writing Thread Part 1✨
As announced here it is!
A thread for all my writing from the very beginning to now.
Additionally to Tumblr all chapters will now also be added to AO3 step by step.
AO3: archiveofourown.org/users/Avirael
Tumblr (using Nuclino as index): tinyurl.com/4cjkp9v4
#ffxivwriting
A small teaser from the current WIP 🤭
#ffxivwriting ✦ #ficwip ✦ #wordgamewednesday
Chapter 11 Midgardsormr goes to Costa del Sol
#ffxiv #ffxivwriting #ffxivfic #midgardsormr #omega #alpha
archiveofourown.org/works/699917...
Chapter 10 Ft one of the First Brood
#ffxiv #ffxivwriting #ffxivfic #midgardsormr #Hraesvelgr
archiveofourown.org/works/699917...
Chapter 9, it was a holiday spooky one for All Saint’s Wake
#ffxiv #ffxivwriting #ffxivfic #midgardsormr
archiveofourown.org/works/699917...
Faith moves mountains 🏔️
Tumblr: shorturl.at/ucxeA
AO3: t1p.de/qr8b7
#KoijiKido • #KoiStory • #FFXIV • #ffxivwriting • #Viera • #AvanuhTia • #SaphirSurlaint
Chapter 8
#ffxiv #ffxivwriting #ffxivfic #midgardsormr
archiveofourown.org/works/699917...
My FFXIV fanfic titled "Lost Children of Doma"and primarily focused on the Stormblood expansion.
archiveofourown.org/works/654427...
#FFXIV
#FFXIVWriting
Artwork by tschxxi Caius and Emet-Selch in dark room, Emet is leaning over Caius with a hand on his neck, eyes glowing. Caius stares back, hand over Emet's hand.
Screenshot from AO3 fic title and summary. How it hurts by hallans Summary: To feel everything and nothing at all. It only takes a moment. A moment of weakness and an echo triggering at the wrong time, memory stolen away. "To come to you willingly, even now I ask for this ache." Emet-Selch PoV
"He needs...needs to tear apart this tender flower now blooming in his hands, robbing away his senses, his breath, his thoughts."
Ficlet, 732 words, rated T
🔗 archiveofourown.org/works/76523406
#ffxivwriting
#ShadowToYourLight
It was over the moment she moved. Her long leg swung over his waist, perfect thighs settling into place on either side of his hips with practiced ease. She placed her wine glass down next to his head where he lay on his back on the rug, the movement betrayed as an excuse to press against him when she didn't sit back up again, her chest pressed against his as she stretched languidly over his body. "Is that so?" He murmured, his hands moving to the narrow taper of her bare waist. She didn't respond, choosing instead to run her fingers absently through the thick tangle of his hair, pushing it back away from his eyes in a movement so familiar it ached. The minor miracle of her body under his hands was something he had been powerless against from the start. Possessive and slow, Aymeric's hands smoothed along her naked skin, across the ridges of her scars up her waist and down the individual notches of her spine. All lithe muscle and slender limbs, the subtle feminine curves of her were more than enough to strike him speechless at the best of times. Here, with her perched above him, her breath against his ear and her hands in his hair, he was malleable clay in her hands. "We were in the middle of a conversation," he reminded her, tilting his head back where he lay so her could catch her eye, the dark glint of intention snapping brightly there. "We were," she agreed, and her deft fingers traced down the angles of his face, along the line of his throat, further downwards over his bare shoulders as though feeling out his thoughts through touch alone. She shifted, just enough, her hips rocking a minuscule amount against him, and was rewarded by the way his breath hitched in his throat. She leaned close, her hair spilling over her shoulder in rippling waves as she pressed her wine-stained lips against the sensitive shell of his ear. Aymeric's eyes fluttered closed at the sensation, but he was achingly alert.
He was achingly alert and awake when she whispered to him in the lost Gelmorran she rarely used, her voice pitched low to catch the pronunciation in her throat. Lover. His hands tightened on her hips, holding her tight against him, heat rising, blood pumping. He turned his head fast enough to catch her lips, coaxing her into a kiss that was languid and open, tasting of wine and spices and promises more than happy to be kept. He spoke in turn, the old Ishgardian rolling off his tongue and onto hers as he murmured into her mouth, possessive and wanting. Wife. Her teeth scraped against his lower lip, and her hips rolled with purpose now, startling a broken gasp out of him that she bit down on just that much harder. One of his hands pressed down her lower back, inching ever lower until his fingers pressed against the end of her tailbone, the beginning of the tempting dipping curves of her, and she arched her spine into the touch, unable to press as close as she needed without crawling into his skin entirely. She threaded her fingers back into his hair, knotted and possessive, and kissed him like she was drowning, warm and open in the flickering firelight. The wineglass nearby sat forgotten as Aymeric's clever fingers eased lower in their journey, forcing the air from her lungs and her thighs to spread open further over him, an invitation he didn't intend to refuse.
something something write drunk edit sober, something something else mods are asleep post nsfw snips
#SwordAndShield #FicSnippet #FFXIV #FFXIVFanfic #FFXIVWriting #Wolmeric
