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pomodoko · 1 year

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Is there any fic recs you wouldn't mind sharing?

For the sake of everyone reading this list (including me), I'll keep the fics I recommend to 5 fics per fandom with their appropriate ratings. Most of these will be gen fics. If you guys want, I'll make another listing for purely M and E rated fics later (only if you ask though!)

Please enjoy!

Pokemon:

Peaks and Valley Adjacent by clefairytea | Ratings: T and G | Relationship: Red/Blue | Total words: 124k+

recollection, retrospection, recognition by ApatheticRobots | Ratings: T | Gen Fic | Total words: 53k+

Intermittent Retention by NeoAsh | Ratings: T | Gen Fic | Total words: 12k+

That's It, It's Split, It Can't Recover by digitalpen | Ratings: T and G| Gen Fic | Total words: 60k+

History Offers Preservation by tiktaaliker | Ratings: G | Gen Fic | Total words: 74k+

MCYT (Hermitcraft & DSMP):

The Coding Conundrum by Pixelfun20 | Ratings: T | Gen Fic | Total words: 130k+

The Parting Glass by Sekrap | Ratings: G | Gen Fic | Total words: 62k+

poet, follow right by cosmelt (isthei) | Ratings: T | Gen Fic | Total words: 3k+

From Darkness by HaroThar | Ratings: M | Gen Fic | Total words: 188k+

pâquerette by thebetterwormy | Ratings: T | Gen Fic | Total words: 15k+

TMNT (Mostly 2012xROTTMNT):

juxtaposition by SpectrumWriting | Ratings: G | Gen Fic | Total words: 13k+

coming right on back for you by taizi | Ratings: T | Gen Fic | Total words: 13k+

Of Leos and Leonardos-verse by Toothlessbored | Ratings: G | Gen Fic | Total words: 50k+

Dimensional Self-Isolation by goldenspecter | Ratings: T | Gen Fic | Total words: 57k+

How to Write Your Own Future: A Work-in-Progress by Casey Jones by Banjkaz, SpitfireRose | Ratings: T | Gen Fic | Total words: 127k+

Ninjago:

Lost Soul by DietCokeIsLife (AO3 version still a WIP) | Ratings: T | Gen Fic | Total words: 84k+

Chips and Salsa by SibillaScribbles08 | Ratings: T | Relationship: Cole/Zane | Total words: 31k+

Meet Again by northpen | Ratings: T | Gen Fic | Total words: 124k+

Nightowls by McFaneLy | Ratings: G | Gen Fic | Total words: 21k+

The Sun Rises Every Single Night by Fabro-de-omres (Fabro) | Ratings: T | Gen Fic | Total words: 25k+

Spider-man:

Safeguard by aloneintherain | Ratings: T | Gen Fic | Total words: 17k+

Support System by aloneintherain | Ratings: T | Gen Fic | Total words: 14k+

Helping Hand by AliciaRoseFantasy | Ratings: T and G | Gen Fic | Total words: 31k+

Jailbird Blues by aloneintherain | Ratings: T | Gen Fic | Total words: 15k+

Just A Face On A Train by katherynefromphilly | Ratings: G | Gen Fic | Total words: 11k+

Into the Spider-verse:

#friendlyneighborhoodspiderpeople by pepperfield | Ratings: T | Gen Fic | Total words: 4k+

It Takes a Village by madain_sari | Ratings: G | Gen Fic | Total words: 4k+

party on tilt by orphan_account | Ratings: G | Gen Fic | Total words: 3k+

City(e)scape by mariadperiad20 | Ratings: Not Rated | Relationship: Peter B/Noir | Total words: 42k+

the family brooklyn by tactfulGnostalgic | Ratings: T | Gen Fic | Total words: 12k+

Naruto:

wild boy, run home by Liatheus | Ratings: T | Gen Fic | Total words: 19k+

Phantom Pains by applepie | Ratings: T | Gen Fic | Total words: 21k+

Ear to the Wall by Vodkassassin | Ratings: Not Rated | Gen Fic | Total words: 89k+

What You Knead by AgentMalkere | Ratings: T | Gen Fic | Total words: 63k+

Year of the Ghost by scrappybook | Ratings: T | Gen Fic | Total words: 145k+

One Piece:

Chasing Flowers by taizi | Ratings: Not Rated | Gen Fic | Total words: 4k+

'Til You Feel it All Around You by Tonko | Ratings: T | Gen Fic | Total words: 55k+

poly philtatos (the most loved by far) by pyknicGinger | Ratings: T | Relationship: Zoro/Luffy | Total words: 24k+

Spin a Yarn by SrirachaBunny | Ratings: T | Relationship: Zoro/Luffy | Total words: 83k+

Merman Verse by Hazel_Athena | Ratings: T | Relationship: Zoro/Sanji | Total words: 73k+

My Hero Academia:

New Management by Blacknovelist | Ratings: G | Gen Fic | Total words: 5k+

Get Mad! by AnonymousTwit | Ratings: T | Gen Fic | Total words: 16k+

2AM Knows All Secrets by Unbreakable_Red_Riot | Ratings: T | Relationship: Bakugou/Kirishima | Total words: 59k+

Quietly by chezka | Ratings: G | Relationship: Bakugou/Kirishima | Total words: 22k+

You know that thing where an orchestra swaps instruments, and like, some of them get it right away, but others have no clue what they're doing? This is that but with quirks, two unwilling participants, and also Emotions by Sif (Rosae) | Ratings: T | Gen Fic | Total words: 13k+

Other Fandoms:

curse.exe by Byacolate, mywordsflyup | Ratings: T | Relationship: Genji/Zenyatta | Total words: 8k+ (Overwatch)

Planting a Hobbit by northerntrash | Ratings: Not Rated | Relationship: Thorin/Bilbo | Total words: 13k+ (The Hobbit)

The Midnight Game by NatRoze | Ratings: T | Relationship: Oikawa/Daichi/Ushiwaka | Total words: 18k+ (Haikyuu!!)

Ethics of Journalism by rosepetals42 | Ratings: T | Relationship: Jack/Bitty | Total words: 12k+ (Check Please!)

Colourless Saitama and his Years of Training by rironomind | Ratings: T and M | Relationship: Saitama/Genos | Total words: 88k+

Crossovers:

A Tale of Spirits by unorthodoxx | Ratings: G | Gen Fic | Total words: 130k+ (ROTTMNT x ATLA)

Guardian Tadashi AU by PitViperOfDoom | Ratings: G | Gen Fic | Total words: 180k+ (Big Hero 6 x Rise of the Guardians)

This Too Shall Pass by skeleton_narration | Ratings: T | Relationship: Dipper/Wirt | Total words: 95k+ (Gravity Falls x Over the Garden Wall)

Ghost in the NYC by ASharksReadingGlasses | Ratings: T and M | Gen Fic | Total words: 252k+ (Danny Phantom x SpideyPool)

My Delivery Route is Full of Mutant Turtles (and Other Reasons Percy Jackson Deserves More Than Minimum Wage) by TakingOverMidnight3482 | Ratings: T | Gen Fic | Total words: 51k+ (Percy Jackson x ROTTMNT)

#long post #fic rec #fanfic recommendation #bnha #rottmnt #tmnt #naruto #one piece #crossover #pokemon #mcyt #spiderman #spiderverse #ninjago #pmdk talks #Anonymous #my ask

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tmos-time · 4 years

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🌻:)

ohoho!! whatever-the-fuck-i-wanna-talk about time!! thank u novel uwu

so currently right now half of my attention is focused on watching the newest season of she-ra, and the other half is thinking about my homestuck dungeon and dragons au?? its fun tbh hehehe

no spoilers about the newest season but!! god scorpia is my fave character i love her dearly and i really should draw her sometime

and as for my dndstuck thing!! i decided recently that for all 12 characters the trolls make, i want to evenly split up the pronouns that everyone uses into four groups of 3! three people have she/her, three have he/him, three have they/them, and three have neopronouns! i want to get some practice with neopronouns, and i also want to give representation for people since the bar is kinda low, yknow?

#sweetanswer #blacknovelist #dont really see too many neopronouns in media so i might as well add them into my own niche writing for if i ever post it!!#and honestly?? might try drawing scorpia as i watch the rest of the season :0 im on episode 9 already lmao

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ameehsalmindspeaka · 5 years

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Live in a house of #abundance, #speaklife into yourself. #PutPen2Paper and #WRITE!!! Start building that foundation. ------******------ #GetTempted #RelatableRealities #EmotionallyRelatableFiction #PWP #PierceWrightPress #authorsofinstagram #author #urbanwriter #blackfiction #blackauthor #lesbiannovelist #blacknovelist #authors #writer @mindspeaka #blackwriter #lesbianwriter #novelist #selfpublished #urbanwriter #blackfiction #selfpromotion #indiepublishing #freshperspective #theblacknwhite #PierceWright #justwrite https://www.instagram.com/p/ByIvR5dBzBM/?igshid=1nua1hl0ru0d4

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skygemspeaks · 5 years

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6 facts game!

I was tagged by the ever amazing and absolutely lovely @them0thprince (seriously go follow them, they will absolutely brighten your dash!!!)

Rules: share 6 random facts about yourself and then tag 10 followers

1) I have dual citizenship for Afghanistan and Canada! I was born in Afghanistan, and moved to Canada when I was 3, so I grew up here and have been a citizen since I was 17

2) I know three languages, and am currently trying to teach myself Japanese. Persian is my mother tongue (specifically the dialect called Hazaragi), English is the language I’m most comfortable in since I grew up in Canada, and last year I started learning ASL in college and am now conversational in it. I hope to become an ASL-English interpreter some day!

3) I’m left-handed, and it actually runs in my family. I got it from my mum, who got it from her dad. I’m really proud of it, though when I was in kindergarten, when my teacher was teaching us how to write and they saw I was left-handed, they actually called my mom to ask if she wanted them to “fix” me. My mum...was not happy about that.

4) The first time I flew on my own (well technically second, since it was on my way home), I was sixteen and was stopped for a “random security check” lmao, yay for being Muslim I guess.

5) I’ve been in fandom for almost ten whole years now, and in that time have archived over 800k words of fanfiction!! Fandom has played such a huge part in my life and has let me meet two of my closest friends (@allthesamesky and @realisticallycynical)

6) I’m obsessed with books and own something like 250 of them (though that’s just an estimate, give or take like 20 or 30 books). About half of those books are currently unread though lol. I’m trying to get through them all, but I can’t help but keep buying more and more.

Okay, well, someone already tagged the irl squad, so they’re out of the picture. But anyways, I’ll tag: @allthesamesky, @realisticallycynical, @blacknovelist, @captainkirkk, @hiddenbyfaeries, @dragon-ly, @rainingskyguy, @proheromidoriyashouto, @autisticmight, @altered-karma and of course anyone else who wants to do it!!!

#tag game #personal #nonfandom

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forgedobsidian · 5 years

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What fic authors, that you've read and in your own opinion, do the best job at providing accurate character representations, story, and emotional feels? Do you have any particular quotes that you've remembered because they were just so good? Any scenes that REALLY made you feel? Sorry for the 800 questions but I want to get back into fic reading, and you seemed like a good blog to ask for some recs

(sorry this took me so long to answer ^^’)

Aaaaa no worries!! I have kinda been in a fic reading slump myself. I’m sorry for how long it took me to get to this ask ^^’ Here’s a few fic authors under the cut (organized by fandom) that I think really nail the characters. Keep in mind that I tend to be fairly selective when it comes to the stuff I like in fics, so what I like might not necessarily be what you want to read. Still, I hope this helps!!

MHA/BNHA

- I honestly cannot recommend the “I Am …” series written by @swiftwidget and @aoimikans enough. It’s a story that follows Toshinori’s capture by AFO and his subsequent experiences. What really sticks for me with this particular saga is the attention given to characterization and healing. There are a lot of different traumas that are handled wonderfully in the series, and they are really adept when it comes to showing how recovery isn’t a straight shot - there’s ups and downs. I’d also recommend checking out their individual accounts for more one-shots - they’re fantastic!!

-Blacknovelist ( @blacknovelist) has a lot of great fics, but I especially enjoy “Star Children” It’s a really gentle, heart-warming fic filled with a lot of quality Dad Might and “the class is a giant family” feels.

- “Human” by end-untold is a really beautiful fic that follows a discussion between Toshinori and Izuku. They talk about, essentially, being asexual and aromantic. It’s a super good fic, and I really appreciate all the tact and effort put into their conversation.

- “Parent-Teacher Meetings” by Quirkless is a Toshinko fic that follows Toshinori and Inko post-Kamino Ward. It’s really beautifully written. What stands out to me about this fic is that it’s not two starry-eyed teenagers falling in love - it’s two adults who have been burned before, and both are tired in their own ways, but with each other they can find healing and growth and family. Also, the attention given to Toshinori’s health and mental state is top-notch, and I really appreciate all the effort that went into the interactions between him and Inko.

- The very first fic I read for MHA/BNHA was “Smile Again” by Sevi007 (@sevi007). It’s a super good examination of how Toshinori handles losing OFA after Kamino Ward. It’s sad, yes, but what sticks with me from this fic is the gentle way healing is handled and the absolutely amazing way the familial relationship between Izuku and Toshinori is written.

STAR WARS

- I would be extremely remiss in my Star Wars recs if I didn’t mention Mina1′s “Equally Cursed and Blessed.” It is a legitimately breathtaking fic that goes AU after “The Empire Strikes Back” and is full of good father-son moments between Vader and Luke. It’s very well-written, and there’s a moment towards the end where Palpatine accuses Vader of not knowing what to do with freedom, since he’s been a slave for so long, and Vader just says something along the lines of, “I’ll figure it out,” and it’s AMAZING. Honestly this fic was one of the first that really showed me what could be done with fanfiction, all the different ways the plot and characters could go. It’s so, so good. Their other fics are good too, but “Equally Cursed and Blessed” is absolutely amazing.

- Literally anything written by @fialleril is amazing, honestly, but there’s a special spot in my heart for their “Double Agent Vader” AU. It’s a super delightful fic series where Vader joins the Rebellion as a double agent several years after things go down on Mustafar. It’s rife with amazing interactions between Leia and Vader (who don’t know about their blood relation) and wonderful world building. It’s a series with a lot of heart that showcases the power of stories, which I’m always a sucker for. Their other fics are fantastic too, with a lot of world building (literally - Tatooine will never look the same) and just generally really cool Star Wars stuff.

GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY

- @sevi007, again, has some lovely fics that focus on Yon-dad and the relationship he has with Peter.

- “Night Watch” by Sholio is a lovely post- GOTG 2 fic that is a really cool examination of Peter’s grief for Yondu. What sticks out to me with this fic is that the characters are absolutely on point. Honestly, all of Sholio’s Guardians fics are wonderfully characterized.

OTHER

- Avengers - Several years ago I started reading Avengers/Captain America fanfic written by Nilly’s Issue. What stands out to me about their writing is the attention to physical angst and how it correlates to emotional and mental stress. Honestly, their writing style probably has some effect on the way I write physical trauma.

- One Piece - I really love Velkyn Karma’s One Piece fics, and I’d totally recommend them if you’re a fan of Zoro and family feelings. They do some really fantastic work with all the characters, and while a lot of their fics deal with pretty mature and dark topics, there is always a feeling of hope and recovery.

- A while back I used to be really into R.A. Salvatore’s “Forgotten Realms” stuff, especially the books that included Artemis Entreri. I was bummed when his adventures with Jarlaxle ended, and that they ended the way they did. Thankfully, Ariel D was there and provided plenty of character development and lovely platonic relationships. Their stuff goes AU after “The Servant of the Shard,” and essentially follows the idea that the two mercenaries could have become good friends and grown into better versions of themselves with each other. While the fics in the series (starting with “Masquerade-of-Monsters”) include a lot of extremely mature themes, they’re handled with care and a tact that I really appreciate. With Ariel D, I really look up to their ability to get into the mind of the characters and write it out on the screen/page, without it feeling tedious or info-dumpy. There’s a particular quote that I remember where one of the two gets hurt and is saying that they don’t need help, and the other responds with “Does it matter if you dont?” It’s such an amazing moment that happens several times, where the two main characters state their drive to be there for the other, even when it’s not strictly necessary.

#me #fic recs

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rakim2010 · 6 years

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Mat Johnson is an educator and award winning author. Johnson has had over a dozen books published, including novels, nonfiction, graphic novels, and anthologies. In a personal essay Johnson wrote, “I grew up a black boy who looked like a white one.” As a biracial child, growing up Johnson identified as black, but looked white, and a lot of his writing touches on that subject and others like it. Johnson published his first book “Drop” in 2000. Drop, is a coming-of-age tale of a man determined to break the pattern of the ghetto he despises and who in the process is forced to come to terms with his hatred for himself. Johnson’s, The Great Negro Plot was published in 2007. It’s a nonfiction reconstruction of the little-known, New York Slave Insurrection of 1741 and the resultant trial and hysteria. In 2015 Johnson’s novel “Loving Day” was published. The book is titled after the historic 1967 Supreme Court decision which made interracial marriage legal and is a funny, sometimes absurd look at what it means to be mixed race in this country. Regarding the book Johnson once stated, "Most people of mixed heritage they grow up minorities in their own house...Unless they have many, many siblings, they are the only or one of the only people of their exact ethnic makeup. And so, to me, this idea with Loving Day was a chance to explore a group identity…”Johnson made his first move into the comics form with the publication of the five-issue limited series Hellblazer Special: Papa Midnite, where he took an existing character of the Hellblazer franchise and created an origin story that strove to offer depth and dignity to a character who was arguably a racial stereotype of the noble savage. In February 2008, Vertigo Comics published Johnson’s graphic novel, Incognegro, a book about a 1930s black reporter from the north who built a career investigating lynching’s while undercover as a white person, as he is light-skinned enough to do so. The noir mystery deals with the issue of passing and the lynching past of the American South. #MatJohnson #LovingDay #TheGreatNegroPlot #Philly #Incognegro #Drop #Hellblazer #BlackNovelist #BlackComicWriters #28DaysOfBlackComics #28DaysOfComics

#blackcomicwriters #philly #thegreatnegroplot #incognegro #28daysofcomics #28daysofblackcomics #lovingday #hellblazer #blacknovelist #drop #matjohnson

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blacknovelist · 1 year

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(sky) pirates

I love the redbills. I love leofard. I love the sky pirates. I love mine and my friends' WOL. That's it that's all I got today for yall today.

(set nebulouly during the Shadows of Mhach raid series, but no spoilers past the presence of the Redbills. As always, G'avan is a friend's WOL— Feri'um is mine.)

[AO3]

The heroes have been a common face round the Parrock, as of late...

Now, Leofard knew better than to have a particular expectation of someone before he's met them. Why, just look at himself— charming rogue, leader of the Redbills, ragamuffin of Ishgard, the list went on. He was all that the stories liked to tell, sure, but he was also a lot the stories tended to miss, and woe be it for him to judge others the same way he and his crew could be, on the occasion.

That said, well. On one hand, there was taking the rumor-mill with a grain of salt. On the other...

"You know, when I was doing my searching for the vaunted "Warriors of Light"," he began, "I remember wondering to myself: what is it a hero does with their free time? I figured the answer was something more along the lines of, oh, I don't know, punching outlaws and helping kittens out of trees or something that fills your schedule up right quicklike."

G'avan nodded from where she lounged on the grass, tail curled comfortably around her. "Fair assumptions. I wouldn't pass up the chance to end a few bandits."

"I do work at a soup kitchen down in the Foundation sometimes," Feri'um offered from beside her, eyes shifting away from the cooking fire. "If that's closer to what you had in mind."

"Oh, well, it's good to see I haven't lost all of my touch then." The captain snorted and leaned against a nearby post. "Don't take this the wrong way, I'm not hankering to get you out if you're not gumming up any of the workday, and there's worse company to have over— but why are you still here? Instead of off doing the… about half-dozen other things I imagine you could be up to? You know, when I said I'd call once we figured the next step out— which we are working on— I promise I was trying to be thoughtful for once."

"You, thoughtful?" Their chef, Guianna, let out a hefty guffaw from where she stood over the massive simmering pot. It looked delectable, and Leofard spared a moment to mourn the wind blowing away from him rather than toward. "Captain, you're a reasonable man most of the time, but you're also so shoved up your sense of adventure you'd eat boot leather and gold coins if I let you. I'll grant you've got your moments, but I don't think there's space for too much of thinking anywhere in your quarters. Not even on top of the chairs."

G'avan and Feri'um both sputtered into laughter, along with the handful of other Redbills in earshot, and Leofard pressed a hand to his chest.

"I'm wounded! Do I not split our shares and help keep our operations running? Those are the words of somebody who's already given up on a holiday bonus if I've ever heard it."

"Don't you dare!" She brandished the stew-covered spoon in his direction and scowled playfully at his grin. "You don't even pay us outside of loot shares, cut my quarter and I'll cut you!" Then she turned back to her work with a sniff. "Oi, Fer', come try this. I ain't so refined as all your fancy seasonings, but your tastebuds at least function enough for an opinion."

The au ra dutifully shuffled over and took knee next to the chef and her pot, accepting the proffered spoon with grace. G'avan watched, ears twitching, barely restrained longing in her eyes.

"May I try some too?" She asked, just shy of pleading. Guianna made a show of tapping her chin in thought even as Feri'um dipped and held one of the spare spoons aloft, ready to pass it over.

"I suppose you're alright too, Gav. But just a bite!" The cook waved, and G'avan took the spoonful eagerly. Then the cook gestured for someone to pass her the pepper and gave the pot another swirl. "Gotta leave something for the rest of the vultures, after all."

"You never let me try dinner before the bell." Leofard crossed his arms. "And the nicknames already? If I didn't know any better, I'd call favoritism."

"They are your honored hero guests, captain!" She chirped back. "Somethin' somethin' hospitality, you know how it is. Also if you think I ain't gonna milk seasoning tips from someone who done budget cooks good enough for bluebloods on the constant, you're nuts."

"I'm happy to be of service," Feri'um mumbled around the utensil. "Have you considered an egg in here, by the way? Any kind. Not for the whole thing, but breaking the yolk in a single bowl would probably taste fantastic."

"That depends on if anyone's felt like riling up an anzu or twelve recently. We don't run intogastornis as much, they tend to linger a bit too close to that camp for tastes."

"I can go check the Parrock's stock then, if you like." Feri'um tilted their head. "Just point me, I'll take count."

A completely innocent and on-brand offer to the captain's ears, but Guianna scowled something fierce. "Don't think I don't know what you're scheming." The quavering ladle-point came out, this time directed at the pale-horned hero. "I won't take it! Nice as your things may be, a sky pirate's got their pride! You even THINK of giving me some of your stock, local or not, and I'm gonna run you outta here myself."

"Oh, she's got you read, Feri," G'avan said. They spared her a glare that didn't so much as earn a blink as she turned to Guianna and stage-whispered; "They've been trying to pawn off an excess of eggs they accidentally gathered for days now, it's hilarious."

"AV!" The plaintive cry was joined by an intensified glare harsh enough to make a voidsent shudder, but G'avan just cackled.

"What? It's true!"

Leofard let out a bark of laughter. "Sounds to me like you ought to cut out that middle man and just start throwing the damn things at anyone who'll catch them, my friend." He paused. "Maybe also at some folks who won't, if you catch my drift. Depends on if you're feeling metaphorical or literal."

"I've got half a mind for who to aim at." Their hand inched towards the bag on their hip— the one Leofard had never seen them touch in the battlefield and that, in hindsight, must carry all their food. G'avan's ears shot up as she sprang from lounging to a crouch, tail swaying.

"You wouldn't dare." She narrowed her eyes.

Without breaking eye contact, Feri'um lay their hand over the opening of their bag. The miqo'te let out a near-silent hiss, and Guianna hefted the nearby pot lid.

"You even think of throwing anything in my direction and you can skip out on tonight's dinner!"

"Mmhm," they said absently. All their focus was on G'avan and vice versa, the miqo'te slowly circling away from the little cooking area. Other Redbills paused in their work (or lack thereof) to watch the two heroes stand off, chatter and bets flying through the air, and Leofard snorted.

"Don't fall off the edge, now," he said, straightening up. "Have fun, don't maul each other too badly, so on so on."

"No promises," both chimed. And then Feri'um grinned and lunged, foodstuffs forewent, and both tumbled in a storm of limbs and a chorus of cheering. The captain spared a moment to laugh before he turned to return to his quarters.

Adventurers. Of course they'd fit right in.

#Blacknovelist Writes #FFXIV #FFXIV FIC #FF14 #Leofard Myste #The Redbills #Feri'um Wihls #G'avan Roya #WHEEEEEEEEEEE I LOVE THE REDBILLS

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blacknovelist · 2 years

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Ten Years Gone (Overwatch AU Fic)

Hi. In case yall needed more definitive proof that I live here now.

@painthorseblues mentioned a shimada roleswap au to me and I went "fuck yes" which more or less summarizes all the interactions, nowadays. Not to be generic, but i love these guys so much.

Dunno if links are still broken or not but if they are sucks to be me I guess!!

[AO3]

On the anniversary of his brother's death, a tired shadow breaks into Shimada manor in order to pay his respects.

Knelt upon the old sturdy mats before the vast untouched tapestry and carefully placed incense and a gleaming sharp katana, Shimada Genji bowed his head and tried to remember how to breathe.

It never got easier. His chest refused to loosen much with the passing of days, cinching instead tighter each year like a slow and steady march. Here on the trailing edge of the tenth anniversary, it resembled an intangible work vice more than anything, tightened as far as it would go around his lungs. Like ghostly arrows in his chest, an ever present ache that rattled and tugged and refused to abate, heedless of his attempts to pull them free. Like a blade lodged in his windpipe, bitter-sharp as he drowned on air.

On the worst nights he wondered— had it been like this, when the Elders struck him down? Had they drawn it out, vast years in a single night? Or had they pulled on nonexistent mercy to end it swiftly and without second thought?

Senses and instinct formed in a childhood of endless training and further honed by the road sent a cascade of needles down his spine. The quiet tap of a solid mass on the rafters high above, a soft echo of hissing air just shy of passing off as the wind. Metal on wood muffled by experience and cloth, not quite enough.

"I had wondered," Genji murmured into the dim night, "when I might see one of your kind again."

It had been weeks since the last attempt on his life. None of those who came before had followed him here without falling alongside the nameless, faceless guards outside.

How poetic, for one to slip past now.

Feet, feather-light on the floor. He did not shift. A clatter of something metallic, scraping against each other. His hands remained limp on his knees.

"How bold." A heavily modulated voice, dry enough to suspect a human, layered in enough buzz to make him second guess for an omnic. "To enter the den of your foes so brazenly."

Here on the estate's high and massive balcony, the advantage of new shadows and high walls the assassin held were mitigated by Genji's own memories, recollections of nooks and crannies and the best spots a body could wedge itself.

"I do not miss calling these halls home, but there are some things that must be done, regardless."

No reply. But then, there, the creak of a string, the frame that tethered it.

Genji did not rise. Instead he shut his eyes, willed his heart and breath to remain steady, hushed the disgruntled ripple of his dragon deep within. So long now, since that day. He tried, he really did, to stand up, to keep going, to live on, just as he'd been asked. Exhaustion seeped from his bones, weighed down on his veins.

Ten whole years. That was enough, wasn't it, Hanzo?

His breath escaped as the bowstring slipped from taut fingers, wicked arrowhead and sleek shaft darting forth to claim him. It sank deep into the floor in front of him instead, quivering, and he had no choice but to pull in another. Something tried to stir in his chest, old embers kindled by the projectile wind that flicked his ear, tempered by the bed of dread like ash on his tongue.

"That was pathetic," he said. "If you mean to do something, do not toy around."

Air hissed long and low like a breath— or perhaps, a sigh?— and the assassin shifted at his back. For a moment, nothing.

"So this is it?" they asked at last. The incredulity rang clear in the assassin's quiet voice, something tight beneath that Genji refused to read into. "You would choose to kneel, and die like a dog." Another, shorter hiss. "Just like your brother."

Ice scraped down his spine, past the swords in his throat, a rapidly bursting cascade that filled his chest, then his limbs, then his whole body. A sudden muted roar in his ears, both his dragon and his own roiling blood.

He felt more than heard the snarl that ripped itself out of his throat, the world crystalline and clear as he spun from his kneel to sink one of the dozen shuriken on his belt into the junction of the stranger's chest and shoulder, just shy of blinking blue lights. Ryū Ichimonji's hilt already rested in his other hand, drawing the blade as he stood and lunged. The assassin barely had time to lift their bow from where they'd begun to lower it, and it shuddered as the blade collided and showered sparks. When he sought to meet the other's gaze, he found a visor lit by a single glowing line.

"How dare you," Genji hissed, pressed heavy against his sword, seeking a chance by which he might drive it past the defensive stance. "Do not speak of him like that!"

The assassin heaved, tossing Genji back into the dojo, but that did little to stall. Three more shuriken carved a line towards them and they barely had time to jostle the one in their shoulder free before they ducked and dove aside towards the cover of a thick paper wall. The golden cloth hung from the back of their head failed to evade quite as smoothly, two new frayed edges fluttering as the shuriken spun off into the night unhindered. The youngest Shimada snarled.

"Did they not tell you what they did to him, that night? What they asked of him, how they answered?" The divider did well to mute the light, but not enough— the assassin barely flickered away from two well-aimed stars before they launched up with a flash of blue and inhuman grace, claw-toed feet grasping at the thick wood. "He gave them everything and they destroyed him."

He couldn't see where they pulled their arrows from, but he leapt back as one curved down towards his feet, another for his arm. A third, angled to graze across his torso, bounced off his hastily-drawn wakizashi instead. The single muffled grunt his return volley earned brought sharp satisfaction, more still as the assassin clamored for a new perch. Their next arrow struck the ground beside him and burst, and he was forced to divert briefly from his onslaught to deflect and dodge the thin bouncing fragments.

"Damned, regardless of the choice. But he did not give them everything, did he?" The assassin's voice echoed from where they clung to the beams, head cocked. "You are still here after all, aren't you, Genji?"

It took Genji a moment to realize that what he'd mistaken for burning ice had been white hot magma, blazing bright from long dormancy and spilling out across his tongue, through his teeth. His dragon rumbled in agreement, and its borrowed strength propelled him up further than any unaugmented human could have gone. With a muted gasp the assassin dropped to the floor once more, closely followed by the enraged ninja and a shower of chipped wood.

This time, when Genji's katana locked with the bow's frame, he jerked and kicked them first. The force tore the wall and sent them careening towards the courtyard, but experience told him to press the pursuit— and rewarded him the sight of the assassin's back as they began to pull back, arrow nocked but undrawn. A brief turn. Another flash of light, an unnatural leap backward. An arrow that narrowly missed his shoulder and curved to strike the wall, though this one didn't turn to shrapnel behind him. His answering shuriken scraped along the panels of their back as they tried to flee down one of the corridors. By the time he reached it and emerged on the other side, they'd vanished again.

"You spend more time dwelling in this past than in your own presence," said the assassin, ignorant of their target's plotting. Their arm whirred, and an arrow emerged from their right palm to rest upon the bow's frame. "What kind of existence is that?"

"What would you know?" he snarled into the darkness. "What do you care?" A creak in the boards. His shuriken embedded itself into the wall behind him, but the assassin had already moved away. Genji whirled in time to watch them settle near the rail, pulsing light. A plan wove itself from nothing behind his eyes as he studied them. A long shot, perhaps— but a victory, regardless of outcome. The shuriken slot themselves into his palms and itched to move, but he held for now.

"One where I can honor him when I am the only one left who will."

Father spoke of the dragons to them, a long time ago. Companions, spirits, guardians, a facet of their bloodline that could be neither abused or stolen. Perhaps, given time and energy, they could be replicated— but never the same as their own. A dragon to a Shimada, just as a koi to a pond.

Once more, the assassin tipped their head. Genji grit his teeth and allowed one star to fly. They shot it down mid-flight, but Genji soared behind it, long katana exchanged for the more flexible wakizashi.

This time he flit about, clashing with the archer only just long enough to cause sparks and prevent the other from drawing new arrows forth. The assassin adapted with ease, taking one end of the sturdy bow frame in both hands to whirl it at his center of mass. Both gave as much as they took, each swing met and diverted with like. Here, his foe's mechanical nature worked against him, a body no doubt built for combat equally suited to overpowering— if this had been how the battle remained, Genji didn't know if he would have succeeded.

They locked weapons once more, assassin curled low to halt the heavy downward stab. A shift of feet, and much like before they sent the other ninja up and away with a single powerful heave. Unlike before, he'd been ready. Genji twisted in mid-air and hurled the last two shuriken in his palm. The assassin lifted their weapon and arms reflexively, but he hadn't aimed for the head or the chest, or even the arms or hands.

Instead they twirled for the other's feet, the sturdy but slim structure of their legs and ankles. The assassin tried to scramble back. One embedded itself into the floor, but the second managed to carve a deep gouge. They fell with a grunted curse and heavy thump— it wouldn't stop them for long, Genji knew, but it would slow them down.

That was all he needed.

He let the short blade slip from his fingertips, Ryū Ichimonji returning to his grip as his feet impacted the wall. The momentum coiled him there for a beat, the dragon's call already falling from his lips, ethereal emerald green swirling. It manifested into open maw and cleaving intent as he sprang out and down to meet the figure prone upon the floor.

Through his focus, distant and muted, he also saw. The realization in the lines of their body, the renewed determination of their bow's grip. They lifted it, yet empty, as he drew the blade, his words fallen from his tongue, and—

Ryū ga waga teki wo kurau!

Light, vibrant, familiar, blossomed from the assassin's arm, a cascade from fingers to wrist to shoulder as an arrow sprang from their palm to be launched. Illumination followed the steel tip in a stormy swirl, blips like firebugs fusing to form scales, horns, two mouths and graceful roaring faces.

The arrow's angle led it to split on his blade, the impossible dragons colliding with his own like a summer storm. Their energy washed over him, invisible water and heat and something other that left his fingertips tingling, and though they never struck him— though they avoided him, burning coils mere inches from his arms, his face— he found his momentum arrested, feet and knees colliding roughly with dark wood before the other. His dragon hissed, roared, shrieked, cried as siblings thought lost spun and diverted ten years of wrath into empty air. And as it joined them, greens and blues intertwined in their return to the realm in which they rested, his katana clattered to the ground, his outflung hands the only thing that kept him from joining it.

Breath felt like an improbable dream born from older days, when all he'd needed to worry about had been what he'd eat for breakfast, what training Asa might put him through next, how to try and convince his brother to evade an afternoon of lessons in favor of far more important children things. But his lungs still worked somehow, wheezy and tight as they were, thoughts crashing into each other like train wrecks and tide-beaten stone.

Dragons. Bows. The stance of a swordsman behind that of an archer. The puzzle, all laid out neat and tidy, and yet the final realization refused him. He lifted his head to gaze at his would-be assassin, sat up themself with the empty bow still lifted and pointed at him. Between the junction of hand and sleeve, what he'd earlier dismissed as some glimpse of mechanics beneath— did ink paint the skin there blue, or was it wishful thought?

He searched for words, an answer, a question, held them up like paint swatches and found most of them wanting. With an aim like they had demonstrated, it would've been child's play to drive that final arrowhead through his skull. Even now, if they called upon the quiver within their arm, he knew he would not stop them. He had never managed to claim victor during spars that spanned growing up. His heart curled, body breathless, the blue glow leaving his eyes aching— but he needed this.

"Why?" Genji asked, heedless of the way his voice broke over the single word. The assassin said nothing, did little, save to lay their empty weapon on the ground and shift from prone to kneeling. Without thinking, he moved to mirror it.

"I refused to kill you once, ten years ago," they said, plainly, quietly. "Is it so hard to believe I would do so again?"

And before Genji could open his mouth in answer, before he could question, or deny, or even finish piecing together the riddle in full— the assassin lifted their hands to their head. With the hiss of a latch coming undone, the line of light dimmed and the shielding plate fell into waiting palm.

The face beneath differed vastly from the man in Genji's memory. Knotted pale skin lined what had once been sharp well-defined cheeks, one brow covered by metal and paired with a synthetic eyelid that did little to hide the faint artificial sheen of the eye beneath. When he pulled down the cloth that covered the rest of his face, it revealed a twisted bottom lip and more hard silver along his jaw.

But his other eye had remained whole, both the same glittering intense brown— whoever crafted the replacement had clearly paid close attention— and the arch of the remaining eyebrow, sharp enough to be a weapon in and of itself, felt ripped straight from memory. Beneath the rest of the helmet, Genji could only just make out the roots of dark hair, the edges of distinct sideburns.

Hanzo still pursed his lips the same, too, lips curled tight inward. It was the face he made when he wanted and thought he shouldn't have, but had already long caved to the desires regardless.

It felt like the arrows had managed to lodge into Genji's chest anyway, eyes alight with dripping fire. His hand reached without conscious input and clutched the gloved hand that met it like a lifeline, warm and abuzz with the remnants of the twin dragons' influence.

"You're dead," he choked out, disbelief thicker than the tears.

"I am not."

"Is that supposed to be better? I– You—" he stopped, swallowed. Both of them looked at the visor in Hanzo's other hand, one after the other, and knew what the unspoken meant.

"I am what I am. Who I am. I have adapted, and will continue to do so, as always." The hand clutching his squeezed, gently, and Hanzo lifted the plate once more. Genji didn't know whether to protest or let it be, and inaction decided for him. "The question now, Genji, is what you will do."

#blacknovelist writes #Overwatch #overwatch fic #Hanzo Shimada #Genji Shimada #Ovw fic #ovw au #Roleswap #y'all i love this verse So much

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blacknovelist · 1 year

Text

Words and Things

okay listen i love sidurgu and rielle SO freaking much and the drk story is so hecking good yall oh my god

so obviously nothing can or will stop me from my personal sid-and-feri-are-friendscomradesbrothers agenda. I know what i’m after here. They just spark so much joy, I’m so excited to hit stormblood so i can see the next round of job quests.

[AO3]

Memories can be found in the most unexpected of places. Not all of them are good- not all of them are bad.

(In a fit of homesickness, Feri' asks Sid a question. They both get a little more than they expect.)

After their journey to and subsequent return from the Twelveswood together, Feri'um lingers. It's a welcome diversion from the usual— and after Rielle's quiet but frantic concerns over their safety on the road alone, it's admittedly nice to confirm merely by presence that they are, indeed, still breathing. The tavernkeep has brought them a round of drinks (non alcoholic, thankfully), and its... well. Sid would hesitate to use the word nice, but it certainly beat Temple Knights waving foolishly about, even if he would never begrudge a chance to cut them down to size.

But there's a nervous twitch in Feri'um's tail, a hesitant and considering gleam when they glance up to him every so often, and, well. They're a good— if entirely too soft— person, but Sidurgu can only bring to bear so much patience at once.

"Is something bothering you?"

The other au ra blinks at him, caught out. "Ah, well..."

"Either ask or relax, Feri'um," he sighs. "I might not have an answer, but you get nowhere looking at me like that."

"Sorry." They take a long drink, eyes lingering on the tankard and the table. "I'm not sure how to phrase what I want to... give me a moment." He nods and allows some of his attention to wander once more.

To see an auri person within the walls of the city had been a surprise, at first— but not a bad one. It means something to know their kind is no longer so mindlessly vilified, even if it's some twenty years late now, and through the ashy bed of bitter grief he's glad. No one else should have to go through what he had. Is that not why he has taken up his blade?

Rielle takes another sip of her own drink, more content than he's seen her since... since Fray. It's better than the worry and fear, and hopefully it'll stay that way.

"Sid," Feri'um starts again. They're watching him intently, eyes flicking across his face as though searching for something he isn't sure about, and this time he waits for his fellow dark knight to give voice to thought.

But the words that come from Feri'um's mouth do not fall in common, or any language from the city, or even one from Eorzea at all. They speak in a tongue that brings him back to rocking ships and small feet first meeting new land, to hopeful faces and a world of possibility before them and the memory of gunfire behind. Of someone pleading for him to look away.

"Do you know the old tongue?"

"What?" Sid answers in kind, more from habit than conscious acknowledgement. Rielle glances between the two of them, confusion in her eyes at the unfamiliar language, but Feri'um lights up at his response— both ground him away from memories he'd rather not dwell in right now, though they do little for the shock.

"I didn't want to assume," they say, "because I know there are those who grew up elsewhere, or forget the words after many years away— but I wanted to ask because you're the first fellow xaela I've met since I came to Eorzea."

"I— yes, it's been years and there's... no doubt words I don't know or remember, but... Like a crack in a dam, the longer be speaks the easier the language flows from his lips. "How do you—"

Rielle pipes up, quiet and tentative. "What are you two saying?" She blinks up at them both with wide eyes. "I don't recognize the words or sounds at all..."

"Ah, it's..." How did he explain? He shoots Feri'um a look, and the other thankfully picks up the thread.

"It's a different language," they explain. "Where people like us come from— well, mostly people who look like Sidurgu, with his black scales— instead of speaking the common tongue, we have our own."

"I see!" She tilts her head at them. "Do... do those with light scales like yours not also speak it?"

"Many of them... well, maybe— they've spread out on their own and don't come by often, so I don't know for sure. Some live in other countries too and use local languages." A smile tugs their lips. "Most raen have paler scales than I, too."

"Really?"

"Yes. See how mine go especially dark at the edges sometimes? It's because I'm part xaela."

"You are?" Sid and Rielle speak at once in varying degrees of surprise and curiosity, and they glance at each other. He coughs and takes a long drink, and Rielle turns her attention back to Feri'um, who is visibly trying not to laugh.

"My mom is half and half," they say, once the dark knight has managed to regain his composure. "I grew up part of a tribe that wanders outside of the Azim Steppe, though we try to go back around the time of the Naadam even if we don't often participate."

"That explains a number of things, I suppose." Sidurgu sits back and shakes his head. "Your tribe... they stay east?"

"They wander, but usually. I'm the first to come to Eorzea since Dalamud."

He grunts. "For the best. You see how these lands are to too much new and unfamiliar."

Feri'um dips their head in agreement."But it has a capacity to learn, despite everything." They sigh, equal parts melancholic and content. "Things are difficult, here— but it's worth it to be alive, no matter how much it hurts."

An old anger stirs, hissing and spitting hateful rebuttal, but for once Sidurgu can't bring himself to give it voice. What would there be to say? To a fellow dark knight and au ra who knows the sting of mercy scorned, before the child he's taken under oath and guard...

Is he not here because he chose in the first place to live?

Finally, he gives a noncommittal grunt and focuses on finishing his drink. It seems good enough for everyone as they turn back to their own cups.

And then Feri'um tilts their head, as though a new thought has come to them. "Sid, how do you sleep at night?"

"In chairs, often, so Rielle can take the bed."

They rub a hand across their face. "Please tell me you have a neck rest or something."

"I don't need one."

"SID."

Though she doesn't know what they're talking about, Rielle giggles as Feri'um launches into a flurry of angrily concerned words about quality of rest and upper body muscles. Silent, Sidurgu wonders if it's too late to regret asking their company and hides a faint smile behind his tankard.

#blacknovelist writes #FFXIV #FF14 #Sidurgu Orl #Rielle de Caulignot #Sidurgu #Rielle #Feri'um Wihls #FFXIV Fic #feat. mention of feri's yet unnamed tribe (not one of the canonical 51 of course bc... yes)#look feri suffered the first couple months in eorzea thinking they didn't need an auri pillow. they were very very wrong #feri tales

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blacknovelist · 2 years

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hot cocoa (ffxiv fic)

you can really tell I gave up on titling my fic huh

Anyway this has been living rent free in my brain literally since the moment I reached Heavensward so now I inflict upon the world. Warning for spoilers for the very end of the ARR patches.

Consider this a combination character study for after that moment and a precursor to however it is I eventually shoehorn the DRK stuff into my WOL's story because I am not a tank main but man this shit compels me

(Feri'um uses he/they pronouns!)

cross posted on ao3 but I can't recall if links are still busted or not so it can go unlinked for now

After the banquet, after the flight, after reaching Coerthas and their comrades' open doors... it has been a long, long night indeed.

For lack of better things to do, Feri'um contemplates.

Feri'um wraps their hands around the mug and marvels at it, for a moment. For all that Ishgard touts itself cold as the land they dwell, they clearly nonetheless take even a good drink and its vessel seriously— his fingertips barely brush when wrapped around it in full, liquid sloshing against but not over the rim.

They had had drinks this large precisely once on a rarity of a night in Mor Dhona, Riol and Laurentius chortling on one side while Hoary Boulder laughed on the other. The children whining for hate of curfew, Braves drifting to and fro with drinks or meals of their own, Scions bustling and laughing like they hadn't since before the Waking Sands—

After a moment, they strip their gloves and lay them aside. Without the fabric between mug and skin, the porcelain nearly burns. Vivid heat within, bitter cold without.

Tataru hums softly as she drinks, steam wafting and nearly engulfing her face entirely. It's a contrast to Alphinaud, who has all but collapsed to lean on the table around his cup— and G'avan, next to him, one hand on the handle of her own and the other resting on the teen's back as she murmurs to him. Or to Arkham, arms crossed as he slouches in his seat, chest rising and falling with deep sleep, mug on the floor beside his seat safely out of kicking range. Kai and Fletcher aren't here to compare, yet, but neither are they in the thick of danger. A quick quiet linkshell call made sure of that.

The hot chocolate is thin when Feri takes a sip, any hint of sugar and cocoa barely afloat. But it warms from the inside out and runs pins and needles through the lingering numb, melting further the last phantom fringes of frost that had stuck so vehemently to skin and clothes alike. Any metal has long since been shed to defrost and warm near the fire, and in the dim he can't tell if the red of his skin is the tint flames or his blood learning to circulate again.

Are the lines on his arm chillbitten marks or late-bloomed bruises? It could be neither. It could be both. Hands linger like ghosts over his shoulders.

They'd flown together. Fought together. Ilberd had been someone they'd call a friend, but swinging blade and impact upon the ground alongside bitterspat words did not lie.

He should have struck back. Said something, done something, let indignation and grief lend motion to his bones. Like Av, seeking out Alphinaud from wherever the Braves had tried to spirit him away, righteous in rage. Like Arkham, possessed with clarity as he cleaved through the ranks and bought them all precious time and space needed to slip away. Even Alisaie, half the land away, found a way to act. Where had the determination that so often pushed him to stand between people and danger gone? The surety and knowledge of what he knows is right, the will to act on it?

Nanamo is dead. Raubahn, imprisoned and crippled. The Scions, exiled or murdered by their own, branded criminals for things not done, scattered now to the wind. What had Feri' done but ran?

A touch to their arm, gentle against their scales and skin. Haurchefant looms, worry and empathy in equal measure that makes space for relief as their eyes meet his. He slides down onto the bench beside them, feet flat on the ground, elbows braced on his knees as he leans toward in a facsimile of Feri'um's slouch.

His voice is soft, quiet over the low undefined murmur of the rest of the room. "How are you holding up over here?" He asks. "Must be some heavy thoughts to bow your head so low when those horns of yours can't do the job on their own."

Their huff of laughter sends ripples across what's left of their cocoa and pulls a faint smile into the Lord's eyes. Feri' does their best to match it.

"Ah, wait, but there he is. I see my fears that your spirit had been left behind in your flight were unfounded."

"I wouldn't be certain," Feri'um mutters, then sighs. "Maybe it is I lost it long before that. Twelve know I fought back little enough, back there. They told me it was our fault, and I couldn't even..."

"Couldn't take on a small army? A whole city? Those you thought were your allies?" The interruption isn't unkind, but there's a firmness in his voice that brooks no argument. "Just as in Master Alphinaud, I see it in you too, my friend. In all of you. When it matters most, you act. The fires of your souls that once blazed so bright as to chase away the deceptions that might have been our end... dampened they may be, for now. But this will not be your end, either."

Their lips twitch and twist for a moment, tail shifting on the wood as they unfurl just slightly to give the other a look. "Says who?"

"You do," Haurchefant says simply. "As does Lady G'avan and Master Arkham... the spark I see in your eyes even now speaks all that need be said. After all, I am plenty familiar with righteous indignance on behalf of my dearest friends." He lays one hand on their shoulder through the phantoms dwelling there, shifts the other to brace against their two, still wrapped around hot drink. "Feel your pain, Feri'um. Know you have all been hurt, for you cannot heal without. But know too that yours are hearts that blaze like few others, noble and true, and when your strength might wane that same heart brings true friends who stand with you 'till the last."

Feri'um says nothing, for a moment. Has nothing they can say, through the lump resting in their throat. Instead they breathe out, just shy of a sigh, lean down and lifts the mug to rest their lips near the rim, and let their eyes slide shut. The lord lingers for a moment longer, hands warm, before shifting to rise.

"Haurchefant." When he turns to look, Feri'um peers back from beneath their mussed fringe, eyes wet and bright. "Thank you. If you... if you need anything..."

"I believe that is my line." Haurchefant grins. "Rest, all of you. Naught of your worries will reach you here. Not while I have anything to say for it."

With one last shoulder pat he stands. Feri' watches as he traces about the room, bidding each he passes greetings and kind words. Then they sigh, sip their hot chocolate, and settle back. Deep in their chest, through the dripping grief, they search for dry kindling and wonder if it's a lie to tell themself that striking once-friends down will bring satisfaction over pain.

#Blacknovelist writes #final fantasy xiv #FFXIV #FF14 #Final Fantasy 14 #WOL OC #OC's #Feri'um Wihls #and mentions of some friends' wols because i love multiple wols #Haurchefant #id both die and kill for him btw #ffxiv fic #feri tales

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blacknovelist · 1 year

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yonder souls (ffxiv fic)

(a spiritual companion and successor to hot cocoa and worth, though i also firmly believe anything stands alone if you try hard enough. Spoilers for The Vault dungeon in Heavensward (and if you don’t know what i’m talking about, it’s a spoiler))

[ao3]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Action and inaction, ignorance and knowledge. Everything they did— damned if you do, damned if you don't. How long did it take for decisions to come crashing down on one's head again?

Haurchefant is dead. Dead in their arms, cracked on the ground, and the echo of the gleaming spear that took him lodged in their chest. It could have been them, instead. Shouldn't it have been them?

But they shouldn't think like that— they can't, because all they can see is their friend dying on the ground, one of the only noble stone souls in this entire corrupted city, choking on the remnants of his breath with the relief it was anyone but them. He died relieved those around him were still standing and asked them to smile.

Bastard. Feri'um wants him here to see it.

And now they're burning from the inside out, starkly aware of all the flaws and bitter roots that put them here— if you'd known if you'd noticed soon enough to jump if you weren't so bent on justice and rage charging onward, you fool you fool you fool— and it's stupid, really. To think of the intercessory a lifetime ago that Haurchefant had allowed them to use as home base until Ishgard opened its gates. The fire he claimed to see, eating them alive.

But a servant finds them, curled upon a chaise in the hall where they'd sat hard when their legs would no longer carry them, and hands them a mug. And the hot chocolate within is the thin mix of outer Coerthas rather than the thickened slurry of the city proper, and suddenly all they can think of is that voice telling them half a lifetime ago— there is still a spark left in you.

They pick themself up from the seat and make for the living quarters, and pick up a second full mug of the same cocoa from the kitchen while they're at it. G'avan's armor is spread out across the one table of her room when they enter, shield gleaming in the light, greatsword propped up against the foot of the bed. She takes the mug after a pause, tail twitching, and they can see the shared recognition that unfolds, the grieving ache that comes with.

Feri sinks down and G'avan steps forward, and they can gather each other into their arms. How long since either of them has slowed down? They don't acknowledge the tears that slip free, save to curl closer and half-bury their face in her shoulder, careful not to jab her. Av in turn buries into them, one ear flicking against their horn.

Eventually, eventually they'll return to the world beyond, pick up their weapons and press forward— for Haurchefant, for each other, for all those who died for a lie. These lands aren't the home Feri'um had been seeking, but they're home to those they've taken into heart.

They aren't like G'avan with her unyielding drive, not like Alphinaud and his well-meaning stubbornness. They hadn't left home to change the world, just to find a place in it.

Maybe they can change something, though. Can and will, for them. For the people and places they love and will continue to love despite themself, because their darkness with all its good intent had been wrong— and to push onward despite how the world might treat them, to do what they believe in...

Feri is no knight. But they can try.

#Blacknovelist writes #FFXIV #FFXIV Fic #FF14 #FF14 Fic #Feri'um Wihls #G'avan Roya #(gav is not mine i just love her to pieces and everything feri does she is there in the universe too i assure u)#Haurchefant #or mentions of him at least...#Feri Tales #if you think i've been posting a lot of writing lately: yes! i have! because i tried writing a drabble every single day in november #i failed but i still wrote a hecking lot in november and im gonna KEEP writin because i'm a goblin #anyway i love ffxiv so much #and my lad. and everyone else's lads

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blacknovelist · 1 year

Text

worth (ffxiv fic)

(major spoilers for the end of ARR patches. I have a lot of feelings about early dark knight and That Stuff In Ul'dah)

(Feri'um uses he and they pronouns)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Feri'um spends the time it takes for the meeting to conclude and their little group to return to Ishgard with a knot in their throat and something twisting in the pit of their chest and stomach. The others converse around them— sometimes with, even— and they do their best to respond in kind, but the information shared earlier rings in their horns like high cathedral bells. Waves of hot and cold wash down their spine for every moment they linger on this, but they cannot look away.

not dead not dead not dead not dead not dead

you did not verify her grace's condition for yourself, did you?

Foolish. He is so very, very foolish. Blinded by his own overflowed heart, spun and tossed aside and without even the wit to think better course, the will to act on it—

This farce could have ended before the pain reached its peak but the cards were in play under their feet long before that. It sets their every scale on edge to understand, now. A Warrior of Light. Adventurer of Eorzea. Ever beholden to the political players who thought they could circumvent right.

He wants to scream. He wants to cry. He wants to rip Ul'dah's stupid gates apart brick by brick, and do the same to Lolorito and the ghost of Adeledji just for good measure.

In the stone streets through the Foundation, Alphinaud asks if they are alright. G'avan does likewise in the Manor halls, disquieted though she also is according to the flick of her ears. Feri'um can offer but a terse nod and a strained smile, a warm hug that almost allows him to forget the cloying lava creeping up in his throat. Both of them had been so worn and wrung by the Braves, but still they look to him with heart— another failure scratched into his bones. Couldn't even spare them the ache of worry.

Ishgard may have allowed them into her streets, but Feri'um remembers. Unquestioned inquisitors and cruel knights, a report about supplies met with rebuttal about starving. Long days of scorn multifold, for scales and lance and blood from far beyond their land. Even now, only the weight of names protects them from more than fearful or disdainful glances, and through the haze they thank Dusk and Dawn for Haurchefant and Count Edmont. The look in some Temple Knights' eyes tell them it's only the knowledge they cannot win against one of the lands' vaunted godslayers that stays blades from swinging regardless. They hope G'avan made the trial fighters' bruises sting.

But it isn't enough. It's never enough, it never will be— it hadn't been in Ul'dah, after all, had it? Both of them had given everything for Ul'dah, for the three cities. Now they stand with none of them.

Through the window, snow drifts down on the street in white-cold flakes. Feri'um does not feel it. Just the scalding black tar on their tongue and the twisting thing in his chest, the faint whisper of the shadows in the corners of his vision. Softness did not get them anywhere, save bound and ready for their own incarceration. Indecision and inaction forced others to their aid, when they should be able to do it themself.

Nanamo is not dead. Raubahn, freed and healing. Ishgard watches, though, waiting. Expectant for the day they'll fail and it can sweep all of them up in the undertow. By the time it reaches for them, they will be ready. They will have torn the corrupted roots out, bare handed and howling, and lain it at the feet of their past self, no longer frozen and afraid.

Not again.

"Never again," Fray agrees. He does not care for the disarray of Feri'um's hair, the thick jacket thrown hastily on over their nightshirt, greatsword in one hand and the straps of a scabbard in the other. He just smiles, amber crinkled in the shadows of that helmet, and the darkness in their veins writhes. "Come. We have work to do."

Feri'um follows into the night and wonders, only briefly, only once, if they'll recognize the world from the other side of the road.

#blacknovelist writes #FFXIV #FF14 #FFXIV Fic #Final Fantasy XIV #Feri'um Wihls #okay imma be real this was like 85% written because the ending lived in my brain rent fucking FREE okay #i got hit with the precise manner in which to write that and i knew i needed to—#I LOVE DRK I LOVE MY WOL AAAAAAAAAAAA #they dont have a good time early hw :)#feri tales #short and sweet babey

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blacknovelist · 1 year

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endings (ffxiv fic)

I had a lot of feelings after learning about how the original ffxiv rebooted into the current A Realm Reborn iteration, man. I also have a lot of feelings about my character’s backstory and their mom specifically. and it’s writing month. you can probably guess where this is going.

anyway <3

Over the tatters of nations embroiled in battle, a moon descends from the sky and sends the people into tumult.

A continent away, a mother braces against the uncertainty.

The skies tended to tint orange near the horizon in the days before Dalamud's fall, even this far from Cartineau and beyond the bounds of Eorzea. In the months further back it had gleamed, a red-white hole in the daytime sky that inched nearer and nearer until it no longer could be sighted save for the splashes of color it left on the clouds.

They got little more than hearsay and rumor this far east, but Edyne had once made work of collecting leaves off the grapevine and in months of distant dread such as this, the habit had reared its head with a vengeance unhindered by a broken horn. Lips hung loose on merchants and adventurers of all flavors. She knew what it meant.

She'd known for so long this had been coming, the steady flow of whispers shifting with each moon that passed and their crops flourishing or crumbling unnaturally, as though to lend greater credence to the changing of days. And yet now, to know that the end of this time of waiting approached felt... worse, somehow. It could be tomorrow, the next day, a week from now, tonight even. Would the heavens flash red once the moon crashed itself into the land at long last? Would the destruction be bound only to Eorzea, over which the descent had been said to be locked upon, or would shockwaves and devastation reach even here?

By Dusk and Dawn, let it not reach them here.

Her child turned from their dusty work as though sensing their mother's heavy gaze and heavier thoughts, and at the curious tilt of their head as they looked back to her she couldn't help but smile. Feri'um beamed in turn, uprooted the last of the withered crop he’d been cleaning up, and ambled over. Edyne didn't hesitate to pull them into a hug.

Gods beyond, when had her little one grown so much? Once, they'd barely reached the tips of her fingers, even standing straight up. Now they could wrap their arms around her waist without any fuss at all, and who knew how much taller they'd get by the end of this year? Or the next, even.

She did not entertain the dead seed that asked if either would even come.

"Mom?"

"Weiben's hosting us for dinner tonight. Liuren will be there too." She leaned down to rub their horns with her own. "Go clean up."

"Okay." Feri'um frowned up at her. "What about the rest of the packing?"

"It's all handled, unless you haven't put those shoes away like I told you yesterday."

"I did!" Only half a lie— her spare sandals had indeed been bundled, but she'd spotted theirs tucked behind their bedroll. "....do you know what we're eating?"

"Nothing but tomatoes and celery," she said, just to watch the teen's nose scrunch, and she brushed her palm along the budding scales along their jaw. "Now go. I don't want to see any dirt under your nails!"

Supper wasn't, in fact, either of those vegetables, much to Feri’um’s relief. The three adults present shared a quiet laugh as the children bickered over a bowl of snap peas, Weiben's dark-horned duo glaring axes until one noticed Feri sneaking spoonfuls straight out of the others' arms. Liuren shot the two au ra a jokingly satisfied look at the lack of young blood that belonged to her at the table, then squawked as Weiben dangled the salt just out of her lalafellan reach.

Tomorrow, the rest of their little mixed tribe would gather, and the multitude of families would pick up their roots and press onwards. The Garleans hadn't reached this region yet, approach slowed by their current focus on the western front, and even then would probably not pay much mind to a little band of wanderers so long as they took care— but to stay still too long put an itch in every Xaela-blooded head in camp, Edyne's mixed heritage no exception.

With good fortune, the tribe murmured, the tint of the sky would remain a tint for days more, until they could find a good spot to settle yet again. If they were luckier still, impact might pass without them so much as noticing. Perhaps they'd be spared casualty and effect alike from the second moon's fall, the calamitous Dalamud a consequence for Aldenard and its nations alone.

Edyne Wihls did not hope. She prayed. To Azim and Nhaama, father of Dawn and mother of Dusk, and perhaps a bit to the Twelve her not-auri clanmates had brought with them too, because if any Gods might hear perhaps they could find it in their divine and distant hearts to take pity on the little mortal mother laying out pleas, worshiper or not.

Let them all survive, Eorzeans and her own people alike. If not that, permit her tribe to carry on, ruffled but alive through calamity. And failing that still, then please, protect their children— allow her child to wander and learn how to understand like she did, once.

And if none of that would do, then at least let the end come quick. By the Skies, let them not suffer.

(And Edyne dreamed, that night. Not of light and darkness or of crystals and black cloth, but of smiling faces and clear blue skies. Of a child grown strong and tall but never too large for her to pull into her arms. Of a world, vast and dangerous and bloody but so very bright through another's eyes, filled with strangers turned friends and endless fresh sights. Of life just as easily saved as it could be cut away.

It was not an answer, nor a reassurance. But she woke without memory of it the next day, nonetheless settled to her core, and when she on a whim scooped Feri'um into her arms, they just sighed and laughed and hugged her back.)

#blacknovelist writes #Final Fantasy 14 #ffxiv #ffxiv fic #ff14 #normal playing this game like ''here's my char who i play running around eorzea whether as a wol or not!''#me like ''here's my wol's mom and my wol's extended family and the servants my wol befriended and all THEIR family--''#i have so many feelings and thoughts about feri'um's mom and im not sorry #Feri'um Wihls #Edyne Wihls #IT'S SO EXCITING SHE CAN HAVE A TAG NOW #Feri Tales

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blacknovelist · 1 year

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curiosity

"What is that?"

Feri'um hums, jolting their pan and sending a fresh wave of sizzling into the air. Little claws prick at his shoulder as Kal Myhk alights there, wings a-flutter as the little dragon tries to fold them and peer down at the little stoveset at the same time. He breathes long and deep over the steam, then rattles his head.

"This smell is unfamiliar to me. So many pieces to it, swirling together... what is it, Feri'um?"

"Lunch," Feri' replies. They waft some of the smoke in and consider the pan before reaching for their bag. It takes them a moment to find a sprig of mint within, and they lift it for Kal Myhk to see. He dutifully sniffs it and Feri'um holds back a laugh as he jerks a little.

"Sharp! But not bad. Very similar to other plants I have seen Mother use... like the cold, yet not." Kal Myhk peers up at their face from around their horn. "So this is what you eat normally?"

"One of the things!" Feri' adds the sprig to the pan and stirs. They'd only meant to do meat and mushrooms, but, well. Easy to get carried away when adding a sauce. "I'm trained as a cook so I have more options than most— but many people can't eat meat raw unless it's treated in a certain way, so they'd need to sear it with heat first anyway. We can add seasonings to make it taste better or different, too, if we have any."

Kal Myhk tilts his head. "Not raw... so what if you lack for your fire?"

They chuckle. "I have magic, I think that's impossible."

The little dragon stomps gently on a bare patch of shoulder and they squawk. "Still! What if something happens? You could be surrounded by the finest prey and yet be left bereft."

"I'd look for fruits or something, then. We use plants for a lot more than soothing aches and healing pains. These," they point to the rounded shapes of the mushrooms in their pan, "are fungi, for example. I could live off only them for a long time. I'm also trained in botany, so I probably won't poison myself by mistake."

Kal Myhk hums, but he still shifts on his perch. Feri' tries not to wince and gives the simmering concoction another stir. "And if there are none of those, either? The lands of Ishgard are harsh and frosted. I imagine there must be corners unfortunately free of such greenery."

"Then if I can't find, that's what this is for." Feri turns down the heat and lifts their ingredient bag, turning the lip inside-out to show Kal Myhk the silvery fabric within. He leans in to study. "Careful now. It keeps food fresh. This material on the inside retains a chill as long as I remember to keep some ice in it, and the outside is thick, see? Then there are more layers between the two, to help keep temperature from escaping. I carry a lot of food with me quite regularly, and some of it can last nearly forever in the right conditions."

"I see. Very useful, for one who flits about as you do."

At last mollified, Kal Myhk settles down on his perch and turns his attention off and away, apparently content to simply savor in company. Free from the ministrations of ever-shifting tiny claws, Feri takes the opportunity to pull out a container.

For a minute, all is at peace. In the distance, sprites crackle and shrubs sway. A young dravanian revels in the presence of his strange auri friend, and only sometimes glances back down at whatever odd thing it is they are doing right now. The au ra does not glance back, wholly occupied by their task, and for want of something to do Kal Myhk keeps a diligent eye on the surrounding wildlife— unlikely though it may be they would spring at the duo so close to Anyx Trine.

Or at least, he does until a small plate brimming with food is thrust into his peripheral. He turns, startled, and meets Feri'um's open gaze.

"I made plenty."

Kal Myhk considers them a moment, then the plate. Delicately, he pulls one of the chunks of meat from the pale sauce and, with a quick flick, swallows it down. He blinks a few times and looks at it again, and Feri'um smiles. They place the dish down on the stone beside them and take up their own full container, small metal tool in hand.

"Here. Just leave anything you don't want, we'll toss it into the shrub later."

"Thank you."

The spices and meat both are unfamiliar to Kal Myhk, and blended as they are any resemblance they might have once borne to the creatures here in the forelands has long faded. And while he can't imagine eating something so rich and messy for each meal, well. He'd been good lately, so this could probably count as a treat, right?

In no time at all, they both devour their meals. It takes a moment for Kal Myhk to figure out how to hook his claws under the porcelain without dropping it, and another to flick the remains of sauce and herbs free. Feri'um wraps it in a cloth before returning it to their bag.

"I should think I might like to see more of your strange cooked dishes someday, Feri'um." Kal Myhk tosses his head eagerly. "I was unaware mankind's meals could be so flavorful, even if cooked meat seems almost a waste. I'd not eat it forever, the way you must to survive— but a delightful exception, nonetheless."

Feri' grins. "I'm glad it has your seal of approval. A lot of dishes like that are very different from one another, so when next I come back I'll try to have something new."

"It is a promise, then."

#Blacknovelist writes #small bit i did for nano (trying to do a drabble a day) so we shall test a new style also #FFXIV #Final Fantasy 14 #FF14 #ffxiv fic #Feri'um Wihls #Kal Myhk #LISTEN OKAY i did that chain of quests last night and it was the CUTEST SHIT i love this little dragon #i love the little dragons period they're so fucking cute #the way they toss their heads!! the little flips!! i love.#good sidequest chain 10/10 would play again #Feri Tales

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