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#Fray Esteem
rene-elric · 2 years
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Self love
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shivasdarknight · 9 months
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i did one million stupid things; i said one billion foolish things {ffxiv, wolestinien}
Chapter 2: In which Surkukteni gets caught arguing with herself and somehow repairs a friendship
❆fandom: final fantasy xiv, ffxiv ❆characters: named warrior of light (Surkukteni), Orn Khai, Estinien Wyrmblood/Varlineau, Fray (Esteem) ❆relationship: eventual wolestinien, implied: wolysayle, estimeric, estinien/haurchefant ❆dynamic: m/f, referenced f/f and m/m ❆rating: e ❆key tags: xaela wol, bi+intersex+bigender wol, polyam wol, reconciliation fic, eventual friends with benefits, mutually thinking their feelings are unrequited (they're dumbasses), multiwol story ❆content warnings: cursing, referenced canon character death, canon typical existentialism, grieving, blood, blood and injures, gore relating to healing, arguing (the goal is to get better), internalized homophobia, eventual smut ❆chapters: 2/? {ongoing} ❆words: 8,233 (18,224 in total) ❆series: How to Obtain a Polycule (ft. Emotionally Constipated Dumbasses)
The fight with Faunehm went about as poorly as Surkukteni had expected it to go, only for it to then exceed her low expectations and further send her spiralling. Reopened wounds to her body and her pride set her in a dour mood, so it was only to be expected that Her Darkness should manifest to torment her ceaselessly. But lo and behold, it wasn't just her dark reflection that'd be the only one to confront her whilst she suffered through the worst of her wounds.
Rewrite and diverging canon for DRG60-70. Follows somehow, silence hurts the most chronologically (not super required, but I still suggest reading it first) and follows the reconciliation attempts between Surkukteni and Estinien after their falling out in Heavensward. First arc is finding Faunehm, second is trying to tease out how they can work together, third is the Oh Fuck arc where the E rating comes in.
Also I play favorites and this has one of my favorite scenes that I've ever written. I've been itching to get this one published, so poses at the link below:
{Read Here}
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weatheredpileoftomes · 7 months
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served ice cold
For FFXIVWrite Day 9, “fair”. Sisila, early Heavensward and then early post-Heavensward, spoilers through 3.0 and for dark knight quests through 50, ~400 words. Canonical character death, references to torture, grief, godtier bad coping mechanisms, implied murder.
It isn’t fair.
“What do you mean Lord Drillemont tortures people?” Sisila demands.
The fire snaps. It’s a warm spot in these horrible, cold, grey, miserable halls, and she’s grateful for it, but—Lord Drillemont is a knight. She doesn’t—he can’t just—
Haurchefant sighs. “Unfortunately, he is…not a good man.”
That’s an understatement.
“And he surrounds himself with many of the same, I fear.”
But…torture. Torture. That’s not right, even for enemies of the state—you kill people, you don’t hurt them.
Sisila opens her mouth to protest, then closes it again. She trusts Haurchefant. That’s supposed to be part of what being in love means, isn’t it? And…even if it isn’t, she doesn’t have anything else left. She was supposed to protect Nanamo, she’d sworn oaths, and Nanamo got poisoned while Sisila watched. Raubahn is probably dead too, and Sisila couldn’t even avenge him. If Haurchefant thinks there’s nothing they can do about a lord killing people, if they can’t gather a rescue army and ride in banners flying…
Maybe it isn’t an era for banners.
Haurchefant wipes the tears gently from her face, and Sisila realizes she’s been crying. “We do what we can here,” he says, and she nods.
*
Someone mentions Lord Drillemont on a clear, bright morning near the start of winter, and Sisila suddenly remembers his basement. They said he tortures people to madness, with or without proof of their heresy. And his guards—they do all that for him. They should have stopped him.
“We can stop them now,” Fray says in her ear.
Her voice is low and dark, something that tugs at Sisila’s wounds. “Stop them how?”
Fray shrugs with a clank of plate. “How else? You have the sword.”
She’s right. It isn’t fair that a good man lies dead beneath the snow while so many bad ones are still walking around. It isn’t right that Haurchefant, who always tried to be the best of knights, who gave Sisila something to believe in for months when she had nothing else, was killed, and Lord Drillemont and his men are allowed to ruin others’ lives.
If everyone else is too afraid to stop them, she’ll do it.
“Good,” Fray whispers, and the world goes black with rage.
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Ceruleophobia - Extreme or irrational fear of ceruleum
A fanmade OMORI phobia fight featuring WoL!Cole, who’s deathly afraid of ceruleum ever since the Tragedy happened, and his Fray, basically his emotional support and last line of mental defense before he fell into hysteria. Happened during the dungeon part of Endwalker patch 6.3.
Was trying to make his SOMETHING different from Sunny’s since the circumstance of their fear was different. Also included one without shadow overlay so you can see Cole and Fray’s expression more clearly.
Bonus: HELLMARI as the opponent (she was a placeholder before I had to design my own phobia entity lmao) CW: GAPING MOUTH, EYELESS EYE SOCKETS, BENT NECK
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I don’t need sleep anyway :’D
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sirensongsea · 1 year
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"I think I should go."
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yhane · 8 months
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“I love you more than you’ll ever know, be well.”
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uriangerswife · 4 months
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In From the Cold
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Avalan's experience trying to get back to Camp Broken Glass
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fatestayyuri · 8 months
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got them on the mind
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xviicprc · 8 months
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I love you, Dark Knight
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lavampira · 8 months
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they will tell you that you are one and you are two. you can choose.
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garlean-empire · 5 months
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mirrors start to whisper, shadows start to sing
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ladyramora · 6 months
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I see a lot of Fray art on my Twitter feed, and I'd just like to say that Fray has the prettiest golden eyes, he's just a little guy, he's the ice to Sidurgu's fire, canonically a conjurer as well as a dark knight, and I like him very much~
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shivasdarknight · 9 months
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somehow, silence hurts the most {ffxiv}
❆fandom: final fantasy xiv, ffxiv ❆characters: named warriors of light (Surkukteni, Gwendoline, Seraphin, Teodore), ocs (Katsuro, Altan, W'khittri), Aymeric de Borel, Alphinaud Leveilleur, Estinien Wyrmblood/Varlineau, Fray {Esteem} ❆relationship: implied: wolysayle, wolaymeric, estimeric ❆dynamic: gen, implied f/f, m/f, m/m ❆rating: t ❆key tags: xaela wol, bi+intersex+bigender wol, multiwol story, recovery fic, POV swap (Surkukteni > ???), your inner demons are flirting with you, hurt/comfort ❆content warnings: cursing, injuries, recovery, grief-fueled bad decisions, gore, blood, referenced canon character death, gore relating to healing ❆chapters: 5/5 {complete} ❆words: 28,005 ❆series: How to Obtain a Polycule (ft. Emotionally Constipated Dumbasses)
The immediate aftermath of 3.3 and the final fight with Nidhogg. Surkukteni is stuck in a godsdamned Ishgardian infirmary for what feels like an eternity. She's unsure if the injury will ever allow her to walk again, let alone continue being a dragoon. While she's grateful for the visitors she receives, this mind-numbing recovery might drive her mad - or mayhaps, drive her to do something she may come to regret.
{Read Here}
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it’s always ourselves we find in the sea
For Wondrous Tails of FFXIV, “beach”. Post-Endwalker, ~550 words. Spoilers through 6.0 and for drk quests through 70. This twisted very sideways from where I intended it to go but here we are, I suppose.
Fray finally gets a chance to take the Warrior of Light to the beach.
The water off of Bloodshore is vivid turquoise, clear as the finest glass. Frydlona has been all over three worlds and she’s never seen a gem quite like it. Winter is mild here in Eastern La Noscea, especially after…everywhere. Ishgard, Sharlayan, Garlemald. She barely even feels the chill as she lets the surf run up over her ankles.
“I didn’t think this through,” Fray admits.
The wind catches Myste’s hair, whipping it around his head as he tries to bat it away. Fray is still wearing her armor, helmet and all, like an ink smudge on the beach. Frydlona is the only one of them dressed for this, in a short pareo and close-fitting top, and she can’t help asking, “What was your plan?”
Fray shrugs with a clanking of armor. “I wanted to get you somewhere warm and safe. Somewhere happy, where the people around you were having fun and nobody wanted you to be the Weapon of Light. And I didn’t think you’d let yourself go, so it hardly mattered.”
Somewhere in one of Vaillance’s saddlebags Frydlona has a ribbon. She goes back and sorts through until she finds it, then hands it to Myste. “They have hats at Costa del Sol,” she says to Fray while Myste ties his hair back with a quick thanks.
Fray’s silence is deeply skeptical.
“You could take the helmet off,” Frydlona says. “I know what you look like.”
Myste hugs her, quickly, and runs off down the beach. The spray kicks up under his feet, glittering white, until he stops at a spar of rock running out into the water and bends down to peer at it. Tidepools, Frydlona thinks. Starfish, and sea urchins, and seaweed like silk ribbons. A whole tiny world of dark, rich colors and glimmering texture. “Watch for crabs!” she calls after him.
He waves and nods.
Fray folds her arms with another clank. “It’s good to see him having a nice day at the beach.”
“You want me to…play in a tidepool?”
“It wouldn’t hurt.” Fray tips her head back, looking up at the pale sun. “You don’t like it when I take the helmet off.”
It’s disorienting, looking at herself from the outside. But— “I’d like you to,” Frydlona says. “Actually.”
Fray pulls the helmet off. The air around her swirls red-edged black, hiding the moment that she grows a good fulm in height, and then she’s looking Frydlona in the eye.
Her way of wearing Frydlona’s face is kinder than Zenos’s, now. She hasn’t looked like she did at Whitebrim Front in years.
Frydlona swallows and nods. “I could play in a tidepool,” she says. “If you come too.”
“What?” Fray says. “No, I—”
“‘Come to the beach,’ you said. ‘We should run away to the beach,’ you said. ‘Let’s just ignore them all and go swimming,’ you said.” The water isn’t quite familiar here, but the air is—salt and warmth and the sweet dry scent of winter grass—and Frydlona finds herself grinning at Fray almost the way Fray might. “Don’t tell me you’re giving up on it now.”
“Oh, all right,” Fray says, but she’s smiling too.
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pangolinheart · 11 months
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Has this been done yet?
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sirensongsea · 1 year
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/drinktea
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