AO3 (FFXIV, Stargate Atlantis, Baldur's Gate 3, Dragon Age: The Veilguard, Love and Deepspace.)
Prompt-based ficlets: #ink and silver stars.
WoL
A Seeker of the Sun miqo'te, whose canon universe is the Seasons and Promises verse, an MSQ adjacent story where a plan thousands of years in the making culminates in a reunion in Ultima Thule. A mother of three, married to Hades and Hythlodaeus. Main battle classes Dancer and White Mage. Enthusiastic baker and botanist. Azem's reincarnation.
Tags: #stitched by starlight // #aesthetic: stitched by starlight.
Azem
The Fourteenth seat, who adores her people and their city, yet cannot help but see their flaws. Rumours of her being a creation and 'not real' have followed her since childhood. Content to bend the rules as suits the purpose to aid others; unrelentingly kind in the most stubborn of ways. Married to Hades and Hythlodaeus. Main classes Dancer and Paladin.
Tags: #woven in sunlight // #aesthetic: woven in sunlight.
Izeira
What happens when a tangle of Azem's most extreme emotions stored in an unidentified concept crystal meet a new soul in the aetherial sea? A sweet girl burdened with increasingly desctructive powers, Izeira is yet attempting to learn how to lean into her 'gifts'. When not adventuring, she resides in Ishgard. Married to Aymeric and Estinien.
Tags: #spirit of hearthlight // #aesthetic: spirit of hearthlight
Yskari 'Kari' de Riva ('Rook')
A Crow originating from Clan Lavellan, given to the Crows in her teens following quiet warnings from her Inquisitor cousin. Heartsblood is an AU that tells her canon story, while the Moonlight and Midnights universe follows game canon. Soft heart underneath it all â big fan of hugs. Involved with Lucanis. Codex entries.
Tags: #heart of firelight // #aesthetic: heart of firelight
MC
Tags: #elixir of midnight // #aesthetic: elixir of midnight
Writing for prompts:
FFXIV
Azem/Emet-Selch/Hythlodaeus + pairings within the trio.
WoL/Emet-Selch/Hythlodaeus + pairings within the trio.
Izeira/Aymeric/Estinien + pairings within the trio.
Opens with Darling, set during the Final Days. After learning the truth of the future from Venat, Azem tells her daughter stories about her family and attempts to work out a way to save her from being sundered.
The continuation begins with One Step Closer, where the WoL tries to work out what life looks like after the choice she made in Ultima Thule.
A look at some of Antonia's (WoL's previous but one incarnation) story, As Sun Upon the Snow, fits within this universe, but contains no direct references to it.
Fics and aesthetics: #seasons and promises verse.
Reflections
Azem/Emet-Selch/Hythlodaeus, Modern AU.
Reflections in Stardust
Of course Hythlodaeus' new roommate and oldest friend is a musical theatre snob and playing in productions of Shakespeare at the National...
Fics and aesthetics: #reflections verse.
Regency
In which there are myriad rumours surrounding the taciturn and anti-social Hades, but fellow not-quite-outcasts Azem and Hythlodaeus are not one bit deterred.
Is a marriage of convenience really a marriage of convenience when it's also quite plainly for love?
Fics and aesthetics: #for want of a ribbon.
Fate Eternal
A soulmate AU detailed here, in which soulmates can feel one another's intense pain and both the WoL and Emet-Selch endure more than one sort of agony over the course of the MSQ.
Fics: #fate eternal.
Betwixt the Stars
A sci-fi AU detailed here, in which Amaurot's civilisation is divided amongst a fleet of starships, with much of its key functions and defense centered on its fourteen flagships, captained by the Convocation. Hades and Hythlodaeus command The Underworld, while Azem's ship is The Shepherd. Their marriage is the worst kept secret in the fleet.
Fics: #betwixt the stars.
Souls in Bloom
A WoL x Hades x Hythlodaeus flower shop AU, in which the so-called Witch of Elpis is a sparingly spoken florist who has an uncanny ability to know which flowers her customers need, something Hythlodaeus and Hades discover when the former insists on seeing if the rumours are true.
Fics: #souls in bloom.
Of Tea and Tempests
A reincarnated Azem crosses paths with Emet-Selch during a protracted conflict between the people of her nation and that which he has decided to lead into battle. Stems from drabble six of Metempsychosis.
Fics: #of tea and tempests
Royalty AU
The crown was never meant for Hades. Azem and Hythlodaeus were never meant to return to court. After ten years apart and a decade of heartache, is there anything of what they were that they can save?
Fics: #a dance by heart
Supernatural creatures AU
When a so-called witch nurses a rather tame 'wolf' back to health, it brings a vampire to her doorstep. And it turns out that the wolf would quite like to stay...
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20 Your OC loses something important to a partner or close friend - perhaps something of great sentimental value or simply very expensive.
The prompt wanted what it wanted, so this is 'loses something important to one of her children'.
âBunnyâs gone.â
It is absurd that she has stared down gods and monsters without flinching â or feeling much of anything at all â and yet admitting that she cannot locate their youngest daughterâs favourite toy is what threatens to reduce her to tears that she does her very best to blink back as she waits for what reaction the news that she has shared will bring.
As he absorbs the information, one of Hythlodaeusâ eyebrows dips ever so briefly in what is the only indication of any consternation that she can discern, and still it is enough that her heart lurches in a fashion that she knows it would pain him to learn.
âI was second-guessing it as I did it, and I still put her out on the washing line with everything else. She was hanging by her ears, and now the pegs are still on the line and sheâs gone.â
That he reaches for her and wraps her up in the snug embrace that she both needs and desperately feels that she does not deserve only allows her tears to win the battle, her vision blurring as she endeavours to conceal them, ducking her head down against his chest.
âIf she truly cannot be found, we could always... make another,â Hythlodaeus proposes, soft-voiced.
âSheâs her favourite. And Astraea made her. I lost Faithâs favourite and Astraeaâs first creation. And Faith will know if itâs not really Bunny.â
Of course she will. If Faith can perceive souls and aether, she will notice almost immediately that any replacement Bunny is not the one that her sister used her own power and aether to create in a moment of love and wishing for there to be something perfect for her.
Not only that, but there is the simple matter that a new Bunny will not be the same Bunny that she has cuddled and kissed and doted on, bringing with her wherever she can.
It is a sob that she hears escape her, muffled as it is against fabric.
Warrior. Weapon. Destroyer of creatures of nightmare.
Sobbing over a plush animal.
(A plush animal that means the world to her daughter.)
Hythlodaeus bows his head to murmur soothing nothings into her hair, rocking her a little as he promises, âWeâll make it right.â
âI just wanted her to be clean and dry by the time she goes to bed tonight.â
He goes still, then slowly straightens his shoulders.
âWhat is it?â she asks, braving a glance up at him.
Threading his fingers through hers, he moves to lead her from the kitchen, drawing her after him as he quietly pads his way through to Faithâs room, where their daughter lies curled up in bed, having been claimed by an afternoon nap.
Gently, he reaches out to ease away the blanket beneath which Faith sleeps in a somewhat ungainly sprawl, to reveal the sight ofâ
An undeniably leporine ear with delicate blue stitching at its edges, peeking out from under Faithâs left shoulder.
She stares.
How...?
Hythlodaeus tucks the blanket back into place and follows her from the room as she presses the heels of her hands to her eyes and attempts to prioritise one of the many questions that demand answers.
â...I saw her staring out of the kitchen window, earlier,â he says as they return to the kitchen and he begins to set out the mugs for some much needed tea. âSheâd clambered up onto a chair and I picked her up and set her back on the floor, and then she scampered off without a word.â
âBut she canât have managed to get outside, and even if she had, she couldnât have reached all the way up to the washing line...â
Well. Canât is not exactly an absolute, in their family.
Perhaps it is that Faith did not even need to leave the house to retrieve Bunny, if she was so determined to have her back.
âAnd with our dear husband not around, we can hardly blame him for having potentially yielded to her pleas...â Hythlodaeus utters wryly.
With a faintly trembling hand (another bizarre, ridiculous, thing), she accepts the chocolate-coated biscuit that he offers her.
Around a smile, he declares, âI think we had better keep an even closer eye on our clever little kitten.â
(Might have been rather inspired by @windupbastion's ask, specifically the environment one. The focus of this - his identity - is definitely an added factor as to why he favors deserted/uninhabited places like this.)
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7. Your OC must buy (or otherwise obtain) a new and decidedly fancy outfit for a high society event.
âI feel ridiculous.â
It is something she only allows herself to utter once those who have been working on carefully adjusting and pinning fabric to fit her better have excused themselves to, she suspects, have a quiet argument over which embellishments would best suit and how they might propose them to her in the face of what minimal input she has managed to provide so far.
âI assure you, everyone else is very much enjoying themselves,â Hythlodaeus informs her, drifting from his seat at the edge of the room to inch back one of the sleeves of the midnight gown that is a work in progress and brush his lips over the inside of her wrist.
For him, she has a tiny smile, her fingers catching at his to briefly lace them together, and, as she turns a little to seek out Hadesâ gaze, she discovers him watching the pair of them in a manner that she immediately recognises as being likely to lead to matters most unsuitable for their present surroundings.
Hythlodaeus tilts his head just a fraction, his attention sliding from their husband and the heated stare he is - perhaps deliberately - doing nothing to conceal while it is only the three of them in the room, and lifts her wrist back to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss over her pulse that makes her shiver and Hadesâ focus sharpen.
The flicker of aether she feels settle over fabric must secure the pins, for she knows he would not be so unfeeling as to ruin the work of the seamstress and her companion, and she does her very best to remain still as elegant fingers wander gently along the hem of her unfinished dress before his hand slips beneath it and fingertips graze their leisurely way towards her hip.
âI think,â he suggests in little more than a whisper, âthat you should consider the gold underskirt and the cuts in the gown. How it would catch the light when you dance.â
Her heart is hammering, something he likely already knows even before he walks the fingers of his other hand over the recommended lines of embroidery and rests his hand over it, before grasping fabric just enough to give a tug to encourage her down to him from the podium she has been stood upon for what feels like hours, so that he can claim a kiss that she sighs into and unthinkingly murmurs assent about the skirts.
The hand beneath her skirts moves just a fraction, and she catches his bottom lip between her teeth, eliciting from him a pleased breath of laughter.
From Hades, there is a strangled noise that sounds an awful lot like a growl.
âLower the neckline at the back,â Hythlodaeus continues between kisses eased against the line of her jaw. âAnd wear your hair up.â
âWhy?â
âSo,â he says, sliding free a single pin as he loops an arm about her waist and tangles his other hand in her hair, lifting it away from her neck, âwe can do this.â
His mouth first finds her shoulder, teeth delivering a lazy nip that she simultaneously hopes will and will not leave a mark to be found, before he noses at the nape of her neck and begins to pursue a path of kisses down her spine thatâ
âHave you thought about the colour for the embroidery?â is an interruption she does not want, despite having trembled at the thought of being caught, though one look at the blush colouring the seamstressâ cheeks is enough to suggest that they quite likely already have been.
(Observed, at least.)
All at once, Hythlodaeus retreats, along with his hold on the pins, and oh so casually saunters back to his seat, where he reaches to so very innocently hold Hadesâ hand.
Their beloved is all but scarlet, and, worst of all, all it does is make her want to clamber into his lap and kiss him senseless. With or without an audience.
(She will not. Would not.)
But she knows she is not the only one who desperately hopes that the fitting of her dress is over incredibly soon.
And Hythlodaeus?
He smiles and suggests a rose-gold thread for the embroidery.
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"Your OC goes to the baths or spa in a new city and discovers it is very much communal." For the WoL, your choice of verse.
âI think this is where we are meant to part waysâŚâ
Not that she has any particular wish to. In-fact, she is more than half-certain that she would quite like to turn around and slip back the way they have travelled, throwing layers of clothing back on, until they reach the elaborately carved doors and she can escape. Were it not for Hythlodaeus directing longing looks towards those doors, enticed by the thought of salt water bathing beneath reportedly beautiful crystal ceilings rumoured to be quite enchanting, she would not have taken a single step towards them.
But he would not say that he wanted to see the baths, and she had not wanted to deny him anything simply because of her own discomfort, and, knowing Hades would find the whole experience even less pleasant than she might, she had decided to make the suggestion.
(And Hades had made his grateful escape, promising to meet them in the botanical gardens in a few hoursâ time.)
And it is not that she entirely lacks curiosity about the potentially relaxing properties of the water, or just how beautiful the ceilings might be, butâ
Hythlodaeus has ventured a few steps ahead of her to nudge open the set of doors before them, allowing a not so especially quiet ripple of chatter to reach them, along with the sound of splashing andâ
The sight of a distinctly unclothed gentleman laughing as he pursues another along the edge of what she can only assume is the main bathing pool, several young ladies watching the chase with indulgent smiles.
Already, she is attired in far fewer clothes than she generally desires to be outside of the bedroom. Sometimes even in the bedroom. In the past few minutes, she has had to acknowledge her own body more than she would like to. Caught sight of her reflection in several mosaic mirrors. What her husbands summoned together for her from aether to suit the needs of the impromptu outing is not desperately revealing, yet she had thought only of them or passing attendants seeing her, and few others, and certainly not the seeming expectation to cast aside her clothing completely in the presence of so many.
Too late to summon her courage and pretend she is not in the least bit unsettled, so that he might enjoy himself, she notices that Hythlodaeus is watching her with a softness to his gaze, taking in the sight of her trapped between forging ahead and fleeing.
She never has been able to keep anything from him.
He lets the door swing shut and tucks a gentle arm around her, drawing her away and into the darkness of a quiet alcove, where he wraps her up in his arms and rests his head atop hers, keeping her close in a warm embrace as her racing heart begins to slow and she remembers how to breathe again.
Absurd. She has stood before gods and monsters and not so much as blinked.
âWe can go,â he murmurs, a shift in the temperature over his skin an indication of the intent to teleport them away, toâ
Tightening her hold on him, she insists, âNo.â
âNo?â
âNo. Just⌠give me a minute.â
Lifting one of her hands to his lips, he brushes a kiss against the back of it, then over the pulse in her wrist, and, as she tips her head back to seek out another kiss that he bestows with a tiny smile, he wanders her back against the wall and lifts her up, nosing at the crook of her neck.
âWhatever it is that they are doing in there, Iâm certain that we are not supposed to be doing this out here,â she utters dryly.
She feels him smile again against her shoulder before he rests his forehead there and leans into her with a quiet sigh, letting her wrap herself around him and hold on.
They make nothing more of it than the comfort of being skin to skin, until her spike of panic has eased and she threads a hand into his hair, offering a soft, âI would think this would be nice beneath a crystal ceilingâŚâ
â...Are you sure?â
âWell, they will certainly see more of your honour than mine.â
Hythlodaeus nudges a momentâs laughter and a kiss against her temple, acknowledging, âI suppose that is true enough.â
He would never make her. Never demand anything of her that she could not manage or was unwilling to try.
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