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 – 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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What is something that your OC would find incredibly hard to lie about? Even if they really wanted to do so...
This was also asked by @keytarsolo! 🩷
I think if someone asked her whether she forgives Hades for everything he did, there is some part of her that would very much want to attempt to lie, but she just can't do it. And he knows very well that she does not forgive him, and nor has she forgotten, but also that it does not preclude her from loving him. Neither of them has ever attempted to make excuses for it, and nor has he let himself ever appear to desire to be forgiven. She tends to assume that most believe she must be prepared to defend his choices and make excuses for them, and does not venture into the territory of attempting to explain their relationship to strangers; in-fact has stated to those closer to her that they can wait all they please for her to start excusing what he did or explain her feelings, because it isn't going to happen.
And maybe it looks like it would be easier if she could lie about it, but the fact is that they both know it would be playing pretend with what they absolutely cannot risk or invite lying to themselves about.
Copper: 4. Of all the places your OC has seen, which do they consider the most beautiful?
Lead: 4. What has been the most transformative experience your OC has been through? Was it an experience of loss? The first time they ever felt loved? A traumatic or violent event? Or something else entirely?
She is still struck by Amaurot each and every time she visits it, though she cannot discern any difference in how she feels about it since having taken on some of Azem's memories and can't tell whether maybe some of it was always Azem's love for it. And perhaps it's not even that it is especially beautiful in the same sense as somewhere from the more natural world, but that is is beautiful to her, even a shadow of itself as it is. She doesn't spend a lot of time there, but she does sometimes retreat there to think, knowing there are few to none who could disturb her there, and she visits every year on her birthday to spend time with the shade of Hythlodaeus.
In terms of transformative experiences, it's probably almost dying (or technically dying for at least a few seconds) bringing Faith into the world. Not the death itself, but what followed afterwards, in that after Hades brings her back from the edge of the aetherial sea, it takes her a long time to recover, and during that time there are lots of little bits and pieces that she has worried about and been frightened of that seem to fall into place. And there's a moment when most of the Scions more or less barge into the house to see her and Faith, and almost everyone she loves and cares about is in the same room. It's when she finally thinks she'd quite like to live. Not just survive.
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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'.
“Bunny’s gone.”
It is absurd that she has stared down gods and monsters without flinching – or feeling much of anything at all – and yet admitting that she cannot locate their youngest daughter’s 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 Hythlodaeus’ 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.
“I 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 she’s gone.”
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.
“If she truly cannot be found, we could always... make another,” Hythlodaeus proposes, soft-voiced.
“She’s her favourite. And Astraea made her. I lost Faith’s favourite and Astraea’s first creation. And Faith will know if it’s not really Bunny.”
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, “We’ll make it right.”
“I just wanted her to be clean and dry by the time she goes to bed tonight.”
He goes still, then slowly straightens his shoulders.
“What is it?” 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 Faith’s 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 of—
An undeniably leporine ear with delicate blue stitching at its edges, peeking out from under Faith’s 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.
“...I saw her staring out of the kitchen window, earlier,” he says as they return to the kitchen and he begins to set out the mugs for some much needed tea. “She’d 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.”
“But she can’t have managed to get outside, and even if she had, she couldn’t have reached all the way up to the washing line...”
Well. Can’t 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.
“And with our dear husband not around, we can hardly blame him for having potentially yielded to her pleas...” 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, “I think we had better keep an even closer eye on our clever little kitten.”
(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.
“I feel ridiculous.”
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.
“I assure you, everyone else is very much enjoying themselves,” 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 Hades’ 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 Hades’ 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.
“I think,” he suggests in little more than a whisper, “that you should consider the gold underskirt and the cuts in the gown. How it would catch the light when you dance.”
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.
“Lower the neckline at the back,” Hythlodaeus continues between kisses eased against the line of her jaw. “And wear your hair up.”
“Why?”
“So,” 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, “we can do this.”
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 that–
“Have you thought about the colour for the embroidery?” is an interruption she does not want, despite having trembled at the thought of being caught, though one look at the blush colouring the seamstress’ 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 Hades’ 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.
