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almandines.bsky.social
fearne
@almandines.bsky.social
660 followers 320 following 6.2K posts
🔞NSFW, occasional dark/dead dove | NO AI | they/she | bi | 30+ | white

will probably overshare about writing. no, my name is not from CR.

#fearnexiv | #anora | #arina | #wolsid | #wolcred

almandines @ ao3 ( #fearnefic )

i: eildonmoon, h: mrhapsodyXIV
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almandines.bsky.social
fearne @almandines.bsky.social · 21d
thank you for the share and for including writers 🥺 I'm fearne and I write ffxiv fic! lots of wolnpc and lately a decent amount of npc-centric stuff!

you can find me on ao3 here: archiveofourown.org/users/almand...

here are a few snips! 💜 (with links below)
For better or worse, G'raha Tia had been a historian. Of all things from the distant past, it was this to which the Exarch clung the tightest. Deep in the bowels of the Tower, the Ironworks had left him a library stocked full of every text they could find, from cookbooks to grimoires to schoolchildren's notepads, and from it he had carefully curated his own private collection: a single shelf of rare, esoteric, and mostly handwritten tomes preserving a history it would be his life's work to erase. He'd obsessively read every page that even so much as mentioned the Scions of the Seventh Dawn in passing, committing them to his mind so thoroughly he could still recite many from memory if asked. "Thancred Waters" was a name he knew only in ink. He was a ghost who haunted the margins—a handful of words in the dark and little more. This, the Exarch had long surmised, was by design. But no name on a page could be a suitable substitute for meeting a man in the flesh. No written account could have possibly prepared him for the volatility, nor for the instinct to hold his breath and brace himself in his presence, to dig in his heels and stand his ground. He'd been prepared for an Archon, an academic from his homeland, but instead he found callused hands and a shadowed sneer. The similarities between them ended at the Sharlayan marks on their necks, and the Exarch's had long been consumed by crystal. Cahciua’s bedroom had always been cluttered. An organized mess, she had called it the times Erenville asked her how she could ever hope to find anything she was looking for. Shelves of trinkets and overgrown potted plants obscured piles of loose paper wherever he had looked. He remembered the chaos spilling throughout the house, having to shove aside a stack of mail or a new package of seeds to make space on the dining room table to eat his meals; rarely having a place to sit because every chair held a new fern or ivy specimen. His own room had been sparse, entirely by choice. There, he could retreat from the chaos to a world that was clean and orderly—organized without the mess. In cleanliness there was harmony, a peaceful escape from his mother’s fondness for dissonance. Some decades ago, the Crystal Exarch had taken to standing before a mirror each morning and repeating to himself his own name. He did this as he raised his hood, restored his shadowy facial glamour, and prepared to step into the endless scorching daylight as someone else. It was, at first, an affirmation that even as he walked alone in an unknown world, he still had a name. Later, it became a desperate mantra—a rhythm burned into his mouth, lest he fall silent and forget it entirely. It was a name that did not belong among those who had come to see the Crystal Tower as a shining beacon of hope, for whom it would always provide. But the more the tower gave to those around him, the more of him it consumed. He could live with it taking his flesh, his aether, his very lifeblood, but he could not stomach the thought that it might one day consume all of who he was. Thus, he held tight to this small ritual, meaningless to anyone else, in hopes that he could keep his name of all things so tightly guarded that it would somehow remain his even as everything else slipped away. And so when it came time to share his name with another, it was a practiced sound, a familiar rhythm, worn into his teeth and tongue the way footsteps wore grooves into the stairs of an old family home. The last time Thancred prayed to the Twelve, he was in Ishgard. Even in the dingy shadows of the city's depths where he'd be hard-pressed to imagine the eyes of a god could reach, they'd cobbled together a tiny shrine to their Fury, built of ice-chipped stone and a broken, likely stolen statue. A handful of rusted and bent gil coins lay atop it, next to a stale loaf of bread that would have done a lot more to answer prayers were it kept in a Brume family's cupboard than offered to Halone. Desperation, more than devotion, drove him to his knees in the midnight snow with the fire of a middling whiskey still burning in his chest. He'd never paid much mind to Halone before, having always been stretched too thin between the Navigator and the Scholar. He'd belonged to both of them and neither, a soul adrift upon the waves. He'd had two homes but no roots to show for them, given a god the moment he'd been given a name. But Halone was here—well, insofar as he could imagine the prayers of the lowly could reach her ears when those who lived in luxury atop soaring spires had an advantage so much closer to her halls—and she would do. The prayer was an amorphous thing, an amalgam of thoughts and pretty words while he tried to force his silver tongue to dance around the truth. "Bring her back" felt rather profane when it really meant "Take her from Hydaelyn." None save himself, god or otherwise, would dare oppose the Mothercrystal—a thought proven correct when the only thing he heard in response to his silent plea was the crunch of unfamiliar footsteps on the snow. The stranger passed him by without a word. That was how it was in Ishgard—crowds enough that he could never find a moment to himself, but he was still never anything but alone. It wasn't worth it, he resolved as he stood and brushed soot and snow from his knees. If ever he were to whisper the name of another god, the Twelve would have no place upon his tongue.
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tsuyuna.bsky.social
alt.
January 15, 2026 at 3:55 AM
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tsuyuna.bsky.social
The first death is in the heart.

| #gposers • #thanmin • #nsftuna |
Thancred kneels at the feet of The Word of the Mother. She pushes his head down to her thighs. His coat becomes an extension of her form, looking like a dress despite her nudity. (ref: Eros and Psyche, Gustav Vigeland)
January 15, 2026 at 3:55 AM
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mischiefmilly.bsky.social
-- pull me under, shake me harder 💎

「 #GPOSERS ⟡ #irie ⟡ #aura 」
My Xaela wol Irie standing with her right hip cocked, her right hand resting on it. She wears a light blue (raptor blue) dress with golden gauntlets, shoes, and lining along her breasts. The sun sets behind her, making the gold on her glint as she looks to her right
January 15, 2026 at 11:28 PM
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fantasmagoriam.bsky.social
I think Ysayle could easily land a modeling gig if she wanted

#ffxiv | #ffxivart | #matryart
January 15, 2026 at 11:03 PM
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neverknows.bsky.social
[Commission for @lemonberryy.bsky.social ] [ #FFXIV ]

Thanks a lot! 🫡

#FFXIVart #wolysayle
Myka (ffxiv oc) and Ysayle from final fantasy 14. #nevdrawings #commissions #commission #art #ff14
January 15, 2026 at 2:56 PM
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neutralious.bsky.social
October 1, 2025 at 2:43 AM
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crimsonsun.bsky.social
Pipin for the FFXIV playing card deck (...again, because I forgot a couple of details oops)
#FFXIV
FFXIV Pipin
January 15, 2026 at 10:00 PM
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glorifiedcrawfish.bsky.social
The blood of the covenant (2 people who met online by writing about fictional characters fucking nasty) is thicker than the water of the womb
January 15, 2026 at 2:18 AM
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meteorlno.bsky.social
January 15, 2026 at 11:03 AM
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kona572.bsky.social
水晶公
January 15, 2026 at 7:32 AM
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shadowswithal.bsky.social
rejoice and partake of my gift. or something
January 14, 2026 at 6:33 PM
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etroveria.bsky.social
😳💦

#ffxivart #halmarut
Fanart of Halmarut from Final Fantasy XIV wearing dark Ascian robe without her glasses looking at the viewer, smiling cunningly. The background is of black color with lighter abstract specks.
January 15, 2026 at 1:36 PM
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hutaba0718.bsky.social
January 14, 2026 at 1:52 PM
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aetheiryte.bsky.social
#cecexiv ✧ #kbxiv ✧ #kbpose ✧ #🕯️🌸

show me where my armor ends,
─── show me where my skin begins
January 15, 2026 at 2:25 AM
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daikikazuko.bsky.social
Doodled my gorl Aru real quick before bed hehe

#ffxiv #doodle #painting #art
January 15, 2026 at 7:31 AM
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gozufucker69.bsky.social
problematic rage gap. only one person in the dynamic is consumed by vengeance
January 14, 2026 at 6:45 PM
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xenoglossxiv.etheirys.social
#kiwipics #chione #gpose
Chione standing nude with her hand on her on shoulder and looking back slightly
January 15, 2026 at 5:45 AM
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inmyleylines.bsky.social
(cw: somnophilia)

For #WIPwednesday, a little bit of "G'raha's kind of a freak sometimes, actually".
A time or two, B'alith had expressed a curiosity about being roused by being aroused, as he had put it. "Next time, don't bother waking me first," he had murmured drowsily one night, as they lay tangled up in each other's arms after having slaked their thirst for more than just a glass of water. "I can think of far worse things to be roused by in the middle of the night than the feeling of you already inside me." G'raha could not deny that the suggestion had held some appeal for him, too. B'alith had always taken his own pleasure from having a lover use him for theirs, and he had an insatiable appetite for sex—and, as much as G'raha tried to convince himself otherwise, a darker and more possessive corner of his mind could not help but feel a thrill of arousal at the thought of simply being able to have him whenever he liked. The man asleep in his bed had felled gods and toppled regimes. The thought of the Warrior of Light, savior of the star and inheritor of Shatotto's legacy, so pliant and willing and utterly at his mercy… It was a temptation that not even the Crystal Exarch had been able to fully resist. What hope did he, the achingly mortal G'raha Tia, have in the face of such an opportunity?
January 15, 2026 at 4:42 AM
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flawlessflesh.bsky.social
hephaistos & athena
how small our joy now seems. #ffxiv
January 2, 2026 at 5:06 PM
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elvensunday.bsky.social
Short King G'raha and his most beautiful wife Ysera 👑🌹

Spicy comm for beloved moot @rosesthorn-xiv.bsky.social who is so patient and wonderful! Thank you for trusting me with your perfect ship 💕

#ffxivartnsfw ✦ #sundayscommissions ✦ #sundayafterdark ✦ #wolgraha
January 15, 2026 at 5:35 AM
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miacoda.bsky.social
I'm on a strategy board kick. This one has been sitting in my head for a while now. #FFXIV
January 15, 2026 at 4:49 AM
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io-game.bsky.social
"let's take ibuprofen together"
meteion & hermes doodle
January 14, 2026 at 11:30 PM
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bloodwhet.etheirys.social
For @elizafustel.etheirys.social ! Thanks for grabbing screenshots for me! I was doing a study that looked like it would suit Eliza, so I turned it into her.
Eliza (Final Fantasy XIV OC) pulls her hair back into a ponytail. She’s holding a ribbon in her mouth.
January 14, 2026 at 11:38 PM
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wirebug.bsky.social
our lady of the ice #ffxiv #art
portrait/bust painting of ysayle dangoulain from ffxiv. she is turning and gazing to her left and shown in a 3/4ths view. her white hair is being blown by the wind, with a few strands falling across her face. the background is shades of blue and there is half of a yellow decorative border on the right and bottom right corner.
January 14, 2026 at 11:01 PM