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fearne

@almandines.bsky.social

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fearne @almandines.bsky.social · Dec 25

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.

Reposted by fearne

marafish

@marafish.bsky.social

relevant to many of yalls interests.

a red and pink cross stitch on blue fabric. "everything I love causes carpal tunnel" surrounded by hearts, a needle and thread, and a skein of embroidery floss.

February 1, 2026 at 2:09 AM

Reposted by fearne

Meg

@prayingmantis.bsky.social

FAR LEFT EXTREMISTS WANT YOU TO HAVE A ROOF OVER YOUR HEAD AND A FULL STOMACH

October 17, 2025 at 2:42 PM

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💫 sorin @ cooking projects

@milkywaybnuuy.bsky.social

Today’s #kimo7!!!

#bnuuyart | #yotsuyu | #ffxiv | #ffxivart

Portrait of Yotsuyu from FFXIV, on lowkey values and lots of reds

March 6, 2025 at 7:17 PM

Reposted by fearne

Thais (exiled)

@coerthas.bsky.social

Illustration of Zenos and Eztli inspired by Klimt's The Kiss, for @tural.bsky.social
#ffxivart

January 30, 2026 at 11:51 PM

fearne

@almandines.bsky.social

I started off sorting them but got out of the habit and now I'm in too deep and it would be too much of a task. help

screenshot showing there are over 17k loose files in my xiv screenshot folder lmao

February 1, 2026 at 3:12 AM

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YMR // 🎮 post-shadowbringers

@ymr18.bsky.social

breakdown [ #ffxivart #ffxiv #yotsuyu ]

January 31, 2026 at 11:45 PM

Reposted by fearne

Sikkal

@sikkal77.bsky.social

재밌는 그림이 많이 있네요

January 30, 2026 at 3:37 PM

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Ned Resnikoff

@resnikoff.bsky.social

We need to shut down the word "performative" until we can figure out what the hell is going on. Of course adopting symbols of protest and resistance is performative! Performance is a core strategy for mass movements!! That's why the call them demonstrations!!!

Alexander Chee @alexanderchee.bsky.social · 14h

"In response to criticisms she's heard about the hat being 'performative,' Mashaal, the shop owner, said the thousands of dollars that have gone toward supporting their community speaks for itself."

NPR @npr.org · 19h

A Minneapolis knitting shop has resurrected the design of a Norwegian cap worn to protest Nazi occupation. Its owner says the money raised from hat pattern sales will support the local immigrant community. n.pr/4thWiUr

January 31, 2026 at 3:54 PM

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Jameela Wahlgren 🏳️‍🌈 🎨

@jameelawahlgren.bsky.social

One more reason my soul shrivels up every time I hear someone say "I just used chatgpt to ____"

An imagine explaining that OpenAI is Trump's largest donor

January 31, 2026 at 5:32 PM

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Dennis Detwiller

@drgonzo123.bsky.social

January 28, 2026 at 1:37 PM

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Licensed Certified Elf Dealer

@elfexegete.bsky.social

I finished it 🫡
#ciart #xivart #ffxivart #ff14art #zenos

A sketch portrait of Zenos from ffxiv. Zenos is facing away, head tilted back and towards the viewer, hand clutching at a bloodied neck. The background is a dark red

January 31, 2026 at 7:00 PM

Reposted by fearne

chilly milly ❄️

@mischiefmilly.bsky.social

-- 🌃💖

w/ my beloved @wakingnaturally.bsky.social ✨

[ #GPOSERS ⟡ #irie ⟡ #iriewren ]

Irie and Wren standing in a garden in the late evening, the moonlight filtering in between the branches of the willow above them. Irie is in a light purple ball gown, left arm slightly outstretched as her face is turned to the camera, while Wren stands close and smiling down at her. At a closer look, Wren's right hand lingers over Irie's right, and it gives the sense that a quiet conversation has been interrupted

January 31, 2026 at 6:38 PM

Reposted by fearne

Fenix

@watercrown.bsky.social

born to be Azem 🙂

reposting an old gem here #serahart #serahxiv

January 31, 2026 at 2:55 AM

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Sunday 🔆

@elvensunday.bsky.social

Aftermath in Il Mheg 🧚

#wolcred ♡ #starbreaker ♡ #elfchan

January 31, 2026 at 8:18 PM

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Sluggy 🐌 | COMMS CLOSED!

@lildisgustinart.bsky.social

But you can still keep going! 🐟

#illustration #sunfish #animalart #artsky

Drawing of a sunfish with a bite taken off of it, and a caption "it is what it is".

January 31, 2026 at 8:13 PM

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石

@tppqqq.bsky.social

水晶でできた、私の友

June 21, 2025 at 12:30 PM

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Lili Saintcrow

@lilithsaintcrow.com

"Put simply, AI bros are mad that people are stealing their recipe for the plagiarism machine — an irony which is pretty hard to ignore."

(The grift is reaching "grifters eating each other" stage, I see.)

Furious AI Users Say Their Prompts Are Being Plagiarized

A self-described AI ambassador is in shambles after she says other AI prompters have been plagiarizing her instructions.

futurism.com

January 31, 2026 at 4:13 PM

Reposted by fearne

#1 ryneposter @ 7.4 spoilers

@specterxiv.bsky.social

i see a cute dress that's not the style of any of my wols and i put it on ryne that's just how it is

#gpose #ryne #emmermods

A gpose of Ryne wearing a white dress with a leather corset, twirling in a field of flowers in Il Mheg.

January 30, 2026 at 11:52 PM

Reposted by fearne

코튼

@lvssbtr.bsky.social

라하 개그드림

January 28, 2026 at 8:55 AM

Reposted by fearne

saba sabaton

@sabato-n.bsky.social

i'm always doing shit like googling if they had bathrobes in the 1600s because i'm anxious about not giving eorzeans anachronistic technology. and then i log in to ffxiv and craft a gravity generator for the 3rd planet we're building a space outpost on

January 31, 2026 at 4:21 AM