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almandines.bsky.social
fearne
@almandines.bsky.social
670 followers 330 following 6.5K 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 · 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.
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calyxcrimes.bsky.social
the problematic age gap between my oldest wip and the wip i just started......
February 2, 2026 at 4:34 PM
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xenoglossxiv.etheirys.social
we've done it lads
my version of Sugar Riot. She has curly hair, darker skin, and light vitiligo patches on her body, Notably the right side of her face. She's throwing up a double peace sign
February 3, 2026 at 12:16 AM
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bakalakadaka.bsky.social
gentlemen it is time
February 1, 2026 at 10:36 PM
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levicrevi.bsky.social
Persevere.
February 2, 2026 at 10:45 PM
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crimsonsun.bsky.social
Adding to the thread, Urianger and Thancred today
#FFXIV
FFXIV Astrologian Urianger FFXIV Thancred
June 29, 2025 at 11:11 PM
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housegoblin.bsky.social
sorry for being cringe I'm trying to enjoy being alive
February 2, 2026 at 5:50 PM
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chiefyarts.bsky.social
Lovers Tarot
@peregrinelight.bsky.social

#ffxiv #wol #wolgraha #grahaTia #art
a lovers tarot card. The vertical image is of the commissioner's Warrior of Light. The reverse is of G'raha Tia. The WoL's braid cuts through the centre of the image and both are looking fondly at a heart glowing above their palms.
February 2, 2026 at 9:14 PM
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mmariesr.bsky.social
Y'shtola from FF14
February 2, 2026 at 9:10 PM
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danifroom.bsky.social
Harry Potter fan in 2026: yes the author is a Nazi with ties to Jeffrey Epstein but I don't see any of that when I buy my annual wand at the Wizarding World in Florida
February 1, 2026 at 7:50 PM
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ronchronchronch.bsky.social
Neil Gaiman is crawling out of his bog two years after sexual assault allegations to play the sweet old fantasy uncle again -- complete with name-dropping that book you like & his twee "make good art" catchphrase -- all in order to (of course) sell you his upcoming book. Don't you dare fall for it.
February 2, 2026 at 8:18 PM
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itsmeishmi.bsky.social
Tsukuyomi

Daughter of the Moon 🌙

#shmiart #FFXIVART #FFXIV
Older fanart of Tsukuyomi from FFXIV (Because she is extremely pretty and I still love her design so so much!). A primal boss version of Yotsuyu from FFXIV's Stormblood expansion. Bust of a woman with rabbit ears and an elaborate headdress, she is bifurcated in two colors- black and white- with her clothing being the opposite split, dark on the other side and light on the other other side. She has piercing bright blue eyes and black and white hair on the same sides as her skin tone.
February 2, 2026 at 8:31 PM
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sereprism.cc
DRAGONWOKE'S REPRISE (ULTIMATE):

THE HEAVENS' QUEERS
THEYDAN
HE/ITHOGG
GAY EYES
haurchefant
THEYDAN 2
HE/ITHOGG AND TRANSVELGR
DRAG QUEEN THEYDAN
February 2, 2026 at 11:51 AM
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birdrespecter.bsky.social
I’m sorry but what did libertarians think that the anonymous money laundering racism coin that you could only functionally use for illicit activity was doing other than this, exactly
February 2, 2026 at 7:24 PM
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xenoglossxiv.etheirys.social
Melanated Vamp Fatale (neck not broken this time 😁)

#kiwipics #vampfatale
Vamp Fatale boss form, but she is a black woman! Yipeee
February 2, 2026 at 5:54 PM
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wisteriaphyte.bsky.social
When Minfilia Was There

#ofthemeadow #birbseeds
A boat covered in overgrown flourishes and flowers sits in the middle of a large lake. The fog is thick, coating the backdrop completely white. Two people are on the boat facing away from each other. Wisteria, an Elezen (elf), sits in the middle of the boat, while Minfilia, a human, stands at the end of the boat, arms extended out to mimic a flying pose. There is an overall solemn feel to the image.
February 2, 2026 at 3:44 AM
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mischiefmilly.bsky.social
i feel like that akira meme right now
[9:17 p.m.]Minfilia: I hardly need remind you of this, of course. 'Tis for my own benefit that I repeat these words─a reaffirmation of mine own chosen path. [9:17 p.m.]Minfilia: If I do not rebuild the foundation of my resolve, I am like to collapse in a fit of weeping... [9:17 p.m.]Minfilia: My apologies again, Miss─there is no other to whom I could display such weakness. [9:17 p.m.]Minfilia: You are my pillar of strength, and I fear I shall have need of your steadfast presence in the days to come...
February 2, 2026 at 2:22 AM
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xenoglossxiv.etheirys.social
mELANIN BEAM GO!
---
#kiwipics #vampfatale #sugarriot
Vamp Fatale but I've made her darker skinned, widened her nose, and plumped her lips Sugar Riot but I've darkened her skin and given her curly hair. Her nose and lips are thicker too but harder to notice on lalas
February 1, 2026 at 7:04 PM
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thanatosaria.bsky.social
i'm so in love with this relic omggggggggg 😭💖

✧ #sayana ✧
sayana in a black outfit of a bodysuit, sleeves, and boots. she stands proudly with one hand on her hip, the other holding the new dark knight relic as it glows purple.
February 2, 2026 at 3:41 AM
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wakingnaturally.bsky.social
do not ask her to do any sort of casting😔

#wrenlore
template by roira a completed sheet showing my oc’s proficiency with various weapons, elemental affinity, etc.
February 1, 2026 at 3:34 PM
almandines.bsky.social
not to CR post on main again (says girl who keeps doing it) but

C4 seekers table has sunk claws into me in a way I was NOT prepared for
February 2, 2026 at 3:04 AM
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yourecko.bsky.social
he glow

Maybe I do all the scions in neons 🤔

#ffxiv #ffxivart #ffxivfanart #GrahaTia
G’raha Tia, but neon
February 2, 2026 at 2:12 AM
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wittywebhandle.bsky.social
Langston Hughes (1943)
NOTE TO ALL NAZIS, FASCISTS, AND KANSMEN You delight, So it would seem, At making mince-meat Of my dream. If you keep on, Before you're through, I'll make mince-meat Out of you.
February 1, 2026 at 4:41 PM
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roira.bsky.social
inventing a new category of art called: ambitious smut
it's when you have a very specific idea in your head powered by the fire in your loins but the universe has not bestowed you the skill to execute it the way you want so you go take poison damage in the corner for 1d8 rounds
February 2, 2026 at 1:05 AM
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horsetuna.bsky.social
Alisaie: Urianger told me to accept grief as it comes, allow myself to feel it, and muster forward without punishing myself for loving someone enough to miss them.

Alphinaud: Urianger doesn’t do any of that.

Alisaie: yeah I think it was a do as I say not as I do scenario
February 1, 2026 at 9:44 PM
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mischiefmilly.bsky.social
-- awwhh, can you keep a secret, sweetie?

「 #GPOSERS ⟡ #irie ⟡ #aura 」
My Xaela wol Irie standing in front of the camera, the lighting dim as she looks up you through her lashes with an eyebrow arched. She's coy, as if challenging you to repeat what you just said She's in the same outfit, but now her head is tilted up as her eyes flit to pure, swirling black. She presses an armored finger to her lips in a shh-ing motion, and you can't do much but comply
February 1, 2026 at 6:50 AM