Taking a quick break from the story to share some headcanons.
The first time NPC realizes that they're in love with the WoL, featuring the elf husbands.
Aymeric
That is a difficult question. The exact moment? I’ve never been wont to trust someone known for their skills in persuasion, but their power over the hearts and minds of others is undeniable. The Warrior of Light convinced me of much through the strength of their efforts. So many things I had believed to be impossible, they need not honeyed words to make me believe. They show me.
The laws of Ishgard were vast and immutable, etched in stone for many ages. To think that we might become a republic, that anyone might have the political power of a lord! I had never given myself the freedom to imagine it until this fearless adventurer strode into the Holy See, smashing centuries of rules and procedure. They never feared impropriety, always placing their conviction before the trifles of high society.
My feelings grew when they flung themselves into danger after I had been taken to the Vault, that they would follow my father to Azys Lla and do what I could not. I should have been the one to put him down, I should have been the one to bring Estinien home. Yet, they looked on me with compassion, with true friendship rather than pity or disappointment.
I apologize, I could speak for many ages on this. The exact moment that I knew I loved them was at the Grand Melee. For all of the infatuation I had held, that sealed it. I admit, I felt a rush of pride seeing them victorious in Ishgard's colors, in my colors. Every day after, I knew I loved the Warrior of Light. If only dinner had been longer, but perhaps next time.
Haurchefant
They were lovely from the first! Don't laugh, but I do believe in love at first sight. Really. I loved that they didn't know who I was, where I had come from, what people thought of my family. They needed my aid, and I could be their hero. To someone so strong, I could be their hero. That I might be the person to comfort the Savior of Eorzea, the primal slayer, the Warrior of Light! Imagine that.
Every day has been an exercise in showing my affection, though for as forward as I had been, I don't think they've picked up on my intentions. I have sent word to them at House Fortemps to visit for another hot chocolate date, but they are quite busy. I trust we'll make the time before this dreaded war ends. I fear that they might leave Ishgard for some time after that, but maybe...oh. Coerthas isn't so out of the way. I hope they come to see me from time to time.
Estinien
You fail to receive an answer. Estinien has scowled in your face for at least 30 seconds, but it has felt like an eternity.
"Thavnair. After the aetheryte sickness. I heard them call my name from behind me as I expertly haggled with the vendor for the cure to the Warrior of Light's ill. It was sweet, soft. I had never heard them speak that way. The way they gazed at me, desperate for me to notice. It was quite sweet."
Estinien has been apprised by another person in the room that the Warrior of Light had simply been attempting to stop him from overpaying for a drink. He looks absolutely crushed and has put on his helmet. He has no further comment-oh. He has returned.
"They were quite pleasant after Arenvald's accident. Compassionate but pragmatic, quick to shut down Fordola's commentary while giving her the same kind honesty. No matter the situation, their words are true without a hint of cruelty. I felt..." Estinien sucks in his breath sharply, "I admit, I am a bit softer now since meeting them. There is a way to be loving and honest. They're truly an equal on the battlefield, a beast of a dragoon, but so soft otherwise."
Estinien has cleared his throat and will not elaborate further.
WoL playing a prank on them (Alisaie, Alphinaud, Estinien, G'raha Tia, Thancred, Urianger, Y'shtola)
React to a sick!WoL admitting that they were scared that their caretaker only thought of them as a tool (Alisaie, Alphinaud, Aymeric, Estinien, G'raha Tia, Thancred, Urianger, Y'shtola)
Comparing/Tending to scars (Estinien, G'raha Tia, Thancred)
React to WoL being a Miqo'te (Emet-Selch, Hermes, Hythlodaeus)
Encouraging Miqo'te!WoL who is nervous to show their cat-like behavior (Aymeric, Estinien, Haurchefant, Urianger, Y'shtola)
WoL Breaking down into tears (G'raha Tia, Thancred, Y'shtola)
WoL breaking down into tears {Part 2} (Emet-Selch, Estinien, Urianger)
WoL going to live with the beast tribes instead of adventuring (Alisaie, Alphinaud, Estinien, G'raha Tia, Thancred, Urianger, Y'shtola)
WoL breaking down into tears {Part 3} (Aymeric, Erenville, Haurchefant)
Finding Y'shtola & WoL making out (Alisaie, Alphinaud, Exarch, Ryne, Thancred, Urianger)
WoL having a bad nightmare (Alisaie, Alphinaud, G'raha Tia, Thancred, Urianger, Y'shtola)
WoL having a bad nightmare {Part 2} (Aymeric, Emet-Selch)
Finding Urianger & the WoL making out (Alisaie, Alphinaud, Exarch, Ryne, Thancred, Y'shtola)
Cuddles HCs (Artoirel, Emmanellain, Haurchefant)
Reaction to an Au Ra!Reader curling up to them as Ishgard is so cold it makes them want to hibernate (Alphinaud, Aymeric, Haurchefant, Tataru)
Comforting WoL who suffers from delusions that everyone hates them (Emet-Selch, Hythlodaeus, Venat)
WoL wanting to be bent over the nearest surface {18+} (Aymeric, G'raha Tia, Thancred, Y'shtola)
Viera!WoL having their bunny tail (Erenville, Urianger, Zenos)
With a Sick WoL (Emet-Selch, G'raha Tia)
WoL getting married to Aymeric (Alisaie, Alphinaud, Estinien, G'raha Tia, Thancred, Urianger, Y'shtola)
WoL laying on their chest when they're cuddling (Aymeric, Estinien, G'raha Tia, Haurchefant, Urianger)
WoL singing "Raise your glass" in the Forgotten Knight {Part 1} (Alisaie, Alphinaud, Estinien, G'raha Tia, Thancred. Urianger, Y'shtola)
Exarch accidently summons the 8 year old version of the WoL (Alisaie, Alphinaud, Exarch, Thancred, Urianger, Y'shtola)
Miqo'te WoL bunting them (Alisaie, Alphinaud, Estinien, Exarch, Post Reveal-G'raha Tia, Thancred, Urianger, Y'shtola)
Reaction to WoL after Alisaie hits the G note on the Piano (Alisaie, Alphinaud, Estinien, G'raha Tia, Thancred. Urianger, Y'shtola)
Finding Thancred & WoL making out (Alisaie, Alphinaud, Exarch, Ryne, Urianger, Y'shtola)
WoL saying they don't want to fight anymore (Aymeric, Estinien. G'raha Tia, Haurchefant, Thancred, Urianger)
WoL trying to redecorate the tower to make it more cozy (Zenos x Reader x Fandaniel)
✧Solo HC & Reactions✧
Thancred with a Lalafell s/o HCs
Y'shtola reacts: Unconscious WoL teleporting back to the ship (part 3)
Gaius Baelsar Domestic HCs
Fandaniel reacting to learning you had banged his clone from the Crystal Tower
Y'shtola with a shy Fem!WoL who takes great appreciation of Y'shtola's new outfit on The First
Zenos Domestic HCs
Fandaniel reaction to WoL saying they don't want to fight anymore
Erenville reacts to WoL trying to help him with a small task but ends up getting so frustrated that they can't capture the creature they end up breaking down
Gaius Father HCs
Artoirel Love at First Sight HCs
Fandaniel with s/o who's been trying to reverse-engineer allagan tech for years
Tired WoL enters the Rising Stone and falls asleep on Y'shtola's lap
Thancred & a Miqo'te HCs
Zenos confessing his love to the WoL
WoL revealing they have Azem's memories by playing wrong notes of a familiar song (Emet-Selch)
A/N: Oh no TT I am always ready to write Haurchefant who lives!
Instead of dying after "a smile better suits a hero", he merely passes out
Estinien was the one to carry him from the Vault with you following closely behind
Aymeric wanted to but he was injured as well
"Is he going to be okay?" you kept asking
"He'll be fine once the healers see him."
and he was
when he woke up, he was happy to see your smiling face
especially since it was the last that he had seen
thankful he was to still be alive
"You are here."
you were resting your head on his bed
you woke up when you felt his fingers brushing your hair out of your face
when you saw him smiling at you, you couldn't help but let out a sob
"I thought I lost you!"
"I am here and with you. That's all that matters right now."
he'd wipe away your tears as you rest your forehead against his
"Glad am I to see you alive and well."
and from that moment you promised to take care of him
he told you that it was not a worry, but let you fuss over him
he owed you his life
and denied you when you had said the same thing
"All I want from you is full recovery."
"At least let me treat you to dinner. Every night for the rest of our lives, if I must."
"Deal. You've got yourself a life partner, Monsieur Greystone."
It was quite a while before he had fully recovered, but you were with him every step of the way
and you wouldn't change that for the world
When he was able to go home, he was welcomed back happily by his father and brothers
all was good in the world once again
"I meant it."
"Hm?"
"Dinner for the rest of our lives. I can't deny that I've been enchanted by your from the very moment I met you. I told my father that you were the one I wanted to marry."
"I told you, you had a life partner. I love you too, Haurchefant. You were all I needed, what I still need. If I had lost."
Waaah it has been so long!!! I apologize for the absence! I have been working on and doing all kinds of stuff (fics included) as of late so I did one of my classic dip outs there for a moment, but I’m here! Just plunking away as usual. :)
With Dawntrail coming up I have been focusing a big chunk of my free time on trying to beat Endwalker (I am slow in all things, video games included lul) because I wanna be there with the herd with Dawntrail comes out!!! I have no idea if I am gonna make it, but I am doing the best I can to catch up!!!
That being said: Zenos brainrot propelled this fic from my brain, to my computer, to you. Was I and am I also writing a bunch of other things? Yes. Is this the only thing I could momentarily focus on writing-wise because I have been compromised by my love for this fucked up man? Also yes. I’m sorry. It’s bad. I was already obsessed with him in Stormblood and now that I am deep within the clutches of the Endwalker msq… It’s over for me guys. It was a good run, but rip to me. My WOL may be playing hard to get, but I’m sure not. Zenos if you are reading this, you can just have me.
So without further ado, here is a Zenos fic I have been working on! My love for him aside, I think Zenos is a super fun character to write for, so I really hope I did him some justice! This is a reader insert fic, but you are the Warrior of Light in it so feel free to insert your OC’s and WOL if you like! I tried to keep the reader neutral, but I will say it’s def aimed more at a female reader/character and if you are a shorter race like a Lala it will probs be a little wonky, so my apologies. Also, I am about half way? A little over half way? through the Endwalker main story, so potential spoilers up to that point. This fic takes place sometime between post Shadowbringers and the first part of Endwalker.
Nothing overly explicit, but due to the nature of this fic it is 18+ please!
Thank you so much for reading!!! <3 I truly hope you enjoyed!
WARNINGS: Unhealthy relationship (if you can even call it a relationship), intense infatuation, implied noncon, noncon mentions, a lot of fighting and mentions of fighting, mentions of death and the end of the world, unwanted touching, Endwalker spoilers.
It was always the same dream.
Amaurot. The end times. Death, destruction, chaos. Streets tainted by endless misery, stifling woe permeating the air as people ran about frantically, picked off left and right by horrendous, nightmarish monsters. Screams pierced the air as the remaining survivors struggled in vain, desperate to escape a fate that they could not avoid.
Just as any other night, he would watch it all unfold with cold indifference. Walking through the crumbling, fire charred lanes of this shell of a once bustling city, he would take it all in at a leisurely pace, maintaining a stride no more rushed than if he were taking a pleasant stroll. His features would be void of distress or malaise, his face a blank slate as he paraded down roads lined with bodies and devastation.
Zenos could say it was because he had grown accustomed to it, have the same dream each night and the grisly scenario that laid in wait past your closed eyes was bound to no longer shock you. But that would be a lie, as this ghastly nightmare had never truthfully bothered him to begin with. He simply didn’t care, not about the dying planet, nor its inhabitants that suffered the same fate. This scene from another time, this moment from a faraway place that no longer existed, he couldn’t bring himself to feel any form of remorse for the phantoms left to wallow helplessly in this endless, hellish loop, even if his own star was on track to share the same fate.
An echo of the past was just that, to dwell on it was a fool’s errand.
But tonight, it was not the end of times that greeted him when he closed his eyes. In its place stood an immaculate hall appearing to belong to some manner of grandiose castle. Pristine and orderly, he sat upon a large throne questionably positioned in the middle of the walkway, facing so that a vast expanse of the hall was clearly within his view.
Had he been here before? It was hard to say, having been trapped by palace walls most of his life they all blurred together after a certain point. Perhaps this wasn’t even a castle, but some manner of fortress. The varying weapons displayed neatly along the surrounding walls certainly made it feel as if this was more than just a mere abode for royalty to live out their boringly opulent lives, perhaps it doubled as an armory of sorts? Every sword, spear, and battle axe looked immaculately cared for; their blades so sharp simply looking at them made you feel as if you had been sliced.
His time to dwell upon the mystery of his surroundings was quick to dissipate however, as he felt a familiar presence approach him from behind. He remained still when a delicate hand was placed upon him, crawling from his arm to slide unhurriedly across his broad shoulders. The caress occupied the entirety of his thoughts, manicured nails scratching lightly against his flesh as they raked across his back, pressing just hard enough that they left a pleasant burn in their wake.
“There you are,” a deceptively alluring voice purred in his ear. Phantom arms draped themselves loosely over his shoulders, their fingers moving to trace a swirling pattern upon his chest. Goosebumps littered his arms at the brief contact. “Were you hiding from me?”
A small smile spread across his lips. What elation merely hearing your voice caused.
Were he not already aware of it, he would recognize he was in a dream from this interaction alone. You, only you, would be welcomed to touch him this way. But even were he to offer invitation, you would never do so of your own free will. There was a mixture of pride and revulsion that kept your interactions with him void of skinship, save for the fleeting contact that occurred when you were locked in combat.
His motivations, the way he chose to experience the world, your differing values and opinions. Like night and day, they barred you from reciprocating his feelings towards you. Because of this, he was left to revel in your touch exclusively in the realm of dreams.
“On the contrary,” he hummed, “you have been the one to keep me waiting.”
A low chuckle reverberated from your chest, sending a shiver down his spine. You rose to your full height, pulling away slowly until you disconnected from him completely. Even if the contact was nothing more than an attempt at provocation, he missed your touch the moment you detached yourself.
“Well then I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me, my lord,” you enunciated his title tauntingly, the playful lilt in your voice exciting him further. He heard you take several languid steps away from him before you spoke once more. “That is, if you even have a heart that can offer forgiveness.”
Zenos rose to his feet, turning to finally face you. Your back greeted him as you stared up at the myriad of weaponry covering the back wall, the hand that was moments ago atop his chest now gracefully running across the hilt of a long sword. Your fingers lingered on the handle, moving as if you were going to grip it, but never completing the task.
Zenos smiled. You were toying with him.
“You jest,” he spoke, taking a measured step your way, “if anyone has intimate knowledge of the existence of my heart and whom it beats for, it is you.”
Your posture stiffened in acknowledgment of the insinuation, yet you refused to turn his way.
“Is that so,” your voice seemed distant, as if you were unwilling to accept the burden of the intense desire he held for you, “Forgive me, I must have misread the situation. Due to the nature of how our meetings always end, I figured you only ever wanted one thing from me, and that is my blood.”
A low chuckle rumbled from within him, his eyes crinkling in amusement. For all that you were, all the skills and knowledge that you held, you could certainly be dense.
“I desire all you have to offer,” he answered plainly, “Your fury and malice, your rage and rancor, your disdain and desire,” he continued to approach you, each step slow and deliberate as he closed in on your staunch form. “Your love and affection are no different. I want to consume your every thought, just as you consume mine. I want you to taste me in the air you breathe and feel me crawling under your skin, even when I am far removed from your presence.”
He stopped several steps away from you, keeping his distance but lingering close enough that it bordered on intrusive. He raised his hand calmly, reaching out to grab a stray lock of your hair between his fingers. He gingerly caressed the silky strands, smirking when he noted that even such slight contact caused a shudder to lurch your otherwise statuesque form.
“You can play the fool all you want, but you cannot hide the fact that the same beast that dwells in me is also within you. They call out, craving each other to the point of madness. We need each other. This dance we share must continue in perpetuity, lest our fierce yearning for each other’s presence turn us to savages incapable of rational thought, driven to the point of committing mass, undiscriminating destruction as a means to appease ourselves.”
He smirked, placing a gentle kiss atop the tendrils in his hand, before letting it slip from his grasp completely. “And you would do anything to divert that misfortune, would you not hero?”
Your shoulders began to quiver, shaken by the threat of violence he could and would commit simply to be by your side. An impatient sigh escaped his lips, “So come, what better way is there to quench each other’s thirst and prevent calamity than through a mutually beneficial rendezvous? Surely even someone as set in their way as you are is in agreeance.”
“I was under the assumption that you planned on battling me until the world was torn asunder, regardless of if I entertain your perversions or not,” Your voice dripped with disdain as you spat your response at him, “If that is the case, pray tell why I should not cut you down where you stand? Why must the dance continue if the outcome is all the same?”
Your words made the smile on his face grow, stretching his lips to an unnatural degree. Taking another step forward, he leaned in until his mouth grazing the shell of your ear. Placing his hands firmly atop your shoulders, he gave a tight squeeze as he responded.
“Because we share one destiny,” he pressed his cheek flush against your head, inhaling deeply before releasing it in a slow, shaky sigh, “even now as you try so hard to deny me, our fate is intertwined, my warrior. You cannot escape me, and I have no desire to escape you. The dismantling of this world as a result of our conquest is all but inevitable and I welcome it with open arms.”
“I won’t let the world crumble to ash.” Your bold declaration was spoken as if it were fact, the conviction in your voice sending a surge of wanton excitement coursing through his veins. “Say and do as you like, the future you seek will never come to pass.”
Oh, how he adored you.
“Hmm,” he hummed, “You can try and stop me, but you cannot escape what has been predestined.”
During the course of the conversation, your hand had had traveled to the base of an axe, your fingers wrapping around it to grasp the handle in a constricting hold. All of the anger that had been bubbling up reflected in the whites of your knuckles, the tremor of your hand becoming more apparent as your composure slipped further and further. The cool demeanor you initially donned had completely shifted, overridden by the immense agitation his presence was inviting.
The axe was ripped swiftly from the wall, lacking fluidity. There was no care for keeping the wall in tact or making sure all the other weapons that surrounded it stayed in their spot. You ripped it down with one great tug, bits of stone and surrounding armaments clattering noisily into a massive steel heap on the ground as you finally spun around to face him. Zenos had seconds to react as you swung down in a wide arc, the finely sharpened blade slicing easily through the decorative tiling that coated the floor, decimating the ground where he once stood.
“There we are,” Zenos growled in anticipation, sizing you up with a bloodthirsty grin, “you are a vision to behold when you let your ferocity consume you.”
You deigned to answer him, your icy countenance his only response as you straightened your posture, considering your next move. Your distaste for him was clear as you hefted your axe from the ground, dust settling around you as it was freed with a mighty yank. Weapon in hand, you came for him in a relentless torrent, striking at him in a flurry of breakneck swings. In the ensuing madness, he grabbed the nearest weapon he could reach-a sword that was more ornate that functional, but it would serve its purpose for the time being.
The enmity increased as he reciprocated your attacks. Parrying each blow with a steady hand, he responded to your blows with calculated strikes of his own, expertly countering your aggression. The air around the two of you had become electric, charged with hostility and fervor as you hacked away at each other time and time again.
Though frantic, the assault was far from inelegant. Each swing of your axe and swipe of his blade was an orchestrated maneuver befitting the couple who performed them. It was as beautiful as it was fierce, a true force of nature. To an untrained eye the activity would appear as nothing more than a blur of chaos, annihilating all that was in its wake. But to Zenos, a man who had dedicated himself to your study, it was a sight that made his heart ache.
He was witnessing a glorious preamble, a promise forged in battle between himself and his righteous and powerful hero, the only person with whom he ever felt a true connection. This battle, amongst all of its other perks, gave him purpose.
Fighting you, he felt alive. To be the sole receiver of all your ire, your discontent, your undivided attention… it was like a dream. He realized this encounter was most likely just that, a conjuring of your presence from his sleep addled mind, a side effect of his constant ruminations of you. You already occupied each of his waking thoughts, it only made sense that having you visit in his dreams would soon follow.
Be that as it may, the knowledge that this moment lived solely in his mind did little to dissuade his desire to get lost in it, to get lost in you. If he couldn’t have you in the waking world, his dreams would have to suffice, at least for the time being. Besides, there were things he could accomplish in his dreams that would never be plausible elsewhere, moments of intimacy he could forge that would never present a chance of happening in reality.
A particularly rough blow sent Zenos reeling. The sword knocked from his hand scattered just out of reach, his body lurching to an abrupt stop as he collided with rubble that had piled up behind him. A quick glance your way revealed a small smirk ghosting your lips, a hint of satisfaction shining through your hostility. He could see the assurance reflected in your eyes, a swell of pride over the victory you would soon be relishing.
Zenos mirrored your glee, pleased you were having as much fun as he was.
As you hoisted your axe high, thoroughly preoccupied with your pending achievement, Zenos took the moment to strike. Launching himself from the ground, he rammed his body against yours, hitting you hard and fast. The speed at which he closed the gap astounded you as much as the collision had, causing the axe to topple from your hands, skittering out of your reach. A pained grunt escaped your lips as you collided with the ground, Zenos following suit atop you. His hand cradled the back of your head as you fell, catching hold before it could crack against the stony floor. It would do no good to have you suffer injury and pass out now, not as things were about to get truly interesting.
Positioning himself atop your prone form, his body caged you in as you lay beneath him, panting and exhausted. Splayed amongst the rubble, your confusion morphed into a look of annoyance as you realized your situation had drastically changed. Your success had been stolen from you and now the thief had you cornered, trapped right where he wanted.
“I wish you could see yourself as I see you in this moment,” Zenos spoke between his own labored breaths, pressing into you ever further as his face hovered inches from your own, “Disheveled and feral, transformed by your bloodlust, you have never been more breathtaking.”
“I’m not like you,” you retorted sharply, “I don’t revel in such acts of savagery.”
Zenos chuckled, “And yet you seemed quite delighted moments ago when you were convinced victory was within your grasp.” You frowned as his hand found purchase on your chin, gripping it in a tight pinch to keep your focus fixed his way, “But here you are now, bested and at my mercy.”
You grimaced, “I have yet to lose to you. I refuse to concede defeat.”
In response to your bold declaration, he gave a throaty, booming laugh. How was it that you always knew just what to say to drive him absolutely mad with desire?
Unable to contain himself any longer, Zenos smashed his lips to yours, capturing you in a heated and hungry kiss. Your brain took a moment to comprehend the abrupt action, but as it did you began to struggle against it, thrashing and clawing at him in an effort to create distance. Zenos remained firm, making it clear that you had expended far more energy than he had, leaving your assault lacking the power needed to stop him. Whines of displeasure snaked from your mouth as his grip tightened on your chin, squeezing so roughly you couldn’t help but gasp in pain. Eagerly seizing the opportunity, he muscled his tongue inside of you, lapping at the inside of your mouth aggressively. He groaned as he savored the taste of you.
When a need for air arose, he pulled back slightly, staring down at you with lidded eyes. Your saliva coated his lips, giving a glossy sheen as they curled into an offputtingly tranquil smile. His hand moved from your chin to drag languidly across your cheek, the brief touch of his rough finger tips sending a shiver down your spine. Your gaze wavered the longer you stayed trapped in this awkward position, your eyes brimming with uncertainty. You seemed unsure of where to look, what to do, how to escape. In his wishful thinking, Zenos wondered if perhaps you were even unsure if you truly wanted to escape.
Amongst your numerous charms, Zenos found your enigmatic personality to be one of your most appealing. Being such a virtuous being, your motivations, ambition, and drive were all easy enough to sort out. You are Hydaelyn’s chosen, the Warrior of Light, the people’s champion, and you live up to those titles and more. You are a hero through and through, a source of salvation for those you protect and a complete nightmare for those that offer opposition. There is no doubt that you are a force to be reckoned with, no matter what the encounter or situation may be.
And what good hero is without a nemesis? It’s a role the disgraced Prince and betrayer of his kin plays well. In his illustrious life he had gone through the motions, donned many hats, played countless roles, many of which were not of his choosing. But of all his grand titles, your adversary is most certainly his favorite, the only one that gives him any sense of pride. Your existence gave him purpose, and for you alone he kept up the hunt.
But he knew it was different for you. Though cut of the same cloth and driven by destiny to engage him, your feelings did not completely align with his own. You were driven by more than barbarity, more than a duty to save your people and your planet. There was something inside of you, something that made you YOU, that he could never truly know, no matter how desperately he wanted to.
You were his greatest conundrum, a true mystery, and when you look at him as you were now with those eyes that swirled with anger, uncertainty, grief, and something yet unspoken… What was he to do but become a slave to this maddening, consuming attraction?
He gloated about being the victor, but it was clear you would always have the upper hand.
“Get off of me.”
The demand brought him back to the present, sheer determination replacing the conflicting emotions that fought for dominance within you. He could tell by the bite in your voice that your vigor was returning, and given a bit more time and provocation, the battle would gloriously resume.
“Eagar to carry on with our dance, are you?” He responded, an almost teasing lilt to his voice, “Or is it that you just can’t stand the thought of defeat at my hands?
“I already told you, you didn’t defeat me,” you glowered, your rage becoming palpable the longer his unwanted presence loomed, “I came here to end this farce and I plan to do just that.”
A beat of silence passed, followed by a sigh. Parting your lips to speak, your voice came out quieter, more desperate than it had previously.
“I wanted to keep this is civil as possible and respect your wishes as best I could, no matter how twisted they may be. But even for your own benefit, you refuse to entertain the notion of making this situation even the slightest bit amicable. You speak of such lofty things as fate and destiny, but all I am witnessing is you causing unnecessary suffering, hiding behind my name to do so.”
For a split second, another flash of uncertainty danced across your features. You bit your bottom lip in vexation, a glimmer lighting your eyes as they swept across his handsome face, “There is more to this world, more to this life, than waiting for its untimely end. To live out your days perpetuating death and blind havoc is no way to exist, it’s a tragedy. Why can’t you see that? Zenos, I-“
As if taken by surprise, you cut your own words short, silencing the previous thought that had been brewing. Zenos felt as if you looked pained, staring at him with pleading eyes, face scrunched up in frustration. Even with all the hate you carried for him, you were still trying to understand him, still clinging to the hope that maybe you could save him too.
Here, on the cusp of annihilation, you were doing all you could to fulfill the role of hero and protect the people that you loved. In order to fulfill that duty, it meant he must be defeated. There could be no other ending, the inexorable conclusion to all of this was always cold and endless death. Whether it would be all of humanities or just his own was still to be determined, but it did little to change the fact that there was no future to plan for, only a violently rapturous and melancholic end.
To be cherished by you, to feel your love as if he were one of your dearest companions… It was a thought not meant to be dwelled on, but one he found hard to completely shake from his head. How would it feel to be earnestly and unequivocally loved by you? Perhaps in another world, another time, your souls would be reborn and given another chance. A fresh beginning to grow together, an opportunity to nurture something more than the misfortune this world had thrust upon you. Maybe in some alternate telling of this tale the two of you were together and happy, with nothing but a bright future awaiting you on the horizon.
But that was simply a foolish daydream. All that he had, all he could hope for, was the here and now.
You sighed again, steeling your resolve with a shake of your head, “Never mind. You have already proven to me mere words cannot move you, so I will save my breath.”
Raising your torso as much as his hold on you would allow, your eyes bore into his, fully accepting the challenge that lay ahead. Though still restrained, there was an aura of dominance that surrounded you. It was a warning to Zenos that your binds were temporary, whether he released you willingly or otherwise was his decision, but regardless the outcome would be the same.
“If it’s the end you want, it’s the end I will bring you,” your soft words clashed with the look of malice reflected in your eyes, your breath fanning his face as your noses nearly touched. For an instant your eyes darted to his lips, and Zenos wondered if it would be you to instigate the kiss this time.
“I will fulfill my role. I will be your end and your salvation.”
Your words pierced him, the proclamation sending sparks of excitement to course through him, igniting his soul. His whole body burned for you, intense and consuming, his need for you was beginning to show itself in ways beyond his control. Pressing his hips flush between your spread legs, he made his intentions known to you, a shiver wracking his body when you released a small gasp of surprise.
Clutching the remaining shreds of his sanity, he grunted as you writhed against his growing arousal, pulling your body up towards him until he had engulfed you in a tight embrace.
“Enough time has been wasted,” he snarled into your neck, his chest rumbling as his grip on you tightened, “let us deliver a ruin unto ourselves so extraordinary, so beautiful, that naught will remain but the scattered fragments of this forsaken world.”
Loosening his grip, he pressed his lips to your forehead in a chaste, yet gentle, kiss. Your brow furrowed at his touch, shoulders tensing as you drew yourself back from him, recoiling at the small display of adoration. He found the reaction endearing, even with his intentions laid bare and and his hardened cock pressed firmly against your core, it was the smallest token of his affection that caused you to squirm.
Repugnance, hatred, scorn- whatever you felt for him in this moment, none of it mattered, none of it deterred him. He loved you, and he would make that love known in the only way he knew how, while he still had time to do so.
“This shall be my final gift to you,” he purred into your ear, his grip latching securely to your tunic. With nimble hands he started to pull, exposing yourself to him bit by bit as the fabric turned to tatters in his hands. “Let us relish it my friend, my warrior, my beloved. Destroy me, and I shall be your devastation in kind. ”
A pair of ring-shaped stains of hot cocoa left behind on the desk.
That was the first haunted piece of him she discovered after the initial purge of his things from her room. She could not stand to see the remnants, the things left behind after his soul ceased to be, and chose to pack them away and deliver to House Fortemps. “Take them, please, I cannot bear it.”
It nagged, though. A sharp sense of loss, of emptiness.
She forces herself forward, into her duty, picking up odd jobs on the side. She wanted to stay busy, occupied enough to prevent more ghosts from sneaking in, yet no joy was found in helping others. They saw benevolence where she hid her pain— she was only doing it to quiet the noise of blame ringing over and over in her ears. Should have been faster, stronger… should have never let him come…
After the empty, came the numb.
She no longer cared about the lingering stares of others when the lack of sleep formed dark rings under her eyes— a consequent worth the cost, for memories that refused to fade. She begged to forget, not continue to find him in yellow blooms and light blue cloth, in the smell of chocolate and mint, rich and delicate. She swears to never love again, not like this.
But time goes on, as it always does. The loss fades, and wounds heal, the grief now but a small wisp of hurt.
She feels the warm glow of joy in her chest again when helping others. She laughs when Alisaie and Alphinaud bicker, finds fascination with Y’shtola’s theories and Thancred’s attempts at beating her at cards.
Hi again, thank you so much for answering my request. Um may I pls request for the garlean males again ( Zenos and Emet) wherein the WoL so overworked themselves so hard that they got pneumonia and needs to nursed back to health. I am a sucker for sick fics
You're speaking my language girl I love this so much dkflanklf 🧍♀️🍷
Nursing WoL (ft. Emet-Selch & Zenos)
Emet-Selch
There's panic in Emet-Selch's face when he sees the WoL lean against the wall for support before falling to their knees in a coughing fit.
Emet immediately comes to their side; as much as he wanted to tease them for the weakness they're showing him of all people, all his composure disappeared when he saw them cough out blood.
He immediately teleports them to WoL's private quarters in The Pendants and tucks them in their bed.
I'm fine, the WoL says meekly through short, ragged breathing.
"You were never a good liar, Az-"
Emet-Selch stops himself short before he could say the name, and luckily, due to the WoL's sickness it seems that they didn't catch his slip up. He coughs and regain composure.
"Anyhow, you'd best remain in bed. Even you are not immune to extreme fatigue, Hydaelyn's champion."
And just like that, Emet-Selch left. WoL wanted to protest, however at their current strength they find it hard to even lift off the blanket on them. So left without much of a choice, WoL decides to rest for the day.
When WoL awakens again, they see the feint outline of Emet-Selch carrying something. They sit up and lightly rub their eyes to dry off the tears building up before finally looking around their room...
Wait, when did I have this much stuff?
WoL asks to themselves as they see bags that weren't there before. Emet-Selch was too busy putting down the most recently bought items to notice the WoL weakly standing up to their way.
"If memory serves me correctly, mortals eat soup to help them feel better."
Though not really speaking to anyone in particular, Emet is taken aback when he hears a feint yes come from behind him.
"By the gods, what are you doing up?"
Emet does not even wait for an answer for them as they accompany the WoL back to their bed. The famed warrior asked Emet-Selch why they were suddenly helping them when they remember he specifically stated that he would merely watch over WoL. Emet merely clicks his tongue.
"Really? That's the gratitude I get for helping you?"
As Emet tucks WoL back in their bed, they smile weakly at Emet and say a small thank you before turning the other way, hoping to rest a bit more before the soup was ready.
Fortunately for him, WoL didn't get to see the heart-warmed smile Emet made as fond memories of the past are brought up to the surface of his mind.
Zenos Yae Galvus
Zenos chuckles. He finds it ironic to see the WoL fall weak to their knees just as they were about to land a blow on him.
"What's wrong, dear friend?"
He asks with fake concern as he goes down to their level and forces the wheezing WoL to look up at him.
"Has playing hero become too hard on you?"
Zenos taunts, only irking Hydaelyn's champion even more. The mighty warrior once more tries to stand on their feet and swing their weapon, however they find that they could barely lift themselves up, much less their weapon. They fall into a coughing fit and fall right back to their knees.
When Zenos comes close to WoL, they close their eyes, ready for their foe to land the fatal blow...
...Or so they hoped. Zenos instead grabs WoL and slings them over his shoulder, like a sack of luggage.
WoL tries to resist in his hold, but Zenos is unfazed and wholly amused.
"My friend, I cannot tell you just how excited it gets me to feel you squirm in my grasp."
Zenos teases, knowing full well that it would get Eorzea's champion to stop. WoL, finally letting the fatigue and tiredness set in (as they didn't have much of a choice), falls fast asleep.
And they wake up in an unfamiliar room, filled with intricate and fancy decors. They also take notice of the bed they were on, it was large and spacious, with curtains draped around it.
Once again, looking at their surroundings, WoL takes note of their weapon and armor sitting in a corner of the room far off from them. This makes them look down to their person, realizing that only their undergarments remained.
"I see you've finally awoken, my friend."
Zenos places a bowl down on to the bedside drawer as WoL glares holes into the Garlean male.
"Worry not, I didn't do anything to you. If I did, you wouldn't be awake right now, wouldn't you agree?"
Still, WoL keeps their guard up. Still, it was hard to stay alert when their chest felt like it was being pierced and sweating horribly despite being idle.
"You can continue to waste you time holding your guard up, or you could simply relax and let yourself recover."
Dubious of his actions, the WoL asks why Zenos didn't just kill them then and there and why go through the effort of nursing them.
"Because I refuse to let you die such a cowardly death. I want to kill you with my own to hands when you're at your strongest; when you're at most dazzling and beautiful, my beloved friend and deadliest foe."
me: Alea hates Zenos, she tries to see the good in everyone but she cannot stand the harm Zenos causes for his own amusement
also me: Alea hasn’t let anyone get too close to her after Haurchefant died and Zenos has forcibly put himself close to her, she is attached to him in ways she doesn’t want to talk, let alone think, about because that would be admitting that she is going against everything she stands for as the Warrior of Light
also also me: Zenos killing himself in front of Alea brings her back to watching Haurchefant bleed out in front of her after shielding her from the spear, Zenos put his own blade to his neck for her as Haurchefant put his shield up for her; and after so much trauma, so much loss, so much blood on her hands she can no longer distinguish between Haurchefants and Zenos’s
also also also me: i want Alea and Zenos to kiss while crying because neither has had someone be soft with them in a very long time if ever
The WoL Catches A Cold *a-choo* - feat. The Ishgard Elf Husbands, G'raha Tia, Ardbert, Hien & Zenos
@eidechsejaspis asked:
Hello again:)
As new season of coughs ans sneezes approaches I have a question of how would Scions (choose any you like), Aymeric and Zenos (where would we go without him?) react on WoL catching serious cold? Time period is at your liking from Heavenward to adventures in Garlemald:)
Thank you in advance:)
It is sniffles season again! Thank you for asking, this was a really fun one to get back into HC writing with!
Aymeric
In moments you think he's not watching, he is. He adores the way you wince when reading an unpleasant part of a book, how you fidget in Alliance meetings, even the little whistle of your snore. Aymeric notices your first sneeze. It's hard to get allergies in Coerthas, and he recognizes the hacking from your lungs a few days later. This comes for everyone sooner or later, and politely asks you to quarantine yourself for a few days.
He isn't one to miss work to care for a sick partner or spouse but has a very attentive nurse stationed nearby
He has given his full itinerary for the next several days so he can be alerted as soon as you wake up from a much needed, multi-day sleep
Aymeric wouldn't argue that he knows cooking well, but he does make a point to assist in the kitchen after work to make sure that you have soup recommended by the best chirugeon available
He will dodge kisses from you for days to avoid becoming sick himself, but it's too late anyways
When Aymeric finds himself bedridden for a few days, he decides that it was worthwhile to give you that forehead kiss as you slept
Estinien
Estinien is familiar with sickness. Long campaigns through the newly snowy Coerthas as a young knight taught him much of seasonal illnesses. He's seen many a friend drink their weight in bitter root soups, gnaw on wild herbs, and the like to push through it until they can get home. He's seen you sick before. Still, he has some lingering anxiety. You looked far worse than a little aetheryte sickness. He's lost much and more, the thought nags at him that more concern might be warranted.
Estinien has his hands full with travel these days and assures you that he will indeed make it to tea with Vritra tomorrow afternoon
He does not make it to tea with Vritra
Estinien deftly slips into the bedroom but there was no need, you had been out cold for hours by then
He would like to keep his friend from waiting, but not until he's sure that your breathing is steady and your temperature not too high
What a sight to see! Had you been awake, you might have heard Estinien's dress shoes pacing along the floor, his hand nearly to his linkpearl while paralyzed by indecision on whether to cancel or not
He cautiously leaves a glass of water and your linkpearl on the bedside table, just in case, though he may never admit that it was he who placed both there
When he does return home, perhaps an hour earlier than expected, he denies all concern as he settles into bed beside you
Haurchefant
While he's not a sadist, Haurchefant absolutely loves the sight of you ill. You're always off somewhere, but for this small bubble of time, you're here. You're sipping hot chocolate and letting him read poetry to you rather than mailing it off to some distant locale. He can watch your tired face grin and sigh rather than imagining it alone from Camp Dragonhead.
His favorite thing to make for you, of course. Hot chocolate, every day you're sick. No matter how hard it is to get chocolate in Coerthas, no matter how many tall tales he must tell to provision it, you wake up to hot chocolate beside your bed every morning.
"You don't need caffeine, anyways, you need something calming and a smile."
He knows he'll get sick if he sleeps next to you every night, but he's forewarned Camp Dragonhead. Emmanellain can hold his seat for a fortnight, it could be good practice for him.
Haurchefant watches you sleep, sliding his hand under the covers to grasp yours. For once, the cuts and bruises all over you are starting to heal. Days off the road, finally given rest. He wishes you both had more days like this.
G'raha Tia
Just as your new adventures together have begun, you fail to keep up. You run a little slower, stopping after a few paces to lean into a cough, heavy sneezes punctuating the blows you attempt to land on monsters. G'raha is quick to notice but slow to bring it up.
He frets, wringing his hands beside you as you ready yourself for the day, struggling to put on your clothes. As you sigh in failure, dropping yourself onto the bed, G'raha can't help himself.
"You can admit you're sick. I know you've been on the road for a long time. Even with the help of your friends, the path you walk is a lonely one. But you're not alone this time. Let yourself rest and let me take care of the other things that come along?"
G'raha fields the many requests sent your way, trying his best to fulfill them, wondering how you do it all at full health.
In quieter moments, he finds his way to The Last Stand to get your favorite dinner, absolutely purring as he watches your sleepy smile. Alas, your sense of smell is back! You knew exactly what he'd brought you as soon as he opened the bag!
He can't help but laugh to himself as you find yourself exhausted from the walk from your bed to the dining table, cracking jokes about his hero losing the greatest battle thus far.
G'raha's excitement knows no bounds when you announce that you're well enough to continue your travels together. The ruddy cheeks, the soft ear wiggle. No sickness can stop his hero for long.
Ardbert
(Assuming Ardbert is no longer a ghost!)
Ardbert is restless. He hasn't seen an open field, a forest, an ocean in days. He wonders if it's unsupportive to ask if you'd mind if he pops out for a fishing trip tomorrow. Perhaps if you're a little better in the morning?
He's not heartless, he left some hot tea beside your bed and made sure your medicines were in reach.
Though he did have some guilt by the third hour of his fishing adventure. The pangs of guilt grew until an idea sprouted from them.
He racked his mind as he navigated the markets. He had enough fish, but the right peppers...which peppers were correct. Tomatoes. Cream. Potatoes. Something was missing, some spice.
Ardbert has made a mess of things. He has put out the kitchen fire, somehow there are no more clean pots and pans. Yet, the soup is complete! It was his mother's recipe, it always had him right as rain after a day or so.
Though you tried your best to hold a straight face, the soup was...I don't know if it's fair to call it a soup. He looks absolutely crushed.
You fall asleep while he strokes your hair, his head pressed against yours as he told you stories. About Kholusia, fishing for cod with his father, his mother's miracle soup. He asks what they made where you're from, but it's too late. You've already drifted off, dreaming about magic fish.
Oddly enough, from a couple of sips of Ardbert's attempted soup, you feel some measure better. He, on the other hand, has the same horrible wheezing cough you had a day before.
Hien
Hien is not the biggest believer in staying bedridden in a sealed room while sick. He frowns, hating to see you suffer, but a thought springs to mind as he twirls your lank, sweaty hair between his fingers.
The clean air of the Azim Steppe is just as promised. During the day, he haggles in the markets for the best Dzo to make stews, the best leaves to make tea. All while you watch the clouds pass from the hammock outside of your yurt.
It's hard to leave the hammock, not only for the comfort. Where else could you see so many stars? Hien points to his favorites, the brightest, the funniest shapes some constellations make.
There wasn't much for entertainment, but watching Hien in the distance sparring with friends was a welcome sight.
After a few days, he encourages you to come with him. On a little walk, at least. Another day, just a little spar. How do you know you're well if you don't test your skills?
The break from all the noise, the responsibilities, becomes intoxicating to you after some time. Hien never has to rush to some meeting, you never need to leave to be flung at a new problem.
You've been better for a week now, finding yourself testing your sharpness with Hien and his friends every morning. Though you may have been hesitant to travel while sick, the time spent together was precious. Perhaps next time you won't have to be sick to convince yourself to take a break.
Zenos
He's seen you weakened before, brought to your knees by your own frailty. It disappoints him and yet, he's fascinated by it in a way he doesn't quite understand. How could someone so pitiful occupy every hour of his day?
Zenos doesn't agree with the chirugeon, you could power through this with sheer force of will and merely shrugs as the medicines are set on the table.
This could not be what ends the object of his obsession, his first friend. He regularly checks that you're still breathing. He leans in too close to hear that your heart is still beating, only to be rewarded by a wheezing cough into his hair.
His size is quite the advantage, it's not a challenge for him to carry you from place to place. He leans low to the ground, scooping you up as the sight of you exhausted from standing up only leaves him with disgust.
Still, when you fall asleep each night, he leans his head to your chest. Your heart still beats, your skin glittering with sweat. He knew he would see you like this on another day, performing the great feats that brought him to you in the first place. Though he never understood your reasons, he knew you'd be back to fighting the mesmerizing fights that led the two of you here. To share a bed, a home, a life.
