Pawacelsus
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Of Hearth and a Type of Home by Lemureshroud (Pawacelsus), Pawacelsus
Fandoms: Final Fantasy XIV
18 Nov 2025
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Summary
Cast to the unforgiving frosts of the Western Coerthean Highlands, a young duskwight elezen finds herself on the verge of death after raising a hand against injustice perpetrated by Ishgard's temple knights. When all hope seems lost for the young woman, however, she is stumbled upon by a band of heretics--what she herself has just been deemed-- who take it upon themselves to save her. Desperate to make up for her failures to be a hero within Ishgard, and desperate to show the depths of gratitude to The Disciples of Saint Shiva, she offers up everything she has to one Lady Iceheart, up to her own newfound life
(An AU for my Warrior of Light--what if she grew up in Ishgard, rather than in Gridania, and met Lady Iceheart much sooner than she did in canon? Tags will be expanded as the fic goes on)
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Iverelle turns her head to study Ysayle. She’s no longer looking at Iverelle, and she is no longer smiling, her head instead tilted up towards the sky. Her neck is long. Her collar bones peek out through the gaps in the fabric of her robes. Why does Iverelle notice them? Umbral winds send motes of drifting aether across the sky, crackling magic deep within the clouds igniting the sky in glorious greens and beautiful blues. The light paints Ysayle’s canvas-white face in a myriad of cool tones, giving the appearance not of a woman but of something ethereal, ephemeral, something more. In the distance, a dragon patrols the sky, presumably hunting something far below. Further, there would be moogles going about their business. Further still was Sohm Al; beyond that, nothing worth mentioning. Iverelle wonders if she were to reach out and touch her, if she would fade away–a ghost, and nothing more.
(On a cold and lonely night, Ysayle reaches out to the Warrior of Light for company. Unfortunately, the Warrior of Light can't help but pick a fight where there isn't one to be found.)
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Summary
And so, as it was ordained by the stars upon conception of the universe, Iverelle Vauvenelle died.
T’was not a pretty death, either–it was bloody and it was painful. She fought with all her might, with every noble and dirty trick she had, desperation fueling her every swing of her scythe, but it was not enough.
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You loved how the rot churned within you, and how you expelled it like a rancid bile. You loved watching it consume your foes, and you loved the sting it brought to your muscles. How funny–the decay and the rot made you feel alive. Wouldn’t that be ironic? That bringing yourself to ruin is what made you feel like a person again?
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Hey gamers, this is just a place for me to store my super epic and totally not at all augh fics <3 DD2's early access is out and I played 14 hours on the first day and the only reason I'm not playing now is because I fucked up my game and can't get it to launch (seriously if anybody knows how to fix it never getting past the loading screen please help me i miss my heroes and i was profile level 20 :[)
Fics will be identified through chapters (with the character POV listed) and tags and such will be in the notes. Dunno how often this will update, this is just for me to keep my stuff babey! Most of this stuff is unedited, so excuse typos and incorrect word choices.