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kylenne.etheirys.social
fun! #aurorawrites
November 26, 2024 at 8:23 PM
kylenne.etheirys.social
His Shadow is Our Shield:
On House Surana, Second House of Menzoberranzan

www.tumblr.com/elfyourmothe...

[ #GisFR | #aurorawrites ]
September 29, 2025 at 5:16 PM
kylenne.etheirys.social
i forgot how good that imani/hackett smut was fjcjcjhccn anyway here archiveofourown.org/works/12663648 #aurorawrites
July 8, 2025 at 6:47 PM
kylenne.etheirys.social
#aurorawrites
Gisele sighed, and with a gentle rush of aether and sharp focus of will, extended a graceful hand to set the kindling nestled within the firepit alight.
June 25, 2025 at 4:54 PM
kylenne.etheirys.social
#aurorawrites

qrp because I fucked up my own hashtag but this old ffxivwrite drabble is still so fucking funny to me and I laugh literally every time I think about it
January 6, 2026 at 9:49 PM
kylenne.etheirys.social
The Madness of King Aymeric, reposted from twt. I’m still really proud of this story, as painful as it is.

but what became of Zenos? it is whispered that he threw open the gates of the city to the Ishgardians and walked away into the night, never to be seen again. #gipose #gislore #aurorawrites
kylenne.etheirys.social Jellicle Aurora Thee Elezen 🏀KNICKS IN 5🏀 @kylenne.etheirys.social · Jan 16
Princess Gisèle wir Galvus, wife of Crown Prince Zenos yae Galvus. In the Exarch's timeline, Zenos was captured by the Resistance. For the return of his heir Emperor Varis withdrew from Doma and Ala Mhigo, but Zenos' price was Gisèle. She wed him in order to take down Garlemald from the inside.(1/9)
A brown skinned Black Elezen woman, Gisèle, wandering through the halls of a palace, garbed in Garlean finery: a horned crown, black silk robes with leather and gold accessories. The same woman, Gisèle, being held from behind by Zenos. She leans back against him, swooning in his arms. Empress Gisèle zos Galvus seated upon a throne, her expression hard and remorseless. Zenos leans casually against the back of the throne,
January 16, 2025 at 1:33 AM
kylenne.etheirys.social
#1W3L | #aurorawrites
Neither laurels nor cheers were there to greet her return as once they might have, merely silence; thick, oppressive, suffocating her to the last hitched breath she held despite all reason. These sands did not wake, it seemed, but were still in their dreaming, still in a solitude bitter and without end. It should have been me, Gisèle thought, gazing out over a table full of empty chairs.
June 17, 2025 at 8:38 PM
kylenne.etheirys.social
from the coronation wip.

#wipwednesday #aurorawrites
Gisèle bore the blade of his coronation, Joyeuse; within her delicate hands did she grip the spiralling hilt and hold the heavy blade upwards before her, perfectly parallel with the height of her body, though the point towered far above her. There was steel as yet within so lovely a flower, Aymeric thought with affection, silently marveling at how she managed it without faltering an ilm. Even bearing such a burden, she was the picture of grace like unto the Fury Herself, Halone's Chosen as much as the Mothercrystal's. Aymeric fixed his eyes upon her back, tall and straight. Bedecked with stars of tiny seed pearls that sparkled in the soft glow of the candlelight, she was no less than his own guiding star in that moment, anchoring him, the lodestone by which he found his bearing once more, his feet marking the slow rhythm of the stately pace with ease.
March 25, 2026 at 5:51 PM
kylenne.etheirys.social
#1W3L | #aurorawrites
Delicate golden light streamed through the stained glass above them, and through heavy lids did Gisèle marvel rapturously at dazzling hues of soft azure and gold dancing along skin still flushed in the aftermath of shared pleasure. In the stillness did she gaze across the well hewn body to which she clung, and was idly mesmerized by Ysayle’s arm draped across his great shimmering scar, rising and falling in a subtle rhythm with his gentle, steady breaths. The serenity writ in tender smiles, in loving eyes closed in peaceful slumber, filled her heart near to bursting that it ached beneath her breast; she could not help but softly press her carmine-stained lips against his shoulder, and lift the hand which rested presently upon his heart, to tenderly caress her cheek.
June 17, 2025 at 1:52 PM
kylenne.etheirys.social
#1W3L | #aurorawrites
Her senses were filled by the heady scent, earthy and floral by turns, of leaves and dried flowers in a soft rainbow of colors, the bounty of her private Meghaduta garden; as she gently raked her fingers through them, complex harmony of fragrance began to take shape, there in the polished wooden bowl. Once satisfied with her latest composition, Gisèle carefully filled a rosy square of fine-spun Thavnairian silk with the blend, and though her fingers were stained with the detritus of shed petals and oils, still deftly looped the soft fabric into a perfect knot, then to tie it off with a satisfying bow. Twas an extravagance to be sure, turning a piece of the finest brocade upon the star—a satrap's own ransom-into a mere sachet for potpourri, but Gisèle smiled down upon it, firm in her conviction that the Lord of Doma deserved no less.
June 17, 2025 at 3:31 AM
kylenne.etheirys.social
from the coronation wip.

#aurorawrites
They both were political creatures by will and necessity, and if she bore him an onze of resentment for basking in her glory that its lustre might burnish his own, still it did not show; for they'd shared a deep, unspoken understanding, from that very first parley in the intercessory of Camp Dragonhead what seemed now a lifetime past. Little wonder, for she came from no better stock than he, mayhap the lesser; she, too, knew what it meant to bear the weight of scrutiny, to dance that blade's edge. Once more, he could not help but rest his gaze upon her, as her own beheld the city which had so surprisingly come to embrace her. And, once more, he found himself soaking in the warmth of her beauty, and her natural grace, his taut nerves settling as he did. She was radiant, quite befitting her heroic epithet, and regal even through the strange pall of melancholy which had settled over her. Would that she could be crowned at his side this day, for he and Ishgard could have no better queen.
March 11, 2026 at 6:55 PM
kylenne.etheirys.social
#1W3L | #aurorawrites
A wreath of driancoin, woven by her own skilled hands with love, did she lay propped against a shimmering blade plunged into the earth; twas forged of mythrite steel that would never rust, holy Ascalon. And though the wind yet howled, filled the biting and stinging of icy frost, still she sank to her knees; her heavy woolen skirts sinking further still into the fresh drift. Through the dull gray skies the lights of the city glowed softly in the distance far below the rocky plateau, kept safe by eternal vigil cast in Azure, and Gisèle wept for the beauty in it, even as she kept her own, for Him.
June 17, 2025 at 11:21 AM
kylenne.etheirys.social
time to get back in the saddle, and this is as good a way as any I think. pardon the rust, it’s been a minute.

#GisFR
#aurorawrites
#sixsentencesaturday
Six Sentence Saturday 3/8/25 "Come back." His voice, low and dark and soft as velvet, reached down for her from above, and twas as a lodestone guiding her gently back to ground. She clung to it, and in so doing the ever familiar crimson haze which had settled over her vision began to part as clouds in the inky blackness of the sky, bringing with it the return of the forest's nocturnal symphony--cicadas singing in the distant grass, the distinctive clicking of katydids among the trees. She drank in these sounds, along with his voice, grounding herself once more in the material, in the earth beneath their sweat-soaked bodies, in the pleasant ache which suffused her limp, sated body with the lingering kiss of the lash, and gazed up at him with wide eyes unclouded by rapturous trance though nonetheless top filled with wonder. She reached up with a limp, trembling hand to caress the deep groove carved into his sharp cheek; his olive skin was still flush with shared pleasure, hot to the touch. Abdirak smiled at Gisèle, and brushed an errant silver ringlet from her dampened brow, before pressing his scarred lips against it with tenderness enough to make her weep.
March 9, 2025 at 6:52 PM
kylenne.etheirys.social
anyway if y’all want to read a fic abt compersion and unconditional love and how Ysayle survived in Gisèleverse y’all should read lonely is our ward. archiveofourown.org/works/51430402 #aurorawrites #ffxivfic #gisayle
• Lonely is Our Ward Kylenne Summary• For the Chosen daughters of Hydaelyn, the road goes ever on and on. Notes: Written for Wolysayle Week 2023 Day 3: Cold + Secrets AO3 tags: Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/F, Multi, Other Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV Relationships: Ysayle Dangoulain/Warrior of Light, Ysayle Dangoulain & Minfilia Warde, Minfilia Warde/Warrior of Light Characters: Ysayle Dangoulain, Minfilia Warde, Ryne | Minfilia, Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Elezen - Character Additional Tags: Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Femslash, Ysayle Dangoulain Lives, Minor Ysayle Dangoulain/Estinien Wyrmblood, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, metamour relationship, Bisexual Female Character of Color, Bisexual Female Character, Gisele Surana (OC), Isekai protagonist, Alternate Canon, Elezen Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV) Language: English
January 29, 2025 at 8:42 PM
kylenne.etheirys.social
From the coronation WIP, a snip about logistics and the message they send.

#aurorawrites | #WIPSnips
For all Americ's intended aims of reaching back into the mists of ages lost to forge anew the lodestar of his people, much regarding this day was as uncharted as once were the Sea of Clouds. Protocols were carefully considered, and deliberated with vigor with the High Houses; for they who held that vacant throne in their care for a thousand years must by necessity hold the greatest sway in the manner by which it would be occupied once more at long last. And upon many trivialities, Americ acquiesced, for he cared little for the particulars of which page marched where or the order of heraldries. But upon one point, he remained steadfast: the procession to the Vault would begin not from Saint Reymanaud's Cathedral as the High Houses and the Church wished, but from the Congregation of Our Knights Most Heavenly. Before aught else, Aymeric was a knight of the Fury, and a knight he would remain even after they made him somewhat more.
January 1, 2026 at 6:38 PM
kylenne.etheirys.social
#1W3L | #aurorawrites | #gisgaius
Calloused hands, so strong yet trembling with uncertainty, drew her against him, and he was taut as a bowstring when she leaned into him, his body betraying the want he so desperately tried to conceal with measured words of formality. She lifted softer hands to run her fingers through his thick, silky locks, and marveled that it was still somehow black as the midnight sky despite the passage of his years, despite the blood which stained those calloused old soldier’s hands, despite the weight of an ill-gotten crown, despite a lifetime of bitterest regrets., despite the shadow cast within steely eyes which burned with hunger each time they fell upon her, even from the first, even when they were sworn foes. And she could not help but her hands remembered, her lips remembered, every ilm of her quickening flesh remembered; and ere his hot breath against her skin stole all semblance of thought from her, she dared but a moment to wonder if memory—of Redcliffe, of Eulmore—played her false.
July 10, 2026 at 4:32 AM
kylenne.etheirys.social
#1W3L | #aurorawrites
As she lifted the gleaming rubellite crystal to rest upon the spiralling, gilded hilt of her delicate blade, Gisèle’s every movement was deliberate and filled with exquisite, fluid grace. An endless, nigh fathomless wellspring of power flowed through every ilm of her body, sharply stiffening the fine hairs upon her well-muscled arms, yet she drew it forth with the ease of breath, and traced enormous, spiraling glyphs upon the broken stones in a perfect mirror of obsidian and ivory by naught but her will. But though a veritable tempest of aether did swell and rage about her, still serenity found the Sorceress of Light; and as always, she stood as the tranquil eye at its center, ever the Balance between contradictions, she who was named Avatar of Destruction and Vessel of Restoration —even as all was consumed in a dazzling, transcendent burst of Black and White.
July 9, 2026 at 11:54 PM
kylenne.etheirys.social
#1W3L | #aurorawrites | #giscred
Twas so simple a thing even for a mind as keen as hers to set idle thoughts adrift upon flights of fancy, even when engrossed in so gripping a treatise as the one laid bare before her ravenous eyes. As they traced the delicate, tantalizing lines of the illustration, her pulse quickened, and mere ink upon a parchment page waxed scintillating images in the vaults of her mind, transmuted through the alchemy of desire. And oh how it rose within her, swelling like the raging tide, to consider those hands upon the page as his, the bodies entwined as their own—as upon that first night in the city—and she smiled.
July 9, 2026 at 11:12 PM
kylenne.etheirys.social
#1W3L | #aurorawrites | #gisemet
Her slender fingers fair danced across taut strings, plucking out a dulcet harmony in playful staccato as if of their own accord, as though it were plucked from the fathomless depths of her heart. She glanced up, only for the briefest of moments, and dazzling violet locked upon gold; but the gold held a hint of lachrymal sheen in the firelight, and would not let the violet go. Her fingers did not falter upon the nine stringed kithara, even so; nor did the soprano sung in tender accompaniment, even when it was joined by the softest of tenor no less beautiful, flitting together as doves spiraling into the night sky.
July 8, 2026 at 1:11 AM
kylenne.etheirys.social
#1W3L | #aurorawrites | #gisaymeric
Deep below the ice entombed earth, in a decrepit chamber of crumbling stone stained by rusty ichor and faded sigils, an incantation lost to time surged forth from carmined lips; holy verse in a long dead tongue crackled with power, echoing in the musty air as a cleansing wind. What was a fine silver marquist’s needle within her grasp became a shaft of blazing light, and twas though her deft hands were led by souls of the distant Lost City, to pour out the serenity of the White from her boundless heart, piercing his flesh to meticulously trace ancient runes of succor and sigils of protection across his back, ilm by painstaking ilm. But Aymeric did not flinch, though he clung to the stone altar with labored breath, and when she turned him upon his freshly limned back, Gisèle lowered her tender gaze to meet his; marveling at how such exquisite steel-blue reflected the dim candlelight which encircled them, gleaming with preternatural beauty in the darkness, she was minded of her purpose.
July 10, 2026 at 3:43 AM
kylenne.etheirys.social
#1W3L | #aurorawrites
Words of power enunciated sharply from carmine-stained lips, thundering as she raised her arms to the heavens, and the Ewer filled her, filled her as though she no longer stood in a throne room turned abbatoir, but was far across the Salt, crawling upon the blazing sands of the Sagolii desperate for but a drop of respite. She made of herself with such incantations a vessel to mirror His own, desperate and yearning, and His waters filled her, filled her—O, my Lord… And her heart filled to bursting; there was no marking where such transcendence ended and she began, bathed in such perfect azure light as those waters within—and ‘twas nearly too much for one Elezen to bear, even one formed by the Mothercrystal—but she was steadfast, not fighting the tide rising within her but submitting in perfect love and trust, and laid her trembling hands upon the heart which labored and faltered beneath bloody, leathery scales, praying the light of those waters would be enough to stir it once more.
July 8, 2026 at 1:58 AM
kylenne.etheirys.social
#1W3L | #aurorawrites | #gisayle
A fine spun thread of cerulean silk, twisting and turning every which way but that she desired, nigh taunted her as it danced mischievously upon the slender eye of her gilt-edged needle, flirting with the edges a third and fourth time as might a coy lover, but never through it, tabarnak! To think, upon so delicate a thing should rest a garment entire! Gisèle scoffed at last in a final fit of exasperation, and flung the damned thing from her—spool and all—at precisely the wrong moment, for she could only stare aghast as it suddenly met with a pitiful thwap the pale décolletage of her wife, who stood upon the threshold of her atelier, and winced.
July 8, 2026 at 3:17 AM
kylenne.etheirys.social
#1W3L | #aurorawrites | #gishien
Stood silently upon the wooden deck of a small, nondescript vessel—scarcely more than a dinghy, of a surety—the verses of Hingashi poets came to her unbidden, rising from the depths of memory to drift as idle flotsam upon the gentle waters of the One River: The blossoms of Spring are all the more precious, for so briefly they bloom. She clung to such verse, writ so elegantly in delicate ink, and gazed upon her beautiful lord as he grew ever distant upon the shrinking shore of the Enclave, and she drifted from him—she, the evanescent petal, borne as ever upon the azure winds of fate.
July 8, 2026 at 3:40 AM
kylenne.etheirys.social
#aurorawrites

This is from a fun post 6.0 WIP where Haurche brought Gisèle and Zenos to a secluded hunting lodge owned by House Fortemps for the beginning of his recovery, essentially stashing him there for political reasons.
There was a deadly manner of poetry in it; mayhap somewhat which spoke to Gisèle's Trouvère soul, but the very breath was caught in her throat as she gazed out over them. With blades drawn did they circle one another as snowflakes drifted down upon them from the murky skies of the Western Highlands, the Exile Prince of Garlemald and an Ishgardian Prince of the Blood, lighting sparks in the frigid air as steel met steel. Golden hair whipped in the briskness of a wintry gust, as did the oxblood mantle bearing the scarlet unicorn. They did not spar so much as dance upon the snows, Zenos and Haurchefant, the only spots of color upon that endless, blinding sea of white. And they were well matched in their dance, Gisèle thought as she idly sipped her chocolate, warmth seeping through her chest. This was not the rout it had been at Rhalgr's Reach, when it was no sparring match but deadly combat between foes, and the Garlean warrior-prince cast her beloved knight aside as though he were little but a child's ragdoll, what now seemed a lifetime ago. Nay, Haurchefant parried Zenos' powerful blows with ease, pressing forward undaunted to answer each challenge with one of his own. One would never know that he was late to the gunblade, to see it, for he wielded it with an elegance and supreme confidence of one born to it.
February 3, 2025 at 11:08 PM
kylenne.etheirys.social
From the coronation fic that’s giving me fits. #aurorawrites
Ever silent She was, stern and serene in Her regality though She was not so large as the great statue in Saint Reymanaud's, for the Temple Knights' smalles chapel was itself not so large, being a small, intimate sanctuary. Still, the statue of Halone loomed tall over the rounded chamber, bathed in dimly glowing candlelight. At so early an hour, not even the incense was lit, with only the lingering scent of sweet resin upon the air; but this, too, suited Aymeric's somber mood. There would be time enough indeed for offerings of frankincense made in rejoicing this day, by others; his heart, melancholy and unsure, could not bear it as yet.
February 12, 2025 at 7:39 PM