#especially after he becomes known as the wol

[blindingspark]

Feather Light

Meeting in the late hours in a place between the Gyr Abanian peaks and the Empire-controlled capital of Ala Mhigo, the Warrior of Light and crown prince find themselves indulging in learning more of their adversary and companion- drawing back layers only permitted to be seen by the other.

Rating: General

Pairing: Zenos/WoL

Notes: In this house we go full throttle with touch-starved!Zenos

The arrangement had started curiously at best after their fateful second meeting across the sea in Doma; sneaking away in the dead of night beneath the nose of the Resistance with the next in line for Garlemalds throne to share in his company, even if the Crown Prince viewed the role itself as nothing more than a title and an obligation.

As the days passed, however, the prince and the 'Warrior of Light' - sworn enemies on paper and in battle- had begun to linger in the others presence more often as they learned more of the other beyond their titles, beyond the facades they wore in front of their peers; simply two souls with more restlessness than they could openly admit.

A small abandoned town within the Gyr Abanian peaks had become a secret meeting place for them, and had somehow managed to remain free from intrusions on either side of the conflict; the matter of being discovered was not an if, but a when, which hung over the two like a thick fog; oft being pushed aside with another bout of reassurances that the next time would be the last meeting, as weakly said as someone who hesitated letting another go...

"Do you know this one?" Zenos' voice, calm as a rolling wave, carried through the air in the worn church they had explored this night and to the au ra's ear, pulling their attention away from the musty old books they had begun to lightly skim through. He stood with his back to them, glancing over his shoulder before motioning with a nod of the head to the statue looming at the far end.

Their brow furrowed, walking up the aisle as they tried deciphering the figure beneath the poor lighting and untended overgrowth,

"Hmmh… Nymeia perhaps," they muttered, now standing beside the garlean prince, mirroring his stance and crossing their arms, "Watcher of the celestial bodies, goddess of fate…"

They looked sidelong up at their confidant, "I thought you would have known about them, purely for the sake of knowledge."

He hummed faintly, "Studied, aye… but I've no need to remember their every detail."

The mage nodded, their gaze lingering on him as he seemed… calm, a genuine calm that was unlike his steady, unmoving coldness upon the battlefield.

“Which of these deities have you sworn yourself to, I wonder,” he thought aloud, shifting his weight from one boot to the other, “Perhaps by true belief, or happenstance from your upbringing?”

“Curious of my past now, are you?” they mused, catching a glimpse of a smirk from him in their peripheral and running their fingers through their hair, stopping mid-stroke as they pondered, “I grew up in a household that revered the kami and one of the Twelve, though it was more out of familiarity than unquestioning worship, especially after we had left the Steppe. I had taken to studying the Twelve as a whole during my days in Kugane, however, and admittedly still only have general knowledge of them… I find them rather fascinating, regardless.”

He uttered a grunt of acknowledgement as he listened, prompting Auri to tilt their head as they looked at him and gave a teasing grin, “No biting remark about my ‘savage’ beliefs or that of my family?”

“Not this time, I’m afraid,” he chuckled dryly, “You and I grew up in vastly different worlds, though that is certainly unquestionable…" a pause, "I wonder what your family would say.”

Their brow perked, “About you?”

He remained silent, allowing the mage to finish ruffling their hair this time, “I’m sure they would be stunned, to say the least. We largely kept out of the way of the Empire, so learning their child has grown close with the current Crown Prince would certainly throw them for a loop.”

This coaxed a softened sound from him, “Indeed.”

“May I…” they began after a moment of thought, weighing where they stood and wondering if they were about to tread into precarious territory… “May as I ask about yours?”

A heavy silence followed, and Zenos’ gaze fell to the base of the statue; the impression that it had been some time since he had recalled such details was not lost to the au ra,

“What is there to say…? I scarce knew my dame- she grew ill and passed not long after I was born, and my sire… His Radiance, seldom acknowledged me. It was oft months between when I would see him, leaving me to learn, to train, to exist surrounded by caretakers who had no more humanity in their actions than automatons. Going about their days in idle routine and appeasing my father simply by keeping me alive and tended to.”

A chill slowly crept through Auri as they listened, watching his unbothered posture and expression as he spoke of his childhood- the myriad of emotions stewing within themselves at learning such a personal part of their companions past… slowly piecing together how Zenos grew into the man that stood before them now.

Subconsciously, their hand reached out and lightly touched his forearm, seeing his brows furrow and light blue eyes lock onto their hand- which they retrieved immediately,

“I- I’m sorry I should have…” they exhaled through their nose, craning their neck to look up at him directly, “Zenos, are you alright with touch?”

For once, they could not rightly place the look in his eyes as he lingered on them. He often shifted between staring through someone to a too-intense focus, something which still startled Auri on occasion, yet this time it seemed his mind had turned in a way he had not needed it to for some time.

Zenos yae Galvus, Crown Prince of Garlemald, terror of Ala Mihgo… lost for words.

Shifting his weight, he turned slightly to face them, reaching out to take one of their hands and after a brief moment of consideration pulled it to press their palm to his chest, his eyes moving up to meet theirs with an unusual look yet the message was clear enough to discern: action where words could not suffice.

They waited for his small nod then let their gaze fall to where their hand had been placed, splaying their fingers and feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath their palm. The mage inhaled slowly, stepping closer and reaching with their free hand to rest on his other arm, their thumb moving in a small, soothing back and forth motion as they tested the waters.

He was tense.

Their attention lifted to him and offered a look of sincerity, “If you want me to stop, tell me… please-”

“Don’t.” his voice was sharp, though not with anger as they had worried, “...Don’t.”

Nodding slowly, the mage lingered then began their gentle traversal as the garlean eased his hold over the hand on his chest, slowly running their hand along his chest and down his other arm, eventually reaching his hands; calloused yet slender, the topography of his hands intrigued them- and not merely for the fact their own were dwarfed by his if they were to compare.

They focused on one hand- his right, noting the slight padding on the palm of his fingerless gloves, briefly remembering the tale he had regaled to them about the training he had experienced in his younger days, how he had cut down his instructor who had no qualms about his goal to kill the princeling, and only succeeding after embedding a shard of crystal into his palm to force a moment of aetheric manipulation- a feat otherwise unachievable to a born Garlean. Auri's expression was somber as they recalled, holding the scarred hand as best they could and pulling it close to their face, placing a soft kiss on his palm; the sound of him letting out a trembling breath gave them pause,

“I can stop-”

He shook his head, the look in his eyes unlike anything the mage had seen in him before.

They placed another kiss on his palm after a pause, pulling their head back finding themselves tracing the tendon lines on his wrist and along his forearm, moving closer as they returned their attention to lightly grazing his frame with their hands, testing the waters and watching for signs of discomfort,

“I take it you've never been touched like this…?” they inquired gently, hands pausing in their journey and settling on his upper arms, the look on his face speaking volumes more than his words,

“No… no I have not.” his voice was strangely quiet, not carrying the usual rolling, poetic tone he often spoke with.

Another nod from the mage- deciding against pressing for more answers- and they resumed. Their fingers delicately traced the lines of his shoulders, finding themselves standing on tiptoes to reach… a streak of bravery made them pull slightly, watching him lean down at their coaxing and allowing them to explore further; Auri offered a smile, one hand now reaching his jaw and resting there while the other moved further and brushed the strands of long blond out of his face and behind his ear.

His gaze fixated entirely on them, breath slow and deep as he leaned into their touch.

Their fingers slowly brushed through his hair, feeling the silklike strands as they combed and gingerly massaged his scalp with their claws, his breathing hitching at their gentle motions. Their other hand carefully mapped out his face, taking in every detail from the height of his cheekbone to the curve of his ear, eventually brushing their thumb along his cheek and startling them from their own trance upon feeling him reach up to grasp their hand before they could pull away, turning his head to return the gesture from earlier: lips pressing to their palm and lingering.

The mage held their breath as they watched, waiting to see what he would do next as their mind steadily turned. He sighed at last, quiet as he loosened his hold on their hand and moved his head down a touch, his mouth now grazed the tendon lines of their wrist, scarcely any pressure applied,

"Now, now, your highness," the au ra gently chided as they watched him, "Bite me or draw my blood otherwise and I'll be most cross with you."

A faint smile curled his lips along with a quietly amused chuckle, "Nay, such would be poor sport from me, my friend…"

The prince lingered, his smirk fading just as quickly as it had appeared, and even through his hooded gaze the mage could see his mind turning through the gentle touch upon his cheek,

"I cannot recall the last time I felt something such as this. All my life I have gone about my days the same as the last; the morrow was merely routine outside of the occasions when I needed to deign the company of citizenry or high society with my presence. Seldom did I desire or acknowledge the aid of another even before I tended to my own wounds from training or combat, I had the knowledge and oft utilized it…"

Auri remained focused on the garlean, listening as he seemed to… wander through his thoughts and gave voice to them. It was not uncommon for him to be quiet during their evenings together, something they had assumed came to be as he only truly spoke when needed, his words purposeful through the steady drawl and flowered phrasing… such an observation made his current state all the more unusual to them,

"Curious…" he muttered after a lengthy bout of silence, earning a puzzled look from Auri even as they remained quiet, watching his steady gaze lift slightly to stare at the wall on the far end of the aged building, "Forgive me, this feeling is rather strange. I find myself hesitating, for reasons I know naught as to why, and yet..."

The au ra's brows knit together further as they listened, his words hardly carrying the steadiness and certainty they had grown accustomed to in their short time together; listening instead to the quiet, near-aimless nature of his thoughts as they were given voice,

"And yet, I find myself unable to draw back from this feeling- this sensation, as though once I let go you may simply…" Zenos trailed off again, his eyes closing again and pressing their hand more firmly to his cheek, "The thought of no longer feeling your hand upon me should I let go… it aches within me- and yet I cannot place why…"

Auri's eyes widened as they felt the crown prince tense once more, almost… trembling? A sensation so faint they doubted it came from him, yet they reached with their other hand to cup his remaining cheek, their thumbs moving in steady, soothing motions as they noted his tensing and relaxing shoulders with each hastened breath,

"Steady… steady," They uttered, never wavering in their gestures while they attempted to soothe and granting a soft smile, "I'll not vanish should I let go, I promise… so long as you would have me, I may have you as well."

They had hardly noticed the way Zenos settled upon his knees before them until they felt his remaining arm slither around their middle to pull them close, holding the au ra a bit too tight against his frame- Auri let out a small huff at the gesture and it's attempted tenderness, adjusting their own arm to rest around his shoulders for some relief; feeling him take notice and easing his hold just a touch. From this new angle, the au ra uttered a faint sigh and tentatively rested their head atop his, their thoughts turning at how their companion had revealed how starved for touch he was… perhaps how deeply he had craved painless acts of connection such as this and yet never had the thought itself cross his mind- not that they could blame him, knowing now how he had simply survived in idleness and tedium in his twenty-six summers upon this star.

"Speak your mind, if you wish," Auri muttered, feeling his grasp on their hand ease at last as he turned and rested his head upon the juncture between their neck and shoulder, a faint- if not somber- smile crossed the mage's lips at the adjustment and sighed, "Or not… you may let your actions speak for you."

A grunt of acknowledgement was all the crown prince offered in return, his other arm joining the first in holding the au ra to him and slowly easing the stark tension within his body.

They knew naught how much time passed as they embraced, an instant or an eternity simply felt the same, before the garlean at last loosened his hold and looked up to meet the warrior of light's eyes. His expression was languid as they had grown accustomed to, though his gaze carried a glimmer of… yearning, perhaps? The observation remained as such within the au ra as they reached to gently comb their fingers through his hair once more, speaking at a near-whisper,

"We should depart soon… unfortunately, time is not our companion and the company we keep will surely come looking soon enough."

His eyes closed, sighing and leaning into their touch again before he loosened his hold and stood, watching Auri pull back their hands once more- resting them on his chest instead,

"Aye, and we must play our parts a little while longer." Zenos replied, his usual drawl slipping into place once more even as his tone did not carry the usual commanding air. They soon stepped away from the other to find their respective traveling attire, a more comfortable silence filling the building they had hidden themselves in before they made ready to part ways.

The blond finished fastening one last buckle on his traveling armor when the feeling of a smaller clawed hand on his arm drew his attention, looking over to the source and seeing the rather sheepish expression on Auri's face,

"Thank you for… for telling me." They said, watching the prince linger briefly before nodding once,

"You have shown me your own scars and told your tales, telling you of my own is a fair reward."

Another smile from the mage was given, feeling the steady pat on his gauntlet before watching them turn and begin their venture, giving him one last look over their shoulder,

" 'Til we meet again…?"

"As always."

#Cata Writes #zenos x wol #zenoswol #zenos yae galvus #ffxiv #otp: Aurinos

[matcha-bnuuy]

CHOOSE YOUR FIGHTER... (finally a character masterlist post!)

Holti Fyth: The Matcha Bnuuy himself, chaotic bastard energy but well meaning and has a good heart. Warrior of Light trying his best, loves his friends and fiancé. The first male viera to voluntarily leave the wood, he kept himself low-key using potions and glamours to appear as a miqo’te man, until ... through mishaps and losing his materials, he didn’t. But the Scions didn’t seem to mind! Being a trailblazer for viera men not just of his village, others soon followed suit, Holti being an inspirational figure becoming not only an adventurer, but a hero.

Khaitu Qestir: In another not too distant timeline, there are TWO WoLs (it’s a long story), and one of them happens to be this dear, confused silent soul. They’ll use their brainpower when they want to, but otherwise, they’re probably wandering off and putting something in their mouth they shouldn’t... Hailing from Reunion and the child of Iturgen Khan, they’re a (learning) master of magicks.

Totoko “Toto” Malaguld: Displaced from his Yangxian family at a young age, this little Raen found his way to the Steppe and a home among the Malaguld, raised as a Xaela, he’s spicier than he looks and hopes to be Khagan of the Steppe someday.

Makato Dazkar: A sweet househusband lizard who set out into the world in search of love; a wife to cherish and hold (preferably one who can break someone’s femur too...) while not so masterful on the battlefield, he’ll make you the best dinner you ever ate and is learning to heal to better keep those he cares for safe.

Atukai “Atu” Uyagir: Hailing from the Uyagir caves of the Azim Steppe, this once Gods-fearing lizard has found a new lease on life accompanying a miqo’te fugitive. What better way than getting over your fears than fighting them head on? Although he’s still learning to accept niceties from others.

Akio Torioi: Doman war refugee, this seemingly hulking brute has a heart of gold. While preferring to keep to himself, he seeks out odd jobs and those in need to lend his strength where he can. Unofficially adopted by a family of moon’qote who he loves in his own stoic, silent way.

Zuzuka “Zuzu” Taruka: Spoiled son of an Ul’dahn Monetarist, Zuzu’s had everything in his life brought to him on a silver platter, quite literally, but now falling out of favour with his father and sent away, he’s getting a rude awakening to what things are really like, including the shady business behind Ul’dah’s  glistening golden exterior.

Flosi Kisne: Lost as an infant kit and taken in by a kindly Othardian couple, Flosi grew up as a well-loved oddity in Yangxia. When the Garleans came his dear parents paid for him to start a life in Kugane, where he worked in tea and pleasure houses until he could earn enough Gil to leave the East to safer, less Garlean-ruled land. Sickly sweet when he needs, and knows how to use a knife too~

Gunnar Fyth: Raised in the same village as Holti, Gunnar is a difficult, quick tempered boy, with expectations upon himself as the Wood-Warder he never had a chance to become under his father’s harsh tutorage. Not the brightest crayon in the box, there are 2 rules with Gunnar, 1) don’t ask, and 2) the helmet never comes off. One of Holti’s 3 childhood friends who eventually tailed him out of the woods to find him.

Vani “Vanilla Cheesecake” Fyth: Holti’s nearest and dearest friend who he has known from kithood, Vani took up the City Name of “Vanilla Cheesecake” after his favourite dessert upon leaving the woods after his best friend. A learning forest-sage and sweetheart to boot, Vani is the ‘mom friend’ of the group keeping his friends safe and in good health, while also being stern with them when need be, especially Gunnar.

Doti’ra Tolitoki: Born small and sickly, Doti’ra, fifth son of Doti, was the favoured child and apple of her eye, despite being a male in a moon-tribe. He was only banished some recent months ago when his own sisters, having been jealous of him their entire lives defamed him, leaving the unskilled and unworldly Doti’ra to fend for himself when the matriarch expelled him from her doting care. Lover of poetry and finally learning to use his claws, this little purple stray has a lot to learn.

#Matcha-Bnuuy #FFXIV #Final Fantasy 14 #FF14 #my character #my characters #character bios #LONG POST #sorry about that but HEY IT'S FINALLY HERE #I've been meaning to do this for a long time! #au ra #viera #miqo'te #lalafell #if you see any of these guys around feel free to say hi! it's me! #Holti #Holti Fyth #Khaitu #Khaitu Qestir #Totoko Malaguld #Totoko #Makato Dazkar #Makato #Vani #Vanilla Cheesecake #Gunnar #Flosi #Doti #Doti'ra #Zuzu

[myrfing]

Regarding all your everything about today's WoL question xD

Yeah I get you ;w; like I do think it's fine if like ... That's how they write their WoL -- if their WoL perceives their relationship with the Scions to be not great. And often times I have to remind myself that how their WoL perceives it =/= how the player actually perceives it. But sometimes people do insist that the Scions don't really care about the WoL and that does make me a little sad fjdkskf. Especially after everything in ShB and EnW.

But. That's them and I have my own thoughts, so. Poyo ... Sometimes I wonder if FFXIV is as free as people say ... There wouldn't be so many interpretions of the WoL and their relationships with the Scions otherwise, but I'm a little rigid about the WoL + Scions relationships I see in the wild?

Also sorry for, dumping thoughts into your inbox. You might have noticed a bunch of new notifs as of late but I'm shy so. /Rolls away

OH. HI first sorry for being so gung ho about my opinions I do recognize some people put conflict between their wol and scions because their wol is just meant to have issues and complexities about anything from their goals, to heroism, whatever. Some of my favorite wols/writers in the fanbase have written their little guy to completely reject being the wol and the scions, to have run away and be very bitter and angry towards even the gentlest attempts to get them back, and I love what they wrote.

I do personally think though that the msq is a very linear and somewhat rigid story, and a lot of people just sort of…struggle with that. Maybe cus they like the antagonist characters more, maybe because they disagree with the scions politics and goals, maybe the story just doesnt work with what they want for their wol, maybe they just don’t plain like the scions as people and end up feeling like they’re being “forced” to do all this crazy shit “for their sake” when nothing they want aligns with the scions. like I have issues with the scions and always had since arr and to a point I suspend my disbelief but. A lot of people seem to think yeah none of this WAS worth it a majority of the game is boring ridiculous bs and I only liked amaurot/whatever. and they want this to be the reality for their wol without blame, for them to have a good reason to blame others that just…doesn’t really exist. So then all the quests and trials are just an unwanted burden, even though…this is just the leap of faith you give towards a video game that asks you to play it. like game mechanics suddenly are a personal affront, minfilia asking you to turn in a quest to her becomes an indication of her like, moral failings and inconsiderateness, alphinaud being gung ho about better eorzea is just a marker of how he’s a coldhearted despotic 16 year old dragging around your sad chained up angel wol strongest person ever btw with a leash. but instead being like oh yeah I want a canon divergence big time from the get go a weird number of people just preach their wildly poor faith readings about fairly mild and well-meaning characters as truth LMFAOOO. which like, sure, everyone go ham and have fun, but I see a lot of resulting complaints directed at the writers with weird amounts of vitriol. like oh the fucking scions are cruel ingrates towards garlyman1 and the writers wont let me yell at them for it in the new patch, they don’t know what they’re doing with their own themes. in the future i want the option to say/do [shit that would be absolutely wild for the character known as “Thee WoL” to suddenly say with no buildup and is entirely substantiated on their oc’s story]. like people legit turning on ishikawa WHOOO is not a perfect writer by any means but for just running with the basic premise that “the wol and the scions are friends and they want to do good by the world”. and this thing is the basic impetus that progresses you along the entire story and lets you experience its content. Some people have expressed such heavy disgust at this basic ass core thing that you had to play along with to play the game since you first spoke to the scions that I just…????. I guess it makes me think like do you actually LIKE the story or. did you go through 263836822 hours of it just hating the vast majority of it. which would be less weird if the game wasn’t so long and expensive and didnt require so much deliberate choice to keep playing.

and admittedly this is just me turning my nose up at shit out of my own tastebuds but some people will reach to make any character who in canon is like, just some guy living life, into bizarrely evil total fucking incompetent or manipulative assholes who are obsessed with making the wol’s life hell and whose entire existences revolve around making the player specifically the…biggest victim I guess. like jesus on the cross shit. every day wake up eat my cereal traumatize the wol who bears the weight of all the worldly sins because nobody thinks they are just #human and are content to let them suffer alone. and I personally find that uber masturbatory and weird in any writing lol. in the end I think a lot of what people write and how they write it is a communication of ideas and if that idea is “everyone sucks and is so mean to me the most sane and rational and human one of all time” and if you have to reduce the humanity of other characters to bolster yours to the point they have no resemblance to their original selves im going to be like your ideas fucking suck dude. also sorry this turned into another humungo rant it is cool to have you share your thoughts with me and i dunno if this is anything for making a distinction or finding the balance between “player freedom to write their own story” vs. actual misinterpetation. in the end i dont know what’s going on in people’s heads for sure

#i do think some people lack imagination so they just #run with some shit no matter hwat #because it’s just a commonly accepted angst intepretation in fandom #also in the end it is not that serious people are just finding their ways to have fun with it. #even if I’m annoyed by general fandom trends in the end these people do not write for me #and i dont for them so everyone clap

[theoreticalconstruct]

[FFXIV] Spark (SFW, Thancred/Y’shtola/WoL)

Ficlet written for PolyamShippingDay for @polyamships (if a bit belated.)  Thancred/Female Highlander Warrior of Light/Y’shtola. Missing scene, somewhere in the post-HW quests.

AO3 Link.

---

It was Thancred's hand on her shoulder that roused her from a fitful slumber.

Frankly, Quizzie was grateful to be awake, she thought as she quietly sat up, checking for her daggers out of habit. That was one thing that adventurers never told others about their lives: they came with a lot of really weird nightmares. Especially after some of the things she'd seen.

Thancred was looking off to the side; he glanced at her as she moved, and quietly pressed one finger to his lips. She nodded, turning to see if her other companion was still asleep, then blinked as she realized that Y'shtola was nowhere to be seen.

Hm. So that was why. How'd she managed to get clear without waking her, Quizzie would never know; she'd been told she could be very clingy in her sleep, she thought, smiling wryly.

At last Thancred seemed to finish his survey of the small room, looking back to her. Finding he already had her attention, he raised one hand, beckoning her to follow. Quizzie nodded, lifting her axe from its spot where she'd rested it against the wall on her way out. Daggers were all well and good, but she already had Thancred for that, and her main weapon of choice was so much more intimidating.

The two of them crept out of the ruins where they'd bedded down for the night. It was still impressive, this old colony, even after the land had reclaimed most of it. She could understand why the goblins and adventurers had decided to take the best parts of what was left for themselves. They'd availed themselves of their hospitality several times already, but this time they'd been caught out too late too quickly to make it back.

She wondered just how well they'd known this place. Y'shtola, for her part, walked through these streets as if they had been her home... which made sense, as she had once been Master Matoya's student here. Quizzie had to admit, she liked the old lady's spark; it made her wonder what having a grandmother like her would've been like...

After a while Thancred stopped in front of her, gesturing to some bushes. The message was obvious, and she quickly moved to crouch behind them, careful not to break any twigs. She heard him join her, hand on her waist and breath warm in her ear, a steady and reassuring presence after being apart all that time.

After a moment something moved in front of them, and she looked up to see Y'shtola standing by the wall, staring at the weathered stones. If she had heard them approach she made no sign, seeming lost in thought as she held her staff in front of her - no, Quizzie thought, that wasn’t the staf Tataru had commissioned for her. It was a cane, white and worn, that looked as if it had been carved from bone. Definitely not something a conjurer would carry, she mused, as Y’shtola started whispering something that she couldn’t quite make out - but she could feel the familiar power building in the air, tension before a storm, something she’d felt before -

The sudden flash of light came quickly, filling the room with pale violet light, and thunder boomed around them as a spark leaped from the tip of her cane to the wall. It struck in a shower of sparks, leaving a dark mark against the pale stones, though the sparks flickered out before they could light the damp vegetation nearby. 

Y’shtola stood back, staring at the mark; her shoulder heaved in a sigh. “A mere spark,” she said softly. “One that would not faze even the frailest of beasts.” She looked down at the bone cane, then shook her head before fastening it to her back again. “You might as well come out, now that I’m done embarrassing myself,” she called, more loudly. 

Well. No point in staying back now. She didn’t ask how Y’shtola had noticed them; the woman had become near-impossible to hide from, ever since the Seedseers had pulled her from the Lifestream. “Embarrassin’ yourself, hells,” Quizzie said as she stood up, “you’ve already done more than I’ve ever managed.” 

She turned to face them both, her face almost impossible to read. Quizzie couldn’t get over how strange her eyes looked now, pale and empty. She’d seen others like that - men and women who’d had their eyes scoured by salt and sand, who’d lost the ability to see. Not that Y’shtola seemed to have any difficulty - if anything her vision was even sharper than before. “I suppose you’ll say my standards for myself are far too high,” she says. “You would not be the first.” 

“No,” Thancred agreed, his voice gentler than she remembered. “She wouldn’t. We’ve both heard the same thing before, have we not? Multiple times.” 

“And we never listened.” She gave him a small smile. “We always had that in common.” 

“You two,” Quizzie said quietly, looking between the two of them. “Couple o’ bloody perfectionists. I’ll find some way t’ get you both to relax someday.” 

Y’shtola was the one to laugh, approaching them both, the cane secured on her back. “You may not believe it, but you already have. Master Matoya would tell you of a time I spent all night trying to master a new discipline, to her frustration. I barely remember it, but apparently I was quite useless that morning.” 

“Oh, Twelve, that story.” Thancred managed a smile. “I think you told me that tale, once. She was very cross after you allowed some extra ingredient to drop into a potion you were brewing.” 

“No great harm was done... but I had a very strange complexion for a few days after.” She shook her head. “I’m sure she’ll tell you the story, if you’re willing to assist her for a day or so.” 

“An’ if I do more than a day, d’ you think I’d get any more interestin’ stories?” Quizzie teased, taking her arm. 

“I very much doubt it,” Y’shtola answered quickly - but there was a slight hitch in her voice that Quizzie noted with a smile. “But perhaps we should get back before we’re noticed by a passing Morbol. Pity the researchers aren’t still here to keep them in check.” 

Well, that was true. They’d only just recovered from the last attack. “Maybe I can convince a friend o’ mine to lend us a flamethrower when we get back to Ishgard. Would make our lives easier next time we’re out ‘ere.” 

Thancred chuckled slightly as they walked, and Quizzie reached out to grip his hand tightly for a moment, though they could not afford to stay like that for long. Maybe they’d help the people of Idyllshire rebuild this place, someday.

#Final Fantasy XIV #polyamshippingday #Thancred x WoL x Y'shtola #Poly Scions #OC: Quizzie Slagheart

[edenfelled]

This headcanon was originally posted on @abyssine ! I've just tidied up and added some sections.

forword: this is going to be my big compendium for all the stuff to do with my wol ! consider it a constant wip; i will make edits to it constantly, it will probably be huge; i will not apologise for my hyperfixations.

as always, a disclaimer: any mention(s) of canon characters can be changed if the people playing them are not interested. i do not expect my portrayal to trump personal comfort. some aspects of the game have more written about them than others; this mostly comes down to when i started writing on tumblr (shb).

01.  to  touch  her  is  to  become  a  child.  to  love  her  is  to  be  buried.  /  AMAUROT.

born kore, the maiden. she was best known for her mischievous nature and wanderers spirit — to the point many wondered if her seat of azem was more a ploy to keep her contained. in truth, she was bestowed the place due to the vast love she had for the world and its people. she mentored under venat, worked alongside members of the convocation, and was generally well liked — if little too passionate ( looking at you, grape incident ! ).

she did not know what was to come when it came to the final days, only that those on the outer provinces were slowly being drained of aether that turned its people into mindless beasts. when she returned to amaurot, she learned of the convocations plan to summon zodiark and defected. this coupled with her similar rejection of hydaelyn's followers earned her the monkier 'persephone' — more accurately dread persephone; queen of the dead, usher of winter. she accepted this title along with her fate to sunder and die. in the end, she was killed by a falling meteorite during the star's final hours after a cryptic conversation with venat.

footnotes:

i subscribe to the idea that the ancients were open in their relationships, so kore doesn't have a 'main' ship, and could be shipped with multiple people at the same time. i'm down to explore any dynamic with ancient muses!

kore helped with the creation of beast tribes such as moogles / fae / sylphs.

when people compare kor to kore, especially in appearance, she tends to believe they are describing her sister. however, the one striking difference from lily is that both kor and her ancient both have amber-coloured eyes.

generally speaking, ancients (before the sundering) will call kore by her birth name. ascians will call her persephone.

02.  call  me  when  they  bury  bodies  underwater,  it’s  blue  light  over  murder  for  me.  /  1.0 | ARR.

eldest child of fleet-captain dimitri swan, kor has always been defined by her binary gender. born a woman to a man who valued masculinity above all else — the stockiness of his highlander genes, not the midlander ones she inherited — her status as the eldest and most legitimate heir thrust on her responsibilities she had no choice to want and abuse she did not deserve. many of her earliest memories were of her father's fist, whether by her own acts or defending her sister from his ire, and she quickly learned that no amount of appeasement, placation or resistance would ever deviate his feelings. he hated her because he believed she had no value.

"she's a blight," he hissed. "a cunt." if you relayed it back to koret, she'd give you a twisted little smile and a roll of her shoulders. "he makes sure i never forget."

without a son to inherit his legacy, dimitri was reluctantly forced to take kor on as his protégé and she, by extension, was forced into his service. though she inherited her father's ship the wolfsbane, it was his expectation she would fail in her charge due to her inexperience in leadership and the complexity ( and oftentimes the illegality ) of his tasks. however, assisted by her first mate robince and a rag-tag crew her father believed were too useless to sail, they managed to successfully chart their first course and all those succeeding it. much of 1.0, as a result, was kor carving out her status as captain.

in those first few years of service, dimitri's attention shifted from his eldest daughter to his youngest. with a kind heart and an intense need to please, kor returned from her ventures to find her sister betrothed to one of dimitri's associates in his bid for more power and wealth. though kor did her best to plead with lily to leave with her, it was her sister's misguided belief that her marriage would redeem herself in the eyes of their father and gain her absolution and respect.

this belief carried her through her marriage, her new husband's abuse and her eventual murder — the latter of which kor was given unwilling clairvoyance. the echo, most people called it ( though to kor a personal curse ); no amount of sailing gave her enough time to save her sister. when she arrived back in limsa lominsa, it was all she could do to identify the body three-days bloated by the sea and enact vengeance on her killer. though she called it justice, it never brought her peace.

in her grief, she left her ship under robince's care after y'shtola's recognition of her echo. though she joined the scions willingly, she kept her distance for much of the early game as she tried to unravel the meaning behind her new 'powers'.

footnotes:

kor's story does not deviate too heavily from the normal wol's aside from a few things.

kor's first class was machinist ! or, more accurately, musketeer. limsa lore backs up their existence and i will die on the hill. she had a rapier, she had a gun and she had no time for your shit.

minfilia was probably the first person kor grew close to, though she'd argue it was begrudging. being one of the few people also possessing the echo, she would have a found a kindred spirit in how simultaneously powerful and powerless the echo can make you feel. it was her tender leadership that really inspired kor to join and her death later in the game took a massive toll.

kor didn't come out of her shell until well into post-arr. in truth, she was hoping to monopolise the scions for all their information about the echo and leave, only to realise she had come to care for them by the end of the game.

the slyphs pretending to be the scions was the funniest shit for her. naturally, as a shard of azem, she could easily identify who the real one was.

kor volunteered her father's ship to be the one used during the trial with leviathan. this was twofold: one, to spite dimitri. two, she gained assurance from merlwyb that all damages would be compensated... so she chose to wreck it. the restorations were fantastic!

haurchefant wins the award for person who became her friend the fastest. she found his earnest appreciation endearing and he had a knack for drawing rare bouts of sincerity from her.

likewise, she bonded quite closely to g'raha, though his choice to lock himself in the tower really messed her up. he was the first person she had a recognisable 'crush' on. so his death made her withdraw quite keenly into herself.

03. caught  in  the  river  turning  blue,  hold  your  breath  as  it  covers  you.

heavensward is my weakest expansion when it comes to kor lore, so sorry everyONE. the rest of this post will be a lot of footnotes / titbits of information for each expansion. eventually, when i have time, i'll replay each and give greater notes for their parts.

dimitri began to feed coin into the crystal braves at the end of arr, particularly upon learning of their plan to implicate kor in the assassination of the sultana. this was not because he had any great interest in the wider implications towards eorzea, he just wanted to take her out. he was of a mind that, where she not outright lying about everything she had done, she now possessed a keen threat to him and his assets. he wanted her reputation ruined, allies gone, crops salted, etc. being ala mhigan himself, he was able to plead his case and promise his assets were she removed.

kor had suspicions of his involvement but had no way to prove it. proof came when she, alphinaud and yugiri went to rescue raubahn and dimitri appeared alongside ilberd and the others. though he challenged kor to a limsan 'duel', her echo gave her clarity to the fact her father would not fight fair. she shot him dead before he got a chance. some in limsa would consider this dishonourable.

the rest of the expansion is a fairly one for one representation of how i think her story would go. please come back to this section later.

04.  show  me  those  pretty  white  jaws.  show  me  where  the  delicate  stops.

hello stormblood. i love you, even if the wider community does not.

the freeing of ala mhigo was an exceptionally weird time for kor, and it's not something she's keen to talk about. her mother was limsan born but dimitri was not. his family ( and hers by extension ) are ala mhigan, but he left just before the garlean occupation and shunned any members of his family that tried to escape through him. she doesn't feel like she can claim to be disapora, not in the same way her cousins can, and she feels very disconnected from her people due to her fathers rejection/manipulation of their plight. this lead her to default to other members of the resistance ( m'naago, conrad, meffrid etc. ) for guidance.

if anything, she felt more at home as a foreigner in the east than a daughter of ala mhigo.

however, cue members of her crew coming to aid in parts of the story ! a lot of them were refugees that dimitri tried to exploit. rob would often write and let her know which members had settled throughout yanxia and the peaks so she could go visit.

zenos. ah yes. he's really the first person who 'matched' kor with the echo — like he did with any wol. stormblood was around the time that kor was grappling and coming to terms with her suicidal ideation and her shifting opinion of it, so to have someone who could kill her was a terrifying thought.

zenos took kor's eye. of all the headcanons i have, this is the one i'm not going to budge on. if this is a dealbreaker for zenos roleplayers, i totally understand ! in the royal menagerie, as part of the shinryu fight, kor was critically injured. i like to think of it as the literal 'eye for an eye, a pound of flesh'. she took his life, he took something from her.

this brought into prominence kor's reliance on the echo and how weak hydaelyn's power had become over time. given she never thought highly of hydaelyn or the echo due to how she received it, it had not occurred to her just how accustomed she had become to it. in her mind, she had let it become a crutch.

also, the silence of hydaelyn's power coupled with her friends just dropping dead ? obviously they weren't dead dead but, when you have nightmares of your deceased sister suspended on a table manifesting in real life... it fucks you up ! she was not okay ! how do you protect your loved ones from something you cannot perceive ?

kor picked up a gunblade in this time. she saw it on the back of a dead garlean, picked it up, examined it, shot it and went 'o FUCK yea'

05.  i  know  for  the  last  time  you  will  not  be  mine.  so  give  me  the  night.

SHADOWBRINGERS, I LOVE YOU. my favourite expansion, love of my life.

kor knew immediately that the exarch was raha. she chose all the text options that called him out on it. that being said, she didn't push once he was like 'haha, that's so weird!!'. she saw it less as him having a master plan and more he had chosen to reject her as a friend and confidant in the time he'd spent on the first. baby has some self-confidence issues to work on.

she got into a lot of heated arguments with thancred over mini!filia. ryne becomes something of a sister to her throughout the story and she cares deeply for her. in a lot of ways, her protection of her and the other kids is her own atonement for being unable to save her sister.

her sin-easter is called forgiven insolence! i have art of it.

the horror of the light fucked kor up. it's the dichotomy of feeling like you're so corrupt you're the only one who can absorb the light, but also feeling like it's not expunging anything worthwhile.

this also lead her distancing herself from much of the scions. she knew something was up between urianger, y'shtola and the others. she has never appreciated people obfuscating and ( in her mind ) lying to her.

in rare moments ( see: the dying gasp, sos ) she is... uncannily kind to emet / elidibus. this is kore's influence. emet's is more in the theme of 'kill your abusers' due to what he did to kore/kor, whereas elidibus was more the comfort of a wayward soul. you can choose to be kind, even when people hurt you.

06. what  is  your  soul  made  of  ?  beauty.  and  what  is  beauty ?  terror.

hello the pain that is endwalker. i only have a few notes.

the wolfsbane took the scions to old sharlayan ! this was really nice for kor. she got to catch up with rob and see how his crew was going. though she technically holds all of her father's assets in his death, she passed them onto her first mate to manage in return for their assistance. he probably carried on about transporting the esteemed scions of the seventh dawn and their warrior of the light until she threatened to kill him. in truth, he just let her have the wheel for old times' sake.

in elpis, upon meeting venat and regaling her the fate of the world, kor made her promise not to give her the echo until her sister died. this was the point kor realised she would not have started her hero's journey until her sister passed, turning the event of her death full circle. it's also the moment she realises all her hatred towards hydaelyn was misguided — venat had the strength to not only sunder the world but endure the hatred of the one person she knew could save it. it's very poignant for her.

she sees lily in the aitiascope. this was the final event that made her really accept she was not at fault for her death and lily didn't hate her for it. their fates were inevitabilities until that moment; they were simply products of fate.

kor openly cries for hydaelyn and begs her forgiveness. it comes from both her and kore, though she doesn't realise it.

meteion is both kor's daughter and sister. i will not accept constructive criticism. as someone who once saw despair in everything, i think kor being able to impart the hope she learned was profound for them both.

she also can't really fault hermes. bitches be depressed. this doesn't mean she condones his actions, she just... gets it. deep down she knows, were she presented with the facts as he was, she very well could have done the same thing.

don't talk to her about ultima thule. time and time again she would have died for her friends if it helped them advance their plight. she never wanted it to be the other way around.

vrtra's plight to save his sister was extremely important to her.

for now, that's it! if you got this far, thanks for reading. this doc will be expanded as i see fit. anything new will be noted at the top.

#｡･ﾟﾟ･ — 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞 : koret #｡･ﾟﾟ･ — 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧 : koret #holy shit i forgot how long this was #AAAA #but it's done (for now)

[bisquicklite]

Still thinking about that reblog about Gridania and I'm having Thoughts about my Keeper wol and the delightful AU where I sent her to prison.

Why'd she go to prison? She cut off a man's cock.

Why'd she cut off his cock? Because he was a woodwailer and an arsehole and he tried to attack her sister.

(Not to mention leading the local authorities on a manhunt for a few weeks after the incident, causing trouble and chaos in her wake. But it was long enough for her remaining family to leave the Black Shroud and resettled elsewhere, allowing them to escape any reprisals.

She's arrested, but the whole thing is a mess because because one of the moons was actively falling. A mess which leads to her being, quite literally, thrown in a hole and forgotten about for five years.)

"You cut off one man's cock, and suddenly that's what you're known for." - Osha Qhantari, Warrior of Light, Champion of Eorzea

She spends ARR out on some kind of special probation. Legally she is not allowed to used conjury as a rule of said probation (she was formerly practicing a sort of white magic that had been passed down through her family). She stumbles into a position with the Scions. At this point she is less an adventurer than a criminal in an experimental rehabilitation scheme. Her killing Primals isn't heroics, its glorified community service.

Then after she has successfully stopped the Garlean invasion, destroyed the Ultima Weapon, and everyone agrees the day is saved; Osha is arrested again. Again she is imprisoned, this time in Thanalan. The reasons given vary but boil down to the powers that be claiming that she is far too dangerous to be left free to roam, especially as her probation officer is thoroughly out of commission due to injuries.

Osha resigns herself to imprisonment; without a fight or struggle or wild goose chase or further injuries to Allied forces.

"Right now, they're waiting with bated breath for me to turn around and bare my teeth. They're watching for the moment that I snap and become the feral, dangerous mad woman Gridania has painted me as. So, yes, I am going to sit in my prison cell and I am going to behave. I will play the part of tamed guard dog so that, maybe, one day they'll let me out for longer than it takes to kill their problems. The moment I show them otherwise will just confirm their suspicions and serve as reason for me to never see the light of day again... Besides, I hardly have the right to complain. The accommodations are far better this time. I have a window." -Osha Qhantari

#A Rare Sociable Mood Appears! #I will be taking zero feedback because criticism gives me anxiety tummy thank you #Osha Compliant Lore Dump #Jailbird AU #ffxiv shenanigans #Her Echo activated shortly before the Calamity #Osha regards it as a curse #Same thing that drove her great grandmother and mother mad #She was really hoping it skipped a generation #this is much longer than I expected

[marionmaverick]

Baldur's Gate 3 universe:

Eryn, L'Calem, and Marion all exist in the same universe. Calem has got some reworking to make him his own character and be more serious. (and uh, probably has a lot of tws so warning for that.)

Eryn and Calem share the title Warrior of Light, with Calem's developing more into Weapon of Light/Warrior of Darkness.

Calem actually does most of the work/ epic dark events.

Eryn and Calem split most of the lead in the events of A Real Reborn equally, Marion is a wanna be ironworks engineer who helps them out and joins the Scions that way. Is a dps in the dungeons specializing as a mechanist even before Heavensward.

Heavensward, Calem has been captured alongside Raubhan. Most of the scions don't know this and assume he escaped and will turn up eventually. He isn't brought to be executed in Hatali, instead left in the dungeon. Raubhan tells the scions he was there, Alphinaud volunteers to see if he can find if Calem is still there while Eryn and Marion help Estinien with the Aery. Calem's already escaped on realizing no one might be coming, and meets with everyone shortly after the Vault.

Calem becomes closer to Raubhan from this incident, but his relationship with Eryn is strained.

In Stormblood, Calem gets wrapped up dealing with Zenos. Eryn takes the lead in politics, while Calem takes the lead on the front.

When the call start happenings post freeing Ala Mihgo, Calem convinces Eryn to stay since he's recently gotten with Aymeric, while he goes to the first. He is G'raha's second choice, but he acknowledges Calem is known as the better fighter. (Calem is the azem here, so it will end up being he's the only one of the three that could have managed the wardens.)

In Endwalker, Eryn takes the lead some again, especially in Garlemald where Calem isn't in a rush to help. Though he still gets grabbed by Fendanial. He eventually goes to Elpis, and is the one that keeps his form while Eryn disappears alongside Thancred.

Calem ends up in Faerun about two weeks after his final battle with Zenos, and that combined with being a new and strange place without all his power puts him in a rather more vulnerable mental state then he usually is.

While Marion becomes a secondary scion and only helps in dungeons, he remains fairly unchanged from his self as a ironworks engineer in his non Wol verse.

Eryn is a worse person here, mostly because of he and L'Calem's relationship. He's not a bad dude, but Calem knows how to push his buttons.

The combined verse is the only one where Calem becomes the Warrior of Light. Any other's he is the side kick to the real one or a regular echo scion like Arenvald.

Calem's backstory is somewhat different here, and will be written in more detail later. It is actually changed mostly to reflect the actual lore in game and make him more a character than just an Ardyn AU verse, so they will be permanent changes.

#ffxiv spoilers #endwalker spoilers #long post #bg3 verse #will also write up new permanent verses as I prepare to change this to a multi #ooc #headcanons #timeline

[ungrateful-cyborg]

6, 20, & 22 for the asks! Any character you like :3

Their vices (physical or emotional) - Astrid

Sugar. Chocolate especially but really, just sugar in general. And good books. She might consider selling someone out for the right book (and then feel terribly guilty about having considered it in the intimacy of her own thoughts but you know. Books.)

Astrid is a bit too inhibited for anything more spicy than that I'm afraid. But then at the same time she found her place in the group she's in currently by cooking pastries so... yay sugar!

What-ifs/Alternate Timelines - Inge

1. She was meant to be my WoL rather than an RP character but I loved her backstory so much that I ended up wanting to write her more often than I would have otherwise. So that AU still exists somewhere in my head, albeit it has faded away since I’ve got Aïcha.

Basically the main difference is that Inge’s backstory is exactly the same as it would have been if she had become “the” WoL, except she never met Papalymo and Yda in the Shroud so the job of saving the world went to someone else so to speak.

As the WoL, she would have still been married to her wife, but also in a relationship with Raubahn (and Y’shtola because it’s hard to imagine an AU where they’ve met more than once without ending up together later on).

2. Goddess AU, based on that meme from 2017. Honestly I haven’t developed it a lot but you can still find posts in her tags about it, I think. The more interesting thing about this AU imo is what it says about her in her canon-verse.

3. In Aïcha verse, as I’ve dubbed the version of the game story in which Aïcha’s the WoL, Inge is a Scion. They’ve met when Mother Miounne put them in touch with each other to go inside Tam-Tara and stayed friends after that. Inge wasn’t really up to leave the Twelveswood at first since she had work to do there but Aïcha’s insisted, and frankly Inge was just too happy to find someone that could keep up with her to resist for long. They’ve done most of the fights together, except for the events during 5.0 (Inge wasn’t called on the First) and I’m not entirely decided about the end of 6.0.

In this verse, she’s still married to her wife and she’s with Y’shtola.

People who’ve influenced them greatly - The Advocate

His mentor and father figure, who took him in after the death of his parents and taught him his trade (before watching him join the Temple Knights with a heavy heart and the constant fear of his death). He’s still his employer to this day and one of the rare few who have always known who was hidden beneath the helm of “The Advocate”.

Another one would be Ser Ompagne, who taught him the way of the Dark Knights. Had he not met him, I don’t think he would have managed to remain in control of himself for as long as he has. Ser Ompagne taught him how to reign in his anger and use it for the protection of others.

Thanks for the ask, @lookbluesoup!

#The More You Know #answered; Astrid #answered; Inge #answered; The Advocate

[destiny-islanders]

The Ribbon™ origin story 

#ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #warrior of light #miqo'te #z'ahra #destiny doodles #destiny comics #this is super self-indulgent but i've wanted to draw this for long time and finally get around to doodling z'ahra with his mama rosie #he is a total mama's boy hahaha #like even as an adult he goes home and is just completely pampered haha #especially after he becomes known as the wol #which stresses rosie out to NO END #that's her baby out there fighting in wars GOING TO OTHER WORLDS and getting hurt a lot #she doesn't let him lift a finger when he visits her in ul'dah #not even to set the table or pour himself a glass of water she won't hear of it

[crystalbahamut]

ever onwards

FFXIV Write Day 12 – Make-up for Day 07 Speculate

Summary: G’raha Tia likes to gather facts first, but sometimes he still is surprised by the outcome.

Author’s note: I try to write ambiguous WoL but I always forget to take height into account. Deepest apologies to my lala friends; everyone else is more easily fudged. Also please forgive any mistakes; I wrote the whole thing in third person and found I just…really didn’t like it. I know second person isn’t for everyone, especially when used while shadowing another character’s perspective, but I just liked it better. And this is as edited as it is going to get.

Warnings: G’raha Tia/WoL, Shadowbringers spoilers, Crystal Tower questline, mostly unspecified/ambiguous WoL, romantic sap, fluff, 2nd person

Words: 2,692

 ---

G’raha Tia knew this expedition to explore the Crystal Tower would be the opportunity of a lifetime, but he had no way to know just how much it would change his life. The ruins, the relics, even the enemies left to guard the tower do more to serve his research than any tome he has ever found. It’s fantastic and more than he had ever dreamed it would be.

And part of what makes it all so much more is the presence of the Warrior of Light. It is thanks to you he can even access the tower, but more than that you are one of the few friends he has been able to make in his life. And…well, at first G’raha couldn’t help but start flirting. You are so much more wonderful and human than any story has ever made you out to be, and he can’t imagine anyone spending time in your presence and not becoming irrevocably in love with you. He had resolved to stop immediately should you make your discomfort known, but then…

Then you had started flirting back. And now G’raha doesn’t know what to do. Now that he has thought about it (a bit obsessively, perhaps,) he cannot help but marvel at his own foolish bravery to even try, and he wonders how in the world the Warrior of Light does not yet have a suitor. You have nearly all of Eorzea singing your praises, have even wrested the respect of your enemies, and hobnob with some of the most prestigious personages in the world. So how can it be you will not only laugh at G’raha’s jokes, but sometimes smile so abashedly when he himself praises you?

It is entirely possible you have no one special in your life– and given your favorable response to G’raha’s affections, it is not outside the realm of possibility that you might be interested in him as he is in you. While it may seem too good to be true, G’raha won’t relinquish such an opportunity if there is one…and the wondering thereof is starting to affect his work. If he is ever going to focus on anything other than your love life ever again, he must needs find out for certain.

So he shall end his speculation by collecting data. And today is perfect– everyone on site has the day off and you have told him you intend to spend the day not doing any work. ‘Tis a veritable miracle if he ever heard of one– even Cid had looked shocked. And so when you set off…G’raha sets off after you.

G’raha is not a bad hunter, and so he puts that expertise to use as he follows you around. You hadn't noticed him in the Shroud that first time and his tracking skills remain a point of pride now as he follows you to and around Gridania. You do some shopping– and he can’t help but stifle laughter as you get roped into helping out a stressed merchant, a distressed mother, and a pained courier, in that order.

But you do take the time to buy some things– some supplies for crafting you had mentioned wanting, a snack that makes G’raha’s stomach grumble in jealousy– and then you just walk slowly and take in the city, trading hellos with some few that feel comfortable enough to greet you. But through it all you remain alone, and when you pause to sit on a bench G’raha would say you actually look a bit…lonely.

‘Tis food for thought, for certain. Do you have a paramour who simply couldn’t spare the time today? But you are attuned to nearly every aetheryte in the realm; surely if you wanted to spend time with a beloved it would be no hard feat to manage? In fact, surely anyone lucky enough to have you would travel the world to be with you wherever you want them?

You dust yourself off and leave out of the east gate into the Shroud proper, and G’raha follows from a safe distance. You walk leisurely and G’raha can admit to himself the forest is nice, with the faint sounds of birds and a gentle breeze blowing leaves to and fro. He wonders what it would be like, to walk at your side…perhaps hand in hand…perhaps with his tail curling up your forearm…

There are a couple of times you seem to know you’re being followed and you turn to glance in his direction, but even while daydreaming utter nonsense G’raha is ready for such an event and makes certain you see naught but nature itself. Whether or not you feel a presence, you don’t seem terribly bothered, and he follows you all the way down to the South Shroud.

You cleave a little close to Toto-Rak for comfort, but it is a slight shortcut and nothing comes out to bother you before you’re back on the path to Quarrymill. You stop to talk to someone in the small hamlet and G’raha errs on the side of staying out of the way, so he cannot hear what is said, but he can clearly see when you leave out the other gate, which only leads to…

Urth’s Gift. So much for not working today. G’raha cannot help the way his tail twitches in annoyance as he follows behind you. You’re supposed to be resting and Urth’s Gift is dangerous. Yes, you are clearly capable and he has seen you in action in that very area before, but he can’t help but worry at how relaxed you seem about the whole business. Thankfully he had the foresight to bring his bow, and he follows a little more closely, until he gets the benefits of trees and rock faces to clamber and climb for better sight lines.

He doesn’t realize his mistake until you reach the edge of the water, stop, and fold your arms across your chest.

“Don’t worry; I’m not going to make you race me to Ixali territory,” you say with a raised voice and tilt your head to glance back in his direction. “I just fought Garuda again and I’m not keen to incite another summoning so soon.”

He drops down from his branch and assumes his face must be as red as his hair. “How long have you known?”

“I caught a glimpse of you in Gridania and couldn’t help myself,” you say and walk up to him with a friendly smile. “You know, if you wanted to come with me you could have just accepted the offer when I made it.”

“I ah…didn’t want to impose,” he says weakly and puts his bow on his back again. He would be content to run back to Mor Dhona with his tail between his legs right now, but you reach out and grab his hand and he has not the strength to deny your touch. Sweet Azeyma, how deep is he in already?

“If I invite you it’s not imposing,” you say. “I like your company G’raha.”

He looks at you. “Truly?” It comes out so desperate he coughs into his hand and tries to cover it up. “I simply thought– perhaps your time would be better spent with someone you like more than any other.”

“And who do you think that might that be?” you ask him.

“I…don’t know,” he says. Gods; how rude would it be to rip back his hand and run away? And yet this is too much like the tepid fantasies he had just indulged in. Granted the wild hogs and darker shade aren’t quite as lightly atmospheric as just outside the city, but he is still holding your hand in the forest. It must count. “I simply assumed you…must have someone.”

You step forward and you are so close G’raha’s very breath stutters. “No one has ever said anything to me,” you say and you lick your lips and now he’s staring at your lips by the Twelve why. “But I do have someone I like more than any other. And I suspect he likes me too, though I cannot be certain.”

G’raha’s heart sinks. “Oh,” he says and bites back a sigh. “Well if- if it makes you feel any better, there is no one that could receive your affections and not return them. And if this person does not then they are a fool.”

He cannot help how emphatic he becomes, but the idea that you could fall for someone and that person would squander such a precious–

You put your hands on either side of his face and lean in to kiss him. He can do naught but stare, wide-eyed for several seconds, though thankfully the kiss is chaste enough that his delayed clumsy movements can count for a returned gesture before you pull back, an enigmatic smile upon your lips before you ask him, “Are you a fool, G’raha Tia?”

He puts his hands over yours and, again, it takes his brain several long seconds to comprehend what just happened. “I…” He licks his lips. He wants to taste you, feel you, in ways he could have only imagined before. A world, a future is opening up before him, and he wants to see where it leads. “I may be a fool, but not such a deplorable one.”

You roll your eyes but there’s a faint embarrassed smile trying to hide in your face. “It’s not deplorable to not want me, G’raha.”

“We must agree to disagree.” Something snaps and he whips his head around, but there is nothing to be seen, no hogs in the wind, and he relaxes with a sigh. He winks at you. “I must say though, your choice of locale for such a stirring confession is a bit…odd.”

You chuckle and put your hands on his shoulders. “We first met here, so technically it’s where we first started our working relationship,” you say. “I thought it would be nice symmetry if we started our new relationship here too.”

He finds the suggestion…strangely appealing. Perhaps he is odd too, then. To be as odd as his Warrior of Light– well, there are much worst things in the world to be. He puts his hands on your sides and walks forward, guiding you along, until your back meets a rocky wall and he pushes in for a deeper kiss to sate his newfound hunger. Or perhaps it is a thirst he knows he will never quench. It matters not– you are more precious than water in an oasis, and he intends to savor every drop.

---

Decades later and a world away…

G’raha doesn’t know what he’s in for with your invitation to meet him out by the main gate, but he goes with a sense of curiosity and naught else. The night is cool, with a light breeze that blows pleasantly against his face as he walks. He nods in response to those that greet him as he passes by, but, curiously, there is no one present when he arrives outside the Crystarium– no one but you, and you walk up to him with a smile that reaches his heart. It’s embarrassing how quickly you can reduce him to an adolescent miqo’te with his first crush.

He clears his throat and tries to focus on something else. “Where is the guard?”

“Shift change.” You pull him close by his robes. “We have one minute and thirty-seven seconds at most.”

“To do what?” G’raha asks, laughing.

You answer him with a kiss. A deep kiss, dizzying, more than welcome, and G’raha returns it with all the hunger he has felt for far too long, tasting, touching, feeling you in a way that is so intensely personal and warm and wonderful and familiar in a way that makes him realize how much he has ached without your touch. It is, alas, too short, but you both pant in the wake of it.

“Oh…” G’raha gently touches your cheek and his soul sings as you lean into his hand. He licks his lips. He wants more, but the way you shift your eyes towards the gate makes him conscientious of the privacy you’ll soon lack. “I wasn’t sure if…”

“I’m sorry it took so long to arrange,” you say and take his hand to start leading him up the path back to the city. He will follow you wherever, if only you keep your hand in his to guide him. “I knew you probably didn’t want to do that in front of the guards, so I had to watch them to see when we would have a chance.”

But why do it out in the open at all? Why that road? G’raha doesn’t want to ask a question he should perhaps already know the answer to, but curiosity burns at him until he stops and grips your hand to keep you from slipping away. You turn back to look at him and he clears his throat nervously. “Pray forgive me but…why that particular spot?”

Thankfully you don’t seem offended by his question. Instead you grow a wide smile– nay, a full grin. “Do you remember…it’s been a long time, but do you remember the first time we ever kissed?”

“In the Shroud?” he asks. As though he could have ever forgotten; it was only ninety percent of the daydreams he’d had to soothe his mind and soul when the weight of his duty had nearly gotten to be too much. How you tasted, how you felt, how he had felt towards you– it had never failed to stir his heart and renew his commitment to his course to save you at any cost.

“You had followed me around all morning so I led you back to the Shroud, back to where we first met.” You step closer to him and his arms slide around you in automatic response. “At the time I wasn’t completely sure if you liked me like that, but I took a chance and it seemed appropriate to have our first kiss where we first met.”

Slowly, G’raha starts to understand. “Where we first…met. I see.” He cannot help his smile even though it feels so wide as to be ridiculous, and he pulls his hood over his eyes to try and hide how red his face must be for how warm it feels. But he covers the act with, “Perhaps this would have been more appropriate then?”

You laugh and G’raha thinks it shouldn’t be possible to be this happy, after so many decades of pain and fear and loss and longing, but he surges forward to kiss you again and you return the act in full.

“Mm, well,” you drawl sarcastically and gently run your thumb over his bottom lip. “I admit I did spend many a night wondering why on earth I couldn’t stop fantasizing about the Crystal Exarch’s mouth.”

“Oh?” His lips curl of their own accord as he thinks about it– because you would have a crisis about wanting to kiss a man you thought you didn’t know. The idea of you lusting after him though serves to boost his confidence and he pulls you to his body suddenly, tightly. “And what about G’raha Tia’s mouth?”

Your eyes soften. “Ridiculous man,” you say and kiss him again. “You still are, have always been, my G’raha, even when I didn’t know it. But I do now, and if you’ll have me I promise I love you just as much as I did then.”

“I’m not the same as I was,” G’raha says but leans in to nuzzle you.

“Neither am I. So…” You gesture at the gate. “Here’s to new beginnings?”

G’raha smiles. Perhaps he does not deserve to be so happy when his plans went so awry and only worked out due to your sheer stubbornness, but he has never thought himself so austere as to deny himself what he wants when it seems to want him just as much. So he leans in, takes your lips in his, and kisses you tenderly, savoring every second he can, before he pulls back just slightly and whispers, “To new beginnings.”

#ffxivwrite2021 #ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite prompt 7: speculate #ffxiv fanfic #warrior of light #g'raha tia #wol x g’raha tia #wolexarch #wolgraha #romance #fluff

[aethernoise]

Ch 46 - Lead and Follow

Aymeric/WoL | words: 4102 | rating: pg13

Here was a strange precipice upon which she surrendered her lead, shifting power to him so that he could navigate for them both. As brave as she had become, Aymeric was still the one with the most experience in traversing and surviving a ballroom.

“Might I have this dance, my lady?”

-

Alyx had changed. Such an observation felt banal at first--after all, after so many years of a life like hers, how could one not?--and yet Aymeric observed changes in the smallest and gentlest of ways, ways that never ceased to enchant him.

He counted himself lucky every day that he was privy to such details. He knew he was not the only one who could have noticed her growth: the Scions were like family to her, the only family she had since childhood. Yet he knew how fortunate he was to know her the way he did, especially on nights such as this one full of posturing and pretense.

She had been away for some time, but returned to Ishgard on the eve of a soiree he mentioned moons ago. How she managed to remember important dates despite her myriad travels and travails never ceased to impress him. Yet here she was, with little word of warning save for the assurance in the closing of her last letter:

“I haven’t forgotten about that midsummer party, by the way.”

She did not need to make a grand entrance for Aymeric to notice her as soon as she entered the room. The room was woefully large, however, and he remained partially ensnared in the necessities of mingling. Yet he could observe from where he was, even just with peripheral awareness--her presence rather than her words was what reached him, and his mind wandered again to compare and build upon countless memories and details.

For indeed, she had changed. Particularly noticeable was that no longer did she seek to shrink beneath the appraising eyes of Ishgardian nobility. Now she seemed to rise to it like a challenge, sparklingly confident and almost regal in the way she commanded the attention of the room. She was guarded, always, never showing an entire hand or speaking plainly enough to do any harm, but there was still something genuine about her nature. She put on no airs, gave no fake smiles nor rote verbal formalities. She no longer looked and acted as though she were playing a part for his benefit or even her own. She was simply herself: stunningly charming, with energy infectious, and the observation enkindled such a fire of admiration in his chest he had no idea he was grinning like a fool at her halfway across the ballroom.

Her eyes met his mid-sentence and widened slightly. The tiniest curl at the corner of her mouth begged the freedom to unabashedly smile back, but she remained steadfast in whatever pleasant conversation she was attempting to complete. He looked away quickly as if to hide what was surely recognizable to anybody as a completely naked look of affection despite the knowledge that there was no secret, not anymore.

Truly, there never had been. Discretion was not the same as secrecy, and they had appeared on one another’s arm (and remained on the other’s hip) enough times for their relationship to be well-known.

And yet, as ever, he remained cautious, even when he felt fit to burst with excitement he instead channeled into fidgeting with a cufflink.

With a kind yet not overly respectful incline of her head, Alyx extricated herself from the tight orbit of the fellows she was speaking with and ventured toward Aymeric. She moved swiftly to cover the distance between them and all the while the subtlety of her expression burned away into sunshine-- sunshine wrapped in elegant shadow.

The gown she was wearing was not one he immediately recognized, yet one he would still know anywhere simply for it being so incredibly her--black silk with a modest yet flattering neckline allowing ample view of her collar bones, with skirts not too full for practicality, yet not too narrow to impede her movement. Several fingers glittered with rings even while silk gloves fit her like a second skin past her elbows, drawing exquisite attention to the shapes of her upper arms and shoulders--and then, of course, there was the back of the dress, or lack thereof. The edge of the bodice dipped brazenly very near to the base of her spine, and the sparkling chain of an adornment not unlike a necklace hung low to catch the light in the shadows between her shoulder blades.

Upon noticing this particular detail Aymeric immediately felt like he was the cat being offered some manner of dangling temptation to chase and to play with--or merely obsess over while she held it out of reach.

“Staying out of trouble, Ser?” She asked him mildly but fondly. He offered his hand and she took it firmly.

“For now,” he answered. He pressed a kiss to her gloved knuckles, savoring the heat of her skin through the thin barrier of fabric. “Though I have half a mind to create some if I am to endure much more of this.”

Her smile went crooked, but her tone was empathetic rather than mocking: “Had enough of the palaver already?”

Aymeric glanced beyond her into the sea of opulence and mingled voices that filled the ballroom. It was a bright and hazy din of a party, one he was sure he could have enjoyed in another mood--after all, the two of them had become quite practiced at finding amusement even in the most insufferable of soirees. As long as they were together he could keep his sanity.

Tonight, however…

“You seem to be faring quite well in that regard yourself,” he observed, recalling the group she had been briefly entertaining before she joined him.

“I hope you didn’t feel abandoned,” Alyx said more quietly. Aymeric blinked in mild surprise at the statement; she squeezed his hand. “Lip service, I think is the term. I have been successfully avoiding pleasantries with at least a third of the people in this room for far too long. I might as well get it all over with at once. Perhaps I can fill the quota for a few moons more.”

He had to chuckle at that.

“Besides,” she added, her emerald gaze flitting away from him, “All the small talk is working to keep me distracted.”

Positioned such as they were, he knew none would perceive the path of his fingers along the chain of the necklace hanging down over her back. Alyx nearly jumped out of her shoes.

“Distracted?” He teased in a low voice, feeling her skin pebble under his touch. “From what are you seeking distraction, pray tell?”

She pivoted to face him--her jaw was tense and her eyes were very bright. It was his turn to lose his breath when she reached up toward his neck--his blood boiled and he wished she would tug him down sharply by the cravat to kiss him, as she was wont to do, but she merely tucked her fingers under the edge of the collar, feigning to straighten it.

“It might have something to do with a letter I received while I was away,” she said. Her voice was even, her brow furrowed in complete dedication to the task she was faking. A gloved fingertip lingered half a second longer against his pulse before she smiled and deemed his neckwear acceptably adjusted.

Aymeric felt like some kind of bewildered animal--how even the word “letter” had managed to bring their entire correspondence back into the fore of his mind was surely some kind of instinctual reaction.

(He was, however, quite pleased to note his words had found their mark. Would that time had proven more conducive to resolution of their detente.)

“Have you formulated a reply?” he asked her.

Her eyes narrowed but her smile remained: brilliant and bewitching, predatory.

“Not yet,” her words were clipped short. “Haven’t had the chance."

There was a beat of tenuous silence among the dull roar of their surroundings.

And then, for a moment, they both lay down their weapons in a truce born of shared affection and understanding. It had been a long correspondence befitting a long absence---regardless of any games between them it was a blessed relief simply to be together. Though her eyes still burned, Alyx’s smile turned soft, and Aymeric could only return it with a rueful exhale.

"For my part: I have done my rounds," he said, "And if I recall correctly, our gracious hosts are unlikely to remain gracious long after the ninth or tenth bell."

“Well, I was about to ask you the time,” Alyx replied, “but I know you’re carrying a broken chronometer.”

The remark awarded her a clumsy laugh from his chest and a smile he had stopped trying to contain.

“Alas,” he adopted a tone of mocking lament, “What are we to do now?”

Alyx’s eyes were drawn by something beyond and behind him, something that made her expression change. It was an odd, determined sort of smile--not one of victory, but one of progress.

“Dance,” she said simply.

Aymeric hadn’t even heard music until she said it.

“Enough speaking, Lord Speaker,” she declared before he could even reply, “Let us run out this cursed clock on the dance floor.”

-

They were not the first pair dancing that night, but neither could deny the note of uncertainty and thrill that came afore reaching the edge of the crowd.

Alyx paused and turned to him with the glow of the room caught in her jewelry. She extended a hand politely, now offering rather than guiding him. Here was a strange precipice upon which she surrendered her lead, shifting power to him so that he could navigate for them both. As brave as she had become, Aymeric was still the one with the most experience in traversing and surviving a ballroom.

“Might I have this dance, my lady?”

Part performance, part habit, part loving gesture of respect. Alyx may have nearly dragged him there, but she still waited for him to ask.

“Of course,” she said.

Her free hand found his shoulder and his found her waist. The band had begun a fairly lively waltz, an easy one to slip into once he spotted an opening. He loathed to relate such a civilized sort of experience to war, but there was something inherently tactical about it: Aymeric waited and watched the same manner he would survey a battlefield before entering the fray.

He deigned to look back at Alyx before taking the plunge and was struck to notice she was not watching the room as he was, but rather watching him.

The blind leading the blind, Aymeric thought whimsically. She gave him an expectant but comfortable half-smile. He took half a step, a gentle lock into closed position, and swept them both into battle.

Light and color whirled in time with the music. The room was swallowed in broad, round tones and a jaunty, cheerful tempo--this waltz was quick and invigorating. Alyx followed but at the same time seemed to pull him along with her gravity. She was impressively light on her feet when she meant to be.

Aymeric's memory wandered.

“Do you remember,” he wondered just loudly enough she could hear, “The very first time we danced together?”

“It was that Haillenarte party,” Alyx confirmed immediately. “A godsdamned mess.”

Aymeric laughed. “I have rather fond memories of it, myself.”

Fond memories in a time otherwise rife with disquiet were ones Aymeric fought to hold onto. The details were superfluous: exactly what the soiree was for, why he was there, why Alyx was there--none of those things remained. He could only remember feeling giddy but so calm all at once, her presence a paradox. He could somebody be both energizing and soothing?

He remembered her seeming uneasy, however--thoughtful, distracted. He offered her a drink partially out of sympathy, assuming she was simply nervous to be at such an event. She declined him politely and he did not think further about it until much later.

It would still be quite some time until she would drink in public again.

“Easy for you to remember it fondly,” Alyx scoffed, “You didn’t completely embarrass yourself.”

His friend and comrade was stiff with nerves at first but a fine dancer. He was not surprised--was there anything unimpressive about the Warrior of Light? Even so, Lord Emmanellain had done her no favors in his warnings.

“Hope you’re wearing armored boots, old boy,” he slurred jovially. It was a good-natured jab as if between siblings, but it didn’t take long for Aymeric to deduct that any foot-stomping had likely been intentional.

Alyx was not embarrassed by her dancing, however.

“I trust you are referring to when you had your--what was the term you so hated me using at the time?”

The music swelled and burst around them. Each step and glissade felt refreshingly natural.

Alyx’s voice was pointed, as was her fingertip poking him in the arm: “Swoon.”

Aymeric repeated the word with grinning emphasis and she rolled her eyes so hard it looked painful.

"Yes, your little swoon that I am fairly certain nobody else noticed."

“So you tried to convince me,” she said.

He could not remember if he had tried to comfort her with the fact that he had seen it before. When it happened in his office it seemed little more than a sudden headache, but there was an instant in the liminal space between songs at the Haillenarte party where the Echo took her completely.

She slackened in his grip and surely would have fallen to the floor had he not been there to catch her. It was as if she had simply blacked out for a few seconds and then come back wide-eyed, clinging to his hand like a vice.

He could not remember what he told her, only that she would not stop apologizing to him. Her eyes were bright and her cheeks were flushed while she laughed derisively and called herself a “pathetic damsel in distress” who was “falling all over because her corset’s too damned tight.”

(His somehow perfect memory of exactly what she was wearing was keen to point out she was likely not wearing a corset at all. The style of dress she wore was elegant but a far cry from the more outrageously “fashionable” Ishgardian styles of the time. Characteristically practical, he had thought, and lovely besides.)

One, two, three, four-- the strings unfurled themselves measure upon measure.

“What has you so nostalgic?” Alyx wondered of him. Her fingers shifted in his, the silk of her gloves tracing callouses. They glided and turned, and she never once looked where she was going.

Only at him.

“Much has transpired between that night and this one,” Aymeric paused with a smile, and spun her in his arms. “Somehow I find myself with a particular feeling."

She shook the rays of coppery sunlight framing her face before she wondered further: “And what's this feeling?”

His arm curled a bit tighter around her waist, perhaps tighter than polite society might approve of for a dance between diplomatic allies. Tighter than he had the first time, so long ago.

For a moment his entire awareness was the feeling of warm skin, the muscles of her lower back shifting under his hand. It was familiar: soul-deep and intoxicating.

“Despite all that surrounds us,” he began, struggling for words as much as his wits, “Everyone in this room, in this house or malms beyond--’tis as if the world were only you and I.”

He leaned in, smoothing the pad of his thumb up along the gentle curve of her spine. “As if you have performed some manner of enchantment-- magicked us far away from all of this.”

Alyx wet her lips. Her eyes were bright and fierce, as fearless as her feet beneath her.

A change of song delayed what reply she might have given. She snapped back into her awareness of the environment, of the sound of everything surrounding them. Her brow quirked.

“Damn,” she muttered, “How does this one go again?”

It was a less common dance, one slightly more complex but well-loved by pockets of high society. She surrendered her lead once again, wheels turning behind an emerald gaze while she sought her memory for the details.

“We begin side by side,” Aymeric reminded her, partially reminding himself, “Like so.”

Shadow position. He repositioned himself beside and behind her, one hand following her waist.

“One, two, then again, one, two--”

“Yes," she thought out loud through each measure, "and then turn?”

Out and in and out and in, just like breathing. They followed an instinctual rhythm held between them, wrapped in the heat of frenetic strings and the drumming of piano keys. She spun in again and remained; he lightly grasped her other hand.

“Perfect,” he said softly against her hair.

She stiffened with an inhale on the downbeat. Arms crossed over her chest, her fingers curled more tightly into his before the swell of the following measure bid her let go. Her skirt flared around her ankles when she spun away from him and then back, the fabric softly gliding and catching the light in a way that made it appear almost blue rather than truly black.

“You have it,” he reassured her. Turn, turn, and repeat-- she was solid and warm and so close, not close enough.

He saw half of a smirk over her shoulder. “You have it, I think,” she corrected him.

Aymeric held her waist in one hand and followed the solid curvature of her arm with his other. From elbow to wrist to the tips of her fingers he matched and then enveloped her reach. A collection of notes glittered above the melody. Beneath it, the rhythm churned, in and out and forward and back.

“To talk of witchery,” Alyx said after what felt like a long silence, “This dance makes me feel rather like a puppet on strings."

He replied in reverence as much as jest: "As if I could even hold your strings."

"Of course you can," Alyx disagreed quietly.

Maddening heat trickled down his spine; he swallowed thickly. She only allowed him mere seconds of reprieve before she added: “I know you rather like it, in fact.”

Merciful Halone. Clearly she was back on the offensive. Aymeric counted himself lucky that he couldn't see her face--that look he knew would be there waiting for him.

Then again--

He parried comfortably despite the realization that holding her from behind was likely just as bad. “You know me very well," he said.

She made a confident sound of affirmation but he still noticed how heavily she swallowed. He couldn't feel his feet and hoped they were behaving normally. Fury guide my steps at the very least he thought wryly.

“I do know you very well," Alyx said, and turned again in his arms, hands crossed and entwined. Strings in high notes seared the air while he followed helplessly trying to remember he was supposed to be the one leading.

Her expression was polite and cool while her voice roiled in him like a wildfire: "I know you better than anyone else in this room could even fantasize about," she said. Self-satisfaction looked almost as good on her as her current ensemble. "And were none of them here," she continued, weaving, facing away again. "I would know you right now.”

He glanced out at the ballroom as if to confirm they were still surrounded by their fellow guests. He was prepared for reprisal despite the maddening urge to mar the beautiful back of her neck and shoulder with his mouth.

“Darling,” he said, “Were none of them here, I would have known you twice already.”

With timing absolutely perfect in its absurdity, the music stopped. They skidded to a halt and Alyx gripped his forearm for balance. Then in a moment even more perfect: the both of them erupted into violent giggling.

“Seven hells,” she sighed through a fading laugh. She looked up at him with bright eyes and flushed cheeks, mirth mingled now with concealed emotion. “I’ve missed you so much.”

It took every onze of Aymeric’s willpower not to seize her wholly in his arms and crush them both. His heart was euphoric but aching, everything inside him warm, desperately happy and forlorn all at once. For there it was: through all of their flirting and sparring and brazenly written letters was the most pure and simple yearning he had ever felt--all for her, always.

Much had changed yet nothing had changed. Some things, he mused, never could. He simply squeezed her hand and felt the cool, hard surface of her engagement ring press into his palm.

“And I you,” he said finally, barely--his voice was gone, his throat parched. In place of music a cloud of happy chatter surrounded them and yet it all sounded so far away. He hadn’t a clue how much time had passed.

“Join me for a drink?” He suggested. Alyx nodded and curled her arm around his.

“Lead the way, my lord.”

-

The journey out of the ballroom was a veritable gauntlet. Now several drinks in and enlivened by dancing, the crowd had become somehow twice as chatty. Some had become braver and somehow even more tenacious in their ability to embroil him in small talk.

Idle, bland observations about the party. Political gossip. At least half of the entire House of Lords was in attendance, and some of them talked so much he observed drily that they were far more deserving the title of “Speaker.”

Alyx was just as much of a draw, if not more. The recent developments in the Firmament had put her back in the public eye--quite favorably, for the most part, yet what she had called “lip service” before seemed to be getting exhausting.

“How many times is that now?” She wondered upon their escape from another skirmish. The party was a grand, concerted battlefield no longer-- only strings of tiny, sickeningly polite engagements.

As always, some thought it an appropriate tactic to ask after their personal life ad nauseum. Tonight’s favorite subject was the scintillating mystery of their upcoming nuptials.

“Four, tonight, I believe,” Aymeric approximated.

When could they expect a wedding announcement? Had they made any decisions on details? There was at least one well-meaning but nevertheless rude remark about family planning that seemed to fluster Alyx more than the rest. She promptly excused them from the conversation without explanation.

They rounded a corner into the hallway off the ballroom out of earshot. She still looked as radiant as the sun and sparkling night sky combined, but once free of the crowd he could see the light of her confidence waned.

“How are you faring, dearest?” He asked her softly. She smiled and sighed. Weary from battles of myriad varieties, she followed his gentle lead further down the hall.

“Fine,” Alyx answered, only half convincingly, “Just tired. Needed a moment.”

Aymeric needed far longer than a moment. They paused and he drew close, wrapping one arm around the small of her back. He lifted her chin with the other hand.

“I think we have run out the clock quite long enough tonight,” he said, “Would you agree?”

Her eyes brightened under inquisitive brows.

“I would,” she murmured. She turned her face into his caress to press her lips to the heel of his hand. She smirked when she looked back up at him. “If you think we can leave without upsetting decorum.”

“Fuck decorum,” Aymeric said flatly, and kissed her.

He simply could not--nay, refused to resist the temptation any longer. He found his chance and he took it, heat crushing and lighting him from the inside. She stretched up onto her toes to press all of her weight against him, meeting him in exuberant reprisal.

When they parted, her voice was rough and breathless through a smile that tasted vaguely of lipstick and wine.

“I love it when you talk like that,” she said in a teasing sigh, smiling still as she seized him by the cravat to pull him into another kiss. It was his turn to smile, crookedly, giddily, forgetting entirely for a moment that they had only a wall between them and the rest of the party. As admittedly exciting as the realization was, he broke himself free.

“I love you,” he said, “My most bewitching and beloved companion.”

Alyx chuckled, still holding him close, eyes bright in the long shadows.

“Shall I...how did you put it? Magick us far away from all this?”

Though not entirely certain of her subtext, if there was any, it did not matter. He would follow her anywhere.

“Lead the way, my lady.”

That was unlikely ever to change. -

#my writing #emmerwrites #aymeric/wol #wol/aymeric #aymeric de borel #alyx and aymeric #ffxiv fanfic #ffxiv fanfiction #i damn well mean to try #dancing! banter! tension! yearning! #and several long form metaphors! #i hope you enjoy #WOO YEAH UPDATE! #fuq tumblr formatting smh #idk why i have to fight with it so much sometimes sdkjfh

[whitherliliesbloom]

eyes fixed upon a shiny ray

[ ffxivwrite2021 ] ★ [ masterlist ] ★ [ prompt #24 - illustrious ]

[ alphinaud/wol ] ★ [ 2,858 words ]  ★ [ aetherweave au ]

witch / wizard academy au i’ve never written for. features mintdrop’s totomi and windupdragoon’s kirishimi. mentions heirsofdiscord’s moth’ir, ancientecho’s laurelis, peachteaoni’s lily and windupnamazu’s lunya.

illustrious-  famous, well respected, and admired

asking the star student of the most prestigious magic academy in eorzea out to the end of year prom is as daunting as it sounds

“Gods, sulk all you want, but can you at least stop pacing? You’re making me dizzy.” Alisaie sighs heavily, resisting the urge to yell only because she knew full well that her voice would echo through the halls at lightning speed, and she’s already been reprimanded for noise disruptions one too many times in the past now. 

Where she sat atop the wooden desk, she glared down at her twin, who has been walking laps around the back of the classroom with his hands plastered upon his chin for the past 10 minutes now. Alisaie had hoped to spend her free period practicing Blitz Ball, but it would seem that her brother and practically the rest of the academy was far more hung up about the upcoming end of year promenade dance, and she’s close to getting sick of all the endless chatter about who everyone was going to ask out as their dance partner.

The young witch in training had about just the same amount of interest in her brother’s love life as she did history of the arcane arts, which is to say none at all. But family is family... and if Alphinaud failed in his endeavor to ask out the girl he’s had his eyes set on for the past year now, she will never hear the end of his relentless mutters.

“Just ask her directly. It’s not that hard is it?” Thancred thinks to chime in from two desks away, fiddling with his jet black wand. 

And though Alisaie wholeheartedly agrees with Thancred’s assessment, she cannot bring herself to pass up the opportunity to call him out either.

“Hah, like you’re one to talk. How long again did it take for you to ask out Moth’ir? And you’ve known for what, almost your entire life now?” 

Light banter and friendly, healthy amounts of spite is normal among their group, and Thancred seems to be unaffected by Alisaie’s words as he throws his hand up and shrugs with an unapologetic smile. 

Alphinaud doesn’t stop pacing - not until he feels a light zap of lightning strike his bare hand and jolt him out of his focus, his head turned up to look at the wide chesire grin of the transfer student who twirled his leopard patterned wand between his index and middle finger playfully. Internally, Alisaie thanks the high heavens.

“Hien!” Alphinaud’s voice is a mixture of accusatory, confused and startled, and the raven haired student could only let out a hearty laugh before leaning himself back against the wall.

“Relax! A little jolt won’t kill you.” Hien begins waving his wand recklessly in the air, no doubt asking for reprimand if a teacher were present. “Anyways.. Who’s the lucky girl who’s caught the eye of our Alphinaud here? Must be someone quite special for him to be so nervous.”

Everyone’s eyes collectively widen, now fixed upon Hien as Thancred opts to answer on behalf of his friend.

“You don’t know? It’s Illya. It’s always been Illya.”

“Mm... Sorry, the name doesn’t ring any bells.”

The silence lingers a little longer now, as the other three exchange wide eyed glances of shock between them. 

“Y-you.. you don’t know Illya?” Alphinaud sounds utterly taken aback, and Alisaie almost speaks up to remind him that not everyone would be as enamored with the star student of Aetherweave as he is. 

“The little witch of a thousand miracles? Lady of the endless garden? The viola nebula? The star blossom? The tamer of the beasts? The one who pulls down the stars and wears them under her hat?” As he listed off the top of his head some of the most famous titles that had belonged to the object of his infatuations, Hien could only hum softly in thought as a response.

“I’ve heard of a few of those titles... I didn’t think they were all referring to the same person, however. Just how many names does she go by?”

Had it been anybody else, Alisaie would have probably accuse them for living under a rock - because anyone who has studied at Aetherweave academy would certainly not go long without hearing of Illya’s name. She didn’t know a single person in the academy who has not heard of at least one of the girl’s heroic exploits with her friends. 

Hien however was a transfer student, one who came from a sister academy back in the Far East only a few months ago, and despite having settled into his new surroundings comfortably, is still not entirely aware of all the gossip and rumors that run rampant in the magical halls of Aetherweave. 

“More like.. what name doesn’t she go by.” Alisaie’s shoulder rises and falls. “Have you heard of what happened just three months ago? About the Guardian Tree at Everschade?”

“That rings a bell. It was in the process of dying but somehow magically got rejuvenated and started to bloom purple flowers, didn’t it?”

“That was her doing.”

Now, Hien’s eyes are wide in surprise, letting out an elongated whistle as he crosses his arms over his chest. 

“By the kami...”

“She was also one of the few students in the academy to have not only met but also tamed a wild wyrm. They say her new dragon friend, Midgardsormr is sitting right in her backyard.” Alphinaud adds, “Her friends and her were also the ones who were at the front of the charge in the winter of last year, defending the school when there was a surge of Sineaters coming from Lakeland.” His hand rises up to hold his chin. “Not to mention, she’s a top student. She’s consistently been in the top 5 of our year when it comes to grades. And her command over magic is praised even by grandfather himself.” 

Praise coming from Archon Louisoix himself? That certainly is something worth prestige and recognition. Rightfully impressed now, Hien’s lips turn upwards into smirk as he turns to look back at the boy. 

“Well, I can see why you’d like her. What’s the problem then, friend? Is she not easy to get along with?”

At Hien’s suggestion, Alphinaud quickly shakes his head.

“Oh, no, she’s not like that. She’s very approachable. Perhaps a bit...shy, and not very good at speaking to strangers at all, but she’s a wonderful person. Perhaps... a bit too nice, is all.”

With his response, Alphianud drops his head with a heavy sigh and casts his glance downwards onto the floor in exasperation, and it prompts Hien to hold back any further questions. He merely turns to look at Alisaie and Thancred, who can only frown and shrug respectively in silence.

It wasn’t that Alphinaud hasn’t tried to ask the girl out - he’s been trying to for months now, well before even the details of the promenade dance had been released and he saw it as a good opportunity to finally ask the girl out to be his dance partner. 

He’s tried many times, and failed spectacularly an equal amount. 

Perhaps as a result of her kindness, Illya has found herself surrounded by a group of other equally individualistic and unique friends who, in one way or another, has interrupted Alphinaud’s attempts to ask her out at least once. 

He remembers Illya’s best friend, Laurelis, a joyful miqo’te girl who was well aware of his affections for her friend and is even the most enthused out of all of Illya’s circle about helping them get together... but has also unknowingly sabotaged his attempt to ask the girl out to movie date when she’d pulled Illya to town right after school for an impromptu shopping trip.

Lunya, a sharp-tongued girl who had been in a different class from Illya had been ecstatic to find that her friend, who she would not normally get much time to study with, had opted to take the same astrology and fortune telling electives as her. And for the three months that they had been together, she would always swiftly pull Illya away from him with a protective glare. 

And Lily, who studied in the year above them and was close and dating Illya’s pseudo big-brother figure, had busied Illya with the task of tutoring her after class on how to become better at healing magicks, an endeavor that took up almost all of Illya’s spare time and he could not in good conscious ask her to abandon her close friend’s heartfelt request - especially after learning that her wish to become better at healing stemmed from an accident that Kaye had almost sustained a fatal wound for during last year’s battle against the Sineaters. 

He can no longer keep track of the number of times he’d failed in his attempts, let alone take into account his own confidence beginning to waver... but the two golden foil tickets and a pressed lily in his pocket weighs heavy, and as Tataru and Krile had so eloquently egged him on and warned him, he might not get another chance ever again if he missed this one. 

“OI! HIEN!” A loud, boisterous voice calls out, and a loud thud and an ‘oof’ from Hien sounds out, followed by a breathless chuckle as he shakes the woman who had tackled him against the wall off himself. 

“Kiri, your greetings are enthusiastic as ever, but we’re in the middle of something now.” 

“Huh?” Mismatched eyes finally turn to look at the twins and Thancred, and she lets out a nonchalant shrug. “Oh. Uh, sorry I guess. I can leave ya guys to it then.”

“No, it’s quite alright, Kirishimi.” Alphinaud smiles warmly at his senior, the tone of his voice amiable as ever. “We weren’t talking about anything important.” 

“I didn’t know you considered you not being able to ask Illya out to prom as being unimportant.” His twin sister snickers, and Alphinaud bites back an aggrieved huff. 

“Alisaie-”

“Illya?” Kirishimi’s expression lights up, ears perking as she places her hands upon her hips and gestures towards the direction of the front entrance of the school. “Speakin’ of her, I think she’s leavin’ to go on a date with someone. I saw them going down the stairs after I passed by her classroom and they were talking about uh... ‘desserts’ or something.”

“W-What? A date?” There’s panic evident in her voice, normally already fair complexion on the elezen boy rapidly paling now as he takes a step towards the taller woman. “Is...Isn’t it still in the middle of the school period?? They can’t possibly-”

“Town’s only a few minutes walk away though?” Kiri retorts with a shrug, “They’ll have plenty of time before the next module an hour later... and maybe they’ll even have time enough to work in a kiss or somethin’-”

“I-I... I have to-” Before even hearing the rest of Kirishimi’s sentence, Alphinaud finds himself bolting out of the classroom door and down the hallway towards winding flights of stairs and talking paintings, who chime out in surprise and ask a collective series of ‘where are you going?’ which goes unanswered.

Thancred turns to look at Kiri, a suspicious glint in his eye as he quirks an eyebrow out. 

“She’s not really going on a date, is she?”

Kiri merely shrugs, a mischievious smirk plastered on her face as Hien wraps a proud arm around her shoulder, an equally triumphant grin upon his face.

----------------------

By the time Alphinaud’s found himself past a few feet in front of the building, and sees a familiar curtain of swaying white hair and a tall witch hat crowned upon it walking towards the fountain in the middle of the academy square and towards the front gates of Aetherweave, he’s already rapidly short of breath and found his legs aching, his lungs gasping and burning desperately for air. 

But he doesn’t allow himself to stop- cannot allow himself to stop as he swallows back the lump in his throat and continues sprinting forwards, his voice calling out to her loudly from across the pathway.

“Illya! Illya wait!” 

He thanks the twelve when he sees the lalafellin girl stop in her tracks and turn around with a bewildered expression, her companion beside her equally startled and stopping  next to her as well - though he pays no mind to them... cannot bring himself to exert enough energy to focus on anyone other than Illya. 

It isn’t until he gets closer to the pair, sweat trickling down his brow, his chest heaving as he pants for air heavily and his hands gripping onto his knees as he lurches forward does he finally recognize just who the mysterious student that Illya has decided to go on a ‘date’ with.

“W-wait.... wait a minute..” Alphinaud mutters in between huffs and sharp inhales, navy blue eyes staring down at a lalafellin with familiar straight cut bangs and ruby red eyes. “M-m.... Mint?!” 

Mint.... is Illya’s date? The genki self-proclaimed witch idol peppermint?? Who also happens to be dating his friend Estinien??? She’s who Kirishimi tricked him into thinking was Illya’s date?!

“Whaddya want Alphinaud??” Peppermint lets out a huff and a pout, seemingly unconcerned at his haggard state as she crosses her arms over her chests. “Illya promised to get cream puffs with me during our break time. If you wanna have some, you’ll have to get in line!”

“W-what...? That’s not...”

Twelve forfend... He’s been deceived utterly and completely... He’d like to think he would be a bit more perceptive and intuitive enough to know when he’s being lied to or played but... it would seem like all sense of rationality of his flies out the window when it comes to Illya.

The girl in question merely gazes up at him with concern swirling in her lustrous violet eyes as she tightens her hold on the book she had been holding close to her chest. 

“A-are you okay, Alphinaud?”

The worry in Illya’s voice urges Alphinaud to quickly swallow and give her a nod, a reassuring smile gracing his features despite his drained complexion.

“I’m... I’m quite alright. Thank you, Illya.” 

His heart skips a beat when his smile is mirrored by her, and the radiance of her presence is almost enough to leave him dumb and speechless until she speaks up once more to question him.

“Did you need something from me? You seemed like you were in a hurry-”

Oh seven hells... how is he going to explain his way out of this now? He could make perfectly reasonable and well timed excuses for his other failed attempts... and he could just as easily lie to her and say that it was nothing now... 

But he knows not only would that arouse suspicion, especially with someone as perceptive to people’s lies and intentions as Illya was... but it’d perhaps put her on edge around him in the future. 

And though he’d have liked to invite Illya to prom in private and free of an audience member consisting of someone from her circle of friends, he’s already made a right fool of himself and caused a scene between them.... So to hide away or run from the situation would be...

With a defeated sigh, Alphinaud fishes out one of the tickets from his uniform pocket and holds it out to the girl with trembling fingers, watching in anticipation as her own starspangled eyes widen in shock. 

“I-I.... I just wanted to ask... If you would perhaps like to go to prom with me?”

The normally talkative Mint is now completely silent, holding back impish cheers and laughter as she merely steps back to pump her fist in the air, leaving Illya on her lonesome as a heat quickly spreads across the girl’s fair cheeks and reddens the bridge of her nose. 

It doesn’t take much thought at all for Illya to raise a hand up to take the ticket from him, gazing down thoughtfully at the reflective golden foil and the silver letterings etched into the shimmering surface until she finally remembers to nod in answer.

“Um... Y-yes... I would love to-”

---------

Illya is grateful that nobody else other than Mint had been around to bear witness to what happened, or she’d be certain that the whole school would be privvy to the gossip before sundown. 

Mint’s teasing and chattering is enough on it’s own to deal with, as the girl cheerily munches into her cream puff and speaks in a hushed tone to the violet eyed girl on the other side of the table. 

“I’m so glad for you, Illya! Now you don’t have to worry at all!”

“Y-yeah... I-I suppose so..” The heat from Illya’s cheeks hasn’t dissipated, and she stares into the reflection of the warm milk tea in her hands. “B-but.. what am I supposed to do with the love letter? I’ve been working on it for weeks and now-”

Mint pauses for a moment, cheeks puffed up and full of food as she continues to chew and darts her eyes up to the white ceiling in thought.

“Hm... Well you can still give it to him! Maybe during the prom or something? I’m sure he’ll appreciate it very much!”

#ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #ffxivwrite2021 #ffxivwrite #kiwisffxivwrite2021 #alphinaud leveilleur #alphinaud #illya skawi #peppermint #kirishimi #fanfic #mine #aetherweave academy au #OH LOOK A FILL FOR AN AU I'VE BARELY TALKED ABOUT AGAIN #we've come so far #the title is lyrics from shiny ray by yurika! #which is little witch academia's OP

[porta-decumana]

Zadnor & Bozja’s Ending

I know it’s been the bandwagon to hate on Werlyt and I’ve been critical of that plotline in the past as well.  But Bozja may have just taken the cake for unsatisfactory storytelling, in my opinion, while also skirting into the same realm of “we’re gonna give imperialism a pass because maybe the Empire isn’t that bad uwu”.  Obvious spoilers for rank 25 quests, the Dalriada raid, and Bozja’s story ending under the cut along with screenshots.

This is a pretty critical look at Zadnor specifically so if you don’t wanna read that then feel free to bypass this post.

Bajsaljen’s Constitution was probably the first part that really made me scratch my head and question the entire plot.  I was convinced at first I was too sleepy to process what Bajsaljen was saying but then I went back and... yeah, he really did say that.

To which, Marsak calls him out on, a fact that I appreciate because my response was pretty much the same level of “wtf” as him and the nameless/dialogue-less NPCs in the room.

If you haven’t played Bozja in its entirety yet, you may not understand why I felt like this dialogue was incredibly appalling.  The instances are filled with horrific encounters, some of which are:

Dabog, a former Resistance soldier who was experimented on in order to become an expert warmachina pilot and later shows back up in Zadnor as a model swap for the final boss of Gyr Abania.  In other words, mutated beyond recognition.

Lorvo, another former member of the Resistance, who was tempered by the Queen.  You fight alongside his student, who is trying to save him.

Shemhazai, a death spirit summoned with auracite and the sacrifices of Garlean soldiers.

Delubrum Reginae’s 2nd boss (I believe?) are a group of former Blades who have been tempered and their bodies have mutated.  These are former comrades you, as the WoL, personally fought alongside in the early parts of the Southern Front.  Named characters with backstories.

Fabineau quo Soranus - a brutal commander that is known to torment his subordinates and use men and animals both as test subjects.  

And this is just a fraction of what I can think of off the top of my head.  So understand that when I saw Bajsaljen say the above parts, I was questioning what parts of the Empire he was talking about.  And I know he tries to use Misija as his reason for this but it still just doesn’t quite sit right with the literal everything else that happened fighting for Bozja.  Because you can make the argument that Misija saw the Imperial way of life better but also you can make the argument that she was enacting a revenge plan that transcended multiple generations.  Misija’s issue with Bozjan society was the mistreatment of her and her family as well as the murder of her ancestor-- classism.  And while her hatred of Bozja and its high society (the Blades) might be understandable, I think it does little to excuse the rampant death and cruelty the IVth legion goes on to do.

I think what Bajsaljen is trying to say is that he does not want to create another society that would create more Misijas. But in doing so, it feels like he’s giving the IVth legion a pass after all the atrocities they’ve done (even calling the occupation “peace” and that... hnghhh is it peace when people are being used as experiments, Bajsaljen?  And they’re being oppressed?) and it just feels really, really tone-deaf.  Especially given that Bajsaljen’s top soldiers were all, for the most part, tempered and then put to death.  That just adds an extra ouch factor.

I don’t wanna spend too long talking about this bit so I’m gonna move onto the next offender, which is Gabranth, or more specifically, what happens to Gabranth (or... how it happens, rather).  Honestly, I was uncomfortable with the Bajsaljen stuff but the Gabranth field notes absolutely floored me.  It feels as though there was either scrapped content here or... the team decided they could not continue the plotline with Gabranth any longer and decided to write him out in a note that only a handful of the playerbase will probably read because otherwise, there’s no indicator that Gabranth’s tale is over.  Here are the bits of the field note in question:

And you might go, “Wow, that’s a wild way to end the Bozja tale” to which I would agree and remind you that none of this is shown in-game, it’s all just in a field note that could be easily skipped over.  Yes.  That’s right.  Dalmasca’s freedom, Gabranth’s fate, Lyon going full mutiny... it’s all in a field note.  The ending Bozja cutscenes actually have dialogue like this:

In another scene, with Lyon and Gabranth in Valnain, Dalmasca.

Note: this is an allusion to Noah having the same terminal illness as his father.

The scene ends with Lyon looking surprised at the weapons and Sicinius and Gabranth go to discuss the findings.  The scene then cuts to this photo and the questline ends.

So to put it mildly... I’m mad.  Why are we supposed to find out the fate of Dalmasca-- something that’s been in and out of the story since Stormblood-- through a field note?  Why is Lyon’s betrayal also found out this way?  And Gabranth’s alleged demise?  I’m incredibly iffy on the choice to do this in the plot but I would be considerably less mad if any of this was indicated in the cutscenes.  I happen to really like Gabranth’s XII’s iteration and the fact that we got a field note on him made me excited.  I only found out about Dalmasca being freed, Lyon’s treachery, Gabranth’s death because of that.  And that was incredibly jarring to read given the cutscenes I had just watched.  There’s no indication that any of that would happen and I can’t help but feel as though that is a bit of lore that is often going to be overlooked by players who simply don’t think to check the field notes for important lore bombs.

I want to reiterate: I'm not specifically mad at the story decision to kill Gabranth (even if it’s a fake death), I’m mad at how this was all revealed to the players.  Particularly the bit about Dalmasca.  It discards the age-old rule of storytelling-- “show, don’t tell”.  I could forgive them for having to cut certain bits of Bozja’s story because of the pandemic severely hampering development but... there had to have been a better way than this.  Maybe redo some of the cutscene dialogue?  Maybe add in a little bit more to the final scene?  I was excited to face off against Gabranth.  I was excited to go help liberate Dalmasca, especially after the Return to Ivalice plot really set us up for that in the future.  This... just feels incredibly unfulfilling.  And I hope that this is not how they decide to end things with this section of the story.  The build from Return to Ivalice and the continuation of those plot threads in Bozja were great!  Having it unceremoniously ended in a field note?  Not so great.  

Two honorable mention things that I don’t have the energy to talk about at large

Mikoto’s visions don’t feel significant enough to the story.  This is particularly egregious in Zadnor’s arc, where she has a vision where she falls off an airship and then tells the WoL to not say anything because she “doesn’t want people to worry” instead of, idk, trying to find a way to save herself.  She only sees herself fall, she doesn’t see herself land.  But she insists there’s “nothing we can do about it anyways”.  It... felt like they didn’t really matter in the end?  Fran ends up deus ex machina-ing a rescue anyways so like... what was the point?

Misija's “redemption through death”, a tired trope that is even more tired in FFXIV.  I know there’s two different endings to this quest but Misija being executed after being mortally wounded by the Diablos Armament is the ending I received.

Going to harken back to the criticisms of Werlyt.  I’ll maintain my stance that I still think Werlyt had some glaring issues with it... but I will give it this.  It didn’t kill off characters from a side plot that had been going on since Stormblood in a field note.  And it didn’t involve the Werlytians being like “Hey let’s base our new constitution off of the VIIth legion... that is a great idea.”

Anyways, I still recommend doing Bozja if only because the Dalriada is a good instance with a very good final boss theme.  I did enjoy aspects of the questline but the ending really soured my opinion of it.  

#zadnor #a critical review #bozja spoilers #ffxiv spoilers #5.55 spoilers #long post #zadnor spoilers

[beyondtheduststorms]

thancred's side

1780 words. same shit different flavor - just thancred's side from my wolcred angst

tags: angst, unrequited love (from wol's side), 2.0 spoilers

post-Lahabread

Thancred was fading in and out of consciousness after the Warrior of Light beat Lahabrea out of his body. He could recall seeing a figure clad in bright light carrying him onto a Magitek armor. Gods know who that figure might have been, but the conscious remnants of the image he was able to recall suggested that it was someone he knew. A fellow comrade. And he knew that he felt safe seeing them then and there. Every ilm of his exhausted body seemed to yearn for the comfort that those arms brought along in their touch as his consciousness faded away.

Thancred was informed that (___) was the one who saved him from the Praetorium. On a magitek armor called Maggi.

'Tis only appropriate they are dubbed the Warriors of Light, he distantly thought. Had he not known better, he would have thought that the radiance he saw there was because of love at first sight.

But the shame of being possessed quickly came creeping in.

How could he, a Sharlayan scholar, get so close to the crystal of darkness that it could absorb him? He knew well better than any other person out there that it's dangerous to approach the Ascians in such reckless fashion - confound it all, he managed to get close enough to become possessed without even realizing it. He remembered staying around the Waking Sand with the damned Ascian voice in his head, telling him to scout the area for secret entrances, mapping the building in his head, and just sitting there & calculate how much Imperial men would it take to bring down all the Scions... and he couldn't have been doing it unconsciously. He knew who those commands would have benefitted, but he couldn't muster the strength to fight against it.

He was too weak and weary. Because he wanted to become stronger.... how ironic.

The Scions welcomed him back with kindness, telling him to rest properly and regain the strength he'd lost. They were all so nice to him. To someone who let himself become under the hands of an Ascian. And they worry for him, pity him, cares for him - there is no way they're not looking down on him for what he's done. Even when they're family, they're still really unrelated. Would he himself forgive someone else who's taken by the same fate, had he not been the one weakened by lust for strength?

Thoughts after thoughts sent him into a spiral. He rested his body, but he felt restless in his soul. His mind kept wandering off into territories of regret and sorrow, and he could still hear the voice of that damned Ascian ordering him around as if he's still being possessed.

He largely kept his composure when others were present, but he couldn't keep up the facade when he's alone by himself. When the other Scions went out for tasks and he's left alone in the library, the dim candlelights soothed him and drove him insane simultaneously, as it brought him both the familiar comfort of the Waking Sand's interior and the grim darkness inside of his own head when he was taken over by Lahabrea. The more he struggled to fight against that voice, the more he shrunk into himself, curling into a corner pulling on his own hair and clawing at his own skin as he tried to stop the growing voices inside of him. Lahabrea's voice ordering him around, and his own voice telling him he's naught but a disappointment to his colleague Scions; a traitor to his fallen comrades. Sometimes he would start singing by himself as if to recall his role as a bard, but also to ease the silent chambers of the Waking Sand. It was far too painful for him to bear, as it reminded him of the people who used to be there, his fellows who fell to the hands of the Imperials, the lively atmosphere that once existed there. The people that were no longer.

It was because of him that all those people had to die. It was because of him that any of this happened. It was because of him that they got ahold of Minfilia and Tataru and the others, and it was his carelessness that led Eorzea into the chaos that was Operation Archon.

He needed a distraction. From all of the things going on inside of his head, from the aching of his heart, and from the silence at the Waking Sand.

Regardless of his break, Thancred would still go out to buy orange juice for Tataru occassionally, and while the Warrior of Light being around the Waking Sand isn't at all a rare sight, the strange-looking highlander Hyur and the Miqo'te girl that accompanied them was a... peculiar bunch, to say the least. So he held on to that knowledge.

The Warrior of Light... eikon slayer, champion of Eorzea, Bringer of Light, the hero of our story -- all clad in armor to assist this funny looking Hyur. Still serving the people even while taking a break... how... zealous.

Thancred found himself clinging onto his knowledge of this adventurer. Why, with that same weary look he's wearing, maybe the esteemed warrior needs a distraction too?

And so that's what he did. He invited the adventurer out for drinking at night in Ul'dah - not too far from the Waking Sand so they can rush back whenever there's a problem, and not too close to where his problems lie. Surely enough, the one in question agreed with no further inquiries. Had he not known better, he would have thought that such an eager acceptance to his invitation was because of romantic involvements.

Night falls as the both of them travels to Ul'dah, the gentle moonlight carried their footsteps. The fun had just begun, he thought as he laughed endlessly at stories about Hildibrand the Gentleman of Light, Nashu his assistant and their funny little endeavors. It was distracting enough for him to stop thinking about his guilt for a while, but just like how the ocean's powerful waves falls back ashore, sometimes he would still experience such emotional waves even while he's having a good time. His footsteps became weary even when he's having fun, and his sighs inevitably slipped out at moments where his mind trailed off; and all that he hoped for was so that no one would realize he's not in his best state of mind. Several nights like this went on, and he would hope that he'd distracted the champion of Eorzea enough that the events of him being possessed wouldn't be brought up again, that everyone knew he was already his usual self again before long. He's back out drinking, laughing, having fun with a fellow Scion after weary days of endless battles and tasks, resting himself just as they told him to - he should be back on his feet. Right?

But of course, our Warrior of Light had keen eyes and a sharp mind... or so he thought. Truly his family, the Scions could see right through his bad little lies. This was also why he kept away from Urianger, Y'shtola, Yda, Papalymo, and especially Minfilia and the likes of them - they would know right away that his sorry little ass is lying, and there's nothing he could do about it. He thought maybe someone who hadn't been with him much wouldn't pay much mind to it, but alas, they are his family after all. Nothing escapes their prying eyes.

In the end, he lost it to the worrying eyes of his fellow Scion, the one who rescued him from the bane of the Praetorium and freed him from the grasp of that damned Ascian. He lashed out without thinking, projecting his own insecurities on the hands of someone who only tried to help.

You can't save everyone just because you want to. That's right. He couldn't save the Scions even though he wanted to so, so badly - trapped in his own head, not being able to break free from the Crystal of Darkness that had him controlled like some sort of puppet, he could do naught but weep in his own thoughts as he watched his friends slaughtered by the hands of the Empire. He tried keeping his composure, and everyone was so nice to him, but deep down he knew that even if the others forgave him, he could never forgive himself. Wanting to be stronger to protect others was just another step that shattered his own mentality as he fell to his own personal hell of judgement... where the judge, the attorney, and the defendant all himself.

He knew he was in the wrong. This adventurer, pulled into all this chaos all because of the Echo, was only trying to offer help. He had no rights to be shouting at someone who's only showing him their genuine care. But hearing the highly esteemed hero claiming to understand his feelings, his internal struggles and his mentality just drove him nuts, and he couldn't take it. He couldn't fathom that the Warrior of Light, of all people, would claim to understand how he felt, how much he blamed himself, how much he constantly berated himself in his head? It must be crazy easy to just throw your words out there, speaking to assure the peoples of Eorzea their issues are taken care of, because oh mighty slayer of Ifrit, Titan, and Garuda alike knows it all about guilt and shame, of all people?! What arrogance... to commit such feats, and telling people that you feel guilt and shame too!

It must be so easy... just going around telling people you want to protect them. Because you can. You are the almighty eikon slayer and bringer of Light after all - blessed by Hydaelyn herself. What could go wrong? What could you not protect? What is there for you to blame yourself on?

Such is the ridiculousness Thancred found in the words of thee Warrior of Light standing in front of him. He mustered the mental strength to step out of his sorrowful rage, put of a smiling mask, and offered a walk back to the Waking Sand, as per usual. There was not much else that he could do but blame the alcohol they had earlier, but knowing a crack opened up on his facade to this person specifically... somehow brought all the more guilt and pain to his heart.

Another dawn breaks to their backs, carrying the same light of day that shone upon the Vesper Bay of his uneasy days. The throbs that Thancred was feeling in his heart, mayhap...

... nay, it must have been from the hangover.

#angst #unrequited love (from wol's side) #2.0 spoilers #mutually unrequited #ffxiv #thancred x wol #wolcred #drabbles

[mrpinchy]

5.3 MSQ IM VERY UPSETTI SPAGHETTI but in GOOD WAY

FINISHED 5.3 MSQ I went in soon as the servers came up and didn’t stop, went in completely blind from start to finish took about 7hrs? I HAVE A LOT OF FEELINGS 

SPOILERS FOR EVERYTHING:

holy shit jesus christ OKOK

so first of all I cried A LOT like, way more than I expected and NOT JUST CUZ IT’S THE LAST PATCH OF AN EXCELLENT EXPANSION but cuz like, damn it hits hard man lol

so Leon is my WoL but he’s never been leveled/geared enough to do endgame UNTIL YESTERDAY when I caught him up on all the patch content (my main is Sig but he’s not my WoL). it was A LOT OF FUN to go through everything with the “right” character sorta speak, just a lot of really cool stuff idk how to explain it lol

HELPING THE LIL KIDS!!!!!! OH MY HEART also I noticed Tiqi-Rio had sunseeker eyes AND MOONKEEPER FANGS nicenicenicenicenicenice GOOD I WANNA SEE MORE OF THAT

so the FIRST Exarch fakeout death with Elidibus and him at the watchtower LIKE???? WHY YOU WANNA GIVE ME A HEART ATTACK SO EARLY omg but honestly seeing him so crystalized and struggling HURT ME A LOT baby boi BABY BOI NOO

going back to Amaurot so Elidibus can force you to kill the Scions soon as you get there WOW WHAT A DICK MOVE LMAO and then all the other characters they brought back like, even in the background it was really cool to see them in Amaurot????? idk I think some people will call it hammy or too referential? but fuck it I loved it LAY IT ON THICK, YOSHIP god it hurt me to kill Aymeric tho

holy goddamn I was so excited when Y’shtola ripped into Elidibus YEEES GET HIM but wow like, Elidibus is essentially a primal then idk AGAIN WE COME BACK TO THE THEORY THAT WoL IS A PRIMAL anyway

HEROE’S GAUNTLET I went in with Trust so I could take my time and it was the right choice, I LOOOOOOOVED seeing the role quest NPCs helping at the end -- I loved seeing all the NPCs helping you but especially them lol ESPECIALLY GIOTT FUCK YEEEEEEAH

god okay the SECOND Exarch fakeout death when Elidibus is like, hey I need your corpse die lol I WAS READY FOR THE PAIN and then jk jk jk OR IS IT

running up the tower with the Exarch, seeing/hearing how painful it was for him to keep up with his failing body, how he had to send you away without him.. OH MAN i cried YOU COULD FEEL HOW MUCH IT HURT HIM he was so close to having an adventure with WoL ;v; also liek... damn that ESPECIALLY hit, the whole “failing body can’t keep up with my dreams” thing HOOOO I KNOW THAT FEEEEEEEEL

went in completely blind with a random group for the Elidibus fight, I went WHM (im bad but semi-geared) and we only wiped twice!!! figured out we had to use tank LB midway and then healer LB towards the end LOTTA AOE HEALING

Emet-Selch’s shade giving us a boost during the fight, BOY MY GROUP WAS VERY UPSETTI in like a good way CUZ IT WAS VERY UPSETTING in a good way lmao emotionally everyone was just POINTING AND YELLING THERE HE IS!!!!

Exarch using the tower as a big auracite IM SO GLAD that was really cool to see, also like........ god idk but I cried A LOT when Elidibus turned into a little amaurotine kid all scared and alone just playing with the soul crystals and talking to himself, AND CRYING and and MY HEART EXPLODED goddamn i cried. he tried so hard for so long that he forgot what he was doing or why he was doing it, why he was suffering so much, and damn if that didnt hit hard. was Zodiark’s heart just a lonely kid all along

saying goodbye to the Exarch like I KNEW WE”D SEE HIM AGAIN but it still was Emotional, I felt so sad for Lyna especially SHE LOST HER GRANDPAAAA

Alisaie crying after Halric spoke ME TOO ALISAIE 

holy shit Dulia Chaii’s parting words to Alphinaud WOW I CRIED A LOT and when he got choked up?? I CRY god the Chais love that baby boy so much IM SUFFERING

holy shit Seto............. ohhhhhhhh I cried SO MUCH

Thancred saying goodbye to Ryne and telling her how PROUD he is of her like damn that hit me right in the HEART goddamn

finally i must say

IM SO GLAD GRAHA IS A SCION NOW I KNEW IT WE ALL KNEW IT WOULD HAPPEN BUT IM STILL SO HAPPY AND EXCITED I YELLED SOOOOOO MUCH WHEN WoL STARTED RUNNING TOWARDS THE TOWER LIKE!!!!!! AND THEN WHEN THEY SHOW GRAHA AGAIN OHHH!! BABY BOOOOOOI!!! HERE COMES A SPECIAL BOOOOOOOOI!!!!!!!!!!!!

that whole cutscene with Alisaie at the table WAS VERY WELL ANIMATED the whole thing was noticably better animated than previous cutscenes I LOVED IT!!! IT WAS VERY GOOD!!!!!! also ALISAIE IS VERY GOOD!!!!!!!!!

ALSO I NOTICE that gwaha’s ears wiggle A LOT MORE im so GLAD thank u yoship

OH GOD I FORGOT ABOUT ALL THE GARLEMALD STUFF oh jesus CHRIST

FUCKIN

ASAHI?????????????????? OH GOD OH GOD 

no idea who Fandaniel is (henceforth known as Fandango) but I ALREADY LIKE HIM A LOT he’s so animated (also this cutscene was very well animated GOOD JOB FFXIV TEAM YOU’RE DOIN GREAT HONEY) I sort of wondered if maybe part of Emet was like... around...?? cuz he reminded me of Emet with his flair for the dramatic but WOW I WAS NOT EXPECTING ASAHI UNDER THAT HOOD holy shit I yelled

also idk if unpopular opinion but I FUCKING LOVE ZENOS HE’S A SCARY PIECE OF SHIT AND IM TERRIFIED AND EXCITED

ALAS........... the final chapter......... it sounds like the next expansion is planned to be the FINAL EXPANSION and honestly.. Im so sad but also I Respect that decision. I respect that they want to end things in a good place, they dont want to “live long enough to become the villain” etc. and yeah it means FFXIV WILL DIE eventually but yknow, maybe that’s okay. even knowing the game will end i’m still so excited to play it all the way through, whatever it may be. I AM LOOKING FORWARD TO IT with all my heart and happiness

..im still SO EMOTIONAL lmao

#5.3 spoilers #ffxiv shadowbringers #ffxiv #shadowbringers

[yourkdramaanalyst]

MYSTIC POP-UP BAR REVIEW

• Introduction to the Drama

GIST:

Mystic Pop-Up Bar or 쌍갑포차 is about Weolju (played by Hwang Jung Eum), a spirit who is being punished by the heavens because of a mistake she made 500 years ago. To not end up in hell, she was offered to resolve the problems of 100,000 people and help them let go of their grudges. She opened up a cart bar where she hears the stories of her customers and help them out by visiting them in their dreams. Guibanjang or Manager Gwi (played by Choi Won Young) was sent to help her manage the cart bar. A month before Weolju's deadline, they met Kangbae (played by Yook Sung Jae), a customer service employer who can make people spill their problems and worries by being touched.

This drama is based on a popular web-comic Twin Tops Bar by Bae Hye-soo.

Hwang Jung Eum's last drama was in 2018 which made this drama her comeback. She is a Romantic-Comedy queen who is well known for her roles in She Was Pretty, Kill Me, Heal Me and Lucky Romance.

Yook Sung Jae is a member of the K-pop boy group Born to Beat or simply BtoB. He's famous for his roles in Guardian: The Lonely and Great God / Goblin and Who Are You: School 2015 (I still can't get over my second lead syndrome in this drama. I am Team Go Tae Kwang).

Choi Won Young was also in Kill Me, Heal Me with Hwang Jung Eum. He's been on many dramas like Hyena which was aired recently, Sky Castle and While You Were Sleeping. He also appeared a lot on the big screen.

• The Experience

When I watched the the trailer, it felt odd because it resembles Hotel Del Luna a lot. Even though, this kind of plot is already common among Korean series, the familiar setting, symbolism and elements are what made me think of Hotel Del Luna in particular. But no, Mystic Pop-Up Bar is not based on Hotel Del Luna at all because the web-comic was published in 2016, years ago before it aired on TV.

Here are some similarities and differences the two dramas have that I found:

1. Both the female leads are being punished for their sins and mistakes hundreds of years ago.

2. Both the female leads' goal is to help their customers resolve their problems. The difference is that Jang Man Wol focuses on the dead so they can ascend to heaven while Weolju helps both the living and the dead by entering their dreams.

3. Koo Chan Sung and Han Kang Bae. Both of these young and innocent men appeared to help resolve their cases.

4. The tree! The tree plays a vital role in both dramas.

5. The place of their business. Jang Man Wol has a fancy hotel that serves as a resting place for the dead while Weolju has a cart bar for people who have worries in life. 

These are just some of my observations. I'm not implying anything. Both dramas have their own uniqueness.

Going back to my experience, I can say it was pretty good. I was actually busy these days, even so, I was still able to binge-watch the drama. I thought I wouldn't be able to catch up but I ended up watching more episodes whenever I finish one. It was a pretty short one since it only has 12 episodes so it was fast to watch. I finished it in 4 days (I started watching 2 days before the release of 11th episode), which was understandable considering I am busy and also binge-watching other dramas.

• Points that I Liked About the Drama

1. It is easy to watch because it is light, quirky, and funny. Almost every episode is fun to watch but not to the point where you are gonna mistake the genre for comedy. It is not overdone. The scenes and their funny dialogues are what I enjoyed the most.

2. The flow of the story was just right for me. It's not exhausting to watch. Some dramas were hard to watch at a particular time. For instance, boring ones are hard to watch in the afternoon because it makes me sleepy so I prefer watching fast paced aka. exhausting ones in the afternoon. However, with Mystic Pop-Up Bar, I can watch it anytime of the day.

3. The characters are likable. I loved the trio. Even the supporting ones are warm and endearing. Sometimes I would even look for them in some episodes, specially Samsin, the conception dream provider and Kang Yeo Rin, Kang Bae's love interest.

4. Not emotionally draining. I had worries when I watched the first episode. "What if it becomes too emotional whenever they help someone?" Not really. I don't even remember crying. Dramas with plots like this, Hotel Del Luna for example, it drained me a lot that I ran out of tissues to wipe my tears. That's not a bad thing at all, it only means it has impact. It's just that with Mystic Pop-Up Bar, I watched it at a time when I am already physically drained. So far it was bearable. And it feels more fresh that way. (Sorry, I keep comparing the 2 dramas).

5. I like its uniqueness. They showed some afterlife scenarios that are really interesting. One example is the way they deliberate when a person dies, whether you'll get reincarnated or turned in an insect. Another is the afterlife Olympics. It's a really funny episode.

6. There is a theme for every episode/ every case. For instance, the food that they serve for the day has a connection to their client. One more example is when they had a Romeo and Juliet theme for a client who is a writer. They even paid attention to details like this which was fun and appreciative.

7. So Chan Whee's guest appearance! I literally jumped when she appeared out of nowhere.

• Points that I Didn't Like About the Drama

1. Predictable scenes. Not everything, though. Maybe just half of it. Especially the first few episodes when the story revolves mostly on the people who have issues that needed to be resolved. Mainly because, as I already mentioned, dramas like this are already common.

2. It got a little weird when it was almost ending. There are sudden appearances that didn't seem important at all. Their timing of appearance seems off as well.

3. The motive of Kim Won Hyung was not that convincing for me. He just annoyed me but I didn't see him as the main villain.

• The Ending

I did not have high expectations when I started to watch the drama. I told myself that I will not get disappointed if the ending feels rushed because that's usually the case with short dramas.

The ending was fine, though. There were unexpected turn of events which I found interesting and made me nod my head and say "Ohhhh, that's why!" Even though the conclusion was lacking a bit, I didn't regret watching it since I had a good time.

I didn't cry while watching the entire drama but started tearing a little the moment I realized it already ended. When Dive by Jung Jin Woo started playing along with some scenarios from different episodes, I felt a little sad. I will miss the characters for sure.

However, just like other dramas, I had a lot of issues with this drama, too. Don't worry, these "issues" are mostly just observations, uncertainties and questions I have because sometimes, I get out of focus and I get confused, too. I will mention them below on the issues section which you should skip if you want to avoid spoilers!

• Final Thoughts

Would I watch it again? No.

Would I recommend it? Yes. I would recommend Mystic Pop-Up Bar to those who like light and funny dramas. This is also a good drama for those who just casually watch dramas and those who are beginning to explore the K-Drama world.

I am giving Mystic Pop-Up Bar a 7/10.

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

• Issues (MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD!!!)

1. The queen or the crown prince's mother's appearance and her remembering her past life is too sudden. It seems off and too convenient. She died fast, too. And her death was awful.

2. The group of evil thugs at the last episode. When did Kim Won Hyung gather all those spirits? That was so weird.

3. If Won Hyung could change his face as revealed in the last episode when he pretended to be Weolju, why did he bother possess his father in the previous episodes if he could just change into anyone he likes? So he could prevent his father and him meeting the same people at the same time?

4. For Weolju to not be sent to hell after knowing who Cinnabar is, Guibanjang made it so easy. Just a quick negotiations with Yeomradaewang and everything is smooth once again.

5. Did Yeorin figure out that they are not CIA agents after all? LOL. And where did she go after fighting the weird thugs during the last episode?

And that concludes my Mystic Pop-Up Bar review! I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing this. I hope my personal thoughts and insights were helpful at all.

To more K-Drama Reviews! Cheers!

#mystic pop up bar #쌍갑포차 #ssanggab cart bar #yook sungjae #hwang jung eum #choi won young #weol joo #wol joo #han kang bae #chief gwi #guibanjang #btob #webtoon #web comic #korean #kdrama #korean drama #series #fantasy #comedy #historical #soju #korea #kpop #spiritual