#romantic tension is not at all my strong suit but by hydaelyn am i trying in this fic o7

[the-rogue-mockingjay]

"apocalypse state of mind" is calling to me... 👀 what a title!

YES YES YEEEESSS!!! Okay so the title is stolen from a song of the same name I really like by Aviators, here's the youtube link to his lyric video for it: [link]

And I'm OBSESSED. Unfortunately however, the fic kicked my ass majorly and it's been largely forgotten until now T^T due to moving and medical issues and the like. But I wanna get back to it and finish it!!!! It's O'ravi stopping by Aymeric's manor after the Tower of Babil/The Dark Inside to personally fill him in on what happened, because she can't stand the thought of anyone else breaking the news about the Final Days to him...also because she knows it may be her last opportunity to see him. And the last time they saw each other before this, he was walking her to the airship that would take her to Garlemald and like 30 seconds before it was supposed to take off, she very publicly and impulsively kissed him and IMMEDIATELY ran off and hopped on that airship fklgjhdkgjhd. Like girl did not say a WORD to him she just dipped !!! and left him with all those conflicting emotions!!!! But alas, there isn't time to talk about it :(

Snippet going under the cut for Big Endwalker Spoilers:

If someone had pulled O’ravi aside ere she set out for Gridania all those years ago and told her what would come to pass, would she set out on that road anyway, even knowing where it’d go, how it’d end, what she’d lose? The girl she was back then, so young, so naïve—such a far cry from the woman she was now. Eikon slayer. Champion of Eorzea. Hydaelyn’s chosen. Warrior of Light. Warrior of Darkness. Savior of Ishgard. Liberator. Warrior of warriors, a hero’s hero. Inheritor of Azem’s great work and legacy, destined to share in her grim fate. Those problems and threats that once seemed so dire—Gaius van Baelsar and the three tribuni that trailed at his heels, Nidhogg and his dread horde, Garuda and Shiva and Ifrit, Yotsuyu and Zenos, the scheming backstabbing bastards of the Syndicate and the infuriating political dance floor of Ishgard, Thordan and his thrice-damned Heavens’ Ward—they all seemed so laughable now. Small and simple, like the burlap straw-stuffed dummies children and rookies practice their swordsmanship or archery with. Even the Lightwardens could scarcely hold a candle to what they faced now. What was the destruction of one world that barely clung to life, compared to the destruction of all life on all worlds? What was the plight of Radz-at-Han or Eorzea when damn near all the people of Garlemald were thralls of a suicidal genocidal Ascian, a whole nation tempered, many to the point of transformation into hideous beasts? What was the plight of the people of Garlemald when the Source and all its reflections stood on a knife’s edge? What price for salvation was too high, and who held the right to make that call? The hideous, strangling fear bubbling up within her breast at the thought of losing her companions to this war for survival—just a drop in the ocean of sorrows to come. Just a drop of blood in the beating, stuttering heart of the world in its death throes. What was the loss of one single soul, balanced against the fate of the star?

#the dialogue is a mess rn so we're sharing the intro LOL #i have a terrible case of 'too many fucking words' disease dlghjfkhfkh #gotta trim it down but man. i do NOT know how to say things without using a bazillion million words #o'ravi soltholia #endwalker spoilers #romantic tension is not at all my strong suit but by hydaelyn am i trying in this fic o7 #rogue writes