mutasharid

[mutasharid]

@sunderedoldfriends requested a starter for Estinien:

For a gravely wounded man, the Warrior of Light was making quite a ruckus at the Barber's. The more sensible of the Healers had left, but one or two stubborn souls reminded behind to try and talk sense into the mage.

"I don't need to be attended to like some... invalid!" Vali raged while looking, if possible, even more angry than he had before he began to cough up specks of blood. He'd bellowed enough to strain his throat hoarse, held together with ruddy bandages that needed replacing, yet Arrzaneth had decided this was a feat he could manage on his own.

A roll of bandages was carefully gripped in his right hand, trying and failing to wrap it snug against the mangled remains oh his once dominant opposite. It had taken two weeks of sedation keeping him immobile, grafting the raw wound to a flap of skin on his lower abdomen above his hip. Once rooted, new skin began to form enough to remove it once more, at the cost of some bone and tissue remaining from the dregs of his necrotic middle digit. The remaining ring and pinky finger could barely move, trauma to the adjoining muscles and tissue having atrophied any dexterity he could perform.

An ugly line of stitches and stapling started a little below his sternum, the imperial viceroy's blade having caught him at a diagonal, carving into his chest to the shoulder.

Now that he was awake, all he could think about was the massacre that had unfolded at the Reach. How foolish he had been to think the empire was blind to their schemes and movements. He'd barely cobbled together some untrained young villagers to take up arms, convinced more sons and daughters of simple laborers to enlist and aid the Resistance. With those who remained with Commander Kemp after Baelsar's Wall, they barely had any numbers to rival that of an experienced legion.

The former Azure Dragoon's presence went barely noticed as Vali pulled at the bandages between his teeth, trying to knot the material and failing spectacularly. Growling out a frustrated noise of disgust, he curled his right hand into a fist and slammed it down on the wooden frame of the sick bed.

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He was taken by surprise, grunting as his back collided with the hardwood floor rather roughly and grimacing at the pain. He wasn't sure if Estinien wanted to kill him or merely was defending himself in response to what he perceived as aggression, but either way- He didn't want to have to hurt the Elezen if it was possible.

Vali froze in place as his gaze was directed upwards, staring back into the dragoon's eyes- His pupils were slitted and there appeared to be limbal rings now encircling his irises. The color was a deep crimson, the same color he recognized from when Nidhogg had manifested in his true form to fight Hraesvelgr at the Steps of Faith.

"You aether..." the mage replied, in a state of shock that such a thing were possible. "It's yours, but also his. But it's not like I can just separate certain pieces like getting rid of the eyes."

He licked his lips faintly, mouth gone dry as he tries to find the proper words for what he was sensing. Like frayed straw braided together, or two different metals smelted to make an alloy.

"It's intermixed, whatever happened when he possessed you, it's... like a part of you, now. Is it like before, is he trying to control you?" he asks, a morbid curiosity taking hold as he'd never seen anything akin to this kind of physical manifestation before.

Killing Estinien wasn't even an option that entered his mind as a possibility, whatever had happened, they would be able to figure it out with enough time. This was still his friend and cherished comrade and here Vali had been casually socializing with dragons the entire time that Varlineau had been suffering- All alone.

"I should have come to check on you sooner, I'm so sorry... Are you in any pain?" Concern etches it's way across his face despite the danger, but he knows the other male- Trusts him enough to overcome whatever... this was. Estinien was the strongest person he knew, he wouldn't just roll over and let the wyrm have full control while he still retained his sense of self. There was no war to fight anymore, the vengeance that once drove them both ceased to exist. It could very well be that the remnants of Nidhogg's fury had nothing to latch onto anymore, but continued to rage on like steam venting from a burst pipe. Eventually, it would have to run out... Or at the very least, that's what the mage hoped would happen.

Estinien was still cowering in the corner, tail flicking nervously from side to side as he looked upon this very familiar intruder. It was Vali Arrzaneth, infamous Warrior of Light, the man that ended the Dragonsong War, the man that had saved his life. Yet, upon laying eyes upon Estinien’s form he seemed to shy away from him, covering his eyes. What was he making such a big deal about? His nudity? Under normal circumstances Estinien would have been quick to cover himself, but this new side of him told him it didn’t matter, that there was nothing unnatural about it.

Another low growl erupted from his throat as he watched Vali trying to make his way through the room, his eyes still covered, averted, as if he couldn’t stand the sight of Estinien. In a weird and almost primal way it made him angry. They had known each other for a while now, they had fought side by side, they had trusted one another with each other’s life and now Vali turned his back on him like he was a vile creature he didn’t want to perceive. Was Estinien not good enough anymore to be looked at by the Warrior of Light? Had he turned into a creature that was destined to be eliminated by Vali, like so many others had before? But what about the feelings Estinien had harbored in his chest for a while now, this warm feeling of affection whenever he saw Vali get enthusiastic about discovering a new creature he had never seen before, were they not worth of being acknowledged?

No. There was a reason Estinien had locked them away in his heart, never to see the surface, because he had lived for vengeance and he couldn’t afford to be distracted by someone else. But the war was over. He did not need to fight anymore. And now those feelings tried to fight their way to the surface, violently so. Estinien was struggling with himself, trying to suppress these urges that tried to take control of him, it was just like before, when he had fought against Nidhogg’s influence.

Slowly Estinien rose to his feet, his head was spinning, but his gaze was still fixated on the mage trying to find something for him to wear.

“Vali.”

Estinien growled that name and then he lunged at the Warrior of Light, pushing him to the floor and holding him there. A clawed hand took ahold of both the Warrior’s wrists, pinning them to the floor above his head to keep him from fighting back, then his other free hand moved, claws slightly brushing over the sensitive skin of his neck before tilting his chin up.

“Look at me.”

The former Dragoon didn’t recognize himself. How easy would it be to give in to instinct and just tear open his friend’s throat, to bathe in the blood of the Warrior as payment for the countless dragons killed by his hand. No. Those thoughts were not his own and slowly but surely realization kicked in.

“Nidhogg. A fragment of him is still inside of me.” You have to kill me.

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It was almost strange to look back upon the journey they had undertaken. A seemingly impossible task: To end a centuries long war between Ishgard and Dragonkind. So much had happened, and they had in turn lost important comrades- Friends and respected allies wrenched too soon from this world. Of course Vali couldn't stand back and watch Estinien succumb to the wyrm, even if saving him was a futile effort, he would have tried anyway. They were all so certain that ending Nidhogg's life meant sacrificing the Elezen he was possessing in the process, but Alphinaud had managed to stabilize Estinien's health so that he survived the time spent even getting him to the chirugeons.

It was a victory, albeit a bittersweet one. Not long after, Estinien had disappeared, apparently to ties up some loose ends. Vali had been busy relaying the news of peace to Hraesvelgr and his kin, knowing that not all would take such a change in stride. The Elezen nobility had already balked at the mere idea, but Ser Aymeric managed to keep the peace to the best of his ability- Even after the messy attack during the unveiling of the memorial.

Change was never easy to accept, it was almost a natural human reaction to fear the unknown. But positive things loomed on the horizon rather than negative ones, that was for certain.

It had been nearly a month since and Vali had inquired about any sightings of Varlineau around the Firmament, but to no avail. Luckily, Aymeric did make mention of a smaller house that Estinien had once called home during his time as a temple knight, then dragoon. It happened to be near Dragonhead, so Arrzaneth set out to the bastion with a bottle of fine brandy in tow. They could always visit Haurchefant's gravesite together and fondly reminisce about the times shared.

Upon reaching the site, it almost looked... abandoned. Vali paused before reaching out for the doorknob and pushing his way inside the building, chaos greeting his vision. Everything had been upended, near thrown across the room and broken. The sight made him fear that someone may have been trying to get to the former Azure Dragoon before him, but there wasn't any signs of blood or a struggle... Beyond the broken array of furniture and household accessories.

"Estinien?!" he called out in a worried fashion, half expecting to find a corpse (or two) left with spear wounds in them. Instead, his eyes fell upon the man in question that he had sought out... just. Different.

"By the Twelve, what..." he trailed off, looking both worried and confused at the sight of hard scales, claws, and even horns protruding from the Elezen's skull.

He was no monster masquerading as his friend, it was Estinien kneeling before him... but what had happened? It was strange, this almost oppressive aura he felt- The aetheric signatures were of the dragoons', but also something else... or someone.

And he was completely naked, to boot, as if the situation couldn't get any more unintentionally awkward.

"Ah, uh- Sorry!" the mage stuttered, covering his eyes with his gloved hands.

"Do you... have any extra clothes lying around, or should I employ a tablecloth?" he asks, edging towards the small kitchen in search of something larger than a tea towel. The dragoon was far taller than his meager five feet and six inches of height, there was no way his coat would manage to fit unless it was tied around Varlineau's waist like a skirt or a kilt.

plotted starter for @mutasharid (inspired by this)

It was finally over. Finally Estinien could lay down the mantle of Azure Dragoon and find a new purpose in life. After dedicating his entire existence to vengeance his goal was finally achieved when the great wyrm Nidhogg had been slain and even though the Dragoon himself nearly succumbed to the possession of the dragon it was all thanks to the little Lordling Alphinaud and the ever capable Warrior of Light that Estinien was still alive. He had begged them to kill him when he managed to shortly regain control of his own body, he had wanted them to kill him as it would have meant to bring demise to Nidhogg, who was at the time residing within his body, as well, but the pair had other plans, and together they not only saved Estinien’s life but also finally brought an end to the Dragonsong War.

In a way he was grateful for them saving him, but on the other hand? Now Estinien stood in the living room of his own home, a small wooden house not far from Camp Dragonhead, but it left him with the question.. what was he supposed to do now? Estinien had thought that taking revenge on the dragon that had killed his family would leave him feeling satisfied, but after he learned and realized that Nidhogg had been driven by the same motivation as Estinien himself.. there was no satisfaction left in him, only a feeling of utter sadness, there was just so much loss of life, so much despair. And for what?

Estinien had nothing left to do, nothing left to give, nothing left to fight for. Why did Vali and Alphinaud have to save him?

The former dragoon gasped when a sudden wave of pain rushed through his body. It was similar to the pain he had felt when Nidhogg had first taken control of his body, but this was even worse. He stumbled forward and then fell to his knees, hands pressed to his head as if it could ease the shattering pain in his mind. What was happening to him? This couldn’t be Nidhogg’s doing, could it? The last thing on his mind before he passed out was his family.

~

Estinien didn’t know how much time had passed when he woke up, he only knew that his living room looked like a battlefield. The wooden chairs were broken, shards of broken plates were scattered on the ground and a few pillows looked as if they had been torn apart by wolves. What had happened? Slowly Estinien sat up and that was the moment he realized that there was something seriously wrong with him. His hands trembled as he looked upon them, but where one would expect to see his calloused fingers were now claws and upon seeing his naked skin he noticed it being sporadically covered in scales. What had happened to him?

But the most peculiar thing was the tail that now sprouted from his lower back and which was flicking back and forth now, indicating how agitated he actually was. His entire body was shaking as he started to grasp the reality: he had transformed into a monster, into a creature his former self would most likely hunt down and kill. He should have died with Nidhogg, he was not supposed to be here.

When he heard the door open the wave of pain was replaced by a sudden burst of panic, and despite usually standing at over two meters tall, he retreated to a corner of his destroyed home, cowering there with his tail wrapped around himself protectively.

He knew Ishgard was aiming for peace with the dragons, but Estinien also knew that there would always be people disagreeing and if one of the faithful Temple Knights would find him here..  but before the thought of fleeing could cross his mind he was surprised by a familiar voice calling his name. It was Vali. The man who saved him.

Slowly looking up from where he was cowering, Estinien growled, claws digging into the wooden floor of his home.

“Vali.. you are not supposed to be here.”

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Ya’ll thought Fandaniel was a psychotic little gay jester turning the world into an inescapable eldritch nightmare, get ready for unapologetic monsterfucker ‘but we can use the Void for good’ BLM coming through-

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Why did they retcon Black Mages willingly sacrificing an eye to use the empty socket as a materia slot, that is so fucking metal and completely on brand.

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Cast an Illegal Spell.

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We ❤️ short kings here

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QUESTIONS FOR MUNS.

1. how do you feel about reblog karma? 2. is it hard for you to write with characters you don’t know/don’t know well? 3. whose writing has impacted your writing style the most? (you can choose anyone! famous writer or not.) 4. which muse of yours is your all time favorite? if you stopped writing them: why? 5. is there a muse you really want to try? if yes: what’s stopping you? 6. is roleplaying the only writing-based hobby you have, or are there other things you like to write? 7. describe your favorite relationship dynamic. (can be any kind, platonic, romantic, familial, antagonistic, etc.) 8. do you expect your answered memes/asks to be turned into threads? regardless of answer, what’s your reasoning? 9. when you look at a new blog, what is it that makes you press the follow button? is it the muse, the aesthetics, the writing–? 10. what genre do you most enjoy, whether in roleplay, or fiction as a whole? (fantasy, period, superhero, etc.) 11. describe your ideal outcome/endgame for the muse you are currently writing. if you are a multimuse blog: do this for your current favorite muse, or the muse of the last reply you posted. 12. what roleplay trends do you remember from the year you started tumblr rp? how did you feel about those trends? 13. what themes/motifs do you hope other people notice most about your character? 14. which roleplay community has been your favorite to write in? 15. icons, or gifs? you can only pick one, and cannot say ‘neither.’

[mutasharid]

Maybe I’m a bad person for saying this as I revsit StB cutscenes for screencaps, but Meffrid’s death did not affect me.

What DID affect me was Kemp’s reaction. Mentioning how he had high hopes for Meffrid to lead the Resistance because that’s ‘what the people deserved, not some washed up old man’. That actually made me sad.

Stop telling me about how great characters are after they’re dead. SHOW ME WHILE THEY’RE STILL ALIVE. 

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And then he got his ass kicked.

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Oh, just how I HATE you Don’t you ever feel the burden of your own existence? Shove your spite to the other sidе You feel the price of hatred whеn you lose your pride

Isn’t it just lovely? When the window starts to cry You’ll never see me again The cold will never cease to be As colors fade to black and white In world where we have no rights I’ll carry the weight of your sins you did that night

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Just 5 more gold chocobo feathers, then I can get the Twintania mount...

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Kit was laughing at my slide casting earlier, illegal.

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Zenos starter pack

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Vali being completely unhinged is normal, but I’d like to think despite getting 75% of his hand chopped off by Zenos and basically curbstomped in a 1-on-1, he was absolutely frothing at the mouth, rage princess dropping his tiara furious the entire time and that’s why he became a target of obsession.

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I feel like I was born in the wrong time, I need a rich patron to lavish me with gold so I can make 7000 oil paintings of their religious self-insert so I may spend it all at the lowbrow theaters and host crazy parties that may or may not also be orgies.

[mutasharid]

The Caster Gear Roulette Wheel: Cool, Another Dress or Foolish Clownery