#ambiguous wol

[duskwightdancer]

Day 2: Horizon

Rated T | 515 words | Shadowbringers Spoilers | Exarch POV

The Exarch has failed in summoning the Warrior of Light three times.

The Exarch stared out across the horizon at the blinding light, trying to let go of the waves of emotions that kept crashing around in his mind like the water on the shore in front of him. He had walked far enough from the gates of the Crystarium that he felt safe lowering his hood to take in the blinding lights fully for the first time in quite a while.

It felt like some sort of punishment to himself, to gaze upon the light that he had failed yet again to do anything about. Three times now he had failed to summon the Warrior to the First now and each time had cost him, but the last one…

He held his hand up to the sky, watching the light reflect off the newly formed crystal of his hand, ignoring the pain as he wiggled his fingers. 

Nearly a hundred years had gone by without the crystal overtaking his hands, he supposed he should call himself lucky for getting this far. It didn’t feel lucky, though, not when the feeling had left his fingertips the moment he had summoned yet another Scion to the First, replaced only by excruciating pain. 

The Exarch let his hand fall back to his side, sighing softly. It didn’t matter, not when he still hadn’t brought them here. This was his punishment for failing once again. A hundred years of working to develop the method to bring them here and he still hadn’t got it right. 

He sighed deeply and looked back out at the skies. He had to keep trying, no matter the cost. This world, these people – his world, his people – the people of the Source, the Warrior needed saving. He would let the crystal take his entire body if it meant that they could all live. It would be worth the cost. 

One day his people would see the stars twinkle above them in a sea of darkness. Night would wash over this realm and he could only imagine the festivals and parties that would happen everywhere, from the Crystarium to Eulmore to the Greatwood… The people would rejoice and learn how to live life in their new world. One day night would return and they would all feel hope again.

One day he would see his own guiding star and that would be enough. 

He would accept his own fate, would accept that he would never see his people learn to live in their new world, if it meant he could see the star that charted his path once more – even if they never really saw him. 

It would be enough, he just had to have the summoning work this time… 

The Exarch sighed again and brought his hands up to pull his hood back over his head, letting it fall to cover his face. His people needed their calm, collected leader, so he let his mask fall back into place and tried to let a sense of calm wash over him. 

He would play his part. He would succeed, no matter the cost. He had to. 

[ladyramora]

Gosh that prompt about the supervillain nemesis makes me think of your villain!Haurchefant au… that was some good writing, I think I shall go reread all of it.

(Thank you so much, anon ❤️🥺 I really adore Villain Haurchefant. I hope you like this little snippet I wrote just for you and my other Villain Haurchefant lovers~ 💕)

.....

....

...

The next time you see Greystone, you shove him against the wall and pin him there with you body, inspiring the villain to burst into delightful giggling as he gazed at you in surprise with manic, adoring blue eyes. "What ever is the meaning of this, hero?" He asks breathlessly.

"You tell me," You say, not allowing yourself to be swayed or softened by his charms or plain affection for you. "There was rumors of a new threat. Another villain on the rise that was gunning for me. All of the sudden it's as if they were wiped off the face of the planet. No one has heard a peep from them, let alone spotted them. Last I heard, they had gotten involved with you. So tell me, Greystone, what did you do?"

The villain had been flushing steadily red under the intensity of your gaze, his breath quick and heated with your forceful demand. Hahh, things had been so sweet between you for so long, he had almost forgotten what it could be like to be this close! To feel your gaze upon him as a villain, as a threat. But not to you. No, never to you. He adored holding your attention so, causing just enough chaos and discord so that you might have to deal with him.

The dynamic between you worked quite well. A song and dance just for him and for his lovely hero. Yet there were always others trying to cut in. To shove him out and claim his rightful spot as his hero's partner. It simply could not be tolerated.

"They overstepped, my dear," Greystone replies with a simpering smile. "They wanted to hurt you. To truly harm you and yours. I simply did what needed to be done to protect you. To maintain the status quo."

His hero's expression pinches and twists. What an unpleasant expression on their lovely face. Were they angry with him?

"Forgive me for intervening, my dearest," Greystone murmurs with a contrite pout, reaching out to stroke his beloved hero's face. Only to make a hurt expression as they brush his hand off.

"What did you..." His hero shakes their head and steps back from him. Looking troubled. "Did you... kill them?"

Greystone steps forward as they retreat from him, ever chasing after them. "Of course not, my heart." He had not. What his dearest, most loyal knight might have done was another story entirely. Though he no longer held such titles, he was still her lord. Her loyalty had not wavered all this time. Ger always did her best to take care of him.

His hero is tense as he grasps their shoulders, gazing at him warily.

"I did not harm them. They were quite well when last I interacted with them," Greystone reassures them, kneading gently at the tense set of their delectable muscles. His hands flit up to cup their face, cradling their cheeks in his palms as he gazes at them wide, compelling blue eyes. His thumb sweeping over the pursed line of their lovely lips. "I only issued them a warning. That to seek to harm you would make them my enemy."

His hero seems reluctant, but does not fight him as he draws them into his embrace. "You had nothing to do with their disappearance?"

Greystone smiles. "Not a thing." It was true that he had no involvement in such matters. His most capable knight took them upon herself, not wanting her lord to sully his hands. His lionheart dealt with threats so neatly that he need not lift a finger. He really should reward her more.

"Now, where is that smile I so adore?" Greystone purrs, delighting in the hesitant quirk of his hero's lips in response. "Aha, there it is! How splendid, how sweet. I simply must have a taste!"

His hero gives something of a startled sound as Greystone tugs them into a fervent, hungry kiss. The villain purring in his throat approvingly as they melt into him.

The subject of other villains who may or may not have been a threat was quickly forgotten.

....

....

❤️

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[drk-brain]

Letters to the Lost

Mature | 4.7k words

G'raha Tia with background ambiguous wol x G'raha

CW Suicidal ideation

That it had taken so long for his composure to crack so violently was nothing short of a miracle. He could regain it now—he had to. But to find enough control to last him another ninety years or more...

Gods help the Source, for little hope lingered here.

A decade after arriving in the First, G'raha Tia finds the Warrior of Light's journal in the Ironworks' collection.

Excerpt:

For months, he could not bring himself to open the leather journal he’d tucked away on his bookshelf. He let it sit, removing and replacing hefty tomes around it as he studied, doing his best to commit to memory every detail they had about those final years before the calamity, all the while pointedly ignoring the journal he was sure would contain answers—once he felt he was ready to ask the right questions.

And then the crystal began to consume him, and he forgot nearly everything else. 

He’d given himself to the tower the moment he resolved to seal it while still inside, but binding himself to it in order to survive long enough to carry out his duty had been another struggle entirely. He knew it would claim him somehow—every fanciful tale he’d ever read warned him there was no immortality without a heavy cost—and still he had not been prepared. 

The growth began in the center of his chest and fanned outward, so slowly it might have been imperceptible on a scale any smaller than years. Sometimes, it was little more than a dull ache, rough edges of it causing tiny pinpricks of almost-pain as it pressed into his still-spoken flesh.

On worse nights, it was sharper than a blade, stung worse than an arrow, and he was glad for his vehemence in not allowing others to stay with him in the tower, if only to spare anyone else the dreadful way his screams echoed through the halls. 

But on some nights, the pain was not brought on by the crystal. Some nights the echoes were not of screams, but of sobs, of bitter wishes cried into the silence that this would all just be a dream from which he could yet wake, or angry pleas to gods who were not listening to take him, spirit him away from all this. 

>Link<

[dainesanddaffodils]

Cimorene: hey mysterious exarch man, what exactly are you planning on doing once we save the world (because it kinda sounds like you plan on dying once it’s safe)?

Crystal Exarch: I Am In Love With You

Cimorene: ……… that is so much not what I asked

[redwayfarers]

I'm sorry it had to be this way

[ievaxol]

And when the rain came down I made a vow out to the dark

Ysayle stretches across the bed with her chest still heaving, sweat beading on her skin. Eydis never tires of watching her; the spill of her hair like molten silver on the sheets, the elegant curve of her shoulder (complete with a bruise the shape of Eydis' teeth) and her frost-kissed lashes, sweeping over sharp cheekbones.

"Do you mourn me already, love?"

Eydis barks a sharp laugh, touching Ysayle's hip with trembling fingers. She charts a course between birthmarks and bitemarks, marvels at the thought that when Ysayle goes down in a blaze of fire she will bring a small piece of Eydis along with her.

Perhaps that was one kindness in seeing the future. The ability to say goodbye.

"Would you fault me for it?"

Ysayle simply smiles.

The sun is rising. Through broken blinds the first morning light finds its way inside, making the dust dance like little stars in the air. It's beautiful but Eydis thinks it might only be because she knows, she knows what is about to happen; she can't say she has ever particularly cared for mundane beauty before.

She reaches for a cigarette. What was once a rare luxury now looks more like an every-day crutch and she fumbles before she manages to light it with an incantation of her own making. She uses her finger to channel the fire-aspected aether and welcomes the burning almost as much as the first inhale of tobacco.

"Do you smoke?" Eydis asks and Ysayle hums, takes the cigarette between elegant fingers and sucks the smoke down before handing it back.

"Now I do."

The smoke rises in lazy curls, caressing the roof and filling the room with its sweet aroma. They trade the cigarette between them in silence, a back-and-forth of indirect kisses.

When the itch at the roof of Eydis' mouth becomes too much she drops the cigarette on the floor and chases the smoke on Ysayle's breath, sealing their lips together like it could change something.

In the back of her mind she half hopes there's a spark from the cigarette that makes the room catch fire. She wants them to find her and Ysayle wrapped together so tightly they cannot tell who's skeleton belongs to who; she wants their ribs to knock together and their fingers to intertwine in a way that no one can undo.

"Insatiable." Fondness overflowing, a warmth one might not expect from one dubbed 'Iceheart'.

"We have time," Eydis says. A lie, so utterly sweet on her tongue it feels like it might rot her mouth.

[paperhandsexe]

okay i shouldn't have reinstalled ffxiv cuz now i'm thinking of my azem/wol's whole fucked existence...

[crownonacat]

Prompt #27: Hail

When running away with deadly injuries will piss off your chocobo.

Spoilers: None

TW: None

They come across the stranger in Thanalan a ways out from Horizon going down the road having a very one-sided argument with a pissed off chocobo. And it is the chocobo that they hear first seeing that is the one doing most of the talking, or the kweh-ing in this case.

As their cart approaches they watch as the hooded figure reaches out a hand towards the chocobo only for it to squawk angrily, shuffling backwards a few steps before launching into another tirade coupled with pecks aimed at the stranger's hands that veer away almost purposefully from doing any actual harm. The person doesn't move their hands away, awkwardly continuing to hold them out which seems to piss the bird off more as it squawks louder in response.

Hal winces, looking at his own pair of chocobos that perk up at the sound before making a beeline for a potential distressed friend. Behind him he hears shuffling as both Anne and Kal peer through the curtains on his cart as they come to a stop. He's lucky he supposes that he currently doesn't have any patrons onboard before raising a hand, "Hail stranger! Having road trouble?"

Now closer he can make out the broadsword strapped to the strangers back underneath the cloak along with the knives in their belt. Even the chocobo seems to be carrying a full pack of supplies and a bow and quiver can be seen strapped against the bird on one side. The noon sun makes it difficult to make out the face underneath the black hood but the resigned smile that crosses their face is easy enough to see. And to feel sympathetic for, all things considering.

The stranger laughs, gesturing at the chocobo next to them and Hal sees the bird huff as they speak, their voice hoarse, "Got stuck more like. I didn't pack anything for the heat and I forgot how…hot Thanalan gets."

Hal looks at them doubtfully.

The chocobo next to the stranger glares. It raises a foot threateningly.

The stranger shrugs, "And I might've overestimated how healed up I was. It shouldn't be a problem."

"Kweh!"

"Black Brush Station isn't too far and from there its a hop to Ul'dah."

"Kweh."

"I won't die, Juni."

The silence the bird offers along with the look they give the traveler's mid-torso is withering.

Now mentioned, Hal can spot the way the stranger seems to favor their left side over their right and the way they seem to be moving as little as possible. Small gestures aside, they haven't done very much to move out of the way of the cart as well when his duo of hellions pulling had decided to come and investigate out of curiousity.

So Hal, hesitates, calculates how much it would cost him to take another passenger without fare and -

"They can come with us, can't they Pa?"

"We was heading to Ul'dah too!"

He'd forgotten about his other duo of hellions it seemed.

Kal and Anne peek out behind him, their eyes shining. Anne keeps whispering loudly about the sword and how heavy it had to be and how she could definitely lift it. Kal bets she can't and then its furious battle of whispering of 'cannot, can too, cannot' behind Hal's head.

"Ah, why not - you can ride with us if you'd like? Don't think you're heading anywhere in the next hour what with-", Hal nods towards the traveler's chocobo and the haughty kweh that leaves the bird all but cementing the stranger's decision.

"Oh I-", the stranger starts and then turns as "Juni" stomps on the ground, pointing with one of its wings at the cart.

Hal sees them sigh, hand going for a pocket at their waist, "Keep your gil. You're an adventurer aren't you?"

The stranger nods and Hal doesn't even get a chance to open his mouth.

"Can you tell us about 'em! Please, please?"

"Can I try to lift your sword? Is it heavy? Where'd you get it?"

Hal grins, "Welcome aboard."

[keicordelle]

Celestial Intersection

Fandom: FFXIV Rating: T Pairing: WoL & Urianger Word Count: 1.7k Tags: Unnamed Warrior of Light, Elezen Warrior of Light, Post 6.0 Endwalker, Stargazing, Platonic Romance, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Astrologian | AST, POV First Person

Summary: Tell me about the stars.

Beneath an endless vault of stars, Urianger and the Warrior share a quiet moment of tranquility, free for just one night from the chaos that shall surely beset them again on the morrow.

-

The air held the cool scent that preceded autumn, before summer had quite given up its firm grasp on the realm and only the sweet winds portended the coming hibernation. Crickets sang their merry songs and bats flitted overhead in search of their next meal, just now rousing from their diurnal slumber into the depths of the twilight.

"Pray forgive my tardiness." Urianger's voice made me turn, his the soft footsteps that had provided a beat to the insects soprano. He smiled at me, a private expression that smoothed tranquility over my breast as easily as the evening air and the peaceful surrounds. A blanket draped over one of his arms, the soft woolen one he kept at the end of his bed. "Shall we be on our way?"

I accepted the arm he extended me, sliding my hand into the crook of his elbow. His skin was warm, still bearing the lingering heat of the Rising Stones's hearth. The touch of my chilled fingers raised gooseflesh up his arms, but when I made to lift my hand, his arm tightened around my digits. "The frigidity of thy fingers is naught compared to the warmth of thy touch."

Smile lifting my lips, I left my hand where it was and we walked together through the calm Mor Dhonan night as the last of the daylight faded. The moon shone brightly overhead, providing more than enough light to see, and our feet were sure over the uneven, rocky ground as we climbed to the edge of a cliff overlooking Lake Silvertear.

Giving his bicep a gentle squeeze, I withdrew my hand from his arm only to extend it in offer to help spread the blanket. Instead, he wrapped it neatly around our shoulders, enveloping me in the scent of him which filled every thread of the wool. I clutched the well-worn softness to me, and he pinned the other side against his own chest. "'Twould not do to catch cold," he offered by way of explanation. At his gesture, we sat, working together to ensure our shroud did not slip from our shoulders.

-

Read the rest on Ao3!

[estinininininen]

FFXIV fans this is your daily reminder that if Estinien has even a tiny fraction of Nidhogg's memories he knows a hell of a lot more than he's letting on.

Nidhogg remembers at least three Umbral Calamities, and probably four or five. Safe to assume he defended Coerthas from Allag, and that he heard Vrtra looking for Azdaja and the primal-ification of Bahamut through dragon song. The DRG 80 quest states Nidhogg considered himself guardian of the star after Midgardsormr. At his prime, Nidhogg may have even known or been trying to learn his father's abilities - the changing form, the crystals, possibly even the ability to speak with Hydaelyn. Theory time: Hydaelyn may have even rejected him for being a dragon supremacist.

Estinien's shortcomings (if you don't have another silly explanation for them) have to do with mortal knowledge and interactions, like niceties, coin, and bluffing immigration officers. He asks for the Scions to explains things because they have discovered stuff nobody knew before this, or they were using vocabulary he doesn't know.

In Shadowbringers the idea of Ascians doesn't phase him, but the different shards and time travel nonsense throw him for a bit of a loop, coincidentally things Nidhogg wouldn't know. He is very tense at the idea of the WOL seeing his memories, and leaves immediately, but after telling you he shares Nidhogg's memories in 5.5 he chills out and hangs around more. Like he saw the writing on the wall about joining the Scions and covered his own ass in case of an Echo vision.

In Endwalker the reason I think he said "At least I will not pretend to understand this talk of ancient primals or the Final Days" and the like is because he has to constantly sort out if what Nidhogg knew was correct. He is remarkably chill staring up at Hydaelyn like "ya bitch let's go let's fight God." What Hydaelyn said to Estinien about hate becoming love is ambiguous enough it could also apply to Nidhogg.

And you are still the only person he has directly told he shares some memories with Nidhogg. He is deliberately not sharing this with people. He doesn't want to be Nidhogg. Most of the information is pointless outside of Coerthas in the 7th astral era. He makes an exception when he is the only one who knows something important - there's a Great Wyrm behind the curtain, how to motivate depressed dragons, the Eyes of Nidhogg are active again better find them, Omega? wait the thing that chased Midgardsormr? if not me better make sure someone handles it, oh shit Zenos is standing back up that's not Zenos anymore-

Then he just wants to have a drink and some dried squid and chill out. Not get interrogated about past kingdoms, or have his brain and eyes poked at when he dies ( . . . if he's even mortal anymore.)

[galactickohipot]

Hmm so I've seen a lot of ppl say there's no stakes in FFXIV anymore because the WoL is too strong anyway. Like sure, making the WoL a godslayer isn't making things easy, but that's not truly where the issue is imo. Spoilers for DT's msq!!!

The main problem to me, is that the writers now consider that a victory through fighiting is a victory in the story. It kinda boggles my mind that there aren't negative repercutions for using violence anymore... It's especially true in DT: when you fight it's always the right thing to do and all fights have a positive influence on the story. It's pretty much "right is might and might is right" all around. The characters never doubts their fight is a righteous one for a second, and we are never given an ambiguous win either. Wuk Lamat is only able to influence the story because she becomes strong and she becomes strong because she is right and good. It is ironic for a character that is so focused on peace and love. Yet the story will still consistantly reward the characters for crushing their opponents. Storywise it doesn't make sense. It only cheapens your victories, so of course you would need to amp up the stakes. (also please note: these issues were already present when Ishikawa was at the helm, but there were other things to balance it out in ShB though.)

In contrast, in ARR and HW, there usually was a downside to the WoL's victory. It wasn't the entire story!

For example, a part I particularly like in 3.0 is the first time you slay Nidhogg. Not only is this done by Estinien after you've weakened the dragon; but it actually feels like a defeat. The entire game up to this point had your group try to mend the relationship between ishgardians and dragons. Estinien warms up to your group and Ysayle, and you can feel he is slowly begining to hope for lasting peace. However, with Hraesvelgr's revelations, Ysayle's dellusions are exposed and all the progress made towards reconcilliation is reduced to nothing. Worse, Estinien's violent and vengeful ways are proven to be the only solution. Truly, a terrible setback for the characters, and it results in an empty victory over Nidhogg. Sure you beat the baddie, but it's devastating for Alphinaud and Ysayle. It even comes back to bite Estinien in the butt when he gets possessed. There was more to the story than just finally beating a very strong foe, and it is made apparent at that moment. Even though the wol won every fight, it didn't mean that the main characters would be victorious. It could either be a diplomatic defeat, your beliefs could be challenged, or one of your allies could die. Unforeseen consequences were right around the corner. Plus, your character is only one person. Things could still happen outside of their reach, like at the end of ARR. Regardless of your WoL's strength, there are many ways you can create tension for a story!

In earlier expacs, there used to be a feeling that your battles wouldn't necessarily win the war. No need for a world ending threat then, to have stakes.

[drk-brain]

Nothing so noble

General | 3k words

G'raha Tia & Edmont Fortemps, background ambiguous wol x G'raha

“History is but words. Knowledge is a tool. It is how you use it which determines its value.”

While in Ishgard, G'raha Tia seizes an opportunity to speak to Lord Edmont about his memoir.

Excerpt:

“There was a time,” he says, then coughs lest he choke on the way his throat tightens, “that I could have recited much of this memoir aloud, word for word, should you have asked. And though there is no need for it now, I am sure for much of it I still could.”

A knowing silence falls as he turns each page, runs his fingers along smooth parchment punctuated only by tiny divots where the pen scratched just ever so slightly too deep. 

As promised, on each page are familiar words, words carved into his memory as surely as they are inked upon the paper, and he does not know how long he spends reading them and rereading them and examining the swirling mix of soul-deep despair and relief twining around his chest as he remembers...

He remembers how a passage concerning the Warrior’s journey through unfamiliar terrain to seek out Hraesvelgr had helped to placate his terror as he surveyed the new lands around him, that light-washed amethyst woodland. 

He remembers that a few paragraphs on Ser Aymeric’s insistence on being the one to take on the responsibility of confronting his father had given him the strength to once again don the Exarch’s hood and step out into the endless day to lead an entire people. 

He remembers a tear-stained eulogy, spots of water staining the exact same place on the page he knew, and how it had brought him comfort as death came for those around him. At first, they fell to the sin eaters. Then, they fell to age. And as death refused to claim him, one by one he eulogized them, words carefully extracted from this one to carry his voice, unwavering, to those who mourned. 

It is only when Edmont stands and sets about making another cup of tea that G’raha shakes himself from his focus and softly closes the book. 

“Forgive me, my lord,” he says. “I have ever been one to lose track of time while reading.”

>Link<

[haunted-xander]

Finished the 6.55 MSQ so here's my (very positive) thoughts:

‌Love love LOVE Wuk Lamat she's so fun and her dynamic with Erenville is hilarious. Very excited to see more of her in Dawntrail.

‌Krile is already getting some nice scenes and I'm very happy she's finally gonna get the spotlight in dt. My girls been side-lined for 4 expacs it's about damn time she gets to shine.

‌The inventor of Pictomancy is literally Relm. Like they name drop her. Obv not the same Relm as in VI but still! Relm is real! And she was an Archon! tbh them naming an important character related to this type of magic after her isn't surprising- I just expected it to be something in the job quests rather than the MSQ.

‌Zero made super-spicy dishes popular in Thavnair lol. Wuk Lamat trying to toughen it out was hilarious. God I love her.

‌Wuk Lamat & Erenville being childhood friends was not something I expected! Very fun.

‌The catboy from the dawntrail promotional artwork is probably Wuk Lamat's brother, Koana(Was that his name? tbh I forgot. But she has a Miqo brother that's what's important). He looks smart, and it's possible he's gonna be another candidate claiming for the throne.

‌Based on the artwork, I had figured our main group was gonna be WoL, Krile, Thancred and Urianger, as they are the only Scions featured, but based on the quest it'll probably be Wol, Krile, Alphinaud and Alisaie. G'raha is allegedly staying behind, but since he's shown in Tural in the trailer I think he'll find an excuse to come along anyway lol.

‌Thancred and Urianger are going to be competing against us, which will be interesting. I think it'll be fun to see some of the Scions take on a more rival-y role, if only for a bit. It looks like they were petitioned by someone else participating in the Rite of Succession, so maybe they're working for Miqo boy? They're on his side of the artwork after all 🤔

‌(Also I think the writers know how popular those two have gotten together lol they're like making it a point to have them with each other at all times)

‌Estinien is going to Tural just for the hell of it which I think is hilariously in character. Literally going there at the same time as us purely by coincidence. He really can't escape us can he.

‌Y'shtola is neither seen nor heard of which tbh I think is fair given how much screentime and focus she got during the whole Zero arc. I do wonder why she's going to Tural tho, she's in the trailer too so I'm certain she will be there.

‌(Also, since G'raha, Estinien and Y'shtola aren't aligned with any particular side as of now, I think they'll be a neutral third party in the Succession rivalries going on. That, or they'll end up siding with the 3rd sibling that isn't the Obvious Villain (based on Wuk Lamat and Erenville's accounts) somehow. Will be fun to see in any case.)

‌The little memory dialogue from Emet was nice :) just a reminder of the adventures yet to be had. Also he's finally in the unending codex which I think is nice (ngl I kinda forgot about the codex until he got added to it)

ALSO I almost forgot to include it BUT we have a nice heart-to-heart scene with G'raha alone on a bridge and if the writers weren't COWARDS (and/or worried about romance ambiguity, at least for those relating to the WoL) he could've proposed to us then and there. You know he wants you. Do not hold him back writers let him do what he wants. (I'd have said yes ofc)

‌Backpack :)

[nights-at-crystarium]

Fragments - episodes 19-22 author notes

You can find similar breakdown posts on older episodes in my pinned!

Obligatory ShB spoiler warning.

First off, the two panels that took a silly amount of time just because I wanted to reflect Vivi’s impressions on the city.

Episodes 18, 19, 20 open up with Vivi being concerned with the most pressing matters:

Can’t fight if you ain’t pretty (or got just 1-2 outfits to be pretty in, that won’t do either)

I still really like the panel above, especially their pose. Episodes 19-22 show how they gradually get rid of physical boundaries. They didn’t even touch back when they first met (episode 15).

Vivi’s casual about physical affection with friends, just one of his core things.

Of course Vivi would trust and choose the company of a pixie, a supernatural being, over a (presumably) human who only reinforces Vivi’s worst opinions on humanity at that point in time, concealing himself and swimming in secrets. Get rekt nerd.

At least Vivi isn’t openly hostile, just.. Dismissive? I saw some other WoLs who outright hate Exarch for abducting the Scions and almost getting themselves, the WoL, killed at Ghimlyt Dark. Vivi, however, just wants to be left alone.

Tfw the love of your life is being stolen by your dear friend. Or vice versa? Or both at the same time? Anyway, Vivi and Feo Ul form a new cool kids' club and Exarch isn't invited.

Can't relax in your favorite secluded spot for a godsdamned moment without some pesky dragoon randomly popping out of nowhere.

While I hc Exarch being able to sense living presence around the Tower, imagine doing that 24/7 for every person. I like to think that he learned to filter it out, turn off/on at will. And while he's in a public place, with his glamour up, he doesn't need to upkeep the "radar", he's just chilling and is possibly lost in thoughts, and that's why Vivi startles him.

This scene bears more symbolic meaning than plot importance. And, uh, some foreshadowing? Forelighting? x'D While Vivi doesn’t fall (heh) for his savior, he’ll reflect upon this at a later time.

Vivi’s normally careful and stately. Yes he’s an elf but he do be carryin’ himself like a cat. There’s a lot of control and assertion behind his trademark nonchalant posture. So, NORMALLY, this wouldn’t happen. Maybe he got distracted by the shiny? And where’s Feo Ul?

Exarch, however, the man that chokes on air unprompted, in a moment like this acts before he could think. As some people correctly noted, the old man’s QUICK. The “screentime” stretches out as Vivi’s life almost begins flashing before his eyes, while for Exarch it's gotta be a mere second or two.

I’m extra proud of the colorwork here. As if blood’s gone from Vivi’s face, as if his entire body went cold, but life slowly returns to him, starting with that hand. You bet this’s brimming with subtext.

Exarch uses his left hand over the right, for better friction and probably because he doesn’t like the attention to his right hand.

I like that this panel’s caused confusion, it worked as intended :9 An all too vague dark joke that almost cost Vivi his life. In his head it went like “yeah anyone can fly once, when they’re about to go splat”, but he wasn’t only preoccupied with the jumps, but also didn’t KNOW yet that he HAS TO speak with a fae like almost with a child, or a lawyer. Simplest terms. No ambiguity. EVER. They’ll misinterpret you unwittingly, or on purpose.

And so they did. Or didn’t? Feo Ul’s spent a long time offscreen, but whether they chose not to help, or even gave Vivi a little push, will forever stay a mystery because why not.

Lesson learned.. On both sides.. Hopefully. Also, fret not, Exarch WILL say fuck one day, one day~

Vivi's lucky. Incredibly so. He's aware of it, doesn't see it as anything special, like you don't see anything special in being able to read this. Perhaps jumping up an unknown structure while being accompanied by an exceedingly curious and mischievous creature is risky even for his kind, but Vivi's so used to getting away with so many things that he doesn't stop to consider it for the tiniest moment.

The first genuine exchange of smiles.

Silver lining: now they have better chances at getting along and returning to that world-saving duty.

Update from January 2024: I came back here to tell you something that took me so long to realize about episode 20′s description:

And all he saw was the Light, and then he knew that Death wore white in this world.

I randomly popped off with this prose, which on itself is a cool thing, but now I realize the extra meanings it could take on. Thinking about 5.x and Elidibus has me feeling unwell in the best way. THAT VIVI ALSO WEARS WHITE HERE IS UH. A coincidence. But it also kinda works as the Warrior of Darkness becomes somewhat of a local Reaper in the First, and then, well, then we have that Light corruption arc :3c

Vivi's calm and tender enough for a pixie to trust him with their wings.

Feo Ul ate and drank several times their size, and all that hero talk.. Ugh. Time for a nap.

Drawing this made me yawn at least 3 times. You’re not immune either.

He’s activating his scanners :>

Vivi's definition of nice is "not nagging, begging or preaching, and using bare facts and logic to convince the hero to do the hero thing".

Literally the next page if you’re reading in order :’> Riiiiiiiiight. That hero thing.

We don’t question whether Vivi invited his loveliest branch, or if they invited themselves. The fact is, they’re there and Vivi’s totally cool with it.

Exarch must be watching. And probably foaming at mouth as Feo Ul keeps leading in the race for Vivi’s heart. They don’t only earn the hero’s trust, but get in his bed and, gasp, brush his hair.

Vivi's getting comfy in his role somewhere between a disney princess and Feo Ul’s pet.

A writing-related tangent incoming, but, since you’re here, I assume you’re already somewhat interested in this kinda stuff.

So, there’s the script, the plain text that waits to get illustrated. The screenplay, if you will. I don’t just sit down and draw enough random things to fill a few pages, I approach this as an actual cohesive serialized story.

I changed a good half of this episode when I began storyboarding it. In the initial script from some months ago, Vivi said "I slept so well". Something about this didn't sit right with me. It’s the most basic mistake of telling instead of showing. I asked myself, would he, a person who takes good sleep and dreams for granted, say that out loud? Nah. I removed that bit, and drew him stretching deliciously. He also asked Feo Ul if they guarded his dreams, they smiled vaguely but warmly just like in the finalized version, but then Vivi simply muttered "I could get used to this" and gave them headpats. I decided to elevate this scene by adding this tiny rollercoaster, which brought Feo Ul's greyness to the forefront, and thickly hinted that Vivi doesn't only sleep well, but has nice dreams that he probably starts cherishing after this.

To be fair, this isn’t super important for the main plot, I just wanted to highlight the difference between Vivi and Exarch, the latter being in a hate-hate relationship with sleep. Vivi’s affinity with dreams is a door I like to keep open for the possible future story (talking post-EW events).

Now you know this’s the face they make before going apeshit.

Imagine if this prank didn't exist and instead Vivi simply said "I slept so well, this's so important to me". I’m proud of the writing muscle I’m growing on the fly ;w;

Ardbert's chance to act and feel normal, thwarted in the next few seconds.

I'm so glad that people are picking up on this!! “Hey man” is Vivi’s way of providing whatever comfort he could. An illusion of normalcy. He’s emotionally intelligent when it matters.

..But he should’ve also considered that Feo Ul can and will ruin the vibe :’>

Another screenwriting thing: this episode lacks an establishing shot, i.e. the obligatory zoomed out view on everyone in the room, but I think this’s a rare case of “less is more”. Along with the light vs shadow, it reinforces the feeling of separation. Vivi and Feo Ul are shown together, interacting, doing cute stuff, while Ardbert’s alone. Sorry not sorry for the hurty :’>

This’s all I’ve got for now. Thanks for reading and paying so much attention! People start to notice and analyze the things I’m weaving in, and it’s the best kinda interaction I as a creator could wish for.

[myreia]

Sketches of Times Lost

Day 19: Taken

aureia sits with thancred in dawn's respite. thancred x wol, pre-relationship. mentions of past aymeric x wol. set during stormblood patches. written for ffxivwrite2024. rating: teen 1219 words ao3 link

Dust motes dance in the air, caught in a spiral of rose-pink light that heralds the coming dawn.

Aureia watches them blankly, head tilted to the side, fingers twisted in her lap. Her lips are dry, her limbs like lead, her eyes puffy and aching as if she has been punched in the face. Exhaustion fuzzes on the edges of her mind, and yet she cannot bring herself to sleep. She floats in ambiguity, neither here nor there, barely cognizant of what is going on around her save for the man slumbering at her side.

But he isn’t slumbering. Thancred may look like he is asleep, but he isn’t. His body lies still on the bed, still and lifeless, only a hint of breath as something within him clings to life. She has seen comatose patients before. This is nothing like that. This is nothing she has seen before.

He is simply… gone.

Where are you now, Thancred? Where did you go?  

She lowers her eyes, her gaze sweeping across his deathly still face. In the weeks since his collapse, his hair has grown, a patchy beard spreading across his cheeks. A sign of the passing time, how the seconds and hours and weeks march on, beating to the sound of an inevitable drum.

The situation has been explained to her ad nauseum. Kan-E-Senna assures her that his heart is strong, his body compensating for his stolen soul. He is not in immediate danger. He isn’t dying.

She doesn’t know if that makes it worse. Dying, she can handle. Dying, she knows. She has held the hands of more friends than she can count as they succumbed to injuries and slipped into the beyond. But this? He’s gone, vanished, his consciousness pulled elsewhere, wherever that may be. She can sit by him all she wants, and he will never know. Even the dying have some sense of those who remain at their sides. He does not. Cannot. He—

A buzz in her ear. Her linkpearl activates, its hum reverberating uncomfortably through her skull. She grimaces and taps it, resisting the urge to pull the whole damn thing from her ear and chuck it across the room. Aymeric will be on the other end. She hasn’t spoken to him since the last Alliance meeting.

Her gut twists and she shoves all thought of him from her mind.

Exhaling a shaky breath, she slips from her chair and folds her legs beneath her, pressing her back against Thancred’s bed. For all she knows, he could be in danger. Or he could be lost. Or he could be fine. But it is the uncertainty of it that drives her mad. She could imagine a hundred scenarios, a hundred possibilities, and each one could be false. Or they could be true. All she knows is that he is not here.

He was taken from her.  

It’s unfair, the way these circumstances played out. It was only a month ago that they were sitting on a rooftop in Ala Mhigo, clear of mind and sound of heart. She was shaken, on edge, pushed to her fucking limit by the Alliances maneuvers, the Garlean threat, and her brother’s manipulations. She should have expected it. He was always a loose end left uncut. It was only a matter of time before he came for her. But she broke the day that Kallias showed his face in the streets and unearthed every secret she had buried deep. The precious Warrior of Light, a former Garlean operative hiding in plain sight. Not that the word former meant anything.  

The news sent shockwaves through the Alliance, the Resistance, the Eorzean city-states. Even the Scions of the Seventh Dawn couldn’t look her in the face. Well… not all of them.

Thancred could.

To say they have had a difficult relationship would be an understatement. A friendship shattered, whatever connection they had battered and bruised and broken beyond repair. They know each other too well. They know how to hurt. And the hurts are still there, years of harsh words spoken and accusations made. And yet at her lowest point, when he had ever reason to shun her and turn his back on her forever, he was the one there.

Not Aymeric, who once said he loved her. Not Urianger, who she once considered a brother. Not Alisaie, who was her dearest friend.

It was Thancred who made the choice to stand at her side when everyone else fled. No questions. No explanations. Simply a choice made unconditionally because he…

Well.

“You didn’t have to do that. You have every reason not to trust me after what I’ve done.”  

“We all have secrets, Aureia. We have all done things we are ashamed of. I know I certainly have. Why should I hold that against you when I know that is not who you are?”  

“But—”  

“I do not care who you once were. I care who you are now. And that is the end of it.”  

Tears sting in her eyes. She draws her knees into her chest and blinks them back furiously. The Warrior of Light does not cry. The Warrior of Light is a beacon of hope. The Warrior of Light is heroic, exceptional, unburdened by the weight of ordinary troubles. Not that this is an ordinary trouble of any kind, but…

“Aureia?”

She squeezes her eyes shut, clearing her mind, and opens them.

Tataru stands before her in a pool of light, her pink outfit brighter than usual in the morning sun. Her hand is pressed against her mouth, her worried gaze passing from Aureia to Thancred and back again. “I’m so sorry to interrupt,” she says quickly, stumbling over her words. “I thought… well, I wondered… I can take over, if you like. If it would help. You’ve spent the whole night here. I think you could use some rest.”

Aureia says nothing.

“I’ve… drawn a bath for you,” Tataru continues cautiously. “Well. Not drawn, exactly, but prepared. It’s ready in the suite upstairs, if you want it. I added some flowers and some bubbles. Silly, I know, but—”

Aureia smiles quietly. “Thank you,” she says.

Tataru nods. “It’s going to be all right, you know.” She looks down, twisting the hem of her tunic. “I’m certain of that.”

The linkpearl hums again. Aureia flinches, cupping her ear with her hand, still unable to bring herself to take it out. Would it be the right thing or the wrong thing? She doesn’t know. She doesn’t even know if she can look Aymeric in the face after everything she’s done, let alone talk to him.

A shadow passes in front of her and warm hands wrap around hers.

“I mean it,” Tataru says. “Rest. Please. He would want you to. In fact, I believe he would be quite angry if you didn’t.”

“…he would, wouldn’t he.”

“Always so concerned about everyone else, but not himself. Not unlike someone else I know.”

Aureia raises her head, meeting her eyes.

Tataru smiles. “I’ll tell you if anything changes,” she says. “I promise.”

Aureia nods. With a heavy weight in her heart, she slowly unfurls and gets to her feet, forcing herself to walk away from his bed. She can’t look back.

If she does, she will never leave.

[candycryptids]

hewwooo tuesday here's a silly little question for you since your "check it out, frogs!!" blog title always delights me: how do each of your characters feel about frogs? 👀

I *love* Frogs, but how do the blorbeans feel about em...? Well... I had to really think about it TTuTT BUT! Chuu favors mechanical creatures over flesh 'n blood ones, and while her getting to the First is ambiguous and mysterious (being a non-wol, I just try not to think about it too much) She DOES... love the Dwarven Mecha frogs. And. The biggest frog of them all... Formi.... <3 …. So she doesn’t care for frogs much. She has sent Tuesday out frog catching for alchemical ingredients though….

Colette... Doesn't have any feelings this way or that about frogs, really. They're small, they're kinda slimey? but mostly they're just, very small. Except Gigantoads, I suppose, but those are a toad, and decidedly less slimey, by virture of being a toad. The ambivalence remains though! They're not that tricky to fight so long as you know how to wriggle out of their tongue grasp. (I did... take some frog-related Colette pictures tho >:3 I'm just gonna, post em a bit later, since the theme got away from me) Gigantoads make for a decent enough meal so long as you prep the meat right :T the legs are the most edible part yk.

Ishi is much more fond of Poro Roggo's, Matoya's froggy familiars. They're wearing LITTLE HATS ! They wave little canes! They're quite frankly adorable and they have little croaking voices. What's not to enjoy? (And also, there's something really nice about being out in the marshes of Mor Dhona and finding a little frog instead of a Morbol ready to stink bomb you, HAH)

Tuesday shivers when he thinks about frogs (knows the difference between a frog and a toad, still pictures a Gigantoad first, and does not much love being yanked mid-cast from his Ley lines into body slamming range.) Finds just a regular little frog endearing and will get down in the mud and muck to look at it though. Is especially fascinated by frogs that stick to things like leaves and trees and their camouflages uwu He’s the one who likely knows the most about frogs, and would gladly tell you more about them. Probably compares information with Erenville, if they ever meet up in non-life-threatening-situations.

Tangy finds them fun ! If she’s on a walk or a run or an errand and it’s drizzly and she sees a little frog hop across the pathway there’s literally 0 inhibitions in her body that stop her from also hopping or skipping for at least a minute (still on her way, but a frogs leap is so charming. They’re like tiny dragoons! She points this similarity out to Estinien once. Krile laughs, Estinien looks constipated- you know the face.) She also has a weird compulsion to put them into her mouth, though, so if she catches one….. make sure it’s not poisonous. She doesn’t even plan to eat it! They just look like they would fit perfectly in her kitty jaws (she is sometimes correct).

Mochiie had to get used to frog song when he moved to Gridania. The rivers and lakes and greenery abounding let the little critters thrive in a way they don’t particularly on the Steppe. …. He comes around to finding it relaxing and feels uneasy when he doesn’t hear them anymore lmfao. In non-WoL au’s, probably sometimes tasks adventurer’s with catching frogs for alchemical ingredients OR to bring back to the pond he’s been carefully maintaining to encourage the little beepers to live in it. (Btw, his favorite frog singers are the Pobblebonk or Banjo Frog [YT Link], and the Pacific Chorus Frog [YT Link] 🥰)

Levraut…. I’m still not sure. 🤔 I think he’d like them, but he wouldn’t feel strongly about them. He WOULD eat them though. As would Colette and Mochi… I mentioned Tangy liked to stick them in her mouth but actually eating them seems like a waste, since she’s so big and they’re so small. Like eating a blueberry. I can say his favorite frogs would be the Blue Jeans Poison Frog, for their striking jackets of warning colors, and the desert rain frog, whose perfect spherical nature and grumpy face is endearing.