#shb bad ending au

[akirakirxaa]

FFXIVWrite Prompt 18: Fish Out Of Water

Rating: T

Word Count: 635

Warnings: None

Summary: Akira made a bargain with Emet-Selch that ended with her joining the Ascians. But despite the fact that no one has made her feel unwelcome, in the hours leading up to her official induction she still feels as if she doesn't belong. [Ascian WoL AU, EmetWoL but only a little]

Master Post

The dark realm where the Ascians made their home was…comfortable. The darkness was ever present in the air, weighing heavy over everything like a blanket. Akira wandered the halls of endless doors, peeking in a few as she passed. Some refused to open; she assumed those must belong to individuals, their own little sanctuaries. Some opened to show libraries, offices, training halls, just about anything one could need. After a while, the realization settled in that the doors were magically repeating. Satisfied that there was nothing more to see, or at least not while she still was just a ‘guest’ anyway, Akira let her mind wander as she walked the halls aimlessly, just needing to move.

Regardless, Akira still didn’t feel like she belonged here. Every breath said this wasn’t where she was meant to be. No matter how comfortable. No matter how polite the other Ascians had been. No matter that the animosity between her and Emet-Selch had softened into something…else. She felt like a fish pulled from water and commanded to breathe and walk. And, against all odds, she did. She breathed. She walked. But it was all wrong.

“Well, Hero,” she heard a familiar voice from just behind her. “It’s just about time.”

“This is wrong,” she mumbled, knowing it would make no difference. “I don’t belong here.” But she had made a deal. She wouldn’t go back on it, and he knew that. Emet-Selch moved closer and pulled her against him, draping himself over her in an overly friendly manner she’d long since adjusted to. She didn’t understand it, but his proximity soothed a part of her soul she didn’t recognize.

“That’s just your Mother still hanging on. She never was a graceful loser.” He meant it to be soothing, but it only turned her stomach over. Why had Hydaelyn so thoroughly abandoned her? Hadn’t fought for her at all? Akira was constantly listening, hoping to hear what she should do next, but only silence greeted her, over and over again.

“I don’t know about that,” Akira shrank into herself, shoulders hunching up. He turned her to face him, taking her face in between his clawed hands; ceremonial, he’d called them, when she commented that the robes she’d seen Ascians wear looked so different from the one they had provided her.

“You’ll see,” he insisted. “Once you have your memories and your title, you’ll see you belong as much as any of us.”

Not her memories, of course. Akira knew he was referring to who she used to be. The person he seemed so intent on getting back. And despite the constant assurances that she would still be herself, just more, she couldn’t help but fear that this was an even more permanent end than if she’d just allowed herself to die.

She supposed she would find out shortly. She tried to call on the courage that had served her so well against Primals and Lightwardens alike, but in this unfamiliar realm and minus her usual abilities, she felt exposed. Vulnerable. No matter how much she was told that she would be far stronger than she’d been before. She rested a hand over one of his, and fought against the fear clawing its way up her throat. Emet-Selch pulled her against his chest, holding her close like she was something precious. Something she couldn’t understand, as she’d been repeatedly told.

“Come now, Hero,” he rumbled lowly. “You’ve gone through far worse than this. It’ll be no worse than one of those Echo visions of yours.”

She nodded — it was easier than arguing and there was no changing it now — and let him lead her away, one hand on her lower back. She wasn’t sure if it was out of fondness or to make sure she didn’t try to run.

[rookdaw]

FAERIE KING

When all doesn’t go as planned, Osseus takes up Feo Ul’s offer and accepts the crown and scepter of the fae folk. They were never seen again by mortal eyes.

For @hotflamingmess

[hazelkjt]

Forgiven Burdens

[bogwitch-art]

"They were adventurers like us once... until the bastard turned and killed the warrior of darkness..."

the fae king and his lover monster

[fourfoldfires]

florian belanger - gothic literature edition (bold what applies to your character) tagged by @nabaath-areng, tyty! 🖤

strange case of dr. jekyll and mr. hyde

cobblestone streets / lamps shining out of the fog / the warmth of a fireplace / unopened bottles of wine / the tension between what things seem to be and what they truly are / the heady thrill of freedom / panic of losing control / blood on the pavement / guilty vices / top hats and walking sticks / self-destruction / old documents tucked away in safes.

frankenstein, or the modern prometheus

rain hitting a windowpane / candles burning low / mountain ranges with white, snowy tops / frenzied obsession / a cemetery at dusk / slaughterhouses / all-consuming thirst for revenge / compassion turned to bitterness and hatred / a sense of duty weighing on your shoulders / inescapable guilt / the frozen wastes of the arctic circle / the feeling of someone breathing down your neck / lightning sparking through the sky.

the picture of dorian gray

erotic longing / paint on a palette / golden curls and rosy cheeks / the desperation to cling to youth / bees lazily drifting through the grass / hedonism / the blackness of a soul / a dusty attic / hiding secrets / blood pooling on the floorboards / gut-wrenching jealousy / a dimly-lit stage / temptation into corruption.

the private memoirs and confessions of a justified sinner

cliffs rising up into the clouds / someone ambiguously supernatural always lurking / edinburgh's winding streets / religious zealotry / careful manipulation / family rivalry / a bible written in an indistinguishable language / a face that's always changing and shifting / scottish lairds / something demonic masquerading as something pure.

dracula

letters and diaries / suitors courting a lady / castles nestled deep within forests and mountains / terror of the unknown / the howling of wolves / aristocrats from olden times / a consuming hunger / the dead rising / horses' hooves thundering along a path / blood staining the snow / crucifixes warding off evil.

wuthering heights

fog over the moors / embracing one who is already dead / a cycle of abuse / vicious, snarling dogs / a house left to ruin / a thorn among the roses / toxic love / ghosts / the howling wind / flowers that have died and begun to rot / wasting away / a voice you can't identify.

tagging: uhhh gosh i don't know who's done this so - anyone who wants to! consider yourself tagged. yes that means you. this is a threat. 🖤

[minarcana]

thinking about my wol urianger au while i was at work and making myself sad

[feralkwe]

Ask and ye shall recieve- anyway, I'm thinking these might be fun prompts for you! Especially the "How am I supposed to sleep next to ypu knowing what you did?" Ish one

https://www.tumblr.com/forbodium/751308726972104704/the-person-watching-their-partner-become-a-villain?source=share

(On phone, so I'm approximating that prompt)

“how do you expect me to sleep next to you at night knowing what you did?”

oh you. oh you.

i had to do some bending to make this work. i'm not precisely sure that time exists for this to play out as it does here. also, i had to put kit in a pretty bad place at this point of shb. not a far leap, but definitely a darker, most self-loathing one. i'm also not sure this question she asks would ever be a consideration, but that's the beauty of an au, you can do almost anything if you try hard enough.

under a cut because... i suppose some of it is dodgy, considering their respective mental states and the fact that this is ardbert's stolen body. nothing is nsfw, but it's implied.

if you want more context, i did write an au fic i reference.

~*~

Kit stared across the room, bedding pulled around her. The chill of the floor beneath her feet was the only thing grounding her to the reality of the moment. To the gravity of what she’d done. No, not done, past tense. Of what she was doing. Present tense. Again.

The first time had been… a fluke. An indiscretion. Perhaps even a moment of weakness rooted in morbid curiosity. A poor decision born of loneliness and isolation. Elidibus’ confession at the lookout over Lakeland had sounded confused, irrational, and impossible. The words of a man who was no longer engaging with reality, mistaking her for another. But then he’d used her name—not a title bestowed upon her, but her actual name—and he was no longer the only one confused. What he claimed was impossible, and yet she needed to believe it so desperately that she indulged it.

She had no excuses after that first time. Or the second. Or the third. It was past time to admit that she was actively participating in something that she should not have been with someone she should not have. Someone who one moment was buried deep inside her, proclaiming how much he missed her, loved her, and the next reassuring her that he fully intended to end her very existence all the same. Angry at himself for weakness in the face of all which was at stake, and angry at her for… causing it. Apparently.

After she realized she could accidentally summon him to her, she quickly learned how to do it on purpose. And she did. She called him to her to see what would happen. To see how far his obsession went. And, were she honest, to see where her own ended.

He paced behind her. He always paced after, sinking into his rage and determination once more as their pulses settled and he focused on redressing. Though, anger wasn’t exactly what she would call it. It had morphed over the short time they repeated this mistake into what felt more akin to self-loathing. A feeling she knew too well, as it turned out. What froze her in place and trapped her in her thoughts compelled him to rail about her Pendants room for the duration of the brief time he ever remained.

“This changes nothing,” he repeated. Another familiar refrain, the reminder that for all his proclamations of love, she was still his enemy. The one with who fault for all his woes lie. The one whose death was the only path to his victory. His duty. The obstacle to, as he put it, saving the world. Both heroes from their perspectives, their purposes at an impasse, even this bizarre, mutual allure of what was forbidden could not resolve it. In fact, Kit was fairly certain it only worsened everything.

“I know.” She couldn’t look at him. She didn’t need to. He would still be naked, moving about the room in a stolen body and avoiding looking at her.

“Yet you continue to call me forth.”

She glanced over her shoulder. “You continue to answer.”

Silence, apart from the forced breath through his nose.

She closed her eyes again, waiting. Why he just did not carry out his plan when she was like this—unarmed, confused, and vulnerable—she could not say. Certainly it would be faster than whatever mutual misery they inflicted upon one another. Did he not want his vengeance? For what reason did he prolong the inevitable? In a few minutes he would roughly gather her to him again, crushing her against Ardbert’s chest and inhaling into her hair. Then he would grind out between his teeth a lament for what he could not remember. And she would welcome it.

Kit swallowed. “Next time—”

“There will be no next time,” he said. Cold. Defiant.

“Next time, maybe you could not… use that body.”

He spun about, a cruel smile touching the mouth. “I would be a fool to surrender my greatest weapon.”

“He was my friend,” she murmured. Another thing that did not exist in the past tense, yet something she could not be bothered to explain. “And you violated him. His memory. His legacy.”

He sniffed. “How the Warrior of Darkness spouts hypocrisy.”

She looked up at him, a useless feeling of longing continuing to spur her forward into foolishness. “How do you expect me to sleep next to you at night knowing what you did?” As close as she could come to an invitation. One she could not decide if she wanted him to accept or not.

“That,” he said, cold blue eyes boring into her even as grief hung over him, “will never be something about which you need worry.”

“Elidibus.” She stood, feeling small before him despite her height over him. “We could… stop this. All of it and—”

“No!” he shot. “No. This cannot be stopped. Do you not—” He clenched a hand into a fist. “Of course you do not. You could not understand. How could you ever understand?” He frowned, a conflict waging across his face. His mouth moved as if he would say more, then the more familiar vacancy took over his eyes, and it was lost. The air shifted, a rift opened, and he strode forward toward it. “Do not summon me again. I will not answer.”

“I won’t,” she growled.

They both knew it for a lie.

[7marichan714]

[Bad ending DSR AU]

Nidstinien x Forgiven Lament 💔

Triggered when Estinien doesn't survive after the posession of the Eyes, and Stellaris impales herself with her spear, after failing her promise to Alberic of saving Estinien.

During ShB, the Exarch summons the WoLs, including the twisted spirit of Stella and she becomes a sin eater called Forgiven Lament. She only craves peace and rest with her beloved. Unable to do so, becomes a menace for everyone, summoning the spirit of Estinien and Nidhogg to fight alongside her.

The world fails to be saved since the four WoLs are required to trigger Azem crystal, however with Stellaris corrupted this wouldn't be possible.

Only way to avoid this would be saving Estinien with the new DSR timeline too, where Haurchie and Ysayle live.

[sheyshen]

figuring out some stuff i wanna draw in the new year:

-for sure wanna finish the little smut art that I had started sketching back in november. -bad end ShB au, not sure how big of a piece yet but I've got this idea in my head of raya turning sin eater/lightwarden and all that entails but still being unable to kill thancred so there's that extra pain there. -something of carolina. i've been wanting to draw her again recently so for sure wanna make sure something of her is in my wips starting in the new year. -maybe a new set of otp art? or pinups? both? -for sure wanna still draw that thing of theron in the trophy husband shirt still, i haven't forgotten about that! -others????

[kokuycku]

I'm gonna just throw this out into the wild.

In Heavensward, the Vault was the worst possible thing Dark could go through. Haurchefant defended him from an attack that would've, at the least, just barely nicked Dark and hit the ground between them. Took a blow that meant death.

"A smile better suits a hero." were the last words he ever heard Haurchefant say. To lose someone that close to him, who had been in his corner- who had advocated for his admittance to Ishgard as wards of House Fortemps?

There was so much grief and anguish that Dark shut down. Went completely mute, incapable of conveying anything beyond gestures and body language. Even as he fought Thordan and the Knights of the Round, all he felt was intense grief, anguish...

And rage.

Rage at Thordan and his Heavens' Ward for taking the only person who truly cared about him away from him. Taking something that was his.

Because these emotions were purely his and not shared, they were a lot more intense than the blunted version he'd feel back when he shared a body with someone else.

Dark suffered a mental break at this point, and thus ended up in a horrible mindset for the rest of Post-Heavensward up to after the Nadaam and chasing the Garleans out of the Steppe. He had suffered a pretty bad wound from Zenos that festered due to not being able to care for it properly or have it cared for.

See, during the time he spiralled pretty far downwards, he scared a majority of the Scions (the exceptions were Krile, Urianger and Y'shtola) and they had been treating him a lot differently than before. He was basically the Scion's "attack dog" for a while and it didn't change for some time.

After recovering from how badly infected his wound had gotten and how the Au Ra (and Hien) had treated him like just another person instead of someone to be feared, Dark regained a lot of his former self. It took a while for him to recover, which was when he started piecing himself back together.

Things don't go back to normal until post-ShB, after Dark nearly dies due to the intake of contaminated Light (He would never become a Lightwarden, he'd just outright die and was close to it before he used the entirety to kill Emet-Selch). He's treated better during ShB but not completely until after Emet's death.

Sooo, yeah.

[carcharsaur]

(sticking to your rearview window) 3, 15, 34 for both caranar and kozu please...

3. Does their Echo function like it does in the MSQ? Or is there a twist to it? 

kozu doesn't have the echo at all! he's a RELATIVELY normal guy... not being able to help the 'real' wol fight did bother him more and more as time went on so endwalker finally letting him participate was gratifying for him (guy who has a guilt complex about inaction. smiles) for caranar, he gets flashes of the future similar to mikoto from ivalice/bozja quests and... it's a big thing for him, from the moment he got it he and the people around him labeled it as a curse and portent of doom. it was the start of a lot of bad shit happening to him genuinely. it haunted him for the longest time, and before meeting minfillia he refused to even speak about it or admit it was a thing anymore out of fear of it. after meeting her and other echo-bearers it was a huge weight lifted from him, but it took him a long time to begin to accept and come to terms with it. even when it was framed as a loving blessing from hydaelyn he still fell ill at ease about it. the things he sees always happen without fail, but they lack a lot of context that the canon in-game echo scenes have so the devil is in the details etc. but even still very rarely does it not fill him with dread to get one. meeting mikoto really helped him cope too though I imagine they are besties based on JUST that cause he is not scholarly but they can firmly shake hands about this.

ok good lordt I'm gonna readmore the rest

15. Is your WoL promiscuous? Celibate? Or just waiting for the right person? 

caranar hypothetically has no problem sleeping around, but in the context of like ARR-late HW he is way too insecure and scared (both of being hurt and hurting someone. bodily) to be vulnerable with people like that really. so he flirts then pulls back before he has to really show his underbelly etc you'd have to chase him and get his trust. hard sell. in my main canon for caranar by the time uuuh 4.1 rolls around he has a wife but in my multitudinous AUs SB would be the prime caranar slut era (especially when he's riding the high of the nadaam arc), shb too but in a more unhealthy "we might die tomorrow so fuck it" way. post endwalker though he'd be very well adjusted and free to indulge. the thing with him though is that if he catches real feelings for someone he'd pursue that singlemindedly and get overprotective of it. and fall deep fast. so partially waiting for right person but not going to hold himself back either I suppose? kozu... well he's a whore and I love him for that. (in my perfect world where transphobia isn't a thing to worry about on etheirys). as soon as he got remotely settled in dalmasca he just had a full hedonist era. caranar was his roommate and was sick of his shit but didn't care enough at the time to intervene. the events at the end of their time there though lead to kozu withdrawing a lot and focusing on himself rather than relationships, by the time we get to ARR though he'd just have regular flings. dropping anything as soon as he got scared of the expectation, inclination, echo, of any real emotional intimacy and commitment. genuinely kind of a big problem with him until fucking shadowbringers where in the face of "we might die here for real" and being away from the source he pulled some skeletons out of his closet and faced them for real. still a bit flighty but he's trying. also he's polyam and if a partner wanted exclusivity it'd be over right away, but he's very clear about that before getting real with anyone. oh btw caranar is bi/pan and kozu is very very gay

34. Would you say your WoL is fundamentally a good person? Or are they a bad person that's been persuaded to do the right things? 

well I think if you directly asked them, caranar would legitimately think he's a bad person despite his every effort to try and do good. and kozu would just say they're trying to be a good person out of their own selfish desire, undermining how good they could truly be. I think they're both fundamentally good people though, especially caranar... he's just been abused and used enough that he blames himself for it rather than those who inflicted it on him. (other than the empire. and ishgardian inquisitors. he wants to tear through them. his righteous rage is focused more of injust structures of power and ppl that willfully enforce them vs. individual people) he really just wants to do right by common people though. kozu is a bit more complicated, but not enough for me to say he was ever "bad" just he genuinely didn't understand the weight of his own actions when killing people as a warder in golmore and felt more and more personally sickened by himself the more of the world he saw, and thinks he can never make up for a hundred years of that no matter how many lives he saves now.

[akirakirxaa]

Broken Pieces Shine: Chapter 1

Rating: Mature

Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV

Relationship: Emet-Selch/Warrior of Light, Azem/Emet-Selch

Tags: Named Warrior of Light, Female Warrior of Light, Au Ra Xaela, Suicide, Character Death, Bad Ending, Shadowbringers Spoilers, Lightwarden AU, Depression, Soulmates, Reincarnation, Possession, Body Horror

Summary: The Warrior of Light is out of options, and ventures to the Tempest alone to bargain for her friends' safety.

[the-unending-journey]

If you were to be entirely indulgent and give your character(s) a good ending, where everything happened they way they wanted, what would it look like? On the flip-side, what would a bad ending look like?

Well, the thing with me is that I always make sure my characters have good endings in their main canon. I don't mind angst and I definitely won't deny that I put them through The Horrors(tm), but I honestly can't stand the thought of a character's life never getting better after it all

Kiyo's good ending is fairly simple for her - she's free from her duties as the champion of the star and isn't constantly relied on to solve everyone's problems. While her life would never be completely the same after it all, she starts getting it back piece by piece and finally living for herself again. She starts rediscovering who she was before all the hero business

She's also able to heal from all the trauma she was put through, even from since she was a child, and learning to find her own voice again and not be terrified to use it. And of course with the various ships I have with her, she builds a family of her own like she always wanted

Speaking of family, a really important part of this ending is that she finally works up the courage to return to her own home and let go of the specter of her mother that constantly haunted her (figuratively and even literally). She gains the closure she had needed for years and her heart finally finds peace with it

Now bad endings? Even though a good ending is always going to be the main canon, I have a "what if" bad ending scenario or two. One of them deals with The Incident(tm) that happens in ShB that we all know, so I won't get into that one too much. HOWEVER, I do have a bad ending specific to her - she ends up becoming her town's "guardian diety" thanks to her mother's plan to drive the Garleans from it

This is Primal!Kiyo, also known as Otohime. While Kiyo's mother had good intentions, using one's child as a means to call forth a twisted version of their patron kami really isn't the way to go about it. It all unfortunately backfires with Kiyo destroying not only their oppressors, but the entirety of the town itself, with any who survived the onslaught becoming tempered and bound to her (including her own mother). And thus she's doomed to live as a corrupt being of uncontrolled power, until souls strong and brave enough put her out of such a miserable life. One of these ends up being her own brother

There's a little more detail on Otohime I wrote here (as well as her sineater form) -> bad end au forms

[otherworldseekers]

i am curious about your thoughts of shipping severia with like… emet-selch

Emet-Selch was who I originally wanted to ship with just after finishing ShB. I was really into WoL/Emet for a while. I even thought of doing a Bad End au where she joins the Ascians.

It seems like it would work. On the surface, he's another snarky Garlean after all. But the more I developed her as an OC the less I could imagine her falling for him. For one thing, she has quite enough of her own trauma, thank you very much, and does not want to deal with whatever Emet has going on. (I think 12,000 years of trauma is way too much to ask anyone to deal with so shout out to those WoLs who do.)

Now, I will say if she had met him as Hades first, it would have been different. I think I might be one of the only ones in the fandom that likes Hades Emet-Selch a lot more than Solus Emet-Selch.

But as far as Ascians go, at this point, I would be far more likely to ship her with Elidibus.

Thanks for the interesting ask!

[laeorinel]

FFXIV Write 2023 - Day 19 - Weal

A teeny tiny bit of wolcred if you're looking for it. No real spoilers as such aside from the names of a few places. Set vaguely post-shb.

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

Thancred tensed against the thick metal cable that bound him as the Centurion landed another blow. Gods, how long had they been at this? It had to be getting close to four hours by now. 

Spitting more blood on the floor beneath him, he could almost imagine the weals and welts forming from the Centurion's blows. It was hardly the worst beating he had ever received or the first time he was captured. Still, he imagined the moment a certain Au ra saw the state of him, she would go on the warpath, regardless of what he or anyone else said. 

"Scared Eorzean?" taunted the Centurion, bloodied fists by his side as he waited for a response or an order.

"Hardly. I've been hit harder by milkmaids in Ul'dah," muttered Thancred, doing his best to sound bored even if the beatings were starting to take their toll.

"Then perhaps a new approach is needed, " said a man behind the Centurion. Egnatius van Arvina, commander of this castrum and warden to all those imprisoned here. The man exuded confidence, but that was easy to do when the one person in the room who posed a threat was bound and shackled. The Garlean moved over to a console behind him, lights flickering to life over the few cramped cells tucked away in the back of the room. Thancred glared at the man as he saw the state of the prisoners. He had not been the first to be beaten black and blue by the Centurion. 

"You infiltrated our castrum looking for these rats, did you not? I'm curious how well they would hold up to punishments meant for you. Decimus has already corrected them once before. I am sure another lesson will only serve them well."

"I would advise against that," muttered Thancred as he tried to lean back as far as he could in the chair he was bound to, which was not much. 

"Why? Because you will kill me? Please, you and I know full well you cannot break free of those restraints. Your empty threats do not concern me." said Egnatius as he moved around the room, circling the chair Thancred was bound to. 

"Oh, no, no. You misunderstand. I am not the one you should be frightened of. You know who I am and who my allies are. Tis only a matter of time before they find me. Before she finds me." Thancred turned as far as he could in his chair to try and keep eye contact with Egnatius. 

Egnatius leaned over Thancred from behind, clawed gauntlets resting on his shoulders, the metal digging into exposed skin. As he spoke, every word was dripping with venom. "Ah, yes. The rabid bitch of Eorzea. Your precious Warrior of Light."

Thancred bit down on the inside of his cheek at the insult; he could not lose control, not now. He had to keep them distracted for just a little bit longer. "How charming. Well, that 'bitch', as you call her, is someone I know very well. She is known for having a bad temper, and I, for one, would not want to be on the receiving end of her wrath."

Releasing Thancred, Egnatius continued moving around the room. He seemed entirely confident he was in complete control here. "Is that so. I'm shaking in my boots. She will not be able to find us, you realise. Few know of this Castrum, and fewer still know how to breach its walls."

"Well, I hate to break it to you, but if you believe this is the first time she has had to break into a castrum, you are sorely mistaken. She has become a rather dab hand at it. Meridianum, Abania, Fluminis, Marinum, there may even be a few more I don't know about."

Just a little bit longer. All Thancred had to do was keep Egnatius talking and keep him distracted. "Not to mention, of course, she knows where this place is. I am here, after all. Do you truly believe I would have infiltrated somewhere without telling my allies first? Like you said, few know about this place, so we needed to get someone inside first."

"But that would...you mean you intended on being captured?"

Well, keeping him distracted did not mean he could not mess with the man, Thancred thought, his typical cocky grin on his face as he spoke. "Of course. Come now, you did not think capturing me would be that easy, did you? You lot have been trying for years and have never once got close. It was honestly rather pathetic. I practically had to hand myself over to you for you to even stand a chance, and even then, you nearly fumbled it somehow."

"Why?"

Thancred gestured with his head towards the prisoners. "It is simple. You had prisoners we wanted to rescue. This was the best way to do it, with as few lives lost as possible." 

"I could have had you killed on sight. You had no way of knowing I would take you captive."

"Of course I did. You Garleans are nothing if not predictable, especially you, Egnatius. You see value in people, but only after you have broken their wills and made them your puppets." 

Thancred could practically feel the man's glare, even if he could not see it behind the helmet, as the Garlean pulled a pistol from the holster on his belt. "And what is stopping me from killing you here and now?"

Thancred stared down the chamber, not even flinching. "Nothing, except if you surrender, things will go better for you, and you know it. The Warrior of Light is not above reason nor mercy. Harm me or the prisoners, and I cannot guarantee you will walk away alive...or in one piece. The same goes for the rest of you." If his research into Egnatius held any weight, he knew the man would cut and run before killing anyone. The man was a coward to his core. Someone who believed themselves in control at all times and struggled to know what to do when that control was clearly taken away. 

"Now, if my estimations of how long I have been with you lovely chaps is correct, she should be making an entrance any moment now. We did agree on four hours of no contact before she unleashed hell."

Before anyone could say anything further, the ground shook beneath as an explosion ripped through the complex. Egnatius's soldiers quickly pulled up feeds from various security drones around the Castrum, showing the breach in the outer walls. Egnatius stared at the monitors in disbelief. While there had indeed been an explosion, it was not of the ceruleum tanks as he expected. They were still intact. No, the explosion had been one of pure destructive magic, practically melting the Castrum's walls, and right in the centre of the breach, he saw one person standing there menacingly. The Warrior of Light in all her fury, ice and fire churning around her. 

Despite Egnatius believing he had an iron grip over his soldiers, he watched as they scattered to the winds, laying down their gunblades and practically surrendering on the spot. The Warrior walked on unimpeded, with a few resistance soldiers following her. More explosions followed as she blasted through the rest of the castrum's defences and inner walls. 

Thancred could not keep the smirk off his face nor stifle the feelings of pride, awe and relief. Not that he ever had any doubts. She had never failed him. Egnatius, meanwhile, at least had the common sense to know things were not going in his favour, calling a retreat before swiftly leaving the prison cells and castrum behind. He would be a problem for later. 

Thancred let out a sigh of relief as the soldiers retreated. Eventually, he heard the explosions stop, silence filling the prison cells. He could vaguely hear muffled voices in the distance getting closer, along with hurried footsteps. Soon enough, he heard the sound of metal creaking, and the temperature in the room rose dramatically, then lower just as quickly. The steel door to the cells shattered into large chunks at the dramatic shifts in temperature, not that Thancred was focused on that all too much. His attention was entirely focused on the Au ra who stepped through the door. 

Samara swiftly moved over to Thancred, her staff disappearing in a flash of aether and being replaced by his Gunblade, which she used to cut through his bindings. The resistance soldiers that followed her quickly went to work, rescuing the prisoners from their cells.

Thancred leaned forward heavily as he was freed, trying to loosen up the cramped muscles in his arms and back. He saw Samara crouch down next to him out of the corner of his eye before he felt her hand on the side of his face, ever so gently tilting his face towards her. The concern in her eyes was evident, as was the underlying anger. She had never liked this plan from the word go. No words were said as she gently traced her fingers over the various cuts and bruises on his face. He felt the faintest touch of healing magic before pulling his face away. 

She looked at him quizzically as he rose to his feet, taking his Gunblade from her. "My wounds will heal in time. Do not waste any more aether on me, not after that display at the wall. I know something that destructive drains you, and we are not out of danger yet. Now, let us be away before Egnatius returns with reinforcements." 

[cynthffxiv]

OKAY I'm yeeting this here and then closing my Tumblr tab in shame to force myself to work on my fic

Good lord Tumblr destroyed the formatting. I'm not fixing that good luck babes

CW: Suicide/suicidal ideation

Providing context under the readmore but this is an excerpt from my alternate end to ShB AU

Context: Fic takes place directly after ShB, but as Emet is fading, Cynthia has an Echo of a spell and Hydaelyn asks her to use it to save him because he's still needed alive. This spell has, ultimately, tied her life force to his, meaning the Scions can't kill him unless they're okay with Cynthia dying too. He currently has no aether manipulation because the Scions put a modified Allagan aether dampening collar on him so he wouldn't just. Leave.

After pulling him through an aetheryte teleport, Cynthia leads Emet-Selch to the Capitol. She keeps a few steps ahead of him, never looking back.

“Why did you ever invite me here? If you hadn’t told me about this place, I would have turned into a lightwarden. You would have won.”

“...It was my last hope to get you to see reason. To see my home, our home, and join me.”

She shakes her head. “We both know deep down I wouldn’t have joined you. I’ll ask you again. Why did you invite your own downfall to a simulacrum of your home?”

He doesn’t answer.

“Did you want to die? Did you want me to kill you?”

More silence.

She turns, smiling as the tears fall down her face. “I can’t kill you without killing myself, yeah? Let me grant both of our wishes.” Kicking him in the chest so he falls backwards, she unsheathes her greatsword, standing above him.

He looks up at her with an expression of sorrow, but doesn’t move. Doesn’t say anything.

“That’s it? No words for me? You aren’t even going to try to live?” But as she raises her greatsword to plunge it into his chest, he speaks.

“You saved my life. If you deem me unworthy of it, why should I try to stop you? My only regret will be knowing your soul has died once again because of my mistakes.”

And she hesitates.

And that moment of hesitation is enough for her to doubt her conviction.

“Damn it.” She tosses the sword aside with ease, watching it skid across the marble floor of the Capitol. “Damn you. To the deepest pits of the hells.” Kneeling above him, she holds him up by the front of his shirt. “I hate you. Every single bad thing that has happened to me, every damn one can be traced back to you and your fucking Empire. I’m finally given the chance to end it. I can get my revenge and end my suffering in one stroke of the sword, and you, and you…”

He watches calmly as her tears drip onto his face. “We’re the same.”

“Don’t you ever compare me to someone like you. We are nothing alike.”

“We are cowards, Cynthia Foxglove. Praying for a past that can never return and ignoring the fate in front of our faces. Trying to find someone else to end it for us, but being so scared of what awaits beyond that we cannot help but fight back.”