#BUT THEN once I hit Ishgard I pick up those three Jobs and then have to halt all MSQ progress while I spam dungeons to get them from 30-50

[cervidaedalus]

I'm leveling everything within the same level range Twelve help me. (I do plan to do DotH/DotL but they will be their own and only after I get flying in each brackets respective locations) (At least this is much easier to do now than it was At Content)

[fistsoflightning]

falling snows

that’s right. i am your living legacy.

                           gatheredfates’ [30 day WOL challenge] | prompt: sacrifice

i don’t mean to beat the “haurchefant-related angst” horse but also take this. this fic was inspired by a peculiar crossover-esque screenshot taken by @to-the-voiceless​ involving the quote above!

for as long as lumelle can remember, she’s always wanted to be a knight. not one of the heavens’ ward, mind you—they had to serve the king, and lumelle thought he was kinda smelly back then, and especially thinks he’s worthless as a king now—but a true knight, like her mama in all the paintings hidden behind locked doors and curtains. any time lumelle would ask, she would reply that was when she was young and filled with energy; that her arms today could not carry such a burden of being a knight.

lumelle hadn’t understood, then, what she meant by burden, blinded as she was by the gleaming swords and polished armor… by her own storybooks and young age.

she hadn’t donned her armor since auphine was born, but on the eve of lumelle’s tenth birthday—the one year they stayed home, rather than send her a birthday gift by moogle and a fulm long letter apologizing for not being there—mama had dusted off her gleaming platinum armor and circlet to play lumelle’s knight for the day, taking her through snow-dusted streets proudly.

“now, now, my little bell,” mama had chided when lumelle said she wanted to be a knight just like her. in her arms, lumelle felt safe, even when the stupid boy from house dzmael was just a few short yalms away from them with a snowball in his hands and three other kids behind him. “do you know what it means to be a knight?”

at a energetic shake of her head, mama laughed brighter than the sun, and said, “a knight lives to serve and protect those she loves. her shield becomes their towers, and her sword their final defense. at its very core, becoming a knight requires dedication.”

ten-winters-old lumelle, bright-eyed and still cheerful despite it all, took that to heart and worked to become a knight—and she did. just a fledgling knight by the time she returned home, vishap’s blood on her name, but one regardless

a knight lives to serve. to protect. to sacrifice. there is no greater calling, edmont mutters as he leaves haurchefant’s side, stifling pained tears as reese quietly walks after him. haurchefant surely would have had some witty response if he weren’t currently in a coma, the wound spanning his entire chest a scar thanks to lunya’s quick thinking, and lumelle realizes that mama never told her about being a knight, hoping that her childhood dream would one day die out like so many others.

to be someone’s shield, at the forefront of combat, a knight has to be lucky a thousand thousand times as every hit chips away at their strength.

your adversary only has to be truly lucky once.

francel comes in some time after—his steps are always light, always measured—and sits in the empty chair by lumelle, watching the rise and fall of haurchefant’s chest like a tourney, afraid to look away in the off chance—

“francel,” lumelle mumbles into her knees, and she’s more than certain that she looks like an utter mess; hair loose, tangled, and soaked in blood, her armor with more than a few dents and scratches, and an excessive amount of gauze wrapping the burns from charibert and the deepest cuts from grinnaux. curled up into a ball on her chair as she is, she might as well look like a brume brat. “i’m going to chase zephirin to the ends of this world to strangle him.”

honestly, she thinks she could do a lot more to the heavens’ ward if she weren’t on the verge of sobbing loud enough to wake the dead; first elwin, then haurchefant? she’s half expecting some barmy excuse of heresy to come and meet francel again, and she’ll come back to find all of what made ishgard home gone.

“and i trust you will come back to tell the tale, where i will be waiting with those kukuru rusks you adore… and, hopefully, haurchefant by my side,” francel says like a prayer, a gentle hand combing whatever tangles it can out of lumelle’s hair. by the fury, he’s going to get blood all over his gloves and lumelle doesn’t have the heart to lift a hand against him. 

she wants to promise him she will, her head held high and heart lighter than it is here, but part of her knows no promise would suffice. a knight lives to sacrifice, after all, and she is no more willing to have another pay the price for her mistakes.

“haurchefant will survive,” she promises instead. lunya, reese, a’dewah, duscha—none of them are fools; they know their way around fatal wounds… even if it took lunya everything she had to narrowly save him. the four of them have all of lumelle’s faith and trust by this point in their stories, and if she didn’t believe in them, what kind of friend would she be?

(if she didn’t believe in them, would she still be here in the first place?)

the room falls silent as francel quietly runs his gloved hand through lumelle’s hair until the tangles are nearly gone, and only then does he whisper, “i believe in both of you and your strength.”

...

it feels like another era comes and goes as they wait impatiently, traveling across the realm as always—adventurers aren’t wont to stay in one place, after all, especially not with them and the call of the realm at large. bismarck rises and falls, y’shtola comes back from the very lifestream, garlond ironworks prepares the excelsior for her maiden flight after soleil.

lumelle’s heart stays in ishgard the entire time she’s away, trying to heal before she inevitably finds herself broken again, by some new tragedy that comes into their path. she comes home, picks up the shards of her heart, and on the eve before cid takes them to azys lla, lumelle makes one final courtesy visit to haurchefant’s bedside, just in case this be the last she sees him alive.

(or just in case she doesn’t make it back alive.)

“so the little drake does pledge her life to fortemps,” estinien remarks when she meets his eyes, him leaning next to the door leading to haurchefant’s sickbed. his armor nearly blends in with the wallpaper; lumelle snarkily thinks he’d make for a good gargoyle. “color me surprised.”

she sighs, crossing her arms. “i am much too tired for—”

“relax. i’ve lingered not to insult your friendship, but to caution you. your sword—” estinien uncrosses his arms to pick up her sheathed sword, leaning on the wall besides him, and pull the blade out to reveal a good three-fourths of the blade missing. “failed to survive even with the smithy’s help. if you plan on joining us, i suggest you either find your lance or procure a new blade.”

mama’s sword… and her lance is lost somewhere in ul’dah, likely in the hands of some greedy merchant by now. even if she were to look for a blade suitable for her stature now, the jeweled crozier has surely fallen into chilly night; it’d be near impossible.

“...thank you kindly, estinien.” she toys with her earring as she looks away from the dragoon, sorely regretting not taking more care when she fought grinnaux. to break laevateinn in such a stupid, foolish move during a rescue mission, of all things… how disappointed would mama be in her?

he nods, quietly setting laevateinn back down next to him as he continues his silent vigilance, and lumelle walks past him and into haurchefant’s room, the metal click of her repaired boots catching her off guard. even for this time of night, the manor felt… quiet. peaceful. contented with their circumstances, perhaps.

and then lumelle nearly wrecks that blissful quiet when she rounds the corner to face haurchefant’s sickbed and finds him awake, peacefully listening to francel murmur about a firmament and plans for the future.

“haurchefant?!” lumelle hisses if only to keep herself from screaming loud enough to wake the entirety of ishgard. how is he—it’s only been a short moon or two since she was last in ishgard, and the others had assumed he would take much longer to fully recover and awaken from his coma, so how…?

she nearly falls face first onto the hardwood floor, tripping over herself to sit by her friend’s side as he gives a wan smile. francel, who must have been interrupted by lumelle’s incredibly rude entrance, doesn’t seem to mind her presence at all, drawing another chair out from its place against the wall.

“back in your armor, my friend? i thought you injured as well,” haurchefant wheezes, his voice softer than down and weaker than watered wine. francel, who has quietly shifted his stool so he sits besides her, grips his sleeve tighter at the noise.

“forgive me, but haurchefant; you do understand that lunya did truly mean no speaking until your wound heals, right?” francel says in a smothering sort of way that lumelle remembers from when she was younger and dumber, after each and every time she’d willfully challenge haurchefant in a mock duel and swiftly get her arse handed back to her.

haurchefant only grins wider at that, leaving francel to huff in faux annoyance as he too looks closely at lumelle’s armor. she’d just gotten it all repaired—a job made so much harder without elwin to guide her about it—and now she looked closer to lucia or handeloup than she did before.

“i dare say you did an excellent job repairing the metal,” francel remarks, poking at the pauldrons carefully. “ah, but lumelle. one question.” he politely motions to lumelle’s hip, where laevateinn usually sits, and draws haurchefant’s attention there with it. “where is your sword? i see only your shield.”

“...laevateinn? i—” lumelle politely coughs into her fist to stop herself from wheezing; she has to stay strong, especially now. she couldn’t—she was supposed to be a warrior of light, for halone’s sake, a sword shouldn’t— “the crack laevateinn earned in the vault from grinnaux was, unfortunately, enough to destroy the blade…”

gods, she’s going to end up crying in front of haurchefant someday if life continues to beat her down like this. both of them know just how much she valued laevateinn, after all, it being the final birthday gift she’d gotten before running away from home; she wouldn’t be able to bear them trying to console her over the loss of something stupid like a sword that was already decades old.

(mama would be so, so disappointed in her if she knew that lumelle was even alive. laevateinn was her pride and joy.)

“i know little of where you are to travel next, but excuse me if i find it unreasonable to travel without a new weapon,” francel murmurs, resting his chin in his hands. “but where would one get a sword at such an hour…” she merely stays quiet as francel’s discerning glare is interrupted by haurchefant throwing the thick quilt lying over his chest to the side.

“...if you are in desperate need of a sword,” haurchefant wheezes, sitting up in bed despite all of lumelle and francel’s quiet protests. “you may have mine, from my younger years.”

he points to the wall just above his desk, stacked high with papers he likely brought from camp dragonhead, to a sword mounted on the wall. it’s a tad longer than lumelle’s usual sword… but the way it’s framed above everything else in haurchefant’s room has lumelle pausing. the succession of blades, heirlooms, a knight’s first sword— “but that would mean...”

haurchefant nods as francel tries to keep his shocked silence behind a neutral face, hands folded primly in his lap. most knights who rise to high enough levels consider their first blades heirlooms, legacies to be passed down to their future children—if they are lucky enough to have any, what with the dragonsong war.

but haurchefant was still here, despite it all, and still he would give it up?

“to help my dear friends, i would be more than happy to pass down my first sword to you. tis doing no good merely hanging from my wall as it is.” he nearly climbs out of bed to unmount the blade himself until francel throws his arms in front of the injured knight. if he kept pushing his luck like this, lumelle would make sure herself he wasn’t awake to do so.

“i couldn’t possibly—you still have—” lumelle makes some frantic gestures as she loses whatever fraction of composure she had francel metaphorically beat into her brain during her free time. “reese. what about—haurchefant, i cannot willingly take your first sword when i’m going to commit regicide.”

francel balks at that—oh cripes, he didn’t properly know the full story, did he?—but haurchefant laughs in short wheezes, not as bright as he was before the vault but still there. he lifts his hand to pet lumelle’s head, as if her hair had raised in protest despite the tight pigtails she tied them in, and grins softly. it’s muted, compared to his normally gleaming smile, but it’s still his signature smile.

“you need not carry my legacy by taking up fragarach, but i must ask this you, ser lumelle,” haurchefant says, finally not calling her little or lady, but ser. he folds his hands into his lap, pinched eyes hiding the pain he must be suffering by sitting up to look at lumelle rather than the ceiling, and francel places his hand over haurchefant’s in a desperate plea to get him to lie back down. “please… keep them safe.” he does not mean them, the warriors of light, more than he means her—reese.

every true knight should know a plea for help when she sees one.

“of course.” lumelle puts her hand over francel’s in an odd sort of promise, but one nonetheless, and for the first time in moons, haurchefant’s smile graces the three of them, lying back down at peace with his circumstances.

...

with haurchefant’s blessing, you obtain fragarach.

[ambroseffxiv]

LFRP - Ambrose

special thanks to @crimsonfluidessence for the edited lfrp!  NOTES: most of initially mentioned notes on how Ambrose’s ability ties to Arcanima/works (in a simple sense) can be found on his Carrd profile found under the cut.

Overview

- Report from The Supreme Sacred Tribunal of Halonic Inquisitory Doctrine -

The Metaxas creature is a violation of not only the laws of Her Holy See of Ishgard, Her word within the Enchiridion, as well as the laws of the recently reclaimed Stone Vigil, Darkhold, and outposts of Camp Dragonhead, Whitebrim Front, Rosehouse and others, but a violation of nature herself. We are to do whatever within our power under Halone’s guidance to bring this creature to justice for the Greater Good.

NAME: Ambrose Metaxas PRONUNCIATION: Am-Bro-S Meh-Tax-Us RACE: J Tribe Miqo'te/Plainsfolk Lalafell Mix GENDER: Male (Trans, fully transitioned) AGE: 19 BIRTHPLACE: Ala Ghiri, Gyr Abania, Tailfeather, Dravania CURRENT RESIDENCE: Ren Huang’s Goblet apartment or personal apartment in the Lavender Beds PLACES THEY FREQUENT: Ul’dah, Gridania, Dravania DISCIPLINE: WAR/SMN(/DNC?) OCCUPATION: Retainer: gathering specialty in botany, combat specialty in WAR, botanist (specialized in seedkin)

SERVER:  RP MAIN: Balmung (Crystal) and MOSTLY CONTENT: Jenova (Aether) Different Data Centers=Different Universes, so treated as different instances

Personality

AT A GLANCE: Prickly, like a cactuar. Ambrose isn’t that hard to open up, but you have to be a certain type of person. He’s known to be stoic, cold and barely reacts to small attempts to garner his attention. BELOW THE SURFACE: A child at heart, he collects toys and dolls, and enjoys being able to play when he can in-between work. He’s also bubbly and energetic once past his initial walls, happy to lend a hand if needed. MOST DEFINING TRAITS: Extremely loyal to a fault, and when you do gain his trust, Ambrose will trust that person equally to a fault, unless proven otherwise with strong evidence, and even then, unless they are against his personal morals, he may follow without question anyway.

Motivations and Beliefs–––-

Worshipper of Shiva 

Dislikes the Twelve, but knows there’s a distinction between what the Twelve teach to how people may interpret it.

Seeks some revenge everything that happened to him. Passionately hates the Ward and Ishgard for everything that was done to him and the people he loves for years, and Garleans for robbing him of what he had and putting him in a prison when he tried to escape.

Despite everything that’s happened to him, Ambrose maintains a relatively kind and cheerful demeanor towards people, and despite his want for vengeance, wants to help make the world a better place through kindness as well.

Backstory–––-

- Further documentation from The Supreme Sacred Tribunal of the Halonic Inquisitory Doctrine -

The Metaxas creature is said to originate from the Dravanian Forelands, though it’s appearance begs a different origin for it. [Further investigation under way.] No hunter of Tailfeather has been suspected of heresy, however, the Metaxas creature has been reported in both the Dravanian Forelands and the Coerthan Western Highlands.  Following the initial sightings of the Order of Black Lotus, the Metaxas creature was first witnessed from a scouting group from Falcon’s Nest, seen making a large explosion of fire in what is believed to be a summoning of Ifrit. Other sightings were by other creatures similar to the Metaxas one, such as the Macelle creature, Clefier creature, and Gealionne creature.  After the elimination of the Order of the Black Lotus, the Metaxas creature was sighted in the Brume of our fair city, likely feeding on the innocent children of the poor. He went missing shortly after, sighted only years later.. Halone knows where or what he was doing before sightings resumed.

more under the cut!

Significant Relationships–––-

Vacho Vesucho - Father

J’nhakso ??? - Mother

Liloki Loki - Older Sister

Moh Ehs - Teacher and old friend

Oohr Seih - Old friend

Balmung

Esredes Rosemond - Adoptive father Leader and boss

Ren Huang - Boyfriend (? still complicated but not as much)

Akai Ikigomi - Friend

Additional Trivia

PATRON DEITY: Nymeia, the Spinner HOBBIES: Gardening, organizing, collecting dolls and toys to play with. Also collects miniature porcelain chocobo statues. ABILITIES: The ability to summon primals and aspects of primals into himself at a heavy physical cost, a higher level of aether within himself to manipulate and use. LANGUAGES: Dragonspeak, Old Elezen/Ishgardian/Landlord, Eorzean/Common (spoken only) FEARS: Excessive amounts of fresh blood, red on snow, large fires, the smell of burnt flesh, people who have an affinity with flames, excessive amounts of blood and gore on the color white, various other things that he won’t name. SEXUALITY: Homosexual HEIGHT: 4′11″ BUILD: Ambrose is a muscular yet soft looking man, trained to be a warrior, and be able to protect his fellow test subjects if necessary. The latter was fruitless, but gave Ambrose a routine to follow, and with how intensive retainer work can be, he kept himself in shape for a long time to be able to keep up with all of his clients. Nowadays, he’s much more soft, but still easily able to do heavy lifting and fighting, but for much less time. Otherwise, he has soft curves and larger than average thighs, and an overall curvaceous figure for a young man of his age. He is not uncomfortable with himself at this point in his life. (Reference NSFW) (See: Deviations from ig model ref for SFW references) DISTINGUISHING MARKS: Stripes, massive fangs that don’t seem to fit his mouth, but cleanly fit behind his lips, tiger ears, paws on his legs, unnatural eyes. COMMON ACCESSORIES: Cactuar earring on right ear, two rainbow colored earrings on his right hand. DEVIATIONS FROM IN-GAME MODEL: The paw legs, ears, teeth and much of his stripes, his tail is also much longer. Pupils are also white, and are less like slits, and moreso akin to plainsfolk eyes. (Reference art by elizastarkart, Reference)

Things you should know about my character: I play him how I play him. He might be an absolute ass to you, and walk out on a scene. I am not responsible for the trouble he gets into icly. Additionally, if you want to interact with him but want nothing to do with his primal side, I have no intentions to push anyone to have to be involved with anything with his primal side. That being said, if i make you uncomfortable, that’s different. Please say something so that I can fix it! I like to think I’m very adaptive to what I’m given, so don’t feel like you’re bothering me. But if him walking out because your character pisses him off and you get pissed off with me oocly for it, I’m gonna bring this up. Gets along with: Anyone kind to him initially. He’s immediately fond of people who will be willing to be nice right off the bat, and tends to favor them most. Otherwise, if you respect him and his ways, he’s inclined to like you more. Could go either way with: Anyone who doesn’t follow either extreme. He’s had to deal with other people most of his life, and most initial reactions are him being relatively shy or at least closed off, refusing to answer anything personal, even vague.  Unlikely to get along with: People who have no sense of morality whatsoever, people who treat him like a child simply due to size and age, and, of course, those who are aware of who and what he is, and intend to act because of it. 

possible hooks –––-

In Need of a Retainer/Interest in his ASSets

The last part is a joke- But he does have a nice ass. Ambrose is a retainer, and has many clients all over Hydaelyn, so long as it isn’t Ishgard/Coerthas. Ambrose serves adventurers, nobles, anyone who’s up to having a retainer, though non-adventurers will need to pay his salary themselves. He does not take ventures for his services at least, and accepts meals in return for work. Currently trying to save up for a place of his own.

Primal Summoning

Ambrose is a summoner, his brand is.. Complicated, but something definitely interesting to anyone who is invested in primals, Allagan summoning with egis, or arcanima in general. To summarize Ambrose’s summoning briefly, he has various etchings in arcane ink on his arms and legs, stemming the flow of primal energy when he summons them into himself. His summoning is akin to how both Shiva and Tsukuyomi were summoned, and so long as Ambrose can form an idea of what they look like, has the will for it, and is at his full aetherical capacity, can summon any primals that do not need a catalyst (Zantetsuken, the three kojin artifacts, and Tsukuyomi’s mirror, are all catalysts.) This would mean that you would need to know that Ambrose is.. Who he is, however. This hook means a lot more talking about meeting.

Botany help

If neither of those are your cup of tea, Ambrose is a botanist trained under Fufucha, guildmaster of the Botanist’s guild in Gridania. He originally picked up gardening as a hobby through his love of flowers, something he didn’t see for a long time after the Calamity hit Coerthas. His love for flowers eventually manifested in him caring for many once he was attempting to sign onto being a retainer, and was accepted into the Botanist’s guild in the meantime. He still is connected to them, and does some jobs for them if they request it.

Veteran of the Dragonsong War?

This one is a little complicated, but a hook I’ve been meaning to add. Ambrose was deeply steeped in the Dragonsong War for as long as he was able to- At least 4-6 years, depending on how long you see ARR and HW taking. He was not anywhere near Ishgard during Stormblood, instead being held in a cell in Ala Mhigo. Ambrose, being a heretic of Shiva and frequently taking on his own missions, could be a familiar face to anyone who slayed dragons for years, or simply served their time in the Ishgardian military. A strange Miqo’te with unnatural eyes said to cannibalize those who drew too close, and rode on dragonback. Subsequently, if you have any heretic background, you may know him simply as Ambrose by word of mouth or through some of his more distinct features.

Mystery Man

If this wasn’t already a little clear, Ambrose is appealing in more way than one. If you feel your character would have an interest in Ambrose simply because of his looks, I am not going to stop you from using that as a hook! If you do, however, you would hear some rumors about a mysterious pony-tailed retainer coming out of nowhere to rescue people from thugs in alleyways, before disappearing into the night without a word. Considering Ambrose is muscular, he somewhat fits the description.. But he’s a bit short, isn’t he?

what I’m looking for ––––

I’m looking for long term stuff! And no, that doesn’t just mean ships. I really want Ambrose to have more friends and connections, ships are just a nice bonus if they come too.  When it comes to friendships, the only real requirement there is is an ability to break past Ambrose’s prickly exterior, or have a desire to. It is relatively easy if you have the right personality, but does take determination for others. Ambrose has a habit of stalking as well, and being okay with that ooc is important to me, and if you need me to stop, I will.  For ships, I’m not picky, but we have to at least RP once before I’ll consider it. I also am picky with ERP, so if you’re going to come into things with the intention of just becoming Ambrose’s fuckbuddy, I have bad news. On Balmung/Crystal he is now in a monogamous relationship in canon, and they’re in the courting phase of things. I am open for AU romance and side timelines, but main timeline Ambrose is not up for romance. I am not looking for any ooc romance, and will stop talking to you if you make clear intents for it.

oocly, I am ––––

I am a perpetually sleepy 20 yr old trans dude with a boyfriend and likes coffee and drawing thighs. I have terrible handwriting and equally terrible taste in music, and I draw a lot. Throwing ideas with me is an invitation for my art. I prefer being explained a character than reading (ironic i know) or learning about them through rp. I get very distracted very easily, and on discord will either spam you forever or be too shy to talk initially! Please be patient with me.

you can contact me via ––

Twitter: @miqosabotender Tumblr (Main): @senorsabotender Discord: satan#9018 carrd: eikon.carrd.co <-also contains full background, more hooks and other information worth knowing In-Game: Ambrose Metaxas

[keeperprinceling]

Primals and Dragons and Moogles, Oh My

Happens between Coerthas Western Highlands and The Vault and its Aftermath

Yvaine (WoL) x Khit’li (( @menphinasbow​ ))

Reposted as tumblr ate the original

Talking. Bug. People. Yvaine had been charmed by the Gnath outsiders and immediately wanted to do everything in her power to help them, so of course that meant he was helping them out, too.

The Chocobo Forest had been interesting, the tall trees similar in height to his home but the space between them so open that it felt entirely different. The life of the hunters and trappers that resided there was similar enough to some of the denizens of the Shroud, and with Yvaine’s hand in his while they walked and sorted things out, he had felt almost normal throughout the second stage in their trip - her contact and attention adding greatly to his appreciation of the days and nights spent heading towards the Churning Mists and the dragon that may help them in their bid to save Ishgard.

The fact that the Gnath were planning on summoning a Primal had put a damper on things, but after Ifrit, Titan, Garuda, Leviathan, Ramuh, and Shiva, what was one more faux-deity with the ability to turn any one of them but Yvaine (and Ysayle?) into a brainless slave? At least this time they had a primal on their side –

Until Ravana knocked Ysayle’s flying primal ass right out of the air, completely nixing that plan.

So, once again, it was the pair of them and a handful more allies of the Scions against the primal Ravana and… honestly? Khit’li had had a good time. Or, as much of a good time as could be had when fighting for your life. He felt he had a strong handle on his spells - even the new ones - and he and his fairy were in complete sync as they kept their companions in top condition and evaded the attacks of the primal. Maybe it was his conditioning overall, or maybe it was just feeling on top of the world with how things were going with Yvaine, but he actually smiled during the encounter. Ravana’s personality probably had a lot to do with his impression of the fight, as well: it seemed like he was having a great time testing out his abilities. He wasn’t focused on killing them for a purpose or turning them into mindless slaves, just proving himself against them. There were a few close calls, but, in the end, Ravana was neutralized, and they could continue on their quest.

…then came the dragons. Ysayle had a history with them and Yvaine was eager to make one, almost beside herself upon meeting with their young - “young” being a completely relative term as some of the children were more than twice their age. They were cute - some of them were complete assholes while somehow managing to stay so - but Yvaine was cuter; the way her eyes lit up when they responded to her, the determined line of her mouth when she set to a task they had given her, the completely charming smile she gave them after a job well done - he had seen these in her before, but somehow now they were even more endearing, even more radiant. He felt like he was on cloud nine every single time she reached for his hand, every time she smiled at him, every time they walked together behind the other three of their group, whether chatting amicably or simply enjoying the sounds of the Forelands together. At night after making camp, they would find ways to sneak off to “gather firewood” or “fetch water” together so they could more easily steal kisses or give up on pretense entirely and make out for a solid half bell, and then…

They’d settle down, slow their breathing to regain composure, and head back to camp.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go any further - his body was definitely interested in taking things to the next level -

It wasn’t that he didn’t know how to go any further - part of one of those awkward “male-to-male” conversations with his uncles told him everything he would ever want to know, with enough side-talk about “listening to his partner’s needs” to still make him blush. … especially when thinking about what Yvaine would sound like issuing those cues. Thinking about that was the fastest way to… well to get him – and the couple of times she had hummed into him when he pressed a certain part of her ear? The way she moved against him when his hand hit just the right spot or his mouth found just the right place on her neck? It was enough to make him completely undone and he’d have to quickly focus on anything but her to stop from trying to go farther, because…

… because he was completely irrational but old fears didn’t die quickly.

Ever since he could understand what his place in life was, he was told what his place in life would be. While his sister and cousins would carry on the family traditions, would make proud hunters or trappers or artisans, would make something of themselves and potentially, one day, become matron, he, as a male, had one purpose: to mate. Males were rare - barely one per every ten births - and the birth rate for Miqo’te wasn’t that high to begin with. Males - all males - were needed to mate so that their way of life could continue. Males of his family had the added bonus of their services being offered only in high-profile trades or alliance agreements, their coloring - his coloring - valued as a metaphor of Menphina in the nighttime skies, and so his ‘stock’ was even higher than that. Ever since he had entered puberty he had been pulled aside at Clan Meets by his aunt to be reminded to never go off alone with females of another clan, less he be taken advantage of for free, and when he had started openly flirting for fun - “practicing” for his future - he was reminded ever more forcefully to keep the play act just that - play - as his genetic information was never to be offered without a family-approved price paid beforehand. The act was the highest value that he had. That was it. His entire purpose. And of course the norm was that once he had done what he was contracted for, he was no longer needed and was expected to leave. Irrationally, he equated that with no longer being wanted. Which, all in all, paired thought of that sort of intimacy with anxiety.

Yvaine wasn’t like that. He knew. She would still want him afterwards.

He was worth more than just that act. He knew.

… He knew.

He just… was still working on the believing it part.

Which was utterly ridiculous because Yvaine hadn’t been raised as a Keeper and all this nonsense was just - just nonsense, people of other races didn’t do that. They didn’t have to make trades to mate and then move on to keep their species alive - they mated and stayed together. Yvaine would think of it just like those other races did - an act of intimacy. All the same, it weighed on him, sometimes hidden in his mind up until he breathlessly considered asking her if she wanted to keep going, and then would rear its ugly head and cause him to slow down and back off a bit.

When finally the dragons permitted them passage to Sohm Al, the five of them wound their way through the dangers that guarded the mountain’s peak. They fared well and worked easily through the trial, the only real difficulty being against the dragon Tioman, wherein Khit’li stayed planted too long to cast a spell and ended up being too close to a shockwave and was thrown across the arena and hit his head. He was fine - just dizzy - but when it was over Yvaine stayed close as they exited Sohm Al and entered the Churning Mists.

The Mists was incredible - off in the distance, ancient structures stood silhouetted against the twilight sky, the landmass floating here just as they did in the Sea of Clouds, but the air felt heavier here, the sky closer, somehow. They found refuge in the mouth of a wide, open cave near an ancient Aetheryte, and made camp in the yawning opening, able to keep watch in either direction as the cave was open to the sky above in its center. Before building a fire the five of them descended into the wide cave to investigate, with Yvaine electing to stay close to Khit’li as they walked around despite his assurances that he was fine and his fairy’s general eye-rolling at pretty much every interaction between the two. The dainty thing excused herself to flit over and join Alphinaud, leaving the pair of Miqo’te to investigate the dead center of the cave.

“Honestly, I’m fine, you can let go,” Khit’li assured her with a smile, “Go check that out, I’ll look over here,” he added, recognizing the twitch in her ears and the movement of her eyes as they pulled towards something he could not see. Warrior of Light stuff, maybe, or maybe something he could have felt if he wasn’t still a little disoriented, despite what he had said. She gave him a look that let him know that she was onto him, but went to check out the disturbance anyway. She glanced back at him until she was right on top of it - he lifted his hands in a shrugging motion to show that he was still fine, and she, smiling, rolled her eyes and bent down to examine her find closer. It would take her a few moments, so he turned to examine the rest of the area; Ysayle and Estinien had taken the outer regions of the cave, so it was up to the two of them to figure out anything in–

Startled, he breathed in, and immediately pulled back and sneezed, a fluffy plant suddenly making his face itch everywhere. He was on the ground - face first on the ground, the bout of dizziness hitting him so completely it knocked him off balance entirely. Great, he thought, picking himself back up onto his hands and knees at least. There was no way she hadn’t heard that.

It was an aether current, which would be useful to get herself used to flying in this area later. But it was also nothing she hadn’t seen before. Just as she turned back to Khit'li to tell him it was nothing, she heard a loud sneeze, and the moment she looked at him, he was sprawled on the ground somehow. “Honestly, ‘I’m fine,’ you said,” she grumbled, stomping over to help him back up. “And then I let you go for five seconds and here you are on the ground. Can’t even sneeze without falling over.” She sighed and slung his arm over her shoulder. She inspected him closely, not for the first time wishing she had some of his healing knowledge. Having a sick healer didn’t exactly help anyone. “Are you sure you don’t want your fairy to look you over and make sure everything is okay?"

His whole face itched. He closed his eyes and rubbed at it with one had as she chided him and marched over, frustration etched in her tone as much as her steps. A defensive response sluggishly bubbled to the surface of his mind - after all, he had sneezed after falling down, not before, and he felt that was an important distinction - but the moment she bent down close beside him and inserted herself underneath his arm, suddenly it didn’t seem so important anymore. He let the thought go, his nebulous attention instead on her - just her. The shape of her nose, the soft line of her cheeks, the annoyed arc of her brow; even when frustrated by him she was so pretty and made him feel so warm and full and complete. And lightheaded. Her hand held his, her other arm hugging the small of his back as she effortlessly stood, supporting his weight like it was practically nothing. She was strong like that.

She looked him over closely and he returned the favor, a toothy, heady grin spreading across his features and the tip of his tail lashing as he looked down at her, getting ideas that got his heart beating faster and quickening his breathing. By her words she wasn’t thinking the same thing, but maybe he could nudge her in that direction.

“Nah, I’m fine - just got a little dizzy,” he said, his voice pitched lower and smoother than usual, a certain compelling note to his tone. He reached up smoothly and brushed his dark fingers through her soft green tresses, “But maybe I should lie down.” The suggestion ended almost like an invitation.

He was… grinning like he’d seen something amusing, or like he was drunk. Yvaine frowned; how badly had he hit his head exactly? Did he have a concussion? He was using his bedroom voice for some reason, and while she was certainly interested - had been for quite some time, actually, especially when they were so close like this she could feel his breath on her skin - she was still worried. "That’s… actually a good idea,” she agreed, before looking around to find a proper place to set up camp for the night. There, in the middle of the room, was something inexplicably pink and glowing. And fluffy. It looked like a giant dandelion-type plant. Or rather, a chair made out of dandelions? Or fluff balls? “That looks comfortable,” she pointed, tilting her head in slight confusion as to what it actually was and what its purpose was in this room. But if it was soft, that was all that mattered, right?

She liked his idea. His hand slid out of her hair as she cast about, biding his time until he could see if she’d like another one, and when she pointed to a giant fluffball on a strong looking tree trunk he nodded in agreement, the movement feeling like someone else had done it. His brows furrowed for a moment as he wondered at the idea - someone else was moving his body? …He shook his head, and eventually his body responded, his mind swimming around inside it dreamily. So, nope, it was him. Just… a weird feeling. He stepped forward as Yvaine did and felt simultaneously like he was walking on a cloud and was about to fall, the resulting motion more a wobble than a step, and he reached out for her instinctively.

Yvaine caught his waist and pulled him back up, his other arm slung firmly around her shoulders. She was just grateful he wasn’t bigger or she’d have more difficulty dragging him around. “You literally can’t even walk,” she grunted as she made the last push toward the fluffy couch and pushed him onto it so that he fell onto the pink pillow. Taking a deep breath, she cast her eyes around for the fairy, which was nowhere in sight. “I don’t like this, Khit'li,” she said pointedly. “You could have a concussion. Aren’t you supposed to stay awake if you have a concussion?”

She leaned over him and planted one hand on his forehead, not even sure what she was checking for. A fever, maybe? She peered into his eyes, wondering if she could tell what was wrong just by looking at him.

Her eyes enchanted him, the bright green like the sunlight bouncing off of leaves in springtime, the flecks of gold sparkling like fairydust; his head swam as he stared into them, the rest of his vision spinning slowly in a way that was, for some reason, not concerning in the least. They were eyes that had seen so much and yet still retained such hope, eyes that glared at monsters as surely as they softened in moments like this, where it was just the two of them sharing a private moment. A private moment; a lopsided grin pulled at one side of his mouth, his teeth peeking out between his lips as he continued to stare, blinking slowly to take in more of her face. He wanted to kiss her. “I don’t like it either,” he replied to her concern, though there was nothing close to worry in his tone. Gently he put his hand across hers and pulled it from his forehead and down his cheek, pausing when her thumb was near his mouth. His eyes on hers mischievously, he sensuously invited, “Maybe you should get up here and help me stay awake?” and pulled her hand closer to his lips so he could kiss her, sliding his tongue suggestively up the length of her thumb before kissing the palm of her hand.

Her eyes flicked from his forehead to his eyes when he pulled her hand down to his cheek, and her expression softened. He was clearly in need of… comfort. Maybe? She was mildly confused when he… licked? her thumb but it didn’t feel unpleasant exactly, and even she understood what he was insinuating. “You’re impossible,” she rolled her eyes, but grudgingly climbed onto the big puffy couch alongside him. She settled on the surprisingly comfortable chair. “Wow. This is… nice. Like sitting on clouds.”

She snuggled closer to him, suddenly feeling really tired, the comfort of the couch lulling her into a sense of calm. No longer wired on worry, she ran her hand through his hair, slightly lifting the bangs that perpetually clouded his eyes so she could see them both better. Twelve, he was good-looking. Especially when he was giving her those bedroom eyes. And he had had no idea how often she’d wanted…

“So… what did you have in mind for me to… help?” she asked, carefully but teasingly, her finger tracing a line down his ear, along his jaw, and nestled on his neck before settling with palm down on his chest.

He released her hand so she could climb up with him, quickly getting used to the lightheaded dissociation that was going on. It wasn’t bad - it was normal, really; honestly, he didn’t know why he didn’t always feel like this. It was so much easier - what was the fuss about anyway? As she snuggled in next to him he breathed deeply, enjoying how nice it felt to be this close to her, to feel her against him, her attention all his and his all hers… but he wasn’t in a “relaxing” sort of mood. She ran her fingers through her hair, eliciting tingles that ran the length of his legs and tail, and then fluffed his longer bangs, causing his stomach to flip with an anxiety that he immediately dismissed in favor of seeing her better.

The way she looked up at him, he felt like he could do anything.

Her voice thrummed against his shoulder as she settled into him, and it could have been a very comfortable and calming experience but for the tone she had used, the way her finger trailed the edge of his ear and down the length of his jaw… He hummed in mock thought before theatrically replying, matching his pitch to hers as he tilted her face up to meet his and murmuring “I have a few ideas” against her lips. He kissed her, lightly, playfully, teasingly, pulling back after each encounter in an attempt to amp her up, to frustrate her until he was sure he had her full attention, until he wanted more and was reasonably sure she did too. He twisted, wrapped both arms around her and tried to pull her over to straddle his lap, the move a lot clumsier than he had intended due to – well whatever was happening - but once she was there it was like nothing else existed, her weight comfortable and exciting all at once. His arms held her close, one hand pressed against the small of her back, two fingers slipping ‘innocently’ past the belt-hem of her skirt to touch the base of her tail and the other hand slid into her hair, his thumb lightly rubbing the sensitive spot behind her right ear; only then did he deepen the kiss, holding nothing back.

He wanted to go the full way with her, and he wanted to drive her insane before asking her to go there with him. He wanted to give her the best night of her life, one that she’d never forget.

She giggled at his words, kissing him back, holding back a noise of protest every time he pulled back, making her want more. She pressed closer against him so she could easily recapture his mouth, moving on top of him now as he pulled her onto his lap, her thighs on either side of him and her head above his. She jolted slightly at his sudden touch under her skirt, but then grinned in understanding, her own hands slipping under his shirt to explore his bare chest. She let out an involuntary moan as he rubbed her ear - her favorite spot. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she kissed him once again, pressing her entire body against his, resting all her weight on him.

“Twelve, I want you,” she whispered into the curve of his shoulder, right by his ear, and gasped when she realized she’d said her thought out loud. She searched his eyes to see the signs, if he would pull back like he usually did when they got here, or if he would finally let her in.

She pulled out of the kiss and whispered words he craved to hear, the tone in her voice sounding like permission enough to – But then she pulled away, her sharp intake of breath enough to cut through the warm, heady wonders of her, his caution ceasing all motion in his body until he figured out what was wrong. He looked back at her with a heavy, confused expression, brows knitted together but his lips still slightly parted from their kiss, his chest rising and falling beneath her in the opportunity to catch his breath. Just as she searched his eyes, he looked back into hers, seeking the source of her hesitation, reading her signs like following a well worn track. She wasn’t hurt. She wasn’t afraid. She was - ?

He half smiled in his normal, teasing fashion, lips parting to show his right canine, and then leaned forward to kiss her again. She worried about him and how he’d take it but tonight she had no need of that. He kissed down her neck, an easy reach with her in his lap and their height difference, and found a sensitive spot to apply his attention to in an attempt to recapture the mood of before. “Me, too,” he murmured, and pulled back, looking up over his head as he pressed back against the fluff behind him, asking in a lighter - if perhaps a little impatient - tone, “Think this thing reclines?”

His smile relaxed her, and as he kissed her once more, she let her body melt into it. A slight moan escaped as he moved down to her neck and she cupped the back of his head, pulling him closer against her skin. “Oh,” she let out a half gasp, half groan as he found the sensitive spot, her eyes fluttering closed. When he removed contact, she almost protested, but at his question, she laughed.

“Guess we’ll see. But first…” She untangled the knots of his clothes hurriedly, unable to wait any longer now that he’d given the obvious go ahead. Her mind ceased to think, and the only thing that ruled was the desire that she had long hidden and buried, waiting patiently for the right moment, which appeared to have arrived now, here on top of this strange white fluffy dandelion, up high in the sky where the Moogles dwelled.

Fade Out

Welp this may have further consequences XD .-. this was originally just going to be left to being “given” rather than actually written out, but Khit’li’s got issues so he didn’t make it easy and hahahaaaaa only gave in when he fell face first into something akin to catnip. Goodbye, inhibitions, hel~looooo Yvaine♥

I’M SURE SHE WON’T MIND FINDING THAT OUT.

So, yeah, we wrote it up XD I mean them “doing it” on the moogle throne before they knew it was the moogle throne has been planned for quite some time ((XD click to see the art! teeheehee)) but we’d only joked it’d’ve been where they had their first time and all that XD

btw: this is why they did all those moogle quests - to pay off a debt to the Chieftain heaped on them. THEY HAD ALL BEEN THERE BUT WERE WANTING TO STAY HIDDEN SO COULD DO NOTHING ABOUT WHAT HAPPENED WHILE IT WAS HAPPENING. The King demanded a new throne, btw, and they had to work it off. … but they got a lot of “fans” in doing so. I mean the original deal got them some fans (”I shipped them before they hooked up, Kupo~”) but then all the other stuff they did just cemented their fame, much to the joy of Yvaine and the chagrin (and later distaste) of Khit’li.   The reason their house is filled with moogles? This. The reason Khit’li will still mostly do anything the moogles ask of him, regardless of how asinine he finds it? This. Or, rather, fear that the moogle will reveal this to friends and acquaintances and anyone that can see or hear them.

That’s right. Blackmail.

Anyway, the end. For now. XD

[tessariel-aerlinn]

Entry #2: Masks we wear

Prompt #2: Synthetic

 With the job always came the false front of being polite even when you didn't want to. The merchant sitting across from her was grinning ear to ear with that used chocobo salesmen facade and what made it worse was this merchant had attempted to cheat her company members in the past. This time that wouldn't be happening. With a calm demeanor her delicate fingers pushed the contract towards the merchant while a soft smile played to the 'pretty' face she put forward to seal the deal, "As you can see in the contract it covers the usual things of getting you to point A to B. Per your request we have three of my company escorting you from Limsa to Camp Dragonhead. One airship ride from Limsa to Gridania with a brief stopover in Ul'dah where you are picking up the other half of your wares along with one of my members that is a point of contact and will be guarding those wares. From Ul'dah you are going by land up to the Shroud where you'll stop in Gridania for two nights where for a day you will trade with a merchant there before proceeding into Coethras towards Dragonhead where you final drop off is." Using her fingertip she pointed out those points on the contract then slid her finger down to the supplemental part of the contract and spoke once more with a tone calm enough to soothe a baby back to sleep, "Here are the costs for each guard being assigned to your caravan. The breakdown is  simple...time, supplies and coverage for any injuries. Granted one of the members in this group will be a chirurgeon or at my suggestion a conjurer with field training for those in your group unable to receive aetheric healing."

 Her hand slowly moved from the contract to reach for her tea taking a sip so there was a comfortable break. The whole act of being the orchestrator for these contracts had become part of her. A  beautiful lie all to help fund the project of making a place for those in need of help. It meant dealing with unsavory types but if it meant earning gil honestly then she would put up with the harassment and the advances which she always just pushed aside though in the back of her mind she wanted to knock their teeth in. Usually Jared Quinn was with her but today he had to take care of his wife Diandra who  was working at the Thamaturgy guild.

 After that brief silence she looked at the Highlander merchant who was still looking her over rather than paying attention to the contract. She simply smiled then pointed out a few other supplementals on the contract, "There have been some changes since you last signed with us. I have always required a list of your wares to be provided so that has not changed. What I do require now is four copies in this case since you are making stops in Ul'dah and Gridania. The third is for the final destination which their logistics officer will want and the last is for my members to insure there are no losses or sudden gains. You can thank a fellow merchant that decided to try to transport illegal wares to Ishgard while trying to not pay the full amount. Due to this we expect half of the payment upfront with the final payment to be handed over to the lead of this contract."

 "And who might that lead be? Will it be you, my gil counting goddess?"

 Tessariel really wanted to reach over to slap the shit out of him for that but she just kept telling herself  not to give in. She could hit him later if necessary. Her brown eyes met with his as she shook her head, "Sorry but no. I have other contracts I need to review so by the time the members I assign to this job are back they'll be off again most likely. The lead on this is Renias Athidrial and he knows the contract like the back of his hand so no tricks. The other is a native to Ishgard and very keen on keeping to the rules. The final one is your medic but there's no need to delve into that any further. So then...if you will sign here and here so we both have our contracts." While waiting on him to sign she finished her tea then looked around before seeing another merchant that she had worked with. She wasn't so difficult and with her was her husband. The two were tight with gil but they had always signed on with her or followed a recommendation given whenever Tessariel felt her company needed a break. Once she heard the scribbling from a quill she looked back to the merchant sitting across from her and saw he had finished signing. He also provided the copies she requested with a smirk.

 "Here you go, love. Any chance of me gettin a bit of time with you? One on one that is. A bit of dinner and drink before a jaunt on the table or wherever."

 Tessariel smiled though she was cringing behind that smile. She took the copies that she was owed along with the contract copy before standing, "I don't mix business with pleasures. Shadows stay either in front or behind...never on top." With that she took her leave after handing a server some gil to cover the drinks then gave a wave before heading out of the Quicksand. Once outside she breathed a sigh of relief.

 If I had to keep that serene look on my face for another second I would have lost it...I'm just glad I wasn't sitting next to him because if I had been I know he'd have tried touching me in some way. The last thing I want to do is add to the blood stains that are likely soaked into the floor of the Quicksand along with Twelve knows what else. Well then...back to work.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PUIyPU_UB9Q

[spinneryesteryear]

Spinner plays FFXIV Heavensward

SPOILERS AHOY

- I made sure to unlock and lvl DRG before starting HW because reasons

- I… don’t really understand why people love Foulques so much? I can only presume it’s because they find him attractive

- at first I wondered why the lancers’ guild quests emphasized courage so much, but once you realize lancer upgrades to dragoon it all makes sense: they’re training the absolute maniacs who jump headfirst at DRAGONS; of course they’re going to emphasize courage

- the literal first thing I did as a dragoon after getting my soul crystal and the jump action was to launch myself into an AOE so clearly I’m playing my job right

- the drama between Alberic and Estinien was the only reason I made it through the 2.1 - 2.3 slog, tbh

- I picked up GLD/PLD somewhere in there, too, but the GLD quests weren’t exactly riveting and the PLD quests weren’t any better. I was just biding my time for DRK

- meanwhile I had hit like lvl 62 on WHM thanks to running lots of roulettes with Adventurer in Need: Healer so I’d switch to that while wandering through a lot of the HW regions so the mobs wouldn’t attack me. I did the HW story on DRG but ran dungeons as WHM the first time bc it’s my comfort role. 

- I’m… still not sure exactly how to do the mechanics on the Steps of Faith. Whoops. Fortunately, all but once I was WHM when I got it in roulette and I could just heal/spam Holy. The exception was on DRG and I just kinda… derped around killing what adds I could.

- those cutscenes at the end of 2.5, though. Dude. Duuuuuuude.

- it did give us Pipin Tarupin, however, and he is Best Lala.

- So, like… what exactly did Ysayle expect would happen when she broke Ishguard’s magic wards and opened it to assault by hordes of dragons??She seems genuinely regretful of the innocent lives lost when spoken to in the MSQ later in HW proper, but when she actually did the deed she was channeling ‘deranged witch’ for all it was worth and talking about how the sons should pay for the sins of their fathers. Did this incident give her a rude awakening about the Dravanian desire for vengeance?? Idk, maybe further quests will explain this.

—– me: *just arrives in Ishgard*

—– me: *taking the grand tour of the city*

—– me: *notices mob near cathedral, inquires about it, learns about recent violent death of heretic*

—– me: *finds heretic corpse*

—– me: *derails grand tour of Ishgard by slaughtering my way through the streets and through various chapels, laughing maniacally as I enjoy the greater reach of my brand-new greatsword and spam Unleash*

—– me, standing amid the broken corpses of a few dozen temple knights: Count Fortemps is probably gonna regret letting me into this city.

- that one dude in Camp Cloudtop who’s entirely too obsessed with the menu deserves to be booted off his lookout platform. I’ll even rescue him via flying mount before he splatters on the ground (however far down the ground happens to be, idk), but I really want to kick him off at least once. He gave me far too many fetch quests and my inner Fray is disgruntled, to say the least.

- me, just trying to make my way across the map: WILL EVERYTHING IN COERTHAS STOP CHASING ME???

- other people think the gaelicats are too cute to kill them. I, however, just want to kill them all the more. I’d be perfectly content to leave the mobs alone and continue on my merry way, but, nooooooo, they have to attack me. So I respond in savage kind.

- me, doing sidequest chains and getting mildly attached to extremely minor characters: So, I kinda ship Ayleth and Saintrelmaux now…

- ever since I unlocked it, I get Dusk Vigil all the time in lvling roulette so I’m now an expert on ice age megafauna, undead knights, and murderous griffins of the non-Sloppeh type

- Ravana is my fave HW primal, hands down, and his theme is definitely among my fave primal music. I would say it’s my absolute fave (I have listened to it on repeat for hours at a time, but I’ve done that with other music, so it’s not conclusive evidence) but it has stiff competition in the form of the Ultima theme, Leviathan’s theme, and the Knights of the Round theme.

- going on a life-changing field trip with Alphinaud, Estinien, and Ysayle was amazing. All we needed was Zuko.

- far too many side quests in Tailfeather. Far too many. And that one quest chain ended up with the poor dude’s pet baby chocobo as chicken tenders? If I didn’t hate chickens so much IRL that would have been super painful.

- the moogle quests required to progress the MSQ weren’t that bad. The sheer amount of moogle sidequests needed to unlock flying for that zone and their beast tribe quests, however…. well, I’m completely on board now with any plans Sidurgu might have for utter moogle genocide.

- lol, the moogles were about to give us more chores to do but Estinien’s sheer murderous rage panicked their chieftain into sending us on our way. I love him. (Estinien, that is. Not the moogles. I love to hate them.)

- Estinien is just… I love him so much. It’s more than his armor. It’s more than his jumps. It’s more than his sass and swearing. No stereotypical elf qualities to be found here, folks. Honestly, he could give some elves from The Silmarillion a run for their money, with even his own equivalent of Angband PTSD post-Nidhogg. I also immensely love that he’s a character on a power level similar to the WoL. (I don’t actually enjoy the main character being the most powerful person in the world, without equal. I like someone else being better in at least some ways and that being okay.) Heck, when possessed by Nidhogg he’s the final boss of the expansion + patches. And he lives. (Which is in itself a pretty powerful moment and Alphinaud and the WoL’s desire to save him lifts the whole plot point/theme into something more sublime. It would have been easy to kill him regretfully, both from a Watsonian and a Doylist perspective. The devs had no problems throwing painful deaths at us in this expansion. But we took the harder route. And it was worth it.)

- low-key painful Heavensward moments (bc heavens know there’s enough high-key painful moments): Alberic is extremely worried about his adopted son, whom he last saw nearly possessed by a dragon’s millennium’s worth of hate and rage, and who then vanished in an explosion, but he can’t do anything about it so instead he helps another retired dragoon worry about his own missing daughter

- ngl there was some red herring foreshadowing that the primal Archbishop Thordan planned to summon was actually Halone, the Fury, Goddess of Justice and Patroness of Ishgard. Which would have been badass. But I’m pretty sure Square Enix is going the Dragon Age route of never confirming/denying the presence of the Maker with their Twelve, Halone included, so I deemed it unlikely even as I secretly hoped. A lot of players probably missed these fake hints and would wonder what I’m even talking about. 

- I couldn’t even get mad about all the bad things that happened during the Vault because the characters were juggling Idiot Balls. (1) Aymeric thought his father, who has been consorting with Ascians and plans to summon a primal, could be reasoned with. (2) Aymeric went alone to go reason with him and was correspondingly captured and tortured. (3) We fought three of the twelve Heaven’s Ward in the Vault itself and NO ONE APPARENTLY QUESTIONED WHERE THE OTHER NINE WERE. Plus, said three have clearly already been tempered and are feeding off primal energy for their second forms, even if the mechanics are unknown. Those without the Echo should have promptly skedaddled after rescuing Aymeric. (4) After a dungeon full of ambush mobs, no one thought to secure the little airship landing behind the Vault before arguing with Archbishop Thordan. In Ishgard, city of verticality with its gravity-defying dragoons, personal airplanes, and millennium-long war against flying dragons. Everyone involved should have thought to check the nearby roofs for hostiles. Am I seriously the only person who has ever thought tactically about this situation??? (5) The WoL and Haurchefant rush forward to delay the Archbishop, again without considering the whereabouts of the rest of his presumably also tempered bodyguards or whether any hostiles remain in the building behind us. And so events happened as they did.

- Regula van Hydrus has a cool name and a cool silhouette with that helmet. Better than Varis, anyway. 

- the Vundu are probably my fave HW beast tribe. The moogles are the crafting tribe so Imma do them anyway (and have fun tricking them into doing work) but I’m actually looking forward to the Vundu. I’m just benevolently apathetic towards the Gnath.

- I just, like… did not care about Azys Lla in the slightest. It was more Allagan BS and I hated the map. (I still don’t have it fully explored??? What am I doing??) The ‘terms and conditions’ bit with the node was amusing, but… the entire place got old almost immediately. Finding Tiamat and talking to her with Midgardsormr was the only high point.

- why isn’t there an option to have Hrasevelgr come and talk to Tiamat to persuade her to abandon her self-chosen imprisonment??? Or to have Estinien later come and talk to her to possibly give her Nidhogg’s perspective? Bc I think Nidhogg would have some insight into her situation, definitely. She summoned elder primal Bahamut out of grief at his loss, while Nidhogg launched a millennium-long war out of grief at Ratatoskr’s loss, and now they’ve both abandoned their vengeance. 

- ARF TILL YOU BARF

- idk, man, the Aetherochemical Research Facility is such a weird conglomerate of things for a dugneon. Firstly, you got Allagan tech and machines. Then you got mutant creatures the Allagans made (bc, if it was mad science, then the Allagans were all over it). Then you got Ascians, evil ghosty dudes who laugh evilly and throw standard Evil Ascian Attacks at you before doing the fusion dance from Dragonball Z and becoming a Giant Evil Ascian. Igeyhorm has a feminine voice but is she(?) actually female or is she just presumably possessing a female body? Do Ascians have gender or do they even care about such things? (I am very much Not Thinking about Solus/Emet-Selch reproducing here.) 

- Archbishop Thordan reveals the millennium-old, perfectly preserved corpse of Haldrath, the original Thordan’s dragoon son, with NIDHOGG’S OTHER EYE FUSED INTO THE CORPSE’S CHEST, and, like, no one really comments on it in- or out-of-universe???? What happened??? Haldrath gave up the throne, apparently because he wasn’t 100% on board with his dad’s treachery against Ratatoskr and consequent decision to kill all dragons to maintain power. Dragoons were apparently already a thing at this point (HC: to combat the voidsent infesting Abalathia’s Spine and the mountains between Coerthas and Gridania, e.g. Witches’ Drop), so what happened to Haldrath? Is this explained somewhere and I missed it??? Did Nidhogg hijack his mind? Estinien had Nidhogg’s eyes (both of them, incidentally, which Haldrath didn’t have to deal with) fused to his arm & shoulder but Haldrath had an eye fused to his chest. To his HEART. What happened.

- And then Archbishop Thordan somehow turns Haldrath’s corpse + armor + Nidhogg’s eye into a sword, the primal version of presumably Ascalon, King Thordan’s sword, somehow designing it to eat primal/Ascian aether. And then he kills Lahabrea, which, no great loss there. But it leaves my questions unanswered.

- Thordan + Knights of the Round is such a cool trial, I love it to death and not because it’s easy. It could be as hard as Nidhogg Normal and I’d still love it. I wish I had a static with whom I could do Thordan Ex and other more complicated content.

- finishing that fight and the cutscenes after, however… man, I didn’t know how to feel. I was screaming internally and torn in at least three different directions. Couldn’t get through the patch content fast enough to fight Nidhogg.

- had to fight Raubahn as DRG to represent my decimated Knights Dragoon brethren and my missing possessed dragoon brother and restore their honor. I’m also 100% convinced Raubahn learned of Ifrit’s nail trick and decided, “I can totally do that with Tizona.”

- has Aymeric ever done a dragoon jump? No? Then he’s not a real Azure Dragoon even if he has a nice color scheme and has ridden a dragon. I mean, I wouldn’t be surprised if he can do a dragoon jump (he’s survived years as Estinien’s friend somehow, and I can’t help but imagine he’s dragged Estinien off more than one rooftop), but until he does it I’m not budging on this. 

- Aymeric getting stabbed by a rando with a pocketknife and nearly dying was (1) surprisingly realistic and (2) made him look wimpy next to all the punishment so many of the other characters take without dying. Sorry, man. It had to be said. I love you, Aymeric, but still.

- standing there on the Final Steps of Faith, on the broken bridge to the Gate of Judgment, staring down Nidhogg while that beautiful music plays (TELL ME WHY BREAK TRUST, WHY TURN THE PAST TO DUST) and waiting for the queue to pop… that was a powerful emotion unlike any other. Stormblood couldn’t match it.

- Nidhogg is such a fun fight because it’s still hard and I hate that I don’t get it in trial roulette more often. (Trial roulette is my favorite, actually. I love almost all trials - with the notable exception of the Chrysalis bc everyone runs around like chickens with their heads cut off on it and rages in chat, and with the possible exception of non-Final Steps of Faith.) Akh Morn is still a killer, I sometimes just want to watch bodies hit the floor, and Final Chorus is such a badass moment even as we’re all dodging for our puny lives. We’re fighting Bahamut’s brother. 

- Estinien takes advantage of Nidhogg’s temporary aether depletion to regain enough control over his body to try to kill himself before being used to wreak any more havoc. Estinien survived weeks, possibly months of possession via ancient angry dragon, and having two giant dragon eyeballs embedded in his body and feeding him enormous amounts of foreign aether. Estinien survived his body being aetherically remade into the shape of an enormous dragon and then into a giant dragon-man hybrid. Estinien survived the Warrior of Light. IMHO he doesn’t get enough credit for this. 

- do u ever wonder about Hraesvelgr and Estinien later meeting and Hraesvelgr identifying the spirit of his brother lingering within Estinien? Bc I think a lot of us have headcanon’d that Estinien is not as free of Nidhogg as one might think, what with his red fiery aura in SB and all. On the other hand… some of us further theorize that Estinien can’t be tempered now, so he could help us fight primals. It’d be awesome.