#so after a point it was just a part of hydaelyn keeping the old wol alive. what scraps of her soul that remained—kept aloft by hydaelyn

[impossible-rat-babies]

i dunno if eyrie could even still be a summoner after the redacted fight

[jenovahh]

Comm 03 - NSFW - Glitter

Rating: NC-17/Explicit Tags: Female!WoL, Cunnilingus, Penetration

The commissioner has chosen to remain anonymous! Thank you so much for this prompt it was fun to write and challenging!

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Warrior of Light.

Liberator of Doma. Savior of Ala Mhigo. Retriever of Coinpurses.

Warrior of Darkness.

Enough titles to sing your praises to fill an entire book, by this point you were sure.

Have books been written yet? You hadn’t been approached yet for a biography. Mayhap you were on the move too much for anyone to sit you down long enough to talk to you about your life; not that your life is much of a secret. 

Any news of your deeds and miracles had reached nearly every part of the continent. At the very least, the only thing missing would be the more trivial escapades or your humble beginnings.

Sometimes you miss those days. The days of stepping out and actually exploring. Choosing to help the occasional stranger but still going your own way, seeing the world at your own pace. Some might think not knowing where your next meal would come from daunting, but you had never worried. You could fish. You could hunt.

You could be yourself. For yourself.

It pained you sometimes, to think of the life you could have lived. If you hadn’t met wonderful people like Y’shtola or Thancred...if you hadn’t encountered Lyse in the forest. Or...Papalymo.

Grimacing, you heave out a sigh, trudging along behind the Scions through the Rat’tika Greatwood, its muggy swamps and blistering heat doing nothing to improve your mood. 

After nearly being accosted by the Night’s Blessed, fending off a potential Vauthry invasion, and held at knife point by small army of Viis, you believe you’ve earned a well deserved break, especially knowing that exploring the looming temple nearby is on tomorrow’s list of events.

You are provided with a rather cozy room, given to you by the Viis in exchange for their seal. They are all quite lovely and so is their home, your eyes drifting to the beautiful women of the village as they lead you to your room that you’ll be staying in for the night.

To your surprise there is a plush feather bed resting against the far wall, instead of a hammock like you were expecting giving what all you had seen of the village. A small basin with a mirror rests in a corner of the room as well as a desk, but the room is otherwise for the most part barren. 

None of the luxuries or comforts offered to you back at your room in the Crystarium, and you are just now aware of how concerned the Exarch is for your overall well being and happiness.

You returned to your room after a hearty dinner provided by the ever hospitable Viis, waving to the Scions as you announced you would be retiring to your room for the night, practically falling onto the bed for some well earned rest. 

You had already bathed in their bathhouse, feeling a bit better considering you had dove into the murky waters of the nearby lake filled with Hydaelyn knows what. It wasn’t all bad, being able to dive below and explore the ruins, feeling that sense of discovery and adventure you had longed for when you were a child.

You couldn’t hate the job entirely, even if the stress was monumental.  There was absolutely no way you would be able to explore an entirely different world if you had kept to your path as a young adventurer, if you had never joined the Scions.

There might not even be a world at all.

“Really hero, must you think so loudly?”

You’re on your feet before you can blink, dagger in hand as you immediately turn towards the voice. Vision focusing, you meet stark, gold eyes, twinkling in obvious amusement in what must be considered your antics.

“My, you sundered souls are so easily excitable. Though I suppose there would be drawbacks to being unable to sense the very aether around you…” Emet-Selch trails off, hands up turned as he shrugs his already sunken shoulders.

 He looks exactly as you had seen him earlier this morning, dressed in the same imperial robes with the same silly white streak in his hair. You twirl the dagger in your hands with ease, scoffing as you move to lie back down in your bed. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, Ascian?” you question harshly, not at all willing to play nice. You weren’t quite ready to throw your life away, mouthing off to a being such as he; you were no fool. You were sure that even a child could sense the danger he exuded from his very being, but you also weren’t in the mood to deal with mind games.

“My, my, aren’t we touchy.” He comments, crossing his arms and looking down at you from his nose, his lips pulled in a condescending smirk. “I come to pay the vaunted hero a visit, and am only met with hostility. Surely you are not so inhospitable to all your guests?” He asks, voice lofty and teasing, making your brow furrow in irritation.

“If all you came here to do was mock me, I would prefer you leave me be.” Is your answer, wanting to close your eyes and ignore his presence. Sadly, even with his rather hands off approach to “aiding” your group as he had said he would, you didn’t quite trust him enough to blink, let alone rest around him. 

Choosing to lay on your side, you keep your eyes on him, taking notice of how his own rove across your body in a way that is almost curious. 

“Normally I would follow your request and be on my way, however I find my curiosity weighing out my apathy.” He crosses over to the nearby desk and you watch as he snaps his gloved fingers. With slight wonder, you watch in awe as the simple wooden chair transforms into an extravagant, plush lounge chair.

He reclines as a royal would, crossing one leg over the other as he stares you down, eyes somehow serious and taunting at once. “I find myself interested, and perhaps a tad too invested in what could possibly be upsetting you so. So by all means, let it out.” He grins, making a sweeping motion of his hand.

You regard him silently for a moment, wondering if he’s actually serious. It’s not often you find yourself presented with the opportunity of someone who will listen. Listen to your frustrations, your woes, your chagrin at having to be you. 

Of what it is to be the Warrior of Light.

“You’re not going to run off and tell Elidibus what a sad sack I am if I do talk to you, are you?” You question, moving to sit up to put you on equal footing with the Ascian sitting across from you. He rudely snorts, the action somehow still elegant on him. “Hardly.” He scoffs.

“There’s not much to say really. I wish I wasn’t me.” You offer nonchalantly, missing the slight look of concern on his face.

“Do not waste my time by giving me clipped statements.”

Something in his voice makes you look at him again, reevaluate his presence in your room. He might be relaxed in his chair, but his focus is entirely on you. There is a muted demand to his last statement, an edge to his tone that maybe, just maybe, he actually does want to listen to you.

“I don’t enjoy being the Warrior of Light.” You begin slowly, trying to judge his reaction but his face is as impassive as ever. 

“There was no way for me to predict that I would be Hydaelyn’s chosen,” you can’t help but giggle at how his face twists with disgust at Her name but you continue, “and be the sole Champion of Eorzea. I had only left home to go and see what the world had to offer, only to find that I was the sole savior the world had.” Just saying the words irritates you all over again, losing what calm you had.

“It’s not enough that the Source can’t stay saved, but I must also be the savior of this world!” You hiss, baring your teeth at the ancient being before you. “Was it not enough that I had to liberate two nations? Strike down three Ascians, beings so old and powerful that I cannot even begin to imagine what any of you can do. More and more is constantly asked of me, and I…” 

You let out a staggered breath, shoulders slumping much like the man across from you. “I’m tired of it.”

Silence hangs heavy in the air between you, somehow heftier by the weight of his stare. You wonder what is going through his head. You take the time to quickly analyze his features, seeing as any time he deigned to make an appearance, the tension in the room would skyrocket and he would scurry off after sowing his chaos. 

He looks as tired as you, if not more so, the dark circles around his eyes strangely enhancing his sharp, handsome features. His golden eyes twinkle like the finest cut topaz, shimmering as if the very sun itself lights them despite how dimly lit your room is. His hair seems to fall a little too perfectly in place, the white streak of his hair standing out even against his pale skin.

“Perhaps you need a way to relieve the tension.”

His words snap you out of your silent appraisal, finding his expression has changed, his voice teasing. “Sadly screaming into my pillow and beating things up don’t make me feel better.” You huff, leaning back on your hands.

“Screaming into your pillow you say?” He echoes, chuckling at his own personal joke. “That very well may happen. My proposal was one of a far more pleasurable method of, as you mortals say, blowing off some steam.” He purrs, voice low and seductive, a baritone as smooth as a fine brandy.

You arch a single eyebrow at him, wondering if he was really offering what you thought he was offering.

“Are you propositioning me?”

Always best to make sure.

He barks out laughter at that, making a show of wiping his eye. “Never let it be said that the Warrior of Light went into things half sure.” He snorts, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yes, hero, I am offering you release; a union of our bodies to ease all that turmoil you’ve got building inside you.”

You can hear the amusement in his voice, and you quietly wonder if he has any secret motives by sleeping with you. However his words from days prior, that he only speaks the truth, leaves you doubting that he would use sex as a means to silence you.

Though you can’t deny, it would be very dramatic, and very much like him.

“If it is your own pleasure you worry about, fret not; I have had...years of practice.” He murmurs, bringing one hand to his lips to slowly pull his glove from his hand. You watch the action from start to finish, mind already wandering to how smooth his hand looked, and how great it would feel on your body.

“Very well.” Standing to your feet, you move to tower above him in even strides, looking down at the ancient being before you. “If it is release you’ll grant me, then I will allow it. However, it must be on my terms.” Your voice leaves no room for argument, and you take pride in watching as his eyebrows raise toward his hairline for a moment. 

“By all means, hero. State your terms.” He makes no move to stop you as you move forward to kneel on the chair, straddling his lap with ease. He’s warm, which strikes you as strange, though you suppose that despite being an Ascian, he still has taken a mortal form. 

There is desire in those molten pools of his, and knowing it is directed at you is empowering. You place your hands, worn and torn from battle, upon his shoulders, shuddering beneath his touch as his hands settle themselves at your hips.

“If you wish to help me find release, then you must please me.” You begin, taking care to watch for any change in his expression. “You must do as I say. Touch me how I wish. Take care of me.” His hands play with the hem of your nightshirt, his fingers sending sparks racing down your spine as he just barely brushes against your skin.

“So the vaunted hero wishes to be worshipped?” Though phrased like a question, it one of rhetorical nature, his eyes half lidded as they trail down your body. “A mere mortal asking worship of a Paragon. Hydaelyn’s chosen consorting with a bringer of darkness…”

His smirk is roguish as he finally slides his gaze back up to your own. “Why, if I were not here to hear the very words straight from your lips, I’d find myself disinclined to believe them.”

You take his chin by the hand, keep his focus locked on you. “I’m surprised you’re still alive, with all that pride you have.” You tilt his chin and he allows it; it is a control he bequeaths to you. “You probably don’t like that; having to bow to the whims of a mortal.” You finish with a click of your tongue, watching as fire lights behind his eyes.

“Is that a challenge, hero?” He mumbles, bottom lip poked out in a pout, eyes sparking with indignation.

“It’s your pride on the line, not mine.” You reply easily, taking his hands in yours and placing them on your waist. “However, I am not so callous as to prevent you to do anything you dislike. You will speak up if I do something you don’t like, won’t you?”

His eyes twinkle for a moment, his hands creeping underneath your shirt to finally grasp at your skin. “Of course.” he murmurs, eyes drifting from yours as he raises your shirt, exposing your skin to him. His eyes are hungry, and you wonder if he is more eager for release than you are.

“Let’s put these skills of yours to the test then, Ascian.” You huff, allowing him to raise your shirt high enough that his fingertips graze the underside of your breasts, glad he had chosen to come at this hour when you’ve forgone your undergarments. His touch is confident, self-assurance shining through every glance of his fingers on your tender flesh.

“Does the hero want me to sing her praises?” He questions, tilting his head as he looks at you from beneath his lashes. “To worship her as one would a god?”

“Yes.” You answer without hesitation, raising your arms to help him get your shirt off but he wills it away with a mere snap of his fingers. His hands climb higher, eyes drinking in your form though there is a distant look to them; as if he is looking through you. “Touch me.” you demand, watching as his hands cup your breasts gently in his hands, running his thumbs across your nipples, now pebbled from his attentions.

“Your mouth...I want you to,” you don’t even get to finish the sentence before he leans forward and his lips press to the skin of your breast, teeth lightly nipping on a pert nipple that has you shuddering above him.

You must say that he is as skilled as he claims, his movements practiced and calculated as he tugs delicately with his teeth, knows just how much suction that has you writhing in his lap. He releases your breast with a pop, his breath ghosting across the now moist skin. “I do hope you are up for the challenge yourself, hero.”

His tone hints at pleasures unknown and stories untold, that you find yourself momentarily shaken, enraptured by the lust pooling in those gold eyes. Eager to take back control you fist your hand in his hair roughly, brows furrowing at his smirk. “Did I say you could talk?” you hiss, to which he snickers.

“Then what would you have me do?” He asks, hands moving to slip themselves to running down your back once more, his hands dipping to play with the top of your waistband. “Simply say what you desire, hero. I am more than willing to play the part.” The huskiness in his voice spurs you on, fuel to your already raging desire.

“I want you between my legs.” You state without pretense, not dropping your gaze as he rises from the chair, moving the two of you to the bed. When he lays you down you find that it too has changed, much like the chair from earlier. Gone are the cotton sheets, replaced instead with fine silk, caressing you much like his hands are. 

“I want to see you too.” You add, stopping him before he can settle himself above you. 

“As you wish.” He acknowledges, his robes dissolving into mist before your very eyes, baring his lean form above you. You didn’t expect him to have no meat on his bones, but it is still somewhat jarring all the same to see him bare before you; all hard lines and lean edges, a faint musculature that betrays the awesome power you know lurks beneath the surface.

You reciprocate the same shamelessness he had shown earlier with his appraisal of your own body, watching with rapt attention as he climbs into the bed to hover over your body.

You expect him to go straight between your legs but instead he busies himself with your neck, pressing feather-light kisses to your skin as his hands roam across your naked skin. “So quiet. Must I work for it?” He purrs against your skin, the sound going straight between your legs. 

He trails down with more kisses across your collarbone, the valley between your breasts. You slip your fingers into his hair as he continues his way downward, parting your legs so that you may hook them over his shoulders.

“Feeling inadequate Ascian?” You tease despite the breathlessness to your voice, seeing that mahogany hair with a streak of white between your thighs. With another snap of his fingers your bottoms are gone, leaving you fully nude to him.

“Never.” He says with a smirk, pressing gentle kisses to the skin of your inner thigh. You unintentionally jerk in his hold, knowing you are dripping wet for him and yet he will not touch  you where you need it most.

“What are you doing?” You ask, a growl rising in your throat at his teasing. 

“I am between your legs, as requested.” He croons, caressing your thigh gently, pressing more kisses to your skin. “Or did you desire more from me?” 

He is obviously having too much of a good time with this, and that will not do.

“Eat me out.” You order, pressing your hips to his face. “I want you to make me come.” 

He holds your gaze for just a moment before he finally presses his mouth to your folds, testing the waters with small flicks of his tongue. The sight of his golden, hawk like eyes peeking from over your curls is erotic in itself, his tongue growing braver until he finally slips pasts your folds to seek the pink bud he knows is lying underneath. 

Whimpers begin to slip out as he devotes himself to his task, annoyance shining his eyes momentarily before they have that far away look to them once again. His tongue circles around your clit in a way that makes your head spin, your breaths coming fast until he pulls away.

“I will be the first to say that while your physical form is appealing…” He murmurs close to your dripping sex, breath sending shivers racing up your spine. “However...with my sight I find your soul far more beautiful.” 

You flush red at his praise, shivering as he brings a finger to slowly drag across your clit, his gaze almost awestruck at how you keen out your pleasure. “Loathe as I am to take demands from a mortal…” he trails off, moving to press a kiss to your folds, drinking down your nectar. “Your soul shines far too wonderfully like this.” 

You’re sure you feel your heart skip a beat for a moment, caught halfway between embarrassment and affection. He resumes his task with ardor, his eyes fluttering shut despite his prior comment on enjoying the appearance of your soul. 

Perhaps he doesn’t need to actually see to look upon your soul, but most coherent thought goes out the window as Emet-Selch flicks his tongue at your sex, unashamed of the mess you’re making of his face in his bid to please you. His eyes are open again, staring through you, into you, and you wonder what you must look like to him.

The thought of someone as powerful and ancient as him steals your breath away.  It makes your thighs clench tighter and your heels dig harder into his back. If it hurts, he doesn’t complain, if anything it spurs him on further, his movements growing more insistent. The moans finally begin to flow forth, filling the room that you haven’t realized has slowly changed, so caught up in chasing your pleasure.

 He’s found what rhythm you like, what makes you moan loudest and it’s a continuous push to the edge with no signs of stopping. You pray that none of the Scions will suddenly require your presence, for you’re sure that your moans are quite audible from outside the door, and this is the last thing you want to explain to them.

How does one explain taking an Ascian to bed? What words could smooth over the fact that one of your greatest enemies currently lies nestled between your thighs, lapping at your folds as if a man dying of thirst and gazing at you like a blind man seeing for the first time? 

It’s wrong, it's oh so wrong and you know it, and yet you find yourself unable to convince yourself to push yourself away from the Ascian to stop him, though from his grip on your thighs, he wouldn’t let you leave if you tried.

You watch hazily as one of his hands reaches downward, a moan pulled from his throat as he strokes his length. While his moan excites you, how deep and rich it was, you will not let him be distracted from his task.

None too gently do you pull his mouth away from your sex, urging him upward so that you may flip him beneath you. “It’s not your turn.” You huff, warmth blooming in your chest at how his eyes rove across your form in a way akin to reverence, eyes still glittering as he uses his sight to peer at your soul.

Pressing him on his back you climb higher until your hips rest just above his face, and from there he needs no further instruction as he presses his mouth to your clit once more, a low and throaty moan tugged from him as you pull at his hair.

You can’t help but take a peek at his length behind you, noticing just how hard he is, and you haven’t even touched him. You wonder if he really is that excited solely from pleasuring you, a pearl of precum leaking from the tip that you’re eager to taste, but not right now. Not when he slips a finger into your aching hole and thrusts it in time with his tongue working your clit, his name torn from your lips in a sigh as you press your hips further into his face. 

He makes no sound of protest as you do so, that eagerness he had displayed before returning full force that has your legs quivering to keep yourself upright. Pleas for more tumble forth from your lips, his eyes holding yours in a gaze so intense that you find yourself unable to look away.

A second finger slips in with the first, thrusting at a fierce pace that practically has you sobbing in ecstasy atop him. It feels so godsdamned good, you feel ready to overload after having denied yourself release for so long.

You’re not sure when you started begging for him to make you come, for him to finally give you that last push you needed, but he curls his fingers just so and you fall apart atop him, crying out his name in abandon as your orgasm shakes you, barely able to support yourself on your arms as white hot pleasure shoots to every nerve ending in your body. 

You moan in light protest as he continues to lap at your core, his fingers having retreated but his attention has not. “E-Enough,” you breathe shakily, hardly able to move yourself from atop him to flop on the bed. You feel him shift to move and as you turn to face him you freeze, feeling every bit the proverbial lamb before the golden eyes of the wolf. 

His lips shine with your juices, pink tongue coming to swipe across them. His eyes are half lidded as he stares down at you. Though he is currently in the dominant position, his gaze speaks of subservience; a need to please that has your lust spiking all over again as you roll to your back to fully face him.

“Where would you have me next?” He asks, moving to hover above you, caging you with his arms. You let your own snake around his neck, tickling the fine hairs at the nape as you bring him closer to you. 

“Inside me.” You whisper, feeling suddenly hesitant to kiss him. The decision is made for you when he closes the gap, teeth nibbling on your bottom lip to get you to open up for him. 

Soon enough do you take over the kiss, having him moaning into your mouth as you reach between the two of you to stroke his cock. “I want you to fuck me.” You hiss, feeling how hot and ready he is in your hands. 

He lets loose a low chuckle, the baritone of his voice rumbling through you. “Such vulgar words, Warrior of Light.” he purrs, lining himself up with your entrance. 

You feel the head nudge past your folds, your hips already angling to try and take him inside before he can even push himself inside. “I find myself quite willing to obey, so long as you let me see that wonderful soul of yours.” 

“What’s so,” Your inquiry is cut off as he finally pushes inside, feeling as if the breath was knocked out of you at his girth. He just barely pushes your limits, your body doing it’s best to adjust to his length as he presses kisses to your jawline. “Twelve above…” you moan, rolling your hips against him that has him thrumming against you.

“Yes, just like that.” He praises, pulling out slowly, letting you feel the length of him before thrusting back in, making sure you’re adjusted. He continues that slow pace, watching you closely for any discomfort, but you haven’t the heart to tell him you’re simply wrapped in so much bliss that your body feels as if it can barely take it.

“W-What does it look like?” You ask, breath hitching as he just barely brushed against that spot inside of you. “My soul, I mean..” 

It took every ounce of effort you had to form coherent sentences with Emet-Selch thrusting inside you, his strokes measured and purposeful. Even in this was he skilled, as if he was determined to make sure the only noises you were making were lustful sighs or wanton moans.

When he smirks at you, his own hair mussed, skin flushed, you find he looks incredibly charming. “Normally it is the color of the sky. What the sky is supposed to look like. A dazzling, brilliant blue.” 

His hands move to clutch your hips, gripping with surprising strength as the same smirk turns devilish. He brings you down hard on his cock, pleasure shooting through you as he stays hilted inside you. “It flares crimson like a sunset when you make your demands.” 

You gaze up at him in wonder as he finally sets a steady pace, making your back arch in invitation to which he readily accepts. Bending over he takes a nipple between his teeth, nibbling lightly until his mouth engulfs it entirely, tongue swiping over the sensitive bud in perfect synchronization with his thrusts that has you mewling like a cat beneath him. 

“Fuck me,” you demand, though it comes out a plea with how pleasure filled your voice is, your arms clutching him tightly as you meet his thrusts. “Fuck me like you mean it,” Your taunt is cut off by your own moan as he plunges deep inside, his moan dancing with your own as he pistons his hips into your wet sheathe. 

You’re glad he had changed the bed, the room to much finer material because you are positive that the old, rickety cot would’ve left no pretenses as to just what was going on in your room with how forceful his thrusts were. 

You had forgotten that there would be strength in the lean muscle that was currently flexing beneath your greedy hands; muscle that was now being put to use as Emet-Selch drove himself inside you, his mouth hanging open to make room for his sharp breaths as he plunged deep inside you.

He buries his face in your shoulder, your hand fists in his hair as he rocks into you at a brutal pace, giving you just what you desired, or rather at this point needed. There is something else you need, before it is all said and done.

You carefully roll the two of you over, the surprise in his eyes endearing as you straddle yourself atop him, hands flat on his chest as you begin to raise and lower your hips onto him. Now he’s hitting that sweet spot inside you, your eyes fluttering shut as you race toward oblivion, your body seemingly moving on its own accord. 

“E-Emet,” you whine, feeling yourself so very close that edge. Distantly you realize you’re not ready for it to be over yet, not ready for him to stop looking at you as if he had not seen something so magical. 

The choice is taken from your hands as he rubs at your clit and you come undone, crying out his name in release. Stars dance behind your eyelids as your orgasm sweeps you away, feeling Emet-Selch follow you soon after with your body clenching him so tightly.

The two of you lie there for a few moments, catching your breath as you bask in the afterglow. He is the first to move by trailing a hand lightly on the skin of your back, seeming to be content with the silence as you come down from your high. 

You shift to meet his gaze, which you’re surprised to find calm and affectionate. “Well?” He prompts, the corners of his lips pulling into a satisfied grin. “I made good on my word, I hope?”

You hum thoughtfully for a moment to tease him, giggling at his displeased expression. “Yes. It was more than satisfactory.” You concede, giving him a mischievous grin of your own as you trail your finger across his chest. “And you? You seemed to enjoy yourself quite a bit.” You tease, pleased to see him suddenly unable to look you in the eye.

“Yes, well...it certainly wasn’t a waste of my time.” He scoffs, giving your skin a light pinch, smirking at your yelp of pain. 

“I have half a mind to crush my head between my thighs Ascian.” You snarl, giving him a hard jab, to which he gives a genuine laugh. 

“If that is your way of asking for another go Warrior, I find myself ready for the task.” His touch turns heavy as it snakes down your body, his voice but a whisper as he holds you close. 

You try to ignore the way your heart flutters at his amorous actions, but find yourself unable when his eyes glitter, knowing he is looking upon the beauty of your soul. It is certainly not the strangest compliment you’ve received, but it is by far the best.

[gegenji]

Musings on Post-5.3 Roadmap

So, I’ve had a fun little thought on how the plot of Final Fantasy XIV is going to go moving forward for a while now.

This latest patch did add some wrinkles and new information, but ultimately I think it actually makes my little story path I see in my head all that more... interesting, from a personal literary sense?

I’ve mentioned it on some Discord channels, but I figured I should really just put it down “on paper” as it were. To share, to discuss, and maybe come back to it down the road and see how close or wildly off the mark I was on my ideas.

This will involve some revelations from the most recent patch, of course, so I will be putting the theory beneath a Read More along with tagging the entire post as spoilers. Since it’s only been... a week and a half? Since the patch dropped.

So, my little theoretical roadmap comes in three parts. One for the rest of Shadowbringers, one for the unnamed Garlemald expansion that is supposedly coming up next, and one for the third and “final” expansion before the FFXIV main story ends and all that follows is just fun support stuff to keep the game alive (and bringing in money) for however long afterward.

So, to keep things tidy, I’ll split this diatribe into three parts to match.

Part One: Shadowbringers

With all our heroes back on the Source, I believe the rest of Shadowbringers will mostly wrap up the situation involving the Sundered members of the Convocation - like Fandaniel the Fantastical shown in the ending cutscenes of 5.3. Mostly since I believe somewhere it was mentioned that this expansion would wrap up the whole Ascian plot. So I don’t see these Sundered Ascians lasting past this expansion, as that would be counter to the aforementioned goal.

So I imagine that these Sundered Ascians may get some attention, but it’s hard to imagine them having the power and presence of the Unsundered like Emet or Elidibus. Unless - and this is what I think may happen - they pull an upgraded version of the Ascian Prime fusion that is done in the Aetherochemical Research Facility (or ARF, as many lovingly call it). This could serve as the final battle against the Ascians, providing a tangible combat threat for the WoL and their allies as well as handle the Sundered Convocation members in one fell swoop.

And since Elidibus took the station crystals with him when he was absorbed into the Crystal Tower on the First, there’s no way to elevate any of the other fragments of the Convocation members to their positions. Ascians effectively handled.

However, while that handles the Ascian situation, it doesn’t close the circle on Zodiark and Hydaelyn. Zodiark just loses its main core of people who are seeking to release him, as well as the main driving force causing the Rejoinings. That does not mean Zodiark is out of the picture, though, as there remains one very tangible individual who I see playing a major role in the Original Elder Primal’s release.

Zenos. (Not a huge surprise, I know, but bear with me!)

Part Two: Kingmaker

This expansion is dealing with the Garlean situation. The Populares as a united unit has been apparently dealt with offscreen given the ending cutscenes of 5.3. However, I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s some manner of ragtag band of freedom fighters or something that has been trying to cobble together a presence enough to get Zenos off the throne.

This would be our heroes’ “in” to entering Garlemald. Allying with and supporting this group of rebels against the Empire. Bringing in all the “good” Garleans we’ve encountered before, as well as introducing some others. Showing that Garlemald isn’t entirely full of cartoon villains but a nation of varied thoughts and opinions. It’s just the people in charge still adhering to the thoughts and principles instilled in them by the Ascians. The Ascians are gone, but their machinations still continue in this fashion.

The overarching plot involves getting the Populares reformed, fighting with Zenos’ forces, and - ultimately - putting Gaius on the throne instead. Putting him in the position to rule he had always wanted, but after being kicked down and having to make this climb back up. And perhaps senpai will finally notice Nero and he’ll end up as Gaius’ head of scientific endeavors while Cid remains with the Alliance (and perhaps joins the Scions as well in a more official fashion).

With Gaius on the throne, Garlemald would be in a position for peace with the Alliance and the war would finally end.

However, Zenos - as we have seen - doesn’t really care about the throne in the first place. He just wants to have his Grand Battle with his Best Friend. And the ending of Shadowbringers and the entirety of this Garlemald expansion has been setting up for this great battle. He has just been using his forces to entertain the Alliance and his Friend until he can get everything ready.

In the ending cutscenes of 5.3, it was implied that Zenos and Fandaniel were trying to goad Elidibus into showing up. There’s some ideas as to why, but my personal guess is to teach Zenos one of the few Ascian-related things he still doesn’t know how to do.

Rejoinings.

Either during the final patches of Shadowbringers or during this expansion, Zenos is going to figure out how to do this. Perhaps not as cleanly as the Unsundered did it in the previous Calamities, but he is going to. And that has been his goal during all this: to provide that one last Rejoining that will allow Zodiark to break free from His confinement.

Why? Shinryu 2.0. His goal is to harness the power of the Original Primal and seek to bend it to his will for a realm-clashing battle of the gods between him and the Warrior of Light. Whether he succeeds or his hubris finally comes back to bite him and he ends up a puppet of Zodiark, the now-deposed Crown Prince is still going to get what he wants.

And that’s the Warrior of Light having to do the same with Hydaelyn. The two have their great clash, and the Warrior of Light overcomes Zodiark-Zenos. Likely due to the power of friendship and Hydaelyn more willingly giving Her power to defeat Zodiark than Zenos’ forcing himself to replace Elidibus as Zodiark’s core.

This battle drains both Zodiark and Hydaelyn, finally removing the two Old Primals from the game. Things seem like Happily Ever After...

Until the Sound returns.

Part Three: Terminus Reborn

This is the big kicker: Zodiark actually never got rid of the source of the problem that caused His creation and sealed the end of Amaurot. He was simply holding it at bay - a task taken up by Hydaelyn after the Sundering, and perhaps aided by the problem itself also being split across the reflections. But with both Original Primals gone, and enough Rejoinings in place, the Terminus begins again.

This is where I see a literary parallel happening here. The Warrior of Light - also known as Azem, the wanderer and gatherer of stars - has been gathering people to them this whole time. The Scions.

And while they may not be exactly the same, and certainly don’t have the power, knowledge, or resources of the Convocation - due to not being Ascians, not having the station crystals, and not being in a similar position of power - there is enough of a similarity that one could compare the Scions to a New Convocation of sorts. Perhaps even taking up similar roles in the group dynamic - such as Cid fulfilling a Lahabrea-style position or something. Or Tataru being the Emet-Selch. Or even being identified as the counterparts like in the Scions of Light/Darkness in FFXII.

However subtle or obvious they make it, the full circle is here. The “new Convocation” has to deal with the threat of the original Convocation. From a far more perilous position and unable (and very likely unwilling) to just do a repeat of the past by summoning a new Zodiark analogue.

So the Warrior of Light does what they (and Azem) do best. They travel the world, gathering the help and knowledge of people all over to find out a way to defeat the problem. If there are any parts of the Star (would it still be called Hydaelyn at this point with Hydaelyn gone? Who knows) that have been left unvisited, this is the expansion it happens. New World, Meracydia, etc.

Through this, the true cause of the Sound is discovered (perhaps a previously unknown side-effect of Amaurotine Creation/Primal summoning) and a solution is found and implemented, saving the world. And showing the Sundered races having surpassed the Amaurotine they were fractured from by solving the problem they could not.

Expansion ends, and then all the future content is more or less just fun side stuff or other mini-conflicts that take place on the Star now that the threat of the Ascians, of Zodiark and Hydaelyn, and the Terminus are all resolved.

==========

And that’s basically my thoughts on where I could see the plot going, based on what I’ve seen and what thoughts I have had based on the information that’s been provided. And some adjustments and additions/omissions based on the Discord conversations I mentioned at the very start of all this.

What do you think? Seem plausible? Too far out there? Do you see things unfolding in a different way?

I’d love to see what others think - both of my idea, and their own ideas for how the plot of FFXIV will continue and ultimately conclude.

[final-fantasy-mama]

Target Sighted (Ch.1)

Emet selch x Mature/Machinist WOL

I have revised this chapter, new pov, some rewording at the end. Previous version will be deleted.Enjoy! 

"Look it did cross my mind to simply side with Vauthry and kill you all. But that's no different than what Lahabrea did, and we all know how well that ended for him. And so while it is liable to be troublesome, I have settled upon a different approach.....cooperation." ~ Emet Selch

With the light warden of il Mheg slain and night returned to the Crystarium, the exceedingly happy and somewhat miraculous event brought with it something else: Emet-Selch. And that was something more a danger than any light warden nature could throw at the Hero. It wasn’t the first time a enemy just came right out and introduced himself but this one was a bit different. Instead of outright violence and another throw down between enemies, he offered something mutually beneficial. A sort of partnership that got more than a brow raise from her and her friends. But how on earth could they trust him. He was an enemy, after all, an Ascian loyal to Zodiark, the polar opposite of the Hero’s own goddess and benefactor Hydaelyn.

In a even more bizzarre turn of events, she accepted his offer of a suedo friendship, if that’s even what it could be called, with almost no hesitation. It was no question that at some point Emet Selch was going to turn the whole thing on its head, to his benefit exclusively. She knew more than likely she were going to end up being used, but she respected his odd turnabout approach and thus entertained his odd request. If anything it would keep him in her line of sight. She had already made short work of his other compatriots, so it’s not as if she couldn’t feasibly kill him should he betray her. Perhaps that was overconfidence on her part, but when one goes toe to toe with the Crown Prince of Garlemald and lives, Ascians seem like small business.

For now though, that was a problem for the future and she put it out of mind when she sat in her private quarters of the Pendants. In her oversized white nightshirt and hair slightly damp from the shower, she sat at her writing desk reading over a letter that was months old but always kept on her person.

The dim light of the gas lamp and the refreshing night breeze from the open window was a relaxing contrast to what was blinding daylight that plagued the land for nearly a century. She sighed happily as she read the letter and pondered how she should respond. Then the air in the room stirred and she felt a presence that was familiar, but not whom she would expect in the middle of the night. Honestly though, she shouldn’t have been surprised. The way Emet Selch looked at her upon their first meeting, was the way a thirsty man looked at a tall glass of water.

“Shouldn’t the hero of the hour be resting?” Emet Selch pointed out. She didn’t bother turning around but did a quick mental inventory of her gun locations, the one by her writing set being closest, the second closest squeezed between the mattress of her bed.

“Shouldn’t you knock before entering?” The hero said back in a disinterested tone. She took a clean sheet of paper from your writing desk and prepared your ink and quill. The small rimmed glasses on her face slid down and she pushed them back up without thinking.

“Afraid I might catch you doing something unmentionable?” He attempted to joke but it rolled off her. She didn’t care for his humour.

“Are love letters considered such?” She said back and dipped her quill in ink.

There was a small pause before he started again. “Ohhhhhhh? And who is the lucky recipient?" the tone of his voice way to curious for his own good.

The hero set the quill down with an exasperated sigh and spun her swivel chair around, giving him a good once over as if she were an executive sizing up a potential employee. The fact that he didn’t scare her nor impress her was plain on her face while he caught an eyeful of bare legs and shoulder, scarcely covered by her loose white shirt. She knew she looked sexy with the lamplight casting harsh shadows on her lythe body but she didn’t care, Emet Selch was not on her menu.

He stood across the room with his hands casually tucked behind his back and hunched over as he was wont to do. Oh how tempting it was to march up to him and straighten him out, slouching was her pet peeve and the reason she wore corsets and stiff leather bodices.

"Before I answer that, where are your manners Solus. Zos. Galvus.” She drawled out his full name. “You come into a ladies room in the middle of the night with nary an offering?”

He raised a brow and gave an innocent, as much as an Ascian was capable of, smile. “Ah, you know the imperial protocols. Forgive me.” and then he snapped his fingers. In his hands appeared a box of fine chocolates and bottle of wine. “Will these suffice?”

”Imperial or not its uncouth for a man to visit a lady without gifts.” She chided and took off her glasses.

He handed the items to her as she set the bottle on the desk and settled the chocolates in her lap, smiling when she saw the Garlean label. Eager fingers helped themselves to the first piece. With the smooth rich taste on her tongue she gestured for the man to sit down on the bed, the only other place that was comfortable at the moment. He gave a small bow as he did just so.

“The letter is for my daughter.” The Hero said simply, eating another piece.

He gave her an odd look. “Our hero is a mother?“ he asked carefully. His face showing obvious surprise.

She grabbed the wine bottle of the desk and walked over to your dining table where your glasses lay and popped the cork as she poured two flutes of wine. The Ascian’s eyes followed her carefully. "She is 8 years old and lives in Ishgard with her god parents.” and then she handed a flute to him and sampled your own. The crisp taste was a nice pairing with the chocolate. “I send letters to her often and don’t consider my being trapped in the 1st a good excuse for shirking that. When this is all over with, I will see her again and share with her all my adventures.”

”You hail from Ishgard then?” Emet Asked.

She had to laugh at that question and pointed to herself. “Please! Do I look like I hail from a place as stuck up as that?”

He gave a small apologetic wave.

”I hail from Gridania and so does my daughter.”

“Need I ask about the father?” Emet asked as he sipped his own glass.

The lady shrugged casually. “Nothing much to say there, he’s been out of the picture for a while.” And with that she flopped herself back down into the chair.

“A failed marriage?” He prodded.

“Are you just making conversation or are you seriously interested in that story?” She scrutinized with obvious disdain. It was rude to pry to deep into a women’s business.

“I thought I should take an opportunity to get to know our Hero, foster some sort of understanding and common ground if you will.” He smiled as he finished his glass and then stood up to refill it and then curteously walked over and refilled hers before sitting back down. She have a small nod at him for that and continued.

“Let me then ask you first.” She dared. “Considering that you were also married at one point in time, Did you love the Empress?”

He didn’t need to think on it. “She had her charm as well as her uses. She was a impeccable lady, passionate, demanding, devoted…..”

“That’s not answering the question.” she pointed out.

“I suppose I did, though it wouldn’t be what most people would call conventional or romantic. We enjoyed our time together and our shared passions but in the end it was rather political. I needed a strong women to lead the empire and mother my children and my decision on wives was rather on the pragmatic side.” He explained.

She gave a small off hand gesture. “Fair enough.”

“It’s your turn.” he pointed out as he reclined on the bed, stretching is long body out on your duvet and tucking his arms behind his head.

For a moment she wondered how honest she should be with him. It was really none of his business but she wanted him to have nothing to use as ammo against her later on. So she settled for complete and utter truth. “My Ex Husband was a good man, a hard worker, decent fellow…but he could never please me, despite all the promises he made. He was so caught up in always trying to make it big, strike it rich that he perpetually ignored me our entire 10 year marriage. After my daughter was born, I just couldn’t take it anymore. I was pulling the weight of three people in the family, his job, mine and taking care of my baby. And when I explained to him how I was feeling he kept feeding my one liners like: I promise tomorrow will be better. It was never better, he knew how he was treating me and figured if he fed me enough lies I’d just become complacent. It backfired on him. I took my child and the clothes on my back and left. He wasn’t a bad person but god was he a shite husband.”

That got a raised brow from the Ascian. “That was a exceptionally candid answer….”

“Satisfied enough to change the subject?” She asked with a hint of anger.

“If you wish.” He waved his hand in the air. “But I just gave you some rather sensitive information, can you not offer me something similar in return?”

“Sure but not in regards to my lackluster love life.” she laughed.

He rolled onto his side and rested his head on palm. “Something entirely different then. When we first met in the crystarium, Admittedly i tried to probe your aether and you effectively pushed back and cut me off. That is no small feat as most people would not recognize if someone were invading their aetherical aura.”

Oh yes, she remembered. When he first revealed himself in the crystarium he had mentally sized her up. His yellow eyes damn near staring holes through her very soul. She had felt it plain as day, like a pressure over your entire body. It was an annoying feeling so she shot it right back to him, all the while sending him the telepathic message: back the fuck off.

“My echo ability, aside from seeing memories of others is the retention of memories from my past forms.” You easily admitted. “One of which was a very powerful mage by the name of Lucyna. She was a soldier for a very prolific army and had several arcane abilities not limited to sensing the unseen. Though I choose not to use magic in my current life it wouldn’t be a far cry for me to do it again channeling her memories and abilities.”

“How deep do those memories go?” He asked with a straight face but just for a split second something changed ever so slightly. His thin eyebrows arching in surprise as something seemed to cross his mind but he quickly fixed his expression.

The hero gave him a coy look. “Oh please do you think i’d tell YOU that of all people?”

He gave a sly chuckle. “Can you blame me for trying?”

A half empty glass forced her to refill it. “Tell me something of equal value then.”

"You’ll have to be more specific dear.” He said.

“Oh I don’t know…” She sighed as she offered to refill his glass again, feeling her own drink now warming her body and loosening the tongue. “I could ask your favorite color but I think the answer is obvious judging by your current attire. Or I could ask you about your favorite food but I suppose those things don’t matter to a Ascian…..or your favorite hobbies other than spying and plotting….”

“You’re babbling hero.”

“I’m getting drunk sweety, don’t interrupt.” She scolded him as if he were a child.

“You truly have no fear do you?” He asked in a amused tone. A Hyur scolding the emperor of Garlemald of all things! He could have had her executed for the slight if he were still on the throne. Not that he would have, that sort of bravery was a turn on for him. Instead he would have tried to conquer her, as he had done before with other strumpets who showed attitude.

“Of you? No.” She stood over him and smirked.

“Dare I ask why?"

"One, You’re too curious about me to kill me and Two, I’ve dealt with your great grandson. He is far more terrifying than anything I have ever faced in this world or the source. Third…..Is a secret.” she smiled oh so sweetly.

“I suppose I should apologize for that as i’ve not had a big influence in either Zenos or Varis’s lives.” Emet admitted sadly.

“Well technically you are supposed to be dead…Do you have any idea how much trouble that Great Grand kid of yours has given me? He was well deserving of the spanking I gave him.”

“Knowing him he would have enjoyed it.’

She shuddered at the thought but admitted, “He probably did.”

“But do I sense a bit of fondness mixed in there?” Emet teased.

“Absolutely not.”

The Ascian’s face softened as he looked her over. “You amuse me Hero.”

She wasnt sure how to answer that but the way he looked at her was nothing short of flirtatious. “Yay for me.”

A white gloved hand suddenly grabbed her wrist and pulled her down onto the bed. She landed flat on top of her Ascian Visitor, face to face and mouths so close if she had puckered up you would have been kissing him. Her head spun for a moment with the wine and when she realized the positition she was in, her cheeks lit up. She fought to keep her poker face on. One of his hands snaked across her lower back keeping her pinned to him and the other one rested on her bare thigh.

“What is the third reason I fail to evoke any terror in you Hero?” He breathed against her mouth, eyes half lidded and the ever so smug half smile on his face. If he was going to try to play her like a fiddle she were more than happy to throw it back in his face. A warrior, mother, gunner, savior of the world she was but she was certainly not an easy conquest.

She smiled as sweet as she could muster and bent to reach his ear, whispering,“ I have a secret weapon….”

“Do tell.” Emet cooed as his hand slipped further up her bare leg and stopped suddenly at the contraption hugging her upper thigh. Oh, a derringer belt. He heard the telltale click of a hammer being pulled back and felt something metallic and cold press against his jaw.

“I’ve got guns….lots of them…and i’m sure they’re bigger than yours.” The Hero joked as he put his hands up to fain innocence. She sat up and straddled him while keeping the small single bullet pistol aimed at his face.

He rolled his eyes. “Oh come now do you think shooting me will be of any avail?”

“No but it’s a inconvenience to you and will force you to find another body. Frankly I’d do it just to annoy you!” She smirked. “Besides, I’m a mature woman with mature tastes so don’t get fresh with me.”

“What a coincidence.” He smirked right back, something playful in his eyes. “I’m a mature man with mature tastes more than adequate to satisfy women like you.”

She visibly cringed and had to ask. “Do you even function in that way?”

He rolled his eyes at her and huffed. “Did I not just say I sired children?”

“Maybe you grew them in test tubes like you do these bodies of yours.”

“Zodiarks mercy…..” he groaned. “While that could be done…some things are best achieved the old fashion way!”

She had to pause and stare the man she sat on to consider it. "Emet Selch, you’re good eye candy but wayyyyy too old for me and i never thought I would have to say that because usually its the other way around considering im no spring chicken.”

“Oh is a few millennia too much for you?” He teased. “Think of all the experience.”

“Well…it takes the term grey fox to a new level…” She agreed but then shook her head. “I’ll pass on that. I’ve had my share of genocidal aristocrats.”

“What a cold woman you are.” Emet scowled sarcastically and conceded, his hands dropping to his chest in exasperation.

“That’s your type though apparently.” She surmised as she hoped off of him and opened her door, ushering him to leave.

He got the message and stood up, giving a small bow as he headed out but turned to her before leaving. “Come seek me out when you have time Hero. I’d like to talk to you again.”

“Annnnd If I refuse?“ She dared to ask.

He stood up to his full height, staring down at her so you could feel the weight of his presence and power. Something in his eyes glinted as he towered over her small hyuran fram and in a tone that was menacing said, "I’m a very patient man. I could wait for eons if need be. Something about what and how said it made her shiver a little and she watched him carefully as he turned away and vanished into thick wisps of black Aether.

When she closed the door, she let go the shiver and audibly gasped. All the tension she were secretly holding onto released as she put her derringer back into the leg holster and glanced at the bed Emet had been lounging on. She mentally high fived herself for being able to act so casually during what normally would have been a “interesting” situation.

“Who is this guy?….” She asked herself as she searched her own memories. Had there ever been anyone like him before in her life or any of her shards?

Though the memories afforded her were numerous not all the information they contained was useful. Sometimes it was simply the memory of a phrase, a name, a place that had no crucial meaning, and other times it was faces of people long since passed. The name nor face of Emet Selch had no meaning to her and yet there was an air of familiarity about him. She tried to dig a bit deeper in her mind for the answer but hit a mental wall, there was simply nothing to be found. The night was dragging on and she had bigger fish to fry and more light wardens to slay. So the puzzle of Emet Selch was one she could ponder on another night.

[transcredwaters]

20 for the wol meme!

"When in the story was their highest point? When were they at their lowest?"

Ohh boy.

Might well start with the highest point; I'd say probably post-ARR, right after Praetorium. What with having Thancred returned safe - something he was desperate for, cited in another entry right after the Lahabrea reveal;

"[. . . ]There was no way. I knew Thancred, and the man who laughed in our faces was not Thancred. The man who ripped off that hood and proved he was the one who betrayed us all was not Thancred. The man with the cruel grin was. Not. Thancred.

He will never be Thancred.

And by Nophica's grace, I will get him back, even if I have to die trying.

I will get him back.

It doesn't matter to me what it'll take."

Post-ARR was also, despite stock full of primal fights and it's own share of agony, probably where he felt the safest. He let his guard down, even. Like, before ARR, there was the incident that led to the loss of his older siblings, Oh'dax and Shele. in the 1.0 area of the story he was in total isolation, spent the calamity alone, and was scared. Frightened. Lonely, really.

ARR obviously had . All That leading up to Prae.

I feel it's also important to note he saw his family the most in this time period - as he starts distancing themselves from him post-dragonsong, insisting it's the only way to keep them safe. Sorry for a cut from another entry, I just thought it was cute and wanted to share- from when his father brought along his younger brother and daughter to meet up with him.;

"It feels like it has been many winters since I saw them last, and I felt I was bursting with joy when I first caught sight of them. Poppa said I ran so fast he couldn't even see me, and I barreled into Cherie'li to embrace him, before lifting Dhael into my arms.

Oh, it has been so long since I've heard her giggle so joyously. I swear my heart swelled when I heard it, and I near cried knowing she was even here. . . That I was able to hold her in my arms again."

Stuff starts going down from there, and, well, I guess that leads up to the lowest point. So. Some shb spoilers below the cut . And prepare for a verrry long ramble because I think about this often. Also putting the cut bc this post is long enough already.

If that intro to this part doesn't make it clear; 5.3-6.0 are his lowest points. He thought it was HW, right after the Vault, for a while; Zenos beating his ass brought him down some pegs. But good lord by Shadowbringers he's already ready to burst at the seams, and then just. . . Everything falls apart.

This may sound a bit messy as I'm not the best at recounting events, but weh.

Emet's a pretty big part of it all. I've rambled about it before (not here, though) about the whole Shard ordeal and how Emet would twist him around and cause him to feel like he's been thrown for an Entire Loop. And he's so fucking conflicted about it; outright stating that he doesn't know whether to embrace him as an old friend, stab him through with his lance, or just leave and never allow him to bother him anymore.

The shard thing inofitself really fucks with his head. Finding out about Amaurot, the Final Days, the truth about Hydaelyn and Zodiark. . . By the time the Hades fight crops up he's ready to give up.

And boy . After Emet dies it's just agony. O'miz never. Asked for this. He was just some silly Miqo'te boy in the lancer's guild when he first started his adventure, the last thing he expected was to be seen as some Warrior, to lose friends, so on and so forth.

And those last words.

"Remember us. Remember that we once lived."

He'll never forget that. Ever, for sure. After the fight, once he's brought G'raha to safety and presumes he's alone he collapses. And that's not even the last thing the First can throw at him !

The Exarch crystalizing is the breaking point. That's when he finally shatters. Even once they're safely back on the Source and G'raha is okay O'miz cuts his hair in a meltdown after already going out and getting his ass kicked in the same meltdown. He gets a huge scar, then. And he picks up DRK after returning to the Source. Suilosaux grows bitter, cursing him for killing Emet - his partner - and cursing him under the assumption that O'miz killed Fray. At this point Suil doesn't know that's untrue, but he's got nothing but distrust for the guy after Emet. He refuses to let Miz near Sidurgu or Rielle unless they're training, and it takes ages for him to finally warm up to Miz, to trust him, but it isn't a cure-all for his guilt.

That's a breaker, really, of it all. His guilt has ramped up so high, and he's just exhausted, he wants a break, he wants to go home or run away and never look back. He can't keep doing this, it all hurts, it's all digging into him and breaking him down and ripping him limb from limb and he's had enough of it.

He's numb by endwalker.

I don't know nearly enough to go into detail. I only know about one group who shows up, and I still can't formulate enough thoughts to be cohesive. But after it's all over, he starts working to collect himself. Hopefully by 6.1 and beyond he can start getting better again, right ?

[astroellipse]

hhhhhhhghghhh i hate heavensward man i don’t wanna do the vault :(

I’m already tearing up this is so stupid!!! One of the main reasons I’m replaying is to try and figure out why people think HW is good but! It’s even worse the second time around! WHY would Aymeric do something so reckless? He doesn’t even make a contingency plan! It’s ridiculous! Goddammit man. And the foreshadowing. Fucking Haurchefant. I’ve only grown more attached to him this time around, especially because I’ve made a point to talk to every NPC for extra dialogue. He says, right now before The Vault, “My arm will not falter; my shield will not break. I promise you: we shall prevail!” He’s half right. And half literally wrong... the direct reference to his broken shield... this is evil. This is just so so bad. I’m going to sob like a baby a second time when he dies again. I love this dude.

Yes this is me procrastinating. I’m not sure if there’s another time after this when he’s loaded into the overworld. He and that moment in The Vault are perhaps the best part of this stupid expac. Genuinely feels like SB took a bunch of the core ideas but gave them actual depth and made them Good. Or at least Better. At least it all made sense for the most part. And had a villain I had literally any interest in. I do not care about the Heavens Ward. Ok I care about Zephirin but that’s just because I do continue to want his head on a pike. But the rest of them? And Thordan? Completely uninterested. They really should have expanded on Ishgard’s religion more, earlier, maybe instead of some of the silly bullshit we go through on our journey with Estinien and Ysayle. Like, they set it up later, which lets me see what they were trying to do now, but when I played the first time I didn’t understand that Thordan was trying to use his peoples’ faith to turn himself into a primal until I was crossing blades with him.

I just. This sucks. After seeing how good the story can be this undeniably is bad. They should have leaned into the WoL being a tool, because they absolutely are for this entire expac. The reason I love Haurchefant so much is because he actually gives a damn about the WoL as his friend, and not just a capable fighter. That entire journey before could have been so good if the story had at least attempted to create/expand some sort of emotional connection between the WoL and Estinien/Alphinaud, maybe Ysayle though for how quickly she becomes irrelevant it wouldn’t have mattered much. They had the foundation there! They put that seed of doubt in your mind, and then never do anything with it. I swear, they don’t touch on it much in the later expacs either. I’ve talked about this though, how there isn’t really anywhere for that thread to go without serious story implications if the answer is anything other than “I choose to do this, serving as a tool is my will.”

My personal answer, for both of my WoLs, is “I enjoy this.” Much more fun to play around with in my head, that secret selfishness. Both of them could care less about the fate of the star, as long as they’re still around to fight bigger and badder enemies, currently to destroy Zenos and hopefully Zodiark and Hydaelyn along with him. Granted Doran does share a will with Secret, so it’s really just her that wants this. Made ShB really fun, when she was struggling with actually starting to care about the world and her friends, since they... at least sort of appeared to care for her, as a person and not just a weapon. Will also be fun with Doran, who struggles with distinguishing himself from Secret, even as a shard of her, willing himself to care for those around him, to take more than just a passing interest in the world. Although with some knowledge from Secret, he’s seeing some stuff from a different perspective. The big one, currently, is Aymeric’s ridiculous plot here. Where Secret blamed solely herself for Haurchefant’s death, Doran also sees that it was Aymeric’s recklessness that got them into the situation in the first place. He is also, I think, a bit more prepared to accept his death as what Haurchefant wanted, which would give Secret some measure of peace.

Since I know I’ll look back on these eventually anyways, I’ll explain shortly. Secret Dusk is my primary WoL. Doran Stokes is one of seven souls joined to her from a past Rejoining, in addition to Ardbert’s and of course her own soul originating in the Source. Secret has been doing a hell of a lot of reflecting in between action (me writing about her and reading through old quest logs, and doing dark knight stuff), and... sort of unconsciously started to relive things. The world recreated within herself, from the beginning of her journey though a little different, for one of her shards to experience. And Doran, being the first to be rejoined to her, was the lucky winner.

He is, of course, deeply attached to Secret, and is delighted to be able to interact with this world as she did, even if he’s having some separate experiences. He retains some knowledge from Secret, with just enough missing for things to still be dramatic to him. Both Secret and Doran exemplify things I like to imagine of Azem, Secret being primarily their analytical and accommodating nature, and Doran being a carefree traveler. Both are reckless in equal measure, willingly or no, though Doran leans into this a bit more. He keeps up with 3 classes, all DPS: Bard, Red Mage, and Dragoon. All have the capacity to make him fly off the edge of arenas which I think is funny. All have a penchant for wandering.

Bard is his, I suppose, canon class, or at least his most favored one. Dragoon he picked up simply because he started in Gridania and it was there, and kept up with it in HW because when in Rome and all that. And Red Mage is there because he wanted to try his hand at magic, though... I think I’ve realized that I just don’t like playing casters. At least not in solo play. Way too squishy. Love playing DRG in a dungeon and the tank overpulls and dies and suddenly *I* have the aggro, so I pop arm’s length and bloodbath and AoE my heart out while praying the healer can keep up. Feels even better on the off-chance it works!

That was not a short explanation at all. Oh well. Guess I’ll go shower so I can prepare myself to sob about fictional men.