#thanks shadowbringers

[newbeginningsffxiv]

Now for the last set I did to bid farewell to Shadowbringers. The introduction of my main character Tavin Croft in all of the relic armors at 80. 

[ruuari]

ffxiv environment prints now on both my bigcartel and etsy ✨

[ bigcartel ] [ etsy ]

[octakiseron]

the dying gasp

[tritoch]

in general trying to write a fully canon-compliant wol, as i conceive it, is an interesting project because the wol's life involves such a staggering amount of direct interpersonal violence it is almost beyond comprehension. the only people in the real world who did anything comparable are like, certain executioners for totalitarian states, and that's obviously a very different form of violence.

and like obviously combat in FFXIV should not in any way be taken as a 1:1 with real world violence, not least because the game repeatedly points to the idea that combat can in some sense be a joyous and glorious form of personal expression (as with ravana, susano, zenos, etc.), which doesn't really square with the reality of doing violence. but to even begin to conceive of a character who's capable of doing what the WoL does from ARR on and trying to take it somewhat seriously means basically making an extremely detached killing machine, who's fine using those skills for any rando willing to call the hit they're hiring you for a "quest".

it ends up dovetailing really nicely with the games as written, though; you start ARR being like "i am an instrument of violence directed by others :)" and not talking much or ever registering your own thoughts on anything, because who cares? you're a violence-doing machine. and then one of your friends gets mind-controlled and you gotta fight a might-makes-right fascist and you meet multiple people who think you personally are a really cool person with inherent value in their own right just by being a person and it's like, hm. maybe there are other ways to live. and that parallels really nicely with DRK in HW, and then you and alphinaud deciding that you are tired of endless sacrifices in the name of progress and you are going to save estinien, and then the WoL getting to walk into stormblood having really consciously chosen this fight rather than letting someone else choose for them.

obviously there are a lot of stories you can tell with your WoL but to me this is a big part of why my approach to it necessarily revolves primarily around violence and regret. you spend the core game and two expansions becoming a terrible angel of death and then get teleported to another world where you learn that some people literally consider you a psychopomp who escorts the dead to their final rests. then in the next expansion you meet someone who was unfortunate enough to be on the other end of things during your implacable killing machine days. THEN you accidentally cause the flower that symbolizes grief to be invented. the wol's whole life is haunted by overwhelming grief (mostly that of other people) and terrible violence (mostly their own).

[necromeowncy]

Shadowbringers plot with an elezen WoL.

[whatthegorf]

G'raha Tia at your service!

[rihlltalk]

i'm just. huaaaagh. the exarch when he first realizes that he's losing feeling in his arm as it crystallizes. the panic he must have felt. was he prepared for this eventuality when he bound himself to the tower? did he immediately think of a solution, a workaround?

the exarch having to study golems and golem manipulation in preparation to learn to move his arm. him having to conduct all of his research one-handed, between the scraps of literature salvaged from the flood and what information lies in the archives of the crystal tower.

learning how to manipulate aether as to control his arm. trying to find the right balance between too much and too little force. using too much the first time he successfully manages to do so and his arm shoots up into the air like a scholar eager to answer their professor's query. gradually learning to move his arm in a way that looks normal and not too stilted or inhuman, constantly watching himself and the reactions of the people around him to see how if they've noticed. (they can't notice. he can't let them see.)

learning more finesse so as to curl crystal fingers around the staff with just enough pressure to keep it in his grip - not too much or he'd crush it in two, not too little or it'd slip out of his grasp. perfecting the motion to raise and lower his arm to tap the point of his staff on the ground, needing to figure out the required amount of force again - too little and neither arm nor staff would budge, too much and the staff would shoot from his fingers.

needing to keep enough aether in reserve to be able to manipulate his body when he was away from the tower. fighting through exhaustion the first time he made this mistake, when it had been too long since he was near the tower and he was too tired and his arm drops heavy and limp to his side. fighting to find a second wind and enough focus to move his arm again so as to not worry the people around him.

becoming more accustomed to the practice of weaving aether to move his arm for him that it becomes nearly automatic, nearly subconscious, but never quite getting used to having to do it, to not move his arm on his own accord. catching himself in moments of idleness reminiscing about the past, when he could still control his arm himself, when he could still feel. being touched, or touching with his non-dominant hand, the hand still made of flesh and bone, and wishing that he could still feel such sensations on his crystal hands.

the exarch trying very hard not to think about what parts of him the crystal would claim next, or how much time he had before it claimed him completely.

[finalrespite]

Not sure if this has been shared here or not yet, but. You might've seen the Starbird cameo in TS4 but there is some more "perfectly normal" kids' art slipped in as well.

(From SummonerOfTime on Twitter)

update: the artist is yuxingart (site)

[yloiseconeillants]

s/o to @mythandral for letting me live my milf nimue dreams at long last

[newbeginningsffxiv]

Part two of my final send off for Shadow Bringers, thanks for everything. 

[elizabethrobertajones]

Urianger, looking fondly at Ryne: She is so brave and resourceful... Verily, she inherits that from thee.

Thancred: She's so beautiful and clever - she gets that from YOU.

WoL: Can you please stop, we're eating.

[akirakirxaa]

For the pose game

F1 Emet/Akira

Akira doesn't know how her life went exactly this far off the rails.

[lilas]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Spread the self-love💗(even if it's unfinished!!! i'd still love to see some of your fave work :> )

<3 ty beloved!! If anything this just makes me think I really need to finish some things lol

Troll Watching (avi’li and erenville being strangers and making awkward jokes)

Avi’li nods along to Erenville’s words. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen a mushroom ooze before. Then again, he’s never paid much attention to mushrooms when they’re not on his plate or in his bowl. Do the giant mushroom men in Gridania count? But Erenville has him curious, so he asks, “And why do they do this?”

“It’s a way of relieving water pressure that builds up.”

“Like crying?”

Erenville considers, “I suppose that’s a fair comparison, though a little sad to think about a fungus crying bloody tears.”

“Certainly not the only one amongst us.” Ah.

It was meant as a joke but Avi’li’s words didn’t have that pep or punch to them, weighed down by a smidge too much truth. Erenville shifts, unsure how to interpret the “joke” so Avi’li laughs. Too soft to fully shake off the awkwardness, but it serves as a nice deflection.

“First you’re a frog expert, now you’re a mushroom expert?”

“Knowing a few facts doesn’t make an expert.”

Untiled/Dog Days (wip; surprise! avi’li adopted ninja dogs and he’s making it yugiri’s problem too)

Yugiri knew leaving her home would lead her to strange, incredible places. Thus far that remains true, though few things in life prepare you for a former flame (a handsome, still burning flame despite herself) returning to the Enclave with three small dogs in tow. Three dogs also inexplicably trained in the ninjutsu arts.

She watches the dogs, all at attention and watching her expectantly. They are well trained. She looks up at Avi’li for an explanation.

“They followed me from Mount Rokkon,” Avi’li answers, but stops himself. Yugiri’s eyes narrow, waiting.

Avi’li isn’t one to shy away from hard truths, but now he casts his eyes to the side, silvery strands of hair obscuring his gaze. Hesitating, Yugiri thinks, because his words might hurt her.

He shifts his weight between his feet, finally saying, “Their master is dead.”

By my hand, Yugiri finishes in her head.

“Hancock says her name was Yozakura.” Yugiri’s breath hitches. “I thought, both of you being shinobi, you may have known her.”

“Oh,” Yugiri breathes, “Yozakura…”

Light (wip; avi’li’s experience swallowing pure light aether)

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Not even the air tastes the same. What scant remnants of aether remain in this world burn to nothing in his lungs. He hesitates on every exhale. Light singes the tip of his tongue, aches behind his teeth, looking for a release.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

The distant shouts of children reach Avi’li’s ears from where he sits crumpled on the floor, back pressed firm against the wall in a tucked away corner of Sweetsieve. From here, he can at least enjoy the rain.

It takes more effort than he cares to admit to raise his head to the sky, green eyes narrowed against the soft pattering of rain. The Crystarium feels more alive when it rains. People are drawn out, marvel at the clouds, the cold in the air, the water from the sky, all novelties where once there was only oppressive Light. Avi’li fears, beyond his own wellbeing, the consequences of the Light escaping, that this rain might be the last that the First ever sees.

Breathe in…

For now, the rain is a small salve, a relief from the relentless prickling of Light inside of him, like a million dull knives across his skin, his heart, his ribs. It’s maddening, this sensation. His eyes slide shut.

Breathe out…

Azem (wip; avi’li asks themis about azem)

“Looking back I should have realized they would spare no effort in preventing the natural outcome. If it is in their power to relieve or prevent suffering, they will do so. That island had been evacuated of course, though the land and the homes of those people would have been entirely lost.” Themis shares a smile with Avi’li that feels like a secret. Avi’li leans in closer. “When I asked, they told me it was to protect the island’s delicious grapes, unique in their taste, and nothing more besides. Yet I suspect the true cause was to protect those homes loved by the people there.”

Avi’li smiles at that. He knows, by way of visions from Azem’s crystal, the truth in Apollo’s own words as remembered by Emet-Selch. That all that effort truly was for grapes, grapes that held enough meaning with the people, the land, to be worthy of preservation and protection all on their own.

“Why do you think they would lie about that?” Avi’li asks.

That gives Themis pause, and he taps on his chin. “Azem has a quiet sense of humor. It could be they were being coy as a tease.”

“Are they often like that? Coy.”

“Not at all. They are, in my opinion, refreshingly straightforward.”

Then why, Avi’li keeps this to himself, can you not accept this answer?

New Feelings (unpublished; avi’li crushing on aymeric and haurchefant having fun at his expense)

“Pray allow me privy to your thoughts?”

Avi’li answers with a shrug, “Thinking about Aymeric.”

“The Lord Commander?” Haurchefant raises an eyebrow. “What about him?”

“Ay’anno, just thinkin’ about him.”

“Did he request another meeting?”

“Wouldn’t you be the one to know that?”

Haurchefant purses his lips, “Then what?”

“Just…he’s an interesting man.” Avi’s eyes turn back towards the ceiling. “Just all…admirable and tall and collected…that stuff.”

“Uh huh.”

Avi’li frowns at the tone he hears and rolls onto his side to properly face Haurchefant, who’s trying and horrifically failing at hiding a crooked grin. “What?”

“What about?”

“Why’re you smiling like a spriggan?”

“Like a spriggan? Are you implying my teeth are anything similar to a creature who gnaws on rocks for a living?”

[sebille]

It's my professional opinion that it's a shame we don't talk enough about how there were TWO individuals in post-SB and ShB that were integral to saving the world and the WoL.

One was, obviously, AU!G'raha.

The other was Zenos.

I have never thought of it that way but you're totally correct. Oh my god.

I guess it's not talked about because people believe that in the end he did it for himself, and not the wol. I'd argue that he's pretty protective of them and doesn't want to see them hurt - considering that one Fandaniel scene where Zenos treatens him over almost burning the WOL. But idk if people would agree with me on that.

[dainesanddaffodils]

Shadowbringers [bass boosted]

[yloiseconeillants]

I closed the lid of her coffin very gently and burst into a tumult of sobbing that contained both pity for his other victims and also a dreadful anguish to know I, too, was one of them.

Angela Carter, "The Bloody Chamber"