#{ Vauthry: Do you worse }

[voidsentprinces]

Vauthry: Ha! Is that all you can do, villains!? BEFORE MY MIGHT AND MY JUDGMENT YOU ARE ALL FOOLS! Warrior of Light: Oh you haven't seen shit yet. I have an ace up my sleeve! Vauthry: HA! WHAT BLUSTER! I AM RIGHTOUSNESS! AND RIGHTOUSNESS! WILL PREVAIL! Warrior of Light: Last chance, Vauthry! Surrender or I unleash Hell upon this Mount. Vauthry: DO YOUR WORST, VILLAIN! Warrior of Light: Alright, don't say I didn't warn you! LALI-HO! Vauthry: ... Warrior of Light: ... Vauthry: ... Warrior of Light: ... Vauthry: I am sorry was something suppose to happen? Warrior of Light: ... Vauthry: HA! PATHETIC! I KNEW IT WAS A BLU--wait what is that rumbling? Giott: ARE YE STONE DEAF YA HALFWIT DO YE NOT KNOW HOW TA GREET YA NEIGHBOR!? Zumutt: WOULDN'T KNOW HIS ASS FERM A HOLE IN THE GROUND WITH THEM MANNERS! Beott: DON' EVEN KNOW 'OW TA LALI-HO, Do 'E DA NO BEARD!? Rakitt: RUDENESS SHALL NOT BE WELCOME IN THIS LAND! BRING EM DOWN FERM IS GUADY THRONE AND TEACH 'IM A PROPER DWARF WELCOME! Xinitt: BY WATTS HAMMER! DIS ONE IS SLOW AS A RAIL WITH A ROCK UP ITS BUM! Vauthry: What is this!? GET AWAY FROM ME! EATERS! EATERS THE DWARVES GET THE DWARVES! NO! NO THEY'RE EVERYWHERE! GET AWAY! GET AWAY! AAAAAAHHHH! Warrior of Light: Fucking warned you.

[mxdotpng]

twirling adaline around in my mind. her death would ruin their lives.

[minarcana]

[snow-system-wol]

Fear and codependency and yet a bit of softness in the early days of retirement. (<1k)

(Warning for discussion of past suicidal intent)

Ao3

S'ria hesitantly shifted away, putting some space between himself and G'raha. He'd been cuddled against G'raha's side while G'raha read, with an arm keeping him close. G'raha seemed to have become distracted from his reading at some point though, distantly focused on something else, and…

“Raha, you were suddenly holding me way too tightly.”

“Oh! Forgive me, I did not realize. Are you…?”

“I'm fine.” S'ria peered up at him. “What's happening in there?”

G'raha did not answer immediately, breaking eye contact and staring off towards the wall. When he did, his tone was something far more somber.

“...You scare me sometimes.”

S'ria flinched. “I – because of Fray? Or? I would never hurt you.”

G'raha's eyes went wide and he turned back towards S'ria. “Gods, no. I am not afraid of you. I simply fear… for you, sometimes.” He sighed. “‘Tis merely paranoia, I know, but on the bad days – on the bad days, you disappear into the bath for too long or go alone into the woods and I feel… afraid.”

S'ria slid down onto his side, changing from sitting up to lying on the floor. He shifted until the pillows supported him more comfortably and laid his head on G'raha's thigh – tilting his head enough for his hair to hide some of his face.

“What are you talking about?” The slight tremble in S'ria's voice suggested it was a weak protest instead of a question.

“After… after everything that happened in Garlemald back then, Alphinaud privately spoke with me. He had said there was something that I should know to best assist, even if he felt it was wrong to tell me himself.”

“Alphinaud. He – he didn't tell you about… when we were in Eulmore…?”

“No, nothing of the sort. I would have asked him to stop if he had.”

S'ria relaxed from the bolt of terror that had seized him. “I would not think he'd say something unprompted but… good. Good. What did he tell you?”

“I… May I touch your hair?” At S'ria's tiny nod, G'raha began gently petting him. “He spoke to me of the time after you fought Vauthry, when I was with Emet-Selch.”

“...oh.”

G'raha shook his head. “Thancred mentioned it to me once, actually – I think meant to please or fluster me over my feelings – that you'd been ready to charge off to save me all by yourself.” He smiled bitterly. “‘Tis not as though you would not protect me, even if I felt too low in worth at those moments, but even then I had… my doubts, regarding Thancred’s story. It did not feel correct.”

S'ria curled up tighter, draping his tail soothingly over his own leg. “Alphinaud is perceptive. I hoped he didn't understand, for his own sake, but I'd also been damn sure he and Alisaie did.”

G'raha's hand paused in S'ria's hair. “So… ‘twas true. Do not misunderstand, I am not here to judge you for it. The idea of it terrifies me.”

S'ria's tail bristled, leaving his leg to lash behind him. “Are we going to keep dancing around it? Yes, Alphinaud is right, my plan was to kill myself before I fully turned. If they hadn't seen me moments before I would've left, then… yeah.”

G'raha's only response was a slow, careful exhale.

S'ria's eyes narrowed. “You don't – you don't have to treat me like some sort of constant danger to myself. I wasn't in a good place, but I just…I just couldn't think of anything else to do that wouldn't be worse! If I'd turned and killed people, or if the Scions followed me to put me down and either died or were turned themselves – I didn't want anyone else to get hurt.” S'ria sighed. “I won't lie to you. I didn't want to live. But I wouldn't have ever tried to go through with it if I wasn't on the verge of turning into a feral godsdamned beast.”

G'raha hummed anxiously, gently prying S'ria's claws away from his upper arms. “Love, I do trust you. I trust that you would speak to me if it was that bad. I just have almost lost you so many times that I cannot help the anxiety – gods. You are owed your privacy when you need it, I shan't intrude.”

S'ria laughed, a tiny stressed thing. “Would it be bad for me to admit that I'm the same? I always try to focus on something when you go into town so that I don't panic if you're gone longer than you should be.” He paused. “Is this unhealthy?”

“Codependent to a fault?” G'raha returned a chuckle. “Most likely. Are we not owed that, though, as we recover? ‘Tis not without cause.”

S'ria uncurled his hands, trying to shake off the residual trembling of a stressful conversation. “I'm sure it'll… get better? Once we spend more time out here where it's safe and quiet? It'll be okay.”

“I am not certain when our minds are going to get the hint that we have retired from that life, but hopefully it shall be soon.”

S'ria nodded and turned to sprawl out on the pillow-covered carpet – in the cottage that was theirs, the home that was separate from the world and still safe for their friends to visit, the anonymous life built on the outskirts of a small village.

He was sure it'd all properly sink in eventually.

[c0rpseductor]

tbh i'm thinking again about how i'm gonna approach vauthry in my fic, since i'm going to have to write him very soon.

i'm aleady planning on taking some sizeable liberties since in shadowbringers he's a bit cartoonish, both as a villain and designwise. i don't think it. well. i DO think it's a bad choice in terms of the fact that it's massively fatphobic, but in terms of tone i think a video game can get away with a somewhat absurd and cartoonish hate sink villain a bit more than a novelization, especially when he shows up sparingly. i want to keep a lot of the base tone of shb, but i do plan on morningstar being a little more sober and adult. there's sex in it i don't have to go with the shonen anime stuff if it doesn't work

i can't bring myself to agree with arguments that eulmore was Fine Actually, and in my writing i'm kind of making it worse, so i don't really want to go with a super sympathetic vauthry (although i think there can be, and want there to be, a sort of quiet tragedy to him, given his canon backstory). i Really need vauthry to still be detestable in morningstar because he has to pull double time on hate sink duty so i can pull my dirty little tricks on the reader with emet-selch. emet is getting more positive treatment in morningstar (until he isn't <3) so until such time as he has his little moment vauthry Really has to be terrible.

i've been thinking that rather than his being quite as. i guess juvenile as in canon, throwing tantrums and generally getting the "fat = dumb baby" treatment, i want to work the sort of egotistical aspect of his character from a place of sophisticated condescension (distinct in execution from emet's bitchy rich girl thing). he's supposed to represent the worst of nobility anyway, which is entitlement and a sense of others as being beneath oneself or belonging to an ontologically lesser class. i thought it might be interesting if he has a sort of grudging "respect" for pfeil, but regards him as a rogue asset to be seized moreso than a human being. i think it works very well from the angle of vauthry playing the role of a corrupt king and pfeil in many cases playing the role of a fairytale knight. like yeah of course the bad guy wants lancelot for his own. or whatever idk i dont know as much about arthuriana as i maybe should

i also think there's some running thread between them, like that there's something very similar that they take in different directions - moreso morningstar's as yet immaterial "serious vauthry" than the saturday morning cartoon vauthry of canon, but still, if you just lay out vauthry's story on paper, yknow?

on a meta level vauthry and pfeil are both fat characters from a source narrative that very much condemns and loathes fat bodies, so i think there's a sense of "similar monstrousness" that carries through even in a work intended not to be fatphobic given fic exists inherently in conversation with its source material - some of pfeil's Angst necessarily has to address that he's in a narrative role too small for his body, in a sense. fairytale knights and princes are only ever thin, shonen anime heroes are only ever thin, persephone was thin and remains so in every retelling, basically every one of those hot satan statues, you get the idea. all the motifs i draw on to inform his role-identity carry this expectation of otherworldly bodily perfection and attractiveness. to some extent this is what it means to be commodified in fiction at all. vauthry is still condemned to the same fate as he was before, but pfeil is a fat hero in a retelling of a story where fatness is evil, built on stories of heroes whose beauty is indicative of goodness and whose beauty is considered to lie in their thinness. maybe it's no wonder vauthry is like, "ditch these losers and eat bonbons with me," LMAO. sort of a like...what if solidarity was bad. you know

also, vauthry is Doomed, and pfeil is Fakeout Doomed. vauthry's story couldn't have ended any other way because he was set up to take this exact fall before even being born. even if he had been a good person morally he would have to die because his very existence upholds and hastens the apocalypse. on top of this, the circumstances under which he was raised were...less than ideal, let's say. i still vastly prefer to say that despite everything, INCLUDING the lightwarden shit, vauthry still has agency that he exercises poorly and likely had chances to be a better and kinder person which he rejected, because a narrative in which nothing is anyone's fault and no one has any choice and it all just Happens is boring. (not in the sense of tragedy, where fate and its incursion on autonomy and meaningful choice is a huge element that adds interest, but in the sense of like...if nobody ever decides to do anything and nothing is ever driven by character action it's not a story where the characters participate anymore. what is the point of that.) his ultimate aim was to secure paradise in eulmore, but no wealthy and powerful person's conception of paradise is gonna be equitable or sustainable or anything less than monstrous. also paradise is fake we live in an imperfect world and that's the only thing we get!! deal with it how you like but that's it!! the hero here is a satan allegory so he's gonna tear down your fake ass heaven!! so on and so forth. off topic. point is he's a villain, and by virtue of being a villain in a story with a clearly designated hero, he's doomed as fuck, no matter the circumstances or aims of his villainy, just like emet. sorry man

pfeil is, by contrast, Fakeout Doomed. like vauthry, he didn't really have much of a choice in becoming who he is - heroes don't get to resist the call no matter how hard they fight, and like all WoLs, hydaelyn had her sights on him for since forever because time loop shenanigans and arguably because reincarnation anyway. by virtue of being born, and even before being born, he was already stuck on the path he's on now. it's not kind to him, being on this path, but he can't give up on it because it would bring harm to others and he can't accept that. it's not who he is to shirk social responsibility. if it was, he wouldn't be the hero. but i as the author know that it's not going to kill him, and once he does what he was always meant to do he gets a whole life ahead of him free of my fuckin meddling. there's an end to the story and then pfeil kind of does a vague whatever. not my business. in the end, he escapes.

again, of course neither of them really know this because they don't know they're in a story. only emet kind of has that inkling of meta and it influences how he interacts with pfeil. but i think it's something that pfeil and vauthry might understand about each other sort of subconsciously, or voice it in other terms. vauthry is living a terminal villain's existence, where his choices are die or live and end the world, and pfeil by contrast is a Big Damn Hero, a beacon of hope who barrels toward the impossible light at the end of the tunnel. vauthry wants pfeil on his side because who wouldn't want that? maybe they can escape together. or maybe vauthry's terminal existence will feel that much less empty, with someone who is fated to one day be Real in a way he can never be at his side. heroes always win. (except in tragedies.)

[brineffxiv]

Not quite zombies, but close enough. When do they turn on us?

Now here's the question: are you sensing the Lightwarden, or are you sensing Vauthry himself? I suspect Vauthry has co-opted the power of the Lightwarden somehow...

DUN DUN DUN! The return of the meol!

Are we gonna find out it's people now?

People, right?

SIN EATER!?

Oh my god. Oh my god. That's horrific. Turning people into sin eaters in order to make them into mind-control bread!

I don't know whether to laugh or be sick.

It's both exactly what I suspected and yet somehow worse than if it was straight-up people. I remember Tesleen's transformation. Vauthry is putting people through that for the purpose of engendering mind control susceptibility in the populace.

Yes! You said it Alphinaud! Finally, I can make that fucker pay.

[the-storyteller-and-her-soldiers]

Shadow Bringers: A Different Fate

Okay, so I'm still in the SHB expansion, and let me tell you it's given me a ton of ideas! This is one to make it slightly more light-hearted than one it is! But hopefully, I can convey it all where it makes sense but also not spoil it for those who may want to playthrough it blind! Beware either ahead:

So my s/i was sent to the world of the First to deal with the Flood of Light, while the scions handle the ongoing combat with the Garleans.

It's great for a while, I help many people as I learn how Sin Eaters work.

The common folk comes to view me as a beacon of hope during these never-ending days since I am proof that they can be killed without becoming one.

But not everyone is pleased about the destruction of the beasts, specifically the town of lavish splendor: Eulmore.

I'm lured there by peasants who live defenselessly outside the city, those who are impoverished and frail.

It wasn't their fault and they were happy for my help but they didn't help when Eulmore's military ambushed, overwhelmed, and subdued me.

I'm itching for a fight, to cast fires so hot Ifrit's embers are lukewarm, to tear my scythe through each and every one of these purple pricks. But I know if I die, then the people will have naught when it comes to aiding.

So I'm brought before an abomination worse than the sin-eaters, the mayor of Eulmore: Vauthry.

He's appalled I'd slaughter such beauty and makes it clear he wants to kill me. Yet he sure loves to massage his own ego, and that presents me with a chance for a proposition.

I put on the act that I'm blinded and have been brought to the light and that keeping me alive as a servant would do more to stop others who walk in my footsteps than if I were killed and made into a martyr.

He's hesitant, but as I continue to praise him and present myself as submissive, he comes around.

So I've become a bonded citizen in full service to Lord Vauthry. I'm stripped of my weapons, forced to wear aether inhibitors specially made to stop my black magic, and stripped of my armor.

The job is disgusting and humiliating, even if I am little more than a maid decadent in jeweled dresses...

When I'm not serving, I am shoved in a cell with a young girl named Minfilia.

We bond thoroughly, with me taking the brunt of harassment from Vauthry and his general. While I try to help her focus these powers that she doesn't understand...

Though one day we hear about an Elf with snow-white hair who's become a painter to a noble, and I know I'm no longer the only foreign ally here.

This lets me concoct a plan for Minfilia to escape, to go find him and my other allies.

She is wary, encouraging I go since I am more proficient in stealth and battle. But I deny this, knowing that the outrage will be too great for the girl to handle alone.

So one 'night' when the guards are sparse, mainly enjoying the strip clubs or the markets, I enact my plan.

We get the guard to come over by acting like I'm in horrendous pain.

When he opens the door I cast Glare and a stone spell to blind and knock him unconscious. (Thank the Twelve for white magic and elementals)

I insist Minfilia wears their clothes and just walks out. She begs me to go with her, but I need to keep this guard quiet but alive. So it's only her.

It's only hours before the whole military and Vauthry is in a panic. Not to mention I was right, their outrage was immense.

After several beatings, interrogations, and public humiliations later Vauthry has had his 'fun' with me and decides that he'll make a show of me through public decapitation!

I only pray that Minfilia has made it to the Crystarium and my friends to tell them the plan.

Luckily she did, and although a bit thrown off, they make haste to Eulmore to rescue me.

I'm brought before Lord Vauthry dressed in chains and rags, shoved to my knees, and made to bow before their Lord. Many citizens stand in horror and feigned pleasure as Vauthry has some guards present my scythe to the crowd.

This is a show just like any other, and Vauthry soaks in the attention and worship from those around him.

I put on my final act pleading that I don't know where the girl went and was truly put up to this. I'm kicked again in response.

Vauthry makes me an example, listing everything I've done wrong to the brainwashed nobles. He also has to go on and on about what a savior he is.

If I didn't have such a wish to live: I'd beg for him to chop my head off already.

But luckily during his monologue, Alphinaud and Allisae make their way through the crowd. Thancred, Y'shtola, and Urianger aren't too far behind.

Allisae holds off the guards while her brother heals my wounds and gets the chains.

I yell for my scythe, which one of the guards is clumsily swinging around, while Alphinaud begins to also get into the battle.

Thancred is all too eager to be at my back, and for a second I don't recognize him from when we last met.

Now it's an all out war between us, the guards, and the sin eaters that appeared to be Vauthry's pets. Yet the lord himself remains immobile.

This pisses me off since not only is he pompous but his monologue has become a child's temper tantrum. Not to mention, I'm enraged by everything else he did to me and Minfilia.

So I go straight to him and give the beheading that everyone gathered here to see.

Whispering as my scythe digs into the thick flab of his neck, "You really shouldn't lose your head..."

And it lobs off... Instead of blood and gore, his body transforms into a mass of primordial light and enters my body.

The townsfolk, the guards, and even the few living sin eaters go silent. While I plop into the plush pillows he used as a throne...

Y'shtola looks at me with narrowed eyes while Alphinaud, Allisae, and Thancred stare on with wide eyes.

I stare back, unphased. But figure that it's time to get out of here as darkness falls over Eulmore and the sin eaters flee.

I feel fine, but the rest of my allies feel it's best to stick close to me...

I did this because I've always wanted a scene where I get beheaded and felt like this over history homework... Will this sub-AU go further? Maybe....

taglist: @cydanite @floweringforgetfulness @floweringforgetfulness @hadesgoddess @jellyfish-ships @hadesgoddess @canongf @disneymarina @nyandereneko

[nebula-drcams]

Anonymous asked: How does Nimue feel about people like Zenos and Fandaniel?

Unprompted Asks || Always Accepting

HOOOOOOOOOOO BOY

She hates BOTH of them with a burning passion let me fucking tell you.

She's dealt with all kinds, she's patient and despite her frustration, she holds her tongue and her temper. 

Gaius and the Empire? Alright, so they can be taken down. Ascians? A pain in the ass but hey they have a solution against them. What happened with the Crystal Braves? Fucked up. But they could recover from it. King Thordon? Excuse me while I teach this old man a lesson. Nidhogg? Okay .. So things are getting a little dicey. 

You get the point right, they're all bad. We've been there.

But they pale in comparison to Zenos and Fandaniel. 

The anger she has for Zenos is immeasurable and only gets worse with each time she crosses paths with him. Take this into account; She'd rather deal with Vauthry again than deal with those two. And with how fucked up Vauthry is, she knows he was misguided, while Zenos thrives on harming people around him to get to her all because he wants someone equal or stronger than him. He doesn't care about who he hurts to get to her, even his own people iirc. I mean, did you see the wasteland that Garlemald was? He cares naught about his people, about the empire, nothing. 

What made it worse, and made her hate Fandaniel on the same level as him, was the fact that they both conspired and had her swap bodies with an injured soldier while Zenos took her body and attempted to kill her friends by doing so. 

She does not care what is done to her, what damage she takes, etc. It's when friends and loved ones come into danger is when the real anger truly kicks in. At that point, all patience for either of them that she had is long gone. 

While not as much anger was taken out on Fandaniel due to how he practically put an end to himself, Zenos on the other hand, got hit full force with all the anger she had built up inside which lead her to continue fighting despite how damned near close to death she was. Even now, even though she has won against him, that anger towards Zenos will never leave. 

She started out creeped out by both of them, and then as they continued to hurt others, her hate only grew with each passing moment. And that's saying something, as she rarely outwardly hates someone to the extend that she did with them. She didn't even hate the Crystal Braves as much as she did them, and she was really angry about them let me tell you.

[kitjoestar13]

Morning Glory

Fandom: FFXIV Characters: WoL [Warrior of Light] Mentions of Y'shotla, Urianger, Thancred and Ryne

Summary: A request of someones WoL going through light poisoning

Dying animals have a tendency to wander off, away from those they consider family to die alone. It could be to spare them the pain or to not show themselves in a vulnerable state.No one could be truly sure but Viktus could claim it to be the former. He has been a champion for all; for Eorzea, for the Far East, a beacon of hope for his friends and now a soon to be savior of this foreign new world that is a reflection of his own. 

With each victory, he felt like he was changing. Perhaps he could say he was getting stronger but the change was something different and almost painful but he needed to press on. After all he has dealt with much worse from various primals and Gods he has come to slay. Still he had heard the hushed conversations between Y'shtola and Urianger.

The concern in Y'shtola's voice with a small sliver of hope as she questioned that she could be wrong. After all they were in a new world and while they may have been here for years this land could have different rules to them and things could still hold surprises for them. She hoped desperately that her aether sight was weakened with the forced transfer to the First but Urianger's grim response made her voice crack. 

"What are we to do? There must be a way to reverse it or alleviate it." She said, as she knocked her knuckles against her chin. 

Viktus wanted to say he was fine but with how he was feeling recently he could very easily be caught in his lie. He just did not like the voice breaking, not when he knew how strong Y'shtola was. Thancred was also in on knowing what ails him as it seems he spoke with Minfilla about what she could do when and if the time comes. Viktus knew how hard that must have been to ask her, to force her to do something he saved her from. 

Heading to The Pendants, he made his way to look in the mirror to find his reflection very much the same. Grayish skin decorated with past foolish achievements of lone adventures. Heterochromia added to his "abnormality", one red and one blue as well as his moon silver hair with streaks of pale blue. It was a quick flash, almost as painful as his aether leaves that felt only like they have burned worse since arriving at the First. In the mirror his visage changed; Hair golden with white streaks, eyes one pale white the other an ominous black. The scar on his left cheek seemed to make him look as if he were a broken porcelain doll, a golden streak on his paled skin. The leaves were more apparent, golden and as if seared into his flesh. 

Viktus fell back away from the mirror, breathing heavily as he listened to a familiar and concerned voice. 

"You should tell them. Your friends can help you." 

Viktus looked to the aetherial form kneeling beside him in warrior's armor, quickly trying to shoo him away. This was nothing, just the Firsts' light tricking his eyes. He could not afford to make his comrades worry more than they already are. They treated him differently, as if he were a bomb ready to explode and he hated it. While he went most of his life alone, he hated feeling alone. A ghost does not company make. He will continue this fight without telling the others, his main reason to keep going was to get them back to the Source. If he didn't make it, well he doubted anyone would actively miss him, what with how he kept them all at arm's length. For now he did not want to think of the worst case though. There was one last Light Warden, one more fight and he will save everyone. Once Vauthry was stopped this hell should end.

He won. Vauthry was slain. Then why does it feel like the fight was not yet finished? Why did he suddenly remember vividly what drowning was like? Memories of his childhood flooded his brain; drowning, suffocating...dying. Was he dying? No this felt different, it hurt more. Aetheric vines seemed to have bloomed in excess across his body as he cried out (against his better judgment) for help. Help from his loved ones, his friends...his family. Screaming in pain, the vines on his skin spread, wrapping around his wrists like Aetheric cuffs yet somehow blood spilled to the ground or what would have been considered blood. From the wounds, white liquid pooled on the ground, coughing up and producing more white to join what was already on the ground. He struggled to breathe, tears of black streaming down his face. Back and forth his appearance changed as he had an internal civil war. Matching his struggle the sky above for all to see shifted between overwhelming light and returned darkness. 

A disappointed voice spoke to him, he could swear it was the ascian, Emet-Selch who was talking before but the voice was different. Everything went quiet except for this voice that sounded almost like his own but more brash. 

"You want them to see you this way? You are letting them all down because of your weakness. If you die they die as well. Fight or they will kill you." 

Viktus growled wanting to attack the voice, as his form shifted continuously until the Exarch tried to help him. No he was not a ticking bomb! He can still save everyone. He can shut that damned voice up. Standing up slowly, he screamed out to the heavens. 

"SHUT UP!"

Everything went black, he fell with a thud and it was finally quiet. It was then that he found himself awake in The Pendants to find that he had failed but at least he did not fail himself, his skin was his own again. He could not deal with this failure though and while his friends told him that it was not his fault he knew that it was that he needed to be stronger. He will win this time and will return the night if not for his friends than for the voice that sounded so disappointed. 

[dragoon-mid-jump]

FFXIVWrite 2023 Prompt # 18: A Fish Out of Water

a fish out of water (phrase): a person in a completely unsuitable environment or situation.

Rating: General

Word count: 717

First, Ishgard. Then, Eulmore. Now, Sharlayan.

This wouldn't be the first time U'reksh Tia felt out of place in a city he was supposed to be staying in for an extended period of time. Ishgard was practically devoid of miqo'te before they arrived, and after the Banquet and the scattering of the Scions, he really had nothing going for him there. The only one who actually did at that time was Y'dehlya and her Azure Dragoon mantle. It didn't help that most of Ishgard wasn't friendly towards outsiders.

Eulmore under Vauthry always did have an off-ness to him, and part of that was how lavishly, or not, the people lived. The only people who truly belonged in that Eulmore were the wealthy folk that were able to pay their way in. Anyone else, meaning anyone from outside who managed to get in through lots and noticed talent, had until they were no longer useful or needed, if they did something that displeased the local authorities, or if someone higher up just didn't like them. He was only able to enter then due to being Alphinaud's "bodyguard", and even then, their group was under the talent/usefulness scrutiny until they were kicked out .

And then there was Sharlayan. The nation of scholars. The keepers of wisdom. The masters of the arcane arts. The place of origin for most of his companions in one way or another, whereas he was just a boy from a remote village in the middle of the desert with nothing to his name before he met them all.

And Sharlayan was the same place that scorned the idea of their involvement in aiding Eorzea in her plights, to the point they made a show of it during a meeting with the Elder Seedseer, ending in Alphinaud and Alisaie getting disowned by their father when they pleaded with him to reconsider. If he already felt out of place among the Scions for his background, being in territory that was unwelcoming made it worse.

Thus did he confide these feelings to Thancred one night when his father-figure among the Scions found him sitting alone outside the Annex.

"So, that's been eating at you, huh?" Thancred replied, rubbing his chin. He sat down next to him and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Well, Reksh, do you remember that I was a street urchin picking pockets and snatching purses for a living in Limsa before Louisoix found me?"

"Yeah, but that was over half your life ago."

"That doesn't mean I've forgotten how I felt when I first set foot here myself, and I actually did have nothing but my basic skills and the clothes on my back. Me, a random street thief, barely a man, taken in on a whim by the head of one of Sharlayan's most powerful families to study espionage, even if it is common for Sharlayans to take in wards. No 'Warrior of Light' status or anything like that. We're...more alike than you think."

"I didn't think about it like that."

"Reksh, you're the first to jump into action and among our best and strongest fighters, and yet at the same time, you don't give yourself enough credit beyond that. Neither of us had anything when we first came into contact with the Scions, but we trained, and we learned, and we put those skills to use as best we could in their service, even if we failed in the end. Hells, we're both still learning now, after all that we went through on The First. Speaking of, what is it the others called you back there? Our 'Cid away from Cid'? Don't tell me that those Ironworks fellows have just been keeping you around for manual labor and muscle."

U'reksh was taken aback. "What, no! I learned so much from everyone there! C'mon, I figured out the machines in Azys Lla when I was helping Alisaie with the tempering cure!" His ears dropped a little. "With help from Raha, but he has that Allagan blood blessing and he studied the Empire's history."

"You see? More than you give yourself credit for."

U'reksh laughed. "Thanks, Thancred."

He ruffled the boy's hair and scratched behind his ears. U'reksh closed his eyes and smiled, leaning into his hand and purring.

Thancred smiled. "Atta boy."

[starrysnowdrop]

Regency AU Headcanons

Inspiration from Bridgerton & Pride and Prejudice

Image by: @aurelia-polyps

Please go check out this post for the full set of gposes based on this AU! Alright, here’s my headcanons, and I hope to answer a few of the prompts in my inbox for this AU very soon!

Lord Masanori Aino, a highly decorated military leader and head of one of the most influential noble clans in Hingashi, travels to the distant continent of Norvrandt in order to find a suitable match for his daughter Yume, a match that he hopes will forge a strong political alliance.

Yume is now 24 years old, so she has had her “coming out” in her homeland several years ago, but she rejected every would be suitor that came along. So now her father has decided to look abroad.

Lord Aino decides to have her “coming out” in Norvrandt at a ball in Eulmore, and that is where Lord Aino makes the acquaintance of Lord Midas Garlond, the head of a noble family in Eulmore, who then introduces Yume to Midas’ son Cid.

Yume finds Cid to be pleasant and handsome, but he shares none of her interests, so she is ultimately disappointed and not interested in Cid romantically. Her father however, was impressed by him and his accomplishments as a lead engineer of Eulmore’s airships.

It is at this same ball that Yume first meets the Crystal Exarch of the Crystarium, G’raha Tia. G’raha is the newly elected head of state in the small country of Lakeland. Yume is immediately smitten with G’raha, as she finds him incredibly handsome, charming, and intriguing.

While Yume has her eyes on the Exarch, her father begins negotiations with Midas to arrange a marriage for Cid and Yume, but there’s one catch: both Cid and Yume must agree to the marriage as well. Lord Aino knows that this will be his biggest challenge to overcome, as Yume is infamously picky and has high standards.

The Crystarium is the capital of Lakeland, the only major democratic state in the region, and they are currently in a Cold War with Kholusia, a powerful country who is lead by their monarch King Vauthry I. Eulmore is a traditional monarchy, and has a clear caste system.

Kholusia’s caste system and traditional monarchy aligns more with Hingan values, so Lord Aino looks down on G’raha, as he was elected by commoners who, in his opinion, have no business deciding who the head of state should be. So Lord Aino doesn’t entertain the thought of trying to marry Yume off to the Exarch at all.

Cid and G’raha soon become rivals for Yume’s affections, and the rivalry is made worse by the fact that they are political enemies as well, so both men know that whoever wins Yume’s heart also gains a political ally in Hingashi.

Despite Lord Aino pursuing the arrangement for Yume to marry Cid, Yume and G’raha meet several times after the ball, and the two begin to fall in love with each other. So G’raha then decides to arrange a ball in the Crystarium so that he can get closer to Yume, and hopefully be able to ask for her hand in marriage.

Okay, that’s it for now! Feel free to join in on this AU! If you do, please tag me so I can see it!! Thank you all so much!! 🥰💖

[scrollsfromarebornrealm]

unexpected hitch (shadowbringers)

(takes place shortly before Ran’jit’s first meeting with the Exarch)

----------

The whole affair was giving him a bad taste in his mouth.  And as if fate had decided to simply make matters worse...

I couldn’t stop her!  She just went through--and came back with them!

"I warned you that trying to separate them would not end well.”  Urianger ground out.  The ‘them’ being Riven’s fellow Warriors of Light.  The success of the overall plan hinged on Riven being completely isolated from her sworn-brothers.  In fact, Urianger suspected that the senior Scions being pulled to the First and not them was no accident-despite what the Exarch claimed. The twins would believe his words, as would Thancred. Y'shtola was...well, Y'shtola. She'd immediately sensed the charade, and when she couldn't get any answers, she had left the Crystarium. But she would generally trust that he only had good intentions--and so everything had seemed to be going well...

And then as was her wont, Riven had set everything awry. When the Exarch had (finally) initially gotten a lock on her soul to transport her to the First, it had been in the midst of a major offensive between the Empire and the Eorzean Grand Alliance. Urianger wasn't fully aware of the details, but he'd partly eavesdropped on the talk between Riven and the Exarch after her summoning had finally been successful (somewhat).

Riven had been angry. And she had every right to be, but it had been a while since Urianger had seen her that worked up. Had the Exarch been his younger self, he would have wilted under the force of her rage. Urianger had to admit to a personal satisfaction as Riven unleashed months of pent-up anxiety for the well-being of her friends.

"Where are they now?"

Settling in. Though I expect another confrontation, more than likely from Bishop. I gave orders for them to have the same privileges as she does. I just know that'll set his suspicions off. The Exarch replied.  Urianger sighed.

"I will do my best, but I can make no promises." He said. "I know Riven will believe me. If she believes me, they will extend me the same grace. How much, depends on them individually."

Can you handle them if the need arises? Urianger was silent for several moments.

"...There may be no need." He finally said. "Bishop will be the most suspicious, but he has the heart of a true healer. He will be distracted by the pain and suffering of this world. Augustine and Reinhardt will have their hands full ensuring everyone's safety once Vauthry realizes Riven is a threat to him and his plans. Sebastian will more than likely take up the challenge to try and bring additional aetherical balance back to what remains of this realm." Urianger paused for several moments, them continued.

"And Riven will throw herself heart and soul into stopping the Lightwardens. Her brothers will be distracted, and by the time the corruption begins, she'll pass it off as stress." The words had a bitter taste on Urianger's tongue. So much could go wrong with this plan, but it was all they had. Once again he was using his trusted companions, his friends, like game-tokens on a board.

Please gods, do not let this end in her death! Everyone else was expendable, even the Exarch and him. Riven had to live, had to survive this ordeal. Even if it came with the loss of the Scions, of her beloved sworn-brothers...she had to live. Her continued existence and the breaking of the Lightwardens' hold on the First superseded all else. The Exarch was silent, perhaps considering Urianger’s words.

It will all work out in the end. He offered. But the platitude was weak, and both men knew it.  Too much hinged on this plan, this sheer desperate gamble.  Urianger had no doubts that if the scheme was threatened, the Exarch would become even more ruthless than he already was.

Let it not come to that, please!

“I assume once they are fully settled, you will send them here?”  There was no answer to the question, and Urianger frowned.

“Exarch?”

I have to go.  Something has come up--but yes.  I would advise that you start getting ready to receive guests.  And with that, the linkpearl signal cut out, leaving Urianger alone with his thoughts and guilt. 

[ainyan]

Prompt #3: Temper

FFXIV Write 2022 Day #3 (Prompt: Temper); Words: 2595; Patch 5.0 spoilers

Temper

habit of mind, especially with respect to irritability or patience, outbursts of anger, or the like;

to dilute, qualify, or soften by the addition or influence of something else;

to moderate or mitigate;

Beyond the Tower, the masses celebrated the return of night - again. The Light that had so plagued Norvrandt was but a recent memory, and the scourge of Lord Vauthry had been laid low by the Warrior of Darkness and her stalwart companions. The Exarch had been returned to the Crystarium after his kidnapping by fell forces unknown, and all was right with the world. Or so went the refrain that sounded through the crowds.

Within the Tower, however, the night was silent and still, and there was little jubilation. Although he’d taken time to move among his people, the Crystal Exarch had finally retreated to his private sanctum, taking refuge among his books and devices.

Hiding, he could privately admit, from the Warrior of Darkness and her Scions. He was not looking forward to the inevitable confrontation; what he had done to her was unconscionable, and whatever she and her companions deemed suitable recompense, he would provide. That his motives had been beyond pure did not matter; that he’d had the aid of one of her closest friends did not excuse his abuse of her trust.

That she meant the world - worlds - to him only made it worse.

That he would come due for a reckoning, he had no doubt. That he would deserve it in full measure he whole-heartedly concurred. But the idea of seeing contempt - or worse, hatred - in her eyes made his heart quail as nothing else ever had. So, like the coward he was, he hid away in his crystal tower, pacing restlessly amongst his books and trinkets, delaying the moment of his fall.

“So.” His foot rolled under him as he stopped suddenly, and he cursed at the sudden piercing pain in his ankle. “This is where you’ve been hiding.”

Kneeling, he rubbed at his ankle, keeping his head bowed as his shoulders hunched, his tail curling between his legs. “I’m not hiding. I am contemplating the issues that still stand before us.”

He did not hear her footsteps as she glided across the floor, coming to stand before him, but he could feel her hot gaze on the back of his head. “Stop lying to me.” Temper seared the edges of her words, crisping them.

Exhaling, he felt his shoulders sag. “Alright, yes. I’m hiding, for all the good it has done me.”

She remained silent, and he gathered the tatters of his courage and dignity and rose unsteadily, gripping to his staff as he raised his eyes to meet hers.

There was nothing of warmth in her lapis gaze as she peered at him from beneath the feathery fall of scarlet hair. Her delicate features were set in resolute lines, her full lips pinched thin by her ire. Her ears were laid back, her tail lashing at the back of her calves as she stood, hands fisted on her hips, and regarded him. “What have you to say to me?”

He felt his own ears sag downwards, his tail coiling limply along his calf as he lowered his eyes again, exhaling heavily. “I am sorry for the pain I caused you. I am sorry for the trouble I put you and your friends through. I am sorry that I abused your trust in such a heinous manner; would that I had known a better choice.”

“Why not just tell me the truth?” she asked softly.

He looked up. “What would I have said? ‘I am from the future - your future - and you’re going to die. When you die, the entire world will be plunged into chaos because no one will be able to prevent the Eighth Umbral Calamity, and Hydaelyn as we know it will cease to exist’? Would you even have believed me?”

Her expression did not change. “Did you give me the benefit of the doubt?”

His gaze slid from hers. “I did what I felt best. Right or wrong, I judged it the right choice to hide who I was, what I was doing, lest I cause irreparable harm to the timeline. A chance word during a visit back to the Source and all might have come tumbling down.” He hesitated, then sighed. “Too, I think I did not want you to know it was me. I worried… I worried that you would think this just another ill-advised adventure. Coming from Urianger, I judged you more likely to accept it as fact.”

She closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Twelve forfend,” she muttered. “G’raha Tia, what am I going to do with you?” He blinked at her, watching her ears flick forward, her tail still, anger tempered in the face of his honest remorse. “What you did - what I went through… gods, there are no words to describe it.” Lowering her hand, she opened her bright blue eyes to glare at him. “I would have been fine with dying,” she said softly, “but you almost turned me into a monster.”

He clenched his teeth, looking away. “I know. I never expected it to get that far. I was going to take the Light from you, and cast it into the void, and you would have been safe, the First and the Source no longer in jeopardy.”

“And kill yourself in the process,” she replied flatly.

His eyes slid back to hers. “Are you the only one who may make that sacrifice?” he demanded.

She moved too swiftly for sight. One moment, she stood there glaring at him, the next she stood before him, the front of his robe clenched in her fist as she drew his face to hers. “I am the Warrior of Light, G’raha Tia. Such a sacrifice is my most likely fate. But I will be damned if I see anyone else I care about sacrificed in my stead. I am so damn tired,” she rasped, “of losing those I love because they judge me more important.”

He gazed at her across the ilm separating them, his allagan red eyes anguished. “You are more important, Ainyan,” he said. “You are the most important person in the world.”

She scoffed. “It’s not like Hydaelyn can’t find another Warrior of Light.”

He hesitated, then, “I didn’t mean because of that.”

She stiffened. “Oh.” Her fingers loosened in the folds of his robe as she searched his face, her brow wrinkling with her slight frown. “Oh,” she repeated, and he started to pull away. Her fingers tightened, preventing his escape, and her lips curved in a curious smile. “‘Tis good to see you awake, G’raha Tia.”

The same words she’d spoken to him after the defeat of Emet-Selch, when he’d first proffered his apologies. Now, as then, he felt his eyes fill, tears spilling over down his cheeks. “‘Tis good to be awake,” he whispered.

She searched his face a moment longer, then leaned in. He felt his breath still in his breast as her mouth touched his, a testing brush of lips against lips. At the spark that speared down his spine, he sucked in his breath and heard her gasp in kind. As he reached for her, she released him, only to slide her arms around his neck and draw him in, body to body.

His arms wrapped around her waist; it was difficult to remember to be cautious of his crystal arm, to ensure that he did not bruise her - especially as her mouth fastened on his, hot and hungry. As he responded in kind, he felt her lips part, her tongue flicking out, testing, and he closed his eyes and let himself go.

Let himself fall.

He did not know how long they stood there, trading kisses between them. Long enough for the celebrations outside to die down. Finally, though, she pulled back, reluctance in her every movement. “I came in here,” she murmured throatily, “to yell at you.”

“Aye, my lady,” and how those words had taken on a different meaning with her in his arms, “you did. And I deserved it,” he agreed, dropping his gaze, his ears drooping slightly. “What I did, Ainyan, I did with the best, the purest of intentions. I never intended it to go so far; I never thought you would truly be in any danger for longer than it would take me to…”

She closed her eyes, stepping forward to rest her head upon his shoulder. His arms tightened about her, and it was a great deal more difficult to moderate his strength than he’d ever imagined it would be. “I suspected,” she whispered, “for some time now who you were. Did you ever stop to think about how I would feel if you’d succeeded?”

He buried his face in her hair, his hands tightening on her back. “No. I couldn’t bring myself to consider it,” he admitted. “I was afraid if I thought too long on it, I wouldn’t be able to go through with it. But it was the only way I knew of to get rid of the Light. I never thought about using it to fashion your Blade.”

She sighed. “It’s not like you even knew I would need my Blade,” she murmured. “You had little reason to suspect that there would be Ascians involved until you’d already set your plan in motion. And by then…” She trailed off, and he felt her tremble in his arms. “I know the cost to myself, more than you can imagine. But, G’raha Tia… full glad am I that your plan failed.”

He leaned back, bringing his hands up to cup her face, urging her to look at him. His scarlet eyes searched hers and he sighed. “I am of mixed feelings,” he admitted. At her surprise, he offered her a bittersweet smile. “That you know who I am is a blessing I thought never to know. That we are here, in this moment, I never dared dream for. Full well do I understand that it was the failure of my plan that has led to this. And yet,” he sighed, “the torture you underwent beneath the burden of Light. The torture I underwent at Emet-Selch’s hands. And the fact that your comrades yet linger here, when my death was to have sent them home…”

“You will find a way, G’raha Tia,” she said, her eyes on his, and he exhaled to see the faith in her gaze. “I have no doubts in my mind or heart that you will solve this dilemma - without,” she added, her voice hardening, “undue risk to yourself.”

He winced, looking away. “Ainyan.”

“Raha,” she mimicked, and he turned back to blink at her at the familiarity. She raised an eyebrow, her gaze dipping deliberately to his mouth before rising once more to his. “Will you deny me the right?”

His breath grew thick in his lungs as his fingers curved to fit her face, his eyes gazing intently into hers. “Never,” he murmured. He lowered his head and she raised hers, meeting him halfway. As his mouth covered hers, his hands slid down until he once more wrapped her within his arms, drawing her against him and holding her as tightly as he dared.

Eventually, he drew away as he felt his blood begin to burn, his heart begin to yearn. As he gazed upon her satisfied expression, he bit his lip and drew away. She opened her eyes, frowning after him. “My lady,” he whispered. “Understand. I have wanted you for more years than I can possibly remember. But…” He trailed off, then extended his hand to her.

His crystal hand.

She stared at it, then reached out to touch it, her slim, nimble fingers skimming across rigid stone. “I admit,” she murmured, her voice shaky, “I’d wondered how much of you was this way. Not,” she added hastily, “out of salacious curiosity…”

He smiled. “You are not alone in that wondering, my lady,” he murmured. “Suffice it to say, more of me is crystal than man these days, and for each time I call upon the Tower, a little more of what I was fades to stone.”

Her lip trembled slightly and he reached out with his still-living hand to trace it with his thumb. “Is there no cure?”

With a soft, breathless laugh, he withdrew his hand. “It is not a disease, dearest one,” he replied hoarsely. “It is payment. It is the demand the Tower makes of me that I may use its endless bounty. Someday, I shall be a part of it. This is the bargain to which I agreed in order to save two worlds.” He hesitated. “To save you.”

She could hear the warning in his voice. “Raha, I never would have asked this of you.”

He shook his head. “No, you would not,” he agreed. “You would never ask any to sacrifice in your name; you would be the sacrifice. But no man may stand alone, my heart, nor any hero, either. And sometimes,” he whispered, “we must accept that those who walk at our sides do so but fleetingly, their fates writ to ensure ours continue unabated.”

Her jaw set; he saw it and sighed. “Have you not already proven, my Raha, that our fates are not set in stone?” She gestured to herself, then around them, to the Tower and, beyond, to the Crystarium and Norvrandt.

“How did you come to be so stubborn?” he wondered; a foolish question - she had always been, he knew, stubborn beyond measure. One had to be, to endure what she had endured at the hands of fate, destiny, and those nearest and dearest to her. “But you make me want to buck against the destiny I drive myself towards.”

She reached up, cupping her hand along his cheek, and he nuzzled into her palm. “G’raha Tia,” she whispered. “Once I watched you walk away to a destiny you had to fulfill - I watched the doors close between us and I railed against fate that it should bring you to me only to snatch you away. I cried that night,” she admitted, and he reached for her before he could stop himself, drawing her closer. “Though it had only been a few short weeks that we worked together to unravel the mysteries of the Crystal Tower, you had come to mean much to me.”

“Ainyan,” he breathed, but she shook her head.

“You were the first to sacrifice in my name,” she whispered. “Would that you could have been the last - but I have lost so many to a destiny I never wanted; now here one returns to me. And you would ask me to lose you twice?”

He gathered her against him and she buried her face against his shoulder, her arms banding tight about his waist. “I ask only that you be cognizant of the possibility, my heart,” he whispered. “I don’t want to leave you. I never want to lose you again. But you must temper your expectations.”

“Just shut up,” she hissed against his shoulder. “I don’t want to think on this any more this night.” He turned his head, tucking his face against the curve of her shoulder. “Just hold me, my Raha. Let me know that you’re here.”

He closed his eyes, his arms banding around her almost too tight for comfort. “I am here, my Ainyan,” he whispered against her skin. “I am always at your side.”

[tarajenkins]

I can't forgive the whole feeding people sineaters thing.... Like his whole system was neat y'know...without the drugging and murder. And having the poor sell themselves into indentured servitude....

Vauthry has a lot of potential though to be sympathetic but much like Zenos I just enjoy detesting him more. Although Zenos is on the top of my hate list. Gross little stalker man if only we only you stayed dead

Vauthry is the most sympathetic if shb antagonist as he had the least autonomy in his fate.

Least I don't hate Vauthry. I hate Zenos and Elidbus and Emhet -did everything wrong- Selch is just an entertaining asshole for me.

Think my lack of sympathy towards Vauthry mostly came from people simping for him after the innocence transformation. With looked horrifically painful. And like - the man feeds people their sick friends corpses to essentially roofie them into such a docile state they literally do not know how to take care of themselves. Please don't switch your tune because you think the uncomfortably child like monster is hot. Like please at least he was still a person beforehand

New nonnie, yeah? Again, you do you. I’m not here to say you can’t “detest” characters. 乁(ツ゚)ㄏ I’m here to point out some of the reasons people give for “detesting” this particular character don’t line up with what we are told directly in the game, or the game logic doesn’t hold up. Like “the poor selling themselves into indentured servitude". That is directly contradicted by the game dialogues, and our own WoL's experience alongside Alphinaud. I got thoughts on the “drugging and murder” thing too, but first things first: Gate Town.

Poor as in poor decision making? Yes. Poor as in, the poor of the Brume, with absolutely nowhere else to go, nothing to their name, completely at the mercy of the nobility who sit snug in their warm manors with all the Ishgardian muffins? Nnnnnnnnnnnnnno. Nonnie, how is any of the dialogue above Vauthry’s fault? I know the narrative wanted very much to push the “rich terrorizing the poor” trope again, but how does this line up with that? Alphinaud himself said he offered the denizens of Gate Town/The Derelicts alternatives--likely working for the Crystarium, or literally anywhere else instead--and they refused all of it. Even Kai-Shirr, allegedly a "matter of life or death", refused. But keep in mind, The Crystarium also required you work, if you wanted to stay.

Does that make their arrangement "indentured servitude" also?

Eulmore was looking for workers skilled in certain jobs. It wasn't some rando lottery for the amusement of the upper crust. When the jongleurs were sent out, they were looking for particular specialties, like painting, on behalf of a patron. Only the rich were required to give up their wealth and holdings for a place in Eulmore, to maintain everything as free for all living in there. Yep, including free for the workers, who outnumber the formerly rich by a lot. It's implied that in addition to all the freebies, workers were also paid well, and later in the story, they were loudly dissatisfied about Vauthry-- or, at least, his way of running the city--being gone. While Vauthry was still there, it was the city's official stance that they be recognized and respected for all their efforts.

Cruel patrons did exist in those twenty years, to be sure. Amity is full of workers who fled them. But cruelty was clearly not sanctioned nor encouraged by the city proper. Does the fanbase blame any other allied city-state leader for the heinous things their bad eggs do, or as ruthlessly? Not in my experience. (In fact, they often seem very forgiving of far, far worse.)

Also, remember how Amity was afraid that Vauthry would send the Eulmoran Army after them? He never did, in all 20 years of his position as Mayor. Why do you think that is, Nonnie? If his default was tyrant, why this? Why wasn’t he in control of all that was left of Norvrandt, not just serving as Mayor of Eulmore? He apparently offered his leadership to The Crystarium, who declined. He didn’t go raze the city, which he could have, especially considering the WoL was not on The First back then. All he did was clearly hold a dislike for the Exarch, who he calls insincere, and do things like....hire a bouncer for the Beehive, to make sure the patrons kept a hands-off approach with the dancers, a.k.a. the workers. 

Sick burn, your Lordship.  Until the events of ShB--which made it very clear Vauthry was becoming increasingly unstable--even workers who committed crimes were only exiled, not ordered to yeet themselves out a window.

Why did it change? But, TL;DR: "The hopefuls" left a reliable life for a gambler's chance in Vegas, and that in turn left their former neighbors in Wright and Stilltide struggling to maintain the workload that “the hopefuls" left vacant. But Stilltide and Wright were still selling their foodstuffs to Eulmore, so unless gil was more important to them than actual food, they were doing well, aside from the absence of "the hopefuls".

Onwards to “drugging and murder”!  ( ᐛ )b Gonna assume you mean meol when you say “drugging”, Nonnie. They never explain meol--instead, they seem to rely entirely on the shitty implication that this fat character eats people. I don’t know about you, Nonnie, but for me that trope was old long before Austin Powers. Anyhow, what we do know about meol: - It’s “made of sin eater”, even though sin eaters have no bones, blood, or meat--they explode into sparklies upon death. The narrative actually really emphasized the sparklies thing, sparklies are totally dangerous and will turn you. But the writers never even tried to explain how or why sin eater was made into bread. 

- In case you also meant meol when you said “murder”--and you probably did, you said “corpses”--it was never directly confirmed that meol was made out of sin eaters that were once people. 

Nonnie, Vauthry was Mayor of Eulmore for twenty years, and Kholusia as a whole had a small and seemingly stagnant population. If sin eater was people, how could that have been maintained?  Enough people disappearing to feed Eulmore for twenty years? The math doesn’t make any sense. There would be no one left. There would be a panic, rumors, at least whispers, not people circling the city like feral cats. 

But only one unreliable narrator--Thoarich in the Derelicts--implied ~people don’t leave the city, ooooooo~. 

Except people do leave the city. Like, all the time. Lue-Reeq does it to show up on my WoL’s doorstep at ungodly hours; someone in the Derelicts has a sweetie on the inside that comes out every day with delicacies; the guy waiting in Wright was sent out from Eulmore for booze; hunters getting their weekly marks; my WoL was bidden to “be free to roam to my heart’s content” by Dulia, etc.

- Meol was an entirely optional dish. No one was forced to eat it. Not even in  Gate Town/the Derelicts, because a.) Eulmore also gave out produce that was snubbed by fussy free citizens, and b.) there was all the meat and fish and Lemonettes in the field right there for the taking. No, I’m not talking about Bonefish, and their sad little description about how terrible they are to eat. You go twenty yalms to the left and you’re fishing up Kholusian King Crabs. 

Meol couldn’t have been part of some master plan, because there was no guarantee everyone would eat it, or eat it in the quantities needed to do....something. Mind control? Mind control that just makes the person stagger around and mutter incoherently? Makes total sense, very useful, that.

- Meol seemed to be a powerup or something for the Lightwarden, as consuming a lot of it caused the flesh of Vauthry’s back to rip off into tiny little meatwings near the end, leading to the Gulg dungeon and the Crown trial. But it couldn’t have been due to “living aether”, Sin Eaters eat that, they don’t have any of their own. Was it maybe the stagnant Sin Eater light aether completely tilting what was left of Vauthry’s living aether into Warden Time? But wouldn’t just being around all those Sin Eaters all that time have done that, without the middleman of bread?

- Alphinaud directly stated the citizens of Eulmore were in total control of themselves until the “mind control” incident. Nonnie, they weren’t helpless. The workers still knew their work, and most of them left to seek opportunities elsewhere after Vauthry was gone. Dulia was an accountant for Stoneworks. The nobleman who had no idea how to lace his shoes without a manservant was an exception, not the rule, and even that was not because of Vauthry.  Eulmore was the primary line of defense against the Sin Eaters for eighty years. All the loss from fighting that futile war broke their spirits. All the loss is why Ran’jit willingly followed in the lies Vauthry was raised on. They just wanted to live without fear before what they had every reason to believe was the end of their world, in a more lowkey parallel to XIII’s Yusnaan.  Tl;dr, again: Nonnie, meol is bad writing. Maybe you meant Ascension, too. Yes, I know, Alphinaud dramatically declared Eulmore was built on “the bones of the poor”. But since Ascension--a thing that Vauthry legit believed was real, Immaculate was the passion of his Ascension--since Ascension was only guaranteed to the (formerly) rich, if anything it was the bones of the (formerly) rich that built Eulmore. But why put logic in a stale trope, amirite? I doubt that any bones built Eulmore, though, since Ascension was implied to be every bit as optional as meol. Otherwise, why couldn’t the nice old man join the Weeping Warbler in hers, as he said he wished he could? He wouldn’t have been bullshitting us, would he? That’s sarcasm. Of course he probably would. But the fact remains no one was getting Ascended without asking.  And what do you know, as it turns out it was the Ascians who pushed Ascension as a (good) thing, and thanks to Ascians Gaia became an unattended child roaming Eulmore. Then there’s Cylva, who said it was the Ascians who convinced Vauthry to bring about the Virtues. It still boils down blaming the victim instead of, or harsher than, those that brought it all about. Nonnie, you say Vauthry had the least autonomy in his fate? He didn’t have any. 

[emetkoto]

Hey, please tell me your favourite Emetkoto headcanon? - @littlelordalphinaud

honest to god have to go with the wedding thing it drives me insane to think about its SO good and hurts SO much...im working on a long ass rambling post about it so i wont talk your ear off too much here but basically tldr (shadowbringers and endwalker spoilers)

near the end of shb before the vauthry fight when everything was looking good irt k'oto containing the light and suck emet-selch came to him one night he wasnt called and woke him up to take him down to the shade of amaurot in the tempest and the two got married in a traditional amaurotine ceremony <3 then after the ceremony and the obligatory ""first night"" he waited for k'oto to fall asleep and used his magic to seal away his memories of the night, took his ring, and sent him back to his inn room so it was as if nothing ever happened at all :,) if he had been able to contain the light from vauthry and prove mankinds worth emet-selch would have broken the spell and allowed him to have them back so they could just stay together but things didn't work out and the next chance he got was after the dying gasp which uh...ummmm... well. k'oto was pretty fucked up since he yknow, didnt plan to kill him at all and was not in control when that axe was swung so letting those memories loose right then seemed like a terrible idea so he just. didnt! he thought k'oto would be better off without the burden so he went on and on missing him and wishing that he had something, anything to remember him by, or any truly good times to look back on to numb the pain but he didnt!! so emet-selchs whole 'youll be better off without them' thing kinda backfired, oops! after elpis he was even more of a mess since um. wow. that all was kind of his fault for not really doing anything even though doing something would literally make him stop existing huh! when he got down to the aetherial sea and met hydealyn he was pretty distressed...angry at her for putting him and emet-selch through All That Shit and just generally grieving all over again but wait, she could see something wasnt right with his aether....a magic she recognized cast on his memories! so as a last act of good will to show that she truly loved him and was so very truly honestly sorry...she broke the spell for him :,) it was a genuinely good memory of him, not at all plagued by doubt or uncertainty or emet-selch saying some weird shit about how inferior sundered beings are it was just them. happy and in love for once and now he had it!!! he could think of it whenever he was sad and missing him and it gave him strength to carry on after that second devastating blow in elpis!!! and all of ultima thule!!! and pseaking of ultima thule when he's reunited with him there again emet-selch has no idea hydealyn has cleansed his memories and he Still Doesnt Plan To because he worried the memories would drag him down instead of empower him (like how his memories of paradise kept him trapped in the past unable to move on) so when k'oto tells him that he DOES remember he is. very surprised but also so so so sosososo glad that at the very end everything is finally out in the open. nobody is missing any memories, nobody has to lie or obscure the truth or hold back information to further their agendas theyre just. two lovers saying goodbye at the end of all creation hhhhhh,,,,,,,,,,,,,he gives him back his ring, puts it back on him all romantically the same way he did at their wedding and k'oto never takes it off ever again

this got a lot more rambly than expected but it still will get worse when i finish that other post. you have been warned

[laeorinel]

FFXIVWrite2022 - Day 2 - Bolt

Minor Spoilers for Shadowbringers

--------

One bolt. One stray bolt of that foul light magic. That was all it took to root her in place and bring her to her knees. Pain coursing up and down her body, nerve endings alight. She felt as though she could hardly breathe, each intake a struggle. And then came the whispers. Those maddening whispers had been growing louder and harder to ignore with each Light Warden defeated. 

“Kill…Feed...Change”

She could vaguely hear the sounds of her companions. Was someone yelling at her? Her vision was blurred as she looked around. Were more enemies appearing? Thancred was yelling, rage mixed with a hint of fear, cartridge after cartridge being used, likely doing all he could to draw their enemy’s attention away. 

She could feel the wound to her side slowly begin to close, the pain subsiding, but still, she could not move. Ryne was beside her, doing what she could to help Alphinaud tend to her and get her back on her feet. Both of them looked panicked. She could see that they were talking, but she could not make out the words. 

Y’shtola and Alisaie had firmly planted themselves in front of her as a protective wall. They continued raining down spell after spell with Urianger standing just behind them, trying to keep Thancred alive. Staying completely unharmed at this point was impossible.  

It was chaos. Nothing short of unbridled chaos. And it was only getting worse. She heard more and more cries of Sin-Eaters arriving. They would be overwhelmed soon. The Light inside of her was raging. While she had her doubts before, this near enough confirmed to her that her worst fears were realised. The Sin Eaters were drawn to her, much like any Light Warden.

The death grip she had around her axe loosens. She feels the Will of Karash fading from her body and mind, her inner beast silenced. She had failed. She was supposed to protect her friends and allies. Instead, she had become their greatest threat.

She curled up further into herself, the pleading voices of her friends fading away even as they grew more incessant, her vision fading until she saw nothing but her own body and the Light. She looked down at her scaled hands, black scales the colour of the darkest night peeling and fading, changing to a golden hue. Her pale grey skin somehow turned paler, looking almost like alabaster. 

So this was it. This was how it ended. Vauthry still sat upon his gilded throne, Emet-Selch was still out there doing Gods knows what and her friends…they were still trapped here and would now likely die here. She had accomplished nothing. 

“Never saw you as one who would give into self-pity.” The voice cuts through, the one crystal clear thing she has heard since being struck down. 

Ardbert. Of course, he is here. He kneels beside her looking her over with a frown. 

“You look like a right mess, but your friends need you. So come on. Get up.” 

Her eyes remain fixed on her hands. Her claws are golden now and longer, more akin to small blades of their own. It would be so easy to kill someone with these. She had endured for so long against this...

“Enduring against the Light is easy. It’s what each and every soul of Norvrandt has learned to do. But survival means little if you don’t have the strength of will to bring about change.” That causes her to look up at Ardbert, her now golden eyes staring at him. Had she spoken out loud? Or was the connection they shared enough for him to know her thoughts?

“Your friends don’t need your protection. They need your anger and rage. To be the one carving a path through the chaos. A force of nature that will not be stopped.” 

Ardbert places a crystal in her hands. It takes a moment before she feels the connection. The Gem of Shatotto. She swears she can almost hear the original owner scolding her as the darker magics of the soul stone force back the Light. As the Light fades, she hears the Scions again. Her friends. Her family. 

The Scions were corned now. Stuck in a rocky outcropping as they crowded around Samara and Ryne, doing what they could to keep the Sin-Eaters at bay as the young girl was still desperately trying to keep the Light in check. All of them were injured, and each had that steely look of determination but also resignation that this could well be their final battle. But being stubborn was part of the job description when it came to being a Scion, and none of them would surrender even an ilm.

And nor would she. Not anymore. She focuses on the Stone and Ardbert’s words as he fades into the background. 

“So come on. Get up. And show them-”

The sound of thunder rumbles overhead as the rain clouds gather and the contrasting temperatures of fire and ice swirl around in the air. A wall of fire coalesces around the Scions, incinerating some of the weaker or injured Sin-eaters on the spot and pushing the front line further back. 

Alisaie looks to Y'shtola. “Why did you not do that earlier?!”

Y’shtola does not give a response at first. She simply smiles and glances behind her. “Would that I could claim such magic is mine to control..”

All but Thancred followed her gaze to see Samara, now standing on her own, a look of pure rage and venom on her face as her magics coalesce around her.  

“Show them why you are known as the Fury and the Storm.” 

The moment the rain begins, she unleashes all she has to bear and more against her foes. The Sin-eaters are brought low by lightning, fire and ice until nothing but ash remains.