Ffxiv Endwalker Spoilers - Tumblr Posts

Explodes and dies in a fire that consumes an entire city block

I LOVE MY WOL SO MUCH YAYYY YEAAAA :DDDDDD

new old man content on Tuesday and I am mentally bracing for potential ship and HC destroying impact playing "Nearer My God to Thee" like I'm a member of the string quartet on the fuckin Titanic but we ball

anyway

this is Laha-sealing away half my damn soul is therapy-brea and Aphroditos, my main WoL's Azem. and they are very cute and I love them I love them I love th-

In the Aftermath of the Sundering

Read below the cut for some fresh baked breadman angst

Returning to consciousness felt like a feat of incredible endurance and strength. Even shielded from the blinding radiance as we were in the rift between worlds, the impact rocked our one safe haven and stole a moment of awareness from us.

I was the first to awaken. Emet-Selch was the next. We exchanged a nod, then turned our wary glances towards Elidibus. He laid on what passed for ground here, restless. Not unconscious, but certainly not aware of his surroundings either.

By turns, his shuddering and moaning eased. He looked to us, barefaced with tears in his eyes. "I'm sorry. I failed you. I failed us all!"

In his tears of regret and frustration, I could not help but see an echo of my son in his youth. Part of me longed to comfort him, but practical needs superceded emotional ones.

"What befell? Emet-Selch, pull us from this rift, we need to know what happened when that light struck Etheirys."

He nodded, eyes haunted as he snapped his fingers.

I blinked for a moment as my surroundings came back into view. The Macarenses Angle, all but destroyed now. Trees withered to naught, buildings that stood for millennia reduced to rubble. And if I squinted across the square, I could see... Something moving. A sign of life where I *knew* Aphroditos stood before the end.

I ran for where I thought he would await me, only to stop short. Something was *wrong*. It was him, unmistakably, but there was barely more than a scantling of his aether remaining. He didn't respond when I called out to him. Didn't even look my way.

And when I beheld him in full, my heart shattered.

He had torn his hair down from its braids and almost ripped his robes and podea from his body. His brow furrowed, grunts and moans that might almost have passed for an infant's speech passing his lips as he poked and prodded the dust before him, etching shaky lines into the ground. Star-cut sapphire eyes now looked almost drowned by the black of his pupils.

Animalistic in nature. A measure of sentience, mayhap, but barely a glint of sapience. And not so much as a *glimmer* of the keen light of intelligence that once shone there.

Hephaestus: We should get you to a doctor for a check up immediately. What if it happens again, and there isn’t anyone around to help you? What if it’s congenital? Oh my God! Was it me? Did I hurt you?

Aphrodite: …You realize any other person that made their partner pass out on bed would simply feel really proud of themselves, right?

snippet from “Ascendance of the Morning Star”

Lahabrea arched a brow in surprise. “Many would leap for the opportunity to join the Traveler on one of her many sojourns outside of the capital. What makes you hesitate?”

“I-“ Aphroditos caught himself mid-sentence with a laugh. “This is going to sound ridiculous, but- I don’t want to make a fool of myself. All my life, I’ve been lauded for my skill as a magos, an academic, a phantomologist. The very course of my existence upon this star has been set by following those things in which I was naturally skilled. I fear that without relying upon those innate talents and my years of study, I have no other skills I can call my own.”

Lahabrea’s other brow joined its sibling in shock. “I don’t recall you being this self-conscious when you were my student. In fact, if memory serves, you were almost inappropriately brash and reckless with regard to your experimentation and studies.”

Chagrined by the words of his former instructor, Aphroditos rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish blush painting his cheeks. “Y-yes, well, I had a natural gift for the field, a predisposition towards the skills that work well within it. Doubtless, my ego swelled on the ease with which I met challenges my fellow students struggled to surpass. You must admit, it’s easy to feel such confidence when you know you are incapable of well and truly failing at a task.”

Lahabrea sighed. “Indeed, I know it all too well. I also have lived long enough to see it for the hubris that it is.”

“Hubris… I suppose that would be accurate.”

A very feelsy, near the end of Endwalker spoilery one-shot involving my WoLstatic blorbos. I hope you enjoy!

The punchline of this comic is that no meal is ever restful in ffxiv (funny, right??). In From The Cold rattled me, and I won't stop thinking about it for awhile, even if the game itself moved on at lightning speed.

Anyway, it's nothing a brisk walk and hunting some monsters won't fix I'm sure.

i love headcanoning old men as ftm. like considering fandom loves to equate being transmasc to being young no one will probably agree with me but i look into his eyes and see the wisdom only a post-menopausal man could provide

FFXIV Writes Day 1 - Envoy

Endwalker Spoilers, entry under the cut. CW for religious themes and suicide

Nerves had little place in the shared consciousness of the Meteia. Still, the burden placed upon the little starbird, that brave little spark faring the cold, endless sea of stars could not be denied. It wasn't easy to serve as mankind's envoy to their stellar cousins, and she'd met as much failure as success in her first forays. But she'd continue to seek out new peoples, new worlds. To find what gave their lives joy and meaning, and send her findings back to her sisters and Hermes himself. And then he'd smile and give her a flower, like he promised.

Everything would be fine. It would! Even if the first fourteen star systems she'd managed to track were less than encouraging, she wouldn't give up. ...even if more were like the eighth world her sister found, the one that lauded her as a celebrated envoy before annihilating itself and her in the process...

Should I be more careful when I get to this next star? She mused to herself. She hovered her bird form above the atmosphere of her next planet, considering her options carefully.

From a distance, the world didn't appear to be dangerous. There were no active fires or explosions, nor environmental degradation that could prove dangerous to her as she descended. In fact, it seemed almost peaceful.

And yet, deep in her chest, she could feel the cold claws of despair digging at her, emanating from the world below.

Oh no... Not here, not here too!

She dove into the planet's atmosphere, streaking through the sky like a comet as she descended towards its surface, towards the one strong beacon of emotion she could sense, driven by equal parts determination and terror.

It's just lingering sentiment from my sisters, things will be fine here, they HAVE to be!

Yet all the positive thinking in the world could not alter the reality into which she fell. Though there were no fires, no windstorms, no earth-shattering cracks or floods or frozen wastes or plagues choking the air, there were bodies and collapsed buildings. Innumerable, immeasurable destruction, yet tinged with an eerie stillness and quiet, the calm before or immediately after the storm.

There was a man- or something vaguely in the shape of one, albeit far too short for any she knew back on Etheirys- knelt before the rubble, his face coated in dust and dried viscera. She assumed her humanoid form to approach him, gently reaching out to his mind.

[Greetings. Can you hear me?]

The man started, his hand reaching for a blade at his side as he rose to his feet and whirled around to face her. Clearly, he was expecting an attacker, and she needed to chose her next words with care. (Although her programming would allow for but the standard greeting once she began it.)

[Do not be alarmed! I only wish to hear your words. Share your feelings. Know your thoughts. May we please be friends?]

The man laughed, as though the notion of companionship in his current surrounds was some incomprehensible cosmic joke. "Friends? You talk to me in my head, and expect that we can simply 'be friends' after everything that's happened here?"

She tilted her head. ['After everything that's happened'? Could you please explain? I've come from another star to discover what other people live for, and I don't know anything about this place.]

"...you want to know what we live for here?" The man asked, incredulous. After a moment of silence, he heaved a sigh from somewhere deep in his chest. "Once, I knew the answer to that question. We all did. We lived for our God, our glorious Creator. He gave us everything we could ever ask for. Safe haven from the wilderness, systems of law, intellect, art, magic, our very forms."

A bitter scowl crossed his face. "And then we grew proud. We thought ourselves beyond Him, thought we could ascend to His level. One of our number even managed to pierce His lofty heavenly throne, and then..."

The man shuddered. "Judgement was swift. Retribution moreso. He made our towers crumble and collapse beneath their own weight, stole the lifesbreath from our lungs, and proclaimed that once this season's crops had been reaped, nothing more would grow again. He proclaimed us a failure, then abandoned us after unmaking all we had become."

Meteion felt a sympathetic shudder roil across her being, not only from the sheer weight of his emotions, but from her sisters' knowledge of Etheirys. How familiar this tale felt to her ears, to be treasured as a beautiful creation, then cast aside once one no longer served their purpose.

Unbothered by her reaction, the man paused in his recollection of events to address her directly. "And you would ask me what I live for?"

She nodded, whispering in his mind, [Yes! I know things are bad right now, but surely there must still be something that you live for!]

The man shook his head, a hollow look of resignation sinking into his eyes. "He was everything to us, and without Him, we are nothing. We will not survive without His protection and guidance. ...I see now that those of us left alive after he left us were the cursed ones, not the fortunate. He wanted us to suffer and die for our pride. He wanted to punish those of us left behind. I was the last to hold on to hope that He would return. And I will hold on no more."

The man drew his blade and Meteion took a step back, arms raised as if they would do anything to defend her if he struck. [Wait! P-Please wait, there must be something worth living for, some small happiness or joy or hope or favorite food or-!]

Again, the man shook his head. "Fly away, little one. May your wings carry you to brighter worlds than this. There is nothing you seek here."

Ichor painted his neck. A body fell to the ground before the star-faring familiar with the mind of an inquisitive young girl. She fell to her knees shortly after, wailing in agony and sympathetic sorrow as the emotions of all the dead around her closed in like a whirlwind, tinting her feathers black as the void of space from end to base.

It was too much, too much for any soul to bear. World after world, star after star, nothing but sadness and anger and hatred and death and despair and-

No more. No more could she abide in useless hope. She would join the rest of her sisters singing a requiem for the universe, and serve as an envoy of despair.

Her report rang through her shared consciousness to all her sisters. It read:

"Deka-pente. Local civilization once flourished under auspices of higher power. Said power later laid waste to civilization in fit of rage. Upon revealing this to me, entity elected to self-terminate in lieu of providing answer to question. No other intelligent life-forms found."

FFXIV Write 2023 - Day 5 - Barbarous

Spoilers for Endwalker MSQ, circa level 82-83.

Xander knew Lucia would never exaggerate about the coldness of Garlemald, yet he found himself surprised by the sheer frost both consuming the environs and in the demeanors of the people. He knew any extension of humanitarian efforts was like to be met with some resistance- one did not simply overcome a lifetime's worth of prejudice and propaganda in mere moments- but the fact that many would sooner die from spite than accept necessary aid... It sat ill on his stomach, gnawing at the edges of his fraying temper.

They didn't have to be here, doing this. Hells, most of Eorzea and the Far East would much rather this army was an invasion force come to mete out some justice for all the lives the Garleans shattered over the past several decades. The fact that Fandaniel's forces and the massive spire of horrors in which they- and doubtless, the resurrected Crown Prince Zenos yae Galvus- loomed over their every action only spurred that tiny voice of bitterness that they were wasting time trying to help the oppressors to speak ever louder.

A voice that Xander forced back down inside, again and again. He'd made this mistake with the reticence and seeming ingratitude shown by the people of Ala Mhigo when he'd arrived there a year prior and gotten roundly condemned for his words and behavior. For his inability to see why they wouldn't exactly roll out the welcome wagon for those who would only make their immediate lives worse.

To expect people already writhing on the ground to lick his boots for the privilege of being saved was barbarous behavior, ill-becoming of a hero. Ill-becoming of anyone.

And so, he pushed that little voice, the one now actively roaring that all of this humanitarian effort was wasted on these intransigent bastards, back down into the depths where it belonged as he wandered with Alphinaud and Alisaie through the military installation known as Tertium.

Rage flared and flickered in his veins as his eyes drifted down to the magitek collars around Alphinaud and Alisaie's necks. The voice spoke up once more. Waste of time. Foolishness. They need to be PUNISHED for their barbaric behavior.

He took a deep shuddering breath to calm himself, his frustration coiling in front of him in frozen mist. We're supposed to be taking stock of the situation here. And it's far better that I came here with the twins than anyone else. If M'hana or, gods forbid, Celeste were here with them when those collars went on...

A shudder not prompted by the cold ran through Xander's body as he recalled the reports he heard from Ser Aymeric about Celeste's rampage through the Tribunal shortly after their arrival into Ishgard. There had been a hostage situation then, and she'd made it perfectly clear that she didn't give a damn about repercussions or trauma experienced by the hostage if it meant the hostage-takers were slain to a man. Such behavior then nearly cost them their temporary sanctuary. Such behavior now would forever scuttle any attempt at diplomacy they could have with the remains of Garlemald.

And so, though he felt deep in his core that it was a waste of time and resources both, though he longed to his soul to slaughter the camp to a man for daring to endanger those he loved like his own siblings, he forced those barbarous impulses down, down, down to focus on the mission at hand.

The first soldier he approached rested near some barrels of provisions. When he addressed her, she searched his face for several long moments of confusion before her eyes widened in recognition and an emotion he hadn't expected- terror.

"It's you! Xander Kinneman! My name is Octavia. I- I served under Lord Gaius in the XIVth Legion. I was there on the night the Praetorium fell..."

Octavia shook before him with something akin to white-hot rage and conviction as she continued, "You and your adventurers... you killed them. My comrades, my friends... Swept them aside in their dozens like they were nothing to you."

Xander blinked in stunned shock. He'd still been in the form of a Hyur back then. That this woman could possibly recognize him after so long, and in a different body besides... "How did you recognize me, when I-?"

Her eyes narrowed. "It's your eyes. Those damnable dead eyes. We expected celebration at our fall. We expected sadism or delight or duty. But you... you-! There was nothing in your eyes. Nothing but boredom and calculations. And yet you and your savage ilk call us the barbarous ones while the vaunted, worshipped Champion of Eorzea weighs lives like stones in a bloody abacus!"

She broke off her rant with a manic laugh half-interrupted by coughing. "And maybe in the end, I'm nothing to you too. Just another faceless enemy to be cut down." Righteous fury blazed in her eyes as she glared up at him. "But it won't be long until our countrymen return. Until you get what you deserve. Mark my words."

Xander staggered back as though struck while the soldier returned to her duties, pointedly ignoring his presence. The implied threat registered to his conscious mind, but only barely above the yawning maw of dread opening in the depths of his stomach.

He had often considered the thought idly in sleepless nights where self-loathing spoke louder than good sense, but now he had confirmation: To the Garleans, he was the unstoppable juggernaut that saw naught in the lives dashed against him that Zenos was for Rhalgr's Reach.

Well did he remember that terror, that despair, of fighting to the brink and his best efforts only being enough to mildly entertain that monster in the shape of a man. And to the Garleans, in his calculating nature and unstoppable might, he was no better.

No better.

"Farewell, my first friend. My enemy."

...They should never have come to this frozen, forsaken place. He should never have come here.

FFXIV Write 2023 - Day 7 - Noisome

Pandaemonium Spoilers up to Patch 6.4

Lahabrea was not a man to wear his annoyance openly, especially after he'd chosen to abide in duty alone all those years ago. And yet, certain things- or rather, certain people- never failed to make his nerves bristle.

He'd quarreled often with the previous Azem, their perspectives never able to align due to her sheer selfishness. If she had any code guiding her actions, it was clearly an internal one and not her oath of office, as he took great pains to remind her.

Her successor annoyed him even more. As one of his former students, someone who may well have joined the Words of Lahabrea or become a trusted Warder of Pandaemonium had he not encountered some sort of mental breakdown, Lahabrea thought he might have more insight into how this new Azem would see the world.

What a fool he was. The latest Azem took the precise letter of the law and found some way to twist its interpretation to suit his latest antics, violating the spirit of the regulation but not breaking it to the point of earning censure. A practice enabled and all-but encouraged by Elidibus Ascendant. Even more annoyingly, Lahabrea found that he couldn't fault Azem's logic, even if he disagreed utterly with the methodology he used.

One would think this understanding would spark greater harmony, but no. It only made his actions even more noisome than Venat's had been.

Worse, he now found himself almost smiling fondly at the man's latest instance of malicious compliance. Charmed by how thoroughly he understood the rules and proceeded to flout each and every one of them, then successfully argue his case to avoid punishment. And, more damningly, something twisting in Lahabrea's gut wanted to silence Azem's manipulative tongue with his own mouth.

An inconscionable thought. Inappropriate to the highest possible degree. The man was young enough to be Erichthonios' peer, for the star's sake. Not to mention that he would be categorically, functionally unable to give Azem what he seemed to long for, if one trusted his little favors and acts of service to send a message.

It was unthinkable. Impossible.

...Desirable. A trap. He'd fallen for this sort of unpredictable behavior before, and it tore his soul in half, estranging him from himself and his son. No love for anything else, none for the star, no room for anything except raw ambition-

No. He wouldn't fall for it again. Wouldn't fall again. He'd sworn upon the grave of his wife that he would cast aside all fickle emotion.

And yet, like a particularly noisome insect, the desire buzzed in his ear, thrummed through his veins, stoked with each visit, each gift, each simple gesture of kindness laden with subtextual meaning to any with eyes to see it.

Damn him. Damn Azem for saddling him with these... unnecessary feelings.

FFXIV Write 2023 - Day 8 - Shed

Endwalker MSQ spoilers, CW for references to self-harm, anxiety, and a panic attack.

Aphroditos curled into himself, inhaling and exhaling on shaky counts of four as he tried desperately to claw his racing thoughts back in line without waking his traveling companion. The sheer enormity of the undertaking he'd chosen, the burden of travelling at Azem's side and leaving behind all he knew, the terror of the unknown expanses unfolding before him struck him all at once, and it was all he could do to resist the urge to flee.

He had to run, but where to? Amaurot wouldn't soothe him, Elpis would only make his condition worse. Running was functionally useless as the last thing he needed was to get lost in the untamed world outside the settlements. Stars, it wasn't even something physical that he wanted to flee, but something internal.

Breathe, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four. Slow and steady.

This thought, he ran through his mind like a mantra in an attempt to silence the much louder voice that screamed Out out get OUT run flee GO don't belong here don't belong ANYWHERE out out out OUT you have to get out somehow GET OUT-

"Aphroditos?"

Azem- Venat, she'd told him he didn't know how many times to call her Venat- slowly sat up from her bedroll, looking at him through bleary yet concerned eyes.

Shit. "It's nothing, I'm fine. I'm sorry I woke you-"

Venat shook her head and laid a hand gently on his shoulder. "You and I both know that it's not nothing and that you're not fine. What are you feeling, Aphroditos?"

It took several long minutes for him to find his voice. The thought sounded asinine as soon as it left his lips, but he found himself saying, "I feel constricted. Like I want to tear my own skin off. Been digging my fingers into my robes to fight the urge."

An urge he'd indulged more than once. It had been a common coping mechanism after a trying day in Elpis. A foolish one from the start, really, but it's not like anyone would notice. Would care to notice, even should his sleeves chance to slip up and reveal the scratches. Easier to excuse it as the work of some unruly creation than to admit the truth.

It was bad. Wrong. He had to marshal everything in him to avoid giving in to the impulse.

"So, do that then."

Venat's words short-circuited the stream of reflection and self-castigation going on in her charge's head. He stared at her, mouth opening and closing several times before he settled for replying, "I- Beg pardon? Did you honestly just advise me to-"

She shrugged. "I'd heard from some of your colleagues that your transformed state is a snake-like creature. If that is so, then why not channel that impulse and shed a skin in a form that needs to do so? That would help sate the urge without causing you to hurt yourself."

"I- Er, well, no, I wouldn't, but I- that is, uh. Huh."

Aphroditos hated how useless his mouth was at communicating in this instant, his words stolen by utter shock and disbelief. All this time, could it really have been that simple-?

A soft smile crossed Venat's face as she addressed him once more. "Many of my esteemed colleagues hold that our transformed state is the truest outward expression of our inner souls. Yours, being more serpentine, might on occasion become too-tight or ill-fitting, especially during periods of upheaval. You wouldn't shame a snake for scraping off a layer of skin and scales that no longer fit, would you?"

Despite himself, Aphroditos found his grip around his robed arms relaxing. "Well, no, but that is the nature of snakes, not the nature of man, and besides which, I don't- I'm not comfortable transforming in front of others." His cheeks went pink. "I appreciate all you've done for me, but we aren't there yet."

The older woman nodded, a look of sage acceptance on her face. "Very well. I apologize, it wasn't my intention to cause you further discomfort."

Her expression shifted to something more contemplative before her eyes lit up with realization. "Still, there must be- ah! What if, instead of transforming, we went to the riverside and did some exfoliation? I'm sure our skin could use the refresher after a few days on the road, and I've some marvelous stones for just such a purpose."

"I don't know if handing me an abrasive is the wisest idea..."

"Aphroditos, look at me."

Sapphire eyes met aquamarine and held their gaze. Venat laid both hands on his shoulders, offering both comfort and distance as she continued, "I'll be right there with you. I won't let you scrub hard enough to hurt yourself. And I don't think you'll want to do so either, once you get started. All right?"

Aphroditos shifted, awkwardly tucking his hair behind his ear. "I wouldn't want to keep you up any later than I already have-"

Venat scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Oh, pshaw. I'll have much more restful sleep knowing that both of us are safe and well. And I'm sure you'd rather have less hours of more restful sleep than more hours of restless tossing and turning."

He shrugged. He couldn't deny her point on that front.

Once they were both cleansed, pumiced, polished, and moisturized, master and apprentice settled back into their bedrolls for the night. And though he must only have gotten four or so hours of sleep when the sun rose the next morning, Aphroditos had to admit that 'shedding his skin' made him feel the most rested he'd been in ages.

WoL: *facing the Endsinger* "Only the power of friendship can save me now..."

Zenos: "Hi!"

WoL: "..."

WoL: "no"

Ffxiv spoiler, I guess

Ardbert. Hated these warrior of darkness (seriously, kill thief are awful. These were mine to kill!) But "We did everything right, and yet..." This hurt me.

Found once more with the survivors of the 13th. They tried. They tried so hard, and yet.

Also the Ascians. To a certain degree. (Hard to empathize with Hermes and Meteion, and Zodiark was a stupid idea)

obsessed where stories where it is like. the mistakes are unfixable and the worst thing that could happen happened and nothing can go back to how it was. but there was still love in this and love will continue after this and love endures always.