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#before people jump down my throat about minfilia hate
limielle · 3 months
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complexity
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crystalbahamut · 3 years
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become the night
FFXIV Write Day 6: Avatar
Summary: Eulmore has captured its most hated villain. If they want you to be the Warrior of Darkness so badly, then perhaps you will oblige them.
Author’s note: AU thing (I guess?) where WoL is captured by Eulmore having defeated maybe two or three Lightwardens? I’m not sure. Also it’s definitely more AUish in that WoL can better channel the power of the light. I just like the idea of using the dark to filter it– sort of moon-like. I don’t know where this came from but it felt like a neat idea, even if I could only manage a small snippet of what feels like could be a larger whole.
Warnings: Shadowbringers spoilers, some violence, unspecified/ambiguous WoL/D, not dark knight main but dips into it, playing a little bit loose with aether/magic abilities
Words: 1,469
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“Is the food not to your liking?”
Vauthry is a disgusting man taking advantage of people within and without his city and yet treating you to a saccharine tone like an honored dinner guest. And, as a most exceptional dinner guest, you are sat next to General Ran’jit and attended by no less than eight guards with various sharp objects just waiting for you to breathe wrong.
The situation doesn’t tend to work up much of an appetite.
“I don’t eat food prepared by people I don’t trust,” you say.
“Oh come now. If I wanted you dead, you already would be,” Vauthry says and takes a long swig of his wine.
He would think that. But if you hadn't had to sacrifice yourself to keep Ran’jit from getting Minfilia, you wouldn’t be here, and you know that. “Why am I alive then?” you ask. “I loathe you and I’m fairly certain the feeling must be mutual, given how far you’ve gone to keep me from killing the other monsters blighting this world.”
“No no no,” he says and sets his goblet aside. “You are simply…misguided. The Crystal Exarch has been feeding you lies and false promises, but I will teach you the truth. Here, have some wine; it will relax you.”
“No thank you,” you say, words clipped as you remember the last time you had a glass. Trauma aside, if someone wanted to poison Vauthry, you don’t think you’d mind.
“Stubborn.” His voice is barely raised but he slams a hand upon the table, making everything on it jump. “How will it serve you to deny me? You are here whether you like it or not; if you submitted to me I would make you a citizen of this city. Do you have any idea what people are willing to do for such an honor?”
“I do,” you say. “And if they truly knew what they were walking into you would be left with no sacrifices to your petulant temper.”
He stares at you for several moments– potentially you used too many big words– before he bears his teeth, shouts, and slams his fist against the table a few more times before grabbing a meol loaf and thrusting it at your face. “I’ve had enough– eat!”
You lean back but he presses forward. “Eat, damn you!” he says and pushes it against your face as you can lean away no more with hands holding you in place. You turn your head to get away from the bread that the light inside you reacts to. You don’t know what that means but it feels wrong in a way that turns your insides. However Vauthry is bearing down on you and he reaches in with his other hand to hold your nose.
So you oblige him.
Your teeth sink in to the base of his thumb and he howls. His flesh is pale, putrid, spongy…
…sickeningly familiar.
He rips himself away, leaving you with a tainted taste of sour blood just before the guard rips you out of your chair, slams you to the ground, and descends upon you.
By the end of their assault you wouldn’t claim to have much dignity left, bleeding on the floor as you are, but Vauthry is still whimpering about his bandaged hand so by comparison you’d say you’re doing all right.
There’s a knock on the door and Vauthry composes himself. “What is it!” he barks.
The door opens. “M-my lord,” the servant whimpers. “The- the Crystal Exarch is at the gates. In his words he demands an audience with you, to speak of the wrongful imprisonment of his warrior– his words, not mine!”
“Feh.” Vauthry sneers down at you. You let your eyes close and continue to steel yourself for what is to come. “I’m half-tempted to throw you from an airship and watch you break at his feet. But you may be of use yet. You– bind and bring them. You– tell the guard the Crystal Exarch is hereby an enemy of Eulmore and is to be executed on sight.”
The servant confirms his orders in the most simpering way possible and Ran’jit, finally, speaks up. “My lord, we need not truly negotiate, but we could make him return Minfili–”
“I don’t care about the girl,” Vauthry spits out. And then literally spits. “We have the Warrior of Darkness and the Crystal Exarch’s futile plans will never succeed without them. The girl will fight and die like all the others and a new one will be born. You can have the next reincarnation; the current one is too much trouble.”
“…My lord,” Ran’jit says, somehow deferential and seething with rage both.
As your hands are chained behind your back you feel a familiar calm settle into your bones and seep through your blood. Warrior of Darkness indeed. For a while the title didn’t feel right; you were a Warrior of Light taking the power of the light and everything about you felt too bright and burning. The Warrior of Darkness was a convenient title– a children’s story, a religious figure, and you felt sacrilegious ever even thinking about taking the mantle.
But now. Now the light is dimming as you allow an old friend back into the shadows of your mind and you feel yourself deaden to the world with only Fray’s echoing chuckle in your ear, even as you are dragged to your feet and paraded out to a terrified populace. Vauthry speaks to his people to– inspire them? Cow them? You aren’t truly paying attention. Not until he turns to you and asks, “And what would you say for yourself, villain?”
You look amongst the crowd, making sure not to linger on familiar faces. They don’t feel wrong, they don’t feel deserving of your wrath, and so this is not the place to make your stand. And you’re not a politician. Not an inspired speaker. However the things you have been through have given you just enough experience to know how to stir people. For better or for worse.
“Night is coming whether you like it or not,” you say. A little pull, a little pitch-black glamour, and all across the room you drape all the aether you can muster to…‘turn off the lights,’ so to speak. There are a few shrieks and shouts, and a chorus of gasps– even from Vauthry himself. You look right at him. “So you had best get used to the dark.”
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“By the Twelve, you’re a right mess.”
You crack open one eye. The other one is too swollen to budge. “Thancred?” you ask with a throat too dry to nearly speak. “What are you doing here?”
He scoffs and starts picking open one of the manacles. This is unexpected– and entirely too soon; you haven’t yet healed enough from the last beating to carry out your plans. “I got in here once already; you can’t think they’d keep me out now?” There’s a clicking sound and Thancred works with more careful motions. “I’ve simply been awaiting my opportunity. Nice little lightshow, by the way; it–”
“Thancred, did you find–” Alphinaud’s gasp is joined by another and both twins exclaim your name.
“I’m all right,” you say as Alphinaud’s healing magic begins to settle into you. It prickles, but after a few moments you can blink open both your eyes, and open and close your now-free fist. Perhaps everything can go ahead as planned.
Alisaie watches you sharply, and when you’re unshackled and healed up enough to start walking towards a collection of old weaponry, she says your name warily. “We should go.”
“Not yet. There’s something I have to do,” you say and dig through the pile until you find a greatsword.
“My friend you are barely healed,” Thancred says and holds out his hands. “We must return to the Crystarium and regroup.”
“We won’t get a chance like this again.” You give the sword a few swings. It’s far from perfect, but it will do. Until you find a guard with a better one. You turn towards your friends. “You don’t have to come with me.”
They look like they might refuse. Thancred looks like he might try to bash you over the head and just steal away, but whether he relents because he wants to or because he senses he can’t win, you aren’t sure. Either way he shrugs and smiles. “Very well,” he says. “Just answer me honestly, my friend– are you certain you feel well enough for this?”
“Yes. In fact…” You turn towards them, light pulsing beneath your skin and ready to be unleashed with the darkness already gathering. Stars and moonlight, there is a place for it, and you will show it where to go. “For the first time, I feel right.”
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final-fantasy-mama · 5 years
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Moonlight Ballistics (Ch.3)
Emet Selch X Mature/Wol
Emet tries to coerce some information from the WOL, things get heated, things backfire!
“Perhaps a clear and unambiguous act of kindness will serve to win the trust you seem so determined to deny me. “ ~Emet Selch
A hand grabbed her shoulder, shaking her out of her stupor and jump starting her fight reflex. He was lucky she didn't pull a gun on him. Thancred Waters was always pulling dumb pranks on her so it was wont of him to startle her out of her daydream.
"Had a bit too much wine love?" He smirked as she gasped and held a hand over her heart. Night had returned to the Raktika Great woods with the destruction of its light warden, the light Aether absorbed into the warriors body and now they celebrated with the Night's Blessed. A large pyre burned into the center of the village, where music blared and people danced. Wine flowed freely to all their cups and the night was filled with a merriment that it had not seen in over 100 years. The Hero too had been celebrating with them but she felt as if something had pulled at her mind, some far distant memory that bit at her but stayed just out of her reach. Her head felt buzzed from wine and also from a sensation that was unfamiliar, not from the Aether that swam through her, but something else. Something heavy that was pressing against her psyche but would not show itself.
She shook the feeling away and smiled at her friend. "Definitely too much wine and too much dancing."
"Mayhap you need to clear your head for a moment. Go take a dive into the lake." He laughed.
"You going to join me for some skinny dipping?" She teased back with a coy smile.
"Wish I could but I’ve got a kid now so I’m off limits." The gunbreaker joked back.
The hero had to laugh too as she knew all too well the pressures of being a good parent. "Thancred, be sure to tell her...Minfilia…tell her everything she does good and don't be afraid to tell her you love her. In fact, tell her so much that she'll hate hearing it."
He sighed and his expression was solemn. "You're far more adept at this whole parenthood thing than I. How the hell do you do it?"
"Lots of coffee in the daytime and wine in the evening." She joked and he chuckled while walking back to the camp.
That lake idea wasn’t half bad. The hero hadn’t bathed since the battle with the light warden and the revival of her dear friend Y'shtola at the hands of Emet Selch, her skin was caked with dirt and sweat and dip into cold water seemed like the closest thing to a bath she would get. So, she forced her legs to carry her away from the encampment and towards the nearest body of water as the din of the celebration grew fainter and fainter.
But as she reached the lake edge and gazed at moonlit waters she was bothered. What had she been doing in those few minutes she had been daydreaming? She had been drinking and dancing and then there was a hole in her memory, a chunk of time unaccounted for as if her mind was neither here nor there. She was not drunk, slightly tipsy but not drunk enough for a full black out, and as far as she could tell, her Aether was still intact and holding well despite having absorbed three light wardens. Come to think of it, when Emet was regaling them tales of Zodiarks birth inside the Qitana Ravel she had felt the same thing. Looking at the cave murals of the two gods, she zoned out, completely blanked and spaced, for just a few minutes before snapping back to reality. She was never one to space out during missions as every moment usually meant life or death. What on Earth was going on in her mind?
The hero knelt by the water’s edge and began to strip off machinist leathers that felt too cloying, too tight against her skin in a way that was unnatural. She had worn those clothes for ages and yet right now, they felt foreign and cumbersome and she just wanted room to breathe. Stripping down to her white loose blouse she dipped a handkerchief into the cold waters and sponged her face and neck, staring at her own reflection on its surface. It felt foreign to her, like she was not really looking at herself and then she looked up at the moon, stood up and stretched her arms up trying to cup its radiance in her hands as if it were a child’s toy she could pluck from the sky.
Emet Selch’s eyes widened and he clenched his fist at his side while he watched her from the shadow of a nearby tree. Her sudden despondent behavior had not gone unnoticed and he made to watch her closely. This was all going according to plan after all and weather she slayed the light wardens are not was of no consequence. Either she was going to die trying or the light would consumer her in the end, both outcomes worked to his advantage weather she realized it or not. But knowing her, she most likely knew. So, then what was her angle? What was she planning to do about it? This cunning, this cleverness was what kept him coming back for more and it’s what most resembled her.
What a fireball Altima had been, her perceptive eyes, her burning heart, her anger, her love, her rage, her courage….he had been a moth to her flame and weather he wanted to admit it or not, he still was. They were two great and powerful minds always trying to outwit each other weather it was in the audience halls of the convocation or in the privacy of their own rooms, when they’re two bodies would intertwine with such ferocity and passion one would not know where one began and the other ended.
Emet gritted his teeth and shook the memory away. He had spent the past few Eons avoiding any and all her shards and now here he was “cooperating” with one. It was infuriating on one hand to see her so reduced in power but she retained enough of herself that it almost made him uncomfortable. If she ever knew what she really was and regained those memories, there was no doubt that she would destroy him. He was far too curious to let the opportunity slide even though he was breaking his own rules by contacting her but when had he ever followed the rules?
The hero groaned out loud as she rubbed her sore shoulders and yawned. “Emet Selch, did I not say that I prefer you where I can see you?”
“Indeed, you did.” He remarked as he stepped forward and joined her by the lake side. “But old Ascian habits are hard to break especially around someone as…renowned as you.”
“Ohhhhh I’ve become an Ascian boogie man!” She cheered and fist pumped the air. “One life goal fulfilled!”
“Oh don’t get ahead of yourself hero.” He rolled his eyes.
She laughed gently and looked back up at the moon, its light illuminating her face and sparkling in her eyes.
“You didn’t strike me as the type who cared for moon gazing.” He mentioned noting how entranced she looked.
“I don’t know why….it’s just tonight it looks exceptionally beautiful.” She explained. “I just want to reach out and grab it in my hands. Keep it in my pocket like a treasure and give it to my daughter….”
“You’re drunk.”
“I’m not drunk, I’m musing.” She corrected and wagged a finger at him
“You muse when you get drunk, trust me dear, we’ve bantered like this before.” He said with a heavy sigh and then put a hand to his temples, messaging the flesh as if warding off a headache.
"I wonder if its made of cheese, The moon. My daughter always asks me that. What do you think? Would it be swiss or guda?"
"Now you're just being silly."
"Brie?"
"Do you want me to snap some food into existence? Is that what you want?" Emet asked in a annoyed voice.
"I'm just playing with you." She reached over and pinched his cheek. "I know the moon is basically a rock that revolves around our earth due to gravity. I may be silly but i'm not and idiot. It would be nice to get a closer look though."
Emet groaned and slumped in exasperation. “Zodiark....If you vomit on me, I’ll be intensely and irrevocably pissed off and try not to scream either. I can’t stand the shrill voices of damsels in distress.”
“What in Thal’s Balls are you talking about?” She asked. as a strong arm grabbed her waist and hoisted her off the ground. Soft fur tickled her nose as Emet’s strong body pressed up against hers and up they shot into the air.
Luckily for him, she didn’t scream, but she put a death grip around his neck that could have chocked the life out of a chocobo as she clung to him. He thanked his human body for being so resilient as they continued up and up until finally stopping. Her face was buried in the fur lining of his jacket as he spoke into her ear. “Look up hero.”
“WHATTHEEVERLOVINGFUCKWEREYOUTHINKING?!” She cursed into his chest in a muffled voice.
“Just take a deep breath and look up.” He said gently and firmly grasped her chin in his hand, forcing her to look at him. The fear in her face from the unexpected inertia was evident as her eyes seemed to quiver in their sockets and her hands refused to loosen their grip on his collar, but after a few seconds she realized how close they were and cleared her throat. She took a shaky breath and finally looked up. Her eyes went wide and mouth slightly gaped open as she audibly gasped. The fear giving way to fascination when she noticed how close they were to the jewel in the sky.
Every detail, every crater and dune could be seen with the naked eye as a full moon greater than anything she had ever seen and closer than she ever thought possible, hung before her in the sky. They had shot up so far into the atmosphere that she literally felt like she could reach out and touch its surface. Its light washed over the both of them as they simply hovered there, basking in its glory. In all her life she had never seen anything like it, and that was saying a lot, for as the warrior of light life often handed her a barrage of surprises both good and bad.
“By the Twelve…..” She said in a shaky voice, her eyes refusing to blink or turn away from it.
“Does this satisfy your childish curiosity?” Emet finally asked after a time, keeping a firm arm around her.
She finally teared her eyes from the moon and settled on the man holding her. “What is this for?”
He raised a brow at her query.
“Why would you do this for me?” She couldn’t finish her sentence as she averted her gaze and felt heat on her cheeks.
He smiled at her discomfort. “You have slain no less than three light wardens and seem to be faring well….more than I had anticipated…. You have accomplished what no other could ever hope to. Such heroic deeds deserve appropriate rewarding do they not? Consider this a gift for entertaining me.”
“But I should be thanking you for bringing back Y’shtola.” She said as she squirmed in his arms, trying her best not to look down.
“That was a token of trust.” His smile turned sultry as he squeezed her waist and put a hand to her cheek. “I said what I meant and I meant what I said when we first met. You have no reason to doubt me but if you wish to reward me…..”He purred into her ear. “I will not reject any favor you show to me….and this time you don’t have your little guns to protect you.”
Her heart nearly stopped. By the fury she had left her gun by the lakeside and was too distracted by him and the wine to put back into her back holster! She shoved her hands against his chest. “Don’t you even think about it!”
“I’m thinking of nothing, sweet hero. “His lips hovered over hers mockingly. “Whatever has you nervous is the result of your own lascivious imagination.”
“Them’s fighting words, Emet Selch.” She growled against his lips.
“It would wound me for eternity if you choose falling to your death over sharing a small moment of intimacy with me.” He pouted but amply reminded her that they were a few good malms floating above the raktika great woods.
“You always twist something good into something nasty!” She cursed.
“Well I am an Ascian after all.” He chuckled, not giving her any room to escape.
“Ass is definitely part of it!” She agreed as she struggled but after a few moments she forced herself to relax in his arms and gave a very big exasperated sigh. “Oh for the love of…..okay…alright.” She said in a defeated voice and swallowed her pride. With her face burning she looked him over and tried to focus on his lips. They were nice shape, slightly pouty and moist, with all his eons of experience he was probably a fantastic kisser but this was uncharted territory for the Hero, she hadn’t kissed anyone in years and a certain atmosphere was needed for such things.
Her eyes moved up to his and she locked gazes with his yellow orbs. He was an enemy and yet he talked to her as if they were old friends, he grinded her gears, sassed her, chided her, goaded her in a way that only someone close to her could. He seemed to know all the right buttons to push and how to make her squirm with his words where other men could attempt the same thing and not get any reaction from her whatsoever. Who is this man?
Without thinking she reached up and cupped his face, studying him intensely, and in return he studied her. How her eyes seemed to cloud over for a moment, lids closing halfway as her mouth halfway parted as if in a trance. She leaned in slowly and pressed her lips against his and he graciously received them, surprised at her boldness and that she had managed to make the first move.
Their lips moved against each other’s slowly and gently until she bit down slightly on his lower lip. He grunted in surprise and allowed her tongue to slip into his mouth, caressing his and when the subtle warmth of her Aether mingled with his, he felt it. Power. So much power that her body could scarcely contain it all and yet it did, by either the grace of her Goddess or something else, it burned through her like a star in her core.
He pushed harder against her, his mouth dominating hers as he laced fingers through her hair, he wanted to see how deep that power went, what lay at its center and unlock all of her secrets. His darkness pushed through her light causing her to gasp and jolt in his arms but he held her still.  Their kiss bridged the power between them as he reached the peak of that burning star within her and caressed it with his own Aether.
People? Visions? Phantoms flashed behind his closed eyes as he traversed her soul, faces of several people, her own shards, friends and family revealed themselves to him. But when he tried to push further, his mind whited out, something blocked him and he could see the spirit of a man, who was not any of hero’s shards, standing like a sentinel at the gate of her inner psyche.
Emet had never seen him before, this tall elezen male with a sharp face and light blue hair. His eyes were closed as he simply stood there with a sword and shield in hand, a guardian knight who stood sentry within her against creatures like the Ascian who might try to invade her mind. The shield the knight held gave away his identity, a red unicorn head sitting atop a royal vine. Ah yes, the Ishgardian Family Crest for House Fortemps. This must have been Haurchefant Greystone.
The shade of Haurchefant spoke. “Does my lady know you are here?”
Emet eyed him suspiciously and could see that over the knight’s shoulder, he was shielding someone. For a brief moment he saw the familiar hue of silken hair and a crown of gems and flowers before Haurchefant stepped forward, hiding his ward from view, and opened his eyes.
“If she has not given you permission to come here, then I must ask you to leave. Your presence upsets her.” And with that he lifted his sword and swung it down hard and Emet was cast out of her mind with such a force he cried out.
His eyes snapped open as he broke the kiss with the Warrior of Light and they were as before, only the hero’s body was limp, her head thrown back, eyes closed and groaning as if in pain. The Ascian had probed too deep, causing the hero’s aether to repel him and most likely she felt the snap of him being cast out as keenly as he had. In her case though, instant unconsciousness was the result whereas for him it felt more like a slap in the face. Oh how frail these Hyuran creatures were.
Looking down at the Warrior, something possessive and inconceivable overcame him. “It couldn’t be, its simply not possible!” He growled in a low voice. A million thoughts crossed his mind at this revelation, for within the warrior lay a sliver of the one soul he both desired with all his Ascian heart to see again, but feared what would happen if he did. He had found Altima and this posed a myriad of problems to his well laid out plans.
He cradled the hero in his arms and floated back down to the earth, landing amidst the celebrating colleagues and startling them all into silence. The music stopped, everyone turned to watch him and Thancred ran forward at the sight of his friend limp in the Ascian’s arms.
“Dare I even ask what you did to her?” Thancred said as he took the hero into his own arms, Emet did nothing to protest and handed her over without a fight.
“She simply had a bit too much to drink. Her poor head couldn’t take much more “stimulation” this evening. A bit of rest should do her well.” Emet said cryptically. “See to it she is well cared for, considering how you rely on her so.”
Thancred scrunched his brow. “What’s that supposed to mean.”
Emet turned to go and gave a haughty imperial wave of his hand. “Never you mind. I bid a good night to you all.”
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