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#wolemet
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wol: it's not my fault that I don't remember! I didn't choose to get sundered! Emet, with no clue how he escaped the sundering: skill issue
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elezenmen · 5 months
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you are too well tangled in my soul
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sassquire · 2 months
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WHERE is all the art of emet-selch fagging it up. a withered old hag. a bitchy queen. who among you understood the assignment
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emahriel · 18 days
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Oh, how I wish you could've pried out the broken pieces of God in me.
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umbralaether · 2 months
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😳 : A confessing headcanon
Everyone thinks you’re fucking Emet Selch.
She’s heard the rumors, seen the stares, and in the hazy euphoria rarely afforded to her by the Light she only laughs at Alisaie’s accusation.
“Well? Tell me it isn’t true.” The elezen’s arms were crossed, gaze unreadable.
“Why does it matter? Have I not sacrificed enough?” There’s venom in the last sentence, unintended but unmistakable. A courtesy of the white hot aether looking to hurt.
“It’s… deplorable! He’s using you, you know. Trying to get into your head and change you.”
Aren’t I already changed? Aren’t I already… doomed? A monster in waiting?
“And if I am? You would think less of me?”
Alisaie only frowns, “I worry for you. We all do. Emet Selch is only cloaked in the past and—”
“He is the only who has offered me comfort. You don’t know the pain I’ve endured, and if he can take that away if only for a minute? I will accept whatever shame it brings.”
A few blinks and she realizes Alisaie has backed away, staring at claws bared. It’s another moment before she realize her fur is bristling, more anger brimming under the surface.
Eisha steps back, “Don’t worry about me. I’m as fine as I can be, all things considered.”
She turns to leave, and doesn’t see the pained look that haunts Alisaie’s face.
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misswarrioroflight · 2 months
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my friend asked me to draw this while she was delirious from sleep meds at 4 am
who am I to deny such an earnest request so have my fashion designing lizard harassing a freshly woken up Emet
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snotsloth · 9 days
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VierApril Day 20: Heavy
"The longer you live, the heavier the past will weigh on your shoulders. Eventually, you will not remember what it felt like to step lightly." -Emet Selch
I made these poses all by myself, including the expressions! I'm very proud of myself!
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akirakirxaa · 4 months
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25 for gpose spotify wrapped!
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𝐼 𝑤𝑎𝑠𝑛'𝑡 𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑤𝑎𝑦, 𝐼 𝑢𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑙𝑜, 𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑚𝑦 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑠𝑡 𝑡𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒, 𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑓𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑒, 𝐼𝑡 𝑙𝑒𝑓𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑒.
-- I'm Not An Angel, Halestorm
[[Spotify Gpose Ask Game]]
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coriphallus · 2 years
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Emet and Mith have the best pillow talks ❤️
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idrisien · 8 months
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"I love you. In every life, every shard, every universe."
Happy one year, Ezra and Hades ♡
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haglover02 · 15 days
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here are my old wol/emet drawings idgaf
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nights-at-crystarium · 2 months
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hi hello welcome to the gallery dedicated to depressed but alluring old men and Vivi
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elezenmen · 5 months
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sarahdesdemonaffxiv · 2 months
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Is this Emet to the Warrior of Light?
Is it the Warrior of Light to Emet?
At this point, would there be a difference?
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rprfloortank · 10 months
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Hey fellow ffxiv refugees I’m Gabby, I’m currently not allowed to tweet on Elon’s hell site. My main ships are ZeroWolEstinien, WoLEmet and wolchefant! It’s currently wolchefant week on Twitter so I’ll be posting a lot of wolchefant in particular this week.
If you want to read more about my wol and her ships I have some fics posted on ao3 under the username BridgeGoblin. Will be trying to post here a little bit more!
My tags so far are
#rprgppses for all of my gposes
#hachuposes for poses for hachu, my main WoL
#hachulore for rambles about hachus lore
I’ll add to this post with tags as I make them!
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umbralaether · 1 year
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When he came to her the night the first Light Warden was defeated, he had pinned her against the wall in a frenzy of heated kisses and when pressed, whispered to her that she was nothing more than a weapon kept by the sides of lesser men to be used in their wars. The spiteful words he whispered in the hush of tender nights were always followed with saccarine sweet lips on her skin, and certainly made it difficult to decipher what it truly was that kept him coming back.
You have always been used by these mortals, my dear, and what have you gotten in exchange?
Any answer she may have had drowned in her throat when his mouth met hers again. She wants to drink him in, drown in the heavy buzz of lust emanating from their aether. Though it was the worst thing she could do, the warrior of Light found herself deeply infatuated with her Ascian ally - and as much as she tried not to, her fondness grew.
She wants to ask how he would know this, and how else you use a weapon. As soon as she has the thought his hands work their way into her hair and he pulls, forcing her eyes to his, "I wonder what it is that distracts you so?"
She ponders her answer briefly before saying, "I suppose you know how I should be used."
He digs deeper into her hair, gaze darkening with lust, "Be careful what you say, Hero. You may find I am easily tempted."
Apparently, so was she.
He furrows his brow at the realization that this soul was different than the shards of it he had found in the past. She had always been selfless, fighting for the hopes of others and rallying those around her to better life for all. She just wouldn't remember doing so for the life that really mattered - the one they had shared.
It makes him uneasy when he sees her do the same to the unworthy beings of Norvrandt, even more so as it mirrors the first path to her end. He knows deep down she could do so much more than save this sundered world, if only she knew. She could reclaim what was taken from her - what she was forced to forget.
The primals enthrall those they touch, and the Mother Crystal engulfs her.
"They should not be wasting a soul such as yours. They don't even ask your permission before sending you to your death." He says one night, curled beside her. He runs fingertips down the length of her bare form, his touch as cold as his words were meant to be. It is hard to look at her with the way the light pours through the cracks of her soul. A fever ever burning and untouched by all remedies sits just below her skin, made worse with three Wardens dead.
The Light is killing her. She knows it, and he knows it too.
"They need not ask, I'm supposed to help them. It's my only way out of here." She entwines her hand with his, bringing it up to place a kiss upon the back of it, "Besides, I walked away unharmed and I won did I not?"
Golden eyes open with the gesture. He frowns, knows she is aware of the damage already done to her from these trials, "Just look what you've done to your aether. You practically glow."
"I am fine," she says plainly, looking away. A clear deflection.
"If you say so, hero."
They both know she is lying.
"He doesn't love you, you know that right?" Ardbert never means for his true feelings to seep through, yet the disapproval is palpable. The crossed arms and furrowed brows did nothing to help suggest otherwise either.
"So much for privacy," she mutters.
"You let him do these things to you that will only end in a painful conclusion… do you despise yourself so much to let him use you?"
"It's none of your business whom I spend my time with."
"It is when the world my friends died saving are at stake."
"I know what I'm doing," as unsure as she sounds, there is something she can’t quite define that keeps her on this path.
Ardbert shakes his head. No, you really don’t.
"We can't keep doing this," she whispers.
He ignores her, continues to kiss down her jaw as he follows her pulse, easy to find as it races for him. The raging heat beneath her skin permeates into her aether, delicious against the ice that grips his own. Perhaps that is truly why he's kept this game up so long - the feel of her aether only grew more addictive as the raging Light enhanced it, and it's absence was agony. There will be no unwinding her fragmented soul from his, and that left only one other option that he did not dwell on.
Her entire being aches from the Light absorbed, pinpricks of pure sun piercing. With one warden left still she wants to give up - let the exhaustion claim her, finally sleep. Never should she have been responsible for the fate of any world. Her fingers weave their way into his hair, running through the strands in an attempt to soothe her anxiety.
“What was it like, this other life we had?”
A question he dreaded answering for it was impossible to describe in words alone. To describe paradise to her would be as easy as explaining colors to a man blind his whole life.
“It was a paradise beyond your comprehension, dear. There is nothing to compare it to.”
She closes her eyes, picturing the spires atop the tallest of buildings, the glimmering lights from afar. Her dreams had been consumed by these images, of two blurry figures in the distance, and of one word she could only assume was a name.
“I called you Hades, didn’t I?”
It shouldn’t have stung as much as it did, to hear his name spoken aloud for the first time in decades. He’s aware he’s gone motionless, and she doesn’t need to press any further.
She knows it’s true.
The days rush forward.
She makes her choice to save them. Save herself.
It’s confusing, conflicting. Why does it feel like she’s done this before, making the wrong choice and disappointing him?
There’s no time to ponder, as she faces him again and knows it’s the last time they’ll do this. She’s tired, limbs burning and lungs heaving. The glowing axe pierces through Hades’ chest and it’s as though she’s being carved hollow. His smile is soft, gentle, almost foreign on his face and she hurts even further.
He says to remember and as much as it pains her, she knows she’ll never forget.
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