Dt Spoilers - Tumblr Posts
Ducktales is ending soon... I’m really sad I didn’t find out about the show or fandom sooner but better late than never. I started watching in early 2019 and now it’s coming to a close in 2021. Like I said on my IG, In three season the DT17 Crew was able to create great stories and characters throughout the years and I’ll take quality over quantity any day! I wish good luck to all of those who worked on the show and hope they can create other great content!
FFXIV Writes 2024 - Prompt #1: Steer
Spoilers for Dawntrail MSQ up to level 92 and all the story that comes before it lie beneath the cut! You have been warned.
Xander couldn’t help but chuckle as he settled into his cabin for the evening. How do I always manage to get myself entangled in politics? I keep swearing that this time, this time I’ll do the wise thing and act as an observer as I travel, and yet…
He’d had his misgivings about going to Tural for the sake of aiding the nation’s princess in her bid for the throne from the very beginning. While his time spent in other lands often ended up entwining him inexorably with their political goings-on, this would be one of the first times he was going to a location for explicitly political purposes. Well, aside from his aid in Doma and Ala Mhigo in their liberation from the Empire, but that felt different, and he wasn’t as directly involved in the discussions when the time came to determine what shape the nations would take in the wake of their newfound freedom. There, he was one soldier in a crack squad amongst many revolutionaries.
But this time- this time he’d be traveling to Tural strictly to aid someone in a political maneuver, throwing the weight of his not-inconsiderable strength as combatant and advisor behind whichever person received his backing. And yet, while having met Zoraal Ja himself, he was inclined to agree with Wuk Lamat’s assessment of his character, Xander couldn’t shake a feeling, especially during these early legs of his journey, that he’d been talked into backing the wrong horse.
Wuk Lamat was not ready to lead these people. He’d said as much directly to her father’s face, which was perhaps a lapse in etiquette and diplomacy, but he’d been asked for his honest opinion. She had a good heart, she clearly loved her nation, but she lacked the forbearance, maturity, and, more importantly in his book, the support of her people necessary to give her victory in the Rite of Succession any meaning.
As things currently stood, if she succeeded in the Rite where all others failed, Xander had little doubt that her success would be attributed not to her, but to her cadre of foreign allies, and especially to him, about whom some few rumors from overseas had already begun to circulate. (Though none properly grasped the depth of his deeds, and understandably so, they beggared belief when he considered them from an outsider’s perspective.)
He knew all too well what he looked like, his introversion mistaken for pride and smug superiority, his strategies and candid words to a nation’s leaders taken as strings pulled in a coup d'état at least once. An outsider, the wicked vizier to the throne who held the true political power. (An accusation that, at least for Ishgard, he would be hard-pressed to deny- he’d really charged in like an aurochs in a china shop and destroyed their thousand-year foundational beliefs without a second thought to the repercussions for the people living there, back then. It was little wonder people looked at him either awestruck or askance after he’d nigh-singlehandedly ended the Dragonsong War. The tales always conveniently forgot his comrades and companions in their efforts to tell stories of Great Men, it seemed.)
And who was he to come to Tural to steer the course of its future? Should that not be left to the people who lived there, with his influence far, far away from it?
He remembered asking that question once of his latest lover, a man only all-too-familiar with the concept of barging into another nation and imposing the will of another over it, ere he set out.
“The seeds of Empire are sewn upon two primary concepts: One, that your homeland’s culture is the best of all possible cultures. Two, that all other cultures must, by nature, be primitive, the result of ignorance, or dangerous, and a threat that must be eliminated. You have far more self-awareness than I did at your age, and have ever been to new locations as a learner and observer. You needn’t paralyze yourself from your nature of helping others, so long as you keep an open mind and listen.”
Gaius was right, Xander had to admit. And there was most certainly a difference between imposing one’s will and being invited to play a role.
A role that he was only now coming to understand, in full.
“Guide Lamaty’i in the way that you think best. Walk at her side and, when needed, push her to walk forward.”
He was not here to gain Wuk Lamat glory, but to nurture her. To ensure that she grew into someone truly worthy of the title of Dawnservant. He had been invited to aid her because learning of other people’s perspectives might force her to reconsider her own limited knowledge, and thence grow.
I’m hardly a stranger to mentoring others, be it in the art of combat or simply the life of an adventurer. Xander mused, fiddling with a crown-and-sword-shaped pin he kept fixed to his lapel. This is- while admittedly a much larger task- an evolution of that same mentality. So. Best not to think of this as a means to steer the course of a nation, but rather, a way to steer Wuk Lamat along the paths that will help her grow and aid her people the most. If in so doing, she manages to succeed in the Rite where others fail, then so be it. But even if not… He smiled to himself. It will be worth it to watch another sprout blossom.
FFXIV Writes 2024 - Prompt #4: Reticent
Spoilers for the end of Dawntrail and the Arcadion Raids lie below. You have been warned.
Xander closed his eyes, foot tapping an uneasy rhythm against the floor as the blaring techno beats that defined the music surrounding Solution 9’s continuation in mankind’s ‘grandest’ universal tradition of blood sport echoed in his skull.
Twenty-one souls. All you have to do is succeed in this contest, and twenty-one trapped souls will be freed.
So he’d been promised by that shifty Lalafell- or, Milala, he supposed- Metem, who seemed responsible for announcements in this ‘Arcadion’. A promise that had damned well better be upheld if the bastard hoped to secure his continued cooperation in this nonsense bread and circus designed to placate the grief of the despairing people of Alexandria.
Then again. It wasn’t just Metem to whose expectations he had to rise. The thought of Celeste and M’hana’s eager eyes watching from the crowd filled his mind. Iori would bear witness, too, though he had considerably less interest in sport-fighting than they did.
Gods, I wish I had them watching my back instead of watching me compete right now. Xander thought with a shudder.
He’d never felt this nervous before taking the field of battle. Not in all his five years at the Bloodsands as The Golden Warg. Not in all the battles he’d fought with the fate of the world hanging above his shoulders.
Though he’d shelved his greatsword and tucked away his copied crystal of the Dark Knight, Xander could swear he heard the whispers of his shadow from deep within his soul over the roar of the crowd outside.
You seem reticent, my friend. Do not tell me that you, who stood in the face of Despair itself and won, now balk at so simple a contest. I doubt any foe here is worthy of gracing your blade with their blood.
He sighed. To the voice of his friend, his enemy within himself, he replied, “I’m reticent because I know the cost paid for the crowd’s entertainment here. I’ve fought beasts in the ring before, but something about using beastkin souls as fuel and fighting until I’ve actually slain my foe here sits ill.”
Though it was called ‘the Bloodsands’, in truth, actual deaths in the arena were rare. Waste of valuable fighters. Killing in the ring could easily merit execution in turn. Fights were supposed to be to the point of death, not to the death. Not unless some ungodly sums of coin had changed hands to change it from a fight to an assassination. (Or an ‘unfortunate accident’ had been arranged.)
And here, not only was he expected to slay his foes, he was encouraged to do so, to allow them to use their godsdamned Regulators to drag themselves back to live. Death here, not so much an ending as an inconvenience, so long as one had cleansed souls remaining in reserve.
A multitude of candles of life to burn. And burn them, these fighters did. Wastefully. As if the loss of whoever’s soul they used as fuel mattered not.
Hah. Those who fight without the certainty of death will never know the true meaning of life, the time between the seconds. If you wish to give the lie to their culture of deathlessness, then show them the capabilities of one willing to burn his one candle of life to its very dregs.
Spurred on by the words of his shadow, Xander’s eyes snapped open. “Oh believe me, I will.”
He drew his sword and shield from his back, laying the blade of his sword against his head as an age-old prayer passed his lips. “We who walk in Thal’s halls, for the glory and blessings of Nald, request the blessing of the twin gods. Grant the victor your gilded boons, and the loser safe passage.”
Though the twin gods to whom he prayed had been sent on their way to the Aetherial Sea by his own hand, murmuring the words brought Xander a vague sense of comfort. He could swear he heard Nald’Thal’s approving chuckle at his back as he readied his sword and shield for combat and stepped out into the blinding lights of the Arcadion.
He would show them. He would show them all that their abuse of the souls of man and beast was not only cruel, but pointless. And maybe then, he could finally begin to dismantle this corrupted system in full.
The harp really was perfectly fine with being picked up and carried around by some random buff woman that appeared out of nowhere, huh?
Gosh, what an icon
I noticed there's a huge lack of screenshots and references of the Phantom Blot so I decided to take some myself. Now with unasked for rambling as a bonus.
FEEL FREE TO USE HOWEVER YOU WANT
And remember to click for better quality
He does have a great back shot, like look at him:
Epic
(now with a bonus tiny Lena getting first row to the show where her aunt will finally pay for her war crimes)
Oh, look.
The circus is back in town
Is he...
You know...
I got out of space and it's late af so I'll post more in the reblogs tomorrow. Also, expect some extra expression references bc when the only facial feature is the eyes you kinda may need that.
SECOND ROUND HERE WE GOOOOO
A story in three parts
He looks so badass in here ajsjddjsjjdhf you’re doing amazing sweetie
Believe it or not, I have even more so expect part 3 soon XD
I noticed there’s a huge lack of screenshots and references of the Phantom Blot so I decided to take some myself. Now with unasked for rambling as a bonus.
FEEL FREE TO USE HOWEVER YOU WANT
And remember to click for better quality
He does have a great back shot, like look at him:
Epic
(now with a bonus tiny Lena getting first row to the show where her aunt will finally pay for her war crimes)
Oh, look.
The circus is back in town
Is he…
You know…
I got out of space and it’s late af so I’ll post more in the reblogs tomorrow. Also, expect some extra expression references bc when the only facial feature is the eyes you kinda may need that.
We don't talk about Zenith getting even cuter with her new outfit against all possibility enough smh
H I M
I'll probably focus on the other parts of the ep once I get myself to draw but meanwhile
I??? Love them so much???
Tfw you're a supergenius inventor that can create rays capable of manipulating people's brains and intelligence
But you don't think that MAYBE going to pick up your boss while he's undercover with a huge ass logo that tells everyone you're part of a secret villain organization is a bad idea.
I've been watching this scene on loop for hours
Just
The way Webby just goes to hug her, her little smile when her granny goes to hug back because that means everything will be okay, the way Beakley melts against Webby before reciprocating and ends up smiling too. The others joining and smiling again too.
MY HEART-
No thoughts, only her
I stopped working on my wip of the moment to do this and actually finished it, that should tell you all enough about my current mental state.
DUCKTALES SPOILERS AHEAD!!
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Okay but the fact that this
Happens in the same place and is most likely followed by this
Is scaring me :)
Honey, whatchu waitin' for?
Welcome to our candy store
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Bonus bc I love these too much
Given the whole betrayal thing, I think Beakley should be allowed to go a bit apeshit.
As a treat.
Bonus points if Heron mocks her for trusting him paralleling Magica to Webby in the Shadow War, like c'mon, she's been keeping it a secret for 50 years.
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Bonus the whole page bc it's not good enough to have its own post
.
I'm sorry, I do not control what goes on in my brain.
For his neutral special, Louie wields a gun
3 seasons in and they finally gave Louie a gun! Finally, his character arc is complete!
So how does M'ma know about Louie’s Kids? Wasn't it just for Donald?
It's because it would ruin the true twist.
May and June are.... Diasy's nieces who just happen to look and dress like Webby and Frank has been 5d chessing us into believing them to be clones of Webby.
God I hope I put enough spoiler tags on this.
THERE HAVE BEEN TWO PROMOS AND NONE OF THEM HAVE DAISY IN IT