#𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐑 𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐀,   from   𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐲 𝐱  /  𝐱-𝟐.

this blog is independent,   highly selective,   mutuals only   ,   multiverse   and   +21 only.   i have been writing as yuna for a very long time and she has thus developed throughout the plots and threads that i had the pleasure to write with my fellow partners:   this means that this blog is 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝.

𝐀 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐘 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐅𝐒 𝐎𝐅:     faith and loyalty,   𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅-𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐣𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐛 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞,   the strength of love in its purest forms,   𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 & 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐨𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭,   becoming a beacon of hope in a hopeless world. 

AND I CRIED READING IT OMGGGGG it was so beautiful so full of feelings and sadness and

MY HEART

into   the   day   spun   of   might,   ridden   alive   by   helpless   covetousness   and   unattainable   dreams,   he   came   to   the   battle   lands   bared   of   any   fear   and   to   the   very   frontier   of   hope   against   that   which   would   destroy   life   itself   ㅡ   there   were   elements   of   reality   that   were   beyond   his   half-breed   abilities,   puddles   of   energy   that   sought   to   expand   its   borders   and   thus,   causing   destruction   whenever   their   limbs   reached   what   was,   ultimately,   holy.   though   the   ground   glistened   as   if   rain   itself   had   fallen,   the   liquid   that   shone   wasn’t   as   translucent:   pawns   in   a   game   of   warlords   and   vainglorious   saviours   were   brought   to   their   demise   and   those   who   still   grasped   the   reins   of   life,   would   soon   join   the   mantle   of   the   dead.   it   mattered   not   how   the   grounds   were   putrid   with   the   scent   of   an   imminent   loss,   however,   for   the   beasts   took   stock   of   the   outcome,   considering   their   victories   in   numbers   only.  

he   thought   pragmatically,   focused   on   the   reduction   of   suffering   whilst   trying   to   attack   the   fragile   spots,   but   dared   not   to   minimize   the   beast   before   him:   he   knew   that   one   step   given   wrong   would   renovate   more   chaos   instead   of   a   peaceful   retreat.   the   battle   was   not   over,   the   frustration   seared   upon   damaged   complexion.   how   many   had   fallen   before?   how   many   remained   strong   and   able   to   be   sent   to   the   next   fight?   was   he   all   alone   on   this   one?   he   rounded   up   the   area   for   one   last   moment,   mind   already   lost   in   devastation   ㅡ   upon   the   expanse   of   his   board   chest   were   endless   medals   won   by   successful   hunts,   but   this   one   would   have   to   wait   with   grim   disapproval.

saccharine   vocals   managed   to   usher   a   light   to   his   golden   spheres   [   a   celestial   presence,   a   divinity   sent   by   unthinkable   magic   ]   whilst   the   bars   of   his   ribcage   harboured   the   fury   conceived   by   an   unwanted   loss   and   a   sound   was   thus   produced   from   the   coffin   of   his   throat   upon   trying   to   mark   his   presence.   ❝   yes…   ❞   finding   no   better   position   to   tolerate   the   pain,   he   was   sprawled   on   the   floor   upon   her   arrival   but   managed   to   adopt   a   sitting   position;   not   without   a   growl   pushing   past   his   scarred   tiers.   ❝   if   y’   looking   for   survivors   let   me   sadly   announce   to   you   that   i’m   the   only   one.   ❞   a   barely-there,   but   heavily   bitter   simper   set   upon   hardened   lineaments.   ❝   y’   can   always   give   it   a   go,   just   to   be   certain?   though   i   don’t   recommend   it…   that   thing   is   still   lurking.   ❞

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒 '𝐏𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐄, · 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐓𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐔𝐍𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐃 𝐑𝐈𝐁𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐈𝐓𝐒 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐅𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒       ⸻       𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞,   𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐜𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐧,   𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐞𝐫.       There is grievous silence ‘pon her tongue now,   an unconscious and mayhap unfair reaction to a loss of precious lives that wasn’t entirely expected:   until the very last moment,   she had intimately prayed to the grace of Yevon to be welcomed by cheerful and victorious news,   by fatigued simpers and bittersweet gestures of jests...   Until the very last moment,   SHE HAD HOPED.

It is with mastered elegance that she crouches downwards,   positioning herself to the side of the mysterious scarred warrior   ;   her gaze is still low,   anchored to a soil no longer flourishing or fertile,   as if hypnotized by the splotches of dried ichor scattered all across it.       There is a   TING OF GUILT,   a cold reminder of how useful her powers would have been in battle if only she had been baptized as a full fledged summoner already,   a deep sense of regret that turns acrid and wholly poisonous and that almost manages to steal the precious oxygen from her now shrunken lungs.       Dainty hands are folded one above the other ‘pon her lap,   a futile attempt at ceasing their quivering motions,   and finally the young woman turns towards him   ;   smile is dulcet,   albeit drenched in haunting melancholy.       ❝   It pains me to know this...   I am sorry for your loss.   ❞

                                       〞you reek of impudence.  〞

HARSH ARE THE WORDS THAT SLIP LIKE venom through loose cracks ‘gainst own flesh. he glares, the look in his eyes gone dark like the cave that they wander. he grips his lance with metal armor lest some beast come flying at them from above. & right as he does, so does a swarm of cave bats come tumbling at them, wings flapping in every direction as they soar atop their faces. he knows of which he was speaking, but thinks little of it now. still, he thinks not highly of the partner at his side. he flails slightly, trying to brush them from his sight.

                            〞gah !     –  damn creatures. let your place be known.  〞

he’s talking to the cave bats.

𝐀 𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐁 𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐃𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐋𝐄        ⸻        𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥,   𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬,   𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰,   𝐢𝐧 𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐜𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐬.        His harsh words do not bruise the armor of porcelain flesh that she proudly dons,   nor does he manage to elicit something stronger or angrier than the simple ghost of an exasperated titter from the depth of her throat   ;   he might not be the most amiable of allies,   this is something that she has to lamentably admit to herself,   but she has put her trust in the lance that he tightly holds and she is not one to turn her back on someone simply because they smell not of springtime flowers and warm sunshine.

✉     ⸺    ​​ @ivaios​     𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞. 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐄 !   ┆   accepting.

how has yuna come to view religion because of what happened with yevon?

To say that what has happened with Yevon was a HUGE BLOW to her is totally not enough to describe how she has felt right after the discovery and how she has continued to feel even in the following years.        

Yuna grew up in a tremendously religious environment,   first in the holy city of Bevelle where you could literally breathe the sanctity of the summoners’   (   meaningless   )   sacrifices and the   (   false   )   wisdom of the maesters and then in Besaid where religion had grown not only very deep roots into the lives of its followers,   but had also become petrified and unchanging and the very basis for one’s perception of the world,   an inherent part of the humble existence of the island’s citizens.        With this in mind,   she grew up believing that everything that Yevon preached was the untainted and unquestionable truth,   because why wouldn’t she and all the others believe so   ?   Sin was a punishment for crimes committed in the past and now Yevon solely strived to fix what was wrong,   aiding those in need and protecting those who could not fight for themselves...   It is this,   alongside the sacrifice of her own father,   that convinced her to pursue this path.

It is also important to remember that the history written by Yevon in its sacred texts is   VERY DIFFERENT   from the history of Spira,   as it was twisted and molded to fit the narrative of the temples and of its maesters   [   here you can find a summary of the real history of Spira and here you can find a summary of the history written by Yevon   ]   .        

Yuna grew up seeing the world   THROUGH THE MUDDY AND CORRUPTED PRISM   of Yevon.        So,   once this illusion was broken and the truth came to the surface,   she felt not only betrayed and used by those she trusted,   but mostly   LOST.        Everything that she had done until that point,   everything that she had believed in,   everything that she had clung to and everything that she had found reassurance in,   suddenly meant nothing at all.        Even if we don’t see much of it in the game,   she felt like her own life as a summoner was a life,   no longer something worth of respect and adoration,   but the paper crown for a worthless pawn who simply aided to feed this never-ending cycle of death. 

A PART OF HER DIED AFTER THIS DISCOVERY,   the part of her that had found meaning and comfort in faith,   in the impalpable embrace of someone overseeing the world and helping you in your most arduous and desperate times.        After that moment,   Yuna almost completely ceased to believe in the religious beliefs preached by others,   as it can also be seen by her rather hesitant   (   at times even antagonistic   )   demeanor towards Baralai and his desire to rebuild the temples,   basing Yevon not on lies and deceit,   but on the truth.        I think that this is the one ache that she has yet to learn how to properly deal with:   during her life she has suffered a lot but she has always managed to find the light in the dark and thus leisurely move on,   bandage all the bleeding wounds and thus help them heal but when it comes to her broken faith,   to her distrust towards religion,   she feels stuck.        A part of her blames Yevon and its lies for the death of her mother as Sin was fueled by this false belief,   a huge part of her blames Yevon for the unneeded sacrifice of her father,   an even bigger part of her blames Yevon for the suffering of all those that she has encountered   (   even Seymour would have had a better life if this religion had not ruined and corrupted his existence   )   ...   So how can she heal a wound that is even bigger than her   ?