#and he’s doing that to erenville’s boots

[lilas]

happy wip wednesday again y’all

It feels like it’s been forever since I last posted some for wip wednesday. I just didn’t have much I could or wanted to share. But now… :>

Tagging @lilbittymonster @roguelioness @galadae @impossible-rat-babies @coldshrugs @lavampira @hythlodaes @scionshtola @zylphiacrowley @shadowentei and YOU! IF YOU SEE THIS! Anything creative, anything at all.

Anyway, here’s a little wip about you guessed it Avi’li and Erenville, at some point between 7.0 and 7.1.

—-

The yarn slides through the smooth leather, in and out, through once then through twice in rhythmic motions. Avi’li’s deft fingers maneuver the needle around Erenville’s boot, both turning in his hands as he leverages the material surface area. It’s not the usual Turali stitch pattern, or any pattern normally seen in embroidery. Neither is it chaotic or mindless. Avi’li lays each stitch with exacting purpose. One stitch forms a right angle. The following stitch goes parallel, forming the beginning of a new shape. One shape, moving into the next. Each line contributes to the system of growing geometry stitched on the tongue of Erenville’s boot.

Erenville watches over Avi’li’s shoulder, stretched out on the rickety, threadbare bed in Iyaate’s spare room. The room is drafty and not completely free of dust (can anything in Shaaloani be?), but it beats a bedroll on the ground in a tent.

“What do the shapes mean?” Erenville asks. Avi’li’s head adjusts and the ends of his shaggy hair brush against the bed. Erenville reaches out, grasps several hairs lightly between his fingers.

“Many things.” Green eyes catch the dust mottled light as Avi’li turns his head and shoulders to look back at Erenville. “They’re all based on the same basic design principles.” He lifts the boot he‘s working on. The thick embroidery needle sits embedded in the leather, shiny and new in comparison to the scuffed steel toecaps. Avi’li points to the circle he just stitched.

[zylphiacrowley]

I'm not sure about the canon implications of it, but I really like the idea that after he quit his job, Erenville started wearing clothing from his home again. I'm not sure if the area right next to Tesh'pyani village was always called The Thunderyards, or if it became called that after the merge of Yyasulani and Alexandria, but since the gear he's wearing is a custom(?) version of the Thunderyards gathering set (plus the MNR job specific boots) and the design of the clothing doesn't look like it fits with the Alexandrian sense of style, I can only assume that it's of Yyasulani design.

I'm doing a really bad job of saying that I think it's neat that the gear he's wearing now that he gets the choice of what to wear is something that probably reminds him of his home and all the people from it. Don't get me wrong I really love the gleaner gear as well, and he looks good in that, but I like that his new gear (in my mind at least) seems much more personal to him as a character.

[yuri-cocaine]

trucking along on msq

-bakool ja ja i owe you an apology. i wasn't familiar with your game.

-i ran into some fuckass weirdo who held up the whole run of skydeep cenote to complain about how much they hate msq. holy shit ive never seen anyone do this even for arr and sb. i tried vote kicking but it didnt work :/ block v'runja raqu on balmung to save yourself a big headache

-every zone is gorjus but my fav zone so far is urqopacha, fav zone music is kozama'uka, and fav towns are in yak tel. theres something really cozy about hroth town and mamook is a beautiful stonework city in a blue magical forest. mamook reminds me of lost city of amdapor but Blue. ive headcanoned yuma's hometown of camoa village to be something similar so maybe i can gpose in mamook instead of queueing into amdapor

-zoraal ja is my failhusband. all he does is scowl and want everyone to die in a big war. talking to everyone in the landsguard hq is kinda funny bc they're all like uhhhhh when's commander zoraal ja coming back. is he even coming back or...???

-awwww im glad wuk lamat made koana co-dawnservant ;w; now they can build infrastructure

-gulool ja ja's "oh right" when he tried looked at his brother's head and stopped casting his big fireball is rly sad now bc his brother isn't asleep, he's dead :( imagine living with your brother's dead head grafted onto your body for three years. what if it....starts to smell bad......

-as much as i like wuk lamat, i really didnt enjoy the feats so im really excited to travel xak tural with erenville. shaaloani's desert landscape is also gorjus with the graphics update bc before all that sand would just be a badly textured lump (sagolii desert...)

-the fact that ppl in shaaloani have american accents is taking me out LMFAO

-my theory for why erenville has such a strong icelandic accent is bc in addition to taking an eastern viera name, he also copied the eastern viera accent. as for why vieras living in othard have icelandic accents, uh...other than it being a carry over from ff12, maybe viera language is just. icelandic. but in dalmasca.

-ive always thought sharlayan is the scandinavia of etheirys but they're also greek-ish so who even knows at this point.

-in elpis, there's a sidequest where an ancient has a yellowish cactuar called notos 626 and he couldn't think of a suitable name for it. in urqopacha, the same kind of cactuar is all over the place and they're called notocactuar!!! so in the end, i guess he never named it :0

-why are the nopalitenders so fucked up.......estinien likes eating them tho

-i bet my cowboy boots that the sheriff in town is corrupt and it's up to a rootin' tootin' by god be shootin' young upstart to challenge him and restore peace to the wild west

-and by that, i mean the wol. wol will restore peace. i love that erenville just does not fight at all, so when those mad max from shein lookin ass bandits threatened to hang erenville up by the ears i got so protective of him LMFAO eat the full force of my level 100 burst bitch

-im not fucking bakool ja ja

[rydiathesummoner]

Ranking the shittiest moms in FFXIV

#6: Matoya

"Mentor" my ass. If Thancred is Ryne's dad, Matoya is Y'shtola's mom. Matoya made this list for the sole reason that she made Y'shtola grow up in a damn cave. Why? Why a dark cave? It's ok if Matoya didn't want to go back to anything related to Sharlayan. There are plenty of other places to take your protegé. That said, even though she speaks harshly she loves Y'shtola. She gripes, but she always helps Y'shtola and her friends. She's never like "you're an adult now, piss off." She worries about Y'shtola's health. It could have been worse.

#5: Julyan Manderville

She's a loving and doting mother, until someone indicates she's old. Then it's lights out. With a frying pan. Have you ever held a cast iron pan? No wonder Gilgamesh went through the wall. Girl is slinging brain damage left and right for the sin of assuming she's over 21. Even though she has an adult son. She booted her son over a continent. No really, a literal continent. I'd call that terrible abuse except... you know, Hildebrand and all that... not like he can die.

#4: Cahciua

There's no doubt that Cahciua loves Erenville. However, she was the mom who dumps her kid on friends and relatives so she can maintain her pre-baby lifestyle. Lady you chose to have a kid. You have to adapt. A kid-free lifestyle is unattainable when you have a kid. She strikes me as the type to have a kid for the "adventure" of raising a kid, then they don't do any of the work but still go on about how hard parenthood is.

#3: Teeshal Ja

This lady. She genuinely thought she could baby-trap Zoraal Ja. Bitch, how dumb can you be. I still want to know if for her "boon" she actually asked to have sex with him, or just requested his splooge and made a clone. Either way, Gulool Ja was a means to an end for her, not a beloved son. That said, she didn't toss him in the trash when Zoraal Ja left, and she made an effort to hide him from danger so she's not as awful as she could have been.

#2: Athena:

Holy hell where to begin. She had a kid with a guy she used for power. While most parents want the best for their kids, Athena very deliberately made her son wimpy and compliant. She never loved Erichthonios. To her, he was a specimen. Had she achieved godhood, she would have tossed him in the trash without a second thought. Her last moments were spent telling Erichthonios "ew, you're so useless." Bitch. You deserve to spend eternity in a room full of voice #4 lalas.

#1: Asahi's mom/Yotsuyu's aunt

I started this list thinking Athena would be the obvious winner. But then I remembered this sack of shit. She sold her adopted daughter into prostitution. She didn't feed her. At the end, she had absolutely no remorse about how she treated Yotsuyu. Hell, her last words to Yotsuyu were like "ugh, why don't you just die already? That would be so much more convenient for me!" And it's not just Yotsuyu. She also raised Asahi. You know, the little shit. She raised him to be a little shit. She taught him that abuse and neglect are fine. She utterly failed at both kids she raised. Here's why she's worse than Athena: the Athenas of the world commit "big" crimes that get talked about. This bitch doesn't even get a name. No historian will look at Yotsuyu's crimes and mark down the actions of the woman who raised her. Her cruelty is insidious and silent in comparison to big world events, and because of that this kind of cruelty is widespread and goes unpunished. The Yotsuyu's Moms of the world have caused more collective harm to humanity than one-off psychos like Athena. This cunt deserves to spend eternity in a room full of voice #5 miqo'tes. All bards. All going WAO! WAO! WOOOO! WOO! like a damn police siren. All day. And when they are not waoing, they are playing shitty off-key midi songs, and all of them are slightly out of sync in the song. You deserve it.

[tobyfoxmademeascaly]

Dawntrail Part 18

in which WHAT THE FUCK? WHAT THE FUCK.

(boots game) (bombastic and joyous title theme plays) (logs in and is placed down in burned tuliyollal as The Sad Dawntrail Music plays)

you've heard of Baby Lizard Delight. Now get ready for. BABY LIZARD DESPAIR

yshtola has new Arcane Mysteries to obsess over. its a new squeak toy to her and she's not going to stop chewing on it until the squeaker is torn out

gulool ja ja's palace being built for a 20 foot tall absolutely ripped lizard man and wuk lamat (+ koana) looking so puny in the doorway by comparison. something something big shoes to fill something something visual metaphor

His first attack was an ambush. he will not get another.

yknow ive been asking that myself

ESTINIEN

hey Stinky

to the people of tuliyollal, the auto-soldiers are a horrifying threat that are difficult to put down. to estinien and similar freaks of nature (me), they're just another tuesday

... well, if we're willing to sacrifice a train...

(sickos.jpg) yes.... YEEEEESSSS!

oh i know YOU'D love this plan

dont say it like that

ohhh EEPY

i am sensing a dungeon.

THE CAT THE WIZARD THE LEGEND

(one excellent action scene later)

grinning like a madman. I love this.

YAAAY

NOOO I GOTTA LEAVE ALISAIE BEHIND AGAIN

oh this is some sonic the hedgehog-ass music.

the acceleration bomb is MEAN. i was TOTALLY standing still you dipshit debuff

(points) inferior mullet possessor

what do you think you are, a fromsoft boss? get back down

... wait, what was that about souls?

see? turning into a snake NEVER helps.

oh erenville.

doesn't time flow differently on other shards? There's something very odd going on here.

this has been a VERY bad day for erenville

HAND ON HEART WOMAN

of COURSE the wannabe Alexander the Great comes from ALEXANDRIA

anyways I'm out of image slots so next time: WHAT THE FUCK? (cont.)

[dholwrites]

Coming Home

Notes: Happy (late) Birthday gift from myself to myself. Have I been gone most of 2023? Yes, but don't worry about that. Relationship: Erenville x OC (Junior) Rating: General Summary: Erenville comes home after a long day at work and the sight he saw is enough to melt away any snow

Getting specimens from the docks of Sharlayan into Labyrinthos is always a hassle, regardless of how often he’s done it. Rock samples can break, plants are susceptible to frostbite, and live animals are happy to show you how much they do not like being removed from their home.

After loading the last of the containers onto the boat, he takes a second to stretch his back and look around. The weather had turned from clear skies to heavy snow since he stepped off the boat, but it did not deter the people from getting their work done. Young scholars trying to get a bite to eat under the cover of the Last Stand, researchers rushing indoors to keep their papers from getting soaked, and even his fellow gleaners continuing to take inventory despite the snow gathering on their hats and shoulders.

The world-ending crisis was averted not too long ago; if anything, he should be spending time relaxing. On any other day, he might have been motivated to start the next task or even plan for tomorrow. But right now, the only thing he longs for is a warm drink and seeing his love. 

Yet here he is, still doing his job. 

“I’m surprised that you’re still at it, I figured you would be on your way home by now.” The male elezen, Harlissand, didn’t even look up from counting the cargo when he made his remark. Erenville faintly remembers when the man admitted that he barely felt any change in his workload before and after the world was saved from another calamity. “Unless you are trying to stall time to find a gift for your partner.” 

“What makes you say so?”

“Frankly, you’ve been staring longingly towards the residential area for the last bell now. So, I would have expected you to be heading off.” Harlissand even gave a nonchalant shrug, “It's not like you have something that needs to be done today, right?”

“I… I suppose you are right. I assume you don’t mind making sure the specimens get where they need to be?” When a proper reason didn’t pop into his head, Harlissand waved him off without another word and Erenville took it as his chance to get away. 

He had never been more relieved to step into his shared home, especially when he could feel the snow stuck to his hair and clothes. The ambient heat was working its magic on the chill that seeped into his bones, and he could feel the sensation returning to his stiff fingers again. It didn’t take him long to kick off his wet boots and set down the heavy backpack. Only when he peeled off the top layer of his uniform did he note how quiet it was.

Junior should have been home bells ago. The only evidence that he returned was the pair of muddied boots sitting in the corner waiting to be cleaned, yet there was not even a peep from the miqo’te. Not far into the house, Erenville picks up the sound of crackling flame from the living room before poking his head in to check if his partner is there instead.

He couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight before him. A nest of pillows and blankets was made underneath the window facing the front of the house, the glass already covered in frost and snow. What melted his heart was the person curled up at the center of the nest. Junior had fallen asleep on his side with the hood of his fat cat sweater pulled up to shield his face from the sun, but it had started to fall off during his nap and now a single ear poked out from under the fabric.

Erenvile makes sure to brush off the last snow from his person before creeping into the room. He took one steady step after another, closer until he was just an arm’s length away. Being this close he could spot the green-colored tail tucked under Junior as it wrapped loosely around for him to hold like a stuffed animal. The room was filled with purrs and he looked no different from a cat sunning in the afternoon light.

“Junior,” the word came out barely just a whisper, yet his ear slightly twitched at the sound. 

“Spíra,” this time a little louder and his eyelashes flutter as he rolls onto his back. 

“Strjana.” Only then did he let out a soft hum when his purring stopped. His eyes slowly opened and Erenville could watch as his brain began to register the world around him.

Not a second later, Junior’s attention focuses on him and the smile he got is enough to melt any snow. 

ALT image

Thank you:

@sileniadream for the Meteion Divider @luxicorde for helping with the edits and Sky for the the adorable work that goes with this work ❤️

[hopeandduty]

Day 20: Duel

He thought he would mind the heat of Shaaloni’s desert more, but much to his surprise it was far more agreeable than the humidity of the Far East. His travels across Tural have been entertaining as they’ve been largely uneventful and Estinien has very much enjoyed seeing all it has to offer. Galool Ja Ja had graciously offered him passage to Xak Tural amidst other rewards for having agreed to their match and he fully intended to make the most of it. It has been a plethora of new sights, a few familiar faces notwithstanding. 

But with the Scions disbanded, even if only in name, the business with the rite of succession that as brought them here, is not his to mind and so he has made certain at the very least he not get in their way. He doubts even the Salt can keep the messiness of politics away and has no intention of getting himself wrapped in any such mess. Shaaloni, at least, seems a far simpler place; at least when the deputy sheriff is not in league with the local bandits. 

He might have expected the moment he saw she was here, that she’d be at the heart of unraveling that little scheme.

It is his full intent to take to the road again, to find the dust beneath his boots and perhaps learn about this ‘locomotive’ that has everyone so excited. A journey that should be a simple one; he really ought to know better by now. 

The figure that walks out onto the road before him is tense and hostile and Estinien has pulled his lance before he truly sees who is standing there. Ciardha stands at the centre of his path and her remaining eye is fixed upon. She holds her own lance in her grip, making her intent fully clear. She holds mastery over many a weapon, but always used her lance when they would spar. A battle between dragoon ought to be conducted properly, she would insist, and it was clear she intended to insist today. 

“You know I’m always glad to do some training,” Estinien calls down the empty road. “But don’t you have company right now?” 

“Oh, do not worry about me,” Erenville’s voice startles him. Estinien had not even spotted Ciardha’s erstwhile traveling partner until he made his presence known. Two peas in a pod those two. “I was promised a rather entertaining duel, and I admit I am eager to see it.” 

So that was the way of it. Well then. Far be it from him to deny her. 

Estinien takes the first jump and the moment he is in the air is the moment he takes control. Here was where a dragoon fought best, untethered and sparking above their enemies. He spins the familiar weight of his lance and plunges at his target. Ciardha remains motionless, watching him with lightning precion for so long he worries for a moment she intends to forfeit. 

Her spear moves so quickly Estinien barely keeps track of it. It slams against his own and tips him off balance and he feels the crunch of it against his armour. He tries to recover but she is faster still, inside his space with her elbow slamming into his chest. Estinien reels backwards and pulls his lance up just in time to block her thrust. 

This is entirely unlike their usual spars. He’ll not pretend he could defeat her easily, but they were always more or less evenly matched in their spearwork. He’s hardly let his own skills rust, but since he left Eorzea’s shores, her skills have grown even more. Where did she keep pulling such strength from? And why, in this moment, was she using it so ruthlessly? 

Their bouts were never easy, but they engaged his attention and filled the spaces between them with banter and challenge. This silent exchange has the warm of Coerthas’ snows, and if he didn’t know better he would think she was truly trying to end him. 

“Not going easy, are you?” he smirks and summons enough strength to push her back. She twists in the air and lands upon the nearest stone. Without answering she launches again, and Estinien is forced into a flurry of parries that grow heavier and heavier with each hit. This kind of attack, Estinien knows well.  

“Why are you so angry?” he manages between the ringing of metal. 

“I’m not angry.” The punctuation is the slam of her lance, launching him full force into the ground. Dirt and dust explodes in a cloud around him and his lungs cough in protest. 

“She’s angry…” he mutters to himself and he can swear he hears that damned gleaner laughing. 

“Fine.”  He’s never been good with words anyways. He readies his lance and prepares to return the blow. If Ciardha doesn’t wish to answer, he’ll give his own in the only way he knows. His spear hums in anticipation.

This- This is a language he understands.

[soulstitcher]

An Ear for Comfort

———

Erenville stomped down the street, teeth gritted and muscles rigid. He’d just had to run into that bastard. An ex-colleague of his that liked to get under his skin and piss him off. He’d make comments about this and that, slowly making Erenville’s eye twitch and his hands claw into fists.

And this time, the fucker decided to say something about Aegis. His other half. The love of his life. While everyone, even he, knew she had her flaws and she wasn’t afraid to admit it…that did not mean he would stand to hear it out of someone else’s mouth.

“What did you say?” Erenville had quietly asked, slowly turning to face him.

“What? That you bagged yourself a savage whore?”

“Say that again. See what happens,” he whispered, his voice daring him.

“That girl of yours is a whore —“

No more was said after Erenville’s fist connected with his jaw.

Now, after a nasty reprimand by a Forum official, he was storming home, positively fuming at the racism hidden under Sharlayan’s veneer of intelligence.

He got inside, threw off his coat and boots, and stalked off to his and Aegis’s room. She was inside at the desk, devising a schematic for a new firearm feature on behalf of Skysteel, minding her own business. She jumped when Erenville threw open the door, shut it behind him, and fell face-first onto the bed, groaning in frustration.

Aegis was not expecting him to be home so early, but she knew that something had upset him. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” she asked. “Did someone insult you again?”

“No, they insulted you,” he said, voice muffled until he turned his head to face her.

Aegis sighed heavily and put her pen down. She knew how to fix this. She crawled onto the bed, sat back against the pillows, and beckoned to her lover. He obediently laid his head in her lap, long furry ears flopping over her leg. She threaded her fingers through his hair and started kneading the tense muscles, helping him relax.

Once she was sure he’d cooled off just a little bit, she went in for the kill. She started gently stroking his ears, before deftly rubbing them, until she was vigorously scratching them.

First Erenville was leaning into her touch, then humming or purring in delight, then happily kicking a foot out. It took all of her mental strength to not collapse in giggles, and yet an amused snort still escaped her.

“Why do you have to do this to me?” Erenville said between purrs. “You know it makes my brain melt.”

“Because you don’t chill out near as often as you should…and we all know I’m your one weakness,” Aegis told him, a wicked grin on her lips.

Erenville moaned in both annoyance and satisfaction, and as she went back to massaging his shoulders, he reached out to stroke the scales on her arm, gently tracing the patterns etched into her skin. Eventually his hand drifted down to her tail, gently touching the blue ribbon tied above the barbs at the end. By the time his fingers were brushing over her thigh, all the tension he’d felt from the bad encounter had drained from him, leaving nothing but loving bliss.

“I’d say someone is feeling better,” she whispered, her thumb gently brushing over his cheekbone.

Erenville, addicted to her touch, sat up and clambered over her, until he was nearly sitting in her lap, head tucked into the crook of her neck and practically purring.

Aegis rolled her eyes with a smile and kissed his ear, settling in herself.

Relaxed, indeed.

[domesticatedanimal]

FFXIVWrite2024

Prompt 19: Taken

NSFT, explicit content. M/F. Erenville x fWoL

Strike While it's Hot

Dust rose behind the two riders in a great cloud, chasing them through the desert and casting them both in shadow. Erenville bounced on the back of a stocky Rroneek, but Sif had given up on the local custom and switched to her chocobo several towns back. She longed to tease him from her higher seat, but had to admit that he rode that beast well.

“Years of practice in another life,” he had explained that morning. He truly was in his element. As much as Erenville had tried to run from his past, Sif had never seen him this at ease. His muscles relaxed, and his usual dour personality had lightened considerably, despite the misery of the past month in Tural.

It was a strange transition for Sif, who had to marry this new image of Erenville with the brooding gleaner she knew from Sharlayan. Sometimes she wished he had remained the same. It would make things much easier.

It was nearing sunset when the next little town popped up over the horizon. Erenville shared its name, but Sif could neither remember nor pronounce it. There had been a lot of towns like this as they continued their tour of Xak Tural. The trip now lacked purpose, but it was something they could both do to escape their respective responsibilities for a while.

The town had a small stable for their mounts, a few ramshackle houses, and a saloon that was entirely too large for its surroundings. The surrounding land was peppered with small crop fields in varying levels of health, but otherwise there was next to nothing nearby. The overhead piping indicated that a ceruleum operation had lived here once, long before the rust and decay set in.

She let Erenville lead, absently following his boot prints while craning her head around to take in the town. After countless yalms of sand and cacti, even old barrels and fences were interesting. He led them to the saloon, and up the truncated stairs onto its porch.

Luckily, someone was working inside. Even more luckily, they had a room to rent and it was currently empty. The pair of them sat at the bar, quietly nursing ale while the owner prepared their room upstairs. Sif’s mind was already in the future, picturing that warm bath, a proper bed, and some soft covers.

She was only halfway done with her drink when the saloon owner returned, but she needed no coaxing to call it a night.

There was little shame between the two of them, at this point. A month on the road, sharing meager space, had a tendency to work that out of you. They had bathed together, they had shared beds and tents together, and nary an impure thought had entered their minds.

But something was different, tonight. It may have been alcohol on an empty stomach. It may have been sheer exhaustion. Whatever it was, Sif felt supernaturally aware of herself. She crouched in the wooden tub, her ears flicking at every sound. Why is her heart racing? Footsteps on the stairs.

In a flash, she stood, dripping, and threw a blanket around herself. It was stifling hot in the room, but a girlish nervousness was working its way through her body.

Erenville popped into the room, stretching in a series of mild cracks. He stopped mid-movement when he saw her.

“Done with the bath… are we?”

Sif nodded silently.

“And you plan to soak the sheets for what reason?”

“You startled me,” Sif felt herself blushing. Were those chocobo bumps on her skin?

She felt Erenville’s confusion. She wasn’t herself, and she knew it was obvious. Fortunately, he was either oblivious to her nerves, or was choosing to ignore it. He seemed to give her a gentle shrug, and turned toward the tub.

Gods, she thought, get it together.

Erenville began to free himself of the trappings of the road. To Sif, it seemed to be an agonizingly slow process. His old gleaner’s coat came off first, tossed recklessly onto the back of a chair. He wore a thin linen shirt under it, and the sweaty fabric clung lasciviously to his frame. A tightly-knotted sash unwound from his waist, tossed to the floor.

Sif found herself leaning forward, and forced herself back. She flopped onto the bed, steel eyes staring out from the blanket and skin tinted red. Erenville tugged the shirt up and over his head, shaking his ears free. He stretched again, and Sif swallowed hard. The lantern line shone on his dark skin, every line of muscle and bone seeming to teem with glitter. Erenville’s thumbs slipped into the waist of his breeches, and a meek cry slipped from between Sif’s lips as she slammed her eyes closed.

“Are you feeling ok?” Erenville turned to her, genuine concern in his face.

Sif nodded vigorously. “Just a little worn out, I think.”

“Well…” The blanket had slipped a little, and Erenville’s gaze fell onto the sloping curve of skin from her clavicle to her humble breasts. He blinked. “As long as you feel as well as you look… Rather, as long as you are not ill.”

I don’t know what I am, she thought.

“If you don’t mind, I would like to get the road off of my skin.”

Are his eyes on me, again? Sif shifted, consciously making no effort to adjust the blanket. It was soaked through by now, anyway.

Erenville turned back to the bath, somewhat less gracefully than before. Sif kept her eyes open.

The sharp dimples at the base of Erenville’s spine flexed as he lifted a leg to slip out of the breeches, highlighting an ass earned through years of hiking across the star. He stepped into the tub delicately, and Sif ran her eyes up calf and thigh, darting at the hint of something past his hip. Her pulse was racing now, and her saliva felt thick in her throat. There was a deep heat in her abdomen which seemed to flick out to her toes and the base of her ears.

Sif had bedded with women before, but never a male. The thought wasn’t without appeal, but it had never taken her like this before. What would it be like, she wondered, to not be the one in charge? She became aware that she was digging her nails into one thigh, and made an effort to relax. After all, what made her think he had any interest in pursuing this?

She glanced up, and noticed Erenville’s arm moving in the water.

Is he?

Sif gave in. She let the blanket fall from her shoulders, and rose from the bed. She felt an aching yearning that was altogether foreign to her. Padding gently across the floor, she held her breath in anticipation. Directly behind the tub, she watched her companion as he quietly and delicately stroked himself.

Something awoke in her; some primal drive that had lain dormant for decades. She dropped down, wrapping her arm around Erenville’s bare chest. He jumped, abandoning his work.

“Sif! I can…”

“Shut up,” she purred, closing her mouth over his. He did not pull away.

Sif helped him stand, and pulled him back toward her as the water dripped from his frame. Her back hit the wall as he fell onto her, his tongue as hungry as hers. Sif worked her arm between them and grasped his hard flesh, shocked at its heat. Erenville held her against the rough wood wall, his hands clawing over her body.

“Godsdamn you,” he broke the kiss to growl, “if you start this, I don’t think I can stop.”

Sif squeezed him, pulling him toward her and guiding his length to her.

“Then don’t.”

Erenville buried his teeth in her neck, drawing a loud groan from her throat. He held her hips and lifted, and Sif followed the lead, wrapping her legs around his ebony waist. Her thighs trembled against his hips as he pushed forward, making them one. She fell into him, crying out into his chest, getting drunk on the heady scents of leather and dust and sun steaming off of his skin.

Framed portraits shook on the wall from the power of Erenville’s movement, but still Sif was grinding into him, lost in the ecstasy of the moment. Her breath was ragged and uneven, every other exhale coming out as a swear. Electricity fired up her spine and she threw her head back, shouting a desperate cry into the air. Erenville met her lips, kissing her deeply, pinning her against the wall harder still. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, breaking his skin as her nails dug into him.

And in a moment, they collapsed into each other. They held the kiss, drowning in the taste of each other as they embraced. They stayed entwined for a moment, each afraid to be the first to move. She shivered as he freed himself from her, before guiding her to the bed.

Sif breathed deeply. She could still feel him. This was something she could get used to. Erenville was beside her and above her, nibbling her neck, kissing her breasts, her stomach…

“I had no idea you were so insatiable,” Sif sighed.

“To be fair,” he smiled. Had he always been this handsome? “With most women, I am not this insatiable.” Kisses lower. Deeper. “But you are not most women.”

“Even for a Viera, that’s an old line.”

Erenville frowned.

Sif laughed, slipping her fingers into the black tangle of his hair. “But I didn’t say stop.”

---

Hot coffee, a knowing glare from the saloon’s owner, and freshly watered mounts later, they were back on the road. Whatever had ignited in them that night, it rarely returned. The journey would press on, many exhausting yalms to go. And every now and then, when the night was cold or frustration was high, they would let instinct take them.

[steak-n-popotoes]

FFxivWrite '24 - 10

"Is something the matter, Beef?" Erenville asked.

L'kozu stopped and looked back over his shoulder. It seemed Beef had stopped short of setting foot on the bridge. For some reason, he was studying the flagstones and support pillars rather intensely.

"Beef? We've a long walk ahead of us, we had best get moving."

But Beef still dawdled at the Xak Tural Skygate.

L'kozu glanced toward Erenville, and could already feel a stern look burning a hole in the side of his head. Alright, time for some interpretation, then.

Judging by how long Beef's gaze lingered on the stones versus the carvings upon them, it wasn't the decoration that had caught his eye. What's more, when something of that nature held his attention, Beef had a tendency to take out his sketchbook and capture their likeness. Gale usually trained her sights on the subject while Beef focused on the drawing. Or perhaps in this case he would have taken a charcoal rubbing...

Hold on a moment, where was Gale? L'kozu looked around, but she didn't appear to be in Beef's immediate vicinity... He subconsciously patted his traveling bag around the crystals pocket, but felt no intruders. Though he could try to listen for her feathers rustling, the sound of the falls would drown out any attempt. Where in the world...?

While Kozu looked around for the little beast, his eyes locked briefly with Erenville's. This is another reason why it is more simple to travel alone, Kozu's companion said wordlessly.

In the upper corner of Kozu's vision was a flutter of green feathers. After craning his neck to get a better look, it seemed to be that Gale was surveying the upper support structure of the bridge. At that distance she was likely straining the 'tether' between her and Beef, which was doubtless taxing for the both of them. Surely he wouldn't do so without good reason...

Was Beef trying to ascertain the bridge's structural integrity?

"Beef, I assure you, the bridge is quite stable."

This comment seemed to snap Beef out of his focus, and he looked up at Kozu in surprise. Gale hadn't returned yet, though, nor did he take the first step. Well, at least he had the boy's attention.

"I can tell that the structure and placement of the stones is very sturdy. You trust my judgment, right?" Kozu smiled. A half-truth, as the Yok Huy's masonry baffled L'kozu in its precision and ingenuity and remained a bit outside of his purview, but there was no need to trouble Beef with such details that moment.

"This bridge has been here much longer than the capital has, and it will no doubt remain long after we're gone. It won't collapse today."

As he waited for Beef (and Gale) to come around, Kozu wondered what Beef had noticed that had given him pause to begin with. A structure this large would likely have some level of sway to it, but such movements would be near-imperceptible unless measured intentionally, or perhaps if someone with exacting vision... viewed it from...

Kozu's eyes wandered to Hunu'iliy, the lighthouse towering over the nearby Landsguard barracks.

"Beef," Kozu asked, "have you been climbing things you oughtn't again?"

Though he had been staring as per usual, Beef suddenly became very interested in his boots.

L'kozu sighed. "Just show me the sketches you took later. I'm sure the view was lovely."

[little-froggie-enclosure]

A Worthy Successor

Fandom: FFXIV

Characters: Deryk, Erenville

Word count: 944

I had a dream about Erenville being one of the Twelve and it took over my brain so now you get this. Enjoy :U

“We did the very same in the days of eld.” Deryk smiled. He let his legs hand over the edge of the cliff and the sea air kiss his fluttering fox brown locks. Green eyes on the Aldenard coast, he thought of a friend lost to time but captured in those brilliant blue eyes, that indomitable spirit and that incredible love for the star. He felt power stirring within him and wondered if the others had felt the same before they’d commended everything they’d been to a mortal.  If Venat had felt the same when seeing those inspiring blue eyes when passing Azem to his dearest friend. “You would die, then.” The viera’s brows furrowed, his expression confused. Erenville stood behind the old god and his hands formed fists. “Besides which- why me? I travel much to be certain, yet… The Warrior of Light, she would be a far more suitable candidate, yes?” Deryk laughed at the gleaner’s assertion. “She would, wouldn’t she?” He smiled. “And yet, she has already been bequeathed a great power of her own. I would not inundate her with more.” Erenville paused at those words. “...Another’s?” Deryk nodded. “Aye, another Traveler, much alike to the both of us. He was Shepard to the Stars, the voice of the people. And a beloved friend.” The viera relaxed his hands. “That still does not explain why you wish to make me Wanderer. Why? I…I am no fighter, no leader.” Deryk gathered  a handful of silken sand from beside him on the clifftop. He raised it hand and let the wind carry it away. “Because you have the heart of a Wanderer, my young friend. You love this star no less fiercely than Meteor or I. You value the natural world and wish for its preservation.” Deryk lowered his hand then turned to glance over his shoulder. Erenville was transfixed by those brilliant green eyes. “I was a fighter. But the next Wanderer need not be if he would not choose thusly.” Erenville stared down at his boots, anything to avoid being caught in that powerful, bottomless gaze. “...And will you vanish as your fellows did? Choose to die because your duty is finished?” Deryk frowned. “Is that what vexes you about this?” “How could a man choose his own death so casually not?” Erenville replied. “There is so much to see on this star that surely…” The viera trailed off.

“I never said that I planned to die, Erenville.” Deryk hummed. Erenville’s long ear twitched. He snapped his gaze up, his nose twitching curiously. Before he could open his mouth to inquire, the god answered. “You see…After our mutual friends placated the Twelve’s desire to deplete our energy in combat, I was encouraged to follow my own heart. To that end, I have chosen to walk this planet as a man rather than a god.” Deryk lifted his legs and pushed up with his arms to get to his feet. He turned around. His travel worn cape fluttered in the breeze. “Not to mention that even our great hero did not manage to spend everything we were given by Hydaelyn. And so we all have chosen promising candidates to take over our seats. To carry our wisdom and continue to guide the star through this time of transition.”

Erenville frowned. “I am no god, Oschon.” “Deryk now, if you please.” The man chuckled. “Neither was I. I was a but man once, one who loved this world like you do. It is not lightly that I offer this seat to you.” The gleaner stared out across the salt. Perhaps somewhere off in the distance, in Tural, his mother prattled on about another adventure. Travel was in his blood. His soul yearned for it. And when he thought of how much the Final Days had rattled him, things suddenly fell into place.

His expression relaxed. “Understand, then, that I do not…” He sighed deeply, shook his head in disbelief. “That I do not accept your offer lightly either.” Deryk smiled. A man with so youthful a face had no place with such a wise expression. He rested a hand on Erenville’s shoulder. The weight was comforting, grounding.

“And you will have the benefit of a mentor who still walks the lands, at least for another good fifty years or so. Perhaps more, if I am so fortunate.” Erenville fixed Deryk with a flat expression but that only served to make the god laugh again. “I am serious! This is no fleeting thing, what you choose. I have the utmost faith in you.” Deryk gently brushed dark waves from Erenville’s forehead and touched his fingers to its center. “Do not fear what you become- but do not underestimate it either. Remain yourself, Erenville,” The sound of Deryk’s voice became distant as aether from another age poured like a raging river into Erenville’s body. The viera could not speak, frozen in place as he felt the energies of a god sear through his veins to kill and revive him anew. “Because the man you are is worthy of being the Wanderer.” Erenville found he could not answer. His last sight before everything went dark was a baby opo-opo clambering up Deryk’s slender form and perching on his shoulder. The god smiled as his divinity ebbed and peace and relief overtook his features. Erenville surrendered to the shadow of unconsciousness, knowing that when he awoke, he would be the Wanderer. That Deryk would be free to live out his remaining years travelling the star secure in the knowledge of a worthy successor chosen. That Erenville would next open his eyes to Etheirys as a god. 

[lilas]

important Erenville in 7.1 thoughts and feelings beneath cut

I looove his new fit so much, like it’s so discordant and wild to me.

Like what do you mean this guy woke up and was like “I’m going to put on the comfiest, loosest clothes that are both loudly patterned, but also I need to wear these heavy duty steel toed boots for field work. And because I’m doing field work I need to put on these forearm length fingerless gloves in case I handle prickly pants or animals but still need to retain dexterity so the fingerless part is important.”

Like he chose to wear all of this and put it together. This man cares not for fashion, he just likes wearing what he likes and if it doesn’t go together he doesn’t give a single fuck!

I love him sm, I need to design all of the discordant wonderful weird outfits for him.

[mmorpg-escapism]

So Zoraal Ja is making his move... And we didn't get nearly enough warning. Because signal jammers, of course. This might be really poor timing given what Erenville just discovered about his mother, but there's nothing we can do about it now.

We can't really afford to worry about Tuliyollal, either, but thankfully for all of us we left Koana & company in charge, they'll do their best.

"Several cutscenes..." again. In for a penny, in for a pound! (cut for length, it uh. it got really long and I didn't want to split it)

Ah, so it's to be another 1v1 with us playing as Wuk Lamat, then. At least with a plan, rather than tossed into it. We need to break Zoraal Ja's regulator, and buy time both for Alisaie + WoL to free our captured Oblivion ally and for the city itself.

I won't lie, I was hoping Zoraal Ja would be the final trial, but if we're dueling here and Lamaty'i's plot armor holds true, then he dies during this.

WOAH! That was... Very close. I saw Wayakkwe's life flash before her eyes on that one. Good save, Lamaty'i...

Alright, if he's being honest with us I'm suddenly VERY glad that I've been wary of her the entire time. If he's lying to throw Wuk Lamat off balance... well, somehow I don't think he is.

Aw, dammit Sphene, why'd you have to confirm it...

Ohshit robot body. I should've seen this coming when she mentioned being able to do the digital illusion thing. Hindsight, I suppose.

Lioness vs Mini Mechagodzilla. Round 1... FIGHT!

Regulator destroyed! Round 2? Aaaaannd the coward went back on his word and ordered the razing... we have to trust that Koana has things well in hand... and beat Zoraal Ja to a pulp.

The side-eye from Kemakka! I love how expressive everyone is in this expansion, it's great! And nice to see the rounds being made, making sure every settlement has a protector or two. Y'shtola, Zekowa and friends, Estinien... Hey! Thancred and Urianger! I wondered where they'd gotten off to. Vacation got interrupted, by the sound of it.

I like the little visits of our allies in times like this. It's a good reminder that we're not the only heroes in the world anymore, and also hey a break from the incredibly tense scene we just exited.

Holy shit they dragged Vrtra into this. That's the air battle sorted, then... And new allies in Radz-at-Han later, to boot.

I swear I'm hearing part of the Endwalker theme playing underneath all the gunfire. I'm sure it's a Dawntrail piece but my tired brain can't tell the difference right now. Wait, nope, "tales of loss" that was definitely Endwalker.

And hey, they forced the fleets back! Idiot subordinate said that aloud in front of the enemy, which I'm sure boosted Wuk Lamat's morale.

What the hell... Cut down his own man for saying something he didn't like? Not quite shooting the messenger, but pretty close. Jeez. And not even Sphene can stop him.

Zoraal Ja you fuck! Hell no! I wasn't sure if trying to strike down Wayakkwe was a war crime, but ordering the mass execution of his own people certainly is.

Gulool Ja should NOT be here. Now Zoraal Ja has a human shield (another war crime), so oh shit he can control Otis we're screwed.

Okay, so no battle. We have to get to the top of Everkeep and fight him there.

...next session. I've got a headache from all that......

[efrmellifer]

II. Heartwood (Bark)

what assistants are for.

“Seeing how you dress for combat, I’m always a little surprised by the practicality of your gathering attire. Look at that—flat boots!”

Etien blushed and avoided Erenville’s amused gaze, instead looking at the toes of those same flat boots. “The combat gear is something of a recognition thing… so I have a very specific silhouette, in case there’s reduced visibility.”

“But heels?”

“They’re magicked to not do the usual damage six-ilm heels would do to my feet and legs, especially jumping around like I do, but you’d be surprised the help the heels do to let me get a better look around, or at least be close to eye-level with my colleagues. But it’s probably not something you’ve had to think about, given--” she looked up finally and gestured at his height with a little laugh, then met his eyes with a grin that was half a hopeful projection of confidence and half already laughing at her own joke to support that confidence. “And what are you doing looking at my legs, anyway?”

“Nothing untoward, I promise,” he replied.

Etien shook her head, smile still pulling at her lips and ears flicking with how she scrunched her face up. She fixed her hatchet and scythe on her back, and pulled out the map. “So where are we headed?”

Erenville tapped the spot on the map, and Etien tipped her head, tracing the path with her eyes. “All right. Making our own ways?”

“Did you want me to ride with you?”

She shrugged. “You’ll fit on the bike, so whatever you want is fine.”

“It hardly seems fair that you’re my assistant and yet you’re the one ferrying me around a place I’ve been working at since long before you first set foot here.”

Etien exhaled hard through her nose. “Isn’t that what assistants are for?”

She held back her Isn’t that what Eorzea’s Errand Girl is for? He didn’t need or deserve her bitterness about something that had nothing to do with him.

Instead, she fished in her pocket as she waved and walked away.

Once she’d gotten up the stairs, she brandished her Garlond Ironworks key to the attendant at the entrance of Labyrinthos, then returned back down the stairs walking the motorbike, coming to a stop where Erenville had waited, then hopping on and starting it. “Come on, then!” She called over the motor with a tilt of her head.

He slotted in behind her, holding on carefully as the motorbike started across the white stone and under the archway, onto dirt paths toward the Hatching Canal.

Having reached the spot they aimed for in the Mornveil Forest, Etien turned off the bike and kicked out the stand. She looked over her shoulder, and Erenville hopped off the seat, shaking himself off.

With a nod between them, they got to work.

It was quiet as they did, no chatter, just the sound of their tools against the trees and the rock, and the occasional hum as Erenville looked over the list and reiterated what was next upon it to Etien.

It was an easy rhythm, and working within it, they were nearing done in short order. Now the chatter picked up again, over the thwack of Etien’s hatchet against trees.

“So Potentilla said to me the other day—Etien?”

She knew better than to take her eyes off the tree when she was swinging a hatchet around. She knew better, and now she was paying the price in a rather peculiar way.

She hadn’t hurt anyone, and for that she was grateful.

But still… she looked back to the blade still lodged in the bark, and removed it with a click of her tongue.

“What in the gods’ name…?” she mumbled, looking into the distance again.

“What is it?” Erenville asked, trying to see what she was looking at, what would have so thoroughly disturbed her that she would be careless, that would break her focus.

There was another Miqo’te in the distance, pickaxe on his back.

Why would that…?

“What are looking at? M’ynstrel? I was surprised they Forum was still recruiting, but he’s a new addition to the Gleaners. He’s a very skilled miner, and very knowledgeable about where the richest ore veins are, from his exploration of Eorzea. He said he was inspired to travel because of the Warrior of… Light...”

Etien’s eyes were glassy, and he wasn’t sure how much of that she’d really processed. But she hadn’t stopped staring, and it was at M’ynstrel.

“That’s my little brother,” Etien said quietly. “This is the first time I’ve seen him in nine or ten years.” The tears in her eyes slipped over her lash line and she wiped at them with the back of her wrist. “I’m… I’m happy for him.” She shook her head and got back to work, gripping her hatchet and really following through on the stroke that had been prematurely stopped last time.

She didn’t look like she wanted to talk about it right now, then. He turned back to the list from the Forum.

She gathered the sample of the tree, setting it in the bag and sighing.

“I know Gleaners work alone,” she said, slipping off her gloves and wiping at her eyes again, “but take care of him, would you? Just… make sure he’s okay from time to time.”

“Well, if you’re my assistant,” Erenville began.

“Right,” Etien replied, sounding a little hesitant. “There is that. But I’m not always here. Just, if you get the chance. You don’t need to be his best friend or anything.”

“If he’s anything like you, I might not mind it.”

She smiled, flattered and kind of enjoying the idea of M’ynstrel and Erenville being friends. “He’d be lucky to have you.”

“Do you intend to talk with him?”

“Yes. Eventually. I’ve missed him.”

He decided not to ask.

She let out a dry bark of a laugh. “It wasn’t his fault. I left for vastly different reasons. But as it turns out, saving the world is kind of an all-consuming task, so I never ended up going back like I might have.”

“Not even to visit?”

“Have you ever?”

Now it was his turn to laugh. “I see your point.”

“And you took such good care of my sheep,” Etien teased.

“All right, all right. But you’ll have to help me in the archives in exchange.”

She nodded, with the start of a smile. “What are assistants for?”

[meowww-ffxiv]

Dawntrail area 4 (96+ quests) -- Blorbos Thoughts

.

If your most respectable fuckbuddy ask you to go collect literal shit so he can hatch a plan to scatter a bandit camp without killing anybody would you do it?

Theodore: *quaking in his well heeled boots*

Meowdred: I'll do it. Manure's not the worst thing I've collected.

Theodore: Halone bless you.

.

The absolute balls Erenville had to take you to talk to his babysitter/auntie good god.

Meowdred: After that, won't you want to at least bend over and gather some shit?

Theodore: Sorry, I am still in the throes of terror about this man taking us to see his mother.

Meowdred: :)? What's wrong with that? I know my dad's friends with benefits. They're all great people.

Theodore: .....So that was why you always had such a casual view about this sort of relationship. Well, unfortunately, I am civ-- Ishgardian and this is terrifying to me.

.

(doing side quests)

NPC: Psst. Can you do a /flex to get this guy to talk?

Meowdred: No problem. THEODORE. STRIP.

Theodore: Usually this is a paid service, but just for the sake of helping those in need... *takes off his sleeves*

.

Chef: We got tuna.

Meowdred: OwO !!!

Chef: It's cactus flesh.

Meowdred: NOOOO.

Theodore: It is sweet and refreshing.

Meowdred: YAAAAY.

[cinnabun-faerie]

Dating Erenville Headcannons

A/N: This one's written for the person who wanted something for Erenville! I hope you enjoy it! I honestly loved writing this!

General FFXIV Masterlist ↳ here

Dating Erenville would include :

Melting

Have you heard his voice?

By the Fury his voice is like a siren, hypnotizing

You can bet that he can softly sing you a soft song he's heard on his travels

He's heard a sea shanty or two

Not to mention all the stories he probably has

You are dating a smart man

Not to mention he's handsome to boot

Seriously why is he so handsome

Are you sure he's not a prince cause he's very charming

He's a soft spoken man who knows what he wants

He will not hesitate to tell you what you truly mean to him

His whole heart is in it for the long run

So don't break him

He sends you letters that are as romantic as Shakespeare

He's quite affectionate but he shows it through simple gestures

soft cheek kisses

sweet and slow kisses

He pulls you onto his lap to hold you close often because he misses you

Dating him, you know that he's not home a lot

He's always on the road doing his job

But you know what? At the end of his journeys, he always comes home to you

He greets you at the door with a nose rub

He works alone for the most part, but on occasion he'll take you along

He just wants to show you all of the places he visits

There's so much you still haven't seen and he's happy to share his world with his you

"You've never been to the New World, have you, Y/N? I want you to experience it together with me. I will make sure your experience is one to be remembered."

If you're ever upset or having a hard time, he will be there by your side in a heartbeat with words of wisdom

He always knows just what needs to be said

And of course, he speaks his mind

So if he feels like something is wrong or off, he isn't afraid to talk about it