#mother miounne

[magitekconveyor]

I made this last year for Mother's Day so I'm bringing it here

[mosthuggableffxiv]

Holiday Poll: Most Huggable FFXIV Mom

Characters are listed roughly in the order they're encountered in-game. I realize a couple of them technically aren't mothers, but I felt they were close enough.

[zylphiacrowley]

Mother Knows Best

<previous - next (cw: death)>

[weenwem]

Mother Miounne

🔹ffxiv fanart🔹

[mimble-sparklepudding]

Lalapril 2024.

Arrival.

Well, well, what have we here? A wide-eyed and wondering young adventurer, come to put your name down at the guild, I assume?

[osmionug]

milf miounne sketch before i started rendering her portrait (its in wip phase)

[hopskipandarump]

SHES BROKEN CONTAINMENT

[yzeltia]

FFXIVwrite2024 24. Bar

Featuring: @driftward Zoissette Vauban & Nyx Blackmoon @erickgage 's Ryssthota Sundstyrwyn, @autumnslance 's C'oretta Khell and Aeryn Striker, @eorziapple 's Apple Silverberg Characters: Mother Miounne, Jannie Eyradoux Fortemps, Haurchefant Fortemps, Lamberteint, F'lhaminn Qesh, U'rahn Nuhn, Violet Fisher, Natsu Obinata, Drowning Thunder, Y'shtola Rhul, Thancred Waters, Chef Moogle, Apple Silverberg Expansion: Heavenward(Context) Dawntrail(Timeframe) Rating: T Summary: The Warriors of Light and their respective haunts. Notes: Thanks to my FC friends for letting me borrow them!

-Carline Canopy - Gridania-

“Let me see him!”

Miounne held out her arms for little Haurchefant as Jannie handed him over. She smiled as she drew him in, letting the boy coo and kick in her arms as she wiggled her finger toward his nose and gave it the smallest of pokes. “He’s so handsome and already a little kicker. An aspiring Dragoon no doubt. Lancer at the very least I’m sure.”

“Rather unlikely if his grandfather has anything to say about it. The manor is baby-proofed so much that I doubt the boy would not see so much as a butter knife until he was adventuring age if I did not take him out,” Jannie sighed, sliding over a loaf of walnut bread and slicing for the two of them.

“That will come before you know it and you’ll be wishing Lord Edmont had his way,” Miounne laughed, making the boy laugh too as he reached out for her. “I do hope when that day comes you’ll send him to me to start his journey.”

“How are you so certain that he will not find himself among the Temple Knights? He would be a legacy after all?” Jannie asked, a small smile on her face as she spread honey butter along the bread.

“Well, he’s your son,” Minounne said, giving Haurchefant little bounces in her arms. 

Jannie blinked, scraping the knife along the toast. “I think that would resign him to seeking a much quieter life than he’s been born into. The Fury knows how long it took me to get settled down…somewhat.”

“Settled down? As soon as you’re given a task you’re wholly dedicated to it. I sent you to help out a few people around the city and the next thing I know you’re crashing a castrum and taking down The Blackwolf. As much as you protest, you cannot resist the call to help. I can’t imagine anyone you raise growing up without a heart just as big as you. Especially given his namesake,” Miounne mused, stroking her hand through Haurchefant’s budding hair.

“Oh dear, I suppose you do have a point. Still, who knows what the future will hold for him. Only the Fury knows,” Jannie mused, breaking off a little piece of bread for Haurchefant to hold and chew at with his budding teeth. Delighted, the boy gave hero’s smile at his mother and her friend and cooed about.

-The Rising Stones - Mor Dona- 

Lamberteint thought it strange, though he’d never been brave enough to ask why he did it. Every year U’rahn Nuhn would come in, order two drinks, a hard cider and peach and lavender cocktail with whipped cream on top. And then he’d sit at a table with his drinks, pushing the cocktail to the opposite side and talk to the empty seat.

His ears would perk up as get hot and excited. His tail lowered when his voice got soft and sad. Lamberteint occasionally caught bits of the one sided conversation, U’rahn recounting his latest adventure to it or bragging about something his daughter had gotten up to. It was a one man show confined to a table, with no audience except those who cared to eavesdrop like himself. Not even the strange person who he’d seen often accompany or shadow him on many of his other visits seemed to come around for the strange show.

Lamberteint tilted his head, watching U’rahn rub his face with a napkin, clearing it of what he assumed was tears from overwhelming himself before he reached out and downed his missing companion’s drink and made his leave. Curiosity getting the better of him, he wandered over to F'lhaminn’s counter and leaned over it, watching U’rahn exit downstairs. “What is that all about?”

F'lhaminn looked up and gave Lamberteint a small smile. “It would have been the Antecedent’s name day today. That’s just his way of celebrating it with her.”

“The Antecedent…” Lamberteint trailied. “But she passed on.”

“There’s no one way to process one’s grief. Minfilia was likened to a big sister to him, or so he says. He comes and orders the drink he’d had me help him craft for her name day and tells her what’s happening with his life, and the people she cared about. It’s just a means to heal the heart and make him feel connected to her,” F'lhaminn explained before lowering her head. “It is a shame. We spent all that time fashioning the drink for her and I do not believe she had a chance to try it.”

“I see,”  Lambereint said, frowning a little. “Does that not bother you?”

“Not at all. I love that she lives in his heart. It keeps just a little bit of her for us,” she hummed, starting to mix a drink together. After a moment, she slid the pink and violet drink over to Lamerteint. “Here. Try it. I think it would have suited her tastes quite well.”

– The Final Pillar - Gage Acquisitions Headquarters - Lavender Beds 6-6 -

Violet tossed her hair, tying it back into a neat ribbon before starting on polishing the marble counters then moving on toward the spigots, humming a little shanty to herself as she busied herself with opening the bar. A bell rang and she poked her head up, Natsu wandering in with Drowning Thunder close behind. She turned and pulled down her best vodka and filled two chilled martini glasses halfway before adding in apple juice to both. After adding a Doman apple wedge to each rim, offered them to the couple in time for Zoissette and Y'shtola to enter. 

Putting a kettle on was easy to remember; however, not trusting herself she slid a small navy hook out from under the register, touching the golden L.O. etched into the cover before flipping it to tab V.

Z.V. will drink tea on hand; however, if accompanied by Ys.R.: chamomile and lavender. If Zel has made any meat pies, serve a slice with an additional glass of water. 

Violet dropped to a squat, reading through the fine labels of tea tins before finding the correct blend. Throwing it into a diffuser, she careful plucked it into the whimpering kettle then checked the back, greetted by a moogle in a chef hat. “Ishgardian Meat pie,” she ordered, getting a panicked kupo in response.

Returning to the front, she brought Zoissette and Y'shtola the warm kettle and two faucets with cups before looking up as Ryssthota entered and headed to the bar. As she rounded back around she consulted the little blue book under R.S.

R.S. enjoys a whiskey sour. If Co.K is present, leave cherries on the side. If there has been a recent incident in the lab, make it a double.

Violet shuddered then pulled out a bottle of bourbon and lemon juice adding it to her shaker before cracking an egg into her hand, whining audibly as the slimy yolk shifted in her palm as the white drooled through her fingers before dropping the yolk into a ramekin. She immediately washed her hands free of the yolk then went to shaking before pouring the drink into a glass along with bitters. As she finished, C’oretta popped up on a stool beside her beaming at her before starting a conversation with Rysthota. As instructed, she laid out the bowl of cherries in front of C’oretta before making her a quick rum bucket filled with fresh fruits and juices remembering L.O.’s Enjoys a variety of fruity drinks. Rum buckets with juices available for unique experience every time. Leave fruit available for snacks.

Turning around, she found Nyx behind her, staring intently at her before Rahn came stumbling into the bar. Sighing, she filled a glass of cider ale for Rahn then looked around and handed the yolk ramekin to Nyx for them to drink knowing well most anything would be ingested by them. N.B. will drink anything. Literally anything. A good way to avoid waste. Will ask if they want something else.

Spotting Aeryn and Thancred entering, she returned to the back end finding her little chef finishing up the meat pie. She cut out three slices and plated them before grabbing one of the finer bottles of spiced wine. Wandering out, she picked up two wine glasses then delivered Zoissette her slice of pie before serving the other two to Thancred and Aeryn along with the bottle. T.W. Likes to show off. Bring him something that looks expensive. A.S. Will mostly enjoy whatever is being served that day. The room full, Violet sighed then returned behind the counter to pour herself a tall stout, downing it before looking up as Apple wandered in. She waved her over then pulled out another glass then wetted the rim, dipping it into a box of brown sugar. She excitedly told her about Riol’s latest mishap while mixing the rum, orange liquor, lemon juice, simple syrup, and chickpea water together before sliding the drink over on a napkin. A.S. Bestie. Cable Car, sweet rimmed sugar. Orange liquor and Limsan rum. Egg white. Chickpea water.

[eemamminy-art]

fun fact: mother miounne in 1.0 was a cool goth gf 👀

[dawntrailing]

"You've earned this honor with tireless hard work, and anyone who says you don't deserve it had better not do so in my hearing! I find myself praising you often of late, but Mother is truly proud of you. Short of a Warrior of Light, I can imagine no better adventurer to represent us—and that is some compliment! But I've flattered you enough for one day. And I don't want your head to get too big, or you'll struggle to lug it around the realm."

[ariaofsasha]

Loves, Old and New

[fourteentheart]

Oops all elezen! Some NPCs requested by the people (I got a lot of Elezen so I figured they could have their own batch. Next will be hyur - based off the other NPCs people requested lol)

Yeah Edmont was my favorite to draw - I just like drawing older faces a lot!

[mosthuggableffxiv]

Round 1A: Dulia-Chai vs Mother Miounne

"Look how hard she squishes her boy! She is a hugger, and deserves a squeeze of her own."

"...I mean she probably doesn't NEED a hug but she looks like she gives INCREDIBLE hugs."

[starswornoaths]

FFXIVWrite 2023 Prompt#1: Emissary

heelies in late with Starbucks with a oneshot laying out the groundwork for a childhood sweethearts-to-strangers-to-lovers pipeline between my WoL and Miounne, leaves without elaborating.

No spoilers for MSQ, just playing with the idea of anyone with the Echo that awoke during the Calamity being forgotten by everyone that Hydaelyn decided they would be Plot Relevant Later:tm: just like what happened with 1.0 WoL :')

word count: 1,128

When Serella had put Gridania behind her, she had thought she had made peace with it. Left it behind with all the other dead things it had inside it. Left it with the home it had taken from her. A pragmatic part of her had accepted that she would return in some capacity, even if in passing through. 

She just thought she would be more ready for it. That she would feel like more than the girl that fled the Carline Canopy shivering into the rain after rising from the ashes of Calamity. Like more than the barely-grown thing wrapped in an adult’s rite of passage that stepped too confidently onto a carriage to the outside world. Like more than the instinct that made her run.

All that running, and here she was: Serella Arcbane, stood beneath the awning of the Carline Canopy, drying from the rain again.

But her cloak was about her shoulders this time, at least. No shivering this time. Small mercies.

Knowing that Miounne was behind the counter—was always behind the counter—did not making seeing her any easier. Did not make her feel less small and lost. 

From her spot at the entryway she watched, off to the side and unobtrusive to the flow of patrons and adventurers. Miounne was the eye of a storm and as much in her element as she had always been, a warm smile and a spot of radiance in the chaos of the room. 

I’m an emissary come from Ul’Dah, she practiced for the thousandth time since she boarded the airship to Gridania. I have a message for the Elder Seedseer from the Sultana herself.

Making herself taller than she felt, Serella drew herself up to her full height and stepped inside.

Just beyond the threshold, the air became immediately heavier with the warmth of a roaring hearth and the scent of the pastries baking within it. She knew without looking that the source of that rich, sweet scent was a batch or two of Miounne’s special butter biscuits. 

She swallowed around the rapid tightening in her throat and only stepped into line for the counter when she was somewhat confident that she could properly work her jaw. It still conspired to strangle her every word by the time the person in front of her concluded their business with the guild. 

“My, my! A new face to the Carline Canopy!” Miounne said before she had even reached the counter. “I thought I saw you hovering by the door—” 

In spite of herself, Serella smiled and thought, of course you did with an old and dust-covered fondness. Miounne was never one to miss when a wayward soul hesitated in the threshold. don’t be shy! Come, come, let’s get you registered—”

Serella had never been a new face to the Canopy—could not be—

When she finds her voice it’s a rusty thing, and it scrapes her throat on the way out as she croaks, “Oh, I’ve been here before.”

“Have you?” Miounne startles, a well-worn leather tome balanced in her hand. “I’ve never forgotten a single face that’s made it to Carline Canopy, surely—”

“Serella Arcbane. I came here—” 

I was always here. My name is carved on one of the spools of the waterwheel outside, right next to yours. We put it on the underside so it was no one’s secret but ours.

In the gap of the sentence, Miounne had cast a simple incantation and watched the pages flutter to an earlier entry in the book, her name writ neatly in Miounne’s own hand. “—Goodness, but it has been a while since you’ve been here!” she gasped when she saw the date. “That was, goodness that was mere days after the Calamity! There were so many to tend to in those days—”

“A lot was happening back then.” Serella rasped. “It’s fine.”

“Yes…” Miounne said, soft and distant, her eyes drifting for a moment in search of a thing she couldn’t name. 

The moment was over before it had a chance to settle, Miounne deliberately brightening as she said, “Please, let me reintroduce myself, then: I am Mother Miounne, proprietess of the Carline Canopy! And it is an honor and a privilege to work with you!”

With a flourish, the book was tucked away under the counter and she returned the whole of her focus to the person in front of her. She held out her hand to shake, the picture of warmth and geniality. 

Same as Miounne always was. The sunshine in the eye of a storm.

In the instant that their hands touched, Serella felt herself in patchwork, the stitches coming undone and leaving her in the fraying pieces of herself. Every little quilt of memory with Miounne’s hand in hers fell into a messy little pile in her mind.  

She was five summers old, with a wicker basket of blackberries sat between them, sticky hands and purple-tinted smiles with Miounne as they watched the sunset from the top of the treeline, the berries and the climb their little secrets. 

She was nine summers old, and she can’t make her voice work around the stitches on her neck and face. Still, she keeps trying to sign an apology to Miounne for upsetting her so. It’s hard to sign when her hands are held so, so tightly.

She was ten and seven summers old, and she feels the tremor in Miounne through their laced fingers long before it’s felt through the timid kiss they share. It’s not the first time they’ve done it, but it was the first time it felt like both a promise and a choice.

She was twenty and one summers old, and Miounne tells her, “No matter what happens, what you face out there…you can come to me. You know that, right?” It feels like the truth. She accepts the offer with tangled fingers and kisses pressed to pristine knuckles. Together, they become the promise and the choice. 

She was twenty and five summers old, and when she stumbles out of the tree canopy and into Carline she does so yelling her beloved’s name around a soot-choked sob. As Miounne bandages her burned hands and asks for her name, only to be confused to find it already there, she understands that she lost more than a few days when Dalamud fell.

She was thirty summers when she shook Miounne’s hand as a stranger and nearly forgot her rehearsed line and why she was back here to even begin with until she reluctantly took her hand back.

“I’m an emissary come from Ul’Dah. I have a message for the Elder Seedseer from the Sultana herself.” she recited aloud, an announcement and reminder both.

She is a stranger here. She can never go home again.

[berryzawati]

Through curious eyes part 1 - (Mother Miounne)

As the days pass in Gridania, Miounne sees her fair share of eager and wide-eyed adventurers, ready to throw themselves to the next mission on their quest for success. Yet, most brave people, she has encountered in her leading position at the adventurer's guild in Gridania do not leave such an everlasting impression the way a Hyuran woman did.

A foreign accent in her speech, a polite smile and a graceful bow catches Miounne's careful eye. What a strange woman. Too courteous, too… well-mannered, compared to the visitors who wish to join the adventurer's guild.

She was quite a bit older than most young adventurer Miounne has met on her job. Why become an adventurer just now? Despite her musings, it would be far from Miounne to pry.

Soon, Layla establishes herself as a force that would help Gridania defeat most foes that would plague the land. Soon she would join the archer's and lancer's guild as well and many members comment on her ability to quickly learn how to wield new weapons. And there she goes. Continuing to work. Ever a smile on her face, rarely a complaint on her lips. And then…

In that moment Miounne realizes that Layla's body is perfectly made to maim anyone who stands in her way given her effortless exploits, yet her heart lies in stark contrasts. Yearns for peace and solitude. Mioune knows that she has witnessed Layla's first steps as a fighter. Who knows how she has lived her life, prior to coming to Gridania. Alas, it is too late now to think of the past now…

And then...

Through curious yes - Mother Miounne

[kalina-moonbride]

Beginning City

For @voidsentprinces' Countdown to Dawntrail prompts!

Context: The very first ARR quest. Spoilers: …no? Warnings: Fantasy racism, some strong language.

Gridania. Just as prickly and intolerant as I'd been warned about. Fantastic.

Kalina had dared some optimism, on the ride in. Her fellow passengers the weathered merchant and the strange floating marshmallow creature (that claimed to be invisible, no less) had proven more exuberant than xenophobic. But that cheerful welcome had not extended beyond the gates. The locals had subjected her to narrow-eyed stares, hands on weapon hilts, and now a demand that she submit to some sort of bureaucratic rigmarole to “prove” her spear would draw blood only from Gridania's enemies. Had none of her distant kin emigrated to Gridania after the destruction of Bozja, such that no one here had ever before seen a Hrothgar?

Then again, perhaps Hroth had come before, been received the same, then said “fuck no” and left to preserve their pride.

This Mother Miounne, at least, whatever her role in maintaining the rolls of suspicious visitors deserving surveillance, seemed more interested in talking Kalina's ear off about local history than interrogating her for any association with “beast tribes.” (The hells was that about, besides? What beasts went wandering the countryside commissioning wagon rides and petitioning for entry to woodland cities?) Until the time came to pen her name in that ominous ledger, anyroad.

“All that's left, then, is to conclude the business of registration. Here's a quill. Scrawl your name right there. Oh, and I would appreciate it if you used your real name─there is a special place in the seventh hell for those who use 'amusing' aliases.”

The quill was too small, and so were the spaces provided for names. Kalina gripped the pen between her claws as best she could manage, bent far over, and tried not to scowl lest she make another Elezen gasp with a show of teeth. Kalina she got down, then hesitated a moment before proceeding. With just a little bit of spite directed at this Mother Miounne's distaste for pseudonyms, and a little bit more at the family Kalina had left behind, she varied the queen's-name. Jovasch. Jova was as good as dead to her, so it wasn't that far from the truth, really. How would she know if the witch still lived, anyroad? It could well be true in fact. She laid down the quill and stood straight, giving Miounne a faintly challenging gaze.

“Kalina Jovasch.” Miounne put a hand to her chin. “It doesn't quite sound like an amusing alias.” She looked up from the book and met Kalina's eyes. “But while I've not seen many Hrothgar in person, I do know my Encyclopedia Eorzea. You don't look like one of the Lost.”

Oh, for fuck's sake. “Not all who wander are Lost; not all the Lost have blue fur. Ma'am.”

That elicited a tiny shrug. “Very well. From this moment forward, you are a registered adventurer of Gridania, nation blessed of the elementals and the bounty of the Twelveswood. The guild expects great things from you.”

She let herself feel relief for a moment. But would Gridania deign to support her in living up to their expectations? That remained to be seen.