#ywain deepwell

[mosthuggableffxiv]

Most Punchable Class Trainer (levels 1-30)

Admittedly calling K'rhid Tia and Silvarre trainers is a bit of a stretch, but I had the space so I thought I'd give y'all the chance to punch them anyway.

[dualcastimpact]

once in a starlit moon 🎄

[gridanian-red-mage]

*Stormblood looms in the distance.*

[paintedscales]

FFXIV Write 2023 :: Day 16

Prompt :: Jerk Characters :: Nomin tal Kheeriin, Jillian, Ywain Deepwell Notes :: Heavy on the Lancer Job dialog Word Count :: 2,256

FFXIV Write 2023 Master List

Nomin had awoken early that morning, having been more than grateful for a warm and soft bed that night at the Roost. After several weeks traveling the road and riding a carriage, not to mention sailing across the Sirensong Sea all the way to Eorzea, that bed was a blessing from Nhaama if Nomin ever wanted to give thanks to the gods of the Steppe.

However, Nomin had stood at the foot of the stairs that led up to the Lancers’ Guild. She took in the appearance of the building, much like she had the Archers’ Guild, and noted its banners. Red and black with a gold embroidered image of a lance upon it. She could make no mistake that this is where she needed to be in order to make good on her word that she would go there.

Entering the building, Nomin glanced about before spotting the receptionist desk and approaching it. Sounds of wood striking wood were heard in the room over, as were the grunts and yells of individuals actively training. There was a hyuran woman there at the counter, a determined smile on her face as she greeted Nomin with a small wave.

“Welcome to the Lancers’ Guild, adventurer,” the woman said. “Haven’t seen you around before, so if you seek to refine your skills with the polearm, then you have come to the right place. Here at the Lancers’ Guild, spear wielders gather to train with one another, and further hone their abilities under the tutelage of our fine instructors.”

The hyuran woman then looked over Nomin, noting the bow and quiver upon her person. She then straightened her posture and inquired: “... you…are here to register with our guild, are you not?”

“Mhm. I told Miounne that I would come here and see about joining,” Nomin informed her. She could swear she saw the receptionist breathe a sigh of relief.

“Wonderful! Then allow me to introduce myself, I am Jillian, and I oversee all matters going in and out of the Lancers’ Guild. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance…” she allowed her sentence to linger, looking at Nomin somewhat expectantly.

“Nomin. Pleasure to meet you as well.”

“No~min…” Jillian repeated, getting a feel for the name. She smiled, giving Nomin a once over before clearing her throat. “Very well! Before we can get you properly situated within our ranks, it is my job to inform you of Gridania’s history with the spear and the art that we teach here.”

Motioning toward her right, Nomin looked at what seemed to be an art piece that looked like a large version of the masks the she saw the Wood Wailers and those dressed in red wore -- but if it were more round and perhaps would have been used to cover the entire face rather than just masking the eyes. There were crossed spears that were mounted upon the walls as well.

“More than just an instrument of war, the spear is also a tool for hunting, and with game ever plentiful in the Twelveswood, the weapon has been the mainstay of the locals here since before the founding of Gridania. With the passing of time, our nation became a gathering place for spearmasters from across the realm -- many eager to test their mettle against the famed might of our Wood Wailers.” Jillian lifted a finger, a smile dancing across her lips. She seemed proud to have this information and share it.

“It was here in Gridania that their myriad fighting styles came into contact, eventually giving rise to the art taught here today. That the spear technique could be formalized at all owed much to the founding of the Lancers’ Guild by Wood Wailer captain Mistalle nigh on a century past.”

Nomin listened with some interest once Jillian had mentioned how people from across the realm had come to the guild to train. She wondered if there were ever any Xaela that had walked past the guild’s doors before herself. She supposed she would find out if she saw any fighting styles that were reminiscent of the Steppe.

“The tradition of accepting students from without as well as within Gridania’s borders persists to this day, ensuring that the art of the polearm may not only survive, but also continue to evolve.” Jillian placed her hands upon her hips, a pleased expression on her face.

“... Can you tell me if you’ve ever had Xaelic individuals like myself pass the guild’s doors in the past?” Nomin inquired, genuine in her curiosity. She had found appreciation in the fact that Jillian, staying true to her lecture, had been rather ambivalent toward Nomin’s appearance. Knowing the Lancers’ Guild accepted people of all kinds was of more comfort than Nomin realized.

Jillian grew pensive, thinking back.

“We have had a couple… That I can remember, anyroad!” Jillian replied. “During my time here, there was a girl I could remember -- said she came from Coerthas up north. Her name was Khenbish, and she was quite well trained already. I shouldn’t be surprised, given the history of the lancers and Knights Dragoon of Ishgard. When I asked her why she wasn’t training with them, she claimed that Ishgard would have rather ran her through with spears than trained her to use them.”

'Khenbish' -- it was a rare name that Nomin knew of. A name that meant 'nobody.' It made her a little more interested in the person behind it. She wondered if it was a name given to the girl, or one chosen. Much like how Nomin chose her own name.

“A…criminal?” Nomin slowly asked.

“Not sure. She never really gave off that impression, and we never had any of our allies among the Temple Knights that patrol near the border of the Western Highlands and the North Shroud ever inquire about her whereabouts. I never really bothered to press her on the specifics of her past,” Jillian explained. “I’m not sure if she’s still around. She hasn’t been back at the guild in several summers at this point. I can only hope that she’s alive somewhere…but we can’t discount the notion that she could very well be returned to the lifestream.”

Shaking her head, Jillian returned her full attention upon Nomin and smiled. “Well, all of that aside, I trust I’ve piqued your interest quite well in regards to what you would be signing up for?”

“I find it reassuring that others like myself have been here…so yes, I would say you have,” Nomin confirmed. “I would like to see what more I could learn, especially if the styles here are blended with one another to make, as mentioned, an evolving style.”

“Excellent! I shall let Guildmaster Ywain know to expect you. All who seek admittance to our ranks must present themselves before him. He will judge if you are fit to become one of us.” Jillian then motioned to the archway to her right. “Pray make your way to the training area within. Our guildmaster shall await you there.”

Nomin did as she was told, stepping foot into the training hall. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and wood polish. She watched the trainees with their training spears practicing their form in staying grounded as well as thrusting to attack. For a moment, she was brought back to her time on the Steppe, training amongst the other Jhungid warriors-in-training. It had been often that she was more taught to use a spear or more hand-to-hand oriented combat, though it was always with the bow that she excelled at.

She had not known how long she was waiting when Jillian came into the room and called to her. When Nomin looked over at Jillian, she had a hyuran man with her, a diagonal scar that ran from just above his right brow down to just barely past where his nose met his cheek on the left. Nomin lifted a hand in quiet greeting, which had been reciprocated from the man.

“Well met, adventurer. I understand you wish to learn the lancers’ art under our roof,” the man said. This must have been Ywain. “I was given to know that you have some combat experience from beyond our lands. Yet it remains to be seen if such skills as you have acquired will avail you here.”

There was want of a knee jerk response, but Nomin bit her tongue.

“It is of no matter. In my capacity as guildmaster, I shall guide your training, beginning with the very basics -- the principles of our art.” Ywain motioned confidently to himself with a small smile. However, Nomin clenched her jaw to prevent herself from gawking in disbelief at the notion of relearning the art of wielding a spear from the beginning.

‘No, it’s understandable. Curb your impatience, Nomin…’ Nomin reminded herself, keeping Esenaij’s counsel rooted within her mind.

“There exist myriad fighting styles, each of which has its own unique qualities. None, however, can claim to be as offensively minded as ours. Our approach is ever one of attack, no matter who -- or what -- we face.”

At this, Nomin found herself starting to pucker her face with incredulity. Ywain’s confident statement seemed that of someone who had never been to the Steppe, where combat was taught to nearly all tribes just because of how violent tribes could be to one another. Self-defense had been a necessary evil for any Xaela that did not want to be set upon by their own people, or worse yet, the Matanga that also lived upon the land.

“An experienced lancer is able to wield a polearm as if it were an extension of their body. They transform into a raging storm before their foes, delivering a barrage of devastating thrusts and slashes,” Ywain went on to explain.

It was here that Nomin’s face relaxed and started bordering on a sense of intrigue. She could not very well think of styles on the Steppe that had them do aught more than powerful thrusts to skewer, or swipes as a means to disarm. The idea that a lance would be used in s quick succession of thrusts had been a mental image that had her thinking on how to balance herself already.

“To facilitate such a relentless assault, we lancers forgo plate, favoring armor of leather and chain -- such materials as provide adequate protection without unduly hindering movement.” Ywain lifted a finger as he went on to further elucidate: “a lancer’s worth may be measured quite simply -- in how swift and decisively they can pierce their enemy’s defenses.”

That made sense. A good thrust to one’s weak point was essential to using a spear from what Nomin remembered in her training on the Steppe.

“By its nature, the polearm is a simple weapon to wield -- for good or ill. Even in a farmer’s hands, it is capable of wreaking considerable havoc. Thus has it been a mainstay of every great army since ancient times.” Ywain paused, looking past Nomin to the lancers within the hall training amongst one another. “Yet know that a lance alone does not a lancer make. Faced with unfavorable odds, an unseasoned spearman will break formation and flee without a moment’s hesitation. A true lancer, however, flinches not before his enemies, for he knows not the meaning of fear. Ever does he press forward, disdainful of the odds, that he might pierce the enemy line and open a path to victory.”

“Would it not be wise to cut one’s losses and flee if they are clearly overwhelmed?” Nomin asked, doing everything within her power to keep her stance as neutral as possible. It was indicative of her tone, however, that there seemed to have been some values that she did not quite see eye-to-eye with. “I don’t mean to undermine your explanations nor station…I simply find myself a little baffled by the idea that I would be expected to run myself ragged if the odds are clearly not in my favor. What would my fearlessness accomplish for myself if I were to stagger in the midst of combat because my headstrong and ‘fearless’ ways to see to this ideal in what may very well be a fool’s errand?”

A ghost of a smile graced Ywain’s lips momentarily. It seemed that it was not often that someone joining the guild had often stepped up to question his meaning nor his authority.

“Fearlessness does not equate to foolhardiness. Having courage and a sense of fearlessness is not to say to run in the thick of combat without your wits about you. I only mean to say that if you run away before you even gauge your enemies’ defenses and openings, perhaps the Lancers’ Guild is not for one of such a caliber.” Ywain looked Nomin up and down, gauging her stature and posture. There was a moment before he continued on with a sense of satisfaction; “having the courage to face your enemies and be level headed enough to make observations of them is important in our field of combat. That is why our guild has striven from the first to instill this essential quality in every soul who passes through our halls.”

Nodding, Nomin felt more resonance with the idea now that it had been expanded upon.

“Without further ado, adventurer… Arduous trials await you should you join our ranks. Knowing this, have you the resolve to wield the lance in the name of the Lancers’ Guild?”

Straightening her posture, Nomin gave a more curt nod. “I do.”

[stormbabylore]

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆────

...so I'll be answering all of these.

Just... not all at once.

Round 1: apple strudel and baklava:

1. apple strudel - who was your muse's first crush? do they still have feelings for that person? ─☆─ Ywain. I've gone on pretty incessantly before about how he initially stood out to her as someone who felt "different," though she didn't then understand how or why. Maybe if the story had allowed her more time to just exist in Gridania before pulling her away, she might have sorted out those budding feelings and grown them into something she understood - but I rather think her discontent over her lost memories, paired with the Echo, would have prevented that. She needed the developmental change and emotional maturation that came from her adventures to figure out how to care about anyone that much. She still has a very nostalgic fondness for Ywain, but time and distance and the growth of her heart as she journeyed through the story have changed her enough that it would now be more of a deep respect and innocent gratitude for someone whose patience and gentle support allowed her the space to become who she was learning to be during those formative early days in her new life. 2. baklava - does your muse believe in true love? soulmates? ─☆─ She very much believes in love and the notion that certain people are just meant to find and influence each other, but not so much in the stereotypical soulmate way - and not until she unlocks some semblance of comprehension regarding what love even means to her. Though she has felt love, Aeryn doesn't really sort out what the sensation even is and the myriad ways it can manifest until very late in Stormblood, at the earliest. Realistically, I think much of Shadowbringers is her coming to terms with and accepting just how much she loves the people in her life and how fiercely strong and gut-wrenchingly weak that can make her feel. And by that point in the story, the importance of and craving for her anonymity is slowly becoming much clearer to her. So in a way, she doesn't quite sort out how she feels about love until she also begins to consider her own mental and emotional independence - her freedom to choose. As such, she absolutely believes in loving, fully and deeply, and she has accepted that she loves in a unique way that bypasses certain typical expressions of affection. But she doesn't necessarily believe in the notion of people being destined to be together. Sure, people might be destined to meet by nature of their souls, who they once were, and who they might grow to be. But ultimately she feels that souls being drawn together can only take you so far, and at some point you must choose who you will and won't trust with your heart. She knows she chose Urianger, somewhere along the path to understanding herself and her heart (and regardless of the fact that fate had thrown many others into her path that she might have connected with because of the complicated entanglement of souls and destiny) - and she is very content in her choice. So the short of it is that yes, she knows and has seen that souls can be drawn to and find one another - and even that such a spiritual connection might influence her heart in very powerful ways. But she ultimately comes to the conclusion that the truest love she feels is defined by her choices more than anything else.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆ love headcanons !

--

apple strudel - who was your muse's first crush? do they still have feelings for that person?

baklava - does your muse believe in true love? soulmates?

cannoli - how does your muse express love? how do they act when in love that differs from how they act around others normally?

chouquette - does your muse believe they deserve to be loved? why or why not?

croissant - what is your muse's ideal date?

eclair - do they want to one day be married?

inipit - what qualities do they seek in a partner? describe physical qualities and personality traits?

lattice pie - what kinds of gifts do they like to give to/receive from their partner?

macaron - what do they do after having a fight with their partner?

makmur - what role does forgiveness play?

mille-feuille - do they believe friends can become lovers? if so, when does love transcend from platonic to romantic? if not, why?

pan dulce - do they have an "i can fix them" complex? or are they one that needs to be fixed? if neither, how do they feel about the idea?

[dante-heller]

But you're a hyur, how are you of Ishgard?

[hyrtwynwrites]

Dramatis Personae - Book 1: Gridanian Prelude

Next

Yenifer Falle

Age: 21 Pronouns: she/her Our protagonist; Yenifer has lived her whole life in the small hamlet of Quarrymill, one of a small community of refugees far from home. When desperation meets hope, she takes the gamble to join Gridania's renowned Lancers' Guild... and unwittingly becomes a part of a cosmic war for the survival of the star. Impulsive, brave, and good-hearted, Yenifer is trying to find a way forward not just for herself, but for her people as well.

Ala Mhigans of Quarrymill

Aebba Falle

Age: 36 (†) Pronouns: she/her Mother to Yenifer, Aebba raised her daughter through the collapse of Ala Mhigo and their dangerous escape to the Twelveswood. Alongside the other refugees, she worked to build a good a life as possible in this new land - and alongside other refugees, she died during the Calamity.

Meffrid Noward

Age: 38 Pronouns: he/him A former member of the Ala Mhigan Resistance, Meffrid has traded his sword for a laborer's tools. The leader of the Ala Mhigans in Quarrymill, he works tirelessly to keep his people alive malms from his homeland.

Scions of the Seventh Dawn

Papalymo Totolymo

Age: 42 Pronouns: he/him One of the foremost members of the Scions, Papalymo has been the liaison between the organization and Gridania for summers. Erude, quick-witted, and perhaps a little mad, the thaumaturge has seen the city-state through many crises... but fears that the next is near on the horizon.

Yda Hext

Age: 31 Pronouns: she/her A hot-blooded pugilist and member of the Scions, Yda hails from conquered Ala Mhigo and now works to protect her new home in Eorzea. Alongside her friend Papalymo, she has defended the people of the Twelveswood from danger. Beneath her mask, however, lies an unspoken secret.

Gridanians

Mother Miounne

Age: 36 Pronouns: she/her The owner of the Carline Canopy, Mother Miounne has run the tavern and inn for summers, despite the devastation wrought by Bahamut.

Beatin Mainrocquet

Age: 30 Pronouns: he/him Timbermaster of the Carpenters' Guild, Beatin is a perfectionist by nature. Constantly coated in the debris of his labors, nothing but the finest of work is allowed to be sold.

Thya Epocan

Age: 18 Pronouns: they/them One of Gridania's many forgotten faces, Thya does their best despite being on the city-state's lowest rung.

Residents of the Twelveswood

Bremondt

Age: 48 Pronouns: he/him An enigmatic figure in the Twelveswood, Bremondt has been running cargo, passengers - and contraband - up and down the Black Shroud for summers. Despite his many days in the forest, he is a surprisingly unsuperstitious man.

Kuplo Kopp

Age: Not telling, kupo! Pronouns: he/him... if he finds it amusing, kupo! One of the Twelveswood's many myths, Kuplo Kopp is perhaps one of the more talkative Moogles - and a friend of sorts to Yda and Papalymo.

Sergeant Galfrid Mossback

Age: 34 Pronouns: he/him A member of Gridania's army, the Twin Adders, Galfrid is tasked as being one of the organization's many liaisons with the Wood Wailers - and, in a pinch, the leader of a manhunt.

Lancers, Guild or Otherwise

Ywain Deepwell

Age: 36 Pronouns: he/him Guildmaster of the Lancers' Guild, Ywain has worked stoically for summers to turn trainees into fighters. As a new crisis darkens Gridania's sky, so to does a nemesis emerge out of the shadows to challenge both him, the guild, and his prize student: Yenifer.

Foulques of the Mist

Age: 34 Pronouns: he/him An enigmatic figure and rogue lancer, Foulques bears an axe to grind against the Lancers' Guild; one that he is perfectly willing to bury into a skull or six if it gets the point across. Obsessed with bravery, in Yenifer he has found a rival - and potential ally - in his mission.

Jillian Little

Age: 20 Pronouns: she/her The receptionist of the Lancers' Guild, Jillian is herself a lancer, though has taken on the hard work of handling the considerable paperwork that shuttles in and out of the Wailing Barracks on a daily basis.

Wood Wailers & Gods'bowmen

Bowlord Lewin Hunte

Age: 54 Pronouns: he/him One of Gridania's elder warriors, Lewin has led the Gods'bow against the Ixal, bandits, and worse for many summers. The Calamity casts a shadow over his heart, and the emergence of a new crisis will only redouble his fear that the city may not withstand another storm.

Sergeant Albert Miller

Age: 38 Pronouns: he/him A member of Gridania's police, the Wood Wailers, Albert is one of the more honest members of the organization - and, due to chance circumstances, becomes a strange friend of Yenifer in her time of need.

Wailer Mordin Sawyer

Age: 18 Pronouns: he/him A young member of the Wood Wailers, Mordin Sawyer was destined for an unexceptional career... but a growing emergency changes his course perilously.

Gods'bow Okhi Lanbatal

Age: 19 Pronouns: she/her One of the elite Gods'bow, Okhi was willing to blend into a sea of faces and uniforms... but war changes many fates.

Padjal and their Keepers

Seedseer Kan-E-Senna

Age: 28 Pronouns: she/her The spiritual leader of Gridania, Kan-E-Senna is the city-state's figurehead and commander of the Twin Adders. As one of the almost mythical Padjal, she is frozen in age - and by fear. Beneath that glass, however, lies a different woman, one who is trapped by the duality of her responsibility and the weight it bears.

E-Sumi-Yan

Age: Around 230 Pronouns: he/him A fellow Padjal, E-Sumi-Yan is the guildmaster of Gridania's illustrious Conjurers' Guild. Despite his incredible age, E-Sumi-Yan remains humble, and marries his wisdom with a wry sense of humor.

Keeper Roger Goodfellow

Age: 26 Pronouns: he/him One of Kan-E-Senna's elite bodyguards, Roger cuts an unusual figure alongside his more traditional companion. Beneath his stern public façade, however, lies a secret that ties his life to the Seedseer's forever.

Keeper Bernon Ouraux

Age: 28 Pronouns: he/him Kan-E-Senna's other hand, Bernon is a child of Gridania and is so proudly. Stern, restrained, and a little arrogant, he would still suffer any indignance on behalf of the woman he has sworn his life to.

[lyrieuxsicons]

Who? // : Ywain Deepwell From? // :Final Fantasy XIV Amount? // : 205 Size? // : 100 x100 px

DOWNLOAD LINK.

If you enjoyed or have used these icons, please consider donating to my KoFi!

[mosthuggableffxiv]

Most Huggable Class Trainer (Levels 1-30)

Featuring a couple of bonus characters corresponding to the punchability bonuses

[joiedecombat]

Of all the classes Raine's taken for all the jobs she has, who was the best teacher and who was the worst? Who was her favourite if neither of those.

Even narrowing it down to just the people whose official job it was to teach Raine things, it's hard to point to a single "best." For the purpose of this answer, I'm going with the ones from whom Raine learned the most valuable lessons, above and beyond the skills they set out to teach her - things she's continued to apply not only to one specific field, but in her many adventures since.

I'm also breaking it down between both the teachers of combat skills, and the ones who taught tradecraft.

With that in mind...

Among the leaders of Eorzea's fieldcraft and tradecraft guilds, H'naanza doesn't stand out as an especially colorful character. She has her shit together and she stays in her lane, focused on training capable armorsmiths and maintaining Naldiq & Vymelli's reputation for quality goods.

Most importantly, H'naanza has no tolerance for needless elitism. She recognizes that skill is learned with persistent effort, not based on inborn natural talent granted only to a select few. Raine learned a lot about professionalism from H'nanzaa, and a few important lessons about not letting perfectionism get in her way.

Speaking of colorful characters, though... Honestly, Severian barely had the inclination to teach Raine all that much about alchemy, so it's a good thing she had at least some basic education in the field before she came to Eorzea.

However, the great project that occupied Severian's attention over teaching happened to come to fruition while Raine was still struggling to cope with the tragedy at the Vault. The timing meant that Raine was forced to confront some home truths about loss and letting go. It wasn't at all a comfortable or pleasant experience, but it helped her come to terms with some things and it taught her a lesson she's carried with her since.

As far as tradecraft goes, Redolent Rose is probably Raine's favorite of her many guildmasters and teachers. Textile work was a chore she didn't particularly enjoy - mostly because as the only girl among her siblings, she was the only one expected to devote time to sewing and needlework while her brothers got to be outside doing more interesting things - and working with Rose helped Raine put aside her childhood grudge and recognize what a vital skill it really is. The two of them share a belief about the importance appearances can play in social interactions, and get along quite well.

No few of her tradecraft guildmasters emphasized the importance of listening to the client and understanding their needs. From Rose and their shared travails with Wawarukka, Raine also learned that sometimes the client doesn't know what they want, and often has no idea at all what they need.

Among the people who've taught her combat skills, Musosai holds a special place. The old man who set Raine on the path of the samurai taught her to take decisive action to confront injustice and stop evil, rather than hold back dithering over whether or not it's her place to step in. He also taught her to be ready to forgive, and to offer second chances when the wrongdoer seems sincere in their remorse and their crimes unlikely to be repeated.

Most importantly, Musosai taught Raine to hold herself accountable to the same standards of justice she applies to those around her, both for her own actions and the wider impact those actions have. And, at the last, he affirmed and reinforced the difficult lessons she had to learn about letting go.

I've talked before about Ywain and Raine's time with the Lancer's Guild in Gridania, but here he is again. Raine has lingering misgivings about how Ywain handled matters with Folques and the way that whole business played out... but the fact remains that the training she received from Ywain and the Guild has informed her fighting and adventuring style ever since, no matter what weapon she has in her hand.

From Ywain, Raine learned the importance of keeping a calm head and maintaining self-control under pressure. She also learned the difference between true courage, which sets aside fear in the face of danger in order to confront it calmly, and empty bravado which seeks to deny that the danger exists.

For the worst teacher that she's had, Raine can only have one possible answer: Solkzagyl. Fuck that guy. If there's anyone Raine would fistfight in a Denny's parking lot, it's him.

She found his treatment of poor Constaint reprehensible, and if he'd been the only example she'd had from which to learn how to be a paladin, she'd have hung up the sword and shield ages ago. If she never sees his face again, it'll be too soon.

As far as an overall favorite teacher, there's likewise no contest: X'rhun Tia remains the mentor Raine feels the closest connection with, and considers a particularly valuable friend. Though they haven't been teacher and student for some time, she's always enjoyed his company and looks forward to seeing him again and hearing what he's been up to since they last spoke.

[stormbabylore]

I have oh-so-very-many thoughts about her receiving language(s). Tl;dr? She starts as Quality Time with a slow, slooooow growth toward also needing Physical Touch.

She's a soft ace baby, and I'm all about slow burns that lead to forehead touches instead of kisses. (´♡ᴗ♡`)

Now if you want to long of it, there is... a significant quantity of character infodump behind the cut.

Aeryn awakens in Eorzea as an adult with no memories beyond a painfully overwhelming sensation of loss. She has no knowledge of her past at all, let alone who might have been a part of it and what types of relationships they may have shared. The myriad feelings she begins experiencing towards others are essentially brand new to her, which is confusing enough as it is - and the sensation of loss she awakens with is both agonizing and discordant (in that she is missing something but doesn't know what that is).

With that in mind:

Both physical touch and emotional closeness with others is entirely foreign to Aeryn in a jarring way, sometimes enough to incite shock or panic. She quickly adopts a practice of holding herself at arm's length (if not further) in efforts to avoid any unexpected discomfort, and for a long time she assumes she doesn't like to be touched.

Words of affirmation are similarly uncomfortable. She neither wants nor feels deserving of the praise she receives. (She only sticks with adventuring because she doesn't know what else to do; and she secretly harbors a hope that her travels might lead her to someone who knows who she really is.) The attention for her supposed heroism feels like a slap when, in her mind, she has a very selfish motivation for her actions. Worse, the blatant praise often seems to require some form of response, which she struggles to offer with her quiet, apprehensive voice. Words of affirmation, however sincerely offered, just make her want to run away.

Acts of service make her feel she's been an imposition to others, regardless of their good intentions. She is always exceptionally grateful, but there is an underlying guilt associated with accepting such kindnesses. She reasons that if she'd been quicker, smarter, or better at her work, no one would need to exert themselves on her behalf.

Receiving gifts likewise causes her more guilt than anything. She worries that others feel they owe her and even pay beyond their means. When they offer thoughtful, handmade or expensive gifts, she laments that they'll inevitably get ruined or lost on her journeys. (That said, there are some few exceptions! She always appreciates receiving food, and she also has a few small possessions she treasures, which I might touch on in another post!)

The one love language that immediately speaks to her heart is quality time, which (especially in early ARR, when she's a blank slate) serves as proof of others' acceptance of her, regardless of her reticence. She grows quickly attached to those who recognize her reserve and avoid offering needless excess attention. Ywain is the first to provide just that: nothing but his quiet, unassuming company. What little conversation they share and gentle attention he offers is the first sense of true comfort she feels in Gridania outside Mother Miounne's watchful gaze. He does, eventually, come to offer words of affirmation, but his praise is practical and less showy in its manner. He praises her only when they're alone and with no expectation of reply - and he does not dwell on the subject. In that way, the quality time they spend together helps crack her shell and enables her to interact with him in a healthier, more balanced way that is still unique to her needs. It singles Ywain out as someone special in her mind, which is highly perplexing for her.

After officially meeting the Scions, she discovers a similar level of comfort (and confusion) with Urianger. His constancy in the common room of the Waking Sands (where she spends the majority of her free time when in Vesper Bay) is as calming to her as sitting on the boat dock with Ywain. He doesn't force small talk and respects her quiet nature; but he likewise does not ignore her presence. He acknowledges her with quiet nods and sometimes reads to her or speaks of his studies, as if they are conversing, though there is no evident expectation of reply. It's humorous, to her, that he is so verbose while she is so taciturn, and she looks forward to the ease she feels when he's near and the peaceful sound of turning pages meshed with the cadence of his voice. She takes to visiting him more and more frequently, both in the common room and up on the roof while he stargazes - and she finds comfort in his nearness. Like Ywain, Urianger's praise of her, when offered, comes privately, in small, quiet, bearable doses without any expectation of reply.

There are others, of course, whose quality time helps grow her later in her story, but Ywain and Urianger are two of the first, and certainly the two who best see and respect her preferences without her ever needing to voice them.

As Aeryn eventually begins overcoming the apprehension of letting others close, she will slowly become more tactile in her affection. The gradual need for physical touch manifests itself very innocently, at first only reaching out to touch Urianger's sleeve, or perhaps standing in closer proximity to Minfilia so she can better hear or even share her own quiet, stumbling words. Expressing her want for closeness comes even more gradually and with a great deal of awkward hesitation; and her needs will never grow beyond some few simple gestures of nearness.

As I read him (which may not necessarily mesh with the rest of the XIV fandom, based on what I've seen on Tumblr), Urianger is a near-perfect companion for her as a result of his own natural reserve and minimal desire for physical closeness. But over the natural events of the story, the two of them are able to grow with a kind of shared synchronicity to a place of more comfortable expression with both themselves and each other.

Or, to expand from above: they're soft ace babies together, and I'm so very weak to my WoLship about their sweet forehead touches.

Anyway, I might explore Aeryn's giving languages, someday, but this is already a lot.

What is your WoL's love language?

[gridanian-red-mage]

Guess who's back? Back again? And making it everyone's problem. >:3

[velnica]

Singing Along Ch 6 - I wish I may, I wish I might

Fandom: FFXIV

Ship: Sanson/Guydelot

Tags: Modern AU/University, Falling in Love, Meet Cute

Rating: Explicit (later chapters)

Inviting Guydelot over for Starlight had been done on a whim, and Sanson could never have anticipated the ease in which his roommate slipped into his life. His family, of course, was not helping matters in the slightest.

“Would you like me to come with you to the aged care?” Guydelot asked as he returned to the living room.

Sanson’s first reaction was to say no; the part of him that desperately wanted to flee rearing its head once more. But the other, more rational part of his head butted in just in time, reminding him that he did invite Guydelot here in the first place, and he shouldn’t push the man away just because his head—and heart—was a tangled mess. He tried to keep his voice neutral.

“Sure, unless mum needs help setting up the dodo?”

She checked her watch. “I was going to wait until your uncle comes; he shouldn’t be too far away now. But, if you’d like to offer, I wouldn’t say no either.”

The Elezen held his chin like he was thinking, though his grin confirmed it was all an act. “Tough choice, beautiful lady or her equally cute son?” Yvaine giggled while Sanson rolled his eyes, a tell-tale pink tinge colouring his cheeks. “Forgive me, my lady, but alas another important task calls and pulls me away from your beautiful visage,” Guydelot claimed exaggeratedly as he bowed to the woman. Sanson sighed. Beholden to his whims indeed.

Perhaps he was already part of those whims.

[loveofskulls]

"The Black Shroud—the ancient forest close to the heart of Eorzea. Beneath the boughs of its towering trees lies the woodland city-state of Gridania. Once a sanctuary from the world beyond the Hedge, even the mighty elementals, eternal guardians of the forest, could not forestall the coming of the Seventh Umbral Era. However, the goddess Nophica was never one to forsake Her children, and today She welcomes another brave soul..." - Text provided to players beginning their journey in Gridania

Way of the Archer - The Quiver's Hold - Luciane, Leih, Silvairre

Way of the Conjurer - Stillglade Fern - Sylphie, E-Sumi-Yan

Way of the Lancer - The Wailing Barracks - Ywain, Foulques

The Twelveswood is where I started my journey and it is a fine place for any Warrior of Light to learn a new trick or two!

[dante-heller]

Coming right after the Rouge's guild, this storyline seemed kinda meh.