#wh carbuncle

[deadmensproduction]

Reverse the Madness chapter 2

Prolog 1.1

When Vertin Comes to, they realize several things. One, their surroundings are dark. Two she is in some kind of box. Three, there is a voice coming from right outside of the box. We go through the usual scene of grim light, the coffin/Gat on fire and is surprised when Vertin is Awake, and quickly demands that Vertin hand over this robe. Vertin is confused as they had never seen a talking Carbuncle before, which Grim takes offense to.

With quick thinking and a quick spell* Vertin is able to make a getaway, and runs through a series of unfamiliar hallways. It wasn't long before they managed to arrive at a semi-safe place, specifically a library. It's at this point Vertin stops running. Thankfully she had her suitcase on hand, Vertin at this point sets it down, and opens it to check on the condition of those inside. Upon unlocking and opening the lid Mr.APPLe Flies out slightly dazed from having been jumbled while in the case, followed behind by Sonetto. Both were slightly dazed from the shalking, and quickly managed to collect themselves, and asked what the situation was.

At this point Grim shows up and demands Vertin hand over their clothing. APPLe and Sonetto are both surprised to see a talking critter, which they voice and offend Grim. Before a fight can break out they end up interrupted as a leather whip quickly emerges from the dark, and snares Grim.

The Group are Surprised as a tall figure emerges from the shadows, proclaiming that he had found their wayward student, but stops upon seeing the Trio.

“Wh-what? There should be on missing Student, and you young miss how did you get in, No Never mind please follow me back to the Mirror Chamber,” the man instructs.

Vertin and Sonetto are confused, but decide to follow, as they have no leads, and the man manages to handle the critter called Grim for them. The man walks and is exclaiming how he had never seen such an eager student to break down the Gate, at which point Vertin infers that he was talking about the Coffin in which he had emerged from. Sonetto pales slightly at this information as she couldn't imagine what it must have been like to suddenly have woken up in a cramped space, only to find out it had been a coffin.

While they are walking back to the Mirror Chamber, Vertin asks who the man is, and where they were. The man asks if Vertin was still disoriented by the teleportation onto the campus. The Man introduced himself as Headmaster Crowley, and that they were currently at Night Raven College, one of the most prestigious school for budding young mages. This surprised the Trio as they had never heard of a school for arcanis outside of the school of discipline set up by St. Pavlov Foundation.

At this point APPLe comments on how he had never heard of a school like Night Raven College, or of any school designed for Arcanist. Crowly stops and turns to face the floating Fruit, not having realized that he had been following them, or that he was even alive to begin with.

“You are… alive and able to speak? Are you the familiar* of one of the two youngsters, or a product of their Unique Magic?” the Crowman asked. The Trio didn't respond not sure what a Unique magic was, nor having heard of anyone refer to Mr.APPLe as a familiar before.

Neither agent were able to voice their confusion as they had arrived back at a n ornate set of double doors.

The Group could hear voices coming from inside, and some commenting about how Crowley had gotten a stomach ache. At that point the Crow man, whether to maintain some dignity, or simply to be dramatic, pushed open the door loudly proclaiming he had not.

Everyone turns to the door where the group entered from, and murmurs quickly begin to run rampant as they note Sonetto with them. Vertin and Sonetto are confused as they pick up small comments, and about why a girl was here, if they were both students, and why Sonetto was out of uniform.

With a wave of his hand Crowley quickly silences the chatter as he then instructs Vertin to stand before the Dark mirror. Upon stepping up to the Dark mirror, a mask appears illuminated by green fire within the surface of the looking glass.

Sonetto pulls out her wand prepared to let fly a spell but stills her hand as the mask begins to speak asking for Timekeeper’s name.

Vertin states their name, and the mirror pauses for a moment before it begins to speak.

“A soul that Stand before the Storm, yet sings in harmony with Nature. How Strange the power lies deep within, yet to fully flower.they Are suited for all Dorms, and yet none at all.”

This causes the Hall to break out into more commotion as they hear this. Crowley attempts to get everyone to quiet down once more, stating that such a thing had never happened, and how in all the time the Dark Carriage had never brought someone not able to be sorted into the school. 

At this point Grim manages to break free from Crowley’s “Lash of Love,” and claims that if Vertin couldn't be sorted, he'd take their spot. To show his ability, Grim then began to let loose a series of fireballs, and began to set the room on fire, causing many people to panic.

Vertin managed to dodge out of the way of the sudden conflagration, and Sonetto managed to pull APPLe, and Crowley to the ground avoiding several more flame blasts that came their way.

It was pandemonium as people began panicking, on Student proclaiming how he had caught fire, and was panicking. The fire quickly spread and students were panicking trying to get away from both the flames, and the fire spitting Critter. Amongst the panic, several figures and one floating tablet where being calm, and talking amongst each other, as they debated on who had to deal with the Critter, whine finally one Azul, and Riddle decided to manage the situation.

Both took off to chase down Grim and stop the constant flame. Meanwhile Sonetto, APPLe, and Crowley stood back up taking in the scene and began to try to maintain order. APPLE also began to assist attempting to guise many students who were confused about the floating, talking apple. Sonetto moved to help the kid who had caught fire, and was able to quickly put out the fire on his robe.

Vertin meanwhile quickly analyzed the issue, and went to their case, and opened it, and as if knowing what was going on out popped a new person. In a spectacular display of flame Ulu emerged from the chase shining brightly as she was quickly wrapped in her own flame. Everyone watched in amazement as this newcomer quickly began to hand the blue flames, absorbing them, and dispersing the inferno before it could spread even further. Grim was taken aback by how easily someone was able to handle his flame, and seemed even more powerful with fire magic than him.

It was in that moment of distraction that Sonetto and Riddle both took a shot to stop Grim before he could cause more damage.

“Off With Your Head!”

“ Sempre caro mi fu quest'ermo colle!”

With Sonetto’s Spell, Grim was quickly incapacitated preventing him from casting more offensive magic, and with Riddle’s A heart shaped collar with a checkered pattern snapped around  his neck, selling his magic until it would be removed. Azul upon seeing both Spells couldn't help but make comments about wanting them, but quickly covers himself saying he wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of them. Vertin and Sonetto both made notes to be careful around the lavender haired man.

At this point Crowley steps back in and quickly exclaims for Vertin to keep an eye on his Familiar, holding grim by the Collar that Riddle had put on him, and to explain who the Girl(Ulu) was and why she had emerged from her Suitcase.

Vertin comly refutes that Grim was his familiar, stating she had never seen them before today. As for ULu Vertin explains she was part of his team, and at that point  APPLe, Sonetto, and Ulu go back to stand by Vertin, who explains who they are, and that they may have ended up at Night Rave College by mistake. Now knowing that Grim was not connected to any of the individual members had him taken out and released outside school grounds. Lillia who was coming in to check and see if Mallous had been invited and saw the instance of Ulu emerging and helping put out the flame, impressed and curious unfolding, the elder fay decided to watch and observe, noting the strange magic the newcomers were emanating.

Crowley sensing things had become significantly more complicated, instructed that the Housewardens take the student back to their dorms at which he notes the missing Housewarden of Diasomnia, and comments on whether he had been notified of the sorting ceremony. Many mummers come from people in surprise, and slight fear of one of the five most powerful mages actually attending the College.

The Housewardens all give excuses, and eventually Lilia makes his way over simply stating that Malleolus never received his invitation.

Without much more hullabaloo the students are walked out through various Mirrors to their dorm rooms. After they all are cleared Crowley decides that it was best to have Vertin and his group go back to where they came, and everyone agrees as it would be the easiest thing to resolve the situation. Crowley watches as Vertin opens her case once more, and to his surprise sees Sonetto,  and Ulu transformed into animals, before leaping into the open case, followed by APPLe, who was already small enough to fit inside.

Once they enter and Vertin reselas the case, Crowley instructs them to stand inside the Gate, and imagine where they wish to return to. Vertin does as instructed, and Crowley chants to the Dark Mirror to return them to where they came from, only for it to fail. And the mirror explains that the place they belong to is nowhere in the world.

Once more Crowley cries out of the impossibility, but quickly calms down, and states how so many impossibilities had been happening. At that point Crowley decided to attempt to see what was going and decided to get the facts from Vertin.

Vertin explained once more that they From the St. Pavlov Foundation a group that bot researched a strange Phenomena known as the Storm, and attempting to bridge the gap between Arcanist and Humans, which confused Crowley as he had never heard of St. Pavlov Foundation, or any strange Storm. Crowley also noted the strange term used to describe mages that Vertin used.

At that point Crowley decided that it would be best to simply have Vertin bring his teammates back out so they could try and decide how to best handle the four of them. At the mention of his team Vertin paused, and decided it would be best to rip the bandage and show Crowleyjust how extensive her team was.

“Sir there's… something you should know, Sonetto, APPLe, and Ulu are not the only individuals that were teleported with me, the Rest of my team is in The Case, and given the situation it might be best for you to meet them, and we can decide where to go from there.”

Crowley was surprised to hear that there were more people in the case but fingered that it must be some kind of magic item that allowed for multiple people to travel together, and given what Vertin had told them about the foundation such a tool must have been useful for large groups. Crowley watched as Vertin opened the Case and began to speak into it to call  ‘everybody’ out and that they needed to discuss the situation. Setting the case down to the floor, Crowley watched as the familiar shapes of APPLe, and Sonettos dog form popped out, followed by an unfamiliar bear cub, and then as spider, followed by a dolphin with a triangle on its Dorsal Fin, and more and more came out. Each time each animal would turn into a person once they had reached a spot where there was enough space to do so without bumping into someone else.

Crowley could feel himself getting paler and paler, as he saw more and more people, from different age groups, gender, and species appearing. There were men, women, children, a scarecrow, even a dog dressed like a king. It wasn't long before a large gathering had formed, and the headmage watched as a small armie had emerged from within the case.

“Well sir that is everyone,” Vertin said as Pickles simply took a seat next to Diggers who was happily looking around the room making comments on the unique vibe the room gave. Crowley could only stair for a moment mouth agape before he did the only thing any person could after seeing the parade of people suddenly appear before him from someone's luggage.

Crowley passed out.

#reverse 1999 #video games #fanfic #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland

[voidsentprinces]

Warrior of Light: So while we're waiting for Themis to return from...bleaching his robes, I fucking guess. Got any facts?

Erichthonius: Fact?

Warrior of Light: Yeah, you're like....a Key Warder right? So when you're not keeping up the jail bars of the prisoners. You're more of less like...a glorified brochure of information, like Hermes was right?

Erichthonius: I suppose so. Well, lets see. The Proto-Carbuncle's ability to copy or reflect its prey's abilities makes its durability near second to none. There's your cool Pandaemonium f--

Emet-Selch: I GOT A COOL FACT FOR AZEM'S FAMILIAR WHO I JUST LEARNED WALTZED ITS WAY INTO PANDAEMONIUM WITHOUT PROPER CLEARANCE.

Warrior of Light: Oh great, he's here too.

Erichthonius: How did YOU get in without proper clearance?

Emet-Selch: Fuck you, thats how. Now here's my cool fact! *leans in close* Your owner will pay for their actions and God will not be merciful.

Themis: Ah, Emet-Selch. Did Azem eat your ice cream again?

Emet-Selch: Wow, even Elidibus is here. And it was my last fucking ice cream!

Lahabrea: Pandaemonium, Fourteenth Circle, the Audacity of that Bitch (Savage).

Emet-Selch: FUCK YOU, LAHABREA!

Athena: I heard God.

Warrior of Light: Go back to sleep, Athena. I haven't unlocked your raid tier yet.

Erichthonius: Unlock her wh--

Warrior of Light: Don't worry about it. I do it all the time.

--Meanwhile--

Alisaie: So...he's coming back right?

Louisoix: "Right after I level Blue Mage", he said.

Nael: Which was three years ago.

#{ I don't know where i was going with this }

[askarss]

[uses anon magic to turn Carbuncle into a fully functioning human child]

[+ a little 14 year old Schezo has appeared to interact with the cast because anon magic exists (boy I wonder how older Schezo and Satan are gonna react to tiny Schez boi).]

"Wh- Carbunny? CARBUNNY?!?!?!?!??!!? CARBUNNY SPEAK TO ME. SAY SOMETHING!!!!!! CARBUNNY SWEETIE-"

"HOW TO WE CHANGE IT BACK?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!??!?! SATAN!!!!!!"

"Why is this kid here. Get him away."

#puyo questions #madou monogatari #puyo puyo #satan #arle #rulue #schezo #drawing with fiery

[prince-in-splendour]

[Another audio recording. Transcript follows.]

<Mumbling in Kalosian>

HEY! You there! Pretty girl!

huh?

You didn't think you were getting outta here without a BATTLE, did ya? Come on out, Carbuncle!

nenenene! dededenne!

i...i can't battle right now...and i'm a boy...i need to go, sorry.

Wh-Hey, Pinky, where do you think you're off to?!

[Quick footsteps away.]

sorry!

HEEEEY! Kids these days...!

#pokemon irl #pkmn irl #pkmn rp #pokemon rp #rotomblr

[witchofthescions]

It was a trap.

Thancred was the first to notice something seemed strange. "The Amalj'aa would never leave this place so poorly guarded."

The Warriors of Darkness had lured them into a trap, having apparently decided it would be faster to just kill Erna herself instead of wasting time with primals.

“One life for one world. A fair exchange, wouldn't you agree?”

Is that really what it’s come to? Would any of this really save what’s left of the Warriors’ home…?

Erna didn’t have much time to think about that particular question as the fight began in earnest. She was still kicking herself for failing to recognize Urianger despite him walking around without a hood. She was just thankful that he wasn’t actually a traitor at least, though a part of her still questioned what his end goal really was. Why did he team up with the Warriors of Darkness, only to stab them in the back at such a critical moment? Yet another question that the current circumstances left her little time to ponder.

It became very apparent very quickly that there was something of a bias to both sides’ combat leanings, and the Warriors of Darkness arguably had the advantage. Of the seven on Erna’s side, only two did not rely on magic to fight. Of the six on the Warriors’ side, there were only two who did. And as it turns out, those who can swing a weapon have something of an advantage over those who need time to cast spells.

Especially when one such weapon swinger has decided to make it his mission to harry the summoner so she can’t add her power to her friend’s spell. It’s really hard to concentrate when you have a warrior trying to cleave you in half with his axe, after all.

“Can someone get this man off my ass?!” Erna yelled as she leaned out of the way of his swing.

“I’d love to,” Thancred called back, ducking under the knight’s swing, “but I fear I’m a little preoccupied myself.”

Cress trained his gun on the miqo’te with the greatsword, firing a shot as he wound up for a big swing. The bullet hit the blade and knocked the swordsman off balance just enough for his swing to miss Thancred. Without missing a beat, Thancred took advantage of the swordsman’s disorientation and swept his legs out from under him, using his momentum to send him crashing face first into the ground. Before he had a chance to finish him off, however, the knight stepped in and shielded the fallen miqo’te.

“Oh no you don't!”

He forced Thancred to back away as the Miqo’te got to his feet and collected his blade. The miqo'te rushed the viera, clearly intent on finishing him before he could line up another shot. Of course, considering he had the advantage of range, this would be easier said than done.

“Hurry! We must finish them before their mage completes that spell!” Alphinaud shouted.

“I’d love to, if the damn warrior would let me get close to Alisaie!”

Lenar’s sapphire carbuncle scanned the field, letting him take stock of the chaos. With a sigh he called out, “Alphinaud, take over the healing for a moment.”

Alphinaud shot the scholar a bewildered look. “Wh-What?”

Lenar shut his codex, lined up a shot… and tossed the book right at the enemy warrior’s head. It smacked right into him, knocking him off balance. He turned just in time to see Lenar draw his sword and charge. He barely had time to raise his axe to block before the elezen was upon him. But once he engaged, the warrior quickly realized he was stuck on the defensive. The scholar's moves were quick and difficult to predict. He hadn't expected the book-wielding mage to be so capable in close combat.

Erna stared at the spectacle of Lenar the healer going for the throat both literally and metaphorically, momentarily thrown for a loop. She had only ever seen Lenar fight so viciously against dragons. And never with a sword. To see him fight so skillfully, and even gain the upper hand against someone clearly more experienced in close combat was a sight she never expected to see.

But her distraction was only temporary. She ran over to Alisaie and offered up what aether she could spare.

#The Unending Journey (Drabbles) #The Far Edge of Fate (Patch 3.4-3.5)

[solarsollux]

No one will convince me this isn’t what happens 90% of the time after the end of Elias’ route

#wizardess heart #shall we date wizardess heart #elias goldstein #swd fanart #swd wh #wh elias #carbuncle #wh carbuncle

[scrollsfromgedonelune]

#Wizardess Heart #NTT Solmare #SWD: Wizardess Heart #Elias Goldstein #WH Carbuncle #Scrolls From Gedonelune #texts from last night

[dark-wizardess]

A friend of mine had their birthday today (well technically tomorrow but it's past 12 where they're from) so I decided to make them a little surpise so for the previous 2 days I've been drawing nonstop lol. Here is what I ended up drawing (without the birthday text) happy person to them! They're a great artist themselves and drew prefect Lillias for me a while back!

Check out their Twitter!

#wizardess heart #ntt solmare #wizardess heart art #wizardess heart fan art #wizardess heart+ #wh #swd wh #swd wh+ #wh+ #shall we date: wh #shall we date wizardessheart #shall we date wizardess heart+ #randy march #serge durandal #klaus goldstein #Carbuncle

[lunarlunnux]

Weekend Round Up!

Any images seen here can be found as single posts back on the blog feed though :D

#wh #swd wh #swd #wizardess heart+ #shall we date #shall we date wizardess heart #wizardess heart #I never know to keep the + in or not #chica #chimera #alfonse goldstein #devi #yukiya reizen #seth #carbuncle #taffy #holy crow I drew so much this week #even I'm shookith #my art

[thoselethalarts]

The Tweels as Quotes from the Ten Minute Power Hour

Floyd: Can you put (the jenga piece) back in the already pulled spots? Jade: No, you have to put it at the top. Floyd: (mockingly) Oh, you’re s’possed t’ put’em at the top... Jade: Floyd: (snickers) Jade: You asked me the godamn question...

(playing jenga) Jade: Eat my balls, and pull a- log! Jade: ...That’s what I... tell them. Floyd: "Eat my balls and pull a log!” Jade: (laughs) Down at Jade’s... Chicken ‘n Waffles!

Jade: (pulls a plastic sheet off a toy mirror they got) Floyd: Y-! You didn't even savor the peelies! Jade: (wheezes) Octavinelle: Savor the Peelies.

Jade: (licks lipgloss) Oh, that's not bad. Azul: What the fuck, Jade..?! Jade: (licks again) ...It's not good. Jade: ...It's not food.

Jade: (dripping pink liquid makeup all over Floyd’s face) You look like something that they’d serve at 2:30 in the morning at IHOP. (laughs) Floyd: ....I feel like I just came back from a mythical creature bukkake. Jade: (BREAKS DOWN LAUGHING)

Jade: “Hearing Things: The Lip Reading Challenge Game” from Has-bro! Jade and Floyd: I-HAS-BRO! Jade: (flops over cackling) Floyd: DO YOU HAS-BRO!?

Jade: (trying to take a size sticker off his shirt) I’m a medium, by the way. A lot of fans keep trying to send me a large and it doesn’t fit, they’re too big... Floyd: I’m an XL. A lot of fans keep trying to send me a small because they think I’m a petite little boy- Jade: (starts laughing) Floyd: -but I am in fact a large, long eel. Jade: (laughs more)

Jade: The headmaster is worried that our guests are not consenting to being here so today- Floyd, aggressively clutching Grim: C'mon Sealy! Tell the camera how much you love being here!

Floyd, whispering to the camera: Jade's making bad moves over here.... Jade: Floyd. Jade: Dicks. Eat them.

Jade: Hi Ruggie! Can we feed you? Ruggie: I am so uncomfortably used to be asked that question!

Floyd: (stuffing chips into Ruggie's mouth) Jade: That's a lot of barbeque chips. (laughs) Ruggie: (gives a noise of pain and a thumbs up as chips fall out of his mouth and all over the table) Jade and Floyd: (absolutely lose it)

Jade: (making a line of coffee grounds on the table) Floyd: Don’t. Don’t do it. Jade: What. You’ve never done coffee snooters?!

Floyd: (pouring milk into Jade’s hands so he can use them as a bowl for cereal) Jade: aaaaaAAAAAAAA! GOD, IT’S SO COLD- That’s enough, Floyd. Floyd: I like a lot of milk in my cereal!

Jade and Ortho: (clapping loudly in front of Floyd's face) Floyd: STOP!!! 

Floyd: (harassing Jade to hurry up) Jade: ALRIGHT, you shitfuck! Oh- sorry, sorry Ortho. Ortho: Oh my god I'm like 11... Jade and Floyd: (cracking up)

Ortho: Gods, it smells like henweigh in here... Jade: Floyd: Jade.....doesn't it smell like henweigh in here? Jade, defeated: What's a henwei- Ortho: (slapping his hands on the table) ABOUT 10 POUNDS!! (laughter ensues between them)

- Bonus -

Jade: Wh- "The carbuncle ate itself"?? What does that MEAN??!? Floyd: (incredulous, delirious laughter) Jade: I can’t think of four words that had LESS to do with our current situation!

#ツイステッドワンダーランド #Twisted Wonderland #TWST #octavinelle #jade leech #floyd leech #twst incorrect quotes #incorrect quotes #shitpost #yes I'm obsessed with applying these two to Arin and Dan simply because their dynamic fits too fucking well #no you can't stop me #soul writes

[izucrew-bakusquad]

Tokoyami, Ojiro, Bakugou, and Kirishima, on a mission:

Tokoyami and Ojiro: *run through a doorway before Bakugou and Kirishima*

The doorway: *closes*

Bakugou: Is that... closi--

Kirishima: What-- that. Did they just close us off, and nobody else?

Screen in room: The Carbuncle ate itself.

Kirishima: Wh-- THE CARBUNCLE ATE ITSELF?!

Bakugou: *sobbing in laughter*

Kirishima: What does that mean?! I can’t think of four words that have less to do with our situation!

Tokoyami, through earpiece: What’s wrong? Where are you?

Kirishima: Terrible news, guys. The Carbuncle ate itself.

Bakugou: *still crying from laughter in the background*

Kirishima: My mind is just pudding.

Bakugou, almost whimpering: The Carbuncle ate itself.

Kirishima: That’s the kind of shit we here when they drop off a suitcase with all the intel, you know? The chocolate moose is not in season. The Carbuncle ate itself.

Bakugou: I did read that correctly, right?

Kirishima: Yeah. Oh yeah. I don’t even know what a Carbuncle is. Gonna have to look that up.

#mod septic #terrible news guys #the carbuncle ate itself #eijirou kirishima #fumikage tokoyami #mashirao ojiro #katsuki bakugou #can''t believe this #carbuncle ate itself

[mathemagiks]

Prompt 16: Lucubration

FFXIVWrite2020 Prompt 16: Lucubration @sea-wolf-coast-to-coast​

Ehn hadn’t realized he had fallen asleep until something was tickling his nose. “Mrrrp? Wh...?” He pulled his face up from the table, blinking tiredly in the soft glow of the carbuncle in his face. “Oh... hello Rascal,” he murmured, reaching up to scratch at his long ears. “How long was I...?”

“Oh, you're still here!” A few more blinks revealed it to be Moren, his smile soft as he hugged the book he was carrying to his chest. “You’ve been studying for quite a while. Maybe you should take a break?”

“No I--” Ehn cut himself off with a yawn, barely managing to cover his mouth. “I’m fine... just needed to rest my eyes for a bit.”

And maybe the rest of him, but now that Ehn was awake his brain was beginning to get back on track. He had to get as much research in as he could before they left, and none of these books were at his fingertips again. He wasn’t letting this chance slip away.

Moren, thankfully, proved to be the sort that was kind enough not to scold his wording. Instead he offered a nod, stepping back once more. “Well the Cabinet is always open... You’re free to come and go if you ever need a rest.” A pause, and then the man gently lifted a hand to his own face. “You, ah... also have something right here.”

Ehn lifted a hand to his cheek to mirror, raising an eyebrow when his fingers found thick card paper below them. When he peeled it away, he found himself holding a smudged note card in his hand. Oh... he hoped he still had a handkerchief, or else he’d be walking back to the Pendants with ink on his face.

#FFXIVWrite2020 #Ehn Harmonia #Drabble #shb spoilers but not really???

[alvaar-aldaviir]

Movement: Zartheit

Time Frame: Some point after Shadowbringers. No Spoilers.

Notes: Not precisely canon compliant because who can say what happens after current content? I also take liberties with Bard abilities because they are so loosely defined in lore. One day we’ll have some pieces to expand on Alvaar’s bardic quirks, but times are tough so have some fluff.

Cross posted to AO3

 -

Alphinaud had long learned to stop questioning the extent of domestic knowledge the Warrior of Light seemed to possess, but you couldn’t especially blame him if he found ‘novice hairdresser’ a surprising addition to the list.

 -

  “You really need a trim.”

Looking up from his tome, Alphinaud looked back over his shoulder to fix the Bard with a raised brow. He didn’t say anything, but the silent glower made it apparent his thoughts were elsewhere.

Putting his hands up in the symbol of ‘no offense’ for a moment, Alvaar stepped closer and held his hands up with open palms. “If I may?”

Sighing and returning to his research he finished scribbling a few notes. “If you must,” the Scholar replied noncommittally, mind still fixated on his most recent arcane discovery and how it might apply to his own abilities.

“Then I must,” Alvaar replied, carefully smoothing white strands down before delicately removing the hair tie and metal ornament that held the Elezen’s long hair back and setting them aside. Gently freeing long snowy locks and combing his fingers through to loose any snarls.

“You’ve been busy of late,” Alvaar commented simply.

“As have you,” Alphinaud returned placidly, frowning slightly given the Bard was preoccupied and wouldn’t notice. He wasn’t going to say it but the absence had been... quite noticeable. Still, they both had their duties and it wouldn’t do to treat the Bard so dismissively when he was freshly returned from a mission.

Glancing up at the white fringe of hair obstructing his view, he sighed faintly. “I suppose I, may be more in need of an appointment than I’d thought. But Scion work does ever come in droves,” he continued.

“Indeed. ... I didn’t mean any offense Alphinaud, but I don’t know that I’ve ever seen you this unkempt.” Pausing with a snort of laughter at the reflexive tensing of slim shoulders, Alvaar patted his arm. “Your bangs have gotten too long, and your braid isn’t lying sleek. You know I’m a fop at heart I just have an eye for this.”

“Well not all of us are so privileged as to have an aesthetician on call,” Alphinaud shot back with notable cheek.

“If you knew what I had to put up with to keep that man equipped in scissors and glitter every time he misplaced them you would think I got the short end of the stick. If I have Jandelaine on call, then he’s got a Warrior of Light as a personal errand boy for every lost implement disaster. Not that anyone else might know such privileges right Alphinaud?” Alvaar mocked sweetly. “Now shut it and tilt your chin up, I need to see how bad this is.”

Huffing and dropping a blank sheet of parchment in his book he snapped it shut loudly and offered a smirk when he complied.

Predictably, the Bard hissed out a laugh and smoothed his hair down to inspect the length. “Little shit.”

“If I have learned anything of being a particular thorn in others sides it must have been from you, dear friend.” Even so there was only amusement in the words.

It was the sort of barbs and banter he’d been missing with Alvaar and Alisaie both on a long expedition for Urianger. For while he certainly got along well with his fellow Scions, there was a natural sort of ease to the taunts thrown back and forth with his sister and, once the Bard became more talkative, Alvaar as well.

The man in question just offered his own faint smile of amusement before amethyst eyes were studying his face intently for things Alphinaud couldn’t begin to understand. In fact, he opted to just shut his eyes and wait patiently through the inspection lest he get caught up staring into that jewel toned gaze longer than was appropriate. It wasn’t enough that he’d been dealing with people insinuating an ever-growing crush on the Bard for the last few years, he didn’t need to be teased about it by the man himself too.

Even if it was true...

“Do you want me to trim it for you? If you want a style change, I’d recommend an appointment but I can at least clean up the split ends and I know your hairstyle probably better than your own hairdresser. Up for it? I’ll even let you keep reading.”

“You know how to cut hair too?” Alphinaud asked with minimal surprise. At this point, Alvaar could say he had experience in about any profession and he’d likely believe him.

Another amused snort. “Anyone can cut hair... it takes study to be able to style it and not butcher it. But yes, I know enough to do all the touch ups in my Free Company. And if I should somehow manage to offend, I’ll pay for Jandelaine to fix it myself. Now please, I beg you. Let me trim it. Unless you’re dedicating to a longer style I don’t think I can tolerate this mop nearly as well as you can.”

“It’s not that bad...”

“..... Technically no, you’re still better styled than the bulk of adventurers I travel with but... this is weird for me so let me fix it. Alphinaud Leveilleur I beg of you, gift unto me the privilege of saving you from the pox that is untamed growth of one’s own hair. For King and Country I won’t rest until I’ve slain that which offends mine senses.”

“Oh just shut up and do it Aldaviir. You’ll just hound me until I let you anyway,” Alphinaud shot back, pausing and flushing faintly at the flow of words he’d most definitely picked up from the Bard.

“Ahh,” Alvaar sighed, a blissful smile in his words, and the rustle of fabric as he put a hand to his heart. “As my Prince doth proclaim, so must I attend.”

“You’re an insufferable Bard when you’ve been reading romance novels, you know that?”

A long pause.

“I don’t deserve these call outs Leveilleur.”

A faint click caught his attention and he opened his eyes to regard the Bard. Seeing how prepared and serious Alvaar was as he started summoning and laying out tools, Alphinaud took one look at the spray bottle that was set down and quickly cleared his research off the table. Let him read... ha.

“If you’re that serious I’ll just go take a bath Alvaar. It’ll be easier.”

Pausing, the blond tapped a fine-tooth comb to his jaw in thought. “True. I should probably join you. Much as I love them, the smell of chocobos tends to cling...”

“In that case after you! Long travels are terrible and my hair isn’t going anywhere. I’ll just clean up in my room,” he chirped, quickly up on his feet and actually pushing the Bard towards the door.

“Wh- hey what the...” Alvar griped but let himself be shoved out the door by the shorter Elezen regardless.

“Go forth, take your time, I’ll be in my quarters when you’re ready.” Shutting the door behind the Bard, Alphinaud turned to lean his back against it and sigh. Not his most subtle of misdirects but in the panic it was all that he had.

“You realize you could just ask to use the bath after me if you’re that sensitive to modesty...” Alvaar reminded him from the other side of the door.

Oh. Damnit.

“Nerd.”

-

For as much as he’d fidgeted and worried about further teasing, Alvaar had done the Scholar the courtesy of leaving it at that. In fact, he’d almost forgotten about any potential embarrassment until he opened the door to his room and found Alvaar sitting at his desk, studying the desktop carbuncle calendar Alisaie had bought him as a gift.

But then the Bard rose up to his slippered feet smoothly, dressed in a well-tailored green tunic nipped close at the waist and gray khakis that accented his tall physique, and one embarrassment was probably just going to be replaced with another. In common clothes Alvaar didn’t look anything like what people pictured as the Warrior of Light, but it certainly did even less to hide that effeminately handsome face of his when he wasn’t wearing his hat. Framed with still damp green accented blond, once again cut and feathered to a medium length that complimented him well, he could start to see why people had a hard time recognizing him in his craft clothes. In his battle gear there was something unaffected and inspiring to him, a remote calm and surety that made even enemies give pause.

Dressed in his house clothes however Alvaar was just... normal. Still handsome and graceful but far less intimidating. He was approachable... touchable even...

If Alphinaud hadn’t spent the bulk of the last three years with Alvaar during the brunt of his ‘bisexual awakening,’ he probably wouldn’t be able to handle it. Instead he just steeled his nerve and tried to resume his thoughts on his research. What sort of adjustments would need to be made to the arcane geometries of his moonstone carbuncle summon to make it more efficient with aetheric flow and-

“Park it Leveilleur. You can think about your nerd shit while I’m working,” Alvaar huffed with a knowing look and bless him but the return to normal sass made it easier to handle.

Taking the offered seat he lifted his chin proudly, letting Alvaar tuck a sheet around him for cover before the Bard started into his task. Easing his fingers through damp strands he plucked a comb off the table and set to straightening with patient care.

“Well if you had any interest in being an Arcanist then perhaps I’d talk about it instead,” he remarked lightly, already knowing how this would go and taking comfort in the familiarity.

“Aetheric Magic isn’t my thing. I pull enough miracles out of my arse as a Bard as is, I don’t need the effort of more expectations of miracles scholars can filtch. I turn a volcano into a temperate climate and clear a blizzard for a small contingent of warriors with the power of song alone and no, you sots just want a different colored carbuncle. Fuck that I’ll leave the discoveries to you and pick up spare change playing requests on harp in bars.”

Okay, maybe not so familiar...

“Difficult trip?” he asked lightly.

“Just annoying. Not much for discovery and an endurance trial on my patience. If Alisaie hadn’t been around I’d hazard it would have been downright dull.”

“Is that so? I had been led to believe it involved Allagan technology,” he continued, leaving the statement hanging and waiting for the Bard to take the bait.

An annoyed huff answered it. “Nothing new. Allagan cruelty knows no bounds it seems. Heartless bastards, I’m glad they’re all dead. I don’t see much purpose to arcane advancement when it comes at a cost of feeling and reason,” Alvaar griped bitterly.

Tipping his chin up so he could meet the Bards gaze he studied him a moment. “Your statements are fair. Still, thank you for going anyway. I felt much better for my sister’s safety knowing you were along.”

Staring back a moment, Alvaar sighed slowly, tension finally easing out of his shoulders and running the comb through his bangs.

“As if she needs the help... your sister is a hellcoeurl when you get her going. Now stay still. If you move like that when I’ve got my scissors I’m liable to snip an ear off and then I’ll be obligated to dock the other one for balance,” Alvaar remarked flatly before giving a slight grin at the faintly horrified look on his friends face. Fingers lightly gripping the Scholars jaw he centered his head and grabbed his scissors.

Holding still, Alphinaud shut his eyes again and let Alvaar work, the soft hiss of scissors working away as gentle fingers slipped through his hair. It was... nice. He’d thought it might be a bit more awkward but there was something soothing about the attention and touch.

He was roused a bit by a thumb trailing under his eye once the Bard had finished trimming his bangs back to their standard length. Blinking his eyes open cautiously he raised a brow at Alvaar’s assessing stare.

“You’re working too hard again. You need to be careful with that or-”

“Or I’ll end up possessed by an Ascian. Yes, I recall. You fret like a maid Alvaar,” he interjected calmly, using the old phrase that had caused him no end of grief once and now was some old inside joke between them.

Something in the Bards gaze softened at the words, rising back up to his towering height and pacing back around to start cleaning up any split ends on the long whip of white hair he’d yet to fuss with. Setting his scissors aside he again set to untangling silken strands, tutting under his breath.

“Someone has to or your sister would have an absolute fit. I would rather not invoke her wrath over something so preventable. ... going to need to trim this back an inch, that alright?”

“Whatever you think is best, I trust you,” he replied automatically, probably a bit more heartfelt than was necessary but... no less true.

Again, a change of implements and the sharp rasp of scissors snipping away carefully. Focused and methodical and the Scholar almost found himself falling asleep but that mock threat kept him stubbornly upright and still. In fact, a small part of him was sad when Alvaar finally put comb and scissors away, brushing any loose trimmings free and reclaiming the sheet with a quick efficiency.

But it wouldn’t be polite of him to further monopolize Alvaar’s time so shortly after he’d returned. Even so, he didn’t rise from his seat, instead sinking a bit farther in and tipping his chin up so he could let his hair hang off the back of the chair to dry a bit more.

“Much better,” Alvaar hummed as he finished cleaning up, tossing the swept-up clippings and pausing as he turned to regard his friend and ally. Studying him quietly a moment he stepped back over, nearly startling the Scholar as his fingers slipped back into white hair.

“Tataru says you haven’t been sleeping,” Alvaar commented stoically, combing through his hair with his hands this time and letting it slide through his fingers.

Well, that was the double-edged sword of being good friends with a gossip...

“There’s been,” he paused, dragging in a deep breath as he pondered it, “much to do my friend. Where the summoning of Primals may slow, other problems take their place. Many have come seeking aid from the Scions of late and as the de facto leader, it’s been on me to meet with them all. I’ve made what arrangements I could but, as you know it is nearly impossible to help everyone...” the Scholar trailed off with a sigh.

He gave a faint start as Alvaar slid fingers up along his jaw, gently encouraging him upright with a soft, “Straighten up. Relax.”

“Alvaar?” the Scholar asked, a note of genuine concern mixed in his puzzled tone.

“Hush.” Soothing his palms out along Alphinaud’s neck the Bard set into a massage, humming something softly under his breath and hands warming up noticeably. A casual display of the potency of his skill in Bardsong that would have startled if Alphinaud hadn’t seen such effortless works before. “What sleep you are getting isn’t very restful. You’ve too much tension in your neck,” Alvaar chided grumpily even as his fingers worked their magic with gentle care. “You need to take better care of yourself Leveilleur.”

Perhaps. But a small part of him would miss the attention if he didn’t give the Bard something to fuss over. He also suspected (and maybe hoped) that on some level Alvaar needed such things too regardless of what he said. If he didn’t, then his mother hen attitude wouldn’t have him fussing over almost anyone given half a chance.

Alvaar certainly seemed at his most relaxed when he had mundane things to worry about, though given how many world scale problems were thrust on him it could have just been a product of perspective. Fussing over someone’s appearance and fixing it was a far cry from smiting world evils after all.

But to say any of that would probably be too much so Alphinaud elected to say nothing at all. He merely settled a bit firmer into those hands and soaked in the comfort of another person’s touch.

Bit by bit his thoughts quieted, worries and concerns falling away now that Alvaar and Alisaie were back safe and sound. Things would quickly return to the routine he preferred and found the most comfort in.

And his Warrior of Light was back home. Here at his side once more, stalwart companion to the bitter end. Focused on him and giving off that familiar feeling of safety and support he’d come to depend on through the years.

He didn’t doubt that tomorrow he’d look back over those petitions for aid and be able to find new solutions. If Alvaar could make doing the impossible seem effortless, then he could do no less in the matters he was suited for. He could only ever rise to meet that challenge. Pull together various resources and people to find a solution that they could follow-

Thumbs hooked over the back of his ears, work-worn hands covering them and in the wake of the last few weeks of constant meetings and stress the abrupt narrowed silence was disorienting. Even as his feet shifted on reflex for balance, he was already unconsciously reaching for Alvaar’s hands.

The movement had the Bard starting to shift away, a half-formed apology on his tongue before Alphinaud pulled him back. Slender fingers gripped against Alvaar’s hands and held them back in place, leaning into the contact without saying a word.

He hadn’t ever been one for silence in a world with so much that needed to be said. But that brief listless moment had pointed him towards something he’d forgotten that he needed. A brief reprieve held safely in the hands of someone he trusted, though it was not generally so literal...

It was the same sort of soulful quiet he often found with his twin. The comfortable air of safe silence that tended to have them both asleep leaned against one another. The reassurance of knowing you weren’t alone and whatever happened someone would be there with you to face whatever you awoke to.

But here...? After so long he found that here? Whose heart was he hearing beat a staccato then, his or Alvaar’s? Snapping out of it he let go, quickly leaning forward to break the contact.

“My apologies,” he murmured hastily. “I... it’s been a difficult time these last weeks. You likely have much to attend to given you just returned. I believe your retainers have also been checking in regularly the last few days so they must be-”

“Shut it Leveilleur,” Alvaar snarked flatly, making the Scholar jump a bit at the tone. “I’m not done. Besides, there’s another summit in two days isn’t there? I’m not showing up with the Leader of the Scions sporting unkempt hair and bags under his eyes. If we’re going to have to sit at the same table as those backstabbing little heathens then we may as well look fucking fabulous while we do it. So, sit up, I’ve still got work to do given you’re still a damn mess.”

Looking over his shoulder at him, Alphinaud stared at Alvaar in stunned surprised.

Putting a hand at his hip and shifting his stance to one of cocky annoyance, Alvaar raised a brow. “You’ll make me look bad Alphinaud. I’ve got a reputation to uphold as the best-looking Warrior of Light Eorzea will ever know and I’m not letting you jeopardize it. Let’s go.” Holding his hand out a bottle dropped into it from the aether with a puff of smoke, tossing and flipping it nonchalantly. “Leave in conditioner doesn’t apply itself.”

A delayed snort of laughter escaped the Scion, quickly having to turn around to stuff his hands to his face to try and quiet it.

“.... What, you think fashion is funny?! It’s fucking suffering now quit laughing and get over here!” Alvaar bitched, swatting lightly at his friends’ shoulder but even without turning to see it the Scholar knew he was smiling. Especially when Alvaar finally started to laugh and then gave an unflattering snort, and that set the both of them off again.

“Thank you,” Alphinaud murmured softly, but no less heartfelt as the Bard massaged whatever floral scented cream into his hair once they’d both collected themselves.

“It’s fine. Just another part of my job as your personal errand boy,” Alvaar returned cheekily.

Lifting his chin with a frown the man couldn’t see Alphinaud huffed. “I mean it Alvaar. Thank you for helping me.”

The Elezen paused, studying the snowy strands threaded through his fingers a moment. “.... You’re welcome. But you’re not the only one who needed a reprieve Alphinaud. I like doing things like this. It’s... relaxing,” he answered, tone quiet and even. That sign that he felt he was revealing too much even with so little a detail.

It was as he’d expected then...

“Still,” he insisted anyway.

“... You know if you grew this all out and we feathered it for body you’d have some truly amazing hair,” Alvaar carried on with a subject change. “I think it would even put Aymeric to shame. Very dashing, like some storybook prince. Everyone would swoon.”

Shutting his eyes, the Scholar just smiled a touch wider and leaned the faintest bit further into that gentle touch. Did that mean Alvaar as well? “Maybe.”

“Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“I’m afraid my sister hoarded my half of it.”

“Tch. Blasted Leveilleurs. You need to learn to share.”

-

“Alphi?” Alvaar asked untold minutes later once he’d noticed the Scholar had been silent for some time.

The hands that had been working over his shoulders stopped, and though Alvaar called his name again Alphinaud didn’t want to respond. Perhaps it was a moment of selfishness but he vainly hoped that perhaps the Bard might stay for a bit more in this peaceful quiet. At least until he actually fell asleep...

A gentle hand ruffled his hair with another attempt at calling him though this time it was softer as the man shifted to see if he was awake or not. It took a bit to not smile under that scrutiny and give himself away but if he couldn’t manage at least that he would never have made it so far in politics. A haggard sigh left the Bard and then he shifted back behind him. Whatever he might have been hoping for hadn’t expected Alvaar to lean down and slip his arms about his shoulders, hugging him gently.

“What am I going to do with you... my friend you work yourself much too hard if you can fall asleep sitting up like that,” Alvaar whispered, squeezing him the faintest bit tighter and settling his cheek to satiny strands.

It was enough to make his heart skip a beat in panic.

It had been some time since Alvaar had last hugged him. While the Bard tended to come off as physically distant and stoic, at least at first; it was the furthest from the truth once he was comfortable with you. Really it was probably because Alvaar knew how embarrassed it made him. There had been a few times he’d caught Alvaar giving him a tight look of empathy, but he’d generally refrained from moving closer unless things were particularly dour.

It wasn’t that he disliked such things, but part of his pride hated to come off as weak. After all he had done for Shards and Source he didn’t think it much to ask that people stop treating him as a child because of his height. Where flustered pride would have him pull away, now he had no excuse but to stay. To feel that warmth and comfort folded around him and soak it in. A part of him almost wished to reach back. To bury himself against the Bards chest as he had a few times before and relish in that protective strength.

But that would be too much.

It was one thing to accept comfort in a moment of weakness. Wholly another to just ask for it because your closest friends had been away too long. A silly distinction perhaps, but then few had ever asked so much of a friend as he. From the time his youthful arrogance had callously brandished the Warrior of Light as one would a blade to now when invariably something would happen that only Alvaar could attend and he would have to summon him to battle once more.

It would be too much to place the burden of his loneliness on the man as well; especially when he knew Alvaar would likely do most anything he asked. Even if he didn’t genuinely want to… a thought that bothered him to no end.

Instead he would just accept what the Bard gave freely, as he did now silently soaking in this chance comfort. Letting his friend fuss over him because Alvaar also found relief in it. And he’d hold on to those favors one would need to ask of friends for when they needed them most.

A knock at the door startles them both, and though he’s upset to feel Alvaar quickly pull away it at least spares him the quandary of how he was going to slip out of that ruse without giving himself away. Instead he lifts his head after a moment to stare at the door with a falsified tired blink.

“Alphinaud are you in?” Alisaie calls, and he almost frowns but the relief to hear her voice again after so long gets the better of him.

“Yes, come in,” he answers. He glances at Alvaar as the Bard shakes out the sheet for a third time fussily before he busies himself with cleaning his scissors and comb, but he’s pointedly not looking at him.

Curious.

“Ah, there’s the pair of you. I had thought you would be off for that nap you kept complaining about Alvaar not hiding away in my brothers room,” Alisaie remarks as she lets herself in, an amused quirk to her lips that the Scholar isn’t quite sure he likes the look of and when they lock eyes he knows for a fact he doesn’t. He would be hearing about this later no doubt. Few enjoyed teasing him more than his sister.

“Well, I do like the peace and quiet,” Alvaar returns drily. “It beats the nonstop chattering of our contact… Besides, Alphi needed a trim and you know I can’t very well let enough alone once something has bothered me.” It gets a soft snort of amusement from her before she studies her twin expectantly and he pushes himself up to his feet.

“Welcome back. It’s good to see you Alisaie. I’ve heard your travels were uneventful and for that I am glad even if you found it boring,” he supplies in proper greeting, offering his arms out and hugging her tight once she accepts.

It’s a nice feeling. An affirming that things are once again back to a routine he prefers even as she squeezes him a bit harder than he likes in that continued display of strength she was so fond of. It was something Alisaie had picked up after her many travels of Eorzea, and a new habit he would be remiss in chiding her for when it’s become habit to him as well.

“.... Alphinaud, do you mind telling me why your hair smells like a perfume stall?” Alisaie accused more than asked, a flat look on her face as she pulled back from their greeting embrace.

He’d barely felt his cheeks begin to flame before a sharp admission of, “Hey!” cut between them.

Snapping his fingers, Alvaar gripped a pair of scissors and pointed the handles at her as he leaned against the desk. “That’s it. You’re next Alisaie. I’ve had to tolerate that mop of flyaways and split ends for almost a month! And scorched ends! SCORCHED ENDS! I’m fixing this travesty today! Park it!”

It was nice, the way things always seemed to settle back into place when they returned. A bit less quiet and not as suited to study, but watching the pair argue while he was trying not to laugh was still preferable to the silence.

#alphinaud #alphinaud leveilleur #alvaar aldaviir #wol #alphinaud x wol #one sided pining #touch starved #minor role alisaie #FFXIV #ff14 #final fantasy xiv #final fantasy 14 #oc #writing #mywriting #sfw #zartheit: tenderness #that moment when your wol has multiclassed so hard but it was only into non combat jobs... #if aesthetician was a class Alvaar would have it

[corruptedbunny-multimuse]

"I shooooouldn't still be heeeeere." The Crewmate? said.

Carbuncle looked more and more worried. She handed Iris to Cheryl, then slowly approached the Crewmate. “Wh-what’s wrong? Maybe we can help...”

#(MESSAGE SENT | Ask) #(Weird Grey Dudes | Anon)

[kailani-ffxiv]

CHARACTER INTERVIEW: KAI

What did you have for breakfast? “Hrm? Oh umm I tried to make pancakes.. it.. it didn’t go so well, I mean er not like U’seht’s but, well I tried that’s what matters right?” 

What can you cook perfectly? “I don’t know I’d call any of it perfect, it’s editable.. Hrmm maybe walnut bread, I’ve gotten pretty good at making that.”

If you could choose a pet, what would it be? “Err.. can I call Fluff, my carbuncle one? I wouldn’t give him up but he’s more than just a companion.. it’s hard to explain.”

How is your relationship with your parents? “It was really good, unfortunately they have both passed.” Dark ears droop and oceans glance off to the side. 

What is your favorite read? “I love reading anything. Everyone has such different tastes and I think you can learn a lot about someone from the books they read. Anything that can hold my attention.. which is most things.” Her ears perk, wiggling slightly. 

Do you put both socks on first, or one sock, one shoe? “Wh-what? If I wear socks I put both of them on.. do you not-oh you mean the order not if.. oh. I can’t say I’ve thought much about that.” 

Do you fold your clothes before bed? “Fold.. oh when you take them off, it depends if where I’m sleeping? If it’s something I’m going to need to slip into quickly on a ship then I hang it beside my bunk. If I’m in port then typically put away or placed somewhere else.”

How do you feel about marriage? “I think people should do it if they feel it’s what they want? I don’t think a piece of paper dictates if a relationship is healthy or legitimate.. not all cultures have marriages.. I’m not sure what I would do if you are asking that.” 

Who was the last person you crushed on? Oceans squinted and ears flicked “Most people tell me I’m not heavy if I do sit on them-Oh! I.. Ooh.. That kind. Umm I.. well I mean.. err..Th-that’s none of your business.” Her cheeks darken and ears lower. 

What does your dream home look like? And where would it be? “Mm, I haven’t really thought about this either. Somewhere near water? Aye that might be nice.”

What’s your worst habit? “I.. I’m not sure? Maybe biting my lip.. it bleeds a lot but doesn’t scar or anything.”

What do you do for a living and how do you feel about your job? “I’m a sailor.. I really like my job and I think I do it well.” A soft sigh and shoulders shrug “Some people call me a privateer. It’s not that they are wrong, most of us are.. I just stay on the legal side of things.”  

Tagged by: @claihn Tagging: @quirkycoterie @eviloblivion @shadowborne-ffxiv @sigridderioslainn @ketsuchikotetsu

#thank you for the tag #rp prompts #I'm sorry this took me forever

[starswornoaths]

💏? (if that's alright)

@glyphenthusiast I sat on this for waaaaay to long but it’s pride month now and I’m bi af so have some Soft Sapphic Smooches~! Under the cut bc I was an indecisive bean and picked 3 of them, so it’s a little long. Thank you so much for being wonderful, considerate, patient you, my dear

(For disclosure’s sake, these have been pre-approved prior to posting! Enjoy~)

26. As an apology

The fight with the Behemoth had been hard won— and while it had been a worthwhile risk, one that she was glad to have taken in the first place, Serella would be lying if she said it was only her armor that came out of the encounter worse for wear. Her whole body ached down to her bones.

Yet though their hunting mark was only just fallen, its body still warm with the dying embers of life, the Paladin’s eyes scanned the field for her companion— and only once she saw the bright pink of Anemone’s head of hair did she allow herself to breathe.

Her sword, still slaked in grime and gore, was left where she had promptly stuck in the ground as she stumbled over herself to get to where Anemone was gathering herself, as well as her faithful companion Hassan.

“Are you both alright?” Serella asked, her breathing still heavy, her heart still hammering. “Any injuries?”

“None on Hassan— and for me, none that can’t wait,” Anemone responded in an effort to wave the fretful Paladin off. “We need proof it’s slain, right? Shouldn’t we—”

“It’s nothing that can’t wait,” Serella said back to her with a wry grin. She held out her hand. “Your wounds first— if not for your health, then for my propriety. Please? 

“Really, this is a minor thing.” Anemone answered with an exasperated smile even as she offered the shallow, singed graze on her arm. “It scarcely got through my armor. It will be fine.”

“I know it will,” the Paladin yessed her, hands lightly pushing away the tattered sleeve of her shirt. “You’re right,” she conceded, even as she let her healing magicks stir to life a the tips of her fingers. “It isn’t too bad— but I’d much rather we take care of this now, at least a little.”

It was a minor enough injury that Serella barely had to try to heal it before the skin had closed, lightly pink and somewhat tender, but closed and clean, her two highest priorities. Only once she was satisfied that it would no longer hinder her companion did she let her magic taper off. She nodded to herself, satisfied for the moment, even as she continued to inspect it.

“Thank you,” Anemone said with a smile.

“It was only right,” Serella answered, picking up Anemone’s discarded gauntlet. “I brought you out here— that wound was my responsibility.” Forgetting herself for a moment, she brought Anemone’s hand to her lips and kissed her knuckles. “I’m just sorry you had to endure it at all.”

The Paladin said nothing more as she helped smooth over the singed fabric of the top and handed her back the gauntlet.

“I don’t blame you for this, so please don’t blame yourself, either.” Anemone spoke up quietly. “But thank you for caring as you do.”

“I’m just relieved it isn’t worse.” Serella admitted, her cheeks growing warm as she realized she was still holding the poor woman’s hand, and letting it go.

As Serella became fully aware of how hotly the tips of her ears were burning, she promptly decided that she had said and done plenty for the day. With one of the beasts horns— and a tooth for good measure— removed for proof of the bounty, the trio made their way back to the Adventurer’s Guild for their hard earned reward.

50. Out of Love

“I had no idea you were a healer,” Anemone mused later that same day as they waited for dinner to finish cooking.

“Few do, I suppose.” Serella shrugged. She gave the ladle another turn around the pot to keep the stew at the bottom from burning. “It’s certainly not what people know me for.”

“That is true,” Anemone conceded with a smile. “Before I had ever met you, I’d only heard of you as a Paladin.”

“That’s what I am— I just also know a bit of healing here and there.” Serella tossed her a wink. “Just keep that between us, yeah? No need to have everyone with a sneeze coming to me for a cure.”

“I won’t tell a soul,” Anemone promised with a smile.

“Speaking of healing, though— now that we’re safe, let me take a look at that hand of yours.” Serella held out her own upturned palm. “I want to make sure it’s healing properly.”

Anemone gave an exasperated shake of her head, even as she placed her hand stop the Paladin’s. This time, Serella’s touch was slower, softer, her magic more meticulous. It felt cool as running water as it splashed across the skin and scales of Anemone’s hand. Where Serella’s initial healing had just been to close the wound, this was a full mending of the flesh: by the time she had finished, there was hardly a trace that aught had happened at all.

“That feels much better,” Anemone said, though made no move to take her hand away. “Thank you.”

Serella’s sigh of relief struck Anemone as odd.  

“I’m glad it didn’t scar too badly,” the Paladin said quietly, and Anemone tilted her head when she saw Serella bite her lip.

“Why? What would it have mattered?” Anemone dismissed. Serella let go of her hand. “A scar is a scar. It would not have bothered me.”

“I’m glad for that, too— wouldn’t want anyone to look at you as lesser for it.” Serella did not meet Anemone’s gaze again. “I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

Anemone paused, her hand still hovering in the space between them, even as Serella resumed checking the stew.

“Have you?” Anemone asked haltingly. Serella turned to look at her. “Been made to feel lesser for your scars?”

“…For a time.” The Paladin admitted, though Anemone was not convinced that it was so much ancient history as Serella pretended it to be. Serella untucked her hair from behind her ear to let it fall like a curtain to shield her facial scars from view and nervously smooth her hands over it, all but confirming Anemone’s suspicion. “Sooner or later, someone always comments on them. ‘A shame,’ said a friend once. ‘A waste,’ said a lover.” She shrugged a shoulder and returned to the bubbling pot over the fire. “Much like the scars they flinched at, it’s a well healed wound. I’m just sorry I put you at risk of being put through the same. I should have tried harder to protect you.”

She does not add that also much like those self same scars, though the wound had healed, the marks left behind sometimes ached if she did not have a care. No sense in pitying herself over the past, after all.

“There is no telling what we might have been able to do differently, had we the chance.” Anemone spoke up beside her.

She made a decision, then, and reached out to take Serella’s hand with her own. The Paladin looked up at her, surprised.

“Anemone…?” She asked softly.

“You are lovely no matter what anyone else says.” Anemone spoke with quiet conviction. She squeezed her hand. “The fools who claim the opposite haven’t an onze of your courage.” With her free hand, Anemone tucked the hair Serella had hidden her face with behind her long, pointed ear again. “Every scar you have is earned. You survived.”

“That…means much. Thank you, Anemone.” Serella said, and for the first time in a while when she smiled she didn’t feel the way her scars stretched her skin quite so much.

The hand not being held reached over to smooth a thumb over the apple of Anemone’s cheek. Before she could think better of it— and better of the way her heart thundered so loudly in her chest— Serella leaned down and pressed a lingering kiss to Anemone’s temple.

“Wh-why?” Anemone asked, her voice only just a breathy whisper, her cheeks faintly flushed.

“Because,” Serella answered, her voice—and her smile— just as soft. “You see me.”

48. Out of Habit

Springtime had arrived with the bloom of wildflowers along the familiar, beaten paths between Gridania and Ala Mhigo, and the air was sweet with their scent. Lying in the shade of a tall oak tree upon a bed of the yellow, purple, and pink blooms, Serella breathed deep of Nophica’s perfume and sighed in bliss. She was not far from the path— close enough that even the tallest flowers around her would not obscure her from those who walked past.

Which was well, really: Serella was waiting for someone. And judging by the way the sun hung high in the midday sky when she cracked an eye open, her anticipated companions should be along shortly. Still, no sense in wasting such a golden opportunity for relaxing, she thought as she closed her eyes and stretched her limbs out.

A move that was taken as invitation, evidently; she had not even let herself go lax again before she felt two paws press a heavy weight onto her stomach.

“Oof!” Serella laughed, greeted by the sight of Hassan’s snout when she opened her eyes. Smiling wide enough her cheeks hurt, she sat up enough to give him all the pets and scritches she hadn’t been able to give him in their time apart. The carbuncle preened under the attention, happily flopping to and fro in the flowers, chirruping all the while. “Well, here you are, boy, but where might your mistress be?” She asked him.

“Not far behind, rest assured,” Anemone spoke from somewhere behind her. “You look content.”

“I am! You should come join us!” Throwing her head back far enough to see behind her, Serella laughed again at the upside down vision of Anemone walking off the path to join her. Anemone offered her a smile in return, even as she wordlessly moved to stand directly behind her.

“I see you,” Anemone said quietly, holding out her hand.

Serella turned to kneel before her to look up at her properly, then, at the way the sunlight gently haloed her friend in a warm, gentle glow, at the way her eyes glittered even from within the shade of her rose quartz hair, at the joyful curve of her lips, and the Paladin’s smile softened. Like a knight pledging fealty to her blessed patron, Serella brought Anemone’s offered hand to her lips and pressed a reverent kiss to her knuckles.

“And I see you.” Serella said in kind.

#if it wasn't clear Serella would die for Anemone and Hassan #thank you so much for this glyph! #glyphenthusiast #Anemone #Serella #(in the event you ever wanted to rp them and Hassan/Vardr going on adventures or having fun spending time together lemme know) #(I just like the idea of them being adventuring friends and getting into some trouble together lol) #anyway I'm love them all #and I hope this brightened your day!