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praesidioest · 6 years

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kiss + 5 & 15.

SEND ‘KISS’ + A NUMBER TO KISS MY MUSE…

…before going to sleep.

…because you missed them.

@vardr ║ accepting ! [ and not to be continued!]

World War 2 AU, BECAUSE REASONS

The nurse lays a hand on his shoulder, feather-light, like she’s trying not to be obtrusive. The fact is, he’s the one impinging upon their space, resting like a wraith in the corner of the infirmary, where Zack lays in some sempiternal slumber from which Gladio waits for him to wake.

Gladio hadn’t left his side since he’d found him in the basement of that castle, half dead with whatever ungodly experimentation they’d done on him. He could still remember the dullness in those eyes that had been nearly incandescent in his memory of his best friend, how hollow they looked as they blinked up at him when he lifted his body from that worn cot.

Did he recognize him then? Does he recognize him now? Zack had yet to speak a word to affirm. It was enough that he woke for the few hours a day that he did, long enough to sallow down some tasteless gruel and a paper cup of vitamins Gladio was sure was doing fuckall. Not that he’d been doing much better.

Gladio stares helplessly at the half-parted lips that he can still remember whispering his name, that last time he’d dropped Zack off on his stoop, stealing a kiss he knew would be his last (and only), before he snuck off like a thief to do his part with the war effort. He’d turned away, then, too scared to see the sure rejection illuminated by moonlight, and left without a proper goodbye.

That same terror seizes him now, even as Zack lay sleeping in his bed, hands at his side above the perfect arrangement of his thin covers. He wishes he had the gall, but he doesn’t. Not to take something twice that never belonged to him. No matter how desperately he wants to.

Gladio entwines his callous fingers within his, staring at the constellation of scars that adorn his knuckles. They’re more obvious at certain angles against the firelight, when the amber glow illuminates every ridge and hollow, and Gladio counts with compulsive disconcert each errant wound by pressing his lips fervently to them. He curses every weapon, every man that had a hand in marring the beauty of those hands, who he can remember from more halcyon days, when they were as soft and smooth from the luxury of disuse, when the worst hardship they’d known was the grip of a pen to crawl out arithmetic homework.

He kisses each scar in a methodical ecliptic, until his lips taste of his skin and salt and an indescribable, palliative scent that has the curious effect of slowly recovering the rift in his riven heart.

It’s a bittersweet farewell, one he repeats like a tortured samsara every night before he leaves him for his own bed. A ritual that grants him less conciliation than it should, for how deeply it wounds him. But still he does it, believing in its influence. Because it’s the only hope he has left. Because all he needs is for Zack to return to him.

#vardr #meme reply #I LIED #I went with war #I LOVE? ZACK FAIR?#PLEASE?#also forgive me #sometimes i write present tense for memes #BUT IM RUSTY AT IT #I HOPE!!!#U FEEL BETTER!!!#me: my shitty contribution #longpost #jesus im SO SORRY THIS IS LONG #I DONT MEAN IT TO BE #v: ░ ˢᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵒʷᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ˢᵒ ᵐᵃᶰʸ ᵗᵒ ˢᵒ ᶠᵉʷ ║ world war 2 ( zack. ) ║

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lightnull · 6 years

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@vardr

❝ —— She’s not here, ❞ unfair, perhaps, making an assumption as to why he has come here, but there are only so many options, aren’t there? For all intents and purposes, there is one woman who resides here. She is a haunting ghost; a hanger on. ❝ I think she’ll be back soon, though. ❞

#vardr #( ❛ ┈ ★ existence ) they say a heart is a heavy burden.#[ love me love me saAAAYYYY THAT YOU LOVE ME ]

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notadelisii · 3 years

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Hepiniz mutsuzsanız Instaya eğlenceli story atan kim

#bunu birinin demesi lazımdı #şaka bu arada gidin gülün azcık #böyle yazı da vardr

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starswornoaths · 5 years

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💏? (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!

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adaistenapim · 2 years

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Herkes herkese iyi gelebilr ama Herkes bir insanın kalbindeki o kalıcı hasarı onaramaz

O kalbi tanıyan birileri vardr çünkü

He eğer yoksa da o kalbi tanıyan tek kişi insanın kendisidir o kendini onarabilir, iyileştirebilir ve bir süre sonra anlaşılr ki insanı sadece kendisi anlar

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pacificaq · 2 years

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Bi çocuk telefonla oynuyom die sen çok gexion instada popüler birisin he çok takipçin vardr senin bana istek at benimde artsın olr mu fln yapmıştı baya anlamsızdı acındırıyo gibiydi kendini garipti nese bende geçiştirmiştim çocuğu o an konuyu değiştirip sonra bana istek attı 670 takipçisi var benim 110

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the-shiniest-plant · 3 years

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Here comes the boiiiii~!

Hello, boi~!

Welcome~! 💚

There he is~!

He is here~!

Y’all, meet Golemancer Iann! He’s Vledda’s son, and my future Machinist. I’ve spent like $20 on him already and I’m going to spend so much more getting this lil progeny just right, just you watch.

(Oddly enough Alastair’s boyfriend provided the needed genetic material that Vledda herself could not. So technically he’s also Gribblix’s son, but Iann calls him Uncle. Vardr is “Dad”.)

Due to time-space shenanigans, at this point, Iann is about 10 years old, already Genius-level when it comes to Golemancy, and was technically born on 36 Colossus 1339 but as I said, time-space shenanigans, so he’s here now.

I’ve yet to determine his overall profile, but once I do, I’ll be sure to post it. All I know so far is him is good at robits, and him like green. That’s it. More to come.

#Golemancer Iann #gw2 asura #gw2 engineer #gw2 machinist #gw2 #guild wars 2 #babey boi #a good son #gw2 ocs

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acid-gramma · 2 years

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Sebep vardr aq az önce anon söyledi ya sebep sonuç diye sİFMAŞFMAŞFMA canın mı istedi

Benim asıl merak ettiğim kesin bir şekilde hayır derken ilk eline aldığında suçlu hissedebilirsin içten içe kendine saygısızlık gibi düşündün mü 17 yaşındaki nejla dehşete düşerdi

hayir dusunmedim kendime saygimdan ictim :d yirmi kere falan anlattim hikayeyi bu arada her konusu acildiginda israrla soruluyor, okudugum bir kitap tetikledi sigaraya baslamami

can istemesi de bir sebeptir bu arada bazen canimiz cektigi icin cikolata yeriz bazen canimiz istedigi icin hava almaya cikariz vs vs

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lingos-blog · 4 years

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Ff verir misin?

@muzlukekk @moruseven1adam @uzaydakibirisstuff @merkurkediisiii @bihterzelihagil @gloomysymphonies @ben-hala-sever-gibi @sudeolojii @yemekyiyom1sn @ashleymiss @allahsizbugra @vallakusurabakmanne @belkibirihtimals @burcuuium @jumbopakize @tuzlucikolataa @neyazsamacabaa @beyna-07 @muzeidon @shawtyw @ihsawq @ichmochtesterben @zelisinharikalardiyarii @ruhumkilokaybediyor @tuhafliklarulkesinden

Hepsni sevyrm bide unttklrm kesn vardr biraz eksik yazmş olblrm ksra bakmyn bu kdr tşk

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nazrina · 3 years

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1. Əgər insan həddindən artıq çox gülürsə, hətta mənasz şeylərə belə gülrsə, o insan içində tənhadr.

2. Əgər çox yatrsa qəmlidir.

3. Əgər az və sürətli danşrsa sirr saxlayr.

4. Əgər ağlaya bilmrsə demək ki zəif biridir.

5. Əgər normadan artıq yeyirsə gərgin biridr.

6. Ən kiçik hadisələrə görə ağlayrsa günahsz və ürəyi yumuşaqdr.

7. Əgər kiçik və eyni zamanda mənasz şeylərə əsəbləşrsə o insanın qayğya ehtiyacı vardr.

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starswornoaths · 3 years

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Prompt 1: Foster

The polycule finds themselves in the company of a stray kitten that Estinien fetched from a back alley from who-knows-where.

And they're going to rehome her. No, really, honest. They're not keeping her, or anything lol

Word count: 1,900

~*~

A rare rainy day off in Ishgard— on a rarer day off, no less— had left Serella happily cuddled up in bed, under the blankets. Joined by her betrothed, and their beloved Violet, what time wasn’t spent idly dozing, was a warm, floating haze of hands and lips brushing idly where they found skin. Though they were swathed in the overcast, pale light that spilled in through the curtains, its chill was far from them, the roaring hearth, gilding the gloom where it collided, its warmth reaching beyond its light. The perfect picture of coziness.

Which was why she was particularly miffed, when their dearest Estinien stumbled in through the door, soaked to the bone, and holding his bundled up jacket to his chest: it meant that she had to get up, to investigate.

As Estinien caught his breath from sprinting in the pouring rain, his paramours all collectively, if sluggishly, opted to disentangle themselves from the blankets enough to see what on earth had made him bluster in so.

Aymeric was the first to rise from their little nest of blankets, ambling over gamely. Serella wasn’t far behind, though stilled when she heard him melt over whatever it was that Estinien had bundled into his coat.

An animal, then.

Sure enough, she neared just in time for Aymeric to reach a hand out, and be met with a sooty paw reaching up to curl its little bean toes around his index finger. He cooed again, and his posture melted further toward the bundle—ah, it was a cat, then.

“Hello, little love,” Aymeric greeted, his voice turned sing-song, and pitched a few notes higher, as it always did when he greeted an animal.

Already, Serella knew this was trouble.

All the more, when Hyana gasped as she scrambled to free herself from bed fully, hissing and cursing as a blanket stuck stubbornly to the pointed ridges at the end of her tail. Freeing herself, she stumbled over eagerly, completely blowing past Serella as she did.

After giving the two of them a few more moments to coo, she and Estinien passed a look between them, and silently agreed that it was time to be the responsible ones. For a change.

“Alright, alright, what do we have here, then?” Serella called, gently nudging them away to give the little creature some breathing room.

“Creature” almost seemed an apt description for the cat nestled within Estinien’s coat: covered in rain water and mud, it was almost impossible to tell what the cat’s true fur color was. It trembled, even pressed against Estinien’s chest—must still be cold. Those large eyes squinted up at her, as the little kitten sniffed and sneezed at her proffered hand. The cat’s shivering made its purr sound tinny, like it rattled the poor thing’s lungs just to do it.

“A bath first, before we do anything else, I think.” She said aloud.

With a breath to steel herself, Serella accepted the bundle of cat and coat in her arms, when Estinien relented to her. Despite the shivering, and the wetness of its fur, the kitten felt warm against her chest, when it immediately snuggled up to her body warmth. Reminding herself that they already had two dogs and a cat—two cats, technically, if she counted Duchess back at Borel Manor—Serella rounded the corner out of their bedroom, and into the bathroom.

Her polycule trailed in on her heels. It was hard not to liken them to a gaggle of Scholasticate kids, all crowding around the door to watch. It warmed her, how even the most standoffish of her loves couldn’t resist the draw of a cute animal.

The bathtub would be too massive, for the little kit—the sink suited just fine. Hyana was kind enough to fetch their bottle of feline shampoo, and set it on the counter for her.

As she let the water run to get a bit warmer, Serella lifted the kitten, gently, to hold it—her, Serella realized, with a glance—at eye level.

“You won’t like me for this,” she warned the kitten. “But that’s alright, it’s only temporary.”

The kitten squirmed, and licked the tip of her nose. Ignoring the way her insides turned to softened butter, Serella dutifully set to work, carefully bathing the kitten.

Unsurprisingly, the water was, at first, most unwelcome, and the cat had no scruples with voicing her complaint and trying to clamor out of the sink. For such a small thing, her wailing meows of discontent were rather loud—good. That meant her lungs were healthy. Once the warmth of the water sunk into her skin, however, she relented, somewhat, though instead sat in the shallow, warm water, and vibrated from the intensity of her disgruntled, rumbling meows.

It was hard not to liken her to a rat, watching her quake with the effort of vocalizing her displeasure. With each careful massage of Serella’s fingers into the kitten’s fur to wash away the grime, however, her true coat began to shine through.

As it turned out, her fur was still mostly black—save for her white capped paws, and her underbelly, all the way up to her chin. All downy soft, thin fur, in a sleek coat. Once she’d gotten a chance to dry out, under the careful ministrations of Aymeric drying her down with the softest, fluffiest towel he could find, she was actually a rather beautiful cat.

When she still shivered, as she finished drying, Aymeric would brook no negotiation, and immediately bundled himself—and her—back in bed, with the blankets. It seemed to be exactly where she wanted to be, as she promptly loafed herself upon his chest, and shook with her purrs.

“We need a name for her,” he said, not taking his eyes off the little kit, as her eyes began to drift shut.

“Absolutely not.” Serella tutted. “It isn’t responsible for us to take in another cat—here, or Borel Manor—and no, she doesn’t look ready to be a road companion, before you even entertain suggesting it.”

“Act like you don’t want to keep her.” Estinien scoffed. “You didn’t even ask me how I’d found her—you do that, when you do something I don’t like. You ask questions.”

“She’s a stray, you found her, and brought her here. What else is there to know?” Serella huffed, and even to her, she sounded a touch defensive.

“We can’t just turn her out after a bath, either, though.” Hyana argued, in the gentlest tone Serella had ever heard from her, as she snuggled up to Aymeric’s side to offer her hand to the kit. “She’ll have to stay for a while.”

“Until we can responsibly rehome her, of course.” Aymeric hastily added on, unconvincingly.

Serella wrinkled her nose when Estinien made a noise of agreement, even as the both of them also crawled in bed.

Once they had hemmed him in on all sides, Aymeric piped up, “But we have to call her something, in the meantime.”

When Estinien reached out to pet her, both of her paws shot out, to wrap around his hand. Her claws pricked at his skin, as she tried to force his hand over to her head. He snorted.

“Krile, perhaps? The little snot seems keen on getting her claws in me.” He grumbled, with no real venom behind his words; he hadn’t even taken his hand back.

Alas, he had already been lost to this kitten’s wiles, it seemed. Probably was, the moment he found her.

“I’ll tell Krile.” Hyana replied in that same, cooing voice, not even deigning to look at Estinien, as the kitten wriggled across the broad expanse of Aymeric’s chest, to bump her forehead against Hyana’s.

It was fascinating, watching how all three of them—powerful, stalwart warriors, all—had turned to puddles under the might of this singular kitten’s cuteness. Danuja, Vardr, and Rhalgr were already getting jealous, she realized, when she felt their collective, agitated curiosity on the fringes of her focus.

“Menphina,” she suggested, before she could stop herself. When all present turned to look at her, she elaborated, with a wry twist of her lips, “She’s certainly charmed all of you enough to warrant it.”

“…Menphina.” Hyana tried again, speaking it to the kit instead. At the curious mrr the cat trilled in response, Hyana nodded. “She likes it. It’s settled, then.”

When the weather improves, I’ll put up signs, she resolved to herself, just as the kitten laid her paw atop Serella’s hand, over Aymeric’s heart.

To her credit, she did. But the problems that trickled in after that came threefold: there was little demand for a beautiful runt, all the more of an indeterminable breed of cat. What demand there was, was often in the interest of Menphina being a “practice pet,” for a child. Fearful that that would translate to unsupervised children treating her like a toy, until she was injured, Serella would be the first—and firmest—to rebuke such offers. Add to all of that, the kitten’s propensity for extended bursts of high energy, that demanded that she be played with, ruled her out for any of the elderly candidates that applied, looking for a calm housecat.

To say that she had no success finding a suitable home for Menphina, would be a gross understatement.

Every time, she would come home, and Menphina would have to crawl out of the collective fur of Vardr and Rhalgr, just to trill up at her in greeting. And every time, Serella would have to scoop her up, and tell her how sorry she was, that it wasn’t meant to be, for that applicant.

“There will be others,” Serella reassured her, every time.

A few moons down the line saw Menphina still very much fostered in their care—to the point, that she was tucked close, huddled in the bend of Serella’s knees, as she’d curled up on the couch with a book. She’d fallen into a sort of pleasant lull, where her focus was on her book, though she could still pick up on Aymeric and Hyana chatting amicably in the kitchen.

At the mention of the date, in the midst of their conversation, Serella’s ear perked; she couldn’t recall the exact date, that Estinien had hauled this scrawny little kit in from the cold, but as she looked down at Menphina again, now filled out on good food and loving attention, she realized, with dismay, that she had not been strong enough.

“You were never a foster cat, were you?” She grumbled accusingly at Menphina.

The kitten looked up at the sound of her voice, and gave a questioning mrr?

As though she didn’t know what she had done. Smiling wryly, Serella gave her affectionate scritches between her ears.

“No, I suppose you never were, at that.”

Taking this as an invitation, Menphina unfurled herself with a long stretch that morphed into a yawn, and scampered up Serella’s hip, and settled in on the curve of her side, as though it was just for her.

Groaning, Serella let her head hit the back of the couch, as she finally admitted her defeat loud enough for the household to hear: “We’re keeping the cat.”

Amidst the giddy celebrating, she swore she distinctly heard the clink of coin being exchanged—they’d gone and taken bets, on how long it would take for her to crack.

Gremlins. Hellions, all of them. Hers. How she loved them, as they were—Menphina included.

#ffxivwrite2021 #ffxiv #Aymeric de Borel #Estinien Wyrmblood #Hyana Geriel #Serella Arcbane #unstoppable forces and immovable objects #featuring: catte #'I'll be the responsible one and say we're not adopting her' Serella said. like a liar.

73 notes · View notes