#baby Borels

[starlit-seadragon]

Day 25 - Perpetuity

In which the young Estelle de Borel, daughter of the Lord Speaker of the House of Lords and Lord Commander of Ishgard, and the esteemed Warrior of Light and Lady de Borel, jumps off a roof.

CW: panic attack, abandonment trauma, uhhhh adoption? Ishgard sure is A Place.

Submitting unfinished for the deadline but I would like to finish it sjdjffnfjfhf

My FFXIV Write Masterpost here.

When she was first born, Elouan had thought his baby sister perfect.

Round button nose with a single scale on the bridge, dark and wispy curls, hands so small that even his thumb was larger than her fist.

Four years later, the only thing he thought perfect about her was how perfect a brat she was.

"Estelle," he hissed in the loudest whisper he could manage, "get off the damned roof!"

Far above, his baby sister gasped. “El said a bad word! Bad El! Stel will tell Mama and Papa!”

"You're one to talk," he grumbled under his breath. He was a son of House Borel; he was not going to argue with a toddler.

"Estelle," Elouan tried again. "Please. Before you get hurt. I will come up there if I must."

He was not quite sure how he would accomplish this—he was not even sure how Estelle had managed it—but he knew that keeping his word was important, and regardless, he intended to try.

He just wished that it had not been the top of the manor that she had chosen to perch and that he were not out in the middle of the godsforsaken street, where anyone passing by could witness them.

Ere she had left, his aunt had promised to return shortly. “Not even a full bell,” she had said. She had forgotten something essential to dinner, and the trip to the Jeweled Crozier was a quick one. Elouan had acquiesced, saying he would keep an eye on Estelle, thinking it could not be very difficult. She was, after all, still so small. What mischief could a child of four get up to that a boy of twelve could not handle?

Evidently, a great deal.

She was gone in the blink of an eye. Elouan had been studying, looking into his book for but a moment. And then it was suddenly too quiet, and Estelle was gone. If not for her coat, hastily abandoned outside the manor walls, Elouan might never have known where to find her.

His sister gave no response. Was she hurt, or just ignoring him? Gritting his teeth, Elouan looked around. He had to get onto that roof.

From the corner of his eye, he saw a figure approaching, and his shoulders sagged with relief. Aunt Homura was back, and she could help him. Everything would be okay.

He did a double-take, and his blood turned to ice.

“M-mother!”

Lady de Borel stopped beside him. A leather sack hung off her shoulder.

“Elouan?” she asked, brow knit. “What are you doing outside?”

He scrambled for an answer but could find none, mouth flapping like that of a fish. He couldn’t lie to her. He wouldn’t. No matter what it cost him.

His mother looked down at the ground, gaze falling on Estelle's shed coat. Elouan froze. His mother looked upwards, towards the roof of the manor. Her mouth set into a firm line, eyes hardening. Elouan swallowed.”

This was it. This was the end. He was dead. She knew now that he could not be trusted, that he had let little Estelle run wild and put herself in danger.

“Elouan,” she began, voice flinty. “Where is your Aunt Homura?”

“Th-the Jeweled Crozier. She said... she said she'd be right back.”

“I see.”

Elouan tried to memorize the outside of the manor. He would carry the image of it with him to the Fury’s hallowed halls.

“Play along,” his mother whispered before pitching her voice loudly towards the roof. “Elouan, my light! I am so happy to see you!”

He stared at her. She nodded her head towards the roof. Confused, he replied in the same volume, “As I am you, Mother.”

A startled gasp of “Mama!” came from above.

“Have you seen your sister?” his mother asked. “I have gifts for you both, and I should so like to present them together.”

Heart sinking, Elouan looked to the ground. Was she truly going to make him admit his failure like a mummer in a play? The cruelty seemed unlike her.

Before he could answer, however, a voice rang out from the roof.

“Dum da dummm! Behol! Stel, the Azoor Dragon!” shouted Estelle. With a branch in hand, she struck a pose.

“Estelle, my star, what are you doing up there? And without your coat?”

Estelle slumped.

“Mama,” she whined, “Dragons need no coats!”

“Estelle.” Their mother’s voice was firmer now. “You know you cannot go out without a coat.”

“Stel did go with coat! Then took it off.”

Their mother paused. Irritation creased her features for but a moment, and then called, “Estelle? Pray wait there. I’ll be right up to get you.”

“Dragons need no coats!” Estelle repeated. “And dragons need no help to fly!”

She backed away from the edge.

Elouan felt his pulse gallop.

She wouldn’t.

“Estelle?” their mother called hoarsely. Frantic, she looked around for a way up.

Estelle leapt from the rooftop.

Heart in his throat, Elouan brought his hands to his mouth. He was worse than dead, he would be disowned. Everything, gone in an instant, and he would be sent back—

Miraculously, a pair of leathery blue wings sprouted from his baby sister’s back. Instead of falling, she glided gently downwards, landing in their mother’s outstretched arms. The wings detached, revealing themselves to be those of a cobalt dragonet’s.

The creature chortled. “We'll make a dragon of you yet, little one!”

Estelle squealed in delight.

“Kal Myhk,” greeted their mother with a tight smile. “Pray remember that man ages by year and not by experience. I would ask to to refrain from aiding my daughter in flight until she is much older.”

The little dragonet seemed to consider this, then looped backwards through the air.

“Far be it from me to disrespect a mother’s wishes. My apologies, Shirayume. Know that I would have let no ill befall her.”

“I know, Kal Myhk. Thank you.”

Just then, another figure approached them, bag in hand and waving brightly.

“Oh, Nami, you’re home early! Hi!”

Elouan’s aunt Homura took in the scene before her: the three Borels standing outside, the dragonet hovering nearby, Estelle’s shed coat, and the tight grip their mother held onto Estelle’s waist. The smile fell from Aunt Homura’s lips.

Flatly, and with a light blush, she said, “Oh... Estelle got onto the roof again, didn’t she.”

Their mother went so still that Elouan flinched.

“Again?” Her tone was frost incarnate. Aunt Homura withered under his mother’s countenance. Elouan couldn’t blame her.

An argument followed in quick, quiet Doman. While Elouan had been learning his mother’s native tongue, they spoke too quickly for him to follow. He caught only snippets, words that sounded like “irresponsible” and “send home.”

Dread crept over him. They really were going to send him back.

Elouan could not help himself; he ran. He ran past the front door, up the stairs, and into his room, tears falling in his wake. Upon the soft down of his bed, he wept, grieving all he was to lose. A roof over his head. A warm, dry place to sleep. Hot, regular meals. A loving mother and father. Estelle.

“Elouan?” a voice called into his—well, what would no longer be his—room. He looked up through bleary eyes.

“Lady de Borel,” he croaked. He rubbed his eyes. The tears could not be hidden, but he could at least look a little more presentable. Though it mattered little, he thought glumly. “Is your daughter well?”

His former mother looked at him strangely.

“Estelle is with Aunt Hilda.”

“Aunt Hilda is here?”

Good, he could say goodbye to her, too, then.

“Fortunately,” she answered, syllables clipped. Her features returned to that strange puzzlement. “Elouan, is something the matter?”

He could not meet her gaze. “No, my lady.”

“Then why the formality? You haven't spoken to me so since—” She stopped mid-sentence, eyes widening. Alarmed, she stared at him. “Elouan, you can't possibly think—”

“I'm sorry, my lady, for failing you. This was a happy home for me, while it lasted.” His voice broke on the last few words. He hated that weakness. Tears welled in his eyes, and he blinked them furiously away.

Lady de Borel knelt before him, voice a whisper. “Elouan... failing me in what?”

“I did not protect your trueborn daughter.”

Finally, he looked into her eyes. She met his determined stare with soft, shimmering pain.

“Elouan, my light. You have failed no one, and even had you, you would not be going anywhere. You are not going anywhere. This is your home.”

“B-but I—” He could not stop the tears. “I messed up.”

“You did nothing of the sort,” she told him as she ran a hand through his hair.

“P-papa always says I must watch out for Estelle.”

"Because you are the eldest, sweetling. Not because she has greater import. You are both our children.”

He let himself fall into her arms then and weep. She held him tightly, whispering words of comfort and rubbing small circles against his back. The thought of losing this sent him into wracking sobs all over again.

He had no idea how long they stood like that, but Elouan only knew he was happy to be home.

[britishsquidward]

Just saying random stuff here, but since Medic may like names for animals associated with physicists/mathematicians (like Archimedes), what if he named the baboon "Émile" or "Borel", after the mathematician who is associated with one of the earliest (known) uses of the "infinite monkey theorem"?

[golmorehotgirl]

They told you to get up and go to church and you stayed your ass in bed and look what you missed

[wataridori-art]

Silly little doodles

Hard to strike fear into the hearts of your enemies with a face like that

[quinn-borel]

I would like you to write a fic about Quinn taking care of her son Hauchefant.

“Remember not to have too much coffee, my lady.” the steward reminded Quinn as she was about to pour herself another cup from the carafe.  She frustratingly tapped her finger on the table as she pulled back—he was right, but she needed that extra bit of juice to get her morning started.  The previous night had been a late one as per usual, and unlike her husband, she was far from a morning person.  The steward instead offered to pour her a glass of water, which she could enjoy with her eggs and toast.  

“Thank you.” she said with a bitter smile, her tired eyes following the steward as he excused himself from the breakfast nook with the coffee carafe in hand—no longer would she be tempted to exceed her one-cup limit for the morning.  As usual, the eggs were fluffy and flavorful and the toast, crunchy to perfection, just the way she liked it.  It only took the house Borel steward a few weeks to make her breakfast the way Aymeric made it for her on days he didn’t have to attend early morning meetings.  It was quite impressive.  Though it would have been more enjoyable to share the meal with her husband, who hastily said his farewells as she was getting herself dressed.  He, too, admittedly slept in due to their elongated night.  

“Did milord eat breakfast this morning?” she called to the steward, who poked his head back into the nook,

“Unfortunately, he did not.  Though, I presume he will return ‘round the noon hour for a meal.”

“Gods, I hope so.” she sighed, “He’s been running himself ragged.”  The steward had no retort as he went back to his duties.  Quinn lost her appetite upon hearing that Aymeric, once again, skipped breakfast due to his station.  The practice was becoming all-to-common for her liking, yet it pained her to have to lecture him once more while she had the luxury of staying at home for the time being.  The lady of the house stood up from the table and abandoned her plate, leaving half a piece of toast and a quarter of her eggs to the side, a choice she would later regret.  

Quinn made her way down the main hall towards the western wing of the house.  Although she had no plans for the day involving anything outside the house, she couldn’t help but to be lost in thought as she calculated her plans for the day.

“Oh, I didn’t have tea with someone today, did I?” she muttered, “I really need to buy a planner or something to write these things down.  Oh, but then I have to go to the Crozier to find one.  It’s been snowing a lot lately, and I’d rather not take him out in the cold just to get a notebook.  Perhaps I can ask Aym to buy me one?  No, he should really be home to rest...”

Admittedly, she found herself bound to the house for the foreseeable future, especially as winter roared in with its nasty weather as it so loved to do.  While Ishgard was an eternal winter scape, when the Eorzean calendar read the beginnings of the sixth umbral moon every resident knew that it was winter winter.   She would just have to hunker down and wait it out…

…at least she wasn’t alone during the day anymore.

Five moons prior, Quinn had given birth to her and Aymeric’s son, lovingly named Haurchefant de Borel.  He was born a healthy weight with this father’s eyes and his mother’s complexion, with an infectious smile and laughter that could fill a room.  He was their pride and joy, and undoubtedly a symbol of their love.  

Opening the door to their room, Quinn felt the stress of the early morning lift from her shoulders as she heard Haurchefant babbling in his bassinet.  While he may have been the reason she was up so late the night before, Quinn was elated to see him up and about.  At least, as about as a five month old could be.

“Looks like someone is finally awake.” she giggled as she approached Haurchefant’s crib, which sat in the corner of her and Aymeric’s room while his true room was being redecorated.  The little one stared at his mother curiously for a moment before smiling and kicking his feet in excitement—at least, kicking as much as he could while swaddled in his layered onesie.  Quinn leaned over his cot, gently touching her fingertip to the tip of his nose, “Good morning, my little lord.”

Haurchefant giggled in response as he reached for his mother’s hand.  Upon grasping her finger, his other hand went to his mouth as he looked at her almost expectantly.  The hand that touched his mouth flailed a bit more before touching his mouth again.  She knew exactly what that meant.

“Is my little Haurchie hungry?” she cooed playfully, “My smart little man knows how to tell me that he is, doesn’t he?”

He nearly slapped his mouth in protest, brow furrowed as if his signal did nothing to her since there was no milk in sight.  But Quinn knew better than to make her little guy wait, immediately lifting him out of the bassinet and bringing him over to the rocking chair in the opposite corner of the room,

“I can’t wait until you’re in your own room, it’s crowded in here.” she lamented as her gaze fell to all the baby necessities littered in the once-spacious master bedroom.  But, soon he would be old enough to be in his own room…and maybe she and Aymeric could finally get some decent sleep.  

Haurchefant fussed as there was still no sign of milk, a tiny whine coming from his mouth in frustration.  How could she be so cruel?  He was hungry, and he was hungry now.  Even if he was picked up, which he loved, he still wasn’t getting anything to eat!  Impatient as he was, the babe began to fuss even louder, despite his mother sitting down and positioning herself for a comfortable feeding time for the both of them.

“Now, now…” Quinn bit her lip a bit, trying not to raise her voice as he began to whine louder.  She gently hushed him as she slid down one side of her dress, exposing her breast just before the infant had a full-on tantrum.  Bringing the babe to her bosom, Haurchefant quickly latched on to her nipple and began to nurse…as if he wasn’t fed just a few hours beforehand.  Quinn sighed and leaned back a bit, holding her son in the optimal position so that he could have his breakfast without any disruption.   

Finally, some food!

“I’m still so glad you don’t have teeth yet.” she muttered,  “…To the bottle with you when that happens.”

Of course the baby was unfazed by his mother’s promise to bottle feed him if he bit her, he was too busy focusing on his own morning routine.  The little boy had his own day ahead of him—breakfast with mom, some burping, a walk around the house, and then that dreaded tummy time…but somewhere in there, lunch! And dinner! And a snack, maybe?  It was a tight schedule, with little room to let his mother do much for herself.  Though he would certainly let her know if she was slacking in her duties.

With a yawn, Quinn sat back in her chair and did what she could to keep her eyes open.  With the vision of her son fading in an out, she used her free hand to tap her cheek in an attempt to fully wake.  She wondered if Aymeric faired the same, sitting at his desk looming over paperwork with his eyelids drooping from the lack of sleep.  She could not quite recall the last time each of them had a full night’s rest…maybe five months ago, she assumed.  

Yet even with tired eyes, the moment she looked down at her suckling babe she couldn’t help but to beam with delight.  That was her boy; her little baby boy.  Sure, he had a habit of wailing and crying at night and fussed throughout the day, but those moments were miniscule compared to the quiet moments where he bonded with his mother like so.  Or, the moments when he giggled and smiled up at his father, both sharing the same bright, blue eyes and wavy black hair.  

Quinn could still recount the moment Aymeric held their son for the first time–how he wept with joy, praising Halone for such a healthy boy and thanking his wife for giving him such a blessing.  The pair were nearly inseparable until the little one cried out for his first meal.  Of course, Aymeric would soon have to return to his duties, leaving the babe in the care of Quinn for most of the day.  But for sure, upon his return home every night after kissing his wife he would take his son into his arms once more, giving Quinn her much-needed break.

“All done?” she asked curiously as Haurchefant nuzzled his head against her, softly smacking his lips together with quite the bit of milk dribbling out of his mouth.  As per their routine, she pulled the babe up and near her shoulder, patting him on the back until the softest belch came out of him.  And then some…

“Y-yeah, you’re done.”

 “b-buhb ba…”

“I’m glad you’re full.” she giggled, pressing her lips to his cheek  before returning him to his bassinet for a moment.  

But, oh, he wouldn’t have that.  While his mother was fixing her dress back to the way it was, he was determined to get her attention once again.  A loud screech came from the bassinet as he kicked as best as he could through his swaddle, Quinn wincing slightly before she got the hint.

“Alright, alright.” she cooed as she once again lifted him up and into her arms.  He squealed with delight, his smile brightening up the room as he looked at his mother with adoration.  Quinn began to sway with him in her arms, humming softly before pressing another kiss to his forehead.

“Well come and well met, my brave little spark…” she hummed, “how long you’ve wandered, burned bright as a star…”

The babe grinned as his mother sang to him, a hand reaching up to touch her face which she allowed as she lowered her head to kiss her son once more,

“Oh, I have awaited you patiently all this time...”

And she continued to sing and sing, lulling her baby into a calming sleep until she was able to place him back into the bassinet without worry of a tantrum.  Upon her final verse, she sat herself on her bed, eyes slowly closing as she hummed,

“…for this journey’s end...is but one step forward to...tomorrow…”

And with a final note, Quinn fell back asleep.

An early morning nap between mother and child never hurt anyone.

[yasuosexual]

i was tagged by @lili-spots for a wip wednesday blog (dawg i don’t even know what day it is today) so i guess here we go! going to post this anyways even though celica looks a lot different now 💀

ofc we have my girl celica! she is a bard/white mage and she’s totally so cool since she’s married to the one and only lord commander 😎 she loves hanging out with her best friend and going to clubs in her free time!

and someone new! 🫣 mr alexandre has joined the club… isn’t he jaw dropping! haven’t decided what class i’d like for him yet. thinking some sort of mage class… maybe red mage? i feel like a lot of big brawny guys are tanks or melee dps so i want to try and do something a little different with him. i literally just took these photos today in 5 minutes so maybe ill have more of him in the future!

celly

[missazurerose]

Being dramatic out at the Last Vigil on a foggy day.

If I'm honest, I don't think I had any posing tools when I did these. I'm pretty sure I just kept going in and out of gpose trying to position them decently close together during the Endwalker caster role quests.

[kootiepatra]

Some soft nonsense that has been kicking around as an incomplete fic idea for a-g-e-s. So I decided, what if I just gpose it instead?

Keimwyda has spent a lot of her downtime helping rebuild the Firmament and mentoring at the orphanage, so the kids know her. She's still undecided as to if she ever wants kids of her own, but she does like them. In addition to her own overall demeanor, the example set for her by her guardian has instilled in her a deep conviction that adults ought to be kind to children and help them believe they have value as people.

My head canon is that a big part of the reason Aymeric fell for her was that she is unrelentingly kind to people, and doesn't treat anyone like they're below her or not worth her time. (She needs some help with boundaries, but that's another story.) This is exactly the kind of stuff that would melt him.

[rnufharose]

THEM

[theshotsheardacrossworlds]

It's been a long time since I asked for a love booster XD. May I please request for a drabble for the Just the four of us au wherein Baby Celestine is stuck in her Pumkin costume while being surrounded by love sick Papas. She tries to crawl away but gets caught and growls like a cub

"Noooooooooooooooooooo, my poor little baby girl. Let me ACHOOOOOO!" Haurchefant cooed and then sneezed at Esme, who was struggling as Aymeric also sick was getting her out of her pumpkin costume. To make sure it still fits because I had no bloody idea. I bought it when I was pregnant with her.

Now her little arm is stuck, and Haurche is just sneezed on her.

Agnes, sitting with Estinien on the loveseat in their master suite, sniggered. "Do you two need an adult?"

"Do you need Mummy?" Estinien croaked before blowing his nose.

Yes, that's right.

My husbands all have colds.

Aymeric rolled his eyes. He managed to get my little pumpkin unstuck but then she AWWWWW SHE'S REACHING FOR HAURCHE!!!! AWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!! However, Aymeric picked her up and pulled her close to him.

"Grrrr."

WAS THAT MY BABY?!?!?

Aymeric, Haurchefant, and Agnes were shocked at Esme's very little and actually quite cute display.

Estinien, on the other hand, was laughing.

"Aye, she's definitely mine."

[dongbangskies]

My love. My sweet sweet sheltered darling. Our collective feral boyfriend stabbed an immortal dragon through the skull.

Like we JUST had this conversation

Like he smashed a mega cannon.

Why are you shocked by Hiens fantastic entrance?

[starlit-seadragon]

Day 30 - Two Heads Are Better Than One

Going out with a whimper with another unfinished piece XD

Young Esha and Estelle respond to a cry for help, because that is what heroes do.

My FFXIV Write Masterpost here.

Esha was the first to hear the cry.

She stopped in the street, twitching her long ears, face a mask of concentration. Estelle, several steps ahead, realized her friend was no longer keeping pace and turned around. She bounced on her feet in an attempt to redirect her energy. Anyone else, she would have asked right away, but she had known Esha long and knew that impatient inquiry would only get her shushed. Esha would tell when she was ready.

Several long moments later, Esha met Estelle's eyes.

"Do you hear that, Stel?" she asked.

Estelle indulgently strained her ears. With her long, Miqo'te ears, Esha could hear sounds a great deal farther off. Estelle, with her mixed Auri-Elezen heritage, did far better with environments conducive to vibrations.

She was surprised that she did hear something, though.

Far off, a distant and frightened "kweh" floated on the wind.

Estelle's brow furrowed. She and Esha nodded at each other. Without a word, they took off towards the sound.

[wyrmswyrds]

theyre MARRIED ur honor,

[self-chromtempt]

Happy Father’s day to Aymeric 

[the-rogue-mockingjay]

It's 6am and I haven't slept yet but it was 100% worth it for this shot 🙌

[quinn-borel]

❝ come in here where it’s dry! ❞ for the story prompt thing?

-Modern AU-

She was wrapped up all comfy cozy in her bathrobe, her hot chai soothing her and reminding her of her childhood.  While she never had the company of a parent, she still played out in the leaves once fall came around the corner, even if it was rare to have a cool day where she came from.  But there were no shortage of those days in Coerthas, autumn arrived once more with its cool embrace as the leaves changed into their bright, colorful display.  Though it wasn’t her first fall in Coerthas, it was their first fall with Haurchefant.

Quinn watched from the living room window as Aymeric raked up the leaves in the front yard, their son watching curiously as he did so.  After a few moments of raking, Aymeric approached little Haurchefant and lifted him up high into the air–Quinn watched as the little boy wiggled in delight underneath his coat.  A smile pulled at her lips as she brought her mug to her mouth–still too hot, but the cinnamon and clove scent was soothing.

“You wanna jump in the leaves, buddy?” he asked his son, whose smile was nearly as bright as his mother’s.  The little boy wiggled again with a squeal of delight–still too young to speak actual words, but he was certainly a verbal one.  Quinn could hear her son babbling at her husband as he walked him over to the freshly raked pile of leaves.  She took a sip of her tea as Aymeric gently took hold of their baby and counted to three.  Upon three, he lifted the boy into the air then sat him down in the pile–both began to laugh, Haurchefant immediately grabbing at every leaf he could touch and trying to put them in his mouth.  Aymeric panicked slightly, knowing well that Quinn was watching them as he was trying to keep any stray foliage from getting in the little guy’s stomach.

Quinn chuckled softly as she opened the bay window, “I think he’s hungry, love.”

Aymeric quickly picked up their son and made his way towards the window, “Yeah, and I…didn’t realize how wet the leaves were.  He’s a little damp now.”

Haurchefant gazed at his mother with his big, blue eyes and simply giggled before “mama” came out of his mouth.  Quinn grinned with delight before she sat her tea down and opened the window further,

“Come in here where it’s dry, Haurchie.” she said as she reached for him through the window.  

“Oh? You hear that buddy?  Mommy wants you.” Aymeric said to little Haurchefant before hoisting him up and into Quinn’s grasp.  The child wiggled once more, happy to see his mother but began to whine when Aymeric became out of reach.  

“Seems like he wants both of us.” Aymeric deduced by how his son looked at him as if he would never see his father again.  Quinn gently bounced the baby in her arms,

“How about you come in too, hmm?” she urged him, “I made some chai just a little bit ago.”

“Sounds lovely, dear.  I’ll put the rake up and be right in.”