#so Haurchefant sesame....

[1driedpersimmon]

More Sesame squibbles

I am, as some would say, in the trenches atm

[verraising]

Thinking about Myrri and her Chocobo and that she canonically never actually had a company chocobo to begin with because she was afraid that she lacked both the know-how and the means to take care of it.

Like... she's never really looked after a large creature like this, she's always out on the road, constantly in dangerous situations... she just didn't feel like it was an ideal living situation for an animal, even if said animal was meant for adventuring life since, well... she wasn't really your average adventurer even back then.

So she's good!! She's used to walking and there's always the porters if she is in need of a Chocobo at any point temporarily, and she can do so with the knowledge at the end of the day it will be back in a warm stable with food and someone who knows how to take care of it properly.

BUT. Then comes the point where Haurchefant rolls up to her and gifts her a Chocobo and what is she supposed to do other than smile and say thank you and accept it because she sure as hell isn't gonna look him in the eye and refuse his gift. That would be rude!! And possibly make her friend sad!! And she doesn't want that, and it's not like she hates animals, not at all!

So she names it Sesame and asks Haurchefant if she can stable it at the keep for now, and she takes it out a little bit for the less dangerous errands every now and then but mostly tries to keep it away from any real danger by leaving it in the stables and spoiling it with treats and pets when she has some downtime instead.

Eventually Myrri gets an apartment in Ishgard, the city famous for how great they are with Chocobo husbandry, which makes her feel a bit less guilty for intending to leave Sesame there p much permanently from that point forward.

She's gotten really attached! And she wants him to have a nice and comfortable life!

So she hires some stablehands and promises to visit whenever she has time, and in her mind that's a good and solid plan, at least until one of the people she hired contacts her like two weeks later like "Hey uhhhh I'm really sorry but you need to come home, your Chocobo has been acting increasingly more crazy and we can't calm him down no matter what we do."

So she comes back and spends some time with Sesame before she is needed elsewhere again but a week later the whole thing repeats.

And when she comes back this time the keepers she hired are like sorry but we think your Chocobo just really loves you and just really hates to be left here without you, have you considered taking him with you?

So she decides to just. Do that. Maybe Sesame just needs a lil enrichment and once he's got his fill he will be happy to stay in his cozy lil stable after all.

And it turns out her Chocobo just REALLY wants to throw hands! He's a menace and Myrri is bamboozled that she has to make sure her cute bird buddy doesn't try to fight every squirrel they pass, and it takes her a hot second to eventually figure out that he's just really protective of her, and in his silly little bird brain everything that moves is a potential threat apparently !!!

And Myrri can't help but be reminded of who raised her Chocobo, after all, and comes to the conclusion that of course it kinda makes sense he would have a protective streak a mile long, doesn't it? :')

So she resigns to the fact that her Chocobo is going to be her permanent travel buddy now just as the gods intended, and in her free time she brushes up on her animal care skills as much as she can, and Sesame is v happy and v content.

tl;dr myrri's in-game company chocobo is canonically the black chocobo haurchefant gifted her and they are besties who care for each other very much and i have lots of thoughts about them

[fistsoflightning]

01 - oh brother

foster: affording, receiving, or sharing nurture or parental care though not related by blood or legal ties. Lumelle & Elwin, 1.8k words. Pre-Calamity.

The eldest daughter of House Lipine attempts to learn more of the lalafellin boy who might just be in need of a new home in the clumsiest way possible - by accidentally accusing him of heresy?

If Lumelle had known what sort of mess future-her would have carefully placed in her calloused hands, she would have paid more attention in the stupid etiquette and hosting classes her stuffy aunts forced her to take.

“Triselle gave me some cookies and hot chocolate to share,” she says after pushing the door to the sitting room open, mostly to fill the quiet spaces as her lalafellin ward (?) looks up at her curiously. In front of him is the journal he asked for a few days after he woke up, but Lumelle doesn’t pay it too much attention when the tray in her arms threatens to tip over instead. “I don’t think you’re allergic to sesame, since you haven’t been seriously ill at dinner yet, but these are sesame cookies. The hot chocolate should be fine, though, so. Help yourself.”

Elwin’s curious gaze sticks to her as she sets down the plate of cookies and the mugs down on the coffee table—Triselle clearly looked around for the smallest mug they had, but even the smallest cups and plates they had look ridiculous next to his tiny hands—but the moment she tries to meet it, his head is already turned away. 

She resists the urge to sigh as she sits down on the floor by the short edge of the coffee table, grabbing the thick book she brought in with her from the tray. Sylveret had said that Elwin seemed the most responsive when it was Lumelle who approached him, as if he were cowering from anyone else in the house, but she doesn’t think she’s even heard his voice outside of the short, terse conversation she had with him after he woke up the first time. 

It’s been weeks since then, and Sylveret swears up and down that he hasn’t heard so much as a peep from Elwin outside of one word responses to any question he asks. The poor man’s probably wondering if he’s doing his job all wrong.

Lumelle cracks open the heavy novel her aunt insisted she read with a huff, twirling her bookmark around in her fingers as she thinks. Honestly, Lumelle has no clue what was running through Haurchefant’s head when he decided leaving Elwin in what is technically her care was a good idea. It seemed to make sense, in the beginning—neither House Haillenarte nor Fortemps would have been willing to take in a wanderer, much less one that had already been told to scram—but at the beginning of winter? As Lumelle’s parents were leaving her and Auphine, again?

It’s a small miracle that the inquisitors haven’t already come marching up onto the manor’s doorstep looking for blood.

She hardly knows how she managed it. Lumelle’s only redeeming quality when it comes to socializing is that she doesn’t drag on conversations after growing bored of them like a polite, proper noble daughter—instead, she snaps and storms off. That, or she says something insulting enough that they leave in a huff first. Not very daughterly of her, to invite more slander onto her parents than they already receive from the other highborns by “being a brat”. Hardly knight-worthy behavior, either, but she’s heard and seen worse from some of the Temple Knights. Lumelle thinks most people would excuse her for being snippish with the endless font of people who think thinly-veiled insults towards her are hilarious.

Regardless, she knows she can’t keep this up forever. The longer Elwin stays here, the less likely it is Lumelle can cover for him; one of these days, someone’s going to wonder why the irritatingly rebellious daughter isn’t stirring up trouble anymore with the other children and come knocking at the wrong time. Even if Lumelle can keep up this charade til next summer, her parents still have no clue as to the outsider taking up their guest room. 

Hells, she can’t even tell if Elwin wants to stay here, trapped in the manor’s decorated walls as the days stretch on like taffy. Better than the Brume, or the wilderness, at any rate, but it’s not like Lumelle or Haurchefant gave him much of a choice. She’d ask, though Sylveret’s probably done so already, thankfully more adept at breaking the ice than she is...

A quiet, musical noise shakes Lumelle out from her mountain of terrible thoughts, her eyes focusing back in at the end of the page in the novel she’s only just learned the plot of (the main protagonist is caught between her devotion to her god and her feelings for some prince… gross ) as the sound grows a little louder, a little braver. A bit like humming, if Lumelle had to guess, and usually her hearing doesn’t lead her astray, so unless Triselle is in the hall humming loudly to herself, there’s only one person it could be.

Lumelle looks over at Elwin across the coffee table, past the half-empty plate of cookies and her own neglected mug of hot chocolate, eyes widening as she looks a little closer. 

Elwin’s smiling, for one, which is a pleasant surprise; he rarely smiles, but it’s not the hardest thing in the world to get him to do. Lumelle likes to think he’d smile a lot more if he wasn’t so at odds with his surroundings all the time, and that it would fit him—but that isn’t what catches her attention.

It’s his journal.

“That’s… a gun,” Lumelle says, shifting to her knees and pushing herself up from her seat to get a better look at Elwin’s journal. His quiet humming turns to a strangled eep as he drops his pencil to cover the left side of his journal, revealing—

“Is that a dragon?”

Elwin’s hands rapidly shift from covering the sketch of—yeah, that’s definitely a gun—to covering the dragon-looking scribble on the opposite page.

“...N-no?”

Lumelle looks up from the slightly incriminating page to stare him down. “Are you sure about that?”

In a fit of either anger or bravery, Elwin looks straight at her when he says, “It’s not—it just looks like a dragon!”

If it looks, roars, and bites like a dragon… Lumelle didn’t think Elwin was a heretic, but she also didn’t think he was a scholar studying the Horde. Both, frankly, would be hard to shelter anyways, but one potential blow to Lumelle’s proverbial kneecaps at a time. “Then what the hells is it?”

“It’s a machine! I—I like designing things and, um, I thought a dragon automaton might… be cool…? I came up with the idea before I got to Ishgard, I swear, but I lost my old notebook when the scary people found me in the wagon and I just…” Elwin shrinks in on himself, determined expression giving way to a frown. “I wanted to remake it.”

Whatever Lumelle had just opened her mouth to say dies right there on her tongue at the earnest tone of Elwin’s declaration.

“Oh,” she says, like a fool. It… made sense. More so than him being a heretic when he’s smaller than a sack of popotoes. Lumelle knows one engineer already with more smarts than wits about them to know when to stop—and Elwin doesn’t seem to even be from Eorzea itself. She had to explain so much about Ishgard in the first few days that she thought her throat would kill her. Leave it to her to assume the worst, even if her not-quite-ward is a handful.

She’s still trying to wrap her head around the whole ‘remaking entire blueprints by memory’ thing, though, when Elwin shifts in his seat, hands clasped together in his lap.

“‘m sorry,” he mumbles. “Please don’t throw me out into the snow.”

Lumelle blinks. “Throw you out into the—what?”

Elwin gives her a curious look “The other elezen did the same after they took my things and looked at them.”

“Well, that’s because they’re a bunch of stuffy pricks,” she mutters. Maybe that was why he was always cowering away from Sylveret and Triselle, with his first impression of Ishgardians being the damn inquisitors with less brains than Lumelle’s draught chocobo hatchling. “I’m not about to throw you to the wolves for a conclusion I jumped to. I promised that the manor was your home for as long as you needed—but you need to be careful with that, yeah? Otherwise, both of us will probably be declared heretics.”

Elwin nods, keeping his head bowed as if waiting for Lumelle to dismiss him, or something. There’s no trace of the quiet smile or determination he had earlier left, a leaden feeling seeping into Lumelle’s bones as she realizes how she must look to him, all up in arms about a stupid drawing of a machine. He’d been comfortable up until Lumelle decided to ruin it.

Another stupid mistake to tack onto her record. But maybe she can still salvage this one?

“A dragon automaton… does sound a little cool,” she says awkwardly, even if she doesn’t fully believe it. She’ll make herself believe in the idea of a metal dragon if it makes Elwin smile again; he deserves that much faith from her. “Any chance you could tell me more?”

His head lifts back up, still terribly hesitant but hopeful. “But, your book…”

“Eh,” she says, dropping the book onto the floor by the table. She’ll have to stay up late one or two nights to finish it before Aunt Ystride comes by to check in on her and ask about her thoughts (carefully practiced and patched with a few white lies, because Halone have mercy this novel is mind-numbing), but Lumelle thinks listening to Elwin and his bright voice is worth a little lost sleep. “I wasn’t all that invested in it.”

“You’d rather listen to me talk? About a dragon?”

“Hey, you said it was an automaton first,” she grumbles. “And I know an engineer. He likes to force people to listen to him so he can work out his thoughts verbally without sounding like a madman. I can at least do that for you.”

For a moment, Elwin hesitates, and Lumelle thinks he’d rather not empty his brain out to someone who already reacted poorly to his ideas, but he gets up, walks over, and sits back down besides her, journal held carefully between his hands.

“I don’t know how much you’ll understand,” he says, voice full of barely restrained excitement. She probably wouldn’t understand a lick of it, since the closest she’s gotten to a forge was to look at swords, but she also wouldn’t let that stop her from trying to wrap her head around it. “Stop me when you get bored, yeah?”

Lumelle smiles. It doesn’t feel anywhere near as gentle or kind as she wants it to be, but it’s a start. “Trust me when I say I don’t think I could be bored with you around.”

[1driedpersimmon]

Sesame doodles… comic edition.. (Also Sesamito bug… he is outside, what will he do…)

[1driedpersimmon]

Scus the //blood I was having feeling and decided the best solution was to dump Sesame in blood

And also Hauchie sweeping him off his feet because oh no

(And Sesame charm for myself hehe, maybe)

[1driedpersimmon]

I love ur artstyle and Sesame so much do you think he has two hands in DSR / canon noncompliant timeline.

I'm inhaling all the Sidsame(?) and Sesafant(???) there is like a Hoover vacuum I would love to see more of both

Ouuhh thank you 🥺🥺 I'm glad you like him..

Mmmm idk what DSR is yet but I like to think yeah in like a au where Haurchefant lives (😔✊️) Sesame would probably have something with both him and Siddy heh

But Canon wise Sid is Sesame's like.. rebound LAMKDJFJFJJDJFJFJ (they'll figure it out eventually GEHHSGAHAHAHA)

(And I'm totally drawing more of them 🥺💞)

(Also I saw your other ask, no worries!!)