katesotherpage

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💔

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seeing so many people who haven’t been here for a while . we’re all family and will always be . what we got to experience is rare and precious . hope time will allow us to look back at it with joy and peace again . hugging all of you tight

[katesotherpage]

🥺 17/10/24

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I keep coming on Tumblr to refresh and I see my old 1D friends returning to grieve together by reblogging posts from each other.

Just like we did in years gone by when there were leaks and PR bullshit. And fun things.

We came together in the good, and it’s comforting that we’re together in the bad.

We are in this together. With our boys.

Forever. 1D.

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Liam talking about his tattoo. +

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if anyone is having a bad day, this website streams One Direction songs 24/7. Love you!

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I keep thinking about that time a fan asked Stephen Hawking about Zayn leaving the band and how he said there are infinite parallel universes and that in at least one, Zayn would still be in One Direction.

The thought that there are infinite parallel universes is comforting to me right now.

[katesotherpage]

I feel so fucking lucky to have been shaped into the person I am today by One Direction. 2024 me does not exist as I am today, without them. How lucky am I to have be changed by them. I’m here today on this tumblr, with all of you- friends, mutuals, strangers- because of them. One Direction will always be woven into the fabric of my memories, experiences and dreams. That is a truth that cannot change. I am so so lucky to have loved them and be loved by so many of you because of them. Wow.

[katesotherpage]

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fictional men who have the “it’s okay to murder people but it’s never okay to disrespect women” energy>>>>>>>>

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A Court of Mist and Fury Page Overlays

Artist: @/gonzalom.art for @fairyanddragonprints

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The Archeron Sisters (source)

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Rhys and Feyre - A Court of Thorns and Roses

Artist: @_lisippa

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acotar things i can’t wait to learn more about (in no particular order)

Eris’ version of events between himself and Mor 

Balthazar, aka Feyre Cursebreaker would not forgive me for killing her sister

Rhys’ last name 

More creepy monsters / natural fauna / honestly I just miss the Suriel 

Has Elain just suddenly stopped being a seer?? Surely this bothers the other courts? 

how Amren trained Rhys to master his powers

How Azriel’s shadows work like are they born of him, do they lend themselves to him like ‘this one once came from a tree but this one was from the deep waters of a distance ocean’ 

Helion and the lengths he might go to for Lucian, for Lady Autumn 

Feyre’s mastery of all of the High Court powers - surely we can go deeper 

What exactly are Mor’s powers??? She rides horses and swings blades and winnows and says truthful things, did I miss something other than Mor is who I call in after Cassian and Azriel are dead 

Speaking of Azriel more of him please I’ll take anything  I feel like he’s totally my type /shameless 

Nuala and Cerridwen / any other personal assistants / spies of the Night Court 

[katesotherpage]

“You were born on the longest night of the year.” His fingers again stroked down my back. Lower. “You were meant to be at my side from the very beginning.” 🌙✨

insta : 🎨 emmerson_lrt

[katesotherpage]

Just a short ficlet of Nyx practicing some intricacies of flying under Rhys and Feyre’s watchful eyes. Best read with some festive energy 🎄✨ Note: ~1000 words. For @the-lonelybarricade, as her @acotargiftexchange secret santa :) T’was me leaving you obnoxiously long winded questions in your ask! And I finished early! Mwahaha. It was initially just meant to be the image, but I wanted to spin a scene that explained why Feyre wasn’t there. Happy holidays, I hope you like it <3

Falling

That’s what it looked like.

That’s what it felt like, when Nyx first began learning how to fly.

Feyre’s heart seized in her throat, her fingers clenching around the echo of the little hands that were no longer seeking her grasp, but instead were clutching for the stars as he fell, again.

His bruises and scrapes barely manifested before they were whisked away again, but no doubt it was their phantom sting that still brought tears to her little boy’s eyes. His flying lessons were already progressing much better than hers had, oh so long ago. He had been a natural at it, as per his Illyrian heritage, except when he pushed himself to do things that his little body hadn’t caught up to being just yet - such as strong enough to perform hard banking.

Steely determination shone from his face as he fluttered to the ground. “Again.”

Rhys turned his head towards Feyre, his smile a mix of pride for their child and reassurance for her, as he positioned himself next to Nyx.

“Now, tell me what you’re going to do differently this time.”

“I’m not going to fight the wind,” came the immediate reply. “I’m going to lean into it, gather it, and then when I need to turn, I’m going to slip below it, use the momentum to carry me through.”

“And?”

“Arms together knees together, feet pointed and head up so I don’t catch my toes or my chin.”

Rhys nodded once, and inclined his head over the cliff.

Feyre felt her hands clenching again as Nyx fixed his eyes on the horizon and shifted his lean young body into position. His lithe frame was already corded with the beginnings of solid muscle, which he stretched and twisted as he readied himself. He pushed himself two steps into a run, before the ground fell away and his next step hurled himself off the edge.

Rhys, arms folded, just watched him for a moment as he wheeled and flapped, feeling out the wind and sky, gathering momentum.

“He’s magnificent,” he said softly, the picture of fatherly pride.

“No more for tonight,” Feyre insisted behind him. Rhys looked over to her again, his eyes a reflection of the night sky behind him.

“He’s doing well.”

”No more practicing ,” Feyre clarified.

“I could barely stand the sight of your bruises when you came back from your flying sessions,” he grinned. “You would’ve smacked the sense out of me if I said anything to stop you.”

“This is different,” she insisted, coming to stand by him. They watched their son loop and glide through the night, his hair streaming behind him, joy and freedom emanating from every line in his body, his membranous wings stretched out wide to catch the chill night breeze.

Feyre felt Rhy’s hand smoothing down her neck, and she leaned into the warm kiss he pressed into her temple.

“Last one,” he agreed.

“Mor wants us back for pudding.”

“Mor needs to stop sleeping over after Christmas dinner if all she does is complain about what we do afterwards.”

“She doesn’t know what we like to do afterwards.” Feyre’s smile turned wicked. Rhys barked a laugh, his hand smoothing a warm line down her back to settle around her waist, pulling her in towards him.

“Have I told you today that I love you so, mate of mine?”

Feyre rose onto her toes and pressed her smile into Rhys’ neck, breathing him in, savouring the warmth of him, of having her family all around her.

“Dad! I’m ready!”

Rhys squeezed her hand before stepping away, shooting straight up into the skies.

Feyre wrapped her arms around herself as she watched him join Nyx in the sky, and walked over closer to the cliff’s howling edge as the two males lined themselves up.

Indeed the reason she wasn’t up there herself was that she had stuffed herself a little too full during the uproariously festive dinner - which only seemed to become more chaotic by the year - and it served as a good enough excuse when all she really wanted was to be in the best position to shield Nyx if he made the wrong move.

Nyx seemed so small, a tiny body suspended in the night sky as he waited for his father to join him.

He waited for Rhys’ nod before stilling himself, his wings cocooning around his body as he began plummeting to the ground.

His wings snapped open before he dropped too far out of sight, each wingtip straining away from his body as he fought to gather his momentum beneath him, funnelling the wind to torpedo towards the cliff face, his form as perfect as how he had recited it.

Feyre’s fingertips trembled as she gathered her magic, poised to shield him.

Closer closer closer, the ghost of a wind stirred Feyre’s hair as she got ready to shield, and then -

Nyx wheeled like a bird, his clenched teeth the only tell as he grazed the cliff face close enough to send smaller rocks tumbling, his body arcing to the side with the hard turn as he angled away from and then back down along the solid wall in front of him, chin held high as he dropped headfirst, his front almost flush with the rock wall as he swooped towards the ground, before peeling himself back away from it and levelling out back into the air.

Rhys cheered for his son, his whoops echoing through the night, his wings out in an easy glide as Nyx soared back up again, his fists out in victory.

“I did it!” he shouted. “Mom I did it!”

Feyre waved and smiled at her son, thinking of the many bruises and broken noses he had suffered to get to this point. She dreaded the day Nyx was old enough to go head to head with Cassian. Azriel knew better, but she knew even then it would be only a matter of time before Nyx cajoled the spymaster to tangle with him as well. The boy was voracious, and wanted to do it all.

Rhys touched down first, leaving Nyx to shout and somersault his success through the air alone.

Feyre leaned back into her mate, and Rhys welcomed her touch by enveloping her in a hug, his arms banding around her. With her back pressed along him, they both were content to watch their son careen joyously through the sky. Even the stars seemed to shine brighter.

“Merry Christmas,” Rhys murmured.

She smiled up at him. At the wonders they had created together. “And to you. May they all be merry.”

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Cassian to Nesta at literally all times: