kaviary-blog

[kaviary-blog]

IT IS KAILI’S BIRTHDAY

I didn’t draw anything in preparation cause I’m a bad mom but here’s a doodle of her outfit for her Valentines Date!

Zoom in under the cut!

[kaviary-blog]

Five Types of Living Weapon Whumpees

The guard dog -> loyalty has been ingrained into their bones, following their handler around like their shadow. No one dares stand against the organization because of the legendary dread surrounding this living weapon. They hardly say a word but every movement is calculated, eyes always darting, always watching. (“You always were their lapdog.”)

The loose cannon -> dangerous for both sides. Always talking back and never predictable, their value is dependent on their skill. If it wasn’t for that, they’d be dead a long time ago. Their loyalty is earned, not bought. No one wants to be on their bad side, walking on tip toe whenever they show up. And they enjoy it. (“What’s everyone looking at? Aren’t you happy to see me? I even brought my rifle!”)

The broken down -> most common type of whumpee I’ve seen. They’ve been overpowered and forced into the commission. They hate their handler more than anything else but see no way out. When they’re told to shoot, they don’t even blink. It’s always “yes, sir” this and “yes, sir” that. If they feel any sympathy, they don’t show it. They’ll do anything to avoid punishment and flinch at quick movements. Nothing they face on the field is worse than the cards they’ve been dealt. (“I understand, sir/ ma’am. I-I’m sorry.”)

The dissenter -> Usually recruited into the organization or joined as a last ditch option. Not necessarily against using their abilities or skill, they just hate being told what to do. As time goes on and their disobedience is punished over and over again, they grow reluctant. Bitter. With every order, they slip in a snarky comment. Roll their eyes. Anything to assert their own identity. Or what’s left of it. (“ah ah ah, you didn’t think i’d notice? The middle finger was a bit much. I’m afraid it will have to go.”)

The ghost in the machine -> known only by their codename by outsiders and by their number in the organization, they’ve been stripped of all humanity. They live, breathe, and think by their handlers orders. They’ve been told over and over again that they are just a weapon. And a weapon does what it’s told. Their anonymity is attached to the organization in the same way a gun is simply an extension of their arm. But at night they still stare up at the ceiling with a blank stare— did they ever a life before this? They can’t remember. (“It’s not like it’s a person. It doesn’t have feelings like that.”)

[kaviary-blog]

Garreth has the Zoomies

A scene from this fic, and probably the only "fluff" piece I have actually posted

Close ups under the cut because I put way too much effort into some of these details for them to go unappreciated, lmao

@ellivenollivander and @cuffmeinblack please don't hurt me too bad <3 (I already got bonked today)

[kaviary-blog]

Frothing at the mouth. Gotta go read this to the herd

I have had a silly idea I wanted to give you!!

Gremlin MC trying to assimilate into a herd of Mooncalves (or something similar)

May or may not be inspired by real like results 👀👀😂😂

(You don’t have to do anything with this, but I thought it was funny cause some progress has been made on my quest to become one of the alpacas)

KAVI, MY LOVE.

My alpaca.

First, congratulations.

Second - oh, no, we are writing this. Now.

The gremlin has assimilated in honor of your great success.

I hope you enjoy your girl making her own progress with some hooved bastards.

Thank you for the laughs writing this, too. Maybe this will be good storytime to share with your new, fluffy kin?

ANYWAY.

Word count ~2700

Mooncalf Diplomacy

Sebastian was no stranger to her peculiar brand of problem-solving, particularly when it came to anything involving magical creatures. She had always been a bit feral about it, treating beasts with the same no-nonsense practicality she approached people with. They either trusted her, or they learned to.

Which was why he wasn’t entirely surprised to find her in the middle of a Mooncalf clearing just before dawn, crouched low, mimicking their movements with an alarming degree of commitment.

What did surprise him, however, was why she was doing it.

He leaned against a nearby tree, watching as she shuffled sideways in a slow, deliberate step, head tilting in uncanny sync with the herd.

He cleared his throat. "Dare I ask?"

Not taking her eyes off the Mooncalves, she raised a hand in a clear signal for silence. Sebastian did not obey and arched a brow, amused.

"Ah…" He said, nodding sagely. "A deeply sensitive diplomatic mission, then?"

Still, she said nothing.

The Mooncalves blinked their large, glassy eyes at her, one giving a slow, hesitant turn in her direction. Sebastian, ever patient, waited.

Finally, she exhaled slowly, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. "I need their dung."

There was a long pause.

Sebastian blinked. "I - I beg your pardon?"

She straightened slightly, still keeping her movements ginger.

"Poppy told me that fresh Mooncalf dung, when collected before sunrise, is one of the best natural enhancers for magical plant growth." She explained, as if she were discussing something perfectly ordinary. "If I can get them comfortable with me, I can collect enough to keep my plants thriving for months - and thus, my Herbology grade will be the best this school has ever seen."

Sebastian stared at her.

Then at the Mooncalves.

Then back at her.

"So let me get this straight." He said slowly. "You are currently waking up at an ungodly hour, moving like some sort of demented herbologist ghoul, all in an attempt to… fertilize your potting table?"

She gave him a pointed look.

"Yes, Sebastian." She said dryly. "I’m infiltrating their ranks so I can steal their poop."

Sebastian pressed a fist against his mouth, shaking with barely-contained laughter.

She scowled. "Don’t laugh."

Sebastian, still fighting the losing battle against his amusement, grinned at her.

"I would never." He said, voice betraying him. "It's brilliant. Really."

Returning her attention to the herd, she did her utmost to ignore his barely restrained cackling. Sebastian watched, thoroughly entertained, as she mirrored their subtle movements.

A moment of silence passed.

Then, one of the Mooncalves took a hesitant step toward her.

Sebastian lifted his brows. "Well, I’ll be damned. You might actually pull this off."

"I always pull things off, Saebastian." She murmured, pleased.

Sebastian, watching her with something both deeply amused and oddly admiring, hummed in agreement.

"Astonishing." He murmured, voice low and teasing. "You truly are a woman of many talents."

She side-eyed him. "You’re thinking about something inappropriate, aren’t you?"

Sebastian grinned.

"Always."

Sebastian had spent the better part of their companionship watching this bizarre little witch throw herself into various absurdities with the same level of commitment one might expect from a particularly determined dog. He’d known her to bow down to a charging Graphorn, coax Bowtruckles out of trees with ease, and once successfully negotiate with a particularly moody Diricawl to retrieve her missing sock.

Still, this - watching her stalk, study, and attempt to fully assimilate into a herd of Mooncalves - was new.

And, frankly, he was enjoying every second of it.

Standing at a comfortable distance from the clearing, arms crossed over his chest, Sebastian watched in bemused fascination as she moved with care, mirroring the herd with ludicrous precision. She was hunched ever so slightly, shoulders loose, head tilted at the exact same angle as the nearest Mooncalf, her steps measured and slow.

To his utter amazement, it was working.

The Mooncalves, typically skittish around newcomers, weren’t bolting. One of them had even inched forward, staring at her with its wide-eyed gaze.

Sebastian had half a mind to stay quiet and let her have this victory - but that simply wasn’t who he was.

“Not bad.” He mused, keeping his voice just above a whisper. “It’s almost like you belong.”

“I do belong.” She replied, determined, her gaze never leaving the Mooncalves. “And I will prove it.”

Sebastian bit back a grin, thoroughly entertained. “By gaining their trust?”

“Yes.”

“And once you have it?”

In the same grave, serious tone, she said, “I will steal their dung.”

Sebastian stared at her. For all her strange and wonderful ways, the little freak never ceased to surprise him. The silence stretched on, then, despite himself, he laughed out loud.

She turned her head just enough to glare daggers at him, but the damage was already done.

A single Mooncalf - the nearest one, the one she had been painstakingly earning the trust of for the last hour - let out a startled noise. Then another. And then, as if a silent alarm had been tripped, the entire herd was suddenly in motion, scattering in every possible direction.

Sebastian winced.

The clearing was silent once more, save for the distant sounds of Mooncalves disappearing into the woods. Sebastian scrubbed a hand down his face.

“Right…” He muttered, glancing at the now-empty clearing with some measure of guilt. “Well, that’s unfortunate.”

“You did that on purpose!”

Sebastian held up his hands in mock innocence, biting back a smirk in the face of all her homicidal fury. “I didn’t say anything to them, love. If anything, you should blame their delicate sensibilities.”

Sebastian was enjoying this far too much. He reached forward, brushing his fingers through her hair before plucking a single stray leaf from her tangled mess. In response, she batted his hand away with an annoyed huff, swiping the leaf from his fingers and stuffing it into his now-sputtering mouth. “Don’t test me, Sallow.”

Despite the setback he had caused, he could see it in her eyes - the determination, the quiet planning already forming in her head.

She wasn’t going to let this go.

And frankly?

He couldn’t wait to watch her try again.

-

Sebastian wasn’t sure when, exactly, he had developed such an intense interest in her unhinged agricultural ambitions. It started as pure amusement. Something to tease her about. A way to poke at her sanity when she inevitably took things a step too far.

But then she had gone and made progress without him. And now, he found himself in the deeply unsettling position of being genuinely intrigued.

Which was why, when she offhandedly mentioned at breakfast that she had gone back to the Mooncalves on her own and was "making excellent progress now that certain nuisances weren’t scaring them off,” he had very nearly spilled tea all over his lap.

A nuisance?

Sebastian set his fork down a little too forcefully. "Pardon?"

Calm as anything, she took a bite of toast and didn’t so much as look at him. "You heard me."

“Oh, I herd you.” Sebastian narrowed his eyes. "You went without me?"

She merely shrugged. "You were a liability."

Sebastian let out a deeply offended scoff. "I am an asset."

Unconcerned, she took another bite of toast.

Sebastian leaned in. "So? How much progress are we talking?"

She chewed slowly, deliberately.

Sebastian waited.

Then, she lifted her goblet and took a sip of pumpkin juice, drinking for an eternity as she watched him squirm.

Sebastian said her name once in low warning.

She set her goblet down, dabbing at her lips with her napkin before finally meeting his gaze.

And then, without even a flicker of hesitation, she said, "Classified information."

Sebastian stared at her, scandalized. "Excuse me?"

"My herd relations are delicate. I can’t have you interfering again."

Sebastian was positively indignant. "Interfering? I was observing!"

She offered him a knowing look.

Sebastian huffed. "You’re saying you’ve got privileged Mooncalf knowledge now?"

"That’s exactly what I’m saying."

Sebastian sat back, crossing his arms. "You know, I’m starting to think you’re making all of this up just to mess with me."

"Believe whatever you like." She replied smugly, going back to her breakfast as he narrowed his eyes.

And Sebastian, for the first time since this ridiculous endeavor had begun, realized that he was actually going to have to put in some effort if he wanted to keep up. If she wasn’t going to let him in on whatever absurd plan she was cooking up next, well…

He’d just have to find out for himself.

-

Sebastian had embarked on many questionable endeavors in his life.

He had dug through catacombs. He had dabbled in dark magic. He had willingly partnered with Garreth Weasley on an experimental focus potion once, which, in hindsight, might have been the most dangerous decision of them all.

But stalking his own girlfriend into the woods to uncover her deeply classified Mooncalf research?

This was a new low.

To make matters worse, it was not going well.

He had been trailing after her for the better part of an hour, attempting to track her movements through the forest, except he was not rugged, nor particularly adept at tracking, nor remotely accustomed to the sheer number of branches that seemed personally determined to slap him in the face.

Still, he pressed on.

Because he had a goal.

Because she had been so infuriatingly smug at breakfast, and there was no possible way he could let her get away with keeping this absurdity to herself. And because, somewhere along the way, he had apparently developed a deep, inexplicable investment in this increasingly ridiculous operation.

He finally spotted the clearing up ahead.

Slowing his steps and moving with careful, quiet precision (which was difficult, given that he had already tripped twice in the dark).

And then, he saw her.

And every single thought in his head came to a screeching halt.

She was asleep.

In the middle of the clearing.

Surrounded by a herd of unbothered Mooncalves.

Nestled right in their midst, as though she had always belonged there.

Sebastian stared, dumbfounded, because he had come fully prepared to find her in the middle of some outrageous new attempt at integration. Maybe feeding them by hand, whispering animal noises to them, or trying to mimic their dance.

He had not, for even a second, anticipated this. The sight of her, curled up amidst the herd, soft and peaceful, was obnoxiously adorable.

This was not at all what he signed up for. He had come to investigate - to uncover the truth. Not to have his heart practically ripped from his chest by the image of his insane, lovely girlfriend sleeping among Mooncalves like some kind of woodland princess.

Still, he had to do something. He couldn’t just leave her there, after all.

With a sigh of deep, dramatic suffering, he stepped forward, carefully weaving his way between the sleepy herd. A few of the Mooncalves looked up at him, unimpressed.

Sebastian pressed a finger to his lips, trying to telepathically convey that, ‘I am not here to disrupt your cult. I am merely here to retrieve your most dedicated follower.’

Then, carefully, he knelt beside said cult follower. For a moment, he just looked at her. She was breathing evenly, curled against the soft flank of one of the Mooncalves, her fingers grasping its fur. Sebastian felt something in his chest twist, because she had no idea how much of a menace she was.

No idea what she did to him.

Shaking his head at her complete lack of self-preservation, he leaned down and murmured, “Darling, much as I’m sure you’re enjoying your grand ascension into Mooncalf royalty, it’s time to wake up.”

She let out a sleepy mumble, shifting slightly but otherwise remaining blissfully unconscious.

Sebastian sighed.

Right, then.

Plan B.

He nudged aside one of her moonkin with an insistent foot and slid his arms beneath her, lifting her carefully as he could. She was warm. Soft. Ridiculously trusting in her sleep. She murmured something unintelligible again, her head tilting naturally against his chest.

Sebastian - who was not weak, who was not sentimental, who was absolutely not prone to heart-stopping fondness - felt himself go completely, helplessly undone.

Merlin, he was doomed.

With a grunt, he adjusted his hold on her and turned back toward the castle. The walk was longer than it should have been. Not because she was heavy - she wasn’t. And not because he was struggling with the logistics of carrying a fully grown witch and her bag of fresh dung through the forest.

But because he didn’t particularly want to put her down.

Still, by the time he made it back to his dormitory, she had begun to stir. Gently, he eased her onto his bed, tucking the blankets around her. She stirred softly and blinked up at him in confusion.

Sebastian smirked, brushing a bit of stray hair from her face. “Morning, Mooncalf.”

She made a vague whimper of discontent, rubbing at her eyes. “Sebastian?”

“The one and only.”

She blinked again, frowning slightly as she took in her surroundings. “…This is your dormitory.”

Sebastian grinned. “That it is.”

She was quiet for a moment. Then, her brows furrowed slightly.

“I was with the herd, though.” She mumbled.

Sebastian chuckled. “And now you’re with me.”

Then, in a sleepy, groggy voice that should absolutely not have made his heart melt the way it did, she muttered, “You smell nice.”

“Funny,” He mused. “I was just about to say the opposite of you.”

She made a half-hearted attempt to swat at him, but her arm barely lifted before she gave up and just burrowed further into his blankets.

Sebastian, who had fully planned to gloat, tease, and remind her of exactly who had carried her all the way back to the castle, instead found himself tugging off his boots and climbing in beside her. She was already halfway asleep again when he tucked an arm around her waist, pulling her in against him.

Sebastian shook his head fondly and kissed the top of her head - despite it smelling of livestock.

“This is it, isn’t it? I’ve lost you to the herd.”

She yawned and offered a sleepy, “You can always join us - I'll introduce you next time…”

And Sebastian, helpless, ridiculous, utterly ruined by this witch-turned-mooncalf, just held her closer as they fell asleep.

[kaviary-blog]

“Despite everything, it’s still you”

The whiplash of Kaili Jayne

Individual portraits under the cut

[kaviary-blog]

She does this once in a while at her quidditch practices …

.

After two weeks working on Lorrain’s falling animation ( only took me 159 layers 😩😮‍💨 ) it’s finally done!!!! 💓🙇‍♀️🫶✨ I heard this audio a month ago and I decided to set my goal to put it on an “everyday” situation. I honestly can’t believe I finish it 😭😭😭

Notes:

👉 To everyone who animates… my respects 🫡 you’re my hero.

👉 Lorrain’s falling animation base is from Toaru Kagaku ( op.4 second 14 to 17 )

[kaviary-blog]

Thank you, @pluviowriting my love!

Is it cheating to do both? Maybe. But here’s the Crowood Twins sharing the holiday spirit! By that, Idella made Adalia do it

No pressure tags @applinsandoranges @ellivenollivander @choccy-milky

Meiker Tag

thank you so much for tagging me, @cloudofbutterflies92 🩷 both Eden and Sofia look so lovely!

Lydia is not happy because Tom doesn't want to partake in her cringe Christmas shenanigans :3

np tagging: @valyrra @sallowslove @morelikeravenbore @lilac-ravenclaw @evaslytherpuff

and I desperately want to see @shanaraharlyah @traceyc-uk and @lil-grem-draws beautiful boys but this meiker has only female options wtf 😭

[kaviary-blog]

Hello!!! I love your work and you! You are a wonderful human being who makes everyone’s lives better purely by existing! I can’t wait to see what you do next

Helloooo!! You got me all mushy 🥰🥰

Thank you! I love you!!

I’ve got a million wips, both fics and art. And most might never get finished but hopefully each project will eventually see the light

[kaviary-blog]

The Shape of Her Name

When only one person knows a name, how long till it disappears?

A second installment to this fic

Ominis Gaunt, Sebastian Sallow, and an Anonymous F!MC

Warnings: Mentions of death, angst, maybe a pinch of comfort if you squint

Word Count: 1.4k

Ominis Gaunt knew many things about many of his classmates. Being blind came with its benefits, one of them being people tended to think him deaf as well; though he was quite the opposite.

His silence allowed for the noises and gossip of others to be heard and made memorable.

However, there was one student in particular that stood apart from the crowd. Outside the gathering of the masses and the events of life. Fluent in being unwanted and forgotten.

The only thing Ominis knew about her was the sound of her voice and the feel of her name as it took shape in his mouth and slipped off his tongue.

Sometimes it seemed as if he was the only one who knew what it felt like to shape her name the way it sounds. Well, sounded.

Never the feel of her skin or the texture of her hair. The occasional whiff of her scent would pass him by, though never lingering long enough to commit to memory. And the pattern of her footsteps was easily drowned out by their much heavier footed peers.

She stood outside the room that life took place in, even more so now that she had passed from the mortal world that had never acknowledged her.

Only in death had they known of her, and they knew only what she had done for them but never who she was. They knew her sacrifice but not her life.

Wilted flowers adorned the pedestal on which they placed her. A plaque reading an empty title, another excuse not to dig around searching for the name that died with her.

It didn’t take long after the start of their sixth year for people to slowly forget about the statue and the girl behind it. Allowing it to blend into the background and become a closer mirror of its personification.

She stood gallantly, protecting the school and the world that hadn’t ever welcomed her, her fate permanently set into eroding stone.

Her wand had been broken out of her hand, underclassmen thinking themselves impressive to have a replica of the Wand that Saved Hogwarts.

The only person who ever visited the statue anymore was a young man, though his face never turned up to hers. He would sit in silence at her feet, as they so often did before her demise.

Ominis Gaunt, the only person who remembered her. The only one who knew her name.

They used to sit silently and work on assignments together, never speaking much but understanding each other without the use of words.

The blond boy continued this tradition, sitting quietly at the foot of her statue and working silently in her protective atmosphere.

There had been times in the beginning where the temperature would drop and the air would grow still, times when the world seemed to remember what it had lost and was grieving with him. Times when the earth itself wept for her.

Time continued to pass, leaving her further and further behind. The further it went without her the more foreign her name felt in his mouth or in his thoughts; to the point he wasn’t sure if it was the correct shape anymore.

— — —

Sitting in the quiet chill of the Slytherin common room, listening to the solemn sounds of the lake out the window, familiar footsteps approached the armchair occupied by a blond boy; eyes closed and ears perked.

“Sebastian.” A one word greeting to his longtime friend.

“Can I sit?” Sebastian’s tone wasn’t as cheerful or confident as it used to be.

Ominis simply nodded his head once and Sebastian took a seat in the armchair across from his melancholic friend.

Even without the use of his eyes he knew that the brunet before him was nervously playing with his hands.

“Quit picking,” he nudged Sebastian’s leg with his foot, “it’s a bad habit.”

“Right.”

There was silence between the two boys before a quirked eyebrow from Ominis urged Sebastian to spit out whatever was on his mind.

“I’ve been… thinking about her” at those words, Ominis froze. There had been no mention of their fallen friend since her passing. “And I know you spend the occasional afternoon…”

The words coming out of Sebastian’s mouth fell on deaf ears. Jaw clenched as he thought of her. Someone he knew so much and so little about, someone who sacrificed her own life to save a world that didn’t even bother to recover her body.

Grief fueled the anger that rose in his chest. “Enough!” He snapped at his friend. “I am not discussing her with you.”

“What? Why not?” Sebastian was taken aback, feelings slightly hurt by the aggression of his best friend’s tone.

“Because why now? She’s been gone for almost a year. Has your guilt finally caught up with you? Sebastian, you couldn’t have cared less about her when she was alive and you’ve never once brought her up since she died. So why now?”

He knew his words were unnecessarily harsh, but it was the truth.

“I- I’m sorry”

“Don’t. Don’t you dare.”

“Ominis-“ Sebastian’s voice was small and uncharacteristically solemn.

“Did you know you were the last person to speak to her before she died?”

That caught him off guard.

“What? No. I hadn’t even seen her for months before the memorial at the end of the year.”

Ominis sighed, shaking his head.

“When was it that Fig disappeared?”

Oh

Sebastian’s demeanor fell, the weight of his realization bringing his face down into his hands.

“Just after Christmas break. Merlin.”

His voice cracked but Ominis hadn’t stayed long enough to hear it; Deciding he no longer wanted to be the one to nurse Sebastian’s antiquated sense of guilt and self shame.

— — —

The seasons continued to change with no regard for the suffering time brought.

Snow blanketed the castle grounds the same way it had that fateful day the year before. Students celebrated the cheer that usually accompanied the holiday season. Hogwarts was ablaze with decorations, enchanted snowflakes, and the joyful scents that came with the season.

The illusion of cheer around every corner.

Laughter filled the halls, everyone seemed to be in bright spirits; except one.

“Ominis?”

The blond turned his ear towards the footsteps that crunched in the snow.

They stopped a few feet shy from the boy.

“I thought I’d find you here.”

“What do you want, Sebastian?”

“It’s cold out. I brought hot cocoa”

An arm outstretched towards Ominis, holding a warm mug. “Can I sit?”

“I’m not going to stop you, and…thank you.” The boy grabbed the mug from his friend, who brushed the snow off the base of her pedestal.

“This was her favorite drink. I know at least that much.” Ominis listened to the soft voice of his dearest friend, hearing him set down a second mug down next to the statues feet before plopping down next to the blind boy.

A small smile crossed his lips at Sebastian’s words combined with the gesture.

Ominis turned his face up to the snow that began to fall, “and she hated the snow, didn’t like how it made her shoes soggy and that she could never seem to get warm enough.” His words were laced with a bittersweet tenderness. “She’d probably be so upset that she died in the midst of deep winter. Or she’d say that it was rather fitting.”

The two chatted lightly, small things they could remember about her though they were few.

Sebastian turned his face up to the slowly eroding one on the statue, his brows furrowed. A question that had nagged at him since he first heard of her passing.

“Ominis,” Sebastian hesitated, “…what was her name?”, he was almost afraid of whatever answer the boy would give.

Ominis’ face fell, pain dancing across his pale features before he slowly opened his mouth.

“I.. I don’t... I don’t know. I can’t remember”

The words broke his heart to say. And maybe Sebastian had been right; not knowing her name in the first place would have been much less painful than having it torn from his memories the same way she was torn from him.

Her name no longer had a shape, if it had even held one to begin with. The Hero of Hogwarts was well and truly gone, her name joining her in the unmarked grave where she fell. The rubble of a forgotten tomb would forever house the remains of a forgotten girl.

[kaviary-blog]

WIP Tag Game

I got tagged by the talented @writing-intheundercroft

I have a lot of WIPs but most of them are one or two paragraphs. So here’s the longest one that may or may not ever get finished

Sad Ominis snippet, that’s a part two of the Nameless MC fic, under the cut :)

Ominis Gaunt knew many things about many of his classmates. Being blind came with its benefits, one of them being people tended to think him deaf as well; though he was quite the opposite.

His silence allowed for the noises and gossip of others to be heard and made memorable.

However, there was one student in particular that stood apart from the crowd. Outside the gathering of the masses and the events of life. Fluent in being unwanted and forgotten.

The only thing Ominis knew about her was the sound of her voice and the feel of her name as it took shape in his mouth and slipped off his tongue.

Sometimes it seemed as if he was the only one who knew what it felt like to shape her name the way it sounds. Well, sounded.

Never the feel of her skin or the texture of her hair. The occasional whiff of her scent would pass him by, though never lingering long enough to commit to memory. And the pattern of her footsteps was easily drowned out by their much heavier footed peers.

She stood outside the room that life took place in, even more so now that she had passed from the mortal world that had never acknowledged her.

Only in death had they known of her, and they knew only what she had done for them but never who she was. They knew her sacrifice but not her life.

Wilted flowers adorned the pedestal on which they placed her. A plaque reading an empty title, another excuse not to dig around searching for the name that died with her.

It didn’t take long after the start of their sixth year for people to slowly forget about the statue and the girl behind it. Allowing it to blend into the background and become a closer mirror of its personification.

She stood gallantly, protecting the school and the world that hadn’t ever welcomed her, her fate permanently set into eroding stone.

Her wand had been broken out of her hand, underclassmen thinking themselves impressive to have a replica of the Wand that Saved Hogwarts.

The only person who ever visited the statue anymore was a young man, though his face never turned up to hers. He would sit in silence at her feet, as they so often did before her demise.

Ominis Gaunt, the only person who remembered her. The only one who knew her name.

They used to sit silently and work on assignments together, never speaking much but understanding each other without the use of words.

The blond boy continued this tradition, sitting quietly at the foot of her statue and working silently in her protective atmosphere.

There had been times in the beginning where the temperature would drop and the air would grow still, times when the world seemed to remember what it had lost and was grieving with him. Times when the earth itself wept for her.

Time continued to pass, leaving her further and further behind. The further it went without her the more foreign her name felt in his mouth or in his thoughts; to the point he wasn’t sure if it was the correct shape anymore.

No pressure tags!!

@applinsandoranges @choccy-milky @marketfreshfics and any other who wants to participate!!

[kaviary-blog]

I have never attempted to draw a comic before…..

I commend all that have the commitment and drive to create them.

And at the same time, playing with the lil poses is fun 😂

[kaviary-blog]

I find that I draw on mostly post-it notes while I’m at work (instead of the sketchbook I keep in my bag, idk)

And after a while, it becomes time to scrapbook them into the tiny sketchbook

So here’s a collection of Kaili sketches and brain rot 😊😊

Close up to my favorite from the spread

[kaviary-blog]

Thanks for the tag, @writing-intheundercroft!! 💖💖💖

No pressure tags! @applinsandoranges @choccy-milky @pluviowriting @marketfreshfics @nerdybirdee @skittish1807 @ethniee

New Tag Game

Go on Pinterest and type in “friendship with me”. The first six pictures describes what a friendship with you looks like.

Tagging: @luminousecho @wrengaunt @the-golden-comet @paper-cranes @batsmcgee @crime-in-progress @shyinsunlight @eleniaelres @jewnicornjesse-blog @esolean @infernalrusalka @jamiemoonymarks @oerflink @uniyppy

[kaviary-blog]

Slytherin quidditch team in shambles

idk how you guys do comics i'm dying after a few panels

[kaviary-blog]

~Tag nine people you want to get to know better~

I was tagged… like three times so I gotta 😂 by besties @pluviowriting, @writing-intheundercroft, @choccy-milky

Last Song?- Womanizer by Britney Spears is currently playing in my headphones and I type this (Kavi is listening to her Bimbo OC playlidt)

Favorite Color?- Purple or Green (specifically lilac and forest/sage green)

Currently Watching?- Depends on what you’re asking… right at this moment I’m working my way through Markiplier’s Help Wanted videos (and other fnaf shenanigans)

Last Movie?- Batman Under the Red Hood (I think, I cannae remember)

Sweet/Spicy/Savory?- It’s always a toss up between sweet and savory for me. But right now I’m eating pizza so…. Undecided

Relationship Status?- Single, I’m devoted to my delusions and brain rot

Current Obsessions?- Hogwarts Legacy (I know, shocking), FNAF, Miraculous Ladybug (all of the above since the very beginning)

Last Thing You Googled?- When the bicycle was invented

No pressure tags: @applinsandoranges, @ellivenollivander, @marketfreshfics, I don’t know nine people. Everyone else has don’t this, so if you haven’t and you read this, consider yourself tagged!!

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Awwwww thank youuuuuuuuuuu

I love my Pluv!!

I AM HERE TO PUBLICLY ANNOUNCE THAT IF YOU ARE FRIENDS WITH MY BABY @kaviary-blog MAKE SURE YOU WISH HER A HAPPY BIRTHDAY OR ELSE BC BIRTHDAY GIRL DESERVES ALL THE ATTENTION AND LOVE ON HER SPECIAL DAY

I’m not even sorry that I’m perceiving you Kavi Baby. Here is to another year of chaos, laughter, talking shit, sharing a brain cell, and being thankful that Applin Athena-birthed you from her use of the braincell. I love you. So many bunches.

[kaviary-blog]

God I love torturing my characters it's so fun