#and violets cat too weather ..

[hikiclawd]

lil comics and things from months ago

[mixvyu]

Parfum d’étoile - episode twelve part one

scaramouche x reader smau

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Flash forward

You checked the number next to the door for the tenth time and peeked at message Kazuha sent you the day before

'219' it read

Your eyes moved back and forth between the text and the number next to the door that also read '219'

You knocked for the nth time but still received no answer. You put your ear against the thick wood of the door, trying to hear some comotion from the inside.

'Maybe Scaramouche is in there and he's just ignoring me' you thought to yourself, that seemed like something he would do.

"Or maybe Kazuha made a typo" you said, outloud this time, even though there was no one but you in the hallway.

You paced around the corridor, surrounded by the sad beige that coated the walls of the boys' dorms.

You decided that the 10 minutes that you spent waiting were enough and decided that calling one of the two boys was probably something you should've done ages (9 minutes) ago.

You clicked on Kazuha's contact, not even stopping to consider calling his irritating roommates/best friend.

Right as you were about to press the call button you heard a grating voice calling your name

"Y/N? What are you doing here" Scaramouche asked, the elevator doors slowly closing behind him.

"I’m here for the group project ? Obviously ?"

"Is it that late already?" He mumbled loud enough for you to hear "I didn’t check the time, I'm sorry. I hope you didn’t wait for too long" he continued, ignoring the obvious sass in his voice and reaching into his jacket’s pocket for his keys.

Now that was surprising

Scaramouche apologised to you ? Again ?

You didn't answer him and just blinked in confusion

"What are you doing? Come in."

In the confusion that followed his apology, you didn't even realise that the door was already open.

you hurried inside and the door closed right behind you.

You took your coat off and before you could even look around for a place to leave it the violet headed man took it from you and hung it on the coat hanger that was hidden behind the door.

"Kazuha went out to run some errands, he should be back soon enough" the man explained while stripping down of his jacket revealing what he was wearing underneath.

Despite the cool weather, Scaramouche was wearing cropped sleeveless compression shirt that showed off his pale stomach and the piercing he wore on his belly button.

You didn't know he had piercing beside the ones decorating his ears. It surprinsingly looked good on him.

"It's rude to stare" you didn't even have to look up to sense the smirk that was decorating his face

"You look like a man-whore in that outfit." you chuckled "the only thing missing are the grey sweatpants"

"You look like a man whore" he repeated in a high pitched voice mocking you "didn't realise I needed to consult you before dressing up in the morning" he continued, in his normal tone this time.

"Wait, when did you pierce your lips ? I'm sure it wasn't there the last time i saw you" you commented, paying no mind his sarcastic remark.

"You must look at my lips pretty often to notice, i'm flattered" Scaramouche made his way to the kitchen before adding " 'got it done yesterday. just for you, sweetheart" he teased

you rolled your eyes at the pet name and made your way to the couch where you could see school work scattered everywhere.

Judging by the handwritting, those were reasearches done by Kazuha for the project.

Doodles were dispersed on the papers. The color used for the sketches being different than the one used by Kazuha, you could only guess that those were the work of Scaramouche.

The thought of Scaramouche doodling cats and stars on the margin of the sheets while Kazuha was trying to work made you smile a bit.

You could hear the sound of water boiling coming from the kitchen, Scaramouche was probably preparing tea which you found shocking.

Him being a decenthost was something you never expected.

The room you were in was surprisingly clean, it wasn’t something you expected for the dorm room of two 21 years old college students. It smelt of artificial cherry blossom aroma and felt oddly soothing.

You were pulled out of your thought by the sound of the keys unlocking the front door.

Kazuha entered, a bag full of groceries in his left hand and his house key in his right.

Now that you saw both set of keys you noticed that the boys had matching keychains.

Kazuha smiled at you after noticing you staring but his gazy quickly diverted toward Scaramouche

"Store those for me, thanks" he said to his roommate, pushing the bag of goods into his hands.

"Wow, not even a "hello"? Not even a "how are you"? "How was your day" ? Not even a little kiss on the cheek? I’m offended" Scaramouche protested but still ended up taking the bag from his friend before making his way back into the small kitchen.

Kazuha ignored his remark and walked up to you.

"Hey" he mouthed before plopping down beside you.

Before you were able to reply to him, you could hear the soft ‘click’ of porcelain hitting the wood table before Scaramouche threw himself beside you onto the sofa, apparently exhausted.

"You’re not… sitting next to Kazuha?" You questioned the man on your right. Kazuha sitting next to you was something you expected but for Scaramouche to do the same was completely unbelivable.

"I like this side better" he answered, bringing one of the three cups of tea he brought to his mouth before taking a sip.

You could hear the man on your other side clap to get the attention of the both of you.

"We should get to work, shouldn't we ?"

Extras!

The draft for this got deleted twice i'm dying

I based Scara's outfit on what my hallway crush wear i'm such a loser

Compression shirt scaramouche i'm foaming at the mouth

I wanted to write sleeveless crop top at first but i physically could not help myself

My exam start in 30 minutes i’m sooo stressed i hope i’ll get a passing grade ugh

Cutting this into two parts bc i didn't have the time to finish i'm sososo sorry

It's so bad i'm sorry i had to rush, i'll edit it later i swear!!! [cry]

★彡 Taglist! [open]

@gekkow @aemiko @veekoko @kichiyoshi @scaramouchelover4ever @sukunasrealgf @lxkeeeee @kunisblog @yukiipc @brfrtbrt @simpforsubmissivemen @featuredtofu @fanfictionenthusiast @beriiov @lyzisbitchingagain @bluebelony @ryomiye @reinoodle @bananasquash @mikukksks @sakiimeo @kitanablades @pennyluvr @sakurapeach @crystalsguitar @feiherp @deluluangel @gracefulace200 @apinu @elernity @st4romii @ahseya @feiherp @yelleloww @prettiestgirlxoxo @yoichiislovie

[ssailormoonn]

re: the Naruto boys, are there any songs you think fit them from your playlists? or just songs you think they'd vibe to irl? 🫶🏻😇

I sure do have some songs from my playlist that the Naruto Characters would vibe to :D (with links)

this is simply my opinion, if u guys no likey then just keep on scrolling :)

NARUTO;

On Fye By The Simps, Eyedress, Zzzahara

Pink + White by Frank Ocean

Jealous by Eyedress

Sweater Weather by The Neighbourhood

American boy by Estelle, Kanye West

SHIKAMARU;

Bring Me To Life by Evanescene

Motion Sickness by Vestron Vulture

Apocalypse by Cigarettes After Sex

Redbone by Childish Gambino

Untrust Us by Crystal Castles

Soaked by Shy Smith

it fit when i was a kid by Crystal Castles (unreleased)

Why'd You Only Call Me When Your High by Arctic monkeys

SASUKE;

Let It Happen by Tame Impala

YOU'RE TOO SLOW by Odetari

GMFU by Odetari

Dark Beach by Pastel Ghost

Killin on Demand by Freddie Dreadd

Deep End by Foushee

She's My Collar by Gorillaz, Kali Uchis

ITACHI;

Let Me Down Slowly by Alec Benjamin

Chamber of Reflection by Mac DeMarco

Borderline by Tame Impala

Alleyways by The Neighbourhood

Why'd You Only Call Me When Your High by Arctic monkeys

Mama's Boy by Dominic Fike

Headlock by Imogen Heap

I bet on loosing dogs by Mitski

OBITO;

Mask Off by Future, Kendrick Lamar

House of Balloons/ Table Glass Girls by The Weeknd

4 Morant by Doja Cat

Тоска By Molchat Dom

GARRA;

On Fye By The Simps, Eydress, Zzzahara (agn...)

My kind of woman by Mac DeMarco

The Perfect Girl by Maurex

Who Is She? by Monster

Young by Vacations

KAKASHI;

One of The Girls by The Weeknd, Lily Rose-Depp, JENNIE

The Colour Violet by Troy Lanez

Never by Mag.o

The Party & The After Party by The Weeknd

hope you enjoyed, this was my first type of request so i tired my best :D

M A S T E R L I S T

[etincelleart]

From what little I've read of the posts about it, I feel very bad for you, but at the same time I'm happy at how well you treated him from the beginning to the end of his life, and I'm sure he was happy all that time too.

Unfortunately grieving is also an important part of loving someone, so don't try to run away from that feeling: if you feel like crying, cry, the same goes for posting things about it here, remembering good times… Just go through the process, taking your time.

Once you feel less bad… Well, look at how you took care of him and had a happy life together! you certainly have few regrets, and the ones you do have, you did your best in that situation, and that's the best way you could have lived with him.

A bad thing about life is that it happens everytime : a really good game or series that came to an end, a friendship that lost touch, an empty plate after lunch…. We can't control how things end, but the way you lived with your cat was the best way to live: you did what you could and enjoyed every moment. Our life may one day end, but nothing takes away our right to make the most of it while we can.

I apologize a million times if this makes you feel worse or anything, I just want to help you to get through this moment and feel better. A big hug, you'll get through this.

It doesn't make me feel worse and I appreciate talking about it so thank you ♥

Honestly I'm just glad this is something I realized ever since I lost my first cat. Fripon isn't the first cat I lose, but he was the one I had a special bond with, even if I was close of the others too. The first cat I lost was closer to my mom and Fripon was basically my cat child, just like Citrouille aha

When you realize that it's so important to enjoy every moment with them, it probably makes things easier because you know you took the time to make them happy. There will always be regrets, especially in the last moments, because you had things to do or maybe you had to go somewhere, but it's so unpredictable so it's hard and I think the last moments will never be perfect... But you still can make it as good as you can as much as you can

That's why when Oskar (the first cat I lost) left, Fripon cried so much because he was really close of him, and I remember playing with him and cludding with him after coming back from high school, even if sometimes I was just tired and wanted to lay in the couch

And I'm not saying all that to say "look what I did" like, it's just to say, spend time with your pets ? I just wish more people could realize how short their lives are and how we're a lot to them, we all have our lives but what they know most of the time is us ?

When we found Citrouille in the garden it's the same too, she was so small and scared, not used to humans, so for a solid month in september I stayed with her to play outside for a few hours until she was ready to come inside. And after that it was also important to idk, spend time and play with her, raise her because it was a baby, just enjoy time with them because they're not just here for decoration

I'm rambling a lot but animals are so important to me, and my cats are my babies and I just learned so much from them, and when they show me trust idk I just feel great to see the impact I had on their lives

So it hurts I had to say goodbye to Fripon in such a brutal way, but I'm at least glad I was here, and I'm happy it was during my vacations so I'm able to process everything, and don't have to deal with anything else, and I was able to say goodbye properly and put him somewhere where we'll plant flowers when the weather's better, and where we put candles. Giving him daisies and violets and his favorite toy, and just be able to say goodbye peacefully is also so important

It's like a family member, I just hope what will remain will be good memories, of him helping me with my studies by acting stupid, or licking my hands, or eating tons of tuna, or purring to ask for more food aha ♥

♥♥

[olath124]

OC INTERVIEW

THANK YOU @ouroboros-hideout for the tag!

Violet is going to answer in a sincere way. She is a firm believer in a fake it till you make it, so she's usually more cool and collected than her spontaneous answers. But I liked to have a glimpse in her mind so she’d answer as she was speaking to herself.

My comments are enclosed in*...* and yes, using an old image because too lazy to make another one xD.

NAME?

Violet… Wright.

Don't like other people knowing my name.

NICKNAME?

V.

When I was a kid Jackie used to call me Violent. Then Ultraviolent. Then UV. Then simply V. That's quite the jump. When I got back and he called me V again, as nothing had changed, I knew I was home.

GENDER?

Female, cis.

STAR SIGN?

Hmmm… Aries? I’d have to ask Misty.

But she said I am passionate, stubborn, and prone to anger as every Aries, and I tend to believe her.

HEIGHT?

Yes, I know, I'm small. 1.65 cm.

I've always been small and when you're surrounded by buffed Valentinos that's an issue. But lately, it's proven useful. I'd rather be small and quick than big and hard to miss!

ORIENTATION?

I don't care, if someone sparkles my interest I stay with them as long as we fit together. I’m probably pansexual, or probably heteroflexible, but I've never really thought about it in depth.

FAVORITE FRUIT?

Fruit!? It's hard to find real good fruit in Heywood. But once Mama Welles bought real cherries for something special and Jackie stole them. I can't get that taste out of my head!

FAVORITE SEASON?

I like winter. I like the colder weather. I wish it would snow sometimes.

FAVORITE FLOWER?

Should it be violets? I hope not, but when I go out with someone who knows my name they always give me violets. It's embarrassing. If I had to pick a flower I'd pick peonies. But I don't care much about flowers anyway.

FAVORITE SCENT?

Tobacco. Not smoke, I don't like the smell of smoke. But I love the smell of tobacco. And a hint of vanilla, I think!

COFFEE OR TEA?

Coffee, usually. Tea on special occasions.

AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP?

It may vary a lot. If I need to stay awake or if the adrenaline is high I can stay awake. I've spent a few days when I had to… do a lot of stuff without sleeping. But when I finally stop I crash hard. I can sleep for 12-14 hours at a time.

*Vio, you’re a mess xD”

DOG OR CAT PERSON?

Cats. Dogs require too much attention and energy. I don't have a fixed schedule so having a dog would be a mess.

DREAM TRIP?

I love the City, love to hate it. I know, it's only a trip… but I know I'd feel out of place anywhere else. If I had to choose somewhere, I'd say Europe. Greece, Spain, or Italy… but I really don't like the idea of being away from the City for too long. Can I have a trip to a particular part of the City?

*She REALLY loves Night City*

FAVORITE FICTIONAL CHARACTER?

Do people really have a favorite fictional character?!? I… don't know, I have to say that I've never consumed a lot of fiction, anyway.

NUMBER OF BLANKETS YOU SLEEP WITH?

One or none. As I've said, I usually crash on my bed when I'm too tired to go on, and often I sleep directly over the blanket.

*A real mess!*

RANDOM FACT?

I've once tried… This is embarrassing… to crochet a sweater for a cat. I still have the threads and everything somewhere. I thought it would be relaxing. But it was a mistake. Don't have the patience for that kind of stuff and they've teased me enough for it.

This is random enough isn't it?!

Anyone I know (or I silently follow like a stalker, because yeah, that’s what I do.) up here has probably already been tagged (most of them have already done it!) but that's ok anyway! @cybervesna @aggravateddurian @theviridianbunny @dustymagpie @wanderingaldecaldo

[darkhymns-fic]

Being an angel is pretty inconvenient, huh? (Ch. 6)

Finally, Lloyd returns home to Dirk. But he's never figured out a way to tell him about his new wings. How does one even start? [A Lloyd wingfic]

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia Characters/Pairing: Colette Brunel/Lloyd Irving, Dirk, Noishe Rating: T Word Count: 6852 Mirror: AO3 Notes: For Colloyd Week 2023, Day 6: Quote Day: “What would I wish for now if a falling star crossed the night sky?” This is long and self-indulgent, as expected!

--

In the distance, Lloyd saw the spiral of smoke, how it drifted up into the sky.

He craned his head, leaning back to watch it climb. In the darkness, it was harder to differentiate it from the clouds. Much of the weather lately had hidden away the sun, and that included the stars when night fell, blanketing them, making one's journey home just a bit more difficult.

But he and Colette had still found the way. They had traveled through Sylvarant so much, both on land and through the sky, that it was second-nature to find the road that led to Iselia, and eventually, to Dirk’s house.

To his house.

Lloyd kept watching the smoke, then lowered his gaze to see the warm light from the windows. The one on the far right illuminated a stable, along with the shifting ears of a creature deep in sleep.

He didn't hear Colette’s footsteps, but he noticed the soft violet shade that stretched along the road. “We don't have to go just yet, if you're not ready,” she said. The tip of her wing brushed over his own, pure light against feather and bone.

He could hear his father at work. The rhythmic clunk of the hammer echoed through the stillness. It was one sound of many that Lloyd had grown up with, sometimes even falling asleep to it as Dirk continued to work late into the night. For a commission, for a repair to the house that was long overdue, or for a project of his very own making.

The sound may as well have been lifted from his memories. His dad had always said dwarves rarely changed throughout their years.

Lloyd swallowed. But then what will he think when he sees me?

There was a soft meow from behind him.

He turned to see Blippy poke his head from the basket Colette carried. The once tiny kitty had grown, though only by a few inches or so. Blippy’s white fur shone bright in the night. Wide eyes looked up at Lloyd, then started pawing at a feather that dangled just above a wet nose.

Lloyd couldn’t help a small laugh that escaped his throat. “Hey, my wings aren’t a new toy for you.”

Colette smiled but made no move to stop the kitten. “And after Yuan gave him a bunch of cat toys for him to play with too.” She hefted up the bag she carried in her other hand, the felt of one pet toy sneaking out from the top.

“...Yeah, why did he have those toys anyway? You think he used to be a cat owner?”

“Or maybe it used to belong to Noishe when they traveled together! I think Yuan really likes animals.”

“You sure? He seems too grumpy to be an animal lover though…”

Blippy was oblivious to their talk, still bapping away at Lloyd’s feathers. With a grin, he placed a gloved hand over the kitten’s head, scratching just beneath his ear. Even so, those tiny paws kept reaching for him.

“Hey, little guy. We’ll play with you soon. Just…first I gotta—”

And, Lloyd had thought they weren’t being particularly loud. There were always little rustles in the forest around nighttime, the kind that would make Noishe retreat further into his pen, or even sneak inside the house to cower underneath Lloyd’s bed. 

The keening whine through the air made him think otherwise.

Going by Colette's expression, even she hadn’t expected Noishe to already be upon them. “Ah, N-Noishe, wait!” But Lloyd already felt the great paw right in the center of his back, nudging against his wings.

He fell face first into the ground. 

“Gah! Noishe! Heavy!” Lloyd struggled, but the great green beast was busy nuzzling his snout against Lloyd’s cheek, letting out great bark-whines right in his ear. “Okay, okay! I'm happy to see you too but get off!”

Also, having four legs, this meant Noishe kept accidentally stepping right on Lloyd's wings, as well as his back. I don't have to worry about losing these on my own, he's just gonna break them off!

“Calm down, boy! Here, look! We have a new friend for you!” Colette was truly doing her best, petting Noishe’s ears as he still half-trampled over Lloyd. She then lifted the basket, where Blippy was looking up at Noishe with another mew.

The sound was new to Noishe, who had rarely been around normal cats and was only used to the monstrous ones, like giant lynxes or chimeras. He whined, pressing his paw against the back of Lloyd’s head.

Despite having wings, Lloyd sure was getting to know the ground a lot more!

“Oy, what's all the racket, Noishe? Are the little foxes bullying you again?”

And just like that, Noishe stepped off Lloyd, giving mercy to his wings (and back). He was sure he lost a few extra feathers…

“Mr. Dirk! It's us!” Colette called out, helping Lloyd get back to his feet, brushing off dirt clumps and grass from his jacket. “We're home!”

And it was that word, home, that made Lloyd suddenly freeze.

He was still facing away from the house, from Dirk. So right now, his dad had a full view of his wings, which were a little scuffled now from Noishe’s paws, their feathers probably falling off and floating to the ground. 

And Dirk wasn’t saying anything.

Lloyd took a shaky breath. A part of him didn’t want to turn around, instead feeling the instinct to fly away and hide. But he had come all this way, and there was something aching in his chest to finally be inside his house after what felt like such a long time.

When he did turn, he was careful to keep his wings folded, so that they wouldn't get in anyone’s way. They were always getting in someone’s way. “Hey…Dad. Um…” He smiled tremulously, giving a small shrug. “Surprise?”

Dirk was only a few feet away, standing at the other end of the logs that served as a makeshift bridge over a small river. The dwarf’s arms were crossed, silently looking at Lloyd more and more, the wind ruffling his thick beard.

As the moments passed, all Lloyd could think that this had been a mistake. His wings shifted, curling inward more as if they could fully hide behind his back. “Sorry, I… a lot happened and…”

“Ya came here earlier than I thought,” Dirk interrupted. He scratched at his beard, humming softly. “The renovations aren't quite ready yet. Thought I’d be done sooner, but I suppose all these centuries are finally catching up to me.”

Lloyd blinked. “Reno-what?”

“Well, don't just stand there, boy. Nights have been colder here lately, ya know. What with that Celsius lass taking root in Triet now. Get the both of you inside and I'll heat up some stew.”

With that, Dirk stepped back into the house through the front doorway. Warm light framed his silhouette before he moved to the side where the kitchen was, the clinking of pots echoing.

Wait, Lloyd thought. Something seems different…

“Uh, Dad?” Lloyd asked, looking at the entrance to the house for a long while, squinting and unsquinting until he finally understood what he was seeing. “Where's the door?”

It sounded weird to say out loud, but there really was just suddenly no door at the front of his house! The metal hinges were still present, and as he looked closer, there were wood shavings scattered along the floor. That, and the door frame itself seemed to be carved in a little more than he remembered.

“Ah, that? The old one won't fit the new measurements, so I had to take it down.” Dirk brought an old cooking pot to the fire stove, the logs already fairly lit. “I only had Ms. Sage’s letter to know just how much I would need to widen the doorway for you, and I still need to fix the top as well. I’ve also been mending your clothes that you left behind—so you’ll need to put on your jackets a little differently. I’ve fashioned some clasps in the back to make it fit better, but should more or less be the same. Reminds me of the time I had to lengthen my very own trousers when you had yer growth spurt!”

Lloyd was just more and more confused at the new information being given. “Wait, the Professor's letter? When did she…?

A whine from Noishe pierced through the night, followed by a wagging tail that thumped against the ground at the scent of prepared food. Dirk turned at the sound—and it was then he noticed the little kitten Colette still held, wide eyes shining bright from the fire stove.

“Got yerselves even more mouths to feed, did ya?”

Lloyd remained standing outside, but Colette heard the invitation in Dirk’s tone, stepping towards the doorway, basket in hand. “His name is Blippy. But, I guess Professor Sage must have told you already.”

The dwarf chuckled as he gazed at the little animal, petting its head, his thick hand nearly thrice the size of it. “Fine little critter. Lloyd, you did good saving this young one.”

Something about that made Lloyd leave his confuddled daze, shaking his head—which in turn made his feathers fluff up. “So you already knew about my wings!? This whole time?!” A pause. “You know everything?!”

“Ay, keep yer voice down! No sense shouting to the whole world at this hour.” Dirk faced Lloyd, the sweat on his brow apparent from the work he had put himself through. “I got no word from ya all this time. Had me worried sick if you were hurt or worse. So, I sent a query to your teacher. I figured if anyone would know anything, she would be the one.”

At that, Lloyd hung his head, running a hand through his hair. “And I've been freaking out about how to tell you…”

“I'm sorry we haven't sent anything in so long,” Colette quickly apologized. “So much happened all at once, that we just, kinda lost track.”

Dirk smiled at her, his thick beard moving like a bristly forest. “Now, you know I always appreciate your letters about how you and Lloyd are faring. That isn't the problem here.” Back to Lloyd, the dwarf’s arms were crossed once again. “What grieves me though is how my own son could not trust me.”

Lloyd raised his head with a snap. Feathers fluttered on the wind, one of them sneaking into the house to land shyly on the hardwood floors. “That's not-! I mean…” He groaned, taking a deep breath before starting again. 

“You see this, right?” He gestured to his now stretched out wings, feeling every creak and motion they made. He couldn’t move them without feeling awkward, these extra limbs having no where to go and hide. “I've been going over and over how I was going to tell you about this! I, I had to talk to other people first. And I still don’t really understand how these wings happened or why it did, but…” His wings bristled without his meaning to, embarrassing him just then. “I just didn't want you to see me…different…”

Lloyd suddenly felt so small as he spoke. And his wings were still far too big.

It was a while before Dirk spoke again, with only the sounds of the boiling pot and the crackling fire taking up the wasted space between. “Lloyd, I thought I had taught you this already, but perhaps I need to drill it into your skull a little more.”

“Huh? What do you mea–Ow!”

Lloyd could only hear Colette gasp slightly as he felt the sharp sting. Knuckles rapped against his forehead, a small tap for Dirk, but a dwarf’s strength was never to be underestimated. Lloyd placed a hand over what he was sure was a bruise already forming. It hadn’t been a punch, yet it almost felt like one. “W-what was that for?”

“It's to get through your thick-headedness!” Dirk yelled. “Don't you get that you change in front of me every time I turn my head? One moment, you’re a little tyke barely reaching my knees, and the next, you’re a grown man who carries his swords with pride. Why would you having wings now make any true difference to me? For all I know of humans, I would have believed them sprouting wings was as natural as breathing air!”

Lloyd gawked. “But we don't… well…” He looked to Colette, who still had her own wings out, their light suffusing the inside of the home with that soft violet he had grown so used to. “I guess some of us do?”

At that, Dirk’s great hand reached to clap against Lloyd's shoulder, making him stumble, his right wing flapping to keep him balanced. But there was a supplication this gesture now, not frustration nor anger. “You’ve changed, and you will always keep changing. But no matter what, you are still my son.” A small smirk could just barely be seen through his dark beard, but Lloyd had learned to recognize it through the years—and it was there. “You are still my very own child that I raised in this home, regardless of blood.”

A still moment. His father's smile. Lloyd had heard similar words before.

Why had he forgotten that already?

“Now, will ya come in already? Colette's already beat ya to it! Which means she’ll have first dibs on the potluck surprise I'll be making.”

“Dwarven Potluck Surprise? It’s been so long!” Colette beamed—and Blippy meowed right after. "Ah, but I don’t think you should eat that.”

Colette had already gone inside Dirk’s home, perhaps unconsciously so. Her wings fluttered, motes of light drifting in the air as she realized her position. Perhaps it was because she had always been invited here that she had gone in so easily. “And sorry, I should put these away…”

Dirk waved his hand. “Nonsense. They give the house some much needed light anyways.” He patted Lloyd’s shoulder again, gentler this time. “Well? Will you be coming in or will I have to pull you by the ear like old times?”

Lloyd would have argued against that, if he had felt like himself. But he looked again at the doorway, at the markings of sawdust and hammer marks that had taken place. “You were making that bigger for me,” he said.

Dirk nodded. “No sense in having you squeeze your wings through the front door. The one on your balcony should be wide enough, so I’m trying to make it the same here. I might need to move one of the windows to do so, but it's been a while since I’ve done some real construction work. A good time to keep my skills from being too rusty!”

There was joy in his father’s voice as he spoke, even some excitement at the idea of building something for Lloyd. There was no half-heartedness, no worry, and nothing fearful. And with his dad being so close to one of his wings, barely raising a bushy eyebrow at their size, Lloyd realized then.

His vision got blurry all the sudden. He tried to hide it with a quick swipe of his arm, but it only seemed to make his tears fall down all the more. “Ah, dammit, s-sorry.”

Even so, he couldn’t stop crying.

Lloyd found himself leaning on his father’s arm who guided him inside. The shadow of his own wings fell over the dwarf, but Dirk didn’t seem to mind at all. 

“Now, now, yer apologizing as much as Colette here. You must be starving, lad. Come in now.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t…believe it would be okay.” Harder to speak, just like when he was a little. He’d been such a crybaby back then. “I’m really sorry…”

“Hush now. Also mind the tools there, ya don’t want a wicked nail through your boot. We’ll have a bit of a draft while we eat but I’m sure it’s nothing you’re not already used to.” Dirk continued to speak gently, as he would do when Lloyd was little, crying over monsters in the dark, and nightmares he could put no name to.

Maybe it was the pain of getting his wings, the weight of them, the constant ache and everything else that had made him forget. He moved through the doorway, already wide enough that he barely needed to tuck in his wings as he stepped inside. The familiar scent of the simmering potluck, the soft light from Colette’s wings painting the walls, the tiny whines from Noishe as he settled himself in a corner, hoping for scraps to come his way.

Remember, this is your home.

Lloyd really had forgotten so many things.

But he remembered the stew tasting so, so warm.

 --

The skies stayed cloudy throughout the coming days. Again, Dirk commented how it must have been Celsius’ doing, the icy summon spirit bringing forth a chill that the thick forests surrounding Iselia did not know—though not enough to hurt the trees or any of the plants in their garden, thankfully. “A customer of mine said the desert had its first snowfall,” he would later say. “It seems change is happening everywhere.”

Lloyd hadn’t been sure how long he would stay home this time. Typically, it would be a week or two at a time before he and Colette would set out on the road again. But as he seated himself on the balcony railing, his wings helping him keep balance, hearing his father put the finishing touches on the doorway below, he was finding it harder to leave.

That, and Blippy seemed to really like it here, too.

The white kitten was already growing so fast, barely fitting inside his basket anymore. So it only made sense that he would wander around the home, poking his head among the potted plants and snatching any dried fish that Dirk had stored. There had been some worries, from both Lloyd and Colette, about the river that wound around the house and if Blippy would fall in. Still, the river never ran fast and was barely over a foot deep, yet even so, Dirk had set about creating a little wooden fence, so that Blippy didn’t accidentally dip a paw in the water in curiosity.

Yet, maybe they had been worrying too much, because Blippy was far more interested in Noishe instead of some water.

Lloyd watched Blippy chase after Noishe across the grass. The small little flash of fur was bright, mewing all while Noishe whined and tried to hide in his stable. His dad turned his head occasionally towards the sight, letting out a chuckle or two before going back to his work.

“Looks like they’ve been getting along lately, don’t you think?”

Lloyd felt the brush of her fingers against his wings. The touch was so light, reminding him of the way she would press her fingers into his palm. He grinned, still watching both dog and cat rush across the ground. “Maybe. Either that or Noishe is great with kids.”

Colette looked down, her own soft laughter escaping her lips. He felt her fingers move from her wings to around his back—to the new openings in his jacket for his wings to comfortably hang from. It definitely took Lloyd some getting used to wearing it, but his dad’s tailoring skills were nearly as good as his crafting. The back clasps in his jacket could be tightened after he put it on, so that he no longer had to wrestle his wings through the makeshift openings he and Colette had tried to do on their own. No more tearing through the fabric, and no more worries that his jacket would simply fall off because of such new shapes.

“I’m glad he still kept these red,” Colette noted, and he could hear the playful tone in her voice. “Or would you have wanted to try a different color?”

“You know, now that I think about it…blue would look pretty great on me. Oh, or maybe purple!”

“Aw, purple is cute!” And before Lloyd could argue that purple could be more than just a cute color, she also moved to sit on the railing beside him, carefully brushing aside the clinging ivy and the soft dust of pollen that had draped over it.

She lost her balance almost immediately.

Lloyd quickly reached out and grabbed her arm. “Whoa, watch out! You can just take a chair if you wanna sit.”

“Hehe, sorry…” Colette gripped her free hand onto the railing now, but she didn’t move, instead continuing with, “But I think I know what to do about it.”

With that, Colette’s wings slowly slipped past her shoulders, their soft light slightly muted by the sunshine. He felt the tip of one of her wings tap his shoulder. Soon, she was sitting taller, more comfortably, her legs swinging from the railing. “There!”

She did it so easily, all with a wide smile. Her wings fluttered a little, reminding him of a butterfly’s own.

As the wind shifted the tree boughs near his balcony, carrying the scent of pine in the early spring, he kept his eyes on her. For so much of that first journey, Lloyd had seen her wings often. Easier to fight with, she had told him before, even when she worried how the others must have seen her. When she was numb to pain, her wings highlighted the scratches across her palms from gripping the chakrams too tightly. When she was locked away and could no longer speak, her wings were always at the ready, their once soft light seeming harsher in the dark, reflecting off eyes that never shifted or blinked.

Lloyd tapped his fingers against the railing, eyes shifting downward. “Hey, Colette. You don’t need to have your wings out for my sake.”

Between them, there were the sounds of Dirk’s hammer, the distant cry of a hawk overhead, and the continued whispering from the trees. The light of Colette’s wings stayed draped over the railing, over his hand where his Exsphere continued to rest on.

“I know you don’t want…what happened to me to happen to you too.” His wings furled inward slightly as he spoke. “So, it’s okay. Really. You don’t have to risk it.”

Colette had already suffered for her wings as they were. Why should he have to add more to that?

It was then he heard the railing creak from motion, watching as the familiar violet shade moved away from his hand. But before he could even start to feel a little lonely then, Colette had grabbed his hand—from the front.

“Remember when we used to fly together?” Colette asked him. She was flying before him, her wings gently beating, sending drifting motes of light to scatter across the earth. “Not just in Ozette… but before that? We should do it again. Let’s go and fly!”

Again, the rhythmic sound of the hammer, now followed by the gentle whines of a certain creature who must have noticed Colette hovering just above.

“Uh… did you just ignore what I was saying now?” Lloyd asked in turn, more out of befuddlement than anything else. He could usually follow Colette’s thoughts well, but still, she managed to surprise him now and then.

“Oh! No, I was listening!” Colette nodded, her face all serious to the point that her cheeks were a little puffy, a feature that Lloyd couldn’t help but find adorable. “And this is my answer!”

“So, you did ignore me.”

Colette grasped his hand close in both of her own, leaning in. Her blue irises held patterns in them, like constellations. “Lloyd, I want to use my wings with you again. I know I used to be a little worried before about it, when I told you about what Kratos mentioned to me. So, when it actually happened to you, I did try to stop using my wings. I got scared. I didn’t really understand.”

Her nearness made his heart race again, but he grasped her hand back with his. “That’s why I said it’s okay to not use yours. You shouldn’t have to because of me.”

“But what if I want to, Lloyd?” she countered, the rare hint of exasperation in her voice. “Can you believe me that I want to? Like when we used to fly up in the skies… When it felt like it was only us in the world. I know it’s selfish of me, but I liked that. I miss flying with you.”

Lloyd’s wings unfurled again, unconsciously done, but he didn’t shy away from it. He remembered seeing doves do the same, like the ones that would sometimes make their nests within a hidden corner of his rooftop.

“…I’m actually kinda nervous flying that high with these,” he admitted, clearing his throat. “I mean, I did fly to my balcony this morning! Like, from the ground…”

Colette’s fingers threaded between his own, soon reaching for his other hand. “Then you just need a little practice. Let’s get you more used to your new wings. I can teach you!”

Her excitement was getting more and more obvious, her serious face from before breaking into a grin. She gently tugged him forward, and all Lloyd could do was let her. His wings were already opening, catching the wind, feeling the way it shifted around his feathers.

“Heh, so should I call you Professor Colette, then?” he teased, just as he felt himself leave the railing. “Or, I guess it would be Professor Brunel…”

“Hm, but I like hearing you say my name, so keep the Colette part!” And with a little triumphant pull, she held Lloyd’s hands as they both hovered in the air just before his balcony, their wings beating in sync.

Lloyd gazed at her, at her wings painted against the cloudy skies, like the fragments of a stained-glass window. He swallowed a small lump in his throat, hoping it didn’t make his flight a bit unsteady. But flying had always been like this, hadn’t it? To trust yourself to not freefall through the air, to leave the stability of the ground for the uneasiness of the air.

It was exciting, when he thought about it.

“So, Professor Colette, I always wondered… How come you got so good at flying right away when you got your wings? Even when I had my old ones, I still had trouble with them.”

Colette seemed surprised by the question. Her wings beat rapidly in the air as she thought of her answer. “Hm… maybe it’s just part of my luck?”

“Haha, what? That’s not how luck works!” Lloyd tilted his head, his legs hanging down, still unconsciously searching for a floor to stand on. “I think?

“Well, I am very lucky.” She pulled him further up into the air, giggling. “Maybe my luck with flying will rub off on you!”

And she was quick, already guiding him on a flight path only she seemed to know. But she didn’t forget to wave down to Dirk below, calling out to him with a clear voice. “We’re just going out, Mr. Dirk! We’ll be back before dinner!”

“Ah, leaving me your pet to take care of, eh?” But little Blippy was already being stroked by Dirk’s great hand as he took a break from his work. The cat stared ahead, eyes wide as it craned its head up towards a flying Lloyd and Colette. Still, it didn’t reach out to them. It was very content to stay and be petted by a well-knowing hand. “Stay safe, you two!”

From the height of his balcony, his father’s shape didn’t look that much different than on ground level. But with flight came the distance, came the eventual loss of detail, until even Dirk’s beard could barely be seen. It was similar when flying atop a Rheaird, except Lloyd could turn in the air, and keep holding onto Colette’s hand, watching the trail of stardust from her wings float all around. Maybe with enough of it, her light could even make his own wings shine.

 --

At some point during the day, the clouds finally began to part—but Lloyd barely noticed. He was too busy keeping his eyes on Colette, and how her wings moved with all the ease that he wished he had.

The initial flight was shaky for him. He nearly lost his balance numerous times, and his wings would grow tired. They were no longer just made of light, but of muscle and bone. He had to rest them occasionally, stopping at a hill outcropping or a tree branch, with Colette waiting beside him until he was ready to fly once more.

“Feel like I’m not making this as fun as it used to be…” he said with a small laugh.

But Colette would only shake her head, the light from her wings darkening her hair. “It’s always fun with you, Lloyd.”

And then, she would take his hand to fly off again, over the forest he had known so well since he was a kid, watching the twisting rivers that cut through hills, and the dirt roads that wound down cliffs past an abandoned ranch, until they would reach the gates of Iselia. But they were so high up in the sky, they might have been mistaken for large birds if anyone saw them. Or at least, Lloyd was hoping for that.

He quickly identified the roof that belonged Colette’s house, spotting the well beside it, and the small backyard where they would both play swords together when they were young. Another quick glance to the right, and he thought he recognized Phaidra walking past the front door, her ash blonde hair catching the dim light of the setting sun.

Lloyd knew he’d have to see them too, with his new wings. He’d have to see the entire village, sporting the same wings as the angel that had come down on that day of the Oracle. So, he felt some relief as they flew farther past the village, Colette’s hand still holding fast to his.

But, that was also when he started to question. “Uh, where are we going anyway?”

Colette looked back at him, her hair flying about her in a golden array. “Just a little further up. How do your wings feel?”

“Eh, still kinda tired? But I guess they don’t ache as much.” So he flew with some trepidation, too anxious to really make any careless dives or twists in the air like he once used to.

His wings really did have an annoying habit of flying into things if he wasn’t careful enough, so he was little relieved they had left the forest for more open spaces. It wasn’t like before, where his wings of light could disperse whenever he felt like it. He couldn’t just land on the bough of a tree, sitting against the bark when he felt tired. Now he had to calculate just how much space his wings needed, how they would make it difficult for him to just lay back unless he folded them up properly. (Which also made it a bit hard to sleep in general!)

Then, as he flapped his wings a little hard, trying to catch the air, he winced. And with that came a little groan of frustration.

Colette noticed. “Oh, again?”

“Ugh, yeah…” He tried turning his neck but had no real luck. “These ribbons just keep getting in the way now!”

“Don’t worry, we’re almost there!”

Lloyd could barely question her what she meant exactly, his neck cricking from his ribbons restricting his movement. He could feel every flap of his wings only making it worse, until Colette guided him to land on somewhat uneven ground.

“Here, let me look.” Colette quickly moved behind him, and soon he felt her hands move aside those ribbons from his mass of feathers, a careful unwinding of thin fabric from his wingspan. “This left one really held on!”

Lloyd sighed, his shoulders drooping. “I think I’m gonna have to tell dad about getting rid of these. I can’t fly right if these ribbons keep tangling up in my wings!”

Colette straightened out the white ribbons, her fingers smoothing out wrinkles. “I think it would work if they were shorter.”

“No way, they’d just look kind of dumb if they were short.”

As he felt her still holding onto his ribbons, he looked straight ahead. In the distance, he saw the ocean, hearing the crashing of waves against a rocky shore. The sun, he finally noticed, was already going down, sinking into the ocean as the sky overhead darkened. Lloyd angled his head around, realizing just where exactly they were both standing on. He caught a glimpse of the carved opening that had been made at the top of the stone structure, from where the light of the Oracle had shone so brightly all that time ago.

The Iselia Temple? Why did she bring me here?

But Colette still seemed to be busy with his ribbons, even long after she had untangled them. She already spoke before he could ask her. “What if we tied it up?”

Lloyd immediately knew what she meant. He hesitated. “I don’t know about that…”

“But you did it for me!” Colette was doing her best to hide away her grin as she guided him to stand on one of the curved outcroppings of the temple, many of the stones enveloped by moss. She stayed behind him, straightening out those ribbons even more. “Remember, your ribbons got tangled up in my hair when I wore your outfit that one time.”

“That’s different!”

“How so?”

“Hair and wings aren’t exactly the same…” But he already felt her tugging on them, and the motion of it was nice. Almost relaxing, such as when she brushed his wings, careful with his feathers.

“Fine,”he relented. “If you really want to—”

“Oh, whoops,” Colette said with a giggle. “I was already doing it. Sorry!”

“Huh?!” Lloyd reached back around his collar, his wrist brushing against his wing. But his fingers found the knot that was made, along with the little bow that Colette had tied up nicely with his white ribbons.

“Now they won’t get in the way. Also, they look cute!”

Well, he knew he had to admit it then, especially once he tested a small beat of his wings then. “Huh, it is a lot better now! …I’m gonna need to do this for my other jackets.”

“Maybe we can have each one a different style!” Colette suggested. “I can make your Tuesday jacket have a more braid-like ribbon.”

“You sure you didn’t already do that?”

But Colette just poked out her tongue at him as a tease as she stood next to him again. Lloyd looked at how the night sky was seen through her wings, sparkling more than they ever did on their own. It took him a second to realize that it was already nighttime—had they really flown all afternoon?

“How come you wanted to come here?” he asked her. He caught sight of the crumbling stairs that led to the temple, the flagstones long overtaken by the earth. It seemed even more in disrepair, for probably ever since Colette left, no one else besides them had gone back to this holy place of Cruxis worship. Now it only crumbled, along with everything else of the old religion.

“The stars are always so clear by the temple,” she said, craning her neck upwards. “Not as well as by your house, but it’s always very dark here, so the stars shine brighter than they do when in Iselia.”

In the sky, there were patterns—different ones now, with the reunification of the worlds. How often had Colette had to stay late at the temple, counting the stars from the windows? How often had he done the same from his house, waiting until he could go back to Iselia again to see her?

Lloyd was still looking at her when he saw something then—like a trail of starlight that connected the span of her wings, from the top-most left to the bottom. He watched its travel, a movement so fast across her expanse.

“A shooting star?” Colette said, looking over in the same direction. “I wonder… what would I wish for now…?”

Lloyd knew what he once would have wished for.

When his wings had ached, had been covered in blood and made him hate the very thought of moving, he would have wished for them to be gone. He would have wished he had done things differently. He would have wished he hadn’t put Colette through so much trouble, just to care for him and his stupid mistakes.

In the night, he saw how his right wing moved to circle around Colette. A large wingspan, the feathers pulled at by the ocean breeze. They were the same color as the kitten he had dove in to rescue from the river. Whatever reason his wings had decided to change just then, he still couldn’t say. That same kitten was probably resting in his father’s lap, who mostly likely was still waiting for him and Colette to return home.

No wishes came to his head, but something else did.

Lloyd took Colette’s hand. “Fly with me.”

Colette barely had a moment before Lloyd’s wings outstretched, wider than before. Only once had he ever felt this confident with them—back when they had been of light for the very first time, and he flew off to the skies with no hesitation.

“Come on!” Grinning wide, he urged Colette to follow, rising high above, watching as her wings beat rapidly to match his speed.

“Lloyd!” she called back with a laugh. “Are you okay to fly this high up?”

High enough that even the temple seemed small, high enough that it felt like they were the only two left in the entire world.

Their flight path was of curves, and sudden dives, and over the ocean currents that made laughter break out between them. But still, he guided her higher, just enough so that he felt nothing else could be better. They finally stopped, uplifted by the winds, the twin moons shining down on them. They made the night less dark, surrounded by the stars that were so numerous, like an endless sea.

Stopping in mid-flight, he moved his hands from hers, to wrap around her waist and bring her close in an embrace. Just a few days before, he would have felt too awkward to do this, too unbalanced, too much of a mess to give her what she tried to give to him.

His wings beat softly to keep them up. Even if Colette’s wings were snuffed out at that very moment, he wouldn’t let go.

“Colette, I’m sorry I couldn’t say it back then when you kissed me.”

He felt the heat rise in her face, warm against his cheek. He watched it brighten as he moved back to look at her, her hair framed by her wings and the stars. “Ah, that was… I just did it without asking you—”

“I love you, too.”

Maybe it was cheesy to say it here, up in the skies, but he wanted a place where only Colette would hear him, where she couldn’t mistake it for anything else.

“I’ve always loved you, but I only really got it back at the Tree. It takes me so long to get anything. It’s kinda pathetic, huh? And even when I finally realized, it took me even longer to just say it. I kept you waiting this whole time, even after you told me. I’m sorry. I don’t want to keep doing that to you. I love you, Colette. I love you.”

Her kiss had been her way of telling him, the most obvious thing that even the densest person would have picked up on. He always made so much trouble for Colette.

She lowered her eyes, but her hands fidgeted. Fingers moved to slide up his collar, to thread across his hair. “Then…can you make it up to me?”

He moved closer, his forehead pressed against hers as they both floated lazily through the sky. “Yeah. What is it?”

“Can you kiss me back?”

Was it as far back as Flanoir, as far back as on his balcony before she would leave for her journey, when he first wanted to kiss her? He had loved her then, longer than he could put a single memory to it. So many times, so many moments, but it had been up to Colette to guide him. The wanting flooded through him. He could hardly even speak anymore.

Still, when Lloyd pressed his lips to hers, tasting that familiar sweetness from before, hearing the soft sounds Colette made against him, he finally felt he did something right for once in so long.

Flying had never before felt so wonderful.

[hetchiew]

🎵🩵🖇️ !!

🎵: favorite artists

I have a lot!! In alphabetical order:

AC/DC, Adam Jensen, AJR, American Authors, AURORA, Barns Courtney, Bastille, Bishop Briggs, Bohnes, Bon Jovi, Cage The Elephant, Confetti, David Kushner, DREAMERS, Fitz and The Tantrums, grandson, Jaymes Young, Jukebox The Ghost, JVKE, KALEO, K.Flay, The Lumineers, Månskin, Mother Mother, NF, Noah Kahan, OneRepublic, Queen, Saint Motel, The Score, Stellar, Tessa Violet, The Unlikely Candidates, Unlike Pluto, Valerie Broussard, WALK THE MOON, We Are Scientists, Weathers, The Wrecks, Young the Giant

They’re mostly small alternative bands!

🩵: do you have any pets?

Yup! 2 dogs and 1 cat! Technically they’re my parents’ but I still live partially at home and I grew up with them so I consider them mine too.

🖇️: what are your favorite asks to answer

I don’t know, I love all asks!! (unless they’re hate) But I’ve been wanting to share my music taste for a while so I really liked that one, thank you!!💖

[fxxftz]

( THEO JAMES, CISMALE, HE/HIM ) FELIX FITZGERALD the THIRTY TWO year old is said to remind people of sleepless nights spent drinking expensive wine & well fitted shirts with a few too many buttons undone. they are known to be LAID BACK and SECRETIVE which makes sense when you think about how they were a FRIEND of violet. but with their darkest secret being THEY ARE THE HEIR TO ONE OF THE LARGEST CRIME FAMILIES IN LONDON who knows how much longer they’ll last here. (tw: drugs, alcohol, death)

Stats

Full Name: Felix Alexander Fitzgerald

Nickname(s): Fitz

Age/Date Of Birth: Thirty Two/ 1st April 1992

Gender/Pronouns: CisMale, He/him

Height: 6''

Sexuality: Bisexual

Occupation: Socialite

Parents: Archibald & Susan Fitzgerald

Siblings: Edward(deceased), Imogen & Lottie

Personality:

Zodiac Sign: Aries

Positive Traits: Laid Back, Charming & Social

Negative Traits: Impulsive, Blunt & Reckless.

Hobbies: Jogging, Drinking Wine & Hunting

Likes: Expensive Wine, Travelling & Britpop

Dislikes: Fruity Cocktails, Rainy Weather & Cats

Biography:

Felix Alexander Fitzgerald, second born son to Archibald and Susan Fitzgerald, owners of one of the largest antiquities dealerships in Europe and well known names in London's high society.

Felix knew privilege from the very moment he was born. He grew up in a spacious townhouse in the middle of Mayfair, London, and was spoilt rotten everyday of his life.

His family's wealth came from their large antiquities business in the heart of London that was first established in the 1800s and had always remained in the Fitzgerald name, being passed down from son to son.

Felix's never took much interest in any of it. He didn't really care where his family got their money, just that he had money to spend.

When Felix was in his late teens he began using his family's wealth to throw lavish parties and took regular day trips to Paris and Milan whenever he got bored of London.

His alcohol, drug and sex fuelled parties gained a fair bit of notoriety in London, and Felix didn't show any sign of stopping.

That was until, after a long night of partying around the city getting up to who knows what, he came home to find two policemen in his kitchen, and his parents sat at the table, his mother in tears.

His eldest brother Edward had been killed. The police claimed it to be an attempted carjacking. They had found his Bentley at the side of the road just outside of the city, four gunshots to his chest.

Felix and Edward had never been close, but his brother's death hit Felix incredibly hard for some reason.

He spent weeks locked up in his bedroom, drinking and watching trash tv. The only time he was seen leaving the house was for the funeral and even then he left early to go home and be alone.

One day Felix's father came up to his room to talk to him, hoping to get him out of this rut he had gotten himself into, he hated seeing Felix in such a way, and it wasn't good for the family's image either.

He also decided to tell Felix about the real family business.

The antique business was a front. They were actually in the business of drug smuggling, fraudulent activities & general organised crime, along with dealing in some antiques.

Suddenly everything began to make sense. How such small antiques shop garnered such wealth, and how nobody ever really messed with Felix or any of his siblings, they were afraid.

His dad explained that Edward, the eldest son, had been preparing to take over from him when he eventually retired, but things had changed, Felix was now next in line.

Felix nodded along to what his father was saying, smiling, and agreeing to take the responsibility of it all one day, but internally, he was freaking out.

He had finally been pulled from his pit of self pity and grief and now all he could think was that maybe his brother's death wasn't the simple crime that it looked to be. Maybe he was murdered.

Theo packed his bags and made up some bullshit about taking a trip around Europe to travel before taking the reigns and his parents had no issue.

He fucked around in France for a few weeks, then moved on to Italy, and eventually, Spain. That's where he met Andre.

The two quickly fell pretty hard for one another, and Theo even followed him back to America to meet Andre's family. Only to find, they were also in an extremely similar business to The Fitzgerald's back home.

Felix ended things with Andre in a hurry and, knowing he still couldn't return home, found himself in Vinewood.

He bought a nice apartment in town and got a job working at The Grapevine, just to keep himself busy and fuel his love of wine.

On his first night after settling in he went for a drink at the Red Lion, and that's where he ran into Violet. The two quickly bonded over a shared love for fine wine, and Felix confided in her about his family troubles, something he had never told anyone else in Vinewood.

The two remained close friends until the day of Violet's death. When Felix heard the news it reminded him all too well of his brother's death, his first instinct being suspicion. But who would want to hurt Violet?

He's now lived in Vinewood for almost six months, he loves it here and honestly doesn't see himself leaving, no matter how many missed calls he receives from his concerned parents. He's not ready to go back and face the harsh reality of his lineage.

Other Stuff(Head Canons):

He doesn't have social media, at least he doesn't use it and will avoid being posted at all costs in case a member of his family back home see it.

He has settled down quite a bit from his party boy days but is always down for a sesh. Though his drink of choice has changed from vodka to red wine, he still knows how to have a good time.

Goes by Fitz mostly, as if it was his actual first name. Only a few people know his actual name and that's usually only because they got him drunk enough for him to reveal it.

He lives with a room mate(possible wc) but can be annoying to live with since he rarely cleans up after himself and often stays up late watching tv loudly and drinking alone.

He's a serial dater. He has all the apps and goes on several dates a month, though none tend to get past a one night stand, he's still holding out for the one.

He doesn't partake in any drug use, but has been known to smoke quite a bit when he's tipsy, and he loves cigars, especially if they're expensive and cuban.

Has a secret-ish bad temper. It takes a lot to get a rise out of Felix but when he does he can completely lose it, and was once known to get in a fair few pub fights.

tbc

Wanted Connections

Best Friend: A simple ride or die vibe, someone he can call up no matter what time and go for a drink with, and confide in about all his life woes, but still doesn't know the real Fitz just yet.

Rooomie: Fitz isn't a lazy roomie, he's just used to having somebody to clean up after his messes. He can be a little untidy and loud when he shouldn't be, but he always pays the rent on time.

Drinking Buddy: Fitz can certainly hold his own when it comes to alcohol, but somebody who can match his pace and still hold a coherent conversation would be perfect for him.

Hook Up/Fling/Exish?: He's a hopeless romantic but has yet to find his match, he loves to date and loves a cheeky hook up just as much, so it's fairly open.

ANYTHING Come hit me with plots.

[limerental]

ficletober 2022 day 30

Years after a devastating loss, Geralt manages to find someone important to him again.

content warning for suspected MCD

The cottage sank in a swathe of meadow, grass swaying along the stone path and up over the green roof. The gardens were hedged by wattle fencing and boasted a wild tangle of flowers and herbs, and a bevy of chickens pushed at one another in the dirt. 

A white cat stole under the fence, back legs stretched out and curled tail twitching as it yawned, but then, it caught sight of the stranger on the path and hissed a warning, running off puffed up twice its size.

A witch lived here, the locals said, but their voices had not held the usual vitriol toward strange magicks and aloof sorcerers. This was a friendly hedge witch, a local healer and problem solver, and in a few years, when public sentiment toward magic users grew steadily more negative, they would call her an herbalist and a medicine woman and overlook the thrum of sorcery that hung about her cottage.

The amulet on Geralt's chest buzzed with it, and he saw the little tells of folk magic everywhere. Iron nails and horseshoes and twigs tied together in auspicious shapes. 

He'd come to the right place, he knew, had followed all the directions perfectly, but now that he was here, his feet refused to move the last span of distance across the stone path. The air felt too warm, too fragrant. The leather collar of his worn coat rubbed against his neck, and the amulet hummed in a way that tickled his throat.

"This is stupid," he said to a chicken that scratched closer to him, and it tilted its head, shook its red waddle, and tutted in consideration of his boots. "There's no reason to hesitate. She's only an old witch. She's only–"

She was more than that. Of course she was.

He forced himself to approach the cottage and rapped at the weathered front door. There was a crescent moon peephole carved into the wood, but no eye appeared there, the cottage too shadowed to see anything within. Carved bones and feathers and beads hung on leather cords in the eaves above his head, clanking together in a soft breeze, but the crafter of those wards did not appear. 

Geralt was in the midst of considering whether breaking down the cottage door to investigate further would leave him with magical boils in unfortunate places, when he heard someone humming in the garden.

He passed through a handmade gate with a pulley system that would have clattered shut behind him if he did not grab and still it, and beyond a four foot high mound of squash vines and several trellises of beans, he found an old woman hunched in the dirt.

As she hummed a haunting tune, a large slug inched toward her, eyestalks trembling, and as it drew near enough, she snatched it and added it to a nearly-filled jar at her feet. Several more slugs oozed toward her leaving glistening trails, all held rapt by her soft humming, all meeting the same fate as the others.

The woman had long, heavily, curled silver hair that fell to her lower back, portions of it tied away from her face in looped braids, and she was barefoot as she kneeled, the upturned pads of her feet calloused and dark brown with earth.

Geralt cleared his throat, but the woman did not startle or pause in her work, just kept calling to the slimy garden pests until her jar was full. He waited, arms fallen still at his sides. Finally, she capped her jar, grabbed up her walling stick, and struggled up off her knees to turn to him. She stood hunched forward, braced on her staff, long hair spilling over her shoulders, and her face was lined and marked with liver spots around her temples, her jowls sagging.

Her eyes were violet, shrewd and angry.

"I could curse the eyebrows off that old bat for telling you where I am," Yennefer swore. "Margarita was under clear instructions not to–"

"It was Triss actually," said Geralt. 

"Oh, she won't be so pretty without eyebrows or teeth," the old woman spat. She shook her head and visibly aged further before his eyes, her wrinkles deepening and eyes drooping. "And what do you think of me then, Witcher? Still as beautiful? Everything you were hoping for?"

"Yen," he said and could say nothing else. He had not heard her voice in years, had not thought he would ever hear it again. "Yen, I… Yennefer."

He lifted a hand, cautious, but she let him reach to touch the pads of his fingers to her wrinkled cheek. It was easy to draw close, and she let him, easy to tip her chin up and duck low to kiss her. 

It was a familiar kiss, like coming home. Honeybees hummed above their heads, and chickens pecked at their feet.

He held the kiss for a long inward breath, and when he drew away, her violet eyes blinked glassy with tears. Beneath the cup of his palm, her cheek melted back into the face of a less aged woman, dark hair lightly streaked with silver and only a little wrinkle of crow's feet to show for her great age.

She remained hunched, spine curved down and jaw crooked under his hand.

"I did it," she said, voice wavering. "I managed it. Undid what was done when I was a girl. But I… it didn't change anything. Not really. All I can do now is hide from all of it. Pretend it happened to someone else."

It had been cripplingly difficult, the grief nearly insurmountable, after the disastrous events following the Thanned coup decades ago had stolen Ciri from them. They had searched for years, separately and together, and found no trace of her, no miracle. At last, they had been forced to admit that the explosion of Tor Lara had either turned their daughter's body to vapor or that the ruined portal had spit her out somewhere inhospitable to life.

Ciri was dead. 

Their love had soured in those years, could not survive it. Geralt buried himself in mindless work, endless hunts, and Yennefer disappeared like smoke.

Tracking her here to this cottage had taken him a very long time and no small amount of luck. Even after he had learned Triss still visited her and wheedled the information out of her, Geralt had waited to seek her out, uncertain he would be welcomed, unsure if he even wanted to find her, if they still belonged in each other's lives without Ciri.

But the world was desperately empty without Yennefer. His daily life was arduous and meaningless. Ciri's memory grew more and more distant, the father he had been someone separate from the aimless beast he became. The man who had loved the both of them disappearing the same way Yennefer had.

Geralt pressed his forehead to Yennefer's, breathed in her familiar scent.

"Missed you, Yen," he said simply. "It's good to see you."

"You won't drag me back with you, Geralt," she said. "This is my life now. I'm not the same as I was. I can't be."

"I know," said Geralt. "Me neither."

He barely recognized himself some days. That man was long dead, the one who had loved a little girl and sworn to protect her and failed horribly. He did not quite recognize this stooped and domestic Yennefer, who had laughed at his distant dreams of building a simple home for them, raising livestock, playing house.

"It can't go back to how it was before," said Yennefer, shaking her head. She adjusted her grip on her curved staff and rolled her aching shoulders. "It's impossible. I won't go with you."

"I know," he repeated and asked instead, "can I stay?"

The little white cat had crept up while they were speaking and sat a short distance away, blinking at her mistress and the ugly stranger with the unnerving emanations. Deciding something, she stalked over with her tail raised, meowing, and wove between the stranger's legs. When he stooped to pet her, she politely ignored the tingling of his mutated fingers and rubbed her head against his gloved palm.

The witch and the stranger went into the cottage and prepared for dinner. 

Geralt mumbled that he hoped the jar of slugs wasn't on the menu, and Yennefer threatened to dump it down the back of his shirt. They baked a meat pie with chicken and potatoes and flakey crust and ate a misshapen cake for dessert. 

Then, they turned in together and made love the way they used to, except slower now and quiet, with no artifice and no fumbling. When they finally slept, the white cat curled on the quilt at the foot of their bed and trod on their faces to wake them in the morning.

Their life was simple. Some moments were heavy and weary and pained, but in time, they spoke about her freely, their daughter, and honored her memory and lived on as they were now. Different, changed, but no less able to keep going and find joy and feel whole again.

And one day, a visitor leading a black horse came up the stone path toward the cottage, and a little white cat ran, purring, to greet her.

[desert-bluffs-and-me]

WTNV quick rundown - 87 - The Trial of Hiram McDaniels

Realised I haven't put a direct link to all of these on a post for a while, so here it is!

Numbers don’t lie. But humans using numbers lie all the time. Welcome to Night Vale.

We finally get to see Hiram's fate at the hands of the newly created NV judicial system. He is deemed guilty on all accounts and Judge Azdak sentences him to death. This is a sentence which surprises both lawyers (both Troy Walsh) and even Cecil seems upset that law works this way, especially the Violet head who was technically innocent.

Halfway through the trial, the human jury members are replaced with Strangers.

Dana is a witness, but tells 'everything' as in, all the secrets she as mayor is obliged to keep. Many watching the trial flee in horror so they don't learn anything and even Judge Azdak puts on noise cancelling headphones (that all judges have so they don't have to hear anything too uncomfortable). Only Hiram listens with interest.

 Weather: "Cocaine" by Holy Moly

The classfieds: Big Rico's is hiring a new cashier. The classified advertising such hints at a 'wheat speakeasy'. A man called Richard has lost his wife, but is also mad at the idea of people seeing strange things. Someone has lost a cat which might actually be the sun or the moon. The Woman from Italy leaves a classified suggesting that next time she won't be so merciful.

The Night Vale Parks Department, after a multi-year, 5 million dollar repair and renovation project re-opens the pyramid destroyed Beatrix Lohman Memorial Meditation Zone. It has state of the art equipment now. It was funded by a tax against school children for each day they attended, and was three years and 4.9 million dollars overbudget.

The NV airport is going to start trying to make international flights (despite being exceedingly tiny), including to plays like Svitz, Mexico and Double Mexico. Cecil mentions how he would like to go on holiday, possibly somewhere tropical.

Martin McCaffry, local TSA rep, shakes his head and rolls his eyes at the questions. He then shows that he has hundreds/thousands, of hand drawn sketches depicting a strange elongated dark figure crawling out of a kitchen refrigerator. He asks who had been leaving one of these on his pillow every morning.

Stay tuned next for the awful void of your own doubts and feelings. Good night. I guess.

Proverb: "Them’s the brakes, kid,” said the most annoying driving instructor ever.

[movedtoferinehuntress]

⌜ ♥ @angelicaaster ⌟ ―― Caitlyn ► 𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 = ❝ sunflower :   what brings your muse the most joy in life ? ❞

L asked the most innocent question as she walked along the dirt path of the gardens. The spring weather gave warmth to the blossoms as sunrays gleamed down upon the land, but not too hot to make it unbearable like the summer edge. Birds chirped and tweeted with brilliant songs as the hint of love danced on the winds of time. Butterflies migrated to flower patches, greeting them like old friends would each spring solstice. The world lived with brilliant colors of plum and azure flowers blossoming on deep emerald vines and bushes. Every hint of spring danced before the eyes as Caitlyn smiled at the question.

"What brings me the most joy in life? That's like asking someone what their favorite food could be," Caitlyn hummed softly as she glanced up toward the pink blossoms that started to bloom along the branches of the great tree. It had been planted over a decade ago, reaching the grand age of one hundred a fifty-two to this day. "Listening to the birds sing in the trees and sitting among the violets of my garden. To listen to my cat purr as she sits on my chest or play my violin at the peak evening hours. Sitting on top of my room as the moon makes its appearance and the stars glisten all around it," Caitlyn started to list a few things that brought her joy, simple things in life that many might not think about or easily forget in their attempt of progress and science.

But what brought her the most joy? "It would have to be watching Vi. I'm not talking about sitting across the table and watching her eat or her telling me stories. Which mind you, I absolutely adore. But, what really makes me happy is when she doesn't notice me watching. When she is on the edge of the balcony, crouched on the railing and just basking in the sunlight. Her eyes will close and she just stretches out her head like a cat bathing in it. Or how she'll wander around the garden, sometimes punching a few trees not out of anger but instinct; keeping herself on par. What I love is getting to see Vi happy, smiling without hesitation, and truly enjoying her life. She has suffered far too long and has had a far harsher life than anyone could ever imagine in Piltover. Even the lowest house has the benefit of living in the sun, but Vi had to fight to come topside, every single day," Caitlyn paused for a moment as she reached out toward one of the tall pine trees and saw the indented marks where Vi's fist had made an impression. She traced along the top where her knuckles would have landed, deep into the bark as she smiled softly.

"What brings me the most joy, is seeing Vi happy, and knowing that I will do anything to ensure that happiness. She deserves so much more than what the world has given her, and I am determined to make sure the world does not take it away from her again,"

[ocean-in-my-rebel-soul]

happy friday!! how about "Violet bruised eyes" from the sensory prompts for Rhiona?

Thank you, lovely! Here's some Cousland/Loghain for you!

Rating: Gen

@dadrunkwriting

-:- -:- -:-

He's so different now.

Rhiona watches Loghain from across the dwindling light of their small fire, night long since fallen. Dressed in his armor, he's carving something from a stick found on the edge of camp. Flakes of wood fall with each stroke of the knife held in his large, steady hands.

He wears more frown lines now. He looks older than he is. His eyes, violet-bruised and dark in his weathered face, carry pain not unfamiliar to Rhiona. Loghain's shoulders, so proud and strong before, bear a weight too big for his frame. It makes the conflicted feelings inside her war against each other--not that she expected them to do anything else.

He doesn't look up when he says, "You're staring, Rhiona."

"So I am," she admits reluctantly.

Rhiona smooths her hands on her trouser-clad thighs. Her cuirass lays loosened upon her body, the unbuckling a slight measure of comfort from the long day of foraging for dinner to save rations. They didn't go out together--Rhiona and Alistair had agreed early on that one warden should stay in camp with the other going with the foragers to hunt and gather, all for safety's sake. There was warm pride in Loghain's eyes when she made it clear that was the deal when he'd come with them--but leaving him at camp had almost driven her to distraction anyway, having to force herself not to leave her attention behind her.

Loghain huffs and puts his whittling down. "What do you see?" he asks quietly. His blue-grey gaze lights on her face with a physical weight to it, curious and heavy.

So many things run through her mind. He's an attractive man, even into his fifties as he is. There's the obvious: his hands, strong and graceful as they'd held her the night they spent together at Ostagar; his mouth, which had been so plush against Rhiona's own; his back, where her nails had raked furrows in the deep hours of the night.

There's the less obvious. The way his mouth shapes her name. The strength in his limbs and spine. The wounded respect she can see in his eyes when he looks at her.

"I see my husband, but for the start of the war." Her voice doesn't shake, for which she's grateful.

Loghain sucks in a surprised breath. "We aren't those people anymore--you know as well as I do."

"I know," Rhiona sighs. She looks into the fire quietly. It crackles and breaks logs like bones, sucking out the marrow.

Five or so minutes into her reflection, she speaks again. "I think I miss it, to be honest."

"Rhiona."

It falls from his lips, a punched out, wounded little noise. Loghain sets his craft aside. Hands on his knees, he looks at her with an expression of pure hurt, so alien on his face. "You can't just--we can't--"

"You think I don't know that?" she asks incredulously. "That I'm so foolish?" Rhiona shook her head, her braided hair thumping her shoulders. "I still have dreams about our wedding, Loghain. I still have dreams of you. Even now, with you in my camp, with you just a few strides away. Do you really think I don't know that things are different? Just look at us."

She begins ticking off her fingers. "We can barely spend time together, let alone actually be alone with each other. You hardly look at me anymore. You only talk to me for business, not for pleasure, and I can't bring myself to try, either."

He drops his gaze, scrubbing a hand down his face. "I don't think that," he says quietly. Loghain rises to his feet with a cat's ease and grace. He skirts around the fire to her side and reaches out for her hand. "I don't think that at all, Ree."

Heart fluttering painfully in her chest, Rhiona looks from his face to his outstretched hand and back before taking it. She lets him help her to her feet, ending up far closer than they'd been since Ostagar, hardly a breath between them, hands clasped together. The bumping of metal on metal, their armor brushing together, accompanies the motion. "Then what do you think, Lo?" she asks softly.

The world comes to a hush. The fire fades out, the rustling of the forest ceases. Even the breeze falls to a standstill. He cautiously reaches to palm her cheek, and she lets him, against all reason. There's a sadness to his eyes as he looks at her. Loghain brushes his thumb across the jagged scar that rakes from her cheekbone to her jawline.

"I think I miss you, too."

He bends down to kiss her, brushing his lips cautiously against her own. Stunned, Rhiona wraps her arms around his neck and leans into it as best her armor allows, into the way his mouth moves against hers, how his tongue slides along the seam of her mouth. She opens to him, because of course she does, her and her stupid heart and stupid mouth and Loghain with his stupid presence that does something to her.

Loghain's hands fall to her waist. It's painfully familiar, but even after nearly a year, Rhiona's still not ready to let go. We can make this work, she nearly whispers into his mouth. We can take our lives back.

We can have each other again.

It's a silly thought, she tells herself. She clings to him as if he were a fading dream. Perhaps he is. Perhaps this is just a momentary lapse of judgment, forgotten with the dawn. Her hands clutch at his nape, the fear of losing this once more trembling in her fingertips.

He gently pulls out of the kiss to lay his forehead against hers. "I've missed you. Every day. When you went missing, everything changed. I've lost so many people, Ree; when I lost you, it was like losing a part of myself again."

"You're a part of me too, Loghain," she murmured back. "Which is why it was so scary, your men trying to track us. It felt like a death sentence in the making. I couldn't bear it, trying to outrun you at every turn. Everything in me wanted to march to Denerim myself to find you, to do whatever i could to help end the stirrings of civil war. It was what I owed Ferelden."

She quiets for a moment. Her eyes mist over with a year of unshed tears. "It was what I owed you."

"You don't owe me anything. You never have. I gave myself freely when I asked for your hand."

Rhiona laughs wetly. She breaks the spell and steps away, putting distance between them, her gaze caught on the lingering flames and embers of the run-down fire. "Maker, the things you still do to me," she mutters, wiping her eyes. He moves into her peripheral vision, still in reaching distance if she turned toward him.

"I'm...sorry. I overstepped."

"Don't be," she replies, blushing furiously. Rhiona turns to face him and grasps his wrist. "Loghain, I..." She trails off, unsure. Looking up toward the sky reveals the moon steadily traveling, hours winding by, bringing his turn on watch to a close. Hesitation melts into longing in her chest, and her very skin yearns to touch him.

"It's cold," she says finally. The statement is punctuated by a stiff breeze that catches her breath in her throat.

"So it is." He gives the slightest shiver. He always did seem to be impervious to the cold; it was suddenly so humanizing to see one now.

"Your watch is almost over."

Loghain looks at her, purposefully neutral. "That is correct."

Annoyance at his obstinance begins to bubble in her chest. Surely he knows what she is asking--how could he not? Must she always be so blunt in his presence, must she always ask baldly for what she wants?

Yes, she tells herself, sighing mentally. He is not a mind-reader. He appreciates directness, a 'say-exactly-what-you-mean' kind of man. She knows this.

"Come with me," Rhiona says slowly. She watches his face. It relaxes, bit by bit, as he considers. He doesn't answer immediately, and her stomach twists.

He sighs and palms her cheek once more with his free hand. "I will."

"Okay."

It comes out on a whisper. She hadn't really expected him to say yes. It had been the wall she'd run herself into time and again, that he didn't want her. And now...

Her hand lifts up to find his. They lace their fingers together easily, just like old times.

Hope blooms dangerously in her chest. "Okay," she says again, relief coursing through her. There, in the darkness of her tent, perhaps they can find each other again.

[yzeltia]

In the Purrsuit of Happiness

Chapter 6: Rhalgr's Returrn Characters: Y'zel Tia, G'raha Tia Rating: T Notes: References And the Thunder Rolled...

"Jannie would be an excellent companion for this venture. And perhaps Violet too…though she would most likely not see the merit in it. It's a shame they're in Thavnair," G'raha said as he dug through volumes of children's works alongside Y'zel.

"You've mentioned that. More than once. If you are missing your friends, maybe you should send them a letter or return to Sharlayan. You've been a great help but I can manage," the pink-haired Miqo'te insisted.

"Nonsense! We've only just begun our quest! If  Violet were here though we could ask your father…"

Y'zel grimaced at the idea. "I don't believe they could have gotten far."

"Yet you can not say for sure that is the case."

The researcher seized for a moment, heart sinking. Quietly he returned to flipping through books.

"Apologies. I did not mean to dampen your spirit. I'm sure we'll recover the pages," G'raha offered, flicking his tail to coil around the other's.

Y'zel shivered as he felt the electricity from the embrace flood all his senses. He tried to pull himself free, but only tightened the bond. Standing, he crossed his arms over his chest.

"I'd like some air," he breathed up, getting the release he desired.

"Ah. I'll be here," G'raha sang.

And so the two parted company, Y'zel heading back upstairs and outside to the overgrown courtyard. Heading off to the sides, he chased away a bifericeras then secluded himself in a corner. Rain had started, and though he didn't mind the growing mist, he'd prefer not to return wet.

Thunder rumbled as well, though he didn't shrink away. Instead, he closed his eyes, thinking of a stormy night not too long ago.

"I'm just an alley cat Kitter. I don't belong to anyone…save your tears Kitter….just come to bed and I'll hold you…they meant nothing…come on, don't cry."

Y'zel swallowed, wanting to burying the memory. As he shook, the sharp snap of paper echoed through the yard. As he looked up a piece of parchment violently tumbled in the wind, before spiraling down to strike him in the face. He peeled the page off then lit up as he poured over the familiar text.

Upon an Era long ago,

A falcon flew through the sky.

Away from his master's domain,

A tear in his far seeing eye.

Long had he loved his master's gardens

Beds violets and roses in bloom.

Yet much to his horror he'd spied,

the Destroyer's crushing them to their doom.

And so he made his new home

In a forest, upon a high spire,

Until one day a storm came

And set the shroud on fire.

Once more again did we weep,

And cursed the Destroyer above.

For he felt Rhalgar's wrath,

Was sundering all he loved.

From the Heaven of Thunder high,

did the god hear his favored bird,

And so he descended down,

And asked the falcon to hear his word.

"Fret not little one,

Can you see in the ash below?

The forest may have died,

But now anew, it doth grow."

"But that is not all!"

The falcon did protest.

"You were killing your roses,"

He cawed, puffing out his chest.

The Destroyer shook his head,

And returned the Falcon on high,

Back to his beloved gardens,

Where he saw his roses die.

Yet instead he found,

Even more roses blooming than before

And so Rhalgar did explain,

"That all things die and return, sometimes more."

Y'zel folded his ears in relief, hugging the page to his chest, protecting it from further weathering. As the storm picked up, he shook off the rain, letting himself be soaked through as he returned inside. He shook his tail out once inside, but rather than taking time to dry properly, he awayed to G'raha in the library below.

"I found a page," the two said in unison, holding out their finds.

The two wiggled their ears in mutual excitement as they spied the opposite's parchment, yet before they could inquire further, the building was cast into darkness.

[the-owl-tree]

darktail or sasha for ur ask game :}}c

sexuality headcanon

both are bi to me

gender/pronouns headcanon

mm......dont know gender but i would say she/her sasha & he/they darktail

rate them out of ten

9/10 for sasha, darktail.... 7/10

favorite thing about them

i think sasha's just an interesting character right off the bat, someone who caught the attention of tigerstar and got pulled into this horrible relationship and finally escaped. You really do feel for her when she's left to raise three kits all by herself and constantly has to choose between keeping them fed and being able to watch them.

i like Darktail as a villain and i like that he utilizes the lake, something that the clan's all live by is his greatest weapon. Drowning is scary to me so i'm probably biased lol OH and i like his moment of trying to connect with Violet

least favorite thing about them

for Sasha probably the lack of closure for her? i guess it's a double-edged sword, i kind of wish we got to learn more what happened to her and if she got the happy ending she deserved.

darktail....probably his backstory? it comes out of nowhere and doesn't add too much to anything. I'd also say the kin as a group are kind of generic bad group who hate old people, i think they could've done more with a group trying to emulate the Clans.

why i first started liking/disliking them

Sasha's manga series which i liked!! and for Darktail.....idk i think he just had enough presence in the beginning that i enjoyed what he brought to the table

do i relate/project onto/kin them?

mmm.....nah

favorite quote/moment

sasha and russetfur bonding during the hunt and when darktail drowns needletail, great scene all in all

my fav ship

sasha/scourge, sasha/smoke, sasha/russet

you have me intrigued by darktail/spiresight tho, other than that i can't see Dark with anyone

my fav platonic friendship

sasha and pine, sasha and feather (rip that)

hmm....in a bizarre way Darktail and Violetshine?? that moment where he tries to like relate to her kind of intrigued me but eh

a ship i hate

mmm no strong feelings

do i prefer canon or fanon?

canon sasha, bits and pieces of fanon darktail

random headcanon

sasha ended up with some new housefolks to take care of her or she ended up meeting the church cats and chilled there until her death

darktail's actually a rather clumsy fighter and has to go for low blows (rain's eye), have some cats accompany him, or lead the battle to the water so he can use it to his advantage)

what color do i picture them as

sasha as a toasty brown, darktail as white

cat breed headcanon

sasha as a siamese, darktail is just a fluffy boy

unpopular opinion

hmmmm......idk i don't get sasha hate tbh i just don't think she's done anything to warrant being despised. i can't even like go against her for dropping her kids off at riverclan because that's just what the erins needed for their evil brother good brother plot

darktail.....idk what's unpopular with him

things i associate with them

sasha: fireplace, sweaters, kindle

darktail: drowning, water, daddy issues

song i associate with them

hhmmmm for sasha ptolemaea by ethel cain, for darktail sense, sensibilities by ajj

favorite MAP/PMV/AMV with them

sasha - a love song to finance, a baby for sasha, hey little songbird (we need more hadestown music being used)

darktail - sweater weather, kiss me, son of god

[spiritwarriorssonic]

Wish you were Here

Ise is the least developed out of the girls, although not the most recent to be made (That is Naida). So here's something characterizing her!

The pale blue cat trotted through the forest. The sunlight caught the lavender streaks tracing along the tips of her ears and the lavender undertones of her fur.

She wasn't open and friendly, to be accurate. As a child, she'd been a wallflower, visible only to those who bullied her. They did it because nobody would notice. If they did, they didn't care to help her.

Except Satomi.

Ise remembered her only friend. Soft pale pink fur, a soft-spoken personality, and the pale green eyes that were normally unfocused with impossible dreams. Dreams that were impossible because of the sickness ravaging her frail body.

As children, they had imagined monsters under the stairs and beds of the other girls and fought back. Others had been bewildered at the attraction between the argumentative little kitten and the timid one.

As they grew older, Satomi lost her strength. She soon was too frail to continue the games they played.

Satomi never got better.

Now she was where Ise couldn't continue fighting the monsters with her.

Ise stepped over a fallen log with tears pricking her pale violet eyes. She would never cry at home, because nobody saw anything but an argumentative girl who was flat-out rude to anyone she met.

That was only because she wasn't ready to let anyone else in yet. She couldn't forget Satomi or replace the only girl who had seen past the defensiveness.

Ise reached her destination.

A beautiful clearing, with a weeping willow lowering its softly whispering boughs over a small pond. At the base of the tree was a photo, now tattered with weather, framed with leaves carved out of wood. The carving of the veins on the leaves was smoother than they once were, thanks to the rain and wind that occasionally battered at them.

This was where Ise sat, before the picture of the timidly smiling face. Tears finally escaped.

"Hi Satomi. I wish you were here. I don't know how much longer I have to be here, with this ice and these monsters that can only be weak to the light you gave off without powers."

"I wish you were here, Satomi."

[resmarted]

me surrounded by a hospital bed full of fresh flowers and the most delicate and delicioue little handcrafted queen's violet and rose cream candies specially brought over from london whilst i lounge around lecturing random lurkers on the dangers of faking compassion and also hallucinating my cats jumping around in this darkened room while also fantasizing about all the cigarettes and booze i can't have (and don't even really necessarily want, but it's the sudden lack of option that is maddening). i should just move to london. like i only eat fish and chips and indian food and my comedy likely translates the best with fellow gloomy weather loving, unimpressed snobs that hate people places and things. i feel like if i didn't eat so much food in this country (our ingredients are banned literally everywhere else) i would instantly get to enjoy all the other fun vices without peril. like why can't i just enjoy bourbon and unflitered cigs ffs. the only thing is there does not seem like nearly enough black people for my liking. nor urban riffraff that american grit is built off the backs from. i know uk has their own low income zones but i need like a real authentic level of poverty, crime and violence to feel safe. i can't sleep without gun shots going off and crackhead fights all throughout the night like it feels so creepy and weird to go too long without the white noise of st. claude avenue. i did quit cigs and whiskey sometime last year btw, with the occasional exception during rare social and bar outings. same goes for weed earlier this year with the exception of buying a preroll while drunk, but nowhere near the way i once smoked. my life has been pretty meh ever since tho. anyway every now and then i conclude the only places that could essentially handle me aside from new orleans are new york and london and vague european places that are close enough for visiting within the territories without having to commit to being stuck there beyond a vacation. def need to live where there are still sneakers hung over telephone wires. or is that just a story i like to tell myself? plus at this point the only way i can repair my evergrowing debt toward my sister is having a house in london for her to visit and live as she pleases since i could end up extremely well off one day and still need to be fully raised into my late 90's like a lost little child who can never seem to figure out how the banking system works.