#Félix

[chic-a-gigot]

Les Modes : revue mensuelle illustrée des arts décoratifs appliqués à la femme, no. 94, vol. 8, octobre 1908, Paris. La Robe-Manteau de Zimmermann. Dans ses diverses transformations. (Modèle breveté S.G.D.G.) Photos Félix. Bibliothèque nationale de France

[gogmstuff]

1908 (April issue) Les Modes - Costume tailleur (jupe sans couture) par Linker & Co - photo by Félix, del.. From gallica.bnf.fr; fixed spots & flaws w Pshop 1519X2209.

[heartnosekid]

🐈 the name félix 📘

for @yo-gummy-sharks!

📘-🐈-📘 / 🐈-📘-🐈 / 📘-🐈-📘

[digitalfashionmuseum]

Brown velvet dinner dress, 1889, French.

Designed by Auguste and Emile Poussineau for Felix.

National Gallery of Victoria.

https://www.ngv.vic.gov.au/explore/collection/work/117075/

[emsylcatac]

Do you think that Amélie knows/knew that her son was made with magic and is a sentimonster? From Félix and Kagami's little play, we see Colt using the peacock but we don't see Amélie playing a part in it or being asked about it.

In the episode "Félix", Amélie asks for the Graham de Vanily rings back, but she doesn't necessarily seem aware that they're Adrien's amok (unless she wanted to use them to free Adrien of his father's control but I have doubts).

We don't exactly know of the abuse she probably went through when with Colt, but I think if she knew he could control her son she wouldn't have been too happy with it and would have tried to do something about it - then again she might not have had much of a choice.

So yeah maybe now she knows, or she still doesn't, but I feel like while she was with Colt she just wasn't aware of it. I could definitely see him going behind her back about it, especially since he didn't seem too proud to use magic. And unlike Emilie and Gabriel who used Emilie's emotion of love to create Adrien, it's quite obvious that Colt used his own jealousy to create Félix, not involving Amélie at all

[vole-euse]

ODDINARY

[sophietisthebest]

Sophie with Felix and Liu Yifei

[inkmachine7]

I have drawn the boys (and Chalice) as humans :3

[chuova]

✿ う ─ 𝗂 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗎𝖻𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎r 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽 𓈈 ❁

[chic-a-gigot]

Les Modes : revue mensuelle illustrée des arts décoratifs appliqués à la femme, no. 71, vol. 6, novembre 1906, Paris. Robe de bal, par Buzenet. Photo Félix. Bibliothèque nationale de France

[gogmstuff]

1908 (June issue) Les Modes - Maillot de théatre et de ville par Mme Guillot (corset mystère) - photo by Félix. From gallica.bnf.fr; fixed flaws & spots w Pshop 1452X2094

[friend-myth-kill]

Friend: befriend them Myth: mythologize them/worship them/they can't kill me if they aren't real Kill: kill them

[fidjiefidjie]

Méli-melo de dessins 😁 🤭

Dessins de presse de Chaunu, Félix, Goubelle.

👋 Bel après-midi

[liv45no]

Interviewer: so how did you and Félix get together?

Kagami: I was about to throw a chair at him but he has huge green eyes and I’m a sucker for those

[emsylcatac]

good evening, short Adrien & Félix post S5 finale fic hurt/comfort:

* * * * *

Adrien’s fists pounded on the door repeatedly, in a synchronised rhythm with the breath he was trying to catch. He figured he could have taken the lift, but the adrenaline and blind anger had surged him to take the stairs – standing still was not an option. And the door wasn’t opening fast enough.

“Félix!” he shouted, punctuating each word with a fist on the door, “open. the. door!”

The small, currently extremely tiny part of him that was still somehow rational, the one that had reminded him that his cousin did not need to find Astrochat bursting into his room through the window, told him that ringing the bell would be a better and far more efficient option. But Adrien had already listened to his level-headed side once by coming through the front door of the Londonian apartment, and estimated it was more than enough considering what his emotions could bear at the moment.

Besides, the pain he felt coursing through his knuckles and hand more intensely with each punch felt good.

“I don’t care if your girlfriend’s here and you’re busy smooching her right now, you better open that door or else I’ll—”

The words died on his tongue as the door swung open, his fist nearly colliding with Félix’ stoic face.

“Adrien. How did you get here?” he greeted, voice emotionless.

Adrien was glad Félix had at least the decency of not asking what he was doing here.

“You knew,” he spat instead of answering, storming inside the apartment as Félix took a single step aside to let him in. “You knew, and you didn’t tell me!”

Félix’ brows raised slightly. “Knew what?” He asked carefully.

Adrien nearly growled. Félix didn’t get to measure his words, like he had no idea what he meant — like he was testing whether Adrien had the full picture, or just one of the many things he’s hidden from him.

“Don’t play dumb with me,”  Adrien jabbed a finger in his chest, “you know exactly what I’m talking about. Nathalie told me everything,” he said, and oh no, he could feel the knot mounting in his throat and the start of tears pricking his eyes.

Adrien didn’t want to cry in front of poised, ever-so-collected Félix. He couldn’t handle his snarky comments at the moment.

“She told me about my father, she told me about the–the r-rings…” he shook his hand wearing said rings in Félix’ face to show him he knew perfectly well what he was talking about, “...everything!”

Adrien took a deep breath, trying to regain control of his emotions. 

As predicted, Félix remained impassive. “She did? Oh, good.”

Adrien spluttered. “Good? Good?! That’s it? That’s all you have to say?!”

Félix raised an eyebrow, and went to pick a deck of cards on the coffee table. “What else do you want me to say?” he replied, turning back to Adrien, passing the cards from one hand to the other with ease. “Congratulations? It’s about time?” He stopped playing with the cards and opened his arms. “Welcome to the club?”

Adrien clenched his fists. “How about ‘I’m sorry for not telling you about your father being a supervillain and about yourself being his sentimonster puppet, my dear cousin whom I loooove and respect and hated to lie to?’” he sneered.

Félix switched to splitting his deck of cards in two, then slotting them back together with his thumbs. Adrien would find impressive the ease with which he smoothly reunited the two piles into one if he wasn’t feeling so betrayed. As it was, his little magician shuffling only infuriated him all the more.

“It’s not that easy”, Félix said after having shuffled his cards three times.

Adrien scoffed. “Oh, really?” he crossed his arms. “It’s not like you never visited or didn’t have my number. But I guess it was much more entertaining to leave me in the dark and watch me stupidly struggle to even dare to say "no" to my father while you very nicely called me his puppet to my face.”

He hadn’t forgotten that comment the first time Félix had visited after his father and Adrien’s mother had passed. It had hurt at the time — it hurt even more now, to know that Félix had been taunting him with information and a freedom he hadn’t known he didn’t possess.

Félix stared silently in his eyes, and for the first time since he got there, Adrien thought he caught the flicker of an emotion he couldn’t quite pitpoint in the green of his gaze.

“You weren’t ready,” he spoke in a softer tone, and resumed shuffling his cards again.

Adrien let out a broken laugh that ended in a half sob. He could feel his blood boiling, the anger and despair that had been coursing through him since he learnt everything exploding out of his body like a sudden gust of wind. 

“But you were?!” he nearly cried. “Of course you think that you, who’s always sooo collected and so sure of yourself, were ready to learn everything. But I, your stupid, emotional and pathetic cousin, aren’t ready to know anything or least I’ll cry!”

Despite his best efforts, Adrien finally felt a few treacherous tears escape his eyes. He bit his knuckles, hoping it’d make them stay in, and looked straight into Félix’ ones, daring him to voice a single comment.

But Félix kept silent instead, and Adrien found no trace of mockery in his eyes. He put the cards back on the coffee table.

“I wasn’t.” Félix finally whispered, a slight tremble in his voice. “I wasn’t ready when I discovered it.” His gaze dropped to the ring on his finger.

His Amok, Adrien figured.

He startled at his admission. Suddenly, he could name which emotion was shyly dancing in  Félix’ eyes: shame.

“It’s not that I think you wouldn’t have been capable of handling it all,” Félix continued quietly. “In fact,” he let out a dry chuckle, and met his eyes once more, “I’m quite convinced you would have handled it far better than I did.”

Adrien thought about how much colder and distant Félix had seemed after losing their parents. About how he’d purposefully hurt him, and his friends. About how he’d decided to erase everyone who wasn’t like them, and create a cruel world where he thought they’d be happy. He thought about Félix’ jealousy, and his quest for revenge; his desire for freedom and for love.

“But it doesn’t mean you had to,” Félix breathed. 

And as Félix gazed at him with uncertainty, Adrien saw him. A broken boy who’d had to carry too much way too soon, and was struggling to recover from it all. And he understood.

He didn’t try to stop his tears this time, and did the only thing he could think of: he took his cousin in his arms.

He cried and cried, hugging Félix tightly, letting him think he was pathetic if he wanted — he couldn’t care less anymore. Adrien didn’t know if Félix was crying too, but he was hugging him back just as tightly, just as sincerely. It reminded him of a time that seemed long, so long ago, when they were close and the best of friends, and Adrien hadn’t known how much he’d missed that until now.

“My father was Monarch,” Adrien sobbed.

“I know,” Félix’ muffled voice replied.

“He–he’s dead,” he hiccuped, completely at a loss as to what to feel about the fact in regards to everything new he had just learnt.

“I know,” Félix whispered back.

“I’m a sentimonster,”  Adrien kept on. “We’re both sentimonsters.”

“I know,” Félix repeated again, and Adrien felt his hand rub timid circles on his back. “I’m sorry.”

Adrien hugged him tighter. He let all the tears in his body carry away his anger and pain, let himself be drained of all energy, until he couldn’t cry anymore. 

“Do you think… Do you think I was ready?” Adrien asked in a raspy voice after a while. “To…to learn everything now?”

A few seconds passed.

“You’re free,” Félix eventually spoke against his shoulder. “Your father is gone. You have people who love you and support you, and who make you happy. I think you… I know you’ll be fine.”

And Adrien knew he was right.

[tokachithewarrior2]

Tokachi escojo ser violenta

@felix0w0

@soutenir-les-artistes