#melodie marquet

[kaitlinj16]

VC Andrews' Flowers In The Attic

Main Characters & Their Signs

🖤🖤🖤

[finelinefae]

the regretful man

part 2 of the other woman

synopsis: harry is the regretful man who just needs to be loved

word count: 4.9k

contains: angst, smut?? if u could even call it that? (p in v, one night stand), smoking, mentions of alcohol

a/n: from me to you! happy new year !

. . .

Harry stood at the end of the aisle as people gathered to stand in the pews of the small church. Quiet chatter fell upon the families as they sat on opposite sides, eagerly awaiting for the ceremony to begin. He had double-checked the pockets of his suit to ensure he had everything with him to go perfectly. 

The best man nodded his head at the officiate who raised his hand and asked for everybody to stand. Harry got into position as the piano began to play a gentle melody and the doors to the church opened. 

In walked the bride with her arm looped with her father’s. Harry turned to face them both, capturing the sight of the families whose eyes were shining with tears and proud smiles. He held the camera to his eye and snapped a few shots of the bride before turning towards the groom who no longer looked nervous but relieved at the site of the woman he was going to marry.

Harry had lost count of the number of weddings he had photographed since leaving University ten years ago. He was thirty one now and over the years he had found himself enthralled in the world of wedding photography after setting up his own studio. 

It wasn’t the career he had imagined for himself when he was an art student all those years ago. He had all these plans to be much bigger, more creative and artistically free, but fear became the better of him and he opted for the safer route - the one that kept a roof over his head. 

As much as Harry’s job made other people happy, he couldn’t seem to find that happiness in himself. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt proud or fulfilled by the photographs he had taken. They’d become much too formulaic, people hired him because they liked his style and wanted it for themselves and he was beginning to grow tired of it.

After every wedding he promised himself he would move on to something new whatever that meant. Maybe he’d travel and start a blog or try and get into the fashion industry. Yet after every wedding, he’d find himself trapped in another and then another, until his ambitions of achieving something new were nothing but tiny dots in the distance. 

Maybe this was where he was meant to be. 

Taking pictures of love when the irony was he had never felt true love himself. 

He sighed when the picture he took of the exchanging of the rings turned out blurry, quickly snapping a lazy shot once more to Photoshop later. 

. . . 

Although Harry had slowly fallen out of love with his passion for photography, there was no denying that the perks of an open bar were high on the list of benefits he received in his line of work. 

The reception was loud and crowded, more people had arrived and filled up the marquet that was decorated with fairylights and a dance floor in the middle. Harry was a frequent visitor to the bar where they were serving wedding-themed cocktails that he had tested each one for himself. 

His camera hung heavily around his neck. Occasionally, he would peek through the viewfinder to observe people and guess what they were up to—a game he enjoyed when the reception got too rowdy. If the mood struck him, he often didn't mind going home with someone or spending the night in their hotel room nearby. 

Harry hadn’t been in a committed relationship for longer than a year. His longest standing girlfriend was his most recent ex who left him to move to Thailand with a group of people she had met. He wondered if it was his fault that people wouldn’t stay. Maybe there was something wrong with him.

He wasn’t even sure if he had been in love or what it was supposed to feel like. He had been told by most people that love was a craving, a longing to have a certain somebody close by even if it was just to be in their proximity. When people would ask him if he had ever felt that way he’d always say no but then a unsettling feeling weighed heavy on the back of his mind and memories of a certain someone would appear unwarranted. 

His eyes roamed the room until they settled on one of the bridesmaids who had been flirting with him ever since he photographed them getting ready that morning. She was stunning, with long legs and flowing blonde hair. May as well, Harry thought, as he made his way toward her, watching as her throat bobbed and she flattened her hair when she caught him sifting through the crowd towards her. 

“Hey,” Harry spoke, his voice coming out low. 

“Hi,” She replied, shyly, tucking her hair behind her ear. 

“M Harry,” He introduced.

“I’m-”

“Lauren, I got you a coke but I can’t remember which one has vodka in it,” A voice appeared and a person holding two cokes in his hand came up to them. 

“Ollie,” Lauren blushed taking one of the glasses, “You know I can’t drink.” 

“I know,” Ollie shrugged, “Let me try them both and I’ll tell you which one is yours.”

Harry frowned, “Why can’t you drink?” He hoped it wasn’t for the reason he was thinking otherwise he’d have to think up a new escape plan. 

“Oh I’m a model,” Lauren replied, “I can’t drink when I’m working.”

“This one’s yours,” Ollie handed her the coke with ice and a lemon floating inside it.

“Are you sure?” Lauren double checked before taking a sip and realising he was telling the truth. 

Ollie glanced at Harry, his eyes widening and his mouth falling open. “Harry?” 

Harry furrowed his eyebrows, “Do we know each other?”

Ollie nodded, “We went to University together, you came to my birthday party that one time remember?”

Harry froze. The muscles in his body tensed as fragments of memories he had spent a long time trying to forget began to resurface. It was a deep wound that hadn’t ever had a chance to heal and seeing Ollie standing in front of him after years of never seeing anyone from his uni days had opened the old wound up again.

“Of course,” Harry coughed, discomfort prickling his skin. He watched as Ollie’s eyes darted around the room, as if searching for someone. Seizing the moment, Harry quickly turned to Lauren. “I better get going.”

Lauren frowned, disheartened by his words. “Already? Don’t you want to stay and have a drink?”

Harry shook his head. “I think the bride’s parents are still waiting for their picture to be taken.” It was a lie, but it gave him the escape he needed. He made a swift exit before Ollie could divert his attention back to him.

Outside the tent, Harry exhaled, feeling the fresh, open air on his face. He reached into the inside pocket of his blazer, pulled out a cigarette, and cupped the end to light it. Taking a few drags, he shut his eyes, letting the smoke and the cool evening air calm his nerves.

The flicker of the lighter's flame had drawn a brief, warm glow on his face. As he leaned against a brick wall, Harry's thoughts raced back to the encounter with Ollie. The unease hadn't left him; it gnawed at the edges of his mind.

He inhaled deeply, savouring the nicotine rush, and then exhaled slowly, watching the smoke dissipate into the night. 

Footsteps bristled through the grass as someone walked beside him, “Mind if I use your lighter?” 

Harry froze, breath caught in his chest. The voice resonated with a haunting familiarity, like a whisper carried through the corridors of time. It stirred something deep within him, a forgotten tremor of emotion that had long been buried. For the first time in years, his heart stirred—a hesitant, stuttering beat, as if waking from a long slumber at the sound of someone in a past life he had tried to let go of.

A part of him recoiled, resisting the urge to meet the eyes he had spent so many years trying to erase from memory. But a deeper, more insistent part of him ached for revival, for the spark that only those eyes could ignite. Slowly, his head turned and he found himself captured in her gaze. Time fractured, spilling moments both painful and precious into the present. The world around him fell away, reduced to the space between them. In those eyes, he hoped to see the way she used to look at him - like he was actually worth something but there was nothing of the sort. Whatever she was feeling, she had learnt to shield. The ache in his chest tightened, raw and overwhelming. 

She wore a black, off-the-shoulder dress that clung to her figure, His gaze lingered on her collarbones, sharp and delicate, and memories surged back with startling clarity. He recalled the warmth of her skin under his lips, the way she shivered as he traced tender kisses along her chest. The memory was so vivid it burned. 

“Y-You smoke?” were the first words he spoke. Not hello, not how are you? Not how have you been? Do you have a boyfriend? Are you okay? I miss you—do you have a boyfriend? 

“Not really,” She shrugs, “I just like the smell.” 

The silence was palpable. Years of not knowing each other meant Harry had no clue how to start a conversation. His suave and charisma that he used with all the women he encountered had left him, she had rattled his bones, awoken the sleeping soul within his body. How was he meant to begin a conversation with a woman who had the power to do that to him?

“How have you been?” She asked. 

He was startled by the question, it was unexpected and he wondered if she really cared. After all, the way he had left her in the bathroom at the birthday party had been his biggest regret. He could still remember the heartbreak on her face as he left her. 

She scoffs, “I loved you once before Harry, do you honestly think I wouldn’t at least ask you how you were?” 

He didn’t think that, he actually thought she wouldn’t remember him at all. He was a shitty person but there was nothing new about that. 

“I’m okay,” He said, unconvincing. “I feel slightly unprepared. I wasn’t expecting to see you here or ever.”

“Do you need to be prepared to speak to me?” Y/N seemed to find that amusing, the slight tilt of her head and the hint of a smirk made his heart skip. 

“Never,” He whispered. He never had to be prepared to speak to her because he was entirely himself whenever he was around her. 

“I saw you at the wedding. Congratulations on the business by the way.”

“Yeah thanks.” He said, “It’s been good. Busy. You know how it is. How about you?” 

“I’m an art teacher at a high school.” Harry nodded catching the look of pride on her face. Flashbacks of being in the same class as her and watching her paint. Despite having slept together and seeing her naked, he had never seen her more vulnerable than when she was painting. “It’s not a lot but I love it.”

“That’s what matters right?” Harry said, feeling like a hypocrite when his life was full of things he did just because he had to. 

“It’s definitely a change from my university days,” she said with a chuckle, tucking her hair behind her ear. “God, I’m actually embarrassed thinking back. I was a train wreck.”

“I didn’t think so,” Harry blurted out, too quickly, his voice tripping over itself. “I—I mean—”

She raised an eyebrow, her smirk creeping back, though this time it was softer, almost fond. “Really? You were around for most of my breakdowns. I actually feel like I should apologise.”

“Don’t,” Harry said firmly, meeting her eyes. “You don’t need to apologise for anything.”

Her expression softened, the teasing edge giving way to something quieter. “Are you staying at the hotel next door?”

“Yeah,” he murmured, shifting slightly. “Third floor.”

“We’re on the first,” she said casually, though Harry caught the faintest pause in her tone. “It was the last room they had available.”

He stilled.

We.

His mind tripped over the word, echoing it back to him louder and louder. We. We. There was a we?

Of course there was. How could there not be? She was stunning, even more so now than when they were younger. Her skin seemed to glow, her cheeks were fuller, her eyes brighter. She looked healthy. Happy. And the thought of someone else seeing her like this—touching her, laughing with her the way he used to—made his chest feel tight, like something inside him was splintering.

“Ollie and I had to go halves,” she said, breaking through his spiralling thoughts. “He actually sewed this dress we found at a thrift store, and I bedazzled the flower on his suit.”

Harry’s shoulders dropped before he could stop himself, the tension ebbing away like a tide receding. He hoped to God she didn’t notice the relief that must’ve been plain on his face when she mentioned Ollie. Not a boyfriend. Not a lover. Just Ollie.

“It’s good to see you two are still friends,” Harry spoke. 

“What about you? Are you here with anyone?” He noticed the way her collarbones tensed like she was holding her breath as she waited for his reply.

“No,” He confessed, “I’m alone.” He said, the word carrying more than she had asked for. 

The air was heavy and quiet, the faint glow of the cigarette casting soft shadows as the smoke curled lazily around them. Y/N took one last drag before flicking the cigarette to the ground near his feet, her movements sharp and deliberate. When she turned to face him, her tear-streaked face caught him off guard.

“I thought I would hate seeing you,” she said, her voice breaking.

Harry stood frozen, words sticking in his throat.

“But suddenly…” she continued, her voice trembling as fresh tears fell, “I feel like I’m twenty years old again. And you were... really mean to me, Harry.”

His chest tightened at her words, at the raw vulnerability in her tone. His eyes softened as he stepped closer. “I know,” he murmured, his voice low and heavy with regret. “Hey, I know.”

Her shoulders shook, the sobs overtaking her, and without hesitation, Harry pulled her into his arms. He held her tightly, as though holding her might somehow take away the weight of all the pain he had caused.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice cracking as he pressed his cheek against her hair. His own eyes burned, the threat of tears rising to the surface. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried, but now it felt inevitable. “I didn’t mean to hurt you—not the way I did. I’m so sorry.”

She didn’t respond, but her grip on his shirt tightened as her tears soaked through the fabric. He didn’t say anything else, didn’t try to fill the silence with empty reassurances. He just held her, letting her cry, letting her feel whatever she needed to feel.

He thought to himself if there would ever come a day where he wouldn’t be the cause of her pain. 

Eventually, her sobs quieted, leaving only the sound of her steadying breaths and the faint rustle of the wind around them. Y/N pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him, her eyes red-rimmed. Her fingers stayed curled in his shirt.

“I don’t even know why I’m crying,” she said with a shaky laugh, brushing at her cheeks. “It’s been so long, and I told myself I was over it. Over you.”

Harry’s hands stayed on her waist, his touch firm but gentle. “You don’t have to explain,” he murmured. “I get it.”

She shook her head, her lips pressing into a thin line. “No, you don’t. You don’t get how much it hurt, Harry. You have no idea what it feels like having the one person you loved leave you.” 

“I do,” he said, his voice firm now, his eyes searching hers. “I do, Y/N. And I hate myself for it. Every single day, I hate myself for it.”

Her breath hitched at the raw honesty in his tone, and for a moment, they just stared at each other, the air between them charged and electric. She wasn’t sure who moved first, but suddenly, their faces were inches apart. Her eyes flicked to his lips, and he caught the movement, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Y/N…” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

“Don’t,” she said, her voice trembling but insistent. “Don’t say anything.”

And then she kissed him.

It was sudden and messy, her lips crashing against his with a desperation that mirrored everything she was feeling. Harry didn’t hesitate, his arms tightening around her as he kissed her back just as fervently. The years of distance, the pain, the anger—all of it seemed to melt away in the heat of the moment. His hand came up to cradle her face, his thumb brushing away a stray tear as his lips moved with hers.

She let out a soft, broken sound, her hands gripping his shirt as though afraid he might disappear if she let go. He tilted his head, deepening the kiss, pouring everything he couldn’t say into it—his regret, his longing, his love.

When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads rested against each other, their breaths mingling in the cool night air. Her eyes fluttered open, searching his face, and he could see the conflict written across her features.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Neither do I,” he said, his voice hoarse.

“Let’s go to your room,” She whispered. 

“A-are you sure?” He furrowed his brows.

“One night,” She said, “Just one night.” 

Harry searched her eyes, his breath catching in his throat. He saw the resolve there, mixed with a vulnerability that mirrored his own. For a moment, he hesitated, the weight of what this meant pressing down on him.

But then she nodded, as if to reassure him, and he found himself nodding back. “Okay,” he murmured, his voice low and steady, though his heart was pounding like a drum. “Okay.”

She took his hand, her grip firm but trembling slightly, and he let her lead him through the dimly lit courtyard toward the hotel. The air between them buzzed with an unspoken tension, neither of them saying a word as they walked, their footsteps echoing softly on the pavement.

He led her to the elevator, the soft chime of the doors opening breaking the silence. They stepped in, the small space suddenly feeling suffocating as the weight of what they were about to do settled over them. Harry’s thumb brushed against her hand absentmindedly, grounding himself in the contact.

When the elevator doors finally opened, Harry guided her down the hallway, stopping in front of his room. His hands shook slightly as he pulled the key card from his pocket and slid it into the slot. The door clicked open, and he stepped aside to let her in first.

She walked in, pausing in the middle of the room, her arms crossed loosely as she took it all in. The space was small and unremarkable, a standard hotel room, but it didn’t seem to matter.

Harry closed the door behind him, turning to face her. “Y/N,” he began, but she shook her head, cutting him off.

“One night, Harry,” she said softly, her voice tinged with a mixture of determination and fragility. “Just one night. No promises, no expectations. Just... this.”

He swallowed hard, his chest tightening as he nodded. “Just this,” he echoed, stepping closer.

She met him halfway, her hands reaching up to cup his face as their lips met again, this time slower, more deliberate. There was no rush now, no frantic desperation—just the quiet intensity of two people trying to find something they’d lost.

His hands settled on her waist, pulling her closer as the kiss deepened. Every touch felt charged, every movement intended, as if they were trying to memorise each other all over again.

Harry pulled back just enough to search her eyes, his thumb brushing against her cheek, as if grounding himself in the moment. “Are you sure?” he asked one last time, his voice rough and unsteady.

Her answer wasn’t in words but in action—swift, certain, and unrelenting. She hooked her hands behind his neck and pulled him down into another kiss. It was messy, all-consuming, the kind of kiss that left no room for hesitation. Their teeth bumped, tongues tangling in a way that was almost desperate, as though both of them were trying to erase years of unspoken longing.

Harry’s hands found the back of her thighs, gripping firmly as he lifted her effortlessly. She gasped into his mouth but didn’t break the kiss, her arms tightening around his shoulders as he carried her toward the bed. The soft thud of her back meeting the mattress sent a jolt through him, his breath hitching as he hovered over her.

Her hands were already tugging at the hem of his shirt, fingers brushing against his warm skin as she pulled it upward. He shifted, breaking the kiss just long enough to help her remove it, the fabric landing somewhere on the floor.

Harry’s hand slid to her shoulder, his fingers trailing along the strap of her dress. He hesitated for a moment, his eyes flickering to hers for silent permission. She gave him a small nod, and he pushed the strap down slowly, his fingertips grazing her bare skin and leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.

As her dress began to fall away, her hands roamed over his chest, her nails scraping lightly against his skin. His breath hitched, and he leaned down, pressing his lips to her collarbone, then lower, his movements deliberate but unhurried.

His hand travelled up her thigh, his fingertips brushing against her soft skin, sending shivers through her. He moved with a reverence that made her heart ache—a mix of tenderness and hunger that felt like it might undo her entirely.

His hand slipped lower, finding the edge of her underwear. Gently, he hooked his fingers into the delicate fabric, sliding it down her legs in one fluid motion. He paused, his touch lingering just enough to let her know he wasn’t rushing, wasn’t taking anything for granted. His eyes found hers again, and the unspoken connection between them felt like it might swallow them both whole.

"You're beautiful," he murmured, his voice barely audible but thick with meaning, before leaning in to kiss her again, his lips brushing hers with a tenderness that sent a shiver down her spine.

Y/N’s eyes burned with emotion, her chest tightening as she watched him. It had been so long since someone had looked at her the way Harry did, with a mix of tenderness and hunger that made her feel like the only person in the world. She knew he hadn’t always loved her—not the way she’d wanted him to—but in moments like this, she let herself believe he had.

Harry sat on the edge of the bed, running a hand through his messy curls, his movements slow and deliberate. The soft clink of his belt buckle echoed in the room as he undid it, placing it aside before reaching into the bedside table for a condom.

Y/N moved closer, her chest pressing warmly against his back. Her lips found his shoulder, pressing a gentle kiss there, lingering just long enough to make him pause. She felt him still under her touch, his breathing deepening as he tore open the foil.

“Remember when I did that for you?” she murmured, her lips brushing against his skin. She couldn’t see his face, but she could feel the small smile spreading across his lips.

He chuckled softly, a low sound that made her heart ache. “Yeah,” he said, his voice rough with fondness and something heavier. He turned just enough to kiss the corner of her mouth,

Harry shifted, turning fully to face her, capturing her lips in a full, unhurried kiss. His hands moved to her waist, guiding her back onto the bed, her body sinking into the soft mattress. For a moment, he just looked at her—her hair splayed out like a halo on the pillow, her lips slightly swollen from their kiss, her chest rising and falling as she pushed her legs apart for him, ready and waiting, like she always did whenever they had sex. Spreading herself open to him. 

His cock slid into her, her eyes squeezing shut, her mouth falling open in a silent gasp. He could feel every inch of her around him, all of his senses were overwhelmed by her. They were like two pieces of the same puzzle coming together as he pushed himself all the way inside of her.

Y/N released a shaky breath, her eyes fluttering open, and Harry couldn’t look away. Her gaze sparkled in the soft yellow glow of the hotel room light, and when she reached up to push his curls back and cup his cheek, he leaned into her touch like a man starved. A tear slipped from his eye, unbidden, and she brushed it away with her thumb. 

He began to move, slow and deliberate, his hips rolling with a teasing gentleness that made her lips part. He wanted this moment to last forever. He wanted to stay inside of her forever. He wanted to feel every piece of her forever. 

She writhed beneath him, whimpering and whining and begging for more of him. He would give it all to her, everything she asked of him he would give it all. “Harry,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

“I don’t want to stop,” he murmured into her ear, his voice raw and honest. His chest tightened with the weight of the moment, of the years between them, of the undeniable connection they still shared.

“Then don’t,” she replied, her breath hitching as she pulled him closer. “Don’t stop.”

. . . 

They lay down flat on their back looking up at the ceiling, sated and empty. Her head was on his chest as he smoked a cigarette. The smell bought them both back to the times he would smoke whenever they had sex. 

"When you walk away tomorrow," she murmured, her voice soft but laced with a hint of vulnerability, "you walk away with a piece of me."

Harry paused, the cigarette resting between his fingers as he turned his gaze toward her. His chest tightened at her words, an ache that had nothing to do with the smoke still curling in the air. "I feel like I’ve been walking with you for much longer than you think," he replied quietly. 

She smiled at that but inside he was dying. 

. . . 

A year later, Harry stood in the soft glow of a local art gallery. His photographs adorned the walls, strangers moving among them with quiet murmurs of appreciation. The evening had been surreal—people lingered, commented, and even bought pieces he’d always thought too personal to share.

As the closing hour approached, Harry found himself alone with one particular photograph. It was his favourite, though he’d never admitted that aloud. A pair of beautiful eyes that he had spent a small chunk of his youth watching the world through. The gallery was quieter now, and the chatter of earlier felt like a distant echo. He stared at the image, letting his thoughts dissolve into it.

The click of heels against the polished floor shattered the stillness. He felt the presence beside him before he turned.

“That’s the ugliest piece of shit I’ve ever seen,” a voice said, low and familiar.

His heart skipped, his breath catching in his throat.

“Yeah?” His lips twitched, caught between amusement and disbelief. 

“I love it.”

“You do?”

“I adore it.”

“Good.”

He finally turned his head, but the space beside him was empty. He froze, scanning the room, his pulse hammering in his ears. For a moment, he swore he caught the faint smell of paint and lavender in the air.  His head spun in search of them only to find a man standing alone in the room, “Excuse me,” Harry approached, “Did you see a woman walk in?”

The stranger shook his head and turned back to the photos without another word.

Harry’s shoulders sagged under the weight of disappointment. With a quiet sigh, he reached into his suit jacket for his phone to call a taxi. It was the same suit he always wore for work—every wedding, every shoot. The fabric was worn at the elbows, but he didn’t have the time or effort to go out and buy a new one. 

As he pulled the phone free, something slipped from the pocket and fluttered to the floor.

A slip of paper.

Harry blinked, crouching to pick it up. His breath caught as his eyes landed on the words scrawled across it in hurried, looping handwriting: A piece of me.

He flipped it over. A phone number stared back at him.

Harry’s heart raced, each beat echoing in his ears. His hands trembled as he entered the phone number into his phone. He put the number into his phone and typed out the only response he had been desperate to give her in answer to the plea that had haunted him for years. 

I love you.

[saphira-artandoc]

C3 swap AU

Dorian Storm

•

•

•

This contains spoiler up to E115!!

If you wonder what the swap AU is, I recommend checking it out right here!

This one is dedicated to @theplatinumcritter and @czpeterp. Both helped me a lot in the creation process of Dorian two years ago. Look how far we’ve come!

Title: Sir Dorian Storm, Lost Muse of the Fair Winds

Age :27

Class: Bard (College of Glamour, Feylost)

EXU - Start of C3

Dorian’s earliest childhood memory is from the Feywild. He didn’t know his name or how he came to the Ligaments Manor, just a simple melody in the back of his mind and a wooden flute by his side. The hag living inside, Morrigan The Fatestitcher, took care of him like he was her grandson. She gave him his name, Dorian, which would later evolve into Dorian Storm due to innate magical ability to summon lightning.

He left the Ligaments Manor at 26, not only to discover the world of Exandria, but also to deliver a parcel to Birdie Calloway. A few weeks into his travel, he would meet Orym and Fearne, camping not too far away from Emon. The trio would them meet up with Dariax, Opal and Fy’ra Rai. After the lost of the memory of the previous week, the group, now missing a Fy’ra, would party at the Everdawn. They would later find the Circlet of Barbed Vision, which would create tension within the group to know what to do with it.

In 843 P.D., he joined Orym and Fearne to Jrusar, Marquet, to find Oshad Breshio, a survivor of an assassination similar to what happened in Zephrah six years ago. He would meet the other members that would later become Bells Hells while fighting animated furniture.

Before the ball, Bells Hells would investigate the case of missing people near the Starlight Theatre. It’s where he would meet Cyrus Wyvernwind, who believed Dorian is his younger brother due to the striking resemblance to his father.

After managing to smuggle Cyrus away from the ball, Dorian took the ultimate decision to leave Marquet with him, as both men could be arrested for the bounty on Cyrus’ head. He believed Cyrus could be the missing link to his fussy childhood memories. He gave to Fearne the little parcel containing the weave lens and left, gaining a matching Sending stone connected to Orym.

Back with the Crown Keepers, he would spend some time in various places on Tal’Dorei, including Kymal. It’s where the group would meet their latest member, Morrighan Ferus. After a successful heist, the Crown Keepers would leave the city, and Opal would become somber.

Dorian would come back with Bells Hells after the disbanding of the Crown Keepers and the death of Cyrus. He would follow them back to their adventure to stop Ludinus Da’leth to release Predathos and travel to Ruidus with all of them and the Mighty Nein.

While not confirmed as partners, he has been shown reciprocating Orym’s feelings.

The masquerade ball

At the ball, Dorian gladly took the role of a royal from one of the Feywild court, trying to renew ties with the Material Plane. He embellished Bertrand’s gambler’s rapier to look like an ornamental sword that he named Typhonus.

He introduced himself as Lord Apollo Indigo Sonore Amaadon V of the Court of Lady Morrigan of the Feywild. He took inspiration from the De Rolo to create his name, since he believed having that many would make him feel legit.

He also named his entourage as Corpernicus (Orym), Lady Fearne Calloway of the Air Ashari and Maud (Imogen)

After the ball however, his stress got the best of him and tried to come up with different names for his troupe, including:

Sir Copernicus of the Seven winds, right hand of the Lord;

Lady Fearne Calloway of the Air Ashari, Druidesse of the Moon;

Lady Maude of the Timberwoods, Handmaiden of the Lady;

And Lady Irene of the Timberwoods, supernova of the skies and keeper of the moons, which was his third attempt for Imogen’s name that she quickly shut down for using the same first letters as her real name.

After fighting Opal

Dorian had been gifted with the winged boots Cyrus used to wear a day before the fight with Opal happened. Cyrus believed that Dorian would have a better use of them than he would. He also let himself grow a goatee to see what it would look like, to which Cyrus had said that he “looked like our father”. When Cyrus died, memories of his time as Brontë Secondsun Wyverwind flooded back and Dorian began to question his whole identity. The light breeze flowing his air around would drop, grounding him with the weight of what happened.

When he left Dariax at a tavern with his lute, he travelled alone to Zephrah, hoping to speak to the Voice of the Tempest. She let him stay as long as he needed and lend him some spare Ashari clothes she could find that fit him.

At the mention of his friends returning to Exandria from their mission on Ruidus, he asked Keyleth to travel back to them with her. He kept the Ashari clothes until he could change into is battle ready outfit.

Vasselheim - Lost Muse of the Fair Winds

He wears his hair in a bun, with a few hair pieces framing his face.

His jewelry is now golden in colours, accepting his role as the only son of the Wyverwind family.

He still wears the mithral shirt, but also a sleeveless top to prepare for battles. He painted his mandolin to match his outfit.

The shoulder piece is that of a butterfly, a symbol deeply tied to Dorian. The belt is also different from his canon variant, this time being based of dragon wings overlapping one another.

He was also able to summon Coriolis, a fable mount of the Wyvernwind thanks to the melody he knew someone hummed to him, which was his mother.

He would receive on loan Gambocleft, the vortex blade from Zeru Wyvernwind, his father. He gave Bertrand’s gambler rapier in exchange.

Pull of the Planes

During their travel to seek out the Qoniira Tetrarchy, Dorian felt the pull towards the forest where he knew a gate to the Feywild stood, the same one his nana made him walk through. Near the gate, his body would began to change, but not as drastically as Fearne’s did. His forearms and arms would change to a pale sky blue colours, almost white near his fingers, becoming translucent. He would float a couple inches off the ground, his hair gently flowing around. The markings on his body would also glow brightly through his clothes, giving him an ethereal air to him. This ability would later be seen in Zephrah and used as his Unbreakable Majesty, not needing to be close to the Feywild or the Air Plane to channel it.

Mirror Dorian

Mirror Dorian, also known as MirDor by the Crown keepers, is a doppelgänger charged to sabotage the Fatestitcher’s plan to aid Birdie Calloway with the telescope she helped build with Ira. He is taller, have longer arms and legs than Dorian and wears and curious outfit created from bits and pieces of his Feywild attire with elements he doesn’t recognize. He has long hair reaching his knees, the tip of it translucent with what appear to be spiderwebs mix with it. He wears the Circle of Barbed Vision, oily substance trailing down from where it’s stuck to his head. MirDor’s job is to prick at Dorian’s insecurities about his upbringing, hinting that the Circlet will finally give the power and strength necessary to take back what was stolen from him by all means necessary. At Dorian’s refusal, MirDor would proceed to attack the Crown Keepers, turning Orym against the group and forcing his hidden lycanthropy to fight. Even defeated, he would still haunts Dorian and unfortunately for him, had been right about a few things relating to his past.

Summer cloak - Winter cloak

Dorian has two different cloaks he can wear during summer and winter in Exandria.

Both are inspired by real butterfly: the summer cloak is based of a common blue butterfly and the winter one is based of a bluish spring moth.

He would also lend the cloak to his friend if they are cold, either during their journey or while he’s on watch while camping outside.

Relationships

The Crown Keepers: Dorian’s first adventuring party and friends he made in Exandria. He would do anything to protect them, even going as far as destroying the world for them. When Opal decided to wear the Circlet of Barbed Vision, Dorian grew anxious of her well-being, knowing the Spider Queen could make of her a puppet. His anxiety had been proven when Opal was forced to fight the group, indirectly killing Cyrus in the process. He bears no anger toward his her, only to the goddess.

Fearne Calloway: She is Dorian’s partner in crimes. Both of them would work together to commit small bits of thievery, at the grand dismay of Orym. She, Dorian and Orym will often share a room together, with Dorian being the middle spoon. She was the one who suggested that they could save up their money and only get one room for the three of them depending on the price, to which Dorian agreed to followed by Orym. She’s one of his closest friend and was delighted to know she enjoyed her time at the Ligament Manor. He left her the weave lens, feeling like she had more chance to meet up with Birdie than he would.

Orym of the Air Ashari: Dorian’s love interest. Orym grew worried Dorian would leave him after biting his arm during the fight at the gate to the Feywild. This fight made them promise to not let Dorian go a dark path and for Orym to not turn into a feral werewolf. Dorian did feel like he broke his part of the bargain after learning Orym attacked his group on two separate occasions, even injuring himself in the process. They kept each other updated on their own different groups via the stones when they could. Orym was also the first person in Exandria that gave him a real flower via druidcraft, to prepare him for the musical showdown whit Annie. Dorian only knew how to create magical ones to glamour up, so he was delighted and kept the flower as long as he could. When Orym confessed his feelings for Dorian the night before their mission to stop Ludinus, Dorian was relieved to be reciprocated and only wished he could hold Orym for the night. The morning after, waiting for the signal to start their mission, Orym took Dorian aside and asked if he could kiss him, since he didn’t know if they would ever have the chance to do it again. If they survive what’s to come, they would both discuss what their future would be.

Bertrand Bell: While Dorian only knew the older gentleman for 2 days, he had grew fond of him and his skills using a rapier. Bertrand had wished to teach him some neat tricks he’d learned but that quickly ended when he was killed by Duggar. Dorian was angry for what happened and promised Bertrand he’d write a song about him. He would later avenge him by killing Duggar.

Bells Hells: Dorian’s second adventuring party. They are known to be quite chaotic to some extend, but they all got each other’s back. They helped Dorian at rescuing Cyrus during the ball and he’s forever grateful of them. He relish all the stories they share with him of their adventure while he was away.

Morrigan Calloway, the Fatestitcher: Morrigan is Dorian’s guardian. He sees her as his own grandmother, knowing they aren’t related by blood. She was the one who gave him his name and let him go to his adventure on Exandria if he could also deliver the parcel to Birdie along the way. She calls him her little songbird, due to the fact he was humming and singing a lot in his youth. She gave him the lure he travelled with, saying it belonged to an amazing bard long faded to time. She promised him he could always come back to her and she would gladly take him back. While growing up, Dorian knew to not wander too close of the chamber containing The Loom. It’s only with Bells Hells that he realized what it did. Even after learning of his past, he still loves his grandmother.

Cyrus Wyvernwind: Dorian’s estranged older brother and the fall guy of a theft he didn’t commit. When Bells Hells went to see the Hubbat Corsair, he was surprised to see a man resembling his father. He would start following the group, hoping to get a moment to talk with Dorian. When they travelled together back to Tal’Dorei, Cyrus told Dorian bits and pieces of his childhood, how he used to have a little brother and how one day he just forgot everyone at the Squalls, including himself. He was never seen again, being told Brontë fell ill and his ailment killed him. He also mentioned that the day his little brother lost his memory, strange powers awakened in him. This is why he left the Silken Squalls a few month ago, trying to understand his powers and searching where his brother was, as he never believed his parents.

The Wyverwinds: Dorian had no memory of his blood family until the death of his brother, Cyrus. The reason why is because their parents made a deal with the Fatestitcher to ensure the Silken Squalls would be stronger and survive whatever will happen following the apogee solstice set for 843 P.D. The result of such protection made Dorian forget his life as Brontë, even if his family try to make him remember, and Cyrus possessed Feywild magic that he couldn’t control. The reason why is according to Morrigan, Cyrus’ power could be the protection they requested, if he masters it correctly. Dorian however would be a memory of the past and be no use to them, he would be best left with the hag.

Now to our current time in this universe, Dorian understands their decision was made due to fear of losing their loved one’s and he truly believes there was no ill intentions to it. However, he said they shouldn’t have lied to Cyrus and the rest of the Squalls about his predicaments., seeing how the Wyvernwind are not left with a son that is supposed to be dead. Zeru agreed, acknowledging their mistakes. When asked if he’d like to meet his mother and the Silken Squalls one day Dorian agreed, but he knows it won’t be soon.

•

•

•

Whew, he’s finally done. I swear I thought I would have been able to show him last week but turns out instruments takes time to create, including the cloaks. For now, Dorian has more outfit variant than the rest of the Hells.

Major thanks again to @theplatinumcritter to help co-write Dorian’s story and to @czpeterp for coming up with the idea of a sunset peak-a-boo hair for Dorian, since I didn’t know where this motif would go on our lovely bard.

Also fun fact: when deciding who should be next in line I used a spinning wheel generator and it picked Orym bsbdsjsbdghjdhs

He should be done by next week, but again he can still make me work overtime like Dorian did so, again don’t quote me on that!

[samuraiko]

You should write orym meeting the crown keepers for the first time!

Again, I am *SO* very sorry these are taking so long, Anons. But I appreciate your patience! (And in the meantime, I've got other vignettes you might enjoy.)

"Kinda Sorta Something in Common"

Orym wandered aimlessly through the streets of Emon, taking in the sights and sounds. It wasn't his first time here, as he'd travelled occasionally with Keyleth and the other Tempest Blades as part of her entourage, but for once, he was alone.

And it felt... strangely lonely.

The halfling shook his head as if to clear it of negative thoughts, and became aware of music coming from somewhere nearby. A lute, being played decently well, with a lilting, cheerful melody that brought to mind brightly coloured banners being tossed about in the wind and sunshine.

"And, as the Cock crew, those who stood before The Tavern shouted—"Open then the Door. You know how little while we have to stay, And, once departed, may return no more.""

Rounding the corner, he saw a handsome young man, stylishly dressed (though an odd combination of ostentatious and well-worn), sitting outside a tavern and busking for the passersby. There was a small pile of coins in a threadbare basket next to him, and citizens would occasionally toss him a coin as they walked past.

Orym stopped a short distance away, leaned against the tavern wall, and listened to the young man's song.

"Yesterday this day's madness did prepare; Tomorrow's silence, triumph, or despair: Drink! for you not know whence you came, nor why: Drink! for you know not why you go, nor where."

As he finished the song with a flourish, a few others nearby clapped, and a few more coins tossed into the basket before they moved on.

"Thank you, you're too kind!" The musician called out after them, then he began gathering up his things.

Orym pulled out one of his few gold coins and tossed it into the basket with an expert flick.

The musician looked up at him in pleased surprise.

"Thank you, good sir! Please... allow me to buy you a drink for your generosity!" He waved at the tavern beside them. "The wine is good, and the shade is welcome."

"Sure," Orym said agreeably, and the two were soon seated at a small table, two glasses of wine set before them.

"You're... not from around here, are you?" Orym asked after taking a sip of his wine. "Your accent's a bit different."

"No, no, I'm not from Tal'Dorei. I'm, ah, actually from Marquet." He gave a half-bow with a slight flourish. "Dorian Storm, wandering bard at your service."

"Orym of the Air Ashari. It's nice to meet you. You play well, by the way. I never quite had the knack for it."

"Well, we all have our gifts. Do you live here in Emon?"

"No, I'm actually from Zephrah. The eastern side of Tal'Dorei."

"You're quite a long way from home, then. What brings you here?"

Orym briefly looked uncomfortable, and Dorian gave him a thoughtful look over the top of his wine glass.

"I seem to have put my foot in my mouth. Forgive me."

"Oh, no, it's fine. I'm just... kind of tasked with looking into something." Orym hastily took another gulp of wine and looked away. "And I take it you're just seeing the world? Plying your trade?"

"It's the open road for me," Dorian agreed. "I see things that I'd never have seen at home..." Then his eyes were drawn across the tavern to something over Orym's shoulder. "Like that, for instance."

Orym turned to look behind him, where a rather pretty albeit flashily dressed young woman was sitting nearby and openly looking at the two of them. She grinned and waved at Dorian, who immediately turned red and stared intently into his wineglass.

"I, uh, think she likes you," Orym said.

"Oh, I don't know about that..." Dorian stammered.

Then he nearly leapt off his stool as the young woman came over and sat down uninvited at the table.

"Well, you're back again, pretty boy! That makes it a whole week, right?"

She turned to look at Orym and said in a stage whisper, "What do you think? Is he coming here for me? Or for the wine?"

"I wouldn't know, I only just met him myself. I'm Orym."

"Opal." She turned expectantly to Dorian, whose cheeks were now even redder. "And you are?"

"D-D-Dorian. Dorian Storm."

"Dorian. Pretty boy, pretty name. And a pretty decent musician too." She turned back to Orym. "You heard him play? He's been doing his thing outside this tavern every day for a week or so now."

"Yes, I have. I quite liked it."

"Please, allow me then to buy you a drink," Dorian stammered, and signaled the bartender to bring over another glass of wine for Opal. With an effort, he collected himself and turned back to Orym. "As I was saying, you can find all sorts of things here in Emon, if you're looking for something in particular."

"That's what I'm hoping," Orym said quietly. "But we'll see." He looked over at Opal, who was sipping at her wine and making a face.

"is it not good?"

"I don't know much about wine, so, hard to say. But hey, free drink!"

Just then, a loud crash of furniture breaking filled the tavern, and Orym, Dorian, and Opal all looked over to see a stout dwarf with wild reddish-brown hair lying in the middle of the wreckage of a table.

"HEY! That was totally uncalled for!" he protested. "It's not my fault you're so lousy at cheating at cards!"

Three other men were getting to their feet and growling, their fists clenched.

"What was that?"

"Oh come on, it was totally obvious." The dwarf got up, dusted himself off, and walked back over the other three. "If you're going to cheat, the least you could do is be good at it."

One of them snarled and with a flash of lanternlight glinting on steel, produced a knife.

Orym tensed and prepared to spring, but suddenly the dwarf waved his hands and flames flashed into existence around them.

"Ooooooooh," they all heard, and everyone turned to see a tall, statuesque female faun come sashaying up. She completely ignored the three card players and approached the dwarf. "You're quite good at that."

The dwarf had to crane his neck to look up at her, but gave her an appreciative grin. "I do my best."

She then sauntered over to the card players and lightly put her hand on the shoulder of the one with the knife. "You wouldn't be so mean as to hurt him, would you?"

"Get out of my way, lady," he growled, but his eyes went huge as her visage changed. Suddenly the lovely innocent face was savage, her eyes blazing, her teeth now fangs, her hands clawed.

He let out a panicked yelp, as did his two friends, and they all three nearly fell over each other scrambling to get away from her and out of the tavern.

"Yeah! And don't come back until you learn how to cheat properly!" the dwarf shouted after them.

For a moment, the tension in the tavern was thick enough that Orym could almost see it in the air, but then Opal giggled, and things abruptly relaxed.

"That was... quite the show," Dorian said, staring wide-eyed at the faun, who was now smugly tossing a small money pouch from hand to hand, while the dwarf was scooping up the money that the other gamblers had left on the table.

The faun and dwarf noticed the three of them watching, and came over to sit down.

"That was AMAZING!" Opal said to the faun. "You went from being all hot to all HAAAAAAAH!"

"Why thank you," the faun preened as she tucked the stolen money pouch into her dress.

"Hey, I was all HAAAAAAAH too," the dwarf said, leaning a spear against his chair. "Cowardly bastards."

"And you two would be..." Dorian let his voice trail off.

"Oh I'm Fearne. Fearne Calloway." She held out one hand to him, no longer clawed, and Dorian kissed it.

"And I'm Dariax Zaveon." The dwarf also held out his hand to Dorian, who looked at it briefly then shook it. "No kiss?"

"Sorry."

"I'm Opal." Opal shook their hands as well.

"And I'm Orym of the Air Ashari," the halfling chimed in, reaching across the table to shake hands as well. "Are you two locals?"

"Not me," Dariax said. "I'm from the Turst Fields, over in the east."

Orym brightened. "I'm from Zephrah. The Fields are just a little ways north of us."

"Zephrah? Oh, that highfalutin' Ashari place way up in the mountains. Yeah. Never been there myself. Heard it's nice, though."

"And I'm from the Feywild," Fearne said amicably, and Opal's eyes became huge.

"NO! Really?"

"Mm-hmm."

"So what are you doing here in Emon, then?" Dorian asked, signaling for another round of drinks.

"I'm looking for someone," Fearne replied.

Dariax shrugged. "I'm just picking up odd jobs here and there."

"It sounds like we're all here looking for something," Orym observed. "I, um... I don't suppose any of you might be... I don't know... interested in looking for things together?"

"I'm down for it if you are," Dariax said cheerfully. "I got nothing better to do."

"I wouldn't mind," Fearne replied. "I imagine I'll find all sorts of new and exciting things with all of you."

"Yeah, I could do that," Opal said. "I mean, I'm not that great at anything, but it beats just sitting around watching the world go by."

"Well, if you don't mind having a humble bard along, I would certainly enjoy some company." Dorian lifted his glass in a toast. "To... what should we drink to?"

There was a pause, then Dariax said, "To... kinda sorta having something in common!"

There was another, longer pause, and Dariax looked around the table. "What?"

Orym gave a slight grin, and lifted his glass as well. "To kinda sort having something in common."

They all drank to that.

[vaxyl]

Some Random Vox Machina Headcanons!

These take place in a canon divergent universe, so don't expect them to be canon friendly or "accurate".

Percy will sometimes pass out in his workshop only to wake up in his room. He has no idea who it is that moves him, but he appreciates it. It's Grog, by the way. He hates seeing Percy with a sore back from sleeping hunched over at his desk.

Vax likes to bird watch when he has free time. He also takes this time to meditate and practice yoga. He finds it soothing when his mental health starts getting bad again.

Vax likes carving wooden figurines for his friends and family. Vex'ahlia has over 1,000 little wooden Trinket figurines dotted around her room.

When the others feel like training, Grog is more than happy to be their training instructor. In fact, Grog tends to give the people of Whitestone and the Whitestone Army free training lessons too.

Scanlan has published song books full of the songs he has written a long with matching sheet music for different instruments.

Vax, Gilmore and Keyleth are a happy Polycule. While Gilmore and Keyleth only have platonic love for eachother, both have deep romantic feelings for Vax and Vax is deeply in love with both of them back.

While Keyleth is Pansexual, she's sexually repulsed. Meanwhile, Gilmore is Gay and Vax is Bisexual, neither being shy in the bedroom.

Vex'ahlia and Percy end up having 7 children, the second and third kids being twins with the fifth kid being a Tiefling;

Vesper-Elaina (daughter)

Val'dinah (daughter)

Tibbons (son)

Melody (nonbinary)

Belle (daughter)

Wesley (son)

Jasper (son)

Vax helps out at Gilmore's store in Whitestone from Miresen through Whelsen, then on Conthsen and Folsen he helps out at the local orphanage and school. On Yulisen he takes the day off, and then on Da'leysen he tends to his Champion of The Raven Queen duties.

Vax, Keyleth and Gilmore have a townhouse in Whitestone for when they want privacy from everyone else at the Castle. Gilmore also has a beach home his parents care for back in Marquet for when they go on vacation. But all 3 have their own individual room at Whitestone Castle.

Vax and Pike occasionally take night time walks together to talk about their respective Goddesses and the work it is they do for them both. Pike helps Vax whenever his doubts and fears get too much, and Vax is happy to reassure Pike whenever she feels like she isn't good enough for Sarenrae.

Vex and Percy are very hands on with their children, treating each one with equal amounts of love and respect. They try not to be overbearing, but make sure no child is ignored. That being said, they do occasionally find themselves disagreeing over certain aspects of how their children are raised. That's usually where good ol' Uncle Vax gets brought in.

Nothing makes Vax smile wider than when one of the quarter elves call him Uncle Vax. Whenever he talks to his Queen, he usually updates her on them and gushes about all 7 of them to her.

Vax and Vex have a memorial made in Whitestone for their mother, as well as the rest of Thordak and his fellow dragons' victims, in Whitestone. Vax visits it often, talking to his mother whenever he can. Vex visits it too, but not as often as Vax does. When Vex does go see it, she tends to take Percy and the kids, while Vax prefers visiting it alone. Gilmore and Keyleth do tag along with Vax sometimes, but Gilmore also visits on his own sometimes when he feels he needs advice on his relationship with Vax.

Dinner at the Castle is quite flexible on Miresen through Yulisen, anyone can stop in if they want but don't need to, but it's a big family affair every Da'leysen where everybody - Percy, Cassandra, Vex, Vax, the quarter elves, Keyleth, Keyleth's parents, Gilmore, Gilmore's parents, Scanlan, Kaylie, Pike, Grog, Kima and Allura - eat together and catch up at the end of the week. It's rare for anybody to miss the big family dinner and usually only happens if somebody is sick or if Vax, Pike or Kima are away on work for their Goddesses. It's thanks to Vex'ahlia having teleportation circles made that link the Castle to Gilmore's parents' home in Marquet and Keyleth & Keyleth's mom's tree teleportation magic.

Vox Machina have noticed that Vax tends to be tailed by a raven or two whenever he is outside. This has gained Vax the nickname "The Raven Prince", something Vax finds quite embarrassing. Secretly, the Raven Queen is very amused about this development as the birds are actually watching over Vax on her order.

[princessnelrita]

365 days of the Dollanganger Saga: day 162

[kitweewoos]

Scanlan’s Final Wish

Also on AO3

Vax'ildan was different when he stepped through the veil of the Raven Queen’s cloak on the edge of the cliffs.

“Scanlan Shorthalt,” he greeted, his voice halting and haunting. “You are toying with the designs of the gods still, I see. Old friend.”

“But I, I didn’t have a present,” Scanlan said in response, his voice small in a way that it never was. He felt weak all over, the wish draining him of his strength and energy. “So.”

His voice trailed off.

“She will allow it. Thank you.”

Scanlan couldn’t see Vax's face behind the raven’s mask he wore, and oh, how he longed to see that face. He missed kissing those perfect lips and feeling Vax's smile against his own. He missed the sounds Vax made their last night in the mansion, terrified and clinging to each other in the dark. He missed waking with his head on Vax's chest, tracing the dark raven mark before they decided to rise for the day. He hadn’t had enough time with Vax'ildan. None of them had.

Least of all, Scanlan thought, Vex'ahlia. There were tears in her eyes now, her blessing still lighting up the area. She was truly radiant in every meaning of the word, and Scanlan had done this for her. They had mourned Vax'ildan together, both of them missing large parts of themselves that may never heal. He was right when he said there was nothing expensive enough to be worthy of her and Percy, but this is what he could do. He could give her one last moment with her brother.

He watched quietly as Vax removed his mask, keeping the tears at bay. The love of his life, Vax'ildan, champion of the Raven Queen, was just as beautiful as the first day they met in Stilben all those years ago. There were more scars, and he had that weird bone spire thing happening on his shoulder, but Scanlan felt the love beat in his chest strong as ever.

Scanlan flashed to their last kiss before the Raven Queen took him away, to their first after Vax’ildan blurted out that he loved him, to the first time Scanlan took Vax apart in what would come to be their shared bed, to hearing Vex catch Vax leaving his room The next morning. He swallowed against the swell of nostalgia. Against the weight of their past. Against the hollowness of their future.

Pike's steady hand closed around his shoulder, grounding him in this moment.

Vex and Percy’s wedding.

He couldn’t breathe.

Pike squeezed, and he inhaled.

He didn’t listen to Vax and Vex, he couldn’t. If he stopped to listen to that haunting creaking voice where there once was melody and light, he might let the exhaustion take him.

This wasn’t for him.

But then, as if on cue, Vex’ahlia turned her brother around to face him.

“Scanlan,” he said, and he sank to his knees before Scanlan. “Champion of the Knowing Mistress.”

“Don’t,” Scanlan whispered, his knees weak in Vax’ildan’s presence. Vax reached out and took Scanlan’s face in his hands. “Vax. I didn’t think it was going to work.”

“You, Shorthalt, are more talented than even you could possibly imagine. It’s been too long, and I have so much to say.”

“Vax,” Scanlan whispered again, voice weak on the breeze.

“You have so much before you, my love, and you have so many stories to tell. Ioun will be proud of you. As I am.”

“I have so many stories to tell you,” Scanlan managed. Vax rested his forehead against Scanlan’s, and subtly kept his hands on Scanlan’s hips, holding him up. “Kaylie and I- and the business in Marquet-”

Vax kissed him, cutting him off. For once, he was glad to stumble over his words and trip on his tongue.

“I’ve heard your prayers. The Queen is gracious to let me hear you.”

“I wish I could hear you back.”

“You know I cannot. It is unfair to you, and to I, if we cannot touch or kiss or see each other every night. Your words are enough for me, but you are still here, Scanlan Shorthalt. You must move on. Find another love. Raise your daughters to be just as rambunctious and wonderful as you.”

Scanlan caught the s, looking at Kaylie nearby startled.

“Your children,” Vax said and while his face was calm, Scanlan swore there was a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “I’ve seen your legacy, Scanlan. I’ve seen the mark you leave on the world.”

“I don’t care about that without you.”

“Be brave, Shorthalt. Live. And love again. I promise you.” And then, just for a moment, his voice was warm and soft again, “I love you so much.”

Scanlan counted the seconds, the moment before Vax kissed him one last time and then stepped away. Scanlan watched as he looked to their chosen family gathered around them and nodded his goodbyes.

He wasn’t ready to let him go.

“Live,” he said gently, and then there was a scatter of black feathers. And he was gone once more, leaving them alone on the cliffside.

It was the last Wish Scanlan could ever make, but every night, for years to come, he’d pray to the Raven Queen, and pray to Ioun, and tell his stories to a boy in black that could never reply.

[madeinpop]

Made In PoP™ ǁ eventi Rock in Veneto dal 25 al 31 Gennaio 2018 ǁ stagione 15

Ciao Made-In-PoPpers, questa settimana mandiamo un forte abbraccio a SILVIA e a tutto lo staff di Ca'Sana, vittime di intimidazioni, evidentemente stanno lavorando bene, se danno fastidio a qualcuno, noi di Made In PoP continuiamo a supportarli e auguriamo loro tutto il meglio. CHECcO & LoRIS «Sostenete la Musica, Andate ai Concerti» ► segnalazione Made In PoP ◄ Ω  ROCKAFELLA rock party Ω FISHMARKET via Fra Paolo Sarpi 37 PADOVA ΩSABATO 27 Gennaio Ω Iguana Eventi vi invita a ROCKAFELLA party adrenalinico dedicato a tutte le sfumature del rock, sul palco il live de GLINCOLTI ottima band in bilico tra progressive, psychedelia e blues, il tutto mescolato con gusto ed eleganza. dopo il concerto djset Fabio Gerbino. https://www.facebook.com/events/703814683162887/ ► SETTIMANA  ◄ ► GIOVEDÌ 25 Gennaio ᴥ CA'SANA Cibo Arte e Cultura via SS. Fabiano e Sebastiano 13 PADOVA stasera ospite MARTA DELL'ANNO con il suo universo trip hop cantautorale. ᴥ GREENWICH Pub via S.Andrea 48 CURTAROLO (Pd) serata di band emergenti in cui suoneranno SCYTHER (Ve) MODERN AGE Storytellers (Pd) AENTHROPYA (Pd). ᴥ La MOSCA BIANCA via Dosso 33 PORTO VIRO (Ro) stravagante folkpop per L'ISTRICE band culto della zona. ᴥ DUMP largo Bailo 7 Treviso da Norimberga arrivano qui NICK & JUNE folk pop tra melodie euforiche e liriche malinconiche. ᴥ Teatro ASTRA via G. Ancillotto 16 San DONÀ di Piave (Ve) ore 21 andrà in scena la performance artistica tra musica, arte e scienza "MICROMEGA" ideata dall'artista Alessandro Zannier e la sua band OTTODIX Ensemble. ᴥ EL CABALLITO via Pastengo 17 BUSSOLENGO (Vr) doppio concerto stasera, in apertura il cantautore LAURINO e a seguire rock-afrobeat per i 3TONS. ► VENERDÌ 26 Gennaio ᴥ VIRGO Club Live Rock via Padana 32 SANT'ANGELO di Piove di Sacco (Pd) prima serata ART SHELTER un rifugio per la creatività, ci saranno i concerti per REPLACE the BATTERY (indie/shoegaze/In The Bottle Records) e MATTATOIO5 (postrock/Pd), la performance della ballerina Samuela Barbieri e l'expo foto di Nicola Paccagnella. ᴥ BISTROCK via Rometta 13 San MARTINO di Lupari (Pd) grande ospite sarà il cantautore Umberto Maria GIARDINI solo voce e chitarra a promuovere il suo ultimo disco "Il giorno che muore". ᴥ Circolo NADIR piazza Gasparotto 10 PADOVA serata dedicata alle gemme dell'underground locale, ospiti la band postpunk LINDUSTRIA e la one/girl/band ANNABIT indietronica. ᴥ BERLINO Bar via Ognissanti 83 PADOVA rassegna Acoutic Vibes realizzata in collaborazione con Fishmarket e Free Sound Music, ad aprire le "ostilità" CAFÈ DESORDRE (Vr) e FEYDAN (Tv). ᴥ LABORATORIO I'M via Brustolon 3 ABANO Terme (Pd) in collaborazione con EverywhereGigs saranno qui i giovani torinesi EUGENIO in Via DI GIOIA folk rock, in apertura i locals MEDITERRANEA NADIR. ᴥ RICKY’s Pub via Commerciale 12 ABBAZIA PISANI Villa del Conte (Pd) data in "casa" per festeggiare il compleanno ONE/MAN/PIER il cantabarista. ᴥ Cso PEDRO via Ticino 5 PADOVA dalle 19 in collaborazione con Trivel seconda Metal-Punk Fest in cui suoneranno, su due palchi, le band RAW, REALITY SLAP, DANNY TREJO, ORGAN, BEELZEBEAT, CIORAN, WRONG WAY to DIE, METHEDRINE, FIERCE, SWALLOW, SHELF LIFE e TUTTO BRUCIA. ᴥ Le CHAT NOIR via Silvestri 36 ROVIGO all'angolo con viale Trento seconda serata in collaborazione con Dimora Records, suoneranno le band HUMAN SUIT synthpop e GOD is in the RAIN electropop. ᴥ Taberna SALIS piazza XX Settembre CRESPINO (Ro) live session acustica per i BOTTEGA del COMPENSATO indie/reggae/folk. ᴥ EDEN Cafè via XV Luglio TREVISO gemme indie-pop per il duo milanese AQUARAMA, prossimi ad un tour europeo. ᴥ OUTSIDER Pub via S.Cassiano 72 QUINTO di Treviso (Tv) blues che canta di perdenti e di voodoo per il grande Mr. WOB & the CANES. ᴥ CA' San BARTO via Boscalto 50 RESANA (Tv) rock alternativo con testi in italiano per i SOMMOSSA prossimi alla publiccazione del disco d'esordio. ᴥ The WHISHING WELLS viale Repubblica 156 TREVISO questa sera alternative rock con gli IYV storica band trevigiana. ᴥ Bar al CASTELLO strada Brussa 501 CAORLE (Ve) da Capota grande accoppiata di one/man/band rock'n'roll, gli scatenati VINNIE CROWLEY e WATED PIDO. ᴥ Laboratorio MORION salizada San Francesco del a Vigna VENEZIA Lagoonar presenta musica giovane e fresca per due interessanti band, i FREEZ (suf/garage/VI) e HEROIN/VANCOUVER (indie/wave/PN) a seguire djset Ragazzi del Tunnel. ᴥ BOCCIODROMO via A.Rossi 198 VICENZA release party per i COLLA indie/alternative/punk accompagnati per l'occasione da A FOREST MIGHTY BLACK, i ROOKIE e IMMELMANN. ᴥ GROOVE via Martiri della Libertà LUGO di Vicenza (Vi) si festeggia il terzo compleanno del locale con i grandiosi live dei locals SAVANA BEAT CLUB e il rhythm'n'blues The MIDNIGHT KINGS + djset Barbarella. ᴥ TOTEM Club via Vecchia Ferriera 135 VICENZA Vicenza Underground presenta una serata seventies in cui suoneranno le band ODD-REY e COQUINE MARQUET a seguire djset tematico. ᴥ TERZO PONTE Arci via Ceramica 7 BASSANO del Grappa (Vi) prog rock muscolare è ciò che propongono i MAD FELLAZ, sul palco stasera. ᴥ LUCA's Bar via Jolanda 122 STROPPARI di Tezze sul Brenta (Vi) rockabilly per il mascherato LOW RANGER in duo con il suo batterista "equino". ᴥ Osteria S'CIAVINARO via Pertini 15 VOLPINO di Zimella (Vr) spazio all'alternative rock di due band di recente formazione, SOMÌA e WE ARE NOT ALONE. ► SABATO 27 Gennaio ᴥ BAHNHOF Live via Sant'Antonio 34 MONTAGNANA (Pd) in collaborazione con Botteghe Barranco rock psychedelico con BLACK SNAKE MOAN one/man/band e i mitici MAGIC CIGARETTES garage/psych/punk. ᴥ BLACK LOTUS Pub via Cardinale Agostini 109 San MARTINO di Lupari (Pd) accoppiata punkrock qui stasera, FDP e FRATELLI RAPINA. ᴥ RICKY’s Pub via Commerciale 12 ABBAZIA PISANI Villa del Conte (Pd) insolita serata rock contiminato da elettronica con il giovane duo HUMAN SUIT e gli energici HITS4HEAD. ᴥ GRIND HOUSE via Longhin 37 PADOVA notte di sonorità sferraglianti con la band vicentina ARCANA OPERA folk prog noir letterario. ᴥ PICCOLO Bar via Domenico Angeli 24 ROVIGO stravagante folkpop per L'ISTRICE band culto locale. ᴥ NASTY BOYS via Pellicciaio 4 TREVISO evento importantissimo per gli appasionati del psychobilly, saranno qui infatti i celebri DEMENTED ARE GO capostipiti gallesi del genere. ᴥ CATEN Pub via San Pio X 208 CASTELFRANCO Veneto (Tv) alternative rock molto per AFA intenso trio dell'alta padovana. ᴥ Birreria OLD SALOON via Feltrina 19 PEDEROBBA (Tv) serata stoner doom con l'accoppiata RUDHEN (Tv) e JAHBULONG (Vr). ᴥ Osteria TOCCHETTO via Risorgimento 27 MONTEBELLUNA (Tv) grande serata in vista qui, approdano due grandi band, i trevigiani KIRLIAN (sci-core) e il trio ROBOX (jazz-core) con membri di One Dimensional Man, TdO e altro. ᴥ Bar RADIO GOLDEN piazza San Martino 13 CONEGLIANO (Tv) ospite musicale Franco SERENA storico leader de I Ragazzi dai Capelli Verdi. ᴥ LIGHTHOUSE Pub via Noalese Sud 2 NOALE (Ve) ormai veneto d'adozione suonerà al faro l'australiano SIM MARTIN, già leader dei Stovetop. ᴥ CHINASKI Pub via Cadorna STRETTI di Eraclea (Ve) sul palco The WHIPPERS, per loro Soul/Rhythm&Blues con una calda voce femminile. ᴥ Osteria CARAMEL via Industrie II 2 MEOLO (Ve) serata punk rock che vedranno suonare BIKINI CACTUS punkrock e RESPIRO NOCIVO skapunk. ᴥ ARCADIA Csa via Lago di Tovel 18 SCHIO (Vi) osannati della bibbia Stereogum, saranno qui a presentare il loro disco "Contravveleno" i grandiosi HHAVAHH darkwave in apertura il local ALBERTO ALMAS + aftershow Matteo Vallicelli (The Soft Moon). ᴥ CENTRO STABILE di CULTURA via Leogra 4 San VITO di Leguzzano (Vi) dalla fredda regione siberiana di Tuva arriva la sciamana del canto armonico SAINKHO NAMTCHYLAK. ᴥ Bar ASTICHELLO via Are 34 SANDRIGO (Vi) super concerto con le glorie locali punkrock I_GOT_I risorti e pronti ad incendiare le scene con il supporto dei RATBAG ᴥ Circolo MESA via L.Da Vinci 50 MONTECCHIO Maggiore (Vi) sonorità punkrock con le band SPAVENTAPASSERE e ANIMALOS. ᴥ VINILE Club via Capitano Alessio 92 ROSÀ (Vi) serata dedicata alle sonorità nineties, ci saranno i concerti per LO STRANO FRUTTO (già Muleta) e ZAGREB che presentano il loro nuovo disco "Palude" a seguire djset tematico. ᴥ K2 music place strada Pelosa 183 VICENZA alternative rock noise per gli ex-Prozac+ SICK TAMBURO (LaTempesta dischi) con il supporto dei DEEZGRAZIA. ᴥ COHEN Pub via Scarsellini 9 VERONA stasera ospite MARTA DELL'ANNO con il suo universo trip hop cantautorale. ᴥ Club IL GIARDINO via Cao di Prà 82 LUGAGNANO di Sona (Vr) tornano ad esibirsi qui i celeberrimi BALLETTO di BRONZO leggenda del prog italico. ᴥ Colorificio KROEN via Pacinotti 19 Zai VERONA seconda serata wave/goth/dark DANCE of YOUTH con il live degli entusiasmanti TALK TO HER freschi di pubblicazione EP per SHYREC, a seguire djset Pherdi, Dj B e Scarlett Groove. ► DOMENICA 28 Gennaio ᴥ PUNKY REGGAE Pub via Barbarigo 15 LIEDOLO di San Zenone degli Ezzelini (Tv) dalle 17 puntuali Cordial Massacre e Pedepalooza events vi aspettano per i concerti dei locals SOMMOSSA e il duo MOOD (Upupa records). ᴥ BOCCIODROMO via A.Rossi 198 VICENZA un tranquillo pomeriggio HC, dalle 18 live DECACY + BRIGHT END + i portoghesi REALITY SLAP. ᴥ CA'SANA Cibo Arte e Cultura via SS. Fabiano e Sebastiano 13 PADOVA dalle 19 aperitivosolidale di supporto a questo fantastico posto che è Ca'Sana vittima di un vigliacco intimidatorio, Made In PoP sostiene e supporta con tutte le proprie forze. ᴥ ARG0 16 Arci Club via delle Industrie 27 MARGHERA (Ve) Power Acoustic Sunday dalle 19 il progetto SCIAMANICA con l'etnocoreografa Jennifer Cabrera Fernandez e il musicista Giorgio Schiavon, a seguire l'insieme Bittolo Bon, Vignato, Santimone, Benedetti e Grillini. ᴥ GOTO STORTO via Villanova 8 TREBASELEGHE (Pd) aperitilive i MOLE MOONWALKTET band afrorock bellunese. ᴥ GROOVE via Martiri della Libertà LUGO di Vicenza (Vi) torna l'aperitivo acustico della domenica, con ospite il cantautore Mr.ALBOH. ᴥ Osteria AL CASTELLO via Rossi A. 15 CHIUPPANO (Vi) aperitivo powerpop con gli ex-Melt PYJAMARAMA. ᴥ Circolo NADIR piazza Gasparotto 10 PADOVA in collaborazione con associazione ARTuro ospite la cantautrice CHIARA PATRONELLA accompagnata da Nereo Fiori e Federico Torrisi. ► LUNEDÌ 29 Gennaio ᴥ On & oN. ► MARTEDÌ 30 Gennaio ᴥ Libreria LIMERICK via Tiziano Aspetti 13 PADOVA dalle 19:30 il bravo giornalista Alessandro Liccardo (Gold Soundz) presenta un libro dedicato ai Tears for Fears prossimi al ritorno sulle scene. ᴥ Cantine de l'ARENA piazzetta Scalette Rubiani VERONA grande ospite, con il suo nuovo progetto, il bravissimo Maurizio CAMARDI, musicista amato dallo scrittore Massimo Carlotto, e i suoi BREX-it. ᴥ Colorificio KROEN via Pacinotti 19 Zai VERONA data unica italiana per i MEAT WAVE frenetica band postpunk emozionale da Chicago e prodotti da Steve Albini, in apertura i REGARDE. ► MERCOLEDÌ 31 Gennaio ᴥ BISTROCK via Rometta 13 San MARTINO di Lupari (Pd) altro grande ospite nel giro di pochi giorni, sarà qui il polistrumentista e cantautore romano THE NIRO accompgnato dal violoncellista Mattia Boschi per una performance particolare. ᴥ SHERWOOD OPEN LIVE vicolo Pontecorvo PADOVA grande ospite stasera GIOVANNI SUCCI artista avant-garde "con Ghiaccio" già membro dei Bachi da Pietra. • https://telegram.me/madeinpop/ • https://www.facebook.com/Shyrec/ • https://www.facebook.com/threeblackbirdsfree/ • https://www.facebook.com/NewsletterMadeinpop/ • http://shyrec.bandcamp.com/

[myhikari21things]

Jory Marquet for  A Year of Theme Posts

Jory Marquet from the Dollanganger Family series (1979-1986) by V.C. Andrews for August 19, 2017 August, 2017 Favorite Character Theme.

So the books that Jory was in have been adapted into television films, but I was unable to find a decent picture of him alone which is why there is no picture.

Jory makes his first appearance in the second book of the Dollanganger family Petals on the Wind (1980) where he is the first born son to Cathy and her recently deceased first husband Julian. He loves Cathy’s second husband Paul Sheffield as his Father since Jory never knew his birth Father and quickly becomes a big brother when Cathy becomes pregnant with a second son with the Father being her Mother’s second husband Bart Winslow.

In the third book If There Be Thornes (1981) Jory becomes a more prominent character and is seen by his younger brother Bart to be the perfect child. Jory has also followed in his Mother and Father’s footsteps in wanting to become a dancer which causes Bart to hate him more. Unlike Bart, Jory does not latch onto Corrine Foxworth who had recently moved in close to the family home and tells her to leave his brother alone when he becomes suspicious of her behavior. 

In the fourth book Seeds of Yesterday (1984) Jory has grown up and married his childhood sweetheart Melody and has a successful dancing career with this wife as his partner. In preparation for Bart’s twenty fifth birthday party Jory and Melody go to visit him at the newly constructed Foxworth Hall (the original burned down years before) where Bart tells him that he wants his older brother to perform a dance at his wedding.  This dance would prove to be almost fatal for Jory who is severally injured when a prop falls on him breaking his back and leaving him incapable of standing let alone dancing. Following Jory’s accident Melody begins an affair with Bart and after giving birth to Jory’s twin children leaves Foxworth Hall and does not return.

While trying to raise his children without Melody’s help Jory’s relationship with Bart continues to strain, but never completely breaks. Eventually Jory finds help to raise his children and gains a new love interest in the process when Cathy hires a woman named Toni to help take care of him and eventually Jory and Toni marry after Toni finds out that she pregnant with his child.

In the Lifetime film of If There Be Thrones (2015), Jory was portrayed by Jedidiah Goodacre and in the Lifetime film of Seeds of Yesterday (2015) an older Jory was portrayed by Anthony Konechny.

[fourteenthdancer]

the signs as flowers in the attic characters

(more broadly, characters from v.c. andrew's "dollanganger saga")

aries: jory marquet

taurus: bart winslow

gemini: cindy sheffield

cancer: chris jr dollanganger

leo: cathy dollanganger

virgo: bart sheffield

libra: corrine foxworth

scorpio: julian marquet

sagittarius: olivia foxworth

capricorn: paul sheffield

aquarius: melodie marquet

pisces: carrie dollanganger

[kaitlinj16]

The Dollanganger Saga

Characters' Full Names

🖤🖤🖤

[seidkonaz]

You see, I'm not real, I never was, and I never will be. I can't face up to the kind of cruel reality that destroys lives and leaves behind broken dreams.

Melodie Marquet. Seeds of Yesterday, V. C. Andrews

[princessnelrita]

365 days of the Dollanganger Saga: day 141

[kaitlinj16]

V.C. Andrew's Seeds of Yesterday

2015

🖤🖤🖤

[kaitlinj16]

"You have a lot of nerve judging me when you have done much worse."

-Melodie Marquet

[kaitlinj16]

Seeds of Yesterday (2015) 💕