#spara

[anawkwardgalnamedtarazan]

👻"Help us... our Chalice..."🏆

Just Miss Chalice attending the most conflicting family reunion ever.

As the reincarnation of the Legendary Chalice, Miss Chalice tends to have visions and dreams of LC's ancestors and fallen Calix Animi members, and every time they call out her, thinking she is still their leader. And it terrifies her.

✨BONUS💫

w/o fx:

[futurirubati]

💔

[editsmaite]

Spara Wine

[the-giant-prisoner]

ohhhhh i wonder how this will improve their communication 👀👀👀👀

Valentine nodded eagerly, pleased with his own quick thinking. He pointed to himself again. “My full title is Prince Valentine of the Vesper Kingdom, son of the great Robert the Third.” Valentine chuckled, amused as the little kitten only grew confused- named Sparrow of all things, how ironic for a cat.

“...Valentine?” Sparrow repeated, pointing uncertainly at Prince Valentine.

Valentine hummed, giving a nod. “Yes, I suppose just ‘Valentine’ will do, given the circumstances.” Valentine drummed his fingers on the empty barrel, still grasped in his hands. Now what? It wasn’t exactly easy to gather more information about Sparrow if the little lad wasn’t speaking.

A certain part of Valentine wasn’t certain why he was so eager to converse with Sparrow, either. After all, Sparrow was still part of the dastardly magical race keeping him captive, but a strange part of Valentine seemed to trust this little cat wasn’t currently a threat. Perhaps it had to do with finally putting a name to that teensy little face.

“Can I have that beche?” A tiny voice spoke up. Valentine blinked, surprised that this time, he seemed to comprehend almost a whole sentence. Of course, it was perhaps helped along by the fact Sparrow was pointing to the barrel, looking like a child attempting to get assistance reaching the cookie jar on the highest shelf.

Valentine chuckled at that visual, setting the barrel down in front of Sparrow. The cat figure nodded. “Parche curr.” With this bizarre declaration, Sparrow tipped over the barrel, rolling it with ease towards the tiny stairs lining Valentine’s prison.

Deciding to test his own understanding, Valentine pointed at the barrel himself. “Can I have that?”

Sparrow paused, looking back at Valentine as if he were a bit mad. For a moment, Valentine wondered if his pronunciation had been off, or perhaps the cat just thought it odd Valentine would give up the barrel and ask for it back in the same breath. It seemed the second option was more likely as Sparrow nudged the barrel forwards, rolling it towards Valentine as if to say ‘be my guest’.

Valentine grinned, Sparrow flinching back as he leaned forwards to catch the barrel. He winced for a moment, having forgotten his chains’ length as the brace pulled uncomfortably at Valentine’s wrist, the barrel just out of reach.

“Oh come on.” Valentine huffed. This was ridiculous. Valentine flattened himself to the ground, reaching out his fingertips to slowly brush the barrel closer, feeling a bit ridiculous. This position wasn’t exactly becoming of a prince, and having an audience made it worse.

So involved in his task, Valentine didn’t see Sparrow approach, coming to give Valentine a helping hand and push the barrel closer. Instead, as Valentine gave an extra lunge, wrapping his fingers around the far edge of the barrel, his fingertips brushed against something unbelievably soft-

“NO!”

Valentine frowned, only having a moment to try and feel what was pressed against the barrel before Sparrow’s frantic cries caught up with him. Valentine let go, the barrel naturally rolling towards his large boot, revealing a ruffled Sparrow on the other side.

Both boys flinched back. Valentine realized what he had touched as Sparrow frantically scurried back, brushing at the fur atop his head.

“I- I’m terribly sorry.” Valentine apologized with a wince. The Prince fought to keep any amusement from showing externally, despite the fact that watching Sparrow hiss like a proper kitten was quite the sight. “I did not intend to grab you, just the barrel. Though I must admit your fur is terribly soft. Is it fur? Oh wait, are my inquisitions rude?”

Not surprisingly, Sparrow didn’t seem to be comprehending anything Valentine was saying. The catboy seemed much more rattled from their encounter, pressing against the far wall as if to get as much distance between them as possible whilst Sparrow got his breathing back under control.

“...Sparrow?” Valentine asked. Sparrow’s eyes met his gaze immediately, responding to his name. Valentine leaned closer, frowning down at his visitor. “Are you alright?”

[ask-chara-house]

((it’s been a while, huh?))

[imperfectlix]

Qua va tutto a puttane

eppure va di male in peggio

Decidi se vuoi amarmi

oppure spararmi nel petto

[ayasakurada]

𝑠𝑎𝑦 𝑠𝑜 // with @wilcwx​

Enrolada em sua toalha, Aya arremessou-se em sua cama. Bateu algumas vezes em seu colchão e um de seus gatos prontamente acolheu-a em um afego. — Sabe Haru, eu não sei o que estava passando na minha cabeça quando aceitei esse encontro... — Disse em japonês para a gatinha preta e branca. Um encontro a cegas. Não que fosse exatamente uma novidade para a mulher que sempre via-se colocada naquele tipo de situação por seus amigos. Aya era conhecida por ser solteira desde sempre, mas o pior era seu costume de insistir se apaixonar apenas por pessoas que não conhecia. Já era costume, via algum vizinho novo no corredor e seu coração acelerava com os eventos que inventava em sua cabeça, até imaginar um término para o relacionamento inexistente e nunca mais querer vê-lo. Sabia que esse comportamento nunca havia sido saudável, Aya apenas não acreditava que merecia um relacionamento bom com alguém que gostasse de si.

Secou os cabelos com um jato morno, o inverno ainda persistia apesar de já ser oficialmente primavera em Nova York. Abriu seu armário em busca de algo para usar. O guarda-roupas estava cheio de roupas cinza e sem graça que usava normalmente. — Será bom vestir algo bonito para varear, certo? — Conversou com a felina que incessantemente roçava em suas pernas. Meias-calças pretas e grossas, um vestido curto preto e um sobretudo vermelho. Olhou-se no espelho enquanto maquiava-se pensando que provavelmente parecia uma desajustada e, apesar de ser exatamente isso, não era a impressão que queria passar no primeiro encontro. De qualquer forma, já estava atrasada e não teria tempo de vestir-se novamente, então fechou os botões do sobretudo, escondendo-se completamente. Colocou meia grossas que manteriam seus pés quentes durante a noite, esperou que aquele encontro não terminasse bem demais pois seria constrangedor tirar as botas e mostrar meias de patinho rosa.

A viagem de trem até o bar combinado demorou cerca de vinte minutos. Ao chegar viu seu encontro rapidamente, andando até ele e suspirando pelo caminho. — Oi, você deve ser o Blaze! Eu sou a Aya, é um prazer conhecê-lo! — Disse com um sorriso amplo, as mãos seguravam uma a outra, os dedos apertados até ficarem vermelhos. 

[nondevetrovarminessuno]

Volevi il fuoco? Scusa, Cheryl Blossom. La mia specialità è il ghiaccio.

Veronica Lodge; Riverdale