#A death that is unafraid to destroy all the worlds to find her love is um..

[helreginn]

What do you think it would take to CORRUPT my character?

Havi, vanished Lucifer from Existence. He's not dead, not alive, he simply does not exist any longer.

But he does make a point to let Hel know he's concious. Wandering away in nothingness. This is the price of rebellion.

"If he wanted the fabric of reality to remain intact, he should have said so. And left my heart to me. I can pay his price. His coffers are a coin purse next to mine."

[ceramic-galanter]

Hermitcraft Guide: Transcript/accessible version

Hermitcraft is a vanilla style* multiplayer server that has been running in a season format since 2012. Each season, the players move to a new world and start anew, meaning now’s the perfect time to start watching!

The server is invite only, and new people can join only when the existing Hermits unanimously agree that they would be a good fit. The Hermits have regular meetings to discuss new ideas and any concerns.

I don’t recommend watching every episode by every Hermit. There’s shows like HermitCraft Recap to keep you up to date! Don’t feel obligated to watch everything, just have fun!

* the server is mostly unmodded, but in recent seasons, the Hermits have been implementing custom items and texture packs for the sake of storytelling

Individual hermit descriptions under the cut

Descriptions are all edited by myself, with some contributions from other people :)

Hermit: BdoubleO100

Quote: “Axe wielding maniac, that’s me!”

Flags: USA

Description: Bdubs is a master at using unconventional blocks in his highly detailed builds.

It’s a point of pride to always be the one to sleep and skip the night before the others can.

He’s often teased about his height despite not being the shortest Hermit.

Hermit: Cubfan135

Quote: “There is redstone back there… Basically, it does stuff.”

Flags: USA

Description: Cub is really good at basically every aspect of Minecraft, and always goes big in his projects. With Scar, he created a capitalistic empire and then decided he didn’t care for industry afterward, since he had already won. Cub then became a freeloading basement dweller. He enjoys confusing other people with strange antics.

Hermit: Docm77

Quote: “We will crush them with our redstone spaghetti”

Flags: Germany

Description: A bit of an intense guy, Doc is unafraid to play the scary villain. Don’t let that fool you – he’s a big softie. His Twitter is 50% “hey who wants to see the game-breaking death machine I built” and 50% about his adorable kid, nicknamed “Doccy”

His arm was canonically destroyed by the Minecraft dev Dinnerbone back in 2013.

[Desciption provided by anon]

Hermit: Ethoslab

Quote: “Xisuma is okay with pretty much everything I do if he doesn’t find out about it.”

Flags: Canada

Description: Etho is a Minecraft O.G. and the creator of many of the redstone designs that everyone uses. He’s a very dedicated player with an unconventional style, and the other Hermits are a bit obsessed with him. He’s your favourite YouTuber’s favourite YouTuber. And there’s a reason for that.

Hermit: FalseSymmetry

Quote: The Queen of Hearts, Heads and Body Parts

Flags: United Kingdom

Description: Very approachable and friendly, but has a reputation for her confidence in PVP. False works on very large, thematically strong builds. She was the first Minecraft Championship participant to achieve multiple consecutive wins.

Hermit: Geminitay

Quote: “How am I supposed to Live Laugh Love in these conditions!?”

Flags: Canada, Bisexual

Description: Gem is a talented builder with an appreciation of cute aesthetics that’s matched only by her thirst for blood. She’s truly earned the descriptor “Geminislay.”

She joined in season 8, and has effectively struck fear into the hearts of the other Hermits, particularly Etho, despite her wholesome personality.

Hermit: Grian

Quote: “Not everything I do has to start a war, okay? Sometimes I just want to start a society of sewer mole people.”

Flags: United Kingdom

Description: Grian always builds big and pranks bigger. He delights in nothing less than being a public nuisance. This starts (good-natured) wars within the server repeatedly.

He’s very social, but is basically glued to Mumbo and Scar. Infamously never bothers with the backs of his builds.

Hermit: Impulse SV

Quote: "I hate being bad at stuff!"

Flags: USA

Description: Impulse gets a reputation for being super nice all the time but he will hold a grudge forever.

He once moved his entire base up by one block because he thought it would make it look better (it did)

One season he ate crystals.

[Description provided by sudden-memory-loss]

Hermit: Hypnotizd

Quote: “And then I found an enderchest here, it’s got a lot of good stuff in it!”

Flags: USA

Description: Hypno's one of the more reserved Hermits, sticking to himself (+ bothering xB and Jevin). He's extremely laid-back and has a little bit of a deadpan silly sense of humor. He’s a very observant guy who builds geometric and rustic creations. His post-annotated runs of the minigame Decked Out 2 are great if you want to see someone actively break down how they play!

[Description provided by anon]

Hermit: Iskall85

Quote: “Let’s not end it on a goodbye, let’s end it on a Hallo”

Flags: Sweden

Description: A hardworking builder and redstone engineer. Loves making minigames, most of which revolve around gambling. Iskall is a dedicated hater of diorite blocks. Creator of the Vault Hunters modpack and server(s), which he has spent most his time playing recently.

Hermit: JoeHills

Quote: “Sufficiently advanced bothering-each-other is indistinguishable from teamwork”

Flags: USA

Description: Joe is a strange person, and his brand of absurdity cannot easily be put into words. He typically ends his videos with a poem or strange moral. Joe makes funny low energy videos, perfect for those who want to watch something laid-back.

Hermit: iJevin

Quote: “It’s actually pretty straightforward and almost easy. Sometimes.”

Flags: USA

Description: Unashamed. Just in general. A real hard worker who’s willing to destroy a massive project and start over. This commitment carries over into prank wars, which escalate to truly ludicrous heights.

Hermit: Keralis

Quote: “Let’s take the Black Death. I like the sound of that.”

Flags: Sweden, Poland

Description: Keralis favours modern, industrial-styled builds that carry the impression of wealth and prestige. His creations always have a strong sense of life to them. Keralis has a habit of referring to the others with silly nicknames such as “Shashwammy” and  “Bubbles”,

Hermit: PearlescentMoon

Quote: “Yeah, I’m a little suspicious of myself to be honest.”

Flags: Australia

Description: Pearl is perhaps one of the best builders in all of MCYT. Her works are awe-inspiring in scale, but really shine in their details. A long-time friend of Grian, she joined HC in season 8 and fits right in, with a unique energy that’s full of fun. She is always up for a light bit of pranking or teasing, with unstoppable chaotic energy when she’s up at 5am for events.

[Description provided by cerealisafunbath and anon]

Hermit: Mumbo Jumbo

Quote: “If I forget, slap me. With a cold, vegan fishcake”

Flags: United Kingdom

Description: Mumbo is best known for his eccentric redstone creations. He’s sometimes too ambitious for his own good – his ideas blow up in his face at the worst possible moments. He’s got a lovable awkward energy and strange, extremely British mannerisms.

Hermit: GoodTimesWithScar

Quote: “A laugh is worth far more than a diamond.”

Flags: USA

Description: Scar’s building skills and storytelling will make believe in magic and want to see what he’ll do next. Scar can pull pranks and act the villain as good as anyone else on Hermitcraft, but no matter what role Scar is playing, you will have a good time. He’s banned from Canada, so he banned the nation of Canada from his theme park.

Scar IRL has a chronic disease that he’s very open about, and uses a wheelchair. Check out his day in the life videos!

[Description provided by anon]

Hermit: Rendog

Quote: “Have a lovely day warmbloods, I’m off to sharpen my bones.”

Flags: United Kingdom, South Africa

Description: Ren is the hermit most likely to jump in to some over-the-top storytelling, mixing it with his regular content for some impressive arcs. He’s played a lot of roles, from mind-controlled business tycoon to time travelling hippie.

Hermit: StressMonster101

Quote: “Come and chase me boys! I’m going to murder you!”

Flags: United Kingdom

Description: Stress is known for describing everything she loves as “gorgeous!” It’s definitely her catchphrase.

She uses a lot of pink and purple, and loves bright fantasy aesthetics. She’s closest with Iskall, who she will bother at every opportunity.

Hermit: Tango Tek

Quote: “Would I put a tu-tu on my Fifi? Come on!”

Flags: USA

Description: Tango is the creator of the in-Minecraft minigame Decked-Out, which everyone on the server is obsessed with. He’s a lover of all things dramatic and explosive. Tango is hungry for feedback and improvement, and values honesty about his work. World's best minigame creator and world's worst minigame player. Master of making strange noises.

[Desciption provided by sudden-memory-loss]

Hermit: VintageBeef

Quote: “I respectfully decline your creepy ways.”

Flags: Canada

Description: Beef is the most enthusiastic user of the mechanic that allows players to make massive builds into tiny map-based pixel art. He uses this for a lot of different purposes, from wallpaper to custom card games. It takes a lot of dedication, which he has in spades. He's oblivious in the best way possible. He’s walking in circles, he’s misplacing items, he’s having fun.

[Description provided by two anonymous contributors]

Hermit: WelsKnight

Quote: “I’ve got a fever and the only prescription is trading card games.”

Flags: USA

Description: As his name suggests, Wels (knight) has a strong interest in medieval aesthetics, which he uses heavily in his builds. He’s also recorded sea shanties. Former paralegal and court reporter for the US army.

Hermit: xBCrafted

Quote: “Awwww yeah!”

Flags: USA

Description: xB posts often, about two or three times a week. His videos always go over his thought process a lot more than anyone else. His builds have a strong focus on environmental storytelling.

Hermit: XisumaVoid

Quote: “I’ve got derp on the mind”

Flags: United Kingdom

Description: Xisuma tends to pick a theme for his big projects and always wears a matching costume. He describes himself as a big derp, and no one agrees on how to pronounce his name.

He doesn’t reset his episode number each season, so he’ll be starting season 10 with episode #1128! Xisuma is the server’s admin, which is a big responsibility without the powertrip due to the Hermits’ commitment to group decision making.

Hermit: ZombieCleo

Quote: "I'll break you legs"

Flags: United Kingdom, Bisexual. Cleo uses She/They pronouns, but I do not know if they identify as nonbinary.

Description: Cleo enjoys detail work, being the number-one user of the posable armour stand tweak, which she uses to make dioramas and statues. They have a rather dry, mature sense of humour. Formerly a schoolteacher. Cleo is close friends with Joe, and the two regularly stream activities such as crafting together

Hermit: Zedaph Plays

Quote: “Is this a bad idea? Yes. Am I gonna do it anyway? Yes.”

Flags: United Kingdom

Description: Focuses more on making his own fun than on traditional builds. Zedaph is the human embodiment of an explosion happening in another room and hearing someone yell out "it's fine!". A very polite and confusing mad scientist. He does the wildest things just because he can. His editing style is fun and creative, featuring stop-motion montages.

[Description provided by sudden-memory-loss and anon]

New hermits:

Hermit: Smallishbeans

Flags: United Kingdom

Description: Joel is a masterful builder and intimidating fighter. Has very sarcastic deadpan humour. He likes to bully everyone affectionately. Married to fellow MCYTber LDshadowlady (Lizzie)

Hermit: Skizzleman

Flags: USA

Description: Skizz is a beacon of positivity and energy. Strong dad energy. He and Impulse have been friends for more than 25 years. Forms a lot of acronym groups with the Hermits (ZITS, GIGS) and comes up with nicknames for everyone

_

In Loving Memory of

Hermit: Tinfoil Chef

Flags: USA

Description:

A beloved member of Hermitcraft since season 2, TFC passed in 2022.

“Five blocks at a time…

Punctuated with a torch…

Five more once again…

TinfoilChef worked at his own

speed, in his own way…

May we all remember him

in our own ways by striving…

to live unhurried by unwarranted comparisons to those around

and bring joy to others

making the art we want to create.”

[Poem by an anonymous Hermit, likely Joe]

Thank you for reading!

[tex-treasure-chamber]

Maiden Mother Crone

Seras Sir Integra Santana

Drawn by @judasiscarithot as a comm for me ♡

Seras - Maiden 🌒

The Maiden embodies growth and fresh potential. She represents the beauty of innocence, self-confidence, and exploration. Seras' story is about her finding fresh potential even in the most dire of situations. She grows into her own person, exploring what being a vampire could possibly mean to her, and in so doing, she gains self confidence and power to embrace who she is. She is undead, but she is still growing, still reaching forever upward, finding herself with every step of the way and never losing her natural innocence, her faith in all that is good in the world despite the horrors she faces.

Sir Integra - Mother 🌕

The Mother brings forth nurturing, responsibility, and adulthood. She is grounded, with eyes set toward the future, determined to raise the next generation and ensure they thrive. Sir Integra embodies The Mother in the fierce, unabashedly relentless and determined attitude she holds toward destroying vampires. She knows who she is and she carries the weight of the world on her shoulders. All of humanity, to her, is her children, and like any mother, she is willing to risk everything, put herself on the line, to kill, to protect what matters most to her. She knows her purpose, and she is radiant in her splendour and her fury.

Santana - Crone 🌘

The Crone governs aging, endings, death, and rebirth. She holds profound wisdom and guides others through example of her own transformation. As an ancient vampire, Santana's story is one of many endings, one after the other, as she watches centuries pass, empires rise and fall, mortals she dares to love, live and die. Although she herself never physically ages, her mind is a plethora of knowledge and wisdom of mortality and what it means to exist. She guides both Sir Integra and Seras as well as Father Anderson in their own personal life journeys, reminding them it's never too late to rebrand themselves into the people they want to be. Even with hundreds of years under her belt, Santana knows she can still change into something more, something better, and is unafraid to shed her old skin if need be.

Divider made by @sweetmelodygraphics ♡

[book--brackets]

Summaries under the cut

Jill's Ponies by Ruby Ferguson

Jill unexpectedly finds herself the proud owner of Farmer Clay's piebald pony. But that's when her problems begin because ponies are expensive. Where will she find the money?

The Strictest School in the World by Howard Whitehouse

 14-year-old pioneering aviatrix Emmaline Cayley is afraid of one plummeting to her doom. Fortunately, 12-year-old Robert Burns, an indestructible village boy, is not. Absurdly unafraid of bodily harm, "Rubberbones" is the ideal pilot for Emmaline's experiments with flight. But before Emmaline can perfect a flying machine with the aid of her new friend, she is sent off to St. Grimelda's School for Young Ladies -- to be cured of her decidedly unladylike ways. It is a school so strict, so severe, so forbidding that it makes the brutal misery in the tales of Charles Dickens look cheery by comparison. With a horrifying headmistress, terrifying teachers and food that is even worse than Aunt Lucy's, this medieval stronghold also houses a terrible secret and a mysterious way of keeping its prisoners, er, its students in line. All Emmaline can think of is escape. But no one has ever escaped from St. Grimelda's. And our heroine soon realizes that the only way out is to face her greatest fear.

TJ Young & the Orishas by Antoine Bandele

Fourteen-year-old TJ grew up normal in a secret community of gifted diviners in the heart of modern-day Los Angeles. His powerful sister was ordained to lead his people into a new age of prosperity, but her mysterious death in Nigeria threatens to destroy the very foundations of TJ's world.

Desperate to pick up where his sister left off and uncover the secrets behind her questionable death, TJ commits himself to unlocking the magical heritage that has always eluded him. So he enrolls in Camp Olosa-a remedial magic school for the divinely less-than-gifted in the humid swamps of New Orleans.

But little does he know, TJ is destined to cross paths with powerful spirits of old thought lost to the orishas.

Confessions of a So-Called Middle Child by Maria T. Lennon

Confessions of a So-Called Middle Child stars the hilariously cheeky reformed bully and tween hacker Charlie Cooper as she tries to ditch her middle-child reputation and make cool friends at her new school in Los Angeles. But being cool isn't as easy as it looks. Charlie has to face down the mean girls and decide between right and wrong once and for all when she learns the terrible truth behind Marta the Farta's bad attitude and loner status. And Charlie has to do it all in outfits meant for the runways!

Unicorns of the Mist by R. R. Russel

Deep in the heart of a mist-shrouded island, an impossible secret is about to be discovered.

Twig is used to feeling unwanted. Sent to live on a pony ranch for "troubled" girls on a misty, haunted island, Twig is about to discover the impossible — someone who needs her. Jolted awake from a bad dream, Twig follows the desperate whinny of a terrified horse out to the stables. There in the straw is a bleating little scrap of moonbeam. A silver-white filly with cloven hooves and a tiny, spiraling horn.

A baby unicorn.

Now Twig knows what secret is hiding in the island's mist: the last free unicorn herd. And a mysterious boy named Ben who insists that this impossible creature is now Twig's to care for. That she needs Twig's love and protection. Because there's something out there in the deep, dense shadows that's hunting for them...

Beatrice Bailey by Sandra Forrester

Beatrice Bailey is tall, skinny, and about to turn twelve years old. On that birthday she will get her official classification as a witch. But will she be named an ordinary Everyday Witch or a specially empowered Classical Witch? When the big day arrives, the Witches' Executive Committee can't decide how to classify her. At last, they agree that her Maximum Magic Level must be tested, and to pass the test she must break a spell that has been cast by the evil sorcerer, Dally Rumpe. Thus begins Beatrice's series of adventures. Breaking the spell takes Beatrice and her three best friends to several dangerous realms within the witches' sphere. In this tale, their main challenge is to get past an enchanted hedge of thorns and a fire-breathing dragon to undo the spell that has cast the land in snow and ice. Author Sandra Forrester promises further bewitching adventures in books to come. In each adventure, Beatrice makes new friends who help her when she goes on to face dangerous new encounters.

The Armourer's House by Rosemary Sutcliffe

If only she'd been born a boy, Tamsyn would never have been sent away to Uncle Gideon's - the armourer's - house when her grandmother died. She could have stayed by the wild sea that she loved with her Uncle Martin, the ship merchant.But instead, she is bound for busy, bustling Tudor London, and the armourer's house, far from the coast and far from her beloved ships. Homesick and lonely in the loud family of cousins, it isn't until she meets the strange old Wise Woman that Tamsyn is finally promised her "heart's desire"...

You Be the Jury by Marvin Miller

The reader is provided evidence for ten courtroom cases and must decide whether each defendant is guilty or innocent.

The O'Clock Tales by Enid Blyton

A magical collection of over forty tales. Join Sneaky the elf as he steals a growing spell and gets a terrible fright; or Snip and Snap the brownies as they play a trick on the Red Goblin; or lazy Kate as her bed takes her to school!

Cat School (or Goyangi Hakyo) by Kim Jin Kyung

Beodeul is a cat, and the story is about the cat school where Beodeul goes and learns how to live together with humans. It also tells of his travels to Japan, China, and India.

[richincolor]

We have a whopping FOURTEEN books on our radar for today! Check them out--you've got great odds you'll find something to add to your TBR list!

All This Twisted Glory (This Woven Kingdom #3) by Tahereh Mafi HarperCollins

As the long-lost heir to the Jinn throne, Alizeh has finally found her people—and she might’ve found her crown. Cyrus, the mercurial ruler of Tulan, has offered her his kingdom in a twisted exchange: one that would begin with their marriage and end with his murder. Cyrus’s dark reputation precedes him; all the world knows of his blood-soaked past. Killing him should be easy—and accepting his offer might be the only way to fulfill her destiny and save her people. But the more Alizeh learns of him, the more she questions whether the terrible stories about him are true. Ensnared by secrets, Cyrus has ached for Alizeh since she first appeared in his dreams many months ago. Now that he knows those visions were planted by the devil, he can hardly bear to look at her—much less endure her company. But despite their best efforts to despise each other, Alizeh and Cyrus are drawn together over and over with an all-consuming thirst that threatens to destroy them both. Meanwhile, Prince Kamran has arrived in Tulan, ready to exact revenge… Layered with exquisite tension and heart-stopping romance, All This Twisted Glory is the explosive third book in the captivating, bestselling This Woven Kingdom series.

ASAP by Axie Oh HarperTeen

Sori has worked her whole life to become a K-pop idol, until she realizes she doesn’t want a life forever in the spotlight. But that’s not actually up to Sori—she’s caught between her exacting mother’s entertainment company and her father’s presidential aspirations. And as the pressure to keep her flawless public image grows, the last person she should be thinking about is her ex-boyfriend. Nathaniel is off limits—she knows this. A member of one of the biggest K-pop bands in the world and forbidden from dating, he isn’t any more of an option now than he was two years ago. Still, she can’t forget that their whirlwind romance was the last time she remembers being really happy. Or that his family welcomed her into their home when she needed it most. . . . So when Nathaniel finds himself rocked by scandal, Sori offers him a hideaway with her. And back in close quarters, it’s hard to deny their old feelings. But when Sori gets an opportunity to break free from her parent’s expectations, she will have to decide: Is her future worth sacrificing for a second chance at love?

Bless the Blood: A Cancer Memoir by Walela Nehanda Kokila

A searing debut YA poetry and essay collection about a Black cancer patient who faces medical racism after being diagnosed with leukemia in their early twenties, for fans of Audre Lorde's The Cancer Journals and Laurie Halse Anderson's Shout . When Walela is diagnosed at twenty-three with advanced stage blood cancer, they're suddenly thrust into the unsympathetic world of tubes and pills, doctors who don’t use their correct pronouns, and hordes of "well-meaning" but patronizing people offering unsolicited advice as they navigate rocky personal relationships and share their story online. But this experience also deepens their relationship to their ancestors, providing added support from another realm. Walela's diagnosis becomes a catalyst for their self-realization. As they fill out forms in the insurance office in downtown Los Angeles or travel to therapy in wealthier neighborhoods, they begin to understand that cancer is where all forms of their oppression Disabled. Fat. Black. Queer. Nonbinary. In Bless the A Cancer Memoir, the author details a galvanizing account of their survival despite the U.S. medical system, and of the struggle to face death unafraid.

Bright Red Fruit by Safia Elhillo Make Me a World

An unflinching, honest novel in verse about a teenager's journey into the slam poetry scene and the dangerous new relationship that could threaten all her dreams. From the award-winning poet and author of HOME IS NOT A COUNTRY. Bad girl. No matter how hard Samira tries, she can’t shake her reputation. She’s never gotten the benefit of the doubt—not from her mother or the aunties who watch her like a hawk. Samira is determined to have a perfect summer filled with fun parties, exploring DC, and growing as a poet—until a scandalous rumor has her grounded and unable to leave her house. When Samira turns to a poetry forum for solace, she catches the eye of an older, charismatic poet named Horus. For the first time, Samira feels wanted. But soon she’s keeping a bigger secret than ever before—one that that could prove her reputation and jeopardize her place in her community. In this gripping coming-of-age novel from the critically acclaimed author Safia Elhillo, a young woman searches to find the balance between honoring her family, her artistry, and her authentic self.

Daniel, Deconstructed by James Ramos Inkyard Press

A nerdy high schooler learns to embrace his main-character energy in this witty and heart-healing ode to movie tropes, meet-cutes, and LGBTQ+ love. Photographer and film buff Daniel Sanchez learned a long time ago that the only way to get by in an allistic world is to mask his autism and follow the script. Which means he knows that boisterous, buff, and beautiful soccer superstars like his best friend, Mona Sinclair, shouldn’t be wasting time hanging out with introverts who prefer being behind the camera. So when Daniel meets a new classmate, Gabe Mendes, who is tall, mysterious, nonbinary, and—somehow—as cool as Mona, Daniel knows exactly how this is going to play out. Mona and Gabe will meet cute, win their nominations for Homecoming Court, and ride off into the sunset together. Daniel just needs to do a little behind-the-scenes directing. But matchmaking means stepping into the mystifying and illogical world of love, dating, and relationships, where nothing is as it seems and no one knows their lines. And when Daniel finds himself playing a starring role in this romance, he’ll question everything he thought he knew about himself and his place in the world.

The Girl, the Ring, & the Baseball Bat by Camille Gomera-Tavarez Levine Querido

Rosie: Capricorn. Does great in class. Wants nothing more than to get into the prestigious Innovation Technical Institute and kiss this awful school goodbye. Her talisman: a magical jacket from her mother’s past that gets people to do whatever she says. Caro: Leo. Rosie’s older sister. Always been closer to their estranged father – and always butted heads more with their strict mother. A trip to Dominican Republic for her father’s wedding leads her deep into family history that clears up any illusions about her parents she’s ever had. Her talisman: a baseball bat that fixes whatever it breaks. Zeke: Certified Triple Pisces. Up in cold-ass Jersey City living with his aunt after his grandmother dies and his father moves to London to take care of his mother. He crushes on EVERYone – he knows he’ll find happiness in love, and maybe a way out of this depression. His talisman: a manifestation stone that will make anyone fall in love with him. Rosie, Caro, and Zeke – and their talismans – find themselves intertwined in a magical, hilarious, and whip-smart Outsiders for the modern day, written by Camille Gomera-Tavarez, a 2022 Publishers Weekly Flying Start.

How the Boogeyman Became a Poet by Tony Keith Katherine Tegen Books

Poet, writer, and hip-hop educator Tony Keith Jr. makes his debut with a powerful YA memoir in verse, tracing his journey from being a closeted gay Black teen battling poverty, racism, and homophobia to becoming an openly gay first-generation college student who finds freedom in poetry. Perfect for fans of Elizabeth Acevedo, George M. Johnson, and Jacqueline Woodson. Tony dreams about life after high school, where his poetic voice can find freedom on the stage and page. But the Boogeyman has been following Tony since he was six years old. First, the Boogeyman was after his Blackness, but Tony has learned It knows more than Tony wants to be the first in his family to attend college, but there’s no path to follow. He also has feelings for boys, desires that don’t align with the script he thinks is set for him and his girlfriend, Blu. Despite a supportive network of family and friends, Tony doesn’t breathe a word to anyone about his feelings. As he grapples with his sexuality and moves from high school to college, he struggles with loneliness while finding solace in gay chat rooms and writing poetry. But how do you find your poetic voice when you are hiding the most important parts of yourself? And how do you escape the Boogeyman when it's lurking inside you?

I Hope This Doesn't Find You by Ann Liang Scholastic Press

Sadie Wen is perfect on paper: school captain, valedictorian, and a "pleasure to have in class." It’s not easy, but she has a trick to keep her model-student smile plastered on her face at all times: she channels all her frustrations into her email drafts. She'd never send them of course -- she'd rather die than hurt anyone's feelings -- but it's a relief to let loose on her power-hungry English teacher or a freeloading classmate taking credit for Sadie's work. All her most vehemently worded emails are directed at her infuriating cocaptain, Julius Gong, whose arrogance and competitive streak have irked Sadie since they were kids. "You're attention starved and self-obsessed and unbearably vain . . . I really hope your comb breaks and you run out of whatever expensive hair products you've been using to make your hair appear deceptively soft..." Sadie doesn't have to hold back in her emails, because nobody will ever read them... that is, until they're accidentally sent out. Overnight, Sadie’s carefully crafted, conflict-free life is turned upside down. It's her worst nightmare -- now everyone at school knows what she really thinks of them, and they're not afraid to tell her what they really think of her either. But amidst the chaos, there's one person growing to appreciate the "real" Sadie -- Julius, the only boy she's sworn to hate...

Infinity Alchemist (Infinity Alchemist #1) by Kacen Callendar Tor Teen

For Ash Woods, practicing alchemy is a crime. Only an elite few are legally permitted to study the science of magic―so when Ash is rejected by the Lancaster Mage’s College, he takes a job as the school’s groundskeeper instead, forced to learn alchemy in secret. When he’s discovered by the condescending and brilliant apprentice Ramsay Thorne, Ash is sure he's about to be arrested―but instead of calling the reds, Ramsay surprises Ash by making him an offer: Ramsay will keep Ash's secret if he helps her find the legendary Book of Source, a sacred text that gives its reader extraordinary power. As Ash and Ramsay work together and their feelings for each other grow, Ash discovers their mission is more dangerous than he imagined, pitting them against influential and powerful alchemists―Ash’s estranged father included. Ash’s journey takes him through the cities and wilds across New Anglia, forcing him to discover his own definition of true power and how far he and other alchemists will go to seize it.

No Time Like Now by Naz Kutub Bloomsbury

It's been one year since Hazeem's father passed away unexpectedly, and one year since Hazeem got his special ability: He can grant any living thing extra time. Since then, he's been randomly granting people more years to live: his old friend Holly, his study buddy Yamany, his crush Jack. . . . The only problem is, none of them wanted to spend any of that time with Hazeem. Now, Hazeem spends most of his days with his grandmother. When she experiences a heart attack, Hazeem is quick to use his power to save her--until Time themself appears and tells Hazeem he has accrued a time debt, having given away more life than he has left to live and putting the entire timeline in serious danger of collapse. In order to save the timeline and himself, Hazeem must take back some of the life he has granted other people. Suddenly, Hazeem is on a journey through and against time, but as he confronts the events of the past, he must confront the mistakes he made along the way. Hazeem will come to realize that when it comes to time, quality is more important to quantity--but is it too late to reclaim the life he's given away so he can really start living? No Time Like Now is a timely twist on A Christmas Carol that takes readers on a thought-provoking adventure, asking what matters most in life.

Out of Body by Nia Davenport Balzer + Bray

A high-stakes, propulsive YA thriller with a body-swap twist thoughtfully exploring themes of friendship and identity, perfect for fans of Tiffany D. Jackson. Seventeen-year-old Megan Allen has been jumping from friend group to friend group in her high school, trying on identities like outfits. Nothing ever seems to fit—until she meets LC, the adventurous, charismatic girl who appears at her favorite coffee shop one day like magic. Finally, Megan feels like she’s becoming the person she’s meant to be: someone like LC. On the night of their friendiversary, what was supposed to be a bonding experience ends in a waking nightmare. Suddenly, Megan is no longer herself. Too late, she realizes that LC has secrets—dangerous ones. Betrayed by her best friend, thrust into another girl’s life, and targeted by LC’s enemies, she must claim what makes Megan Megan to get her life back . . . or die trying.

Pangu's Shadow by Karen Bao Carolrhoda Lab

There are no second chances in the Pangu Star System. Ver and Aryl, apprentices at the most prestigious biology lab among the system’s moons, know this better than anyone. They’ve left behind difficult pasts and pinned their hopes for the future on Cal, their brilliant but difficult boss. But one night while working late in the lab, they find Cal sprawled on the floor, dead. Murdered. And they immediately become the prime suspects. Their motives seem obvious. Ver, who left her home moon to study the life-threatening disease wracking her body, had a hopeless attachment to Cal that could’ve become twisted by jealousy. Aryl, on the other hand, clashed with workaholic Cal because she valued more in her life besides research. To clear their names, Ver and Aryl put aside their mutual suspicion and team up to investigate Cal’s death. As they search for the real murderer, they uncover secrets that have shaped all of Pangu’s moons… and must decide what kind of future they really want.

Relit: 16 Latinx Remixes of Classic Stories edited by Sandra Proudman Inkyard Press

These sixteen stories by award-winning and bestselling YA authors center a Latinx point of view in an empowering anthology that reimagines classics through fantasy, science fiction, and with a dash of magic, for fans of A PHOENIX FIRST MUST BURN and RECLAIM THE STARS In classic stories remixed, Latinx characters take center stage Pride and Prejudice is launched into outer space, Frankenstein is plunged into the depths of the ocean, and The Great Gatsby floats to an island off the coast of Costa Rica. A shape-shifter gives up her life to save the boy she loves from an evil bruja. La Ciguapa covets a little mermaid’s heart of gold. Two star-crossed teens fall in love while the planet burns around them. Whether characters fall in love, battle foes, or grow through grief, each story will empower readers to see themselves as the heroes of the stories that make our world.

You're Breaking my Heart by Olugbemisola Rhuday-Perkovich Levine Querido

Harriet Adu knows that her brother's death is her fault. I mean, it's not actually her fault, but it still kinda is, isn't it? She would do anything to live in a world where she could take back what she said that morning. Then a strange girl shows up at Harriet's high school – a girl who loves the same weird books Harriet does, who doesn't vibe with anyone at school the same way Harriet does – and that different world suddenly seems possible. The girl speaks of a place underneath the subways of New York, where people like them can go and find a home. A place away from the world of high school, grief, cool people, and depression. A place where one may be able to bend the lines of reality and get a second chance at being a better person. Will Harriet open the door? With You're Breaking My Heart , award-winning author Olugbemisola Rhuday-Perkovich offers a remarkable speculative novel that will hit home for anyone who yearns for that one chance to do things over.

[pearl484-blog]

Cool Miraculous Ladybug Writing Ideas

On Ao3, I found a fanfic titled ideas that I want to write, but probably won’t, and underneath it, there were just the words: Just Write. I was unamused, and so I am creating a far superior list with actual ideas.  Adrien/Chat Noir centric: 1) Chat Noir is slowly becoming a god of death. Seeing ghosts, foretelling people’s fates, causing feelings of fear and despair around him, etc.  2) Chat Noir time travels with Ladybug to Chat Blanc. He tries to get Chat Blanc to calm down and not spill the beans that he knows who Marinette is.

3) Chat Noir tries to send a message with flowers. (Love, hate, apology, I’m deeply disappointed in you, trying to make someone paranoid)

4) Chat Noir and Catwalker have a debate over who’s the better Black Cat

5) Adrien introduces Marinette to his mom

6) Due to a curse, Adrien is convinced that Ladybug is dead. His friends try to convince him otherwise.

7) Chat Noir tells Ladybug that his akuma’s name isn’t Chat Blanc, he’s going to riot. He fantasizes what his akuma will look like, much to Ladybug’s discomfort

8) Fox!Adrien is an adorable attention hog. Ladybug must resist the cute to get back the Fox from the prankster

9) Tired of the will they or won’t they, the kwamis shamelessly decide to try to convince Chat Noir/Adrien to get with Ladybug/Marinette, much to his mortification. 

10) During Lady Wifi, Chat accidentally destroyed all wifi around the world and earned the title of the most destructive cyber-terrorist in history.

Marinette/Ladybug 1)  Nino, Nathaniel and Adrien fall in love with Marinette because of little acts of kindness 2) Marinette is convinced that all her creations are cursed 3) On Mylene’s advice, Ladybug sits Chat down and promises him a few things.       a)  She won’t hurt him      b)  She won’t punish him for being mad      c)  She won’t test him      d) She won’t abandon him      e) She won’t ignore him      f) She’ll never stop loving him

4) Miraculous Ladybug if Ladybug was a child being a hero with her dad, Chat Noir 5) Ladybug realizes that she has OCD (either the obsessive thoughts about doing something terrible or the compulsions/anxiety) 6) Ladybug realizes that her friends and allies naturally follow her will when she’s upset 7) Marinette gives Adrien a love potion, and soon realizes her mistake 8) Ladybug slowly starts having trouble understanding what other people are saying and must find a way to listen without words.  9) Ladybug realizes that everyone is slowly forgetting Chat Noir, but Chat doesn’t seem to care. She decides to investigate herself. 10) Ladybug is completely blind at night. Chat and her team tries to help her. 11) Marinette sets out a bit of each week to spend a little bit of time with each kwami. 12) Ladybug’s civilian identity is a homeless thief. 13) Marinette was once a human, but now she cursed. She becomes a mermaid whenever she gets wet, and she gets lunacy at night that waxes and wanes with the moon. Only being Ladybug gives her humanity back, and she is willing to do whatever it takes to get it back permenantly. 14) Marinette decides to remove the curse that makes Chat unafraid of death and must help him confront his fears and traumas about akuma attacks.  

Chloe: 1) Pre-Origins kids. After Sabrina’s mother dies, Marinette makes an insensitive remark that makes her cry. Chloe vows revenge.

Alya: 1) Alya gains the ability to see people’s innermost secrets and decides to help her classmates 2) Alya finds an entry on her blog about a list of akuma, including akuma in the future (up to Ephemeral) when she sees Ephemeral’s summary listing his cause of akumatization calling him “an abused boy following the orders of his father”, Alya decides to investigate.

Kwamis: 1) Trixx tries to convince Plagg to change his advice to Adrien about Ladybug being a guardian whose decisions he just has to accept and get him to talk to Ladybug. Plagg disagrees.  2) Trixx gives Adrien makeovers in between classes 3) Adrien tries to convince Tikki to give Mister Bug compound eyes. Tikki isn’t having it. 4) Someone argues with Trix about their “rabbit” ears and he claims it’s a birth defect and he’s self-concious about it. 5) Plagg has secretly been teaching Adrien lessons in independence all along 6) Tikki is trying to keep Marinette from dying, but boy does she make it hard sometimes. 

Weird but Anyone 1) [x] has been having blackouts, and is annoyed to find that whenever they’re investigating what they’ve been doing, it’s always mundane and what they would’ve done anyways 2) [x] is “hallucinating” but its actually a side effect of their Miraculous 3) [x] wakes up and realizes that all their tastes have changed. Their favorite color is now meh. They like different foods than they used to, etc. It’s just a bunch of little things -nothing anyone would notice- but it annoys them greatly. They decide to investigate.  4) [x] wakes up and their reflection doesn’t look right, but they don’t know why.

[obutsuwrites]

devotion (douma x f!reader)

summary: His pet watched as the metal was heated. Douma held the poker like it was precious; watching in delight. Black steel turning dangerously red was quite the show. Certainly, his excitement was sweetened by… her. Even now, Douma was sure she regarded him with disinterest. She would learn this was to her benefit.

"Are you excited, little one?" Douma mused.

She simply nodded, words unable to form. Her savior finally saw her bare. Heat bloomed across her face. She wanted his hands to roam her body and learn every curve. Waiting for his touch left an ache in her chest. Her breathing came out in spurts. The room felt too hot -- too humid. 

warnings: blood and injury, mild gore, vaginal fingering, cults, public humiliation, branding, yandere elements, dismemberment, loss of fingers, smut, etc. etc.

word count: 3.3k

shoutout to @calslaundry for the beta read

a/n: hello friends, apologies for the lack of content! i haven't written in a while + this my first kny fic 😭

twitter | masterlist

She came to him in a miserable state -- her delicate body broken. Blood, like ribbons, flowed from her stomach. The wound was deep and hideous. Yet, the woman before him wore a serene expression, as if unaware of her current state. The sight brought amusement to Douma. His thin lips pulled into the phantom of a grin. Rainbow eyes dilated and focused on her pitiful form. 

Behind her bounded a man; his skin filthy and caked in dried crimson. He looked disheveled, as if the listless woman struggled. Sweat kept his hair slick across his forehead. In his hand, his shaky little human hand, was a butcher knife.  

"Stay out of this! She's…" The man trails off, waiting for the words to materialize, "My wife." The word sounds slimy, uncomfortable, coming from him. To punctuate his love, a calloused hand gripped the woman. 

No sound came from her. Perhaps, she was his wife. Douma continued to observe the dramatic affair; fingers laced together. His expression was nothing less than curious. A carnal morbidity he wanted to see through. 

Suddenly, the woman collapsed. Her skin lacked the rosy pigment so beloved by mortals. The man stumbled and instinctively cradled her wound. Disgust formed onto his features -- the man seemingly unaware of her state. 

Douma felt blood drumming in his ears. This tiny, injured woman came to him near death, but didn't utter a single grievance. She had remained stoic despite her hideous wound. "Leave her." 

Without a second thought, the man abandoned his would-be wife. His rapid footfalls echoed down the hall as Douma examined his pet. He noted how elegant her kimono was -- its silk now reddened and ruined. Douma believed the blood complimented her, and brought out her softness. Softness Douma wanted to destroy. 

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

Her eyes adjusted to the darkness slowly. The room was unlike her little hovel. Innate gold and rubies were encrusted within every aspect; nothing less of excess. A room fit for a god. Perhaps this was her afterlife. Delicate fingers prodded her stomach -- the flesh swollen and blemished. Her fingertips brushed against the barb of wire. Lifting the simple Yukata, the woman noticed how intricate the stitching was. Black wire woven into itself to mimic the intricate shape of a flower. 

"You're awake, my dear friend!" The voice was cheerful and deep. The sound not unlike the rumble in a summer storm. 

Silence marked their conversation. 

Floorboards creaked; a sign her mysterious caretaker was advancing. "Is my dear friend deaf?" This time, the man's voice held annoyance. A blatant disregard for his kind words left a rotten taste in the demon's mouth. 

"I apologize for the trouble I caused you," she confessed, head level with the floor. The newly stitched woman was bowing before him. Had she hoped to mimic his congregation? 

Unlike his devotees, her body didn't shake. No, her insignificant form stayed rigid. The slender curve of her back was straight, eyes still regarding the floor. Truthfully, Douma found himself savoring the view of this mortal. She seemed so obedient -- so unafraid of him. 

The damned sentence stumbled last Douma's lips, "Stay with us; with me." Suddenly, the woman sensed a large hand atop her head, "You need to heal, my friend." 

Tears began to foam at her eyes -- this man's kindness was unfamiliar. This rainbow eyed stranger not only stitched up her broken body, but offered sanctuary. 

"Thank you." Douma noted the monotonousness of her voice. Here this pitiful woman was, her briny tears reeking, and yet she remained stoic. The scent was pleasant; as if crushed roses and salt had been mixed. Douma had noticed her blood carried a similar scent. 

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

The days that followed were… familiar. Her days fell into structure. First, worship in the morning. Then, chores and her first meal followed by more chores. Finally, as dusk settled, her makeshift family gathered within the main hall for a special dinner. However, the dinner wasn't any fundamentally different. The menu still consisted of rich meats and exotic fruits, but their meal was special because of him. 

At the end of their long, gold flecked table sat the rainbow eyed Douma. His face carried his typical jubilant expression. A soft smile graced his face -- leaving his eyes bright and lively. He watched his flock with interest, his eyes all too often falling upon his wounded pet. 'Pet' seemed to fit this woman far more than any word; she was compliant. The woman finished every task created for her. Her devotion to him -- only him -- brought a budding flush to his cheeks. 

It was true the women of his cult would die for him. Their single-minded loyalty was stereotypical, expected. They chose to bleed for him, but once faced with their own mortality, his devotees lost steam. And yet this harpy had bled at his feet -- asked for his forgiveness. 

Douma watched as the woman carefully gripped her chopsticks. Her hands were slender, and as soft as blooming flowers. In another world, Douma would have described her as delicate, but all the demon could feel was disdain. There was something so innocent about her fingers. Douma's eyes continued to flick between her face and hands. Such soft things devoid of callouses -- devoid of humanity. 

His mind didn't typically race like this. Images of this woman seemed to plague him during dinner. She was a sickness that he couldn't shake. Her body had infiltrated him -- illustrating fantasies of him breaking her fingers and laughing as he ate them. Would she finally scream, finally allow herself emotion? Or would she succumb to him? 

Douma's thin lips curled into a grin. 

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

"I don't want to ruin the elaborate textiles, sir." It was a habit to call him sir as her eyes bore into the floor. The woman acted like she was… unworthy to even glance at the demon. She seemed to make herself scarce when Douma was around. But now, she was forced ⁸to meet his face. Forced to tailor his clothing, despite the woman having no seamstress experience.

Douma didn't mind if his clothes were ruined. He merely wanted to observe his pet create with her hands. 

A large hand rested atop her head, "Do not worry, my dear friend! I picked you for this. Do you not trust my judgement?" His question was more of a test than anything. He wanted to see more of her sickened devotion to him. 

"I trust you," the woman replied, her hands buried in rich fabric. His clothes made her hands itch. Yet, she hid any discomfort. This was a task bestowed upon her -- it was the least she could do. This man had saved her life. 

In the corner of his view, Douma saw it, the phantom of a smile. His emotionless pet still held humanity. However, the happiness stopped at her lips. Nothing seemed to reach her eyes. 

"That expression suits you," his breath tickled her ear, "little one." The sensation of him -- his warmth was enough to quicken her pulse. A blush rose to her cheeks. 

Before she could thank him, Douma vanished. She wanted to glance into his chromatic eyes. They held a light she hadn't noticed before. Something so spectacular and light. 

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

Darkness naturally crept into Douma's eyes. The demon couldn't pinpoint a moment of emotion. It was as if he was born void of humanity. Perhaps that was his reason for being so disgustingly soft upon this woman. 

She was in a tangled mess before him; eyes perpetually to the floor. The more he saw her like this -- the more Douma longed for her gaze. He was the only one worthy of her. 

"This little runt broke the vase, my lord." Beside his little pet stood a woman; one of his most devoted. Yet, her very voice annoyed him. 

Douma shifted in his throne, "What of it?" His face was contorted into happiness, but there was a callousness to him. A viper waiting in the grass. 

The woman's expression hardened.

"Shouldn't she be punished, my lord?" Her question wasn't more than a whisper. This was common for his most loyal of followers; cowardly mortals that were afraid of him. 

Douma leaned forward, his rainbow eyes lacking any compassion, "Are you telling me what to do?" 

"N-no! I'd never, my lord! Please -- please forgive me, Lord Douma!" Her pleas flowed like a river; excuse upon excuse. Douma used to take pleasure in a maiden's distress. Now, he simply felt bored -- empty. 

Certainly punishing his pet and maiming her would bring relief. Mortals were for his enjoyment, after all. 

"Stand up," Douma commanded. 

His voice sounded of the gods; nectar too sweet for human ears. His wounded pet felt heat rise to her cheeks. Gently, she assumed a knelt position, hands folded in her lap. They looked so delicate, so perfect for him. Saliva pooled in his mouth. His fantasy of her seemed unending. 

"Sit," the demon motioned to his feet. "You are to stay until I find a suitable punishment, my dear friend." Without hesitation, his pet assumed her position. Her hands were now clear in Douma's view, tiny things clasped together. 

As if satisfied, his devotee blended back into the crowd. 

Even his presence was warmth; she could feel his radiance. Lord Douma was the opposite of her husband -- his chromatic eyes held nothing but comfort. He had opened his home to her, and allowed her to join his congregation. He was the sun; bright and nourishing. 

His pet felt as if her heart would burst. Being this close to him -- to Lord Douma was almost overwhelming. He practically dwarfed her; his frame tall and muscular. Lord Douma's presence was suffocating above her. Lewd flashes of her savior played on loop. Silver hair slicked back, his bare chest on display, muscles flexing. 

Quickly, she looked away from the demon with a silent curse on her lips. 

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

Several days pass. Douma's pet had yet to leave his side. Her punishment was decided the second day she sat at his feet, but Douma found her presence… human. Slowly, she brought forth an emotion; serenity. Her very breathing seemed to lull him. In another life, she would have made a man very happy. 

The demon's eyes shifted to his maiden. Her face was stoic as ever. She looked… Miserable? The thought made Douma's blood burn; sitting between his feet was a privilege. No other woman of the cult had been so close to him before. 

Douma's thick brows knitted together in annoyance, "We should prepare for your punishment, shouldn't we?" Plastered on his face was the smile she yearned for. 

"Yes, my lord." 

Douma clapped his hands. Suddenly, his harem of women began to spill into the room. They looked to him like god; eyes wide and wanting. He cherished his cult for their devotion, something that would benefit him today. 

He tilted his head and pointed, "Strip her." Douma's instruction was materialized before him. Her body laid in the brood of his women. Bruises marked her body like bee stings; his most devoted had such vicious means. Her exquisite yukata was ruined. Shreds hung to her trembling form. 

She made him sick. 

"Hold her down, my dear friends~!" Douma's feigned happiness crinkled at his eyes. To any nonbeliever, he looked human, yet his followers knew better. They knew behind the facade was a monster; a man bent on misery. "Bring me the brand." 

His pet watched as the metal was heated. Douma held the poker like it was precious; watching in delight. Black steel turning dangerously red was quite the show. Certainly, his excitement was sweetened by… her. Even now, Douma was sure she regarded him with disinterest. She would learn this was to her benefit. 

"Are you excited, little one?" Douma mused. 

She simply nodded, words unable to form. Her savior finally saw her bare. Heat bloomed across her face. She wanted his hands to roam her body and learn every curve. Waiting for his touch left an ache in her chest. Her breathing came out in spurts. The room felt too hot -- too humid. 

The demon sauntered over to his pet, the brand now smoking. "Stay still," he murmured. It was her shred of justice before Douma plunged the brand between her breasts. First there was silence. Then came a cry unlike any before. Loud. Anguished. Heart wrenching. It was the sound of his pet bearing her soul. Something so private, meant only for him. 

He pressed the metal further into her flesh. Burnt skin reached his nostrils; her scent wasn't unlike roasted boar. Rich, gamey. His mind painted her nude and covered in sake. Underneath his regalia, Douma felt blood rush to his cock. Douma looked at her, waiting for another cry. Yet, she regained composure. Her skin was balmy and she trembled. 

Finally, her eyes met his. Douma sees the hint of relief -- as if she wanted this. "L-lord Douma," she slurred. His gaze shifted to her lips; anticipating her speech. Nothing left her except a heave. A soft little noise before she passed out, limp and vulnerable. Somehow, Douma felt sorry for her. 

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

The woman woke with a jolt; air burning her lungs. Gasping, she took inventory of the dimly lit room. The space was more of the caricature of a room. It was a bedroom, but looked almost unlived in. Everything was too perfect. The realization came as she touched her chest. This was Lord Douma's private quarters. A place reserved for his most devoted. 

...and here she was, laying in his bed. 

Her chest was tender. The skin was charred and bandaged. She wondered if Lord Douma himself had treated her. The fantasy brought a flush to her cheeks. She fingered the wound; gentle to trace its shape. Between her breasts was a delicate lotus; her body marked forever. 

"I can hear you, my dearest friend," his voice sounded like rainfall after a drought. "Come. Bring me more sake." 

Beside the futon was a gourd. The object was heavy; enough for two hands if not more. Truthfully, his pet struggled to lift it. The liquid inside sloshed around like the sea. It carried a sweet smell. Fruity. Radiant. The scent reminded the woman of Lord Douma. 

Soft humming filtered into the room, the source not far. Practically dragging the sake, his pet ventured towards the sound. Towards him. 

With the push of a door came humidity and steam. The atmosphere was sticky and too warm. Lord Douma had created a swamp instead of a bath. 

His booming tone shook the room, "Come closer, little one." The phrase sent goosebumps up her spine. 

She continued to drag the gourd across slick tile. His pet didn't want to make a fool of herself. However, with each step came unequal footing. She wobbled, trying to keep her grace and sake intact. One particularly heavy footfall was miscalculated. She fell onto the porous ground with a sharp bang; the gourd in pieces at her feet. 

"Clumsy, aren't we, little one?" His tone is lousy with arousal. The sentence vibrated from his chest. 

"I'm sor--"

Douma only uttered a simple phrase, "Join me, my pet." 

Her legs moved without authority. Douma had complete agency over her; bewitching his prey. It was the kindness she deserved, after all. She was his most devoted -- his most prized slab of meat. Partially, Douma believed she was plagued with bad luck. First the damned woman is stabbed, then she falls desperately into his lap. She was a fawn -- clumsy and aching for attention. 

Muscles were the first thing she noticed, followed shortly by ashen hair. Somehow, his chromatic eyes still shined within the haze. He had to be a deity -- someone special. 

Quickly, she averted her eyes. This sight wasn't meant for a mortal like her. Crimson hung to her cheeks like warpaint, the woman more blush than skin. His pet removed her yukata without ceremony. The elaborate fabric crumpled at her feet. Douma felt air pitch in his chest and blood rush to his cock. 

"Sit in my lap." 

His lover looked at him; her eyes curious and wanting and wide, pupils dilated. She shuffled into the bath, like a babe taking its first steps. Gingerly, she sat beside him. A hiss escaped her lips as the hot water meets her burn. Mortals -- as Douma knew -- were devoted to a fault. 

A cold arm encompassed her waist. Douma pulled the mortal closer, her smell mixing with the bath. Saliva dotted at the corners of his mouth. His polite aurora seemed to drop -- the predator now before her. "It's okay, little one," his breath tickled her neck, "you can relax. You're safe." 

Safe. He was safe. Her body untensed in his grip. The woman leaned into him, her bare back pressed into his chest. Her rapid heartbeat echoed into Douma; his body rang with her life force. It hurt to hold her like this. His instincts demanded he tear her apart, her blood diluting the water. Yet, he resisted. Instead, he took inventory of her hands. They were tender -- fragile. His broad hands engulfed hers as he rubbed circles into her palms. 

Douma -- with grace -- lifted her fore and middle finger into his mouth. His fawn exhaled a gasp. The sudden movement caused her to wobble atop his knee. A hand rubbed her stomach, as if to provide comfort. Slobber leaked down her hand. Lord Douma's saliva. She wanted to bring the spit covered hand to her chest -- to feel a part of him. Douma sucked at her fingers. His tongue rolled over her knuckles and savored her. 

"Lord Douma --"

Her words hung in muggy air. Only one sound penetrated through the room; a sob. The woman's blood mixed with unholy drool. In Douma's mouth were two delicate fingers -- her fingers. The sudden pang subsided, yet her heart continued to race. She was stuck; fear had collapsed in her veins. Her weak, mortal body shook. The sensation was uncontrollable. 

"Stay still, my pet," Douma mused, his voice obstructed by gore. He refused to relent; his tone still cheery. Her body demanded she move, but her mind screamed for him. Torn between heart and brain, she quaked in his lap. Her hand fell limp into the bath water. Red blossomed beside her. 

Douma's hands trailed down her body, as if to memorize her shape. His cockhead ached for stimulation -- for her. Without the air of a lord, Douma shifted his pet, her cunt now exposed to the heat. Carefully, he removed her disembodied fingers from his mouth. "Let me take care of you." His words were little more than a command -- no -- a threat. 

Harshly, the demon shoved a finger into her cunt; the very finger he bit off. Disgust and lust bubbled together in her stomach. Naive eyes looked down as Douma pumped into her. A bloodied chin rested on his pet's shoulder. His humming vibrated into her bones. Thunderous. Awful. 

Heat bloomed between her thighs. Lewd sounds of her core bounced off the walls. She bit her lip, stubborn and refusing to give into the demon. 

Rainbow eyes drifted to her face, "Are you not satisfied, little one?" His tone faltered before a second finger jams into her soaking cunt. The woman's mouth betrayed her. Out came a wanton moan. Loud and squealing. Douma's face contorted into a grin, his breath beating upon her. "What's that? You want me to go faster~?" His pace burst into an almost hellish speed. The fingers hit her walls, scissoring her entrance. Douma acted as if he knew her very body. Roughly, he tweaked her nipple. Another cry pierced the air; his reward for her devotion. 

"Come for me," Douma commanded, heavy humming now vibrating her jaw. "Show me your devotion." His voice wasn't more than a whisper, yet she felt the warmth between her thighs explode. The bundle in her stomach dissipated into bliss; eyes closed and breathing even. 

Douma rubbed her cheek. This was perhaps his only action of humanity -- of charity. As his most devoted, she was worthy.  

[caedescorvirpg]

SPARROW. LILIANA RASMUS   —   28,  NB.

Instant Connection: make two people who have never met each other, feel a certain emotion about the other (+) works on anyone (-) they must never have met before (-) your magic ends after five minutes, but that’s usually enough time for the feelings to become real (-) does not work a second time on a person

HISTORY

cw: death, suicidal ideation

YOU LEARN TO LOVE LIKE THIS: as a bruise, as a scar that runs along your the curve of your heart. Oh Love, the great monstrous beast, how it tears at the seams of the left and right atrium to reveal the vague lifeline of a family. You tug at the thread separating them and the rest soon follows after. When your mother leaves, she does not forget you. You receive red-stamped postcards carried on the waves of Lethe that forwards an artificial display of remorse. She misses you terribly and wishes dearly to at by your side holding you at arms length as all mothers should. However, she is not yet fully recovered and requires your patience in the meantime. You know what it means, what it has always meant, that churning sliver of doubt. You, born and bred from duty, have never been enough to stay for (will never be enough to live for). And your father, sat in a whittled down chair, will wait for the day she returns and recalls nothing else. You watch as he falls and recoil at the outcome. Perhaps if you had been a better child his fate might have been escapable, but you sat and you watched, and as a result succumbed to his loneliness. It’s only in half-mourning that you adorn his legacy with pride. It may be a noose, it may be a lifeline — but it is the only thing that can set you free.  

There’s a story about the sun and its children and the way the world was remade. Sick and full of envy, it watched as the moon — that other half of being — was adored by all those who worshiped it. Its followers were unafraid of its wrath and so danced in milky waters to the rippling of its face. The story ends with the sun destroying the moon and thus killing itself. It is a terrible thing to realize that you too will be spared no choice. To you, being real starts with a gaze and ends with the turn of a head. It is a performance, and you are only as real as others make you out to be. So you cleverly craft a mask of higher judgment; postulate yourself in such a way that others seek your guidance. They do not question why love and all its forms are found in the palm of your hand or why it seems to follow you. To do so would be to question the validity of their own need, to own the bitter secrets they try and swallow. People do not need to know that love is the cruelest thing a person can ask for. In the end, the sun will never rises again. You will not let it.

CONNECTIONS

HARRIER﹒ I NEED YOU TO HATE ME MORE

cw: death

Theirs is a love you cannot conquer, cannot move like a dial on a clock. His uncle comes to you with a want in his gaze and a briefcase full of money you cannot refuse. He asks of you to find his nephew a match: a pretty little thing with pretty glittering eyes and pretty vain ambitions. The woman would need to be careless and require all of his attention so that he might drown and never resurface. This, and nothing less. You find his match in a week, connect their hearts in an instant, and you do not see HARRIER again until you are invited to attend their wedding and then her funeral. It’s a solemn affair and across the chasm where her body is laid in a casket, you see him for seemingly the first time in your life. HARRIER is a man full of sorrow, that you can understand, but what seems difficult to decipher is why his rage is pointed at you like an arrow. Vitriolic words of accusation follow in its flight and you catch every bolt with your own heart. It’s a thrilling thing to be at the receiving end of someone else’s hate, you wonder how far he would go to demonstrate it.

BLACK HERON ﹒STILL, THERE IS THIS HORROR AT BEING LEFT BEHIND

cw: suicide

Your fear of being known paralyzes your mind into action. It's embarrassment ten times the river you drown in, and far more humiliating than being saved ever could be. In that moment of resuscitation they saw you — really saw you and from then on you knew you could never bear to part with it. Like a broken bird you flock to their side in comfort, hiding beneath their wings like a distant star in the night sky. They don’t care for you but it’s easy to pretend that they could. How can it not be when they allow you to rest your head on theirs, hide your eyes from glaring light, and insist you mourn over all the life you’ve missed so far? How can you not crave their affection when they are the only one who gives it so freely? You know this promise will be broken one day, and soon they too will leave, but for the moment it’s nice to pretend that you’re wanted — that you were loved for even a second.

ALBATROSS﹒   THERE'S A THEORY THAT SAYS YOU DON'T EXIST UNLESS SOMEONE CALLS & YOU RESPOND

In all things certain there is an air of mystery to be desired. You're familiar with each other in the way opposites always are. Her strength against your charm, immovable forces that do not change despite the time in-between. Your history dates long before you meet again in Caedes Corvi; long before your father was but a whisper of a man, and your mother a creature of the air. ALBATROSS has known you since your conception and has remained a thought by your side since then. There was no stronger connection than the distance between your home, but even that is not enough for her to stay. She leaves and does not come back, but you wait for her until you too are chosen for a task. Things are different now, only childhood memories tie you together, and a tall silent wall thwarts your attempts from reaching over; it is your own pride, and you hope that one day it may be torn down at the hands of her love. Until then you’re content to be with her even as a thought.

This skeleton is TAKEN by KIERSTEN and is portrayed by PRECIOUS LEE. Their highest stat is CHARISMA and their specialty is COUNTERFEITING.

[billyrussosbitch]

Her.

Alright, I needed Darkling angst. So I whipped this up over the past few hours. I apologize if any of it has errors? It wasn't beta'd.

Warnings: Major character death, suicide, self-inflicted wounds, non-graphic descriptions of blood, severe depression, hallucinations.

Word Count: 1,470

Characters/Pairings: Aleksander Morozova | The Darkling / Alina Starkov, mentions of Malyen Oretsev, mentions of Baghra

Summary: A rewrite of the ending of Ruin and Rising, in which Alina is destroyed along with the Fold, and leaves Aleksander to mourn.

That searing burst of light. The one that brought her to him. So painfully similar to the one that took her from him. The parallel was disgusting, it made his stomach churn with the mere thought of it. Perched on the edge of his bed, head in his hands, with his palms pressing against his eyelids, he could see it perfectly.

The absolute anguish on her face when she drove the blade into her best friend, and supposed lover. He knew that otkazat’sya boy was nothing compared to him. Him, the most powerful man in all of the world. Him, the most powerful Grisha ever known to man.

Her, his only equal. Her, the one who was meant to rule by his side. Light, to balance out darkness, to bring peace. Not only to Ravka, but to Aleksander’s troubled mind.

He’d waited centuries for her, and he had to watch as she tore herself apart at the seams, the light fighting to get to the surface, unafraid to destroy the only thing stopping it - her very being, her skin, her bones, keeping that light from escaping.

She’d obliterated herself, and the Fold with her. In one fell swoop, the Darkling lost everything that had mattered to him. He lost his only chance at redemption, his only chance at saving Ravka, and providing sanctuary for Grisha in all of Fjerda and Shu Han combined. With her, he could have accomplished anything, but the only memory he had of her was the blindingly white strands of hair, woven between fibres of Grisha steel, to form a fetter. She’d made him stronger, but he still had no harness over the light, even though she’d gained control over the shadows.

Each cry of “Alina,” that slipped past his lips brought a fresh wave of pain with it. After his initial scream that day on the Unsea, his throat was left raw for days. He was unable to hold it back, quartz eyes immediately flooding with tears, flashing darker with anger, before the terror returned.

Everything he wanted lay at his feet.

Limp, pale, gone.

Even lying dead against the gray sand, she was still the image of beauty. Her hair seemed to form a halo around her head, bringing contrast to the lifeless eyes that had once matched his own fervor.

He could hear the chants of “Sankta Alina!” for hours, playing on repeat through his head, as a constant reminder of what he lost.

He was a fool, to think he could love, and have love in return. After all, who could love a monster like him? She’d said it herself, he was turning her into something worse, and he knew that. He couldn’t touch that smooth skin without darkness blossoming over it, inky tendrils leaving his fingers and spreading over her like webbing, trapping her there. When he lifted her body from the sand, the black covered her, leaving her in a shroud of darkness, while he brushed past anyone who dared to try to stop him. The tears weren’t falling anymore, but the tracks that were scored through the dirt and blood smeared on his skin remained, causing filth to gather in the little ridges left along the scars on his cheek.

He’d denied it, for the first few weeks. Kept telling himself that he’d turn around and see her, as they’d visit each other through that tether, and she’d be unharmed, waiting for him to take her into his arms. A little part of him knew that was gone, knew that the connection was severed. It left him feeling hollow, just a husk of the man he was before.

His mother had warned him about this, about getting too close, and letting someone in. Now, she was gone too. The only Grisha aside from Alina who could actually understand him, was dashed across the side of a mountain. Shattered, and broken. Just like he was.

He’d sworn off any sort of romanticism for hundreds of years, but he couldn’t stop the flicker of hope he got when she was brought to his silk pavilion in Kribirsk. That hope had bloomed into something greater, the heat had spread each time he laid his hands against her, and pressed their lips together. Each time she uttered his name, something in him shifted, begging to be let out. He wanted to love her the way she deserved, but she wouldn’t stop at anything to protect the world from him and his creations.

Aleksander wanted to be by her side every moment of every day, he wanted to spend this dreadful eternity with her, just to find some sort of relief in the knowledge that he was not alone.

But now he was. And that concept was so suffocating this time around, that he could feel it sinking in, seeping into his bones and every molecule of his being, cementing him in his misery, slowly but surely.

The only way he’d be able to escape it would be to drown himself in his darkness, to take his own life with the gift his mother had given him, and helped him to hone. It almost didn’t seem fair, that to be the most powerful, also meant to be the most hurt, but something about the irony of it all brought a wry smile to the Darkling’s lips.

He could have anything he wanted, except Alina. She’d been wrenched from his grasp just moments after he’d gotten her. They’d spent nearly two years with knowledge of one another, but it seemed like the briefest flicker in time to him. The months since her death dragged on, and it took everything within him not to set the paintings of her ablaze, to massacre anyone who tried to murmur her name, and beat down those who wanted to pray to the fallen Saint. Aleksander wanted her to himself, selfishness be damned, he felt he’d earned this glimmer of happiness, of home that he found within her. He was not among the countless Grisha who admired the Little Palace, and spent their lives growing and dwelling there. He was the one to bring it up from nothing, and to invite others to find safety on the grounds. It was somewhere for the children to learn, to hone their powers, and to grow stronger.

He’d grown stronger through near-death experiences, and learned to use the Cut out of necessity, not while searching for praise from an instructor.

None of it seemed fair, and that’s how he found himself walking in circles, screaming into the shadows he’d let plague his room, begging for something to end him, because he didn’t know if he could do it himself.

“Come back to me, Aleks,” it was just a whisper, but the sound of her voice was enough to stop him in his frantic pacing, and send a chill rattling down his spine. He wasn’t quite sure if he’d imagined it, but the thought of turning around only to find nothing was worse than the fear currently shocking through him.

“I need you,” he didn’t recognize his own voice. What used to carry a wave of calmness over anyone, was now scratchy, broken up by gasps for air, and pained whimpers. He fell to his knees, and his hands wove into his hair, tugging to distract himself from the feeling of his lungs burning with each breath.

What pulled him from his thoughts, however, was a hand laying on his shoulder, as delicate as always, and guiding him to turn around.

She was there, that soft, radiant smile pulling the edges of her lips upwards, while she looked over the man on the floor.

“You and I… Just you and I.” She paused, and his heart stuttered, lips parting and closing again as he tried to find words. “Isn’t that what you want?”

All he could do was nod, and watch as she guided a knife of Grisha steel into his hand. He knew what he had to do, and with her there?

He was sure he could do anything.

She said his name, and that was all he needed. He didn’t even feel the pain from it, or notice as blood spilled from the wound, staining the velvet carpet beneath him. All he could see was her, hear her whispering gentle praises, and feel the trace of her fingertips against his jaw. The usual warmth didn’t accompany her touch, and he questioned if she really was there, but it was too late. She’d helped him with the one thing he had left to desire, and he couldn’t find it in him to complain. The last thing he felt was her lips brushing his forehead, before he became one with the darkness surrounding them, letting it engulf him, and bring silence to his suffering.

[night-rhea]

Night Rhea’s Profile

“Lets have tea one day. I will bring the tea, you will bring the view.”

Thanks @hogwartsmystory for letting us use this template!

Name: Night "Nur" Rhea

Gender: Genderfluid (They/Them)

Birth Date: 11 July 1973

Species:  Human

Blood Status: Pureblood

Sexuality: Bisexual

Alignment: Chaotic Good

Nationality: British/ Turkish

Myer Briggs Personality Type: ENFJ - The Giver

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THE MAGE

1st Wand: Red oak, dragon heartstring, flexible, 13″

2st Wand: Cypress, phoenix feather, unyielding flexibility, 14″

"Cypress wands are associated with nobility. The great medieval wandmaker, Geraint Ollivander, wrote that he was always honoured to match a cypress wand, for he knew he was meeting a witch or wizard who would die a heroic death. Fortunately, in these less blood-thirsty times, the possessors of cypress wands are rarely called upon to lay down their lives, though doubtless many of them would do so if required. Wands of cypress find their soul mates among the brave, the bold and the self-sacrificing: those who are unafraid to confront the shadows in their own and others’ natures.

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Animagus: Black Hawk

⦁ Night’s one of the favorite thing is being in sky. No matter the weather, day or night, you can see Night in the sky or daydreaming while looking at clouds/stars. They spend little too much time as a hawk. Night’s hawk form is a regular Black Hawk with blue eyes.

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Misc Magical Abilities: Legilimens, Occlumens

⦁ Being Legilimens in Rhea family is not something unexpected. Night's father Matthew realized his younger child is Legilimens when they were seven years old. But he never believed they can use it perfectly. Night didnt used Legilimency properly until their fifth year. İn two years, Night was able to use this ability without wand. Even though it was enough for them, Snape warned Night about not stopping training, and wanted them to learn Occlumency too. Yakup was already Occlumens and very skilled Legilimens, and with a threat of their also Legilimens uncle, Night didnt questioned at all. With their brother's help, Night mastered these two magical ability in years.

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Boggart Form: Night had 3 different Boggart in their life

⦁ Yakup (Jacob), with dark mark on his arm and looking at Night madly.

⦁ Rowan, saying everything would be better if it was Night who died.

⦁ Theirself, covered with blood and smiling madly, with Dark Mark.

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⦁ Amortentia: (What do they smell like?) Deep forest, rain, ocean, cold air, jasmine, black tea

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⦁ Patronus: Hawk, Hebridean Black-Dragon (After Rowan’s death)

Dragon patronus; One of the most powerful and formidable creatures of the magical world, dragons are ambitious and dominant. With the ability to breathe fire, they quickly assert themselves, garnering both fear and respect from those around them. They are unafraid to take risks and prefer to live by their own set of rules. They are quick to lead and do not back down from a challenge. Dragons are strong in their convictions and will stand for what they believe is right. Those with a dragon for a Patronus are sure to be fierce fighters, and the Dementors better be ready for a challenge.

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Patronus Memory: 

Playing with Cordell, Barnaby and Atlas (@vixenmcmahenhphm ) when they were child.

The first night they spend watching stars with Talbott. 

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Mirror of Erised:

İn childhood: Night with Yakup, their mom and their grandfather, all standing together and smiling.

İn adulthood: All of Night’s friends and family being together and alive

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Specialized/Favourite Spells:

Wingardium Leviosa

Flipendo Maxima

Colorovia

Accio

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APPEARANCE

Their casual look:

How i draw their hair:

Faceclaim: Alexander LeRoy - Ruby Rose

0Voice Claim: English: Ruby Rose-Turkish: Şebnem Ferah

Night had a thick Turkish accent when they started Hogwarts but in years it disappeared. They never liked this accent.

Have loud voice, and have no control on it.

Always have a smile on their face, unless they are having really rough moment.

Weird/ funny faces are something you can see often 

Their hair gets more straight and darker and as they grown

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Height: 183cm in Hogwarts-last year-, 188 cm when they are adult

Weight: Heavier than they looks

Physique: With spells and potions, they change their looks/body so often.

Eye Colour: Sky blue

Hair Colour: Navy Blue/ Blue

Skin Tone: Pale

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Body Modifications and Scarrings:

Four piercings in ears, one in right,  three in left side

Many scars and burn marks espacially after Buried Vault

Dark Mark on left arm

Few on their neck after war

Big burn mark on their left arm (where Dark Mark was)

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Inventory: 

Too many tiny chocolates so they can share

Yakup's and theirs old drawing notebook 

Pronoun bracelets

Their grandma's old jasmine perfume 

Quil, ink and a blue tiny notebook (written in Turkish so no one knows what they are writing)

Their own Rhea locket

Yakup's Rhea locket

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Fashion:

Loves buttoned shirts, but cant stand without rolling slevees up

Shorts and pants

Mostly hates skirts, but will wear it sometimes 

Likes black boots, especially with heels

Sweeters on shirts, when they need to look good

Hoodies, especially on rough days

Wears binder, most of time

Dress and suits on events, depends on how they are feeling

Doesnt like makeup, but okay with eyeliner

Always wears pronoun bracelets:

Grey- They/Them

Black- He/Him

White- She/Her

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ALLEGIANCES

Hogwarts House: Slytherin

Ilvermorny House: Wampus

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Affiliations/Organizations: 

Circle of Khanna

Order of the Phoenix

Death Eaters

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Professions: 

Curse Breaker: After graduating, Night worked with Bill and Yakup as a Curse Breaker.

Double Agent: İn Death Eaters, actually working for Order.

Dragonologist: After war, they moved to Romania and specialized Hebridean Black's. Night worked and lived here as dragonologist for nearly ten year.

Flying instructor: When Night moved back to England, they also started to work in Hogwarts as flying instructor, Quidditch referee, and coach.

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HOGWARTS INFORMATION

Class Proficiencies:

·      Astronomy: O

·      Charms: O

·      DADA: E

·      Flying: O

·      Herbology: A

·      History of Magic: A

·      Potions: O

·      Transfiguration: E

Electives:

COMC: A

Divination: A

Muggle Studies: A

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Quidditch: Chaser-Beater

⦁ Night started to play Quidditch in their second year as a Chaser. While they wasnt the best chaser, Night was enough to help Slytherin to win the Cup. They meet Gryfindor Chaser-Vixen during practise and whole year, they werent be able to be better chaser than her. The rivalry between her and Night made the dark haired kid realize maybe being chaser wasnt really something for them. in third year, thanks to McNully, they started to play as a beater, and find theirself being more succesfull than ever. After that, Vixen and Night's rivalry become more friendly. (Beginning of Nixen Au)

⦁ Their favorite practise partners are Charlie, Samantha (@samshogwarts ), Vixen (@vixenmcmahenhphm ) Andre, Orion and Rath.

⦁ Whenever Night was angry or stressed, and even flying didnt make them calm, they took the beaters bat and destroy some dummies. İn fourth year, Night injured some second year student. They were angry about Merula, and just wanted hurt something. So they went for dummies in Training Ground. Night wasnt looking actually where they was hitting, there was just the feeling of fullness . A sharp scream bring them to reality. İt was the first time they hurt someone out of anger, and unfortunatelly wasnt the last.

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Favourite Professors: 

Madam Hoach: She is strong and powerfull woman and her tough behavior makes Night adore her. And one quick note, Night is really afraid of making her mad. During their school life, Night interacted with her so often thanks to their Quidditch love.

McGonnagal: Even if she is not Night's head of house, Night find her much more easier to talk than other proffesors. They feel deeply guilty about the times they had to lie to her. McGonnagal and Talbott's close relationship makes Night feel even more warm about her.

Flitwick: He is someone who Night doesnt have any problem to talk. They enjoy his classes, and little chats they share. Night often share the teas their granpa send them from Turkey, and Flitwick always appreciate.

Least Favourite Professors: 

Snape: No one need a reason to dislike him, but Night actually doesnt hate him.

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RELATIONSHIPS

Father: Matthew Rhea

Second son of Alexander and Alycia Rhea. Known for his dicipline he got from his father, and his talent in Legilimency. İn Rhea family, the ones worth is same as their power in this magical ability. Being better than his older brother, made Matthew the golden child of family. And as you can imagine it seperated the brothers. Matthew was loyal follower of Dark Lord, a feared Death Eater. He believed wizarding world will be better with Voldemort, and never regretted for following him. Even if it cost his life.

He was never the father figure to Night. They doesnt remember him smiling to them, even for once. On Night's fifth birthday, Matthew decided to send them to Turkey, to Seline's family. For three years, Night stayed away from their home, with their grandfather and only comes back in summers when Yakup is back from Hogwarts. İn 1981 (When Night was eight years old) Matthew died in war, and Seline let Night to come back.

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Mother: Seline Rhea

Youngest in five sibling, fourth daughter of İbrahim and Saadet Yavuz. Seline lost her mother when she was two, so she has no memory of Saadet. İbrahim never treat any of his child differently and loved them all same, but Seline never been close to him, or most of her siblings. Even when she was a child, she was quiet, and keeping her distance from everyone. Books were her best and only friends. So when Seline meet with Matthew, leaving her home and country wasnt actually hard decision to made. Seline loved Matthew with her whole heart. He wasnt trying to change her, and that was what she was asking for, for her whole life. Young woman knows, that he was interested in her being Legilimens, but she didnt care. If she was powerfull enough for him to want her as his wife, she thinks its something she should be proud of.

She fit perfectly in Rhea's. Her new house was nothing like Yavuz's warm and loud house, just like how she is also nothing like. Seline couldnt be more proud, when she and Matthew discovered Jacob is also Legilimens. She was excited for her second child too, but when she hold her newborn, she saw the look on Matthew eyes. The disapointment. He didnt like his child to have bright blue hair. At first, Seline didnt think it will be problem, its only color of hair after all. But real problem was, Night being nothing like a Rhea. They were energetic, loud child. Running in house, climbing on whatever they finds, jumping on every water pot they saw. Seline knows they were exactly like her own siblings, nieces. Night wasnt nothing like Jacob (Seline's Turkish accent turned his name into Yakup).

On the fifth birthday that Night turned five, she didnt even say anything when Matthew told her to send Night to Turkey, next to her father.

After Matthew died, Yakup was her everything. And Night was.. Just someone from her past, her own family, something she wanted to leave her behind but couldnt. Unfortunatelly, not so long after Matthew death, Yakup get expelled from Hogwarts and went missing. To find him, Seline did something she thought she wont be ever doing it. She begged Matthew's brother Jonathan for help. And her answer was only a smile. A cold smile, belongs to someone who is happy to have all the control on family now

Night's three year, when they were alone with their mother was, rough. Everyday was about Yakup, about finding him. To have Seline's attention, Night do everything they can do to act like Yakup, look like Yakup. İt was impossible for them, but in their mind it was their only goal. Being someone their mother will love.

The first time Seline looked lovingly at them, was when Night was about to get in Hogwarts Express. When they promised her to find Yakup.

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Sibling: Jacob (Yakup) Rhea

Yakup and Night werent able to spend much time together, when they were child. Thanks to their ten year difference between their ages, they only saw each other in summers. İn their cold house, Yakup was the only one who loved Night deeply, other than their nany Goni. He was well aware of how his Pip wasnt like his other cousins, other Rhea's, and  that was enough reason for him to love them. Their smile and loud excited voice was the thing warms the house in Yakup's eyes. 

When he get expelled, he knows all of his burdens became Night's. He regretted deeply, but there was nothing he can do from a portrait. He waited for his "sister" to rescue him, waited so patiently and dreamed the day they reunited. But when Night finally came, it wasnt like how he imagined. 

They both wanted to have back the ones they remember from seven years ago. But the truth is, both were so different now, and they doesnt want to admit it. Their old beautiful relationship was gone now, and wont be same for so long. After Hogwarts, they fight a lot. Argued a lot, couldnt agree on same things. Until Night took the mission that will change their life forever.

When Night first runned away, right after they killed an auror in front of him, Yakup lived the hardest weeks in his life. He saw in their eyes himself, how he was when he first get expelled. He already knew Night changed so much, when Rowan died. And couldnt help but feel like all of it was his fault. Now his Pip was so lost inside, so lost that couldnt able to see whats wrong or right. So he searched for Night with everything he has. 

Of course he didnt know it was all part of their plan. Thankfully soon enough, Night came back to him to explain everything. That they will be a spy in Death Eaters, and needs him to be their Secret Keeper. But also they needed him to promise. Promise to see the mission more important than their life. (Will be contunied in Future AU)

After war, their relationship was better than ever, and they finally have the sibling they both missed so much.

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Grandfather (Mother's Dad): İbrahim Yavuz

Lovely Turkish old man who looked after his five children alone, after his wife died. He loved all of his kids all same, but his kids are all different. Four daughter and one son, Seline was the youngest one, and the coldest one to İbrahim.

One day when Night and their nany Goni showed up on his door, he was more suprised than he was happy. Living with tiny energetic child  who cant understand his own language for three years was actually hard for İbrahim. But thanks to Goni who can talk to both languages, Night started to understand and talk Turkish in short time. Well enough to have an accent actually. With their cousins, aunts and uncle here, Night actually had a big and  lovely home there. Their name was hard to pronounce in Turkish, so İbrahim gave them another name. He never liked Night's names meaning, and choose the name that means entirelly opposite of 'Night'. "Nur". It means " The light of the God" and İbrahim thinks it fits his grandchildren more.

As much as Night loved the Yavuz household and Turkey, they missed their mother, brother,home. Ibrahim wasnt sure if Seline would take Night back to England, if Matthew didnt died. He was hoping Seline would come back now, with her son. But Seline refused, and instead of coming back to Turkey, she took Night back.

Night wrote letters to him so often, and in every change they visit Turkey. İbrahim was parent to them, more than their own family and they couldnt be more grateful to have him as grandfather.

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Uncle: Jonathan Rhea

First son of Alexander and Alycia Rhea. He is only two years older than Matthew. He married with Elyssa Black, and had two child. Cora Rhea, a Legilimens and  two years older than Jacob; and Cordell Rhea in same age with Night. İn 1981, Jonathan lost his daughter and his wife.

Losing half of his own family shaked him deeply, but on the other hand, now Matthew is also gone,and it was good enough to make him forget about his pain. All the responsibilty of Rhea's is now Jonathan's. He is the only one who is head of family now. Or at least, its what he think.

Little he know Seline will be the biggest impediment to him. She wont let him to take the big house (Where Matthew and her staying with their childs, because Matthew was the head of family) She refused him, and told him Yakup will be the one who will take Matthew's place. She knows how Jonathan hate her and Yakup. He wouldnt let Seline stay in family or even England. So she fight with Jonathan with all her power. Until Yakup disappears.

After that, Seline lost her hopes, she even begged him to help her find her son.She promised to leave England if he helps. But Jonathan didnt care, he took everything he wanted after all. The house, being the important one. He was no longer the one who is forgotten in his little brothers shadow. He is the one who is in control now. He even took Night from Seline. Night lived in his house from their fourth year to seventh year.

When Night started Hogwarts, Jonathan told his son to stop them. From finding Yakup. Because he cant risk his nephew to come back, and took everything he earned.  Unfortunatelly, his fears will come true and Yakup will come back. Jonathan will hate him with all his being and this hate will be dangerous when Voldemort returns.

Jonathan will be the one, who offer Night a place in Death Eaters when Night run away from their first crime. He will say he is proud of them for choosing the right way and realizing Yakup is the traitor one, not him. And will say Matthew would be also proud of them.

During war time, Jonathan will be the biggest enemy of Night, even if he wont know about it.

-

Love Interest: 

Talight- Talbott Winger 

Night and him meet in third year thanks to Penny. Night didnt even know his name,and Talbott was staying away from the cursed vault kid to avoid trouble. It actually took them long time to be close friends. But once they became friends, they found theirselves a way to escape from other. At first, they see each other as a someone who can understand other ones feelings. Talbott learned Night isnt always as happy as they seems or they isnt just a selfish troublemaker. And Night learned Talbott isnt someone who has stone cold heart and doesnt care about others. They so often fly together in night, sit in silent in owlery, read their own books in libary,and sometimes running/flying around just for fun. Talbott learned to like some harmless chaos, and Night learned to be not afraid of silence. İn fourth year, Night realized they have deeper feelings for him, but couldnt risk to lose his friendship. They were happy enough to have him as friend. But Tulip reading their secret notebook out loud didnt help them to hide their feelings. The notebook was written in Turkish so no one could understand, but Night completely forget about how Tulip actually knows Turkish. Even if it happened out of Night's control, it didnt end like how Night feared. 

As much as they both loved each other, being in relationship is something these two doesnt know well. İn fifth year, they dealed with some tiny (!) jealousy. Night meets with Jae, and being in detention whole year help them become a close friend in short time. Being busy with Rakepick and her tasks, Night was quiet busy and Jae was the only one they can see without needing help. (Remember how Rowan said they were only comes to their friend to get help?) Our little bird didnt like to feel in this way. But this feeling wasnt just keeping "him" awake in nights. It was eating Night from inside too. They were aware of how they couldnt see Talbott so often, and actually missing  their piecefull times together. They couldnt help but notice how he got close with Badeea. Not that they thinks Talbott shouldnt have friends. Actually they were happy about how these two Ravenclaw sharing their own worlds to each other. Night just, felt unsure if they are good enough for Talbott, in a way Badeea is more than enough. Night and Badeea were so different, and Night  couldnt help but compare theirself with her. Our couple didnt actually broke up, but i can say they had some walls between their hearts now, the ones they both didnt wanted but thought other one needs it. They goes to Summer Festival, with different people. Wanna guess who?? Of course Badeea and Jae. They both watch each other laugh with someone else. But in the end of the year, when Night and others came back from Buried Vault, Talbott was the one who hold them while they were crying.

Next two year, they both supported each other. (Yes im just skipping all the things because, there is things im excited to write and draw and dont wanna spoil it here). But before graduation, Night wanted to break up. To focus on theirselves. Night knows how Talbott worked hard to be auror, and they doesnt want him to worry about them while having so many things to worry about already. Talbott didnt like the idea of course, refused at first. He blamed them, get angry, didnt talked to them for days. But then, he understood why Night saying these. To accept it, he wanted them to promise him something. That they will come back to him. No matter as what, as a lover, as a friend, as a someone who still have warmt in their heart for him.

Well, in a way, Night keep their promise. (Will be continued in Future AU)

-

Nelix- Felix Rosier 

İn Hogwarts, their relationship was mostly about Felix trying to keep Night out of trouble and fail every time. He became Dragonologist when he graduated, and Night send him maybe too many letters to ask about life in Romania. (Charlie also aprecciated his letters too, as you can imagine.) Being Dragonologist was Night's dream job, even if they doesnt think they will be doing it in future. So after graduation, just to see Charlie, dragons and Romania (definitelly not to see Felix, please) they travelled there a lot.

Seeing each other again, with other Death Eaters was not what they both hoped. Night knew Felix would be there. But for him, seeing Night there was shocking. He was disappointed, but thought about maybe Night was forced by their family, just like him. (Will be continued in Future AU)

After all the rough time they managed to survive, they both needed to heal from what they saw, what they did. And being far away from England was just what they needed.

-

Nixen AU- Vixen McMahen (@vixenmcmahenhphm )

-

Marhea AU- Atlas Marson (@vixenmcmahenhphm )

(Just leaving note here, im always open for making ship au's. If youre interested, let me know so we can have fun!)

-

Best Friends: 

Rowan Khanna

Talbott Winger

Barnaby Abernathy Lee

Ben Copper

Bill Weasley

Charlie Weasley

Andre Egwu

Jae Bo Kim

Tonks

Erika Rath

Merula Snyde

Chiara Lobosca

Tulip Karasu

Liz Tuttle

Badeea Ali

-

Enemy:

Patricia Rakepick- R

Jonathan Rhea- Death Eaters

-

Dormmates: 

Rowan Khanna, Liz Tuttle, Marina Willow (@mira-shard)

(Send me dm if you want your mc and Night be roommates! Two spots open for girls room!)

Barnaby Abernathy Lee, Cordell Rhea

(Send me dm if you want your mc and Night be roommates! Two spots open for boys room!)

-

Pets: 

Marshall: Night look after Yakup's closest friend, a black cat, after he disappears. After him, poor kitty become so quiet,and in nights cant sleep without Night in room. They promised Marshall to take Yakup back, but before he can come back Marshall passed away (İn beginning of fifth year). After him, Night didnt have any pet.

-

-

Closest MC Friends: Let me know if i can put your mc's name here!

Miscellaneous:

⦁ With Felix words, Night is “too chaotic and energetic like a Gryfindor”. You can see them running around anytime -mostly after Jae, Vixen or Tonks- or laughing with tears on their face. Not to mention they have a loud voice and you will hear when they laugh everytime. (Chiara admit it later that she was afraid of telling her secret to Night just because of this. But dont worry, they can be very secretive.) Night’s face always wears their emotions, that means you can see a lot of weird and funny expressions.

⦁ Chocolate is the key of happy Night. Whenever they have a chocolate frog, you can see a bright smile on their face. Bad Quidditch match? They will eat chocolate angrily on Pitch. Bad exam? Chocolate again with a face that shows you how their brain is burned. Snape’s favorite punishment for Night? Honeydukes Ban. Night will probably just curl up on grass in Training Grounds and wait for the day pass. Also a cup of tea could make Night very happy too. Thanks to their grandpa, they know how to make tea in every way, so they would be so happy if you join them for tea.

⦁ Because of that bright attitude of them, Night wasnt taken seriously at first. When some older Slytherins talked about Jacob in common room, everyone in room learned about how Night doesnt hold back when they are angry. İn years, they did a lot of things out of anger that they will regret later.

⦁ Night is a person who cant tell easily their negative feeling.When they got sad, they got quiet. Mostly Night just hide their sadness behind their smile and hope that it will be gone.

[wtnrscap]

Never Enough

Pairings- Steve Rogers x Reader, slight Bucky Barnes x Reader towards the end, platonic Tony Stark x Reader, platonic Natasha Romanoff x Reader.

Summary-  Steve Rogers has been forced to adjust to 21st-century life. Y/N has been by his side every step of the way. But in recent weeks, it feels as though she’s living in the shadow of a certain British Agent. She realises she’s fighting a losing battle. A choice will have to be made. But it isn’t up to her. It has, and always will be, the Captain’s choice.

Warnings- Winter Soldier, Civil War, Infinity War, Endgame references. Mentions of previous sexy times, brief smut and fluff. Swearing and angst. 

A/N- Italics are the past. Bold is lyrics. Inspired by ‘Never Enough’ by Loren Allred from The Greatest Showman. I’ve always wondered how a lover of Steve would deal with him still being in love with Peggy, how that would affect their relationship and what would happen to them in Endgame. I wanna explore that, so feeling like this is gonna be quite long. I won’t even hint at the ending.

I am gonna say that while writing this, I am crying. Like, ugly crying. Steve and Bucky’s goodbye is so freaking emotional. Okay, I’m okay. Enjoy!

Word Count- 3.2K

Masterlist

The sunlight filtered through the silent room, highlighting her tears. Today was the day. Today was the day that Steve Rogers had to make the biggest choice of his life.

-

“Steve!”

The scream echoed around the battleground and the blonde turned his head, unclipping his helmet, his heart pounding painfully. 

A woman stood a few metres away, her face dirted, her Y/E/C eyes wide as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

For a few moments, the pair stared at each other. Steve’s helmet clattered to the ground and she was running, her hair flying out behind her before she jumped, her legs wrapping around his waist, his hands in her hair and their lips joined in a passionate embrace. When she finally pulled back, she giggled, allowing herself to get lost in his blue eyes. Steve nuzzled into her neck, panting slightly, “You’re okay... You’re back... We’re okay... We’re going to be okay...”

-

Y/N wiped the tears and took a deep, shaky breath. Since their reunion, Steve had told her absolutely everything. 

The aftermath of the snap, Thanos destroying the stones, Thor killing Thanos, 5 years, Scott’s return, time travel, time heist, the new snap and, finally, the moments leading up to the final battle.

She’d figured it out in seconds. He didn’t need to say it. 

Y/N sighed, standing and walking over to the window where she could see Steve talking to Bruce as they set up the time machine. In the morning light, Steve looked beautiful, his blond hair smoothed over and a mug between his lips. Y/N wondered if he’d always been this beautiful...

-

“Captain Rogers? Are you here?” Y/N dropped her keys into the bowl by Steve’s front door and walked into the living room to a strange sight. Pillows and duvets were bunched in a mess on the floor and the mound was moving slightly. Y/N moved forwards slowly, “Captain Rogers...?”

“How many more times? Call me Steve!” Steve’s head popped up through the blankets, his blonde hair messed up and blue eyes wide with mock anger. She almost had to coo at cute he looked.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Steve stood up and brushed off his trousers, “I found a list that had 100 things you have to do before you get too old and I’m working my way through it. Pillow fort was one of them.”

“I hate to break it to you Captain, but I think you’re a bit too old...” Y/N giggled. Steve pouted, “What will it take for you to call me Steve? Now help me! I feel like you’re better at this than me!”

“As your tutor, trying to get you to experience things you’ve missed out on, I will help you. Not because I’m a big kid,” she shrugged out of coat and picked up some pillows. Steve frowns, “It’s not that I’ve never made a pillow fort... It’s just I can’t remember how to. And need new memories, I’ve decided, fresh, happy memories.”

“Well, Steve, I’ll be perfectly happy to help you make new memories.”

Steve blushed slightly as he realised she hadn’t called him Captain and picked up a pillow, “Pillow fight!”

-

Y/N felt a hand rest on her shoulder and jumped when she saw Bucky standing behind her, “Are you okay?”

She nodded her head, “Yeah, I think so... Do you know?”

“Do I know what?”

“What Steve’s planning. As his best friend, have you figured it out?”

Bucky brushed a strand of hair out of his face and refused to look at her in the eyes, “I... I have an inkling of what he’s about to do...”

Y/N sighed and turned away from the window, another tear trickling down her face, “I was never enough...”

“What?”

“You know, it was you who brought us together. I’d been helping Steve to fit into the 21st century and I liked him, but on Nick Fury’s orders, I couldn’t... be with him. That day, back in 2014, when you saved his life... I realised I couldn’t lose him without him knowing how I felt...”

Bucky smiled weakly, “Glad to be of assistance, doll.”

-

“Is he okay?” Y/N pushed past Sam, forcing her way into Steve’s hospital room to see his smirking face. Without thinking, she dived onto him, making him gasp in pain, “Careful, careful! Y/N it’s good to see you too!”

A punch to his arm made him gasp again, “What was that for?”

“You’re an idiot Steve Rogers. When I saw you fall... My heart was in my mouth, I was so scared!”

“I’m sorry for scaring you... But I’m okay... I promise...”

“How did you survive? You should have drowned!”

“I don’t know... Steve suddenly looked thoughtful and Y/N grabbed his wrist tightly forcing him to look her eyes, “What?”

“Fuck Nick Fury and his stupid rules!” Y/N pressed her lips to Steve’s and his eyes widened before he kissed her back. When he pulled back, he was blushing, “What was that?”

“You almost died Steve! I can’t lose you... I just can’t... I love you...”

Steve flushes, “I love you too... I can’t believe that I’m asking you after everything we’ve... Be mine!”

“Yes, Steve! Thousand times yes!”

-

The air by lake seems clearer, and Y/N takes a deep breath, savouring her last sane moments. She knows she should spend them with him, but right now she can’t even look at him without a dull pain shooting through her heart. The last 24 hours have helped her to see every beautiful second with Steve, but at the same time, she has seen every flaw and every fight.

-

Steve gasped, rolling of Y/N and wiping a sheen of sweat of his forehead, “That was... amazing!”

Y/N nodded her head and pulled the duvet up to her chin, “It was certainly something else.”

Steve turned his head, his brows furrowing, “It wasn’t good for you? I love you, I tried to show you how much I-”

“Best sex I’ve ever had, Stevie...” she interrupted, standing up. Steve grabs her wrist, “Where are you going?”

“I’ve worked up an appetite after that.”

(20 minutes later)

Natasha sipped at her coffee, “Clearly Steve can please you. Has he got the golden dick?”

Y/N laughed bitterly, “Gave me an orgasm and that’s all I can say about it.”

“That bad?”

Unshed tears fill Y/N’s eyes and Natasha frowned, wrapping her arms around her, “What’s wrong? Tell me.”

“I love him, Tasha, so much, so goddamn much but I’m not enough! These hands could hold the world and it’ll never be enough!”

“What do you mean?”

“As he finished inside me, he called me Peggy! Every time we’re alone, he talks about how amazing Peggy is, how much he loved her, how much he misses her. I can’t compete!” she wept and Natasha’s gripped tightened on Y/N’s shoulder. Standing quickly, Natasha left the room, her eyes narrowed in a death stare.

-

Y/N almost had to laugh at how wrong things went after that. She had supported him at Peggy’s funeral, and then fought with him in Germany. Things came to a head in the Quinjet, on the way to Siberia.

-

“I KNOW YOU’RE STRUGGLING STEVE, I KNOW IT’S HARD FOR YOU BUT LOOK AT ME! I’M IN FRONT OF YOU! I’M RIGHT HERE! PEGGY’S DEAD! SHE’S GONE!” Y/N screamed, her emotions getting the better of her. The Quinjet was on autopilot and Bucky was trying his best to pretend he couldn’t hear the argument.

“SHE WAS THE LOVE OF MY LIFE, Y/N! YOU NEED TO RESPECT THAT!” Steve yelled back. Y/N rolled her eyes, “I HAVE RESPECTED THAT SINCE YOU WERE PULLED OUT OF THE ICE! BUT I AM YOUR GIRLFRIEND! OR AM I JUST A TOY, ON THE SIDE TILL YOU FIND A WAY BACK TO HER?”

“I-”

“I don’t wanna break up with you Stevie...” Y/N lowered her voice, “And I don’t think you wanna break up with me. This stuff with Bucky is important, and with you fighting Tony, we’re going to need each other more than ever. What’s happening now, with the Avengers, is the end. This is the end of the Avengers.”

Steve paled and pulled Y/N close, kissing her temple, “I’m sorry.”

“Me too...”

-

“It’s not your fault. It was never your fault. He was and always has been blinded. I wanted to slap him sometimes...”

Y/N turns her head and sees Tony and Natasha, staring back her. They look younger and happier. Natasha reaches out her hand and Y/N tries to take it, but her hand goes through Natasha’s. Tears spill down her cheeks, “I need you, Tasha. I need you, Tony... I can’t do this on my own.”

“You don’t really have a choice in the matter. We’re gone, dead, and soon... Capiscle will be too,” Tony responds with a sad smile, “But we’re here to tell you that we may be gone... but we’re in your heart. You are not alone.”

“I am so alone...”

“No. You were not alone on Titan, I was with you, and I was with you when you came back...” Tony took a step forward. Natasha scrunched up her eyes, “I’ve been with you since 2012. I have given you advice, gossiped with you and now I’m here, reminding you that I’m not gone...”

“Thank you, both of you... Tasha, for being the best friend any girl could ask for, and Tony for always looking out for me. I was so scared on Titan. Natasha, I wished we could have said goodbye to each other...”

“This is goodbye.”

“Tony... “

“I heard you... as I was dying... I heard your words. I died unafraid.”

Tony and Natasha take a step back, “Don’t forget us, Y/N. We love you...”

“I love you too. I love you so much...”

-

“Tony...? Tony, what’s happening?” Y/N stumbled into Tony’s arm as the man weeps for Peter. He caught her and she fell to the ground, her mouth whispering, “Tell Steve... Tell him I’m sorry... He’ll understand...”

“Where is he? Why weren’t you with him?” asked Tony desperately. Tears filled Y/N’s beautiful eyes, “We argued... We were on a break... I can’t tell you where he is because I don’t know. The last time I saw him... I tried to get away, so far away and ended up in New York... I’m scared Tony...”

“I know... I’m right here... don’t let go of my hand...”

“Why did you forgive me? For what happened in Germany?”

“Thanos is a too bigger threat for silly fights.”

“They were your parents...” Y/N’s eyes began to dull, her skin flaking away. Tony gulped, “They’re were my past, you are my future...”

“Not much future here... Tell... Tell Steve... Tell Steve I love him...” Y/N turned her head to the side, her skin disappearing, gone from Tony’s hands as he whispered, “He knows...”

(1 Month Later)

“Tony... I need you to focus...” Steve addressed Tony carefully. Tony snapped his head around to look at Steve, “And I needed you, as in past tense. That trumps what you need. It’s too late, buddy! You know what I need?”

Tony turned around to face everybody, “I need a shave and a burger, not a bowl of soup. And I believe I remember telling all of you, alive and otherwise, that we needed a suit of armour around the world, whether it impacted our precious freedoms or not-”

“But that didn’t work out, did it?!” snapped Steve angrily. Tony jabbed a finger in Steve’s chest, “I said we’d lose, you said we’d ‘do that together, too.’ Guess what, Cap, we lost, and you weren’t there. But that’s what we do, right? Our best work after the fact? We’re the ‘Avengers’, not the ‘Pre-vengers’-”

“Take it easy, Tony...” Rhodey muttered. Tony ignored him, “I’ve got nothing for ya, Cap. No coordinates, no clues, no strategies, no options. Zero, zip, nada. No trust,” Tony ripped the RT from his chest and pushed it into Steve’s hand, “Here. Take this. You find him, you put this on, and hide...”

Weakly, Tony dropped to his knees, “I’m fine! Cap... When I say I have nothing, I mean it... You haven’t even asked about her and you know I was with her. She was right about you. You don’t love her in the way she loves you. She was never enough for you.”

Steve’s hands slipped and he stared at Tony hard, “Don’t talk to me like you understand what was going on.”

“She told me everything. As she dusted away, she said you were taking a break. I know she always felt like she was living in Peggy’s shadow. And she was right. Wanna know her last words?”

Steve was walking away but stopped in his tracks. Tony smirked, “I thought so. Her last words were this, exactly, ‘Tell Steve I love him’. I said he knows. But I don’t think you do.”

Steve stormed out of the room, the distant sound of smashing floating into the room.

-

“Y/N? It’s time...” Bucky’s voice sounded in her ear and a wave of nausea swept over her.

The time machine had been set up and Steve was talking to Bruce. Sam approached Steve, “You look a little nervous going by yourself. Ask nicely, I’ll go with you.”

“You’re a good man, Sam. But this one’s on me.”

With a small nod, Bucky leaves Y/N’s side and smiles sadly at Steve. Steve doesn’t break eye contact with him, “Don’t do anything stupid ‘til I get back, okay?”

“How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you...” mutters Bucky. Steve grins and Bucky pulls him into a long, sorrowful hug, “Gonna miss you, buddy...”

“It’s going to be okay, Bucky...” replies Steve, trying to sound confident. 

Y/N’s eyes hadn’t left the ground. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think straight. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t-

“Y/N? Look at me, please. I don’t wanna leave like this.”

She didn’t look at him, “You should just go. Make it easier for both of us. I know your choice and I know what you’ve chosen.”

Steve shakes his head and places his finger under her chin, forcing her to look up, “You don’t know because I don’t know. I still haven’t made my mind up.”

“Yes, you have.”

“Last night-”

“Last night was the worst sex we’ve ever had. I’m telling you, Steve Rogers, you’ve made your mind up. And as much as I hate it, you deserve to be with someone who can make you happy. That person is not me.”

A hand cups her cheek, “You’ve made me so happy. You’ve spent 10 years thinking you weren’t enough, and you were. You were more than enough. You were too much for me. I didn’t deserve you.”

“Steve, please... Please... Just go...” begs Y/N, her eyes watering again. Steve leans forward, pressing a bittersweet kiss to her mouth. It’s hot and cold, black and white. It’s goodbye.

When she pulls away, Steve’s heart breaks a little more. It’s goodbye.

Sam turns to Bruce, “How long’s this gonna take?”

“For him, as long as he needs. For us, five seconds. Ready, Cap? You’re good to go. Meet you right back here, okay?”

You bet!” Steve calls back, glancing at Bucky, then at Y/N, who’s walking away. Steve’s heart breaks a little more and looks at Bucky again, mouthing, “Look after her...”

Bucky nods his head.

“Going Quantum in three, two, one.”

Steve disappears and Bruce’s voice rings out to where Y/N is now standing stock still, “Aaand, returning in five... four... three... two... one-”

Silence. Nothing happens.

Y/N pales as panic erupts.

“Where is he?”

“I don’t know! He blew past our timestamp. He should be here.”

“Get him back!”

“I’m trying!”

“GET HIM THE HELL BACK-”

“I’M TRYING!!”

Y/N’s knees buckle and she lands in the mud, crawling into a fetal position as the truth hits her. Bucky’s voice calls out, “Y/N!”

He’s with her seconds as she cries into the ground, his arms around her tightly as he picks her up bridal style. She wriggles into her chest as Sam’s hushed voice echoes around the lake, “What the hell?”

Both Bucky and Y/N look up to see Sam holding Steve’s shield, “It was just left here. With this note.”

“Read it!” cries Bucky. Sam gulps, “’ Sam. Right now, you’re probably feeling a little confused. I knew I had a choice when I went back. I could stay in the past with Peggy or come back. If I stayed with Peggy, there’d be no Captain America in the future. So this is for you. A brilliant man once told me that I must remain a good man and not a perfect soldier. You are a good man. I know you will always try your best, which is why it’s going to you. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to give you it in person, but I still have important choices to make. I wish you, and Bucky, and Y/N the very best. And who knows, maybe one day, we will meet again. Because it’s been a long, long time.’“

Sam looks up in awe and Bucky smiles, “Good on you Birdbrain. Now I have to help Y/N clean up.”

Sam nods his head as Bucky walks away, Y/N in his arms. He knows the world is changing, and with Steve gone, it’s up to him, and Sam, and Y/N. The world still needs protecting. But first, they have to heal. They have to rest. 

-

I wanted to leave this ending open to specualtion as to what Steve does. However, I have written an ending for those who want some closure.

- Bonus Scene - 

He peers out from behind the trees and watches as Bucky carries Y/N away. He doesn’t know why he didn’t reveal himself but he knows he’s made the right decision with Sam. He thinks he made the right choice coming back. 

One look at Peggy and Steve realises he made a massive mistake. All those years making Y/N feel worthless because he was still in love with Peggy and now he doesn’t want her. He just wants Y/N.

He’d written the note before he left the 40s and then accidentally blew past the time stamp. To top things off, he missed the landing point. Fallen into some mud behind a tree and barely had time to dump the shield and note in a place where Sam would find it.

When he saw Y/N on the floor, seemingly having a panic attack, his heart had shattered. He’d almost ran out to her, but Bucky got there first. Then he felt rooted to the spot. What if Bucky could offer more than he could? What if Bucky was better than him? 

He’d spent years making Y/N feel like she was never enough and now fear crept in. What if she didn’t want him?

Steve realised he had to hide, and see if Y/N liked Bucky better. If she did... 

He’d leave. Not to the past, or the future. But somewhere desolate. Somewhere quiet and alone.

Alone. 

Y/N had always said she was born alone and she’d die alone. 

But she was never alone.

Steve had been born with someone and had always assumed he die with someone. 

For the first time ever, he was alone. He had nothing. Absolutely nothing.

For the first time ever, Steve was genuinely terrified.

He had nowhere to go.

Tony was right. They’d lost. He’d lost. And he’d had to lose it on his own.

[lotstradamus]

top 5 episodes of your favorite show

hHahahahahHHAHAHAHha let us, pray tell, fucking go

2.13 Mizumono: THE SEASON TWO FINALE. beyond a shadow of a doubt my all-time favourite episode of ANY television show, and 100% my most-watched. it’s stunning from start to finish, but my PERSONAL FAVOURITE ELEMENT is that Hannibal is HEARTBROKEN. in the previous episode Bedelia is like ‘if you think you’re in control of this situation, it’s because Hannibal wants you to think that’ but then you realise that NOPE, he ACTUALLY believed everything Will was saying, hook line and sinker, he thought they were going to run away and be together -- he was ready to be like HERE’S ABIGAIL, OUR SURROGATE DAUGHTER, SHE IS IN FACT NOT DEAD AND NOW WE CAN BE A FAMILY -- and when he finds out that Will is lying he destroys both of their lives. Will tipping Hannibal off, Will seeing Abigail, ‘you were supposed to leave’, the moment where the audience and Will both think that Hannibal is going to kiss him only to get STABBED IN THE ABDOMEN (us emotionally, Will literally). it’s just absolutely glorious from start to finish. nothing like burning down the entire structure of your show and salting the ground after you. special mention goes to the comedy beat of the episode: ‘Where’s Jack?’ ‘...In the pantry.’ 

1.01 Aperatif: sometimes I put this episode on just to soothe me. everything about it is phenomenal. the slow pan up Hannibal’s dining table laden with pomegranates and Mads Mikkelsen’s face half in shadow like a skull... the meet-cute, i.e. Will being rude enough to Hannibal’s face to get himself murdered 3x over but Hannibal instead being like hmmmm: this one... Will being unfriendly and prickly and weird and then the reveal that he rescues stray dogs and shows them so much love and affection... the chiaroscuro lighting throwing shadows over the two of them as Hannibal feeds Will for the first time... ‘I don’t find you that interesting.’ ‘You will.’... Garret Jacob Hobbs... Abigail... it’s a perfect encapsulation of the show in miniature! it’s so beautiful! there is so much shit coming and none of them have any idea! 

3.13 The Wrath of the Lamb: oooOOOH. LOVE CRIIiiIIIiII I IIiiii III iME. the back half of season three is such a shock to the system after the heart-rending intimacy and grief of the first seven episodes, and this episode is no different. planning Hannibal’s death, double crossing, faking deaths a few times over, Will manipulating Hannibal and Hannibal manipulating Will (their love language!), and then it flips the switch and dials up the intimacy and it aaaaall culminates in Hannibal and Will in perfect sync, doing what they’ve wanted to do for so long, working together and finally B E C O M I N G. they haven’t touched each other in three years. and then this. I will NEVER get over it. WHERE IS SEASON FOUR 

2.08: the episode with the dead body in the horse. also the episode with the guy sewn alive into the horse and then climbing out of the inside of the horse. on an Other Things level, Jeremy Davies’ performance as Peter Bernadone is insane. the man can do anything! Clark Ingrams manages to be a spine-chilling antagonist despite only being in two scenes, and WILL PULLING THE TRIGGER ON HIM AND HANNIBAL CATCHING THE TRIGGER WITH HIS HAND IS SUCH A #MOMENT. it kickstarts the Randal Tier, even stevens, killing Freddie and eating her together and just being gay as hell final 5 episodes. brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique, completely not ever been done before, unafraid to reference or not reference, put it in a blender, shit on it, vomit on it, eat it, give birth to it.

3.07 Digestivo: THIS EPISODE IS BALLS TO THE WALL UNHINGED FROM START TO FINISH AND IT IS INCREDIBLE. Mason’s delivery of ‘You boys remind me of that German cannibal who advertised for a friend and then ate him... and his PENIS before he died’ and Hannibal nearly busting out laughing. Alana’s delivery of ‘Do you know what happens if we stimulate your prostate gland with a cattle prod? Hannibal does.’ -- and those are two of the more regular happenings in this episode! it also involves naked Hannibal, a botched face transplant, a pig incubating a human foetus, and a man deep-throating an eel to death. not to mention it ends with a) Hannibal bridal carrying Will to safety, b) Will breaking Hannibal’s heart AGAIN by dumping him AGAIN, and c) Hannibal being the world’s premiere petty bitch. turn it up! 

[awackyphdinadorkable]

Cherik Moodboard - The Snow Queen AU

Charles and Erik were the best of friends ever since they were small children. They didn’t just grow up together, but they also learned to master their special abilities together. Erik and his mother live in a small house just down the road, so Edie does not have to travel far to manage the gardens and all the flowers at Westchester.

These days, Erik helps his mother as best as he can, which, of course, always gives plenty of opportunity for him to spend time with his best friend to play chess or get drunk on Charles’s late step-father’s fine selection of drinks.

Now short before coming of age, Charles can finally claim ownership over his family’s estate and transform it into a school for the likes of them. Their dream is just within reach. A place for themselves, where others can hone their skills, unafraid of what others may think of them.

But a tragic accident during winter leads to Edie’s death, which leaves Erik petrified. Charles tries his best to console his friend, but even with his abilities, he doesn’t know how to help Erik look towards a brighter future to regain hope. Instead, Erik grows more and more obsessed with snowflakes and old stories.

After a night of heavy drinking to numb the pain together, Erik sneaks out into the night while Charles is fast asleep. Erik is visited by a beautiful woman made of ice, just like in his mother’s tales. The Snow Queen. She offers him a life of no pain, no suffering. Erik feels more than tempted to go with her, but when he hears Charles calling out to him, the Queen is already gone by the time he turns back around.

Wind picks up and something flies into his eyes, making his eyes burn with unshed tears. Charles ushers Erik back inside, and for the first time in a long time, Erik swats his friend’s hand away, arguing that he has no need for help.

In the days to come, Erik grows more and more irritated with Charles and his constant talk about the school, the dream. Was it ever truly his dream or was he just trying to please Charles? Erik is no longer sure. What if Charles went too far into his head to plant that seed there? What if he was a fool to ever trust him? People don’t accept them now, why would they ever change their mind? They are all the same in the end, aren’t they?

But whenever he addresses those matters to Charles, he just feels his heart clench with cold, seeing the other man’s sadness and disappointment. Most of these days, Erik wished Charles just left him alone, that everyone just left him alone so he could watch the snowflakes. When Erik goes to see his mother’s grave, he is visited by the Snow Queen again. She kisses him and he doesn't feel the cold anymore. The Queen offers to kiss him another time, to forget all this, all the people who’ve caused him suffering.

“And then everything will be in order again. Like snowflakes.”

Erik agrees and she kisses him another time. And just like that, his mother fades from his mind, Charles does. There is just endless white and the Queen guiding him to a sled of ice taking him away from a world that won’t ever accept him.

When Charles realizes that Erik is gone, he is desperate to find him. But no matter how far he reaches with his mind, he can’t detect him. Charles is in despair. His best friend is somewhere out there, and he can’t get to him. He can’t help him. Just what is he supposed to do?

In the nights that follow, Charles continues to be plagued by nightmares. Strange visions of a broken mirror dipped in blood. A castle made of ice. And inside it he sees Erik bowing to a woman wearing a crown made of ice. At first, he thinks this is just his mind playing tricks on him, the way it was when he didn’t yet know of his abilities and thought he was going mad.

Until Erik helped him see that he was, in fact, not mad. That the voices inside his head weren’t his own but of those around him.

When Charles passes by a river, thinking back to how they used to bathe in it as children, the images come back to him, like lightning striking in his head. Charles collapses into a wooden boat and blacks out, though the boat, without anyone’s doing sets sail. By the time he awakens, Charles finds himself far away from home in a boat sailing on its own accord.

Before he can sink into despair, he can feel the faintest of brushes of a familiar mind against his. Erik. He is closer to Erik now. He can feel him, however faint, but he can feel him. He isn’t dead. He is out there. And that means there is still hope.

The boat eventually finds its landing place in a faraway place Charles wouldn’t know how to find on a map, if he even had one with him. He wanders through the woods aimlessly until he stumbles upon a house guarded by a blue beast. Though Charles can tell at once that the beast is also a man, is someone like him and Erik.

As it turns out, Hank and Raven have taken refuge in this cottage after an experiment of his gone wrong. He worked on a way to rid himself of the abnormal appearance of his feet, only to amplify the effect and turn into a beast whenever angered or in danger. Raven possesses similar powers, able to change appearance at will. The two have since lost hope in humankind to ever accept them. They have also heard of the Snow Queen who seemingly wants to rally against humans.

Raven offers Charles to stay with them, but he kindly refuses. He has to find Erik, he has to bring him back home. Hank offers to accompany him, but Charles also refuses that offer, because he knows that finding Erik is his responsibility alone.

“But you will always be welcome in my home, as you welcomed me into yours. Together, we may be able to change the face of the world, not today, not tomorrow, but so long we haven’t given up, the chance is still there that the day will come.”

Better equipped for the cold awaiting him further up north thanks to Raven and Hank, Charles continues his quest to the castle made of ice. He lets himself be guided by the fragments of memories the Queen could not take away from Erik even with her second kiss. Because even if she stripped Erik of his memories, he is still there. Charles can still sense his light, and that will guide him to his best friend, no doubt.

But when he reaches the place he can feel Erik’s mind the strongest, he finds nothing but a frozen lake. No castle. Nothing except for ice and snow. Exhausted and discouraged, he collapses onto the ice, calling out to Erik, though he knows he can’t hear him.

Or can he?

When he opens his eyes again, Charles finds himself near a warm hearth inside a small cabin. A grumpy man greets him, putting on more wood for the fire. The man’s name is Logan, and for some strange reason, he seems to know Charles, even though Charles doesn’t know him. Even stranger so, he can’t sense the man’s mind, although he is sitting right next to him.

“That was by your own design.”

“I didn’t ever meet you.”

“Not in this world, but in the world I came from.”

“Another world?”

“You can read minds, and made it all this way to here alive. Don’t act as though this was the strangest thing you’ve heard or seen thus far.”

Logan begins to recall his time “on the other side of the mirror”. The Snow Queen with the aid of the mirror image of Erik, nearly succeeded in destroying all good in their world by completing a mirror that had burst into a billion pieces.

“The devil’s work if you asked me. But no one knows who’s made the mirror. I just know what it did to my friends. It made them angry, sad, cold. Until they saw no good in the world anymore and fell into despair. A world without hope… is really without hope. You were right about that all along.”

In a last effort to save their world, Charles with the aid of his pupils and Logan set out to fight the Snow Queen, a woman with special abilities much like Charles’s. But with Erik’s aid of completing the frame to hold the mirror in its place, their efforts were near in vain.

“I watched my friends turn to snow. I watched them fade away. Kitty and you came up with a way for me to cross the threshold to the other world, this world here. I heal fast.  I don’t get killed… so I took a shard of the mirror with me.”

He shows a scar on his abdomen. “The Snow Queen wants to complete the mirror in this world because she can’t complete it in the other. Because I have the last piece. You managed to hide me from her eyes. Only if I were to face her would she recognize me.”

“But she can complete the mirror in this world, if Erik sets the frame.”

“Yes, because the other me, the one belonging to this world… he is asleep, if you will, out of reach. And even if not, the moment I faced her and tried to break the mirror like I did last time… it would mean the end of all good in this world. I no longer have the claws to cut it. I had to leave those, too.”

“So there is no hope?”

“There is always hope. At least so long you don’t give up. If unleash your mind, if you let your abilities out, which I know you’ve learned to keep in check over the years, you will possess a power even greater than hers. You are the only hope we’ve got left. So you better make this work, or else I will be very angry with you.”

“But I can’t even find the castle.”

“Because you’ve only looked at it from one side.”

It is then that Charles understands what he has to do. He goes back to the frozen lake and cuts a hole into the ice. He dives into the dark waters below, and once again lets himself be guided by the faint light at the end of it, Erik.

When he lifts his head above the water again, he finds himself in the Snow Queen’s castle. Charles knows now that he has to do whatever it takes not just to save Erik, but everyone else who dares to put hope in him. Even if that means going to the edge of the world and further still. But will he succeed? Or will eternal winter be the end of all hope?

-------------------------------------------------------

Author’s Note: Here’s my little Christmas gift to a fandom that is also very much a gift. Happy holidays and much love!

[wordofrecall]

character playlists: ori

so. let’s do this. my playlists are long and scattered, but they make me happy, so i might as well share them and the thoughts behind song choices. so. here’s some songs for runaway knights & wannabe witches, and what have you.

something holy - childhood & riches & wonders

pearl diver - mitski - oh hunter, if you didn’t want the beautiful so badly, perhaps you would’ve found it in your spirit singing softly - look. it's on the nose, considering that her title is "the pearl hunter," but also, like, that rules. this is a song for wren, i think; ori in the present reflecting on her mother and the similarities between them.

icicles - the scary jokes - i can only be forgiven if i’m giving myself up to you on a silver serving tray / must i bare myself to the stabbing of your knife & gnashing teeth while our lovely company appears so entertained? - aaand a song for childhood. 99% of ori's socialization came from her parents having important guests over, so. uh. yeah. show off your reclusive child prodigy like a pageant whenever you have the opportunity. she probably won't grow to loathe you.

life: the cruel interlude (on god) - kilo kish - why do i dare believe in me when i bleed? - questioning was. always a big thing for ori. i don't think she ever believed that the mirzha was god, and i known that she never truster her father's patron, but. in her studies, in her passions, there's always this tiny sense of desperation for something to have faith in something. not herself.

bluejays & cardinals - the mountain goats - the stars come out of hiding for you, & i would too - there is. a lot, in ori's relationship with her brother. she was the favorite child, yeah, the one destined for great things in spite of her... troubles. but he never had those troubles! she didn't, doesn't understand how he went through life so unafraid. there's envy there. i also think that the line i quoted is terribly true, like, canonically. because. she sure did do that stupid shit.

be calm - fun. - take it from me, i’ve been there a thousand times--you hate your pulse because it thinks you’re still alive! - sometimes you have intense social phobia. and that's okay!

country death song - violent femmes - kiss your mother goodnight & remember that God saves, kiss your mother goodnight & remember that God saves - i think andrei is a much less pitiable or even sympathetic man than the narrator of this song, but. like. it's a country song about a father killing his daughter while preaching godliness. i had to.

i’m all bloody inside - liam lynch - inside me, well, it’s dark & gross as hell, i’m not a pretty sight - the family business!

the hazards of love 3 (revenge!) - the decemberists - but father, don’t you fear, your children are all here - fantasies. part of the fantasy is imagining a world where she doesn't feel terrible about the thought.

shankill butchers - sarah jarosz - they used to be just like me & you, they used to be sweet little boys - "blood hunters are ghost stories." "and also, they're fucking terrible. violent, cruel, zealous. the worst."

sparrow - st. vincent - & no eyes are on the sparrow, eyes are on the sparrow, how could that be the case? the lark keeps whistling his number, silly little number, as if he isn't prey - pity for the boy. sort of retrospective, but it's a thought that's been there since she was a child.

something burning - rituals & fire & running

starchild - ghost quartet - but i will transcend & vomit this loser out of me; i will become the next big thing, i will light myself on fire - maybe she is some kind of angel? bursting with radiance and terrifying to look upon.

arsonist’s lullabye - hozier - don’t you ever tame your demons, always keep them on a leash / when i was sixteen, my senses fooled me - oooor maybe she is a sixteen year-old who is having a panic attack and setting everything in sight on fire by accident.

blood - my chemical romance - i’m the kind of human wreckage that you love! - so she's broken.

girl anachronism - the dresden dolls - it’s not the way i’m meant to be, it’s just the way the operation made me - so she's failed and she's broken and she's sick, and there's no time to fucking think.

when the chips are down - anais mitchell - cast your eyes to heaven, you’ll get a knife in the back. - so she does what her mother did before her, and she runs from that which she has always known.

body terror song - ajj - i’m so sorry that you have to have a body / one that will hurt you, & be the subject of so much of your fear - feelings on being built Wrong; feelings on your mind's undue control upon your body.

in corolla - the mountain goats - & no one was gonna come & get me, there wasn't anybody gonna know, even though i leave a trail of burnt things in my wake every single place i go - very good as an ori song in general but this is her justification to herself in the water. under the docks, she says this to herself.

the harrowed & the haunted - the decemberists - will i be so brave? - just to get that oceanic vibe up.

luna - the mountain goats - rise through the flames & end again in flames at last - an inexplicable feeling.

unwhere - reeder - a song for leaving what you've always known.

something lonely - years & woods & dreaming

runs in the family - amanda palmer - run from their pity, from responsibility, run from the country & run from the city, i can run from the law, i can run from myself, i can run for my life, i can run into debt, i can run from it all, i can run 'till I'm gone - she is broken and all she can think to do is get as far away as possible

panic attack - liza anne - i hate that i can be seen like this

black eyes - david wirsig - my hammering heart hears the voices of spirits that tempt us, the scorn that they’ve spoken

for the departed - shayfer james - they will bury me alive, but i’m not inclined to care; i am too far gone now

hurt - johnny cash - everyone i know goes away in the end; you can have it all, my empire of dirt

my body’s made of crushed little stars - mitski - i work better under a deadline! i work better under a deadline!

blood in the cut - k. flay - guess i’m contagious; it’d be safest if you ran--fuck, that’s what they all just end up doing in the end

little pistol - mother mother - i think i might be scared of the world & the way it makes you feel afraid & how it gets in the way

villains pt. 1 - emma blackery - built to create, designed to destroy

the beer - kimya dawson - & the christians gave me comic books as if i would be scared of burning in hell while i was already there [...] i tried to scream fuck you but blood was pouring out my mouth

something safe - family & finding it & fighting together

haunted house - sir babygirl - i’m running just to hide & i’m hiding just to breathe & around every corner is the same night on repeat

your heart is a muscle the size of your fist - ramshackle glory - i love you & you make me glad to be alive; i promise that i’m gonna pay you back / you always know how funny everything is, even when i’m so serious that it’s gonna be the death of me

medicines - the taxpayers - o, but our rotting corpses lying there soon began to leak & grow these lesions that all smelled just like a rose / & all the blood & guts inside us germinated into timeless pages stained with lines of lovely prose

autoclave - the mountain goats - i am this great unstable mass of blood & foam

alligator skin boots - mccafferty - i’m cool to the touch, leap to my death, i’ll die for you all, i’ll die for my friends, it goes like this

100 years - florence + the machine - lord, don’t let me break this, let me hold it lightly, give me arms to pray with instead of ones that hold too tightly

tomorrow will be kinder - the secret sisters - but i feel warmth on my skin, the stars have all aligned

armour - rae spoon - you know i placed was to build a life for you

amy aka spent gladiator 1 - the mountain goats - play with matches if you think you need to play with matches; seek out the hidden places where the fire burns hot & bright / find where the heat’s unbearable & stay there if you have to--don’t hurt anybody on your way up to the light, and stay alive

curses - the crane wives - won’t you stay with me, my darling, when my walls start burning down?

something daring - islands & visions & loss

jane’s dream - janelle monáe

beekeeper - keaton henson - hear me, o woman that has gone astray, gone astray

fire - kimya dawson - i’m reading books about how they’re corrupt [...] as long as i’m burning, i’ll keep on yearning to save the world, not sure how, but i’m learning

cosmic hero - car seat headrest - i love you, but i can’t stand the touch, & of course i’m alright with death

turn the lights off - tally hall - everbody likes to get taken for turns to see how bright the fire inside of us burns [...] should be stronger, books abandoned

eat you alive - the oh hellos - child, i’m afraid for your soul; these things that you’re after, they can’t be controlled

cry for judas - the mountain goats - hallucinate a shady grove where judas went to die

o death - monica martin - no wealth, no land, no silver, no gold, nothing satisfies me but your soul

blood of angels - brown bird - and i would wage my soul to bet that there ain’t no one throwing lightning anyhow

the universe is going to catch you - the antlers - the arms of the universe kept you from falling [...] those arms did not come back

a burning hill - mitski - i am the fire & i am the forest & i am the witness watching it / i stand in the valley watching it

something terrifying - conversations & selfhood & divination

the lamb - dessa - but blood is blood, & what’s done is done; blood is blood, & its burden is a beast

going invisible 2 - the mountain goats - i’m gonna burn it all down today & sweep all the ashes away

the lion’s roar - first aid kit - she plays a tune for those who wish to overlook the fact that they’ve been blindly deceived by those who preach & pray & teach, but she falls short & the night explodes in laughter

the villain i appear to be - connor spiotto - even if you can’t see the good inside me, i don’t have the time to tell you why i do the things that i do, just please hold on & soon you’ll seem

up the wolves - the mountain goats - there’s bound to be a ghost at the back of closet, no matter where you live; there’ll be a few things, maybe several things that you’re gonna find really difficult to forgive

thursday girl - mitski - glory, glory, glory to the night that shows me what i am

at the bottom of everything - bright eyes - we must take all of the medicines to expensive now to sel; set fire to the preacher who is promising us hell

everybody does - julien baker - i know i’m a pile of filthy wreckage you will wish you’d never touched, but you’re gonna run when you find out who i am

tongues & teeth - the crane wives - i know that you mean so well, but i am not a vessel for your good intent 

a pearl - mitski - you’re growing tired of me and all the things i don’t talk about / sorry, i don’t want your touch--it’s not that i don’t want you

[kewltie]

"One year," Katsuki says, laying down the groundwork for Izuku’s existence here. "Give me a year of your life and time. Attend to my 'ailing'," he makes a face, "mother as her son-in-law, played up the devoted spouse, and keep up the appearance of a noble marchioness of the Bakugou House.”

"And then?" Izuku presses, cocking his head.

"We'll annul our marriage after that," he finishes.

"I see," Izuku answers, looking down at his lap momentarily. He lets out a shaky exhale, curls a fist in his lap and inhales, drawing from a deep reservoir of strength five years in the making. Steeling himself, he looks up at his husband and smiles.

It’s warmth, considerate, but the words that come out are full of bite and thorns. "And what do I get out of it?"

Katsuki narrow his eyes. "Your reputation as an opportunist leech truly precedes you."

"Indeed our marriage has been very good to me." Izuku's smile broadens, and sharpens with intent. "But you haven't been kind to me, milord."  His head dip slightly, chest tightening at the uncomfortable truth of those words that he had tucked deep in the recess of his heart. "You'd cast me side for five years, only to now called me back to Tokyo to do you a favor. That isn't favorable to me, now is it? Is the Bakugou’s name this selfish?"

Katsuki grimaces, bristling with subdued contempt. "What the fuck do you want then?"

Izuku straightens his shoulder, eyes forward as solemn greens clashes against fierce reds. "A husband," he answers, voice not wavering despite the cacophony in his heart. "I came to Tokyo as a married man and I will not leave it husbandless.” His plan is finally set into motion, watering the seed that Lady Mitsuki had sown earlier with her false ailment. They both know there’s no truth to his mother-in-law’s illness, but played her game anyway in order to bring Izuku back to appease her. Mitsuki-san is truly kind to him.  "That is an embarrassment that would destroy my name and family."

Katsuki slams his fist against the table, jolting the tea set from their stationary position. "You want me to find you a new husband while you play up the good spouse to me when you’re here? Have you gone completely mad?!" he accuses.

Izuku smiles thinly. "Only slightly."

Mad enough to be still hopelessly, devotedly in love with the very same man who'd not only neglected him, but left him hung dried in the countryside as rumors and lies smeared the last visage of Izuku's good reputation. He'd endured a lifetime of misery in just five years. All of it for a man who had only ever cut Izuku's soft malleable heart on his sharp edges. Bakugou Katsuki is an open wound on his heart, and he will tears himself apart to fix it. If it mean Katsuki will be thinking the worst of him, a dishonest gold-digger, then fine so be it.

"Fine," Katsuki spits out. "I'll go with your ridiculous scheme." He glares at Izuku, eyes alight with breathtaking fire that seers him to the core but warms him all the same. "But I will not have you blacken the Bakugou's name with your shameless actions."

Izuku's body stiffens. "And that is?"

"Spreading your legs for any available alphas in the near vicinity," Katsuki seethes.

It'd only been a few years, but how could he forget that Katsuki can gut him completely with just a few simple sharpened words; his chest hallows out. Nails digging into his palm enough to hurt, Izuku's lips curve upward into cold smile. "I'll definitely make sure to only throw myself at the most capable ones who deserve to take up with a former marchioness of the Bakugou household lest I bring dishonor upon you."

Katsuki's eyes flashes in anger. "You—!" he starts, rising from his seat. Hands balling at his side as his tall bulky figure towers over Izuku’s slender form, but Izuku is a fortress built from the carcass of his sixteen years old heartbroken younger self and he will not be unmade here.

"Will you raise your hand at me, my lord?" Izuku asks icily, unafraid and unmoved.

Katsuki reels back his words. Chastened and shamed, he looks away. "I would never stooped so low to strike a defenseless person," he says, quiet and severe, lacking that earlier intensity.

"I know," Izuku answers gravely. He knows. He'd always known. Katsuki may have hurt him deeply, cut him up with his words and made him feel unwanted with his actions but he'd never laid a single intentful hands on Izuku. Despite his colorful temperament, Katsuki is an honorable man.

A filial son, a noble and courageous soldier for the Japanese Empire, a respectful aristocrat of the Tokyo's high society, a groomed heir to the ducal of Musutafu, and a handsome and brilliant young man who stole Izuku's heart at ten. For all his roughness, he shines above all.

It's simultaneously a relief and unfair, because it would have been easier if he was just a cruel brute of man, then Izuku wouldn't be so helplessly bound to him even after all these years. Don't be kind to me, he thinks in dismay, or I'll just fall even more deeply.

Katsuki's hand card through his blond hair roughly. "You always did know how to get right under my skin," he mutters with an annoyed huff. "That hasn't change it seems."

Izuku's eyes flicker to Katsuki's face incredulously. "M-My lord?" His heart races with a flash of hope.

Katsuki walks around the table and approaches Izuku like a hunter would cornering his prey. He presses both hands on either side of Izuku's head against the backrest of his chair, caging him between his arms. "You're going to drive me absolutely crazy," he says, like it's confession of a guilty man on deathrow.

Izuku's eyes widen at his words.

"It's a mistake to bring you back here," Katsuki continues, brows pinched tight. He doesn't touch Izuku, but the intensity of his gaze burns every inch of Izuku's skin. Like invisible hands pawing all over him, leaving the residue of his touch on him. "You're bad for me."

Indiscriminate power and strength exudes from him. Alpha. Alpha, it all screams. Izuku's alpha. They never bonded properly, Katsuki always been his and he’s Katsuki’s. He breathes. Long and heady as his head is fill with a feverish pitch of Katsuki's scent clinging to his body. Such dominate alpha's authority thrown over him like a thick fog.

Izuku draws up enough will to pinch his thigh. The pain is just enough to break the spell and he cracks a sliver of a well-polished smile. "Good, I would hope I'm just as bad for you as you are for me, my lord," he says, reaching a hand out to touch Katsuki's cheek.

It's just shy of a touch, but Katsuki stumbles backward as though he'd struck him. And maybe he did. Izuku had put all his intents, frustration, and all-consuming wants in that single fleeting touch; he hopes it burn him as it did Izuku.

It's mean, but Katsuki deserves it.

Katsuki shakes himself out of it, but the impression of Izuku's touch is all there. In the air. Clinging to his skin. Sinking deep under his defenses. Katsuk plays to win, but Izuku is in it for the long haul. There is no retreat for him. Only forward or death. He aims to conquer.

For him there is no other Bakugou Katsuki in the world and Izuku won't rest till he has him on his knees. "I guess that make us quite a pair then," he muses as Katsuki scolds at him.

A year. It's doable. He'll make Katsuki fall so hard that he’ll never consider anyone else but Izuku. Yes. This is a war as if there was any doubt. Izuku’s heart is on the line and he has no intention of losing.

[ramblingrachell]

Have You Read This? The Election of 2020

Like many of us, I watched Hamilton on July 4th, 2020 – our nation’s birthday. I met the day with mixed emotions as the spirit and character of our nation as of late did not seem appropriate to celebrate.

As I watched the story about many of the nation’s founding fathers and first leaders unfold, I was struck by the parts of their personal trials and tribulations that went beyond their contribution to the nation. Hamilton was the first politician to be involved in a sex scandal; Layfette – an immigrant, unafraid to step in and become America’s favorite fighting Frenchmen; Washington – a slave owner willing to admit “it probable that I may have committed many errors;” Jefferson – gained wealth profiting from the work of slaves, one of which he fathered six children with after making her his mistress. Burr – the untried murderer of Alexander Hamilton, whom he killed while still holding office as the third Vice President of the United States. In short, a hot mess of moral contradictions. I have been listening to the Hamilton soundtrack ever since my first viewing on July 4th, and realized a number of lines in various songs could be strung together to reflect my perception (key word: my) of the current political climate. Over the last week or so, I finally sat down to string all of those poignant lines together (with a few liberties for relevant context), a lyrical short story I have dubbed, The Election of 2020 (seen further down, further down). The beauty of democracy that is reborn during election seasons is our ability to get a fresh start, gain new perspectives, correct past wrongs, and continually better this land of the free for generations to come. I saw a quote recently that described voting as not so much like trying to find the perfect partner for marriage, but rather like using a bus for public transport. Voting is a map of bus routes that you must choose from in order to get from point A to point B. There may not be one specific bus that is going to your exact destination, but that doesn’t mean you stay at home and give up on travel entirely. Voting is not about waiting for “the one” candidate who is absolutely perfect. Instead, you choose to get on the bus that gets you closest to where you want to be. I know and love many republicans and democrats that have used the privilege of voting to get us all closer to where we want the nation to be. To me, where we are right now does not seem to fit under either traditional party umbrella – no, it’s much more like an umbrella that has been turned inside out and torn apart by a calculated hurricane of divisive and selfish endeavors. Perhaps more than ever before, this is the time to reassess our voting bus routes that will get us from point A to point B. Are we moving from indifference to tolerance? Hate to love? Despair to hope? Chaos to consistency? Negligence to protection? Moreover, before you get on your bus of choice, remember the route is designed to get the whole of our nation where we want it to be. Not just for me and not just for you. For all of US – as in, all of the United States. We will never all agree, I know this, but in spite of these disagreements, I am reminded of the hope that comes from the story of Hamilton. Even 244 years into this nation’s story, despite many dramatic peaks and valleys, the journey to our shared, happily ever after epilogue lives on. It lives on in me, in you, and in every vote cast to get us where we want to be. Regardless of how your vote is cast, the courage to reexamine your route and get on that bus… well, that would be enough.

The Election of 2020

“America, you great unfinished symphony A place where even orphan immigrants Can leave their fingerprints and rise up We’re running out of time Eyes up Time's up Wise up He's not the choice I would have gone with History will prove him wrong Winning was easy for him Governing's harder Welcome, folks, to a dysfunctional administration! He stands only for himself It's what he does I can't apologize because it's true Have it all, lose it all The President is gonna bring the nation to the brink He’s the villain in our history Frankly, it's a little disquieting that so many are blind to this reality He doesn’t have an ounce of regret He accumulates debt, he accumulates power Yet in our hour of need, he forgets Ardently abuses his post It's hard to listen to him with a straight face Watching the tension grow He cannot be left alone to his devices Indecisive, from crisis to crisis Stay alive 'til this horror show is past We're gonna fly a lot of flags half-mast Chaos and bloodshed already haunt us How many died because he was inexperienced and ruinous? We're too fragile to start another fight Where do we draw the line? Someone oughta remind him We're running a real nation Him and his words, obsessed with his own legacy His sentences border on senseless And he is paranoid in every paragraph How they perceive him Let future historians wonder How he tore so much apart And watched it all burn I wish I could say what was happening in his brain He's not very forthcoming on any particular stances Ask him a question: he glances off, he obfuscates, he dances I will not equivocate on my opinion I didn't say anything that wasn't true His father's a scoundrel, and so, it seems, is this dude He is uniquely situated by virtue of his position Though 'virtue' is not a word I’d apply to this situation He seeks financial gain, straying from his sacred mission And the evidence suggests he’s engaged in speculation Why does he assume he’s the smartest in the room? Soon that attitude will be his doom He knows nothing of loyalty Smells like new money, dresses like fake royalty Desperate to rise above his station Everything he does betrays the ideals of our nation See how he lies Look at his eyes Follow the scent of his enterprise If we don't stop him, we aid and abet it Watching him grabbin' at power and kissin' it Somebody has to stand up to his mouth What do we stall for?  If we stand for nothing, what'll we fall for?

Be careful with that one He will do what it takes to survive No one knows who he is or what he does His pride will be the death of us all God, we hope he’s satisfied This man has poisoned our political pursuits Destroyed our reputation I can almost see the headline, his “career” is done Ya best go run back where ya come from! This dude is out! You ever see somebody ruin their own life? History obliterates In every picture it paints It paints him and all of his mistakes It's him against us, the world will never be the same He better get ready for the moment of adrenaline Try not to crack under the stress When he finally faces his opponent They’ve fought on like seventy-five different fronts He smacks others in the press and doesn’t print retractions We're breaking down like fractions But when all is said and all is done I have beliefs, he has none Gotta get us out of the mess he’s got us in There’s a reason no one trusts him No one knows what he believes I get no satisfaction witnessing his fits of passion The way he primps and preens and dresses like the pits of fashion Our poorest citizens, our farmers, live ration to ration As Wall Street robs 'em blind in search of chips to cash in He’s askin' for someone to bring him to task While we were all watching, he got Washington in his pocket But the sun comes up And the world still spins I hear wailing in the streets There is suffering too terrible to name This is not a moment, it's a movement Are we a nation of states? What's the state of our nation? The issue on the table: We are engaged in a battle for our nation's very soul I’m past patiently waitin'. Let’s passionately smash every expectation For the first time, I’m thinkin' past tomorrow. We're gonna rise up - time to take a shot This nation better rise up Raise a glass to freedom Something they can never take away No matter what he tells us Look around at how lucky we are to be alive right now But we'll never be truly free Until those in bondage have the same rights as you and me Seek out injustice in the world and correct it Life doesn't discriminate Between the sinners And the saints It takes and it takes and it takes And we keep living anyway We laugh and we cry And we break But can l be real for a second? For just a millisecond? We gotta make an all-out stand Get him out of power So he holds no office We are a powder keg about to explode We gotta stop 'em and rob 'em of his advantages Let's take a stand with the stamina God has granted us We pick and choose our battles and places to take a stand We will fight for this land Summon all the courage that’s required Be a part of the narrative The story they will write someday How we emerged victorious Leaving the battlefield waving Betsy Ross' flag higher No one has more resilience Let’s move under cover and move as one We have one shot to live another day Don’t throw away this shot We will fight up close, seize the moment and stay in it And so the American experiment begins again We bleed and fight for the next generation We'll make it right for them If we lay a strong enough foundation We'll pass it on to them, we'll give the world to them For a strong central democracy We may never all agree, but There's only one man and woman Who can give us a command so we can rise up Throwing verbal rocks at his mediocrities What do you stall for? What was it all for? We studied and we fought For the notion of a nation we now get to rebuild Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness We fought for these ideals; we shouldn't settle for less I don't pretend to know All the challenges we’re facing But this once, take a stand with pride This is not the time to stand to the side Stand with us in the land of the free To get the people that we need to lead We need the votes We need bold strokes When there’s skin in the game, stay in the game We don't get a win unless we play in the game We may get love for it We may get hate for it We get nothing if we wait for it I wanna build something that's gonna outlive me I dream of a brand new start I want real leaders that can save the day We won't be invisible We won't be denied If we get this right The nation can start to move on It outlives us when we’re gone We are the one thing in life we can control We are inimitable, true originals We can’t stand still Or lie in wait We don't wanna fight, but We won't apologize for doing what's right Together we can turn the tide If we manage to get this right They'll surrender by early light We have no control Who lives, who dies, who tells our story But I know that we can win I know that greatness lies within us But remember from here on in History has its eyes on me and History has its eyes on you”

(All Lyric Credits: Hamilton: An America Musical. Performances by Lin-Manuel Miranda, Daveed Diggs, Renée Elise Goldsberry, Jonathan Groff, Christopher Jackson, Jasmine Cephas Jones, Leslie Odom Jr., Okieriete Onaodowan, Anthony Ramos  Phillipa Soo, and Original Cast Company. Atlantic Records, 2015.)