#whats your code of ethics

[barewiththemoon]

They call it darkness

This cave

I wonder if it is

Or is it just perspectives

Is it just judgment

For I,

I —

Have called this darkness

Home.

It brings me warmth

A fireplace of love.

Heating up every cold hearted etch

That tries to carve out my love.

It brings my light.

A beacon unbearable as any.

Could you see the lighthouse before you called it darkness

Could you see a safe haven before you called it

Well it doesn't matter anymore

Because you've come to me

Not I you.

As you always do.

A bare does not ask to be s wolf

A lion does not ask to be a tiger

S bird does not ask to eat the prey

No! It's more instinctual than you can think of '' fooled

We have all been.

Don't believe me.

Then check the Bear necessities within.

[myghostmonument]

.

[pyrosomatic-metamorphosis]

once again furious at how AI has been implemented and fucking. hyped up and goddamn bullshit. the way its being used to steal creative works and fuck with artists and create porn of real people is fucking NASTY. but god fucking damnit it could be so useful. fucking. ai voice reader for my stupid incomprehensible textbooks where the voice isn't datamined against the person's will. ai npcs that didn't steal their fucking data. ai routine builders that can learn a person's typical day and preferences and help build checklists for people who struggle w tasks. they could be SO USEFUL. but no. no. we can't have useful things. improving lives??? nahhhhhh we've gotta make Pretty Pictures and Steal Fucking Everything to do it

[hybbat]

You know a world where your ability to carry something is determined by quantity rather than size or weight is very easy to accept in a video game, because of mechanical convenience, but would probably be so strange in a story in any other medium, and I think a few more books and shows could stand to get a little funkier with the fundamentals of their reality like that.

[veganagenda]

fascinating new argument has entered the animal rights field: "it's okay to breed animals for a specific human-related purpose over a long period of time and then continue exploit their bodies for that purpose even when they are no longer obligated to because they enjoy fulfilling that purpose. because we bred them to enjoy it"

Not to sound like I was raised by protestants, but I think those kids who argue that it's animal abuse to put working dog breeds to work doing the tasks they were bred and born for have simply genuinely never encountered the concept that they, too, could be genuinely happier if they could do work they found wortwhile and enjoyable. Like engaging in useful and constructive activities might genuinely make life better than a life of doing absolutely nothing because nobody's making you do anything.

[andhumanslovedstories]

A code status is what you want the hospital to do if your heart or breathing stops, and we've got two basic options: full code which means we do EVERYTHING and Do Not Resuscitate or DNR which means we do less than everything. There's like little add-ons like intubated or not intubated, or blood products or no blood products, but that's basic gist of it. Do you want us to try everything we can to save your life or if your heart stops, is that it? And then we take that information and put it in your chart and make it very prominent in case we need to find it quickly in an emergency. Jane Doe, 72 years old, DNR. John Whatsisname, 49 years old, full code. Like that.

Anyway I'd like to propose a third code status that we'll call "DNR!!!" This is when you not only don't want heroic measures to extend your life, you are so excited to die. I thought of this recently when getting report on a patient, and the day nurse talking to me was like, "Alice Smith, 80 years old, DNR and she will tell you that herself." And I was like, "I don't think code status is gonna come up organically," and the nurse was like, "It won't, but she'll tell you anyway." And then I introduced myself to the patient, and like three minutes in as we're talking about pain meds, she goes, "and by the way, when I'm dead, I'm DEAD. Don't be bringing me back! Every woman in my family has lived past 90, and I'm here to break that tradition! NO one needs to live that long, and I certainly don't, and frankly it's indecent for me to have made it this far. God willing the reaper will come for me any day now. I would never take actions to make him come sooner, but I'm not moving that fast and he is DAWDLING. Disgusting. No work ethic these days. And don't bother with a grave, just chuck me out the window and let the birds at me."

And I'm like "so is that a no to the tylenol"

And she was like "oh no, I'd love some tylenol and a warm blanket too. Now look at me. I've done everything I could possibly want to do in this world and quite a few things I didn't want to do, and personally I don't think I should have to keep doing things. I'd also love a cranberry juice."

Anyway. DNR!! I'm sorry to say she made it through the night completely unscathed.

[xyywrites]

The Psychology of Morally Grey Characters: What Makes Them Tick

What Makes a Character Morally Grey?

They’re not fully good or evil. Instead, they operate in the messy middle, where ethics clash with desires, survival, or flawed logic.

They’re justifiable but not excusable. Readers might understand their motives but can’t always condone their actions.

The Psychology Behind Morally Grey Characters

1. They Operate Based on Personal Morality

Grey characters don’t lack morals—they just don’t align with societal norms. They may follow their own code of ethics, which can feel justified to them but questionable to others.

Walter White (Breaking Bad): His descent into crime stems from wanting to provide for his family. His personal moral code excuses his actions, even as they spiral into destruction.

2. Their Actions Stem from Trauma or Desperation

Morally grey characters often carry scars—trauma, loss, or desperation drive them into morally ambiguous territory.

Zuko (Avatar: The Last Airbender): His quest to capture the Avatar is fueled by years of familial abuse and a desperate desire for his father’s approval. His actions are harmful, but his pain is undeniable. 

3. They Prioritize Their Goals Above Morality

A morally grey character may believe the ends justify the means. They’re willing to cross lines for what they see as a greater good—or personal ambition.

Kaz Brekker (Six of Crows): He’ll lie, steal, and kill to protect his crew and achieve his goals. 

4. They Live in Shades of Contradiction

Humans are contradictory, and morally grey characters embrace this truth. They can be kind one moment and ruthless the next, depending on their circumstances.

5. They Force Readers to Question Their Own Morality

The best morally grey characters don’t just act—they make readers uncomfortable. They challenge black-and-white thinking and force readers to empathize with the unthinkable.

Thanos (Marvel Cinematic Universe): His belief in sacrificing half the universe for survival sparks fierce debates about utilitarianism versus morality.

Tips for Writing Morally Grey Characters

1. Give Them a Relatable Core

Readers don’t need to agree with your character, but they need to understand them. Ground their actions in something universal—love, survival, revenge, or a desire for belonging.

2. Show Their Justifications

Grey characters don’t see themselves as villains. They often have strong internal logic that explains their choices, even if the world disagrees.

3. Make Them Likable in Unexpected Ways

Even the darkest characters should have moments of levity, charm, or vulnerability. These moments make readers root for them despite their flaws.

4. Give Them Moments of Humanity

Highlight their internal conflict or flashes of goodness to remind readers they’re human, not caricatures.

5. Show the Consequences of Their Actions

Grey characters rarely walk away unscathed. Their decisions should create fallout—relationships broken, guilt weighing on their conscience, or irreversible damage.

Examples of Morally Grey Characters in Fiction

1. Severus Snape (Harry Potter):

His cruelty toward Harry is undeniable, but his love for Lily adds layers of tragic complexity.

2. Victor Frankenstein (Frankenstein):

A brilliant scientist driven by ambition, Victor creates life but abandons his creature, sparking tragedy.

3. Thomas Shelby (Peaky Blinders):

A crime lord who manipulates, kills, and betrays, yet he fiercely protects his family and battles his inner demons.

4. Eleanor Shellstrop (The Good Place):

Selfish and manipulative, Eleanor starts as morally grey but evolves as she confronts her flaws and learns to do good.

Morally grey characters live in the space between right and wrong, where humanity is at its rawest and most interesting. By exploring their contradictions, vulnerabilities, and justifications, you can create characters that feel as real and complex as life itself.

[inky-duchess]

Fantasy Guide to Building A Culture

Culture is defined by a collection of morals, ethics, traditions, customs and behaviours shared by a group of people.

Hierarchy and Social Structures

Within every culture, there is a hierarchy. Hierarchies are an important part of any culture, usually do ingrained that one within the culture wouldn't even question it. Hierarchy can be established either by age, gender or wealth and could even determine roles within their society. Sometimes hierarchy can may be oppressive and rigid whilst other times, ranks can intermingle without trouble. You should consider how these different ranks interact with one another and whether there are any special gestures or acts of deference one must pay to those higher than them. For example, the Khasi people of Meghalaya (Northern India), are strictly matrillineal. Women run the households, inheritance runs through the female line, and the men of the culture typically defer to their mothers and wives. Here are a few questions to consider:

How is a leader determined within the culture as a whole and the family unit?

Is the culture matriarchal? Patriarchal? Or does gender even matter?

How would one recognise the different ranks?

How would one act around somebody higher ranking? How would somebody he expected to act around somebody lower ranking?

Can one move socially? If not, why? If so, how?

Traditions and Customs

Traditions are a staple in any culture. These can be gestures or living life a certain way or to the way a certain person should look. Traditions are a personal detail to culture, they are what make it important. Tradition can dictate how one should keep their home, run their family, take care of their appearance, act in public and even determine relationship. Tradition can also be a double edged sword. Traditions can also be restrictive and allow a culture to push away a former member if they do not adhere to them, eg Traditional expectations of chastity led to thousands of Irish women being imprisoned at the Magdelene Laundries. Customs could be anything from how one treats another, to how they greet someone.

How important is tradition?

What are some rituals your culture undertakes?

What are some traditional values in your world? Does it effect daily life?

Are there any traditions that determine one's status?

Values and Opinions

Values and Opinions are the bread and butter of any culture. This is the way your culture sees the world and how they approach different life hurdles. These may differ with other cultures and be considered odd to outsiders, what one culture may value another may not and what opinion another holds, one may not. There will be historical and traditional reasons to why these values and opinions are held. Cultures usually have a paragon to which they hold their members to, a list of characteristics that they expect one to if not adhere to then aspire to. The Yoruba people value honesty, hard work, courage and integrity. Here are some questions to consider?

How important are these ethics and core values? Could somebody be ostracised for not living up to them?

What are some morals that clash with other cultures?

What does your culture precieved to be right? Or wrong?

What are some opinions that are considered to be taboo in your culture? Why?

Dress Code

For many cultures, the way somebody dresses can be important. History and ethics can effect how one is meant to be dressed such as an expectation of chastity, can impose strict modesty. While other cultures, put more importance on details, the different sorts of clothes worn and when or what colour one might wear. The Palestinian people (من النهر إلى البحر ، قد يكونون أحرارا) denoted different family ties, marriage status and wealth by the embroidery and detailing on their thoub.

Are there traditional clothes for your world? Are they something somebody wears on a daily basis or just on occasion?

Are there any rules around what people can wear?

What would be considered formal dress? Casual dress?

What would happen if somebody wore the wrong clothes to an event?

Language

Language can also be ingrained as part of a Culture. It can be a specific way one speaks or a an entirely different language. For example, in the Southern States of America, one can engage in a sort of double talk, saying something that sounds sweet whilst delivering something pointed. Bless their heart. I have a post on creating your own language here.

Arts, Music and Craft

Many cultures are known for different styles of dance, their artwork and crafts. Art is a great part of culture, a way for people to express themselves and their culture in art form. Dance can be an integral part of culture, such as céilí dance in Ireland or the Polka in the Czech Republic. Handicrafts could also be important in culture, such as knitting in Scottish culture and Hebron glass in Palestine. Music is also close to culture, from traditional kinds of singing such as the White Voice in Ukraine and the playing of certain instruments such as the mvet.

Food and Diet

The way a culture prepares or intakes or treats certain foods are important to a culture. In some cultures, there is a diet yo adhere to, certain foods are completely banned. With Jewish culture, pork is prohibited along with fish such as sturgeon, along with shellfish and certain fowl. Meat must also be prepared in a certain way and animal byproducts such as dairy, must never be created or even eaten around this meat. This is known as kosher. The way one consumes food is also important to culture. In some cultures, only certain people may eat together. Some cultures place important on how food is eaten. In Nigerian culture, the oldest guests are served first usually the men before the women. In Japanese culture, one must say 'itadakimasu' (I recieve) before eating. Culture may also include fasting, periods of time one doesn't intake food for a specific reason.

What are some traditional dishes in your world?

What would be a basic diet for the common man?

What's considered a delicacy?

Is there a societal difference in diet? What are the factors that effect diet between classes?

Is there any influence from other cuisines? If not, why not? If so, to what extent?

What would a typical breakfast contain?

What meals are served during the day?

What's considered a comfort food or drink?

Are there any restrictions on who can eat what or when?

Are there any banned foods?

What stance does your world take on alcohol? Is it legal? Can anybody consume it?

Are there any dining customs? Are traditions?

Is there a difference in formal meals or casual meals? If so, what's involved?

Are there any gestures or actions unacceptable at the dinner table?

How are guests treated at meals? If they are given deference, how so?

[buckysfaveplum]

her weakness

summary: you’re an enhanced individual with strong abilities and one moral code- you only fight with them when your opponent is also enhanced. during the fight with john walker, that code gets broken when bucky is hurt

pairing: bucky barnes x female reader

word count: 3.5k

warnings: violence, blood, fighting, it’s a fight seen so yea expect things relating to that

a/n: i rewatched tfatws and this fight always makes me so worried for my bbs so yea this was born. I typed it up helllllla quick so I'm sorry if its trash, I'm not too proud of this one idk.

masterlist | send requests

Your feet followed closely behind Bucky as you approached the warehouse. Your limbs were stiff and your skin clammy. Your hand stayed firmly in Bucky’s grasp as you approached John Walker. Sam had tracked him to a storage warehouse near the square you had just witnessed brutality in.

He murdered him, in cold blood, with Steve’s shield. You couldn’t get the screams of the public out of your head, the sound of the vibranium as it slashed into the flagsmasher’s body. You would’ve thrown up if Bucky hadn’t pushed you behind him. You had seen much worse, much more gruesome violence in your line of work. But something about this was sickening, rotting away in your stomach as you tried to grapple with the truth that the shield your friend once carried with honor and pride was just used by an unhinged soldier who found joy in the worst parts of the job.

Bucky stayed ahead of you, following Sam as they entered the building. Your hand trembled in his vibranium grasp. His thumb gently brushed across the veins and bones of your hand, trying to bring you comfort before the scene he knew was about to play out.

As you walked into the large space, you saw him. He was too composed and stoic for what had just taken place. His tall and slender figure loomed as he casually walked up to you all, barely acknowledging Sam as he tried to get him to listen.

“Walker,” Sam started. The soldier brushed Sam’s stern tone off, hopefully delaying what he knew was coming.

“You guys should see a medic, you don’t look so good,” He said, walking past you.

“Stop, Walker,” Sam took a few steps closer, trying again to get him to focus.

Your jaw tightened as you watched the man pace erratically in front of you. He was muttering quietly before responding as if trying to convince himself what he was saying had any truth.

“What?” He asked, coming closer. “You saw what happened. You know what I had to do.”

Your grip on Bucky tightened, sensing Walker’s anger began to boil over. You knew a fight was coming, it always was. 

“I killed him because I had to! He killed Lemar!” Walker shouted, his arms waving now and revealing how off the deep end he had gone. 

You knew the moment you saw him in that fight. He stole the serum and took it for himself. This behavior just confirmed it. But the serum only enhanced what was already bubbling under the surface. The same John you meet on the highway. The same John who waltzed into the police station as if he had the authority or right to control Bucky and call him an ‘asset’. It was always there. 

“He didn’t kill Lemar, John.”

Bucky’s smooth and deep voice cut through the tension in the room. You felt his grip on your hand squeeze for a moment, making sure you were okay. He could always sense your anxiety in the field. Your powers made keeping your calm difficult. You would never use them in battle unless your opponent was enhanced as well. You were a skilled fighter and agent, you didn’t need them. And it didn’t always seem ethical. But keeping them at bay, in check, could prove difficult- especially in heightened situations such as this.

Walker scoffed at Bucky’s words, dismissing the truth like it was nothing.

“Don’t go down that road. Believe me, it doesn’t end well,” Bucky said.

“I’m not like you!” Walker’s voice was full of disgust and resentment. From the moment you met him, you could sense his quiet disdain for your best friend. Looking down his nose at him like he was some scum left over from Steve's life, something he’d always have to deal with. Yet at the same time, resentment. Jealousy over his power, control, and abilities in his enhanced body. As if that’s what made him an excellent fighter. Or a good person.

Your spare hand moved between Bucky’s shoulder blades, giving him a subtle and quiet support as you prepared.

“Listen, it was the heat of the battle, okay?” Sam said, taking a step closer to Walker. That shield danced in your vision, taunting you as he paced back and forth. “If you explain what happened, they may consider your record.”

Walker’s distress spread across his face, his brows furrowing and eyes scrunching as he tussled with Sam’s words.

“We don’t want anyone else to get hurt,” Sam said.

The warehouse went silent as Walker stared at the ground before him. Bucky gave you a soft, tight-lipped smile before begrudgingly dropping your hand. He slowly took a step towards the man, joining Sam.

“John…” Bucky said, calmly. 

“You gotta give me the shield, man,” Sam said.

That did it. You could feel the room shift that second.

A disturbing serene aura washed over Walker at that moment. Slowly, he lifted his gaze to you all. His eyes were dark, lacking a certain warmth and compassion you had grown so used to seeing through that blue cowl. A certain warmth that left when he hung up the shield.

“Oh…. so that’s what this is,” Walker said. “You almost got me.”

You could see his grip on the shield tighten, the leather straps twisting between his fingers.

“You made a mistake,” Sam said.

You slowly took a step forward, your hands flexing as you prepared for what was to come. Walker finally turned his gaze to you. His eyes roamed you up and down. You could’ve sworn you saw Bucky’s jaw clench, that familiar muscle tightening in distress. Walker smirked at you before glancing at Bucky. He could read the protectiveness radiating off of your supersoldier.

“You don’t wanna do this,” Walker said to him.

Bucky didn’t meet his gaze. His fists balled at his side, practically shaking with anger. He never took pleasure in a fight, every punch or kick felt like a necessity rather than enjoyment. But he couldn’t deny how much he desired to rip that shield from his grimy hands.

“Yeah we do,” Bucky said.

Sam lurched forward first, Bucky soon following suit. Your feet moved quickly, moving behind Walker as your friends attacked from the front. The man moved with a speed you had yet to see from him, a brute force you could only get from the serum.

With a harsh kick, Walker sent Sam flying away, leaving you and Bucky alone. You tried to knock Walker down from the back as Bucky grappled with the shield. As you sent a harsh kick into the back of Walker’s knees, he spun quickly and sent a jab into Bucky’s gut sending him backward in pain and knocking him off balance. Before you could back him up, Walker slammed a harsh punch into Bucky’s jaw. Your heart raced and your hands shook as you watched him drop to the ground. You sprung into action, pulling the shield back in your hands and keeping Walker from smashing it into Bucky’s face. Sam leaped in, kicking the shield up and drawing attention to him.

You slammed a kick into Walker’s back, sending him stumbling forward as Sam slashed at him with his wings. Bucky leaped up, his arm aiming to come down on the faux Captain America’s back hard but was ultimately blocked by the shield. 

You were growing frustrated. Walker never packed this much of a punch. The serum raged through his veins, lacing each kick and swing of the shield with force and hate. As you and Sam continued to trade blocks at Walker, Bucky attempted to pull him down but was quickly met with the shield swinging into the side of his face. Your legs shook. The longer this dragged out the more difficult you find keeping your emotions in check. The longer you watched your favorite person in the world become decorated with blood and bruises, the more your ethical code began to look like a suggestion. Walker deserved a swift blast to the face and more. But you held off. 

Walker slammed the shield into Sam’s back, sending him down. As your two friends recovered briefly, it was just you and him. You surged forward at the man, dodging as he swung at you. Being smaller than the two Avengers alongside you made it much easier to evade Walker’s sloppy attacks. You sent a firm kick into his chest followed by an uppercut into his chin. As he spun and tumbled, Bucky was back on his feet and meeting Walker with punches. Bucky’s attacks quickly led the pair into a tight spot, backing Walker up into a heavy piece of machinery. The pair spun in circles over the shield, yanking the vibranium disc back and forth and trading beatings in between. Sam quickly followed you over, diving in for aid, but quickly was sent flying back by Walker’s attacks. His body slammed to the ground with a grunt.

While Bucky worked, you glanced at Sam. He pushed himself to his feet slowly, preparing to dive back into the fight. In your moment of distraction, the fear and care for your dear friend overriding your common sense to keep fighting, you heard Walker’s voice pull you back. Bucky was trapped between the shield and a machine. You rushed over to help but it was far too late.

“Why are you making me do this?!” Before you could register what Walker was saying, you watched as Bucky went flying. 

Walker’s forceful swing of the shield sent him hurtling across the warehouse. Your body froze as if someone had filled your veins with cement. The dramatic scene Walker had created came to an end with Bucky’s body smashing into an electrified pole and crashing to the ground. The might of his impact snapped the pole in the middle, sparks cascaded from the steel and flooded onto the floors; leading your eyes to Bucky. 

“Bucky!” You screamed.

His body lay limp and splayed out on the cold dirty floors. His face was smushed into the cement. His limbs didn’t dare to move. Except for his vibranium arm, which twitched and spasmed under his body; blue and white sparks burst out from the plates adding to the horror.

Your breaths were heavy and shaky, your hands trembled at your sides as the vibrating blue of your powers began to spark at your fingertips; mirroring the sight of your best friend’s arm. The room was spinning, at least that’s what made sense to you. Your balance was unstable, your knees threatening to buckle at any moment. You turned to spare a look at Sam, begging him for permission. But he was already back on his feet and rushing towards Walker. 

“Go!” He shouted.

You had never been faster. Your abilities never gave you the gift of flight but in that moment they very well could have. Your legs became weak and your steps messy as you neared Bucky. You crashed to your knees beside him, pain radiated up your thighs from the impact but you couldn’t care. It couldn’t be worse than the expanding tight pain in your chest as you struggled to breathe.

Your hands quivered as they hovered over his body. With him lying so still you could finally take in the damage Walker had done to his face. Blood was splattered all over, deep purple and blue hues bloomed across his cheekbones, and a nasty split had opened on his lip. Worst of all, his nose was broken.

The sparks continued to burst from the plates of his arm, his hand jerking and spasming with an unsettling sound of grinding metal. Quickly, you placed your hands firmly on the vibranium. A deep blue beamed from under your palms, cascading the metallic golds and blacks of his arm in your glow. The excess electricity from the crash moved in waves through the arm up into your hands. You focused as all the veins in your body became electrified, an aqua glow shone through your skin as the energy you. Your once y/e/c eyes were quickly overtaken, the cool energy overriding your iris’ and leaving an intense indigo shine. With a sharp gasp and breath, you let go. His arm had stopped moving, now lying as still and motionless as he did. 

“Bucky,” you said, giving his damaged body a soft shake. “Bucky, wake up.”

He didn’t move, his face slack and limps heavy as you struggled to turn him to his back and off of his arm. Your hands rushed to his face, cupping his cheeks and holding him close as if you could shield him from more of John Walker’s savagery. If someone had the power to take your abilities and trade them for the ability to heal, you’d offer them anything they wished just for the potential to spare Bucky from his pain even for a moment. 

“Buck… come on wake up,” the fresh blood from his injuries spilled into your fingertips, the crimson caked into your cuticles and threatened not to leave.

“Plum, please,” His body twitched; your lungs finally filled with air. 

His breaths were labored but there, his chest rattled as he sucked in much-needed air. Your fingers moved to his neck, their shuddering finally stilling as you felt his pulse return to a firm and strong pattern.

The sounds of Sam’s grunts and Walker’s cries swiftly pulled your attention back to your friend. He was up in the air, a long metal cord pulling on the shield and attempting to free it from Walker’s venomous grasp. To no avail, as soon Sam was flung back to the floor and across the room. The shield clattered to the ground, equally laid between the two men. The smug and determined look on Walker’s face enraged you, the blue glow returning to your eyes. Sam glanced over at you before rushing for the shield. He needed you.

You turned back to Bucky, still unresponsive to your touches and voice. He was breathing, his pulse steady. Taking in the broken state of his body, his face battered and bloodied, you couldn’t hold back your rage any longer.

It was as if something had possessed you. Gently, you laid Bucky back to the ground, pressing a trembling kiss to his forehead.

“I’ll be right back,” you said, your voice monotone yet determined. The expressions of concern, fear, and horror that had played upon your face just moments ago were now gone. You were cold and still, as you rose to your feet and walked over to the two men fighting behind you.

Before Walker could grab the shield, a harsh blast of blue energy sent him flying back in the opposite direction. The man was studded, confused by how he could have been knocked down. He looked up to see you rushing towards him. You were steady in your movement, not running but with each step winding up for the next blow. Your hands were baked in a fierce glow of aqua as you channeled more energy through your fingertips. 

Walker scrambled to his feet, preparing for the offense. Before he could even take a step he was back on the ground with another blast from you. A loud cry fell from your lips as you slammed him down with force from your power. As you ran up to Walker, he quickly sent a firm hit to your jaw. You stumbled back, regaining your vision to see him coming at you. You jumped up, knees to your chest and feet pressing on his as you blasted him once again. 

He was on the ground with you towering over him. His face was coated in shades of black and blue, mirroring the face you were trembling over just seconds ago. Good, he deserved that and more.

You blasted him again as he struggled to crawl away. You followed him, hot on his trail as energy overflowed from your hands. The shield was long forgotten by you, only driven by your need for revenge. Bucky couldn’t even answer you, couldn’t move. He needed to pay.

Walker’s body slammed back into machinery as you surged more energy at him. He was done, hands shaking above him as he prepared for your next blow.

“We’re better than this right? Captain America doesn’t do this,” Walker said through his split lip and shaking jaw.

You scoffed; if only he had thought that way an hour ago. You wouldn’t be here. Bucky would be okay.

“Good thing I’m not Captain America,” you said. Walker shielded his face as you wound up your aim. Energy radiated from your fist up your forearm as you pulled it back to deliver one last shot.

“Y/n, stop!” Sam shouted.

Your blast was halted by a firm hand on your upper arm. You recognized the stillness and coolness that held onto your body. Turning you saw Bucky behind you. He was shaking as he stood, breaths labored and heavy, but there he was. Sam ran up behind the two of you, shield in hand as he looked at you. But all you could focus on was Bucky.

Bucky stepped forward, shaking his head softly as he lowered your arm. 

“This isn’t you, you don’t do this,” he said. Your nostrils flared as you breathed heavily, struggling to reel your rage back in. You glanced back at Walker who lay on the ground, glaring at you smugly. Your eyes shone brighter, your fists clenching as the glow intensified. 

“Hey,” Bucky said, taking your face and turning you to look back at him. “You’re not him.”

The energy overtaking your body began to fade as you relaxed under his firm touch. The uncontrollable blue glow began to fade back into your body, leaving you panting as you tried to calm your emotions. Bucky stood before you, vibranium hand stroking your own.

“You’re okay,” you said.

“I’m okay. Hey, hey, I’m okay. It’s over,” he said, pulling you away from the scene you had created. He walked you slowly back towards Sam, you shook in his grasp. Walker struggled to stand as he watched the three of you leave. The shield taunted him as it hung off of Sam’s arm, finally back with its true owner. The Captain America.

“I’m sorry,” you said, looking at Sam. “I just….” you glanced at Bucky, once again seeing the battering of his beautiful face. Your throat swelled as you lost your words, choking on your fear.

“We got it back,” Sam said, giving your shoulder a firm squeeze before heading out of the building. His limp as he walked didn’t escape you.

Bucky gripped your hand tightly, pulling you with him as he walked. He didn’t make it far before his knees began to buckle, his body slipping as he fell. You were at his side in a heartbeat, arm hauling him back up beside you; refusing to let his body crash to the filthy ground again. 

“Hey, hold onto me,” you said. You wrapped his arm around your shoulder and his other gripped at your waist as you began to pull him from the warehouse, his feet limping and tripping as he struggled to walk. Walker’s body began to fade in the distance as you left.

“Why did you do that, doll?” Bucky asked as you walked, his voice slurred and low. Each wince and suck of breath stabbed at your side like a pecking bird, refusing to let your wound heal. 

“I don’t know, I’ve never done that. I….” you paused, stopping your feet as you gave him a moment to catch his breath. “When I saw you hit that pole, I lost it.”

“I’m okay, Y/n,” he said, yet his words seemed to hold no weight as he struggled to stay upright at your side.

“Your arm was sparking, Bucky. You weren’t moving. I-I thought that you…” You couldn’t finish, gripping him tighter as your voice shook. As if letting him go would give the world a chance to tear him from you once again. Your fingertips dug into his tact suit, determined to embed yourself in him.

“Hey, babydoll,” he said, hoisting himself up just enough to take your face in his hands. He swayed on his feet as he stood, intent on holding you close as he spoke. Your hands held him steady at his side.

“I’m here, I’ll always be here. But no matter what happens to me, I don’t want you to lose yourself,” he said, stroking your cheek. “I can’t have that.”

“I don’t wanna lose you,” you said.

“You won’t. I’m right here, I’m always coming back to you.”

You nodded softly as you rested your head on his chest. His hands moved to your hair as he held you close. Your hands wound around his center, keeping him safe in your arms. As long as you were around, no one would take him.

“You’re so good, you’re so special, Y/n. You need to be strong, even if I get hurt. You can’t drop your morals for me. They mean too much to you,” he said.

“I think you may be my weakness,” you said, your voice muffled in his chest. He tucked himself closer into you at your words, his head resting upon yours. His lips pressed a soft kiss to the side of your head.

“You’ve always been mine,” he said softly.

---

taglist:

(comment to join <3)

[luna-azzurra]

Writing a Morally gray character

Think about their backstory, what shaped them into who they are? What do they believe in? And, most importantly, what pushes them to get out of bed every morning and keep going? These characters aren’t simple good or bad. They’re caught in the middle, in that murky, complicated space between black and white. That’s where they get interesting because they’re constantly wrestling with themselves, trying to figure out the right choice, or if the “right” choice even exists for them.

You need to show this internal battle. Imagine your character being torn between what they believe is morally right and what they actually want. This is where the real drama comes in, it’s like watching them juggle their principles with their desires in real-time. They’ll mess up, and they’ll make decisions that are sometimes questionable, but that’s what makes them human and relatable. One way to really highlight their complexity is by putting them in situations where there’s no clear answer. You know, those moments in life where everything’s kind of a mess, and you’re stuck trying to figure out what the hell you’re supposed to do? Your character should face situations like that. These gray areas create tension because readers won’t know which direction the character will go, and honestly, your character might not know either.

And don’t forget, growth is a huge part of writing a morally gray character. People aren’t static, they change based on what happens to them, and your character should too. Maybe they start off with a strong sense of morality but, over time, that starts to shift. Or maybe they start with shaky ethics and slowly become a better person as they learn from their mistakes. Growth can also go the other way, they could spiral downward, giving in to darker impulses. Either way, they need to evolve, just like people do in real life. That’s what keeps the story fresh and unpredictable. The last thing you want is a character that stays the same the whole way through.

Also, please, no stereotypes. A morally gray character doesn’t have to be a brooding anti-hero with a tragic past (unless that’s your vibe, but even then, switch it up). Give them quirks that make them unique. Maybe they have unexpected motivations, like they’re doing something shady for a cause they genuinely believe in, or they’ve got a weird sense of humor that throws people off. Whatever it is, make sure they feel like an individual, not just a copy-paste character we’ve all seen a million times.

Even when your character makes decisions that aren’t exactly clean-cut or heroic, the reader still needs to understand why. Show their vulnerabilities, why they doubt themselves, why they hesitate, and why they ultimately make the choices they do. It’s all about making them relatable, even when they’re walking that fine line between right and wrong. People might not always agree with them, but they should at least be able to see where they’re coming from.

And remember, every choice your character makes should have consequences. They don’t exist in a bubble. Their decisions should ripple out and affect not only them but the people around them. Maybe they make a selfish decision, and it ends up hurting someone they care about, or they try to do the right thing, and it blows up in their face. One last thing, just because your character lives in that gray area doesn’t mean they don’t have any sense of right or wrong. They might have their own personal code they follow, even if it doesn’t line up with society’s morals. Maybe they justify their actions in a way that makes sense to them, even if other people wouldn’t agree. It’s all about exploring that space where they’re not totally good, but not totally bad either. That’s where things get really interesting.

Think about where your character is going. Is their journey going to push them to become a better version of themselves? Will they fall back into old patterns and never really change? Or will they stay stuck in that moral gray zone, constantly torn between doing what’s right and doing what feels right for them?

[astrologydray]

Ruler of the 6th through the houses

This is where we get into daily life, service, work, wellness, and routine. Think of it as your “how I get sh*t done” energy — the ruler of your 6th house shows what area of life demands the most effort, structure, or healing🖤.

6th House Ruler in the 1st House

You are your own project.

Your identity is wrapped in your work ethic and wellness. People see you as productive, reliable, and self-improving. You’re the type to biohack, optimize, or self-discipline like a boss. You serve: Yourself, your goals, your growth. Wellness style: Actively engaged with body + health. “My body is my schedule — and my brand.”

6th House Ruler in the 2nd House

You work for stability + values.

You’re motivated by security, comfort, and building something solid. You probably have a slow-and-steady daily rhythm and need to feel grounded in your routine. You serve: Through practical help + financial support. Wellness style: Nourishment, somatic care, massage. “My routine = my resource.”

6th House Ruler in the 3rd House

Your mind is always working.

You thrive on movement, communication, and mental stimulation. You may multitask like a machine and keep a busy schedule. Writing, teaching, or running errands = daily bread. You serve: Through ideas, words, and helpful info. Wellness style: Breathwork, nervous system care, mobility. “My calendar is color-coded chaos — and I love it.”

6th House Ruler in the 4th House

Your home is your office or temple.

You crave comfort and emotional security in your daily rhythm. You may work from home or be drawn to caretaking professions. Wellness comes from emotional safety. You serve: Family, home, emotional healing. Wellness style: Nourishing food, rest, inner child care. “My peace starts at home.”

6th House Ruler in the 5th House

You work with passion or not at all.

You thrive when your work lights you up. You bring creativity to your job, and you may serve others through play, art, children, or entertainment. You’re here to infuse joy into the mundane. You serve: Through performance, love, creativity. Wellness style: Movement, pleasure, artistic release. “If it’s not fun, it’s not sustainable.”

6th House Ruler in the 6th House

You were born for systems, routines + service.

You’re naturally drawn to work, health, and structure. You may have a career in healthcare, healing, or support roles. Routines come naturally — but beware of overworking. You serve: Through consistency, integrity, mastery. Wellness style: Functional, optimized, routine-based. “Structure sets me free.”

6th House Ruler in the 7th House

You show up for others.

You serve through partnerships — whether romantic, business, or client-based. Your work may involve 1:1 relationships, and wellness improves when your relationships are in harmony. You serve: Lovers, clients, collaborators. Wellness style: Balance, connection, mirrored growth. “Your peace = my peace.”

6th House Ruler in the 8th House

You work in the shadows.

You may serve through healing, therapy, finances, or emotional transformation. You’re private about your daily habits and need depth + purpose in your work to avoid burnout. You serve: Through psychological or energetic work. Wellness style: Detox, shadow work, deep rest. “My work transforms me — and others.”

6th House Ruler in the 9th House

You work from the mind and the spirit.

You may serve through teaching, spirituality, law, or travel. Daily life needs meaning. You might crave movement or a higher mission behind the grind. You serve: Through wisdom, beliefs, or worldly perspective. Wellness style: Walking meditations, breathwork, education. “My routine is my ritual.”

6th House Ruler in the 10th House

You turn routines into legacy.

Work is your identity. You’re ambitious, career-oriented, and likely to rise in your field due to your consistency. You might manage others or become known for your service. You serve: Through leadership, professionalism, influence. Wellness style: Structured, goal-driven, visible. “Work hard, shine harder.”

6th House Ruler in the 11th House

You serve the collective.

You may work within communities, collectives, or online spaces. You need freedom and innovation in your day-to-day — and you’re likely to rebel against rigid schedules. You serve: Friends, networks, causes. Wellness style: Group classes, tech tools, unconventional methods. “My work serves the future.”

6th House Ruler in the 12th House

Invisible service, sacred structure.

You work best in solitude, or in healing/behind-the-scenes roles. Your routines may be intuitive or chaotic, and wellness is deeply tied to your emotional + spiritual state. You serve: Spirit, the unseen, vulnerable populations. Wellness style: Sleep, silence, dreams, energetic healing “Sacred rest is my medicine.”

[quarterlifekitty]

What kind of slasher are they?

cw: violence, slut shaming

Ghost is like Michael Myers or, Bobby from Sorority House Massacre. The reasons for what he does aren’t explicitly clear, and he’s not about to tell you why he’s doing what he’s doing. His kills are indiscriminate and he doesn’t even relish in them— it’s just something that needs to be done. He’s pursuing you because you are (or at least resemble) someone important from his life before. And he has unfinished business with you.

Gaz is like Pearl (from Pearl) or Patrick Bateman— he kills to cope with the meaningless mundanity of his life. He’s meticulous in his appearance and knows he’s not like everyone else— he just can’t be. There’s something rotten inside, so he has to be beautiful on the outside. You’re spared because you don’t play by the rules that he knows society to operate on. You listen when he speaks, you don’t just wait for your turn to talk. There’s something behind your eyes when you smile. You’re real, and he isn’t, and you need to be preserved.

Soap is like Freddy Krueger or the Driller Killer (from Slumber Party Massacre 2). He’s the man of your dreams, and above all else, he’s here to have fun. Usually that means goring pretty things like you and turning them into blood fountains, but if you happen to be more fun alive than screaming for mercy and impaled? He’ll probably wanna keep you around. Too bad about all your friends, though.

Price is a resident killer, like Vincent from Motel Hell or Chuck Connors in Tourist Trap. It’s you who walks into his domain, and it’ll be the last mistake you ever make. He’s nested quite nicely, and made the perfect system to kill, process and dispose— all with a smile and a family name that makes him beloved in the small town. You’re spared because, well… it’s about time for him to settle down. And of course you’re none the wiser now, but when you’ve gotten used to everything? He wants you to help him.

König is like Jason Vorhees. He kills because you’ve done something bad— a violation of his own personal code of ethics. He’ll strike swift and true, clearing out all of the filth from his own little corner of the world. You’re spared because you’re such a good girl— just the kind his mother would’ve loved. You’re not like one of those whores traipsing around in his woods… No, he’ll save you from all of those bad influences you find yourself surrounded by.

[hrrtshape]

　　the great hall dining guide : five stars or food poisoning? 　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　back to the masterlist　

no hunger in hogwarts. the great hall is an empire of excess, a temple to the art of never saying no to seconds (or sevenths). the long house tables are stacked with plates that fill and refill as if controlled by some benevolent, slightly overbearing god-parent who cannot fathom the concept of "i'm full."

hi, i'm emma, i shifted to my marauders dr, i'm here to yap.

　❛❛ when to show up ?

breakfast :  starts at 7:00 am, but nobody with a sense of self-preservation gets there at the crack of dawn unless they have quidditch practice or are a first-year who still thinks hogwarts runs on a logical schedule. prime time is 7:30–8:30 am, when the food is still hot and everyone is too groggy to engage in unnecessary morning conversations. if you come after 9:00 am, expect half-warm toast and a few sad sausages.

lunch :  served from 12:30 pm to 1:30 pm. 12:30 is the best time if you want first dibs on everything, but the best people-watching happens closer to 1:00 pm when people start arguing over last-minute essay deadlines. if you’re running late and slide in at 1:25 pm, good luck – you’re getting whatever’s left.

dinner :  6:00 pm sharp, ends at 8:00 pm. 7:00 pm is the sweet spot – not too early that you look overeager, not too late that you get the rejected drumsticks and a dubious slice of treacle tart. sitting down at 7:45 pm means you're scavenging for whatever scraps are left like a victorian orphan.

　❛❛ where to sit ?

slytherin table :  best for hushed scheming, power lunches, and exchanging contraband under the table. do not sit here if you can’t handle judgmental side-eyes while buttering your bread.

ravenclaw table :  ideal for finishing homework mid-meal. also where people pretend they’re above caring about gossip while actively eavesdropping on every conversation. the back half of the table is safer if you don’t want to hear someone dissecting 17th-century wandlore at 8 am.

gryffindor table :  loud. expect at least one person standing on the bench telling a story that is objectively not that funny. best if you enjoy chaotic meal settings or want to be involved in something ridiculous before you’ve even finished your juice.

hufflepuff table :  safest bet for a peaceful meal, but you will 100% be roped into sharing your food. the friendliest seating arrangement, but also the most likely to involve a group discussion about everyone’s day when you just wanted to eat in silence.

professor’s table :  do not sit here unless you have a death wish.

　❛❛ what to eat (and avoid) .

best breakfast items :  the porridge is solid (literally, if you come too late), but the best move is the warm croissants with honey. also, the lemon & apple pasties are basically a cheat code if you want to smuggle food out for later.

lunch must-haves :  steak and kidney pie is better than you’d expect. if there’s a soup option, proceed with caution, half the time it’s delicious, half the time it’s some medieval potion that smells like a transfiguration accident.

dinner essentials :  roast anything is good, but the yorkshire puddings are a religious experience. also, the treacle tart is worth elbowing someone for.

what to avoid :  the questionable fish dishes. boiled meant. you don’t know where that’s coming from, and you don’t want to. also, anything neon-colored. if it looks like it belongs in a potions class, it probably does.

　❛❛ general survival tips .

don’t drink the pumpkin juice if you’re not in the mood for it. it’s literally everywhere, and by week three, you will hate it.

bring your own condiments if you care about flavour. hogwarts food is good, but nobody in this castle has heard of seasoning unless it's one of those other-culture-nights.

do not, under any circumstances, take the last dinner roll unless you want to start an inter-house war.

sitting too close to the staff table means your meal comes with a free ethics lecture from mcgonagall. proceed with caution.

　　q & a .

　❛❛ what is breakfast like .

if you’ve never had breakfast in the great hall, you’ve never truly lived. that’s not hyperbole, that’s just the facts.

and the thing is,,,,,, it wasn’t just about the food. it was about the ritual. it was about getting there early, half-asleep and draped over the table, while the house elves sent up silver platters of steaming porridge and eggs and enough bacon to make even the most dedicated vegetarian question their life choices. it was about the lazy hum of morning gossip, about james and sirius trying to one-up each other with increasingly absurd breakfast combinations (once, i watched sirius put marmalade on a sausage. we don’t talk about it).

breakfast started early, before the sun had fully stretched its arms, and ended when the professors decided we were done loitering. if you weren’t there by the time mcgonagall sat down, you were basically on borrowed time.

　❛❛ what is lunch like .

lunch at hogwarts was less of a meal and more of a tactical battle. the great hall would be an absolute warzone of students rushing in from classes, half of them looking like they’d barely survived whatever horrors had just unfolded in transfiguration.

the food appeared at exactly midday, no earlier, no later. if you showed up late, you were fighting for scraps, and by scraps, i mean you’d be left with 99 choices for meals instead of 100. scarcity, i know.

lunch was also prime time for food theft. you could be having an entirely normal conversation and, in the blink of an eye, your pumpkin pasty would be gone. sirius was the undisputed king of this, the man had the reflexes of a thief in victorian london. i once watched him steal an entire shepherd’s pie from remus’s plate without breaking eye contact. it was both terrifying and awe-inspiring.

　❛❛ what is dinner like .

hogwarts dinners were the closest thing to divinity i’ve ever known. long wooden tables overflowing with everything you could possibly want: roast chicken, yorkshire pudding, steak, treacle tart so good it made you believe in love again. it was opulence, it was luxury, it was the kind of meal you dream about when you’re in some sad, muggle diner trying to convince yourself that soggy chips and watery gravy are ‘fine.’

　❛❛ special occasions .

feast days at hogwarts were another level. halloween, christmas, the end-of-year banquet, these were events. these were festivals of indulgence. the house elves pulled out all the stops: whole roast turkeys, mountains of roast potatoes, rivers of rich, golden gravy, cauldron cakes stacked like towers. desserts that defied logic and probably several laws of nature. on halloween, the hall was covered in floating pumpkins and eerie green light, and the food had a vaguely chaotic energy to match (one year, the treacle tarts actually screamed when you bit into them. highly unsettling, but still delicious).

christmas dinner was something else entirely. it was warm and glowing and endless. crackers snapped, jokes were told, and dumbledore drank enough mead to make even him slightly ridiculous. it was the kind of meal you thought about for the rest of your life. it was family, it was home.

　❛❛ what’s the deal with house-elves?

the hogwarts kitchen operates with the ruthless efficiency of a five-star hotel run by creatures legally bound to service.

a hundred or so house-elves live below the castle, working in near invisibility, preparing all meals and sending them up through enchanted pathways that deposit dishes straight onto the great hall tables. you cannot see the elves. you do not hear them. but you know they exist, like the wizarding world's most overworked stage crew.

you can also visit them in the kitchens. they're nice, say hi.

　❛❛ can you request food?

hogwarts was a lot of things, but it was not a restaurant. if you wanted something specific, you either made a pilgrimage to the kitchens and begged the house elves (a move so shameful it had to be done in absolute secrecy. or if you like....really, really, really charmed them) or you suffered in silence. sirius, of course, once tried to get the great hall to serve "a proper fry-up" at dinner, only to be met with silence and what i can only describe as deeply offended energy from the floating candles.

but somehow, it didn’t matter. because the food was already perfect. and now, i have to live knowing that no meal will ever come close to a great hall dinner. it’s fine. i’m fine. i’ll just sit here, eating my disappointing, mortal food, and pretend my soup isn’t deeply depressing.

　❛❛ what about drinks?

again, pumpkin juice. an obsession, a tyranny, a strange fixation. every meal, every table, a seemingly infinite supply. there is also water, milk (cold, in small glass jugs, looking like something out of a victorian schoolhouse), and for the older students at special occasions, a sweet, non-alcoholic mead that tastes like it wants to be alcoholic but isn’t. butterbeer, tragically, is an off-campus luxury.

　❛❛ is there a meal schedule? like certain things on certain days? or do they just pile every type of food on the table?

hogwarts operates on a structured but generous meal plan. weekday breakfasts, always got your staples. porridge, toast, eggs, bacon, sausages, and the occasional wizarding oddity like blood pudding for the particularly cursed among us. but sundays are for extravagant brunch spreads. croissants. kippers. jams that taste like childhood summers. it’s as if the house-elves know that sunday means stress, existential whatever, dread, so they soften the blow with flaky pastry.

lunch is always dependable, usually soups and sandwiches or something hearty if you’ve got a double potions period ahead. dinner, though, is where the patterns emerge. mondays are classic british, shepherd’s pie, roast beef, yorkshire pudding. tuesdays are usually a little more continental, pastas, stews. fridays are always a feast, usually something big and festive. then you have the seasonal changes: october brings pumpkin-infused everything, winter means more roasts, few first weeks of summer term leans into fresher, lighter meals. but yes, the mainstay staples are always available. if you want treacle tart on a wednesday, it will be there.

　❛❛ there’s wizard candy and drinks, but is there any other food? i’m sure at some point wizards put magic in any food they could think of just to see what would happen.

oh, absolutely. you’re thinking like a true hogwarts student. you know someone, at some point, tried to put magic into a loaf of bread just to see if it would slice itself (it did, but then it also tried to slice other things). beyond the standard chocolate frogs and pumpkin juice, wizarding cuisine includes a fair bit of magically enhanced food. firewhisky actually warms your throat as it goes down. fizzing whizzbees lift you half an inch off the ground. there are soups that change flavour as you eat them, pies that hum lullabies if you’re up late studying. and don’t even get me started on the experimental drinks at the three broomsticks, someone once ordered a 'black hole brew' and forgot what year it was for a full hour. but the cuisine is basically muggle...just hexed.

　❛❛ do the meals cater to dietary restrictions?

100%. vegans, vegetarians, allergy-havers. you’re covered. a muggleborn slytherin from third year complained about the lack of plant-based options, and the next morning, an entire section of the breakfast table was dedicated to oat milk, tofu scramble, and wizarding equivalents of nutritional yeast. hogwarts may be stuck in some medieval ways, but food evolves.

　❛❛ what happens if you miss a meal?

if you’re lucky, a friend grabs you something before the food vanishes. if you’re unlucky, you’re breaking into the kitchens like a desperate raccoon. the house-elves don’t mind, though, if you’re polite, they’ll feed you like a long-lost child. if you’re rude, they’ll 'accidentally' give you a soup that turns your tongue blue for a week.

　❛❛ is there coffee?

yes, but it’s wizard coffee. stronger than espresso, borderline narcotic. one cup and you’re writing your entire transfiguration essay in ten minutes. two cups and you can see through time.

　❛❛ how do holiday feasts work?

absolute carnage. christmas and halloween feasts are legendary. enchanted decorations, endless courses, puddings that explode into confetti when you cut into them. the easter feast is basically a chocolate overdose. sometimes on valentine’s day the desserts start murmuring love poetry. dumbledore's delighted. everyone..... horrified.

　❛❛ is there a limit to how much you can eat?

only in the sense that your body is a fragile, mortal thing. the food itself is infinite. the house-elves could, in theory, keep producing it indefinitely. but, you know, you eat four servings of steak-and-kidney pie and you’re just going to be that person in the common room later.

　❛❛ do different houses have different food preferences?

subtly, yes. the great hall offers everything, but certain tables lean into certain dishes. gryffindors love big, hearty, comforting food. ravenclaws lean into the more intricate, delicate meals, think pastries and complex soups. slytherins have an eye for the finer things, often going for the more gourmet options. hufflepuffs love food that feels like a hug: freshly baked bread, warm pies, things that remind you of home.

　❛❛ are there midnight snacks?

not officially, but yes. common rooms have snack stashes. and if you’re clever (or just have the marauder’s map, wink wink), you can always sneak down to the kitchens. the house-elves will feed you, no questions asked. some students take it a step further and befriend the house-elves outright. those students never go hungry.

　❛❛ how does the food appear? is it just magic or is there a system?

magic, but with logistics. the food is prepared in the kitchens directly beneath the great hall, then it’s levitated up and appears on the tables at the precise moment it’s ready. no waiting, no serving, just instant gratification. it’s dangerously efficient.

　❛❛ how does hogwarts source its food? is it all local, or do they magically import things?

combination of both. they have magical greenhouses and farms for most fresh ingredients, but certain things, exotic spices, imported sweets, get brought in magically.

　❛❛ are there ever surprise meals? do the house elves ever just decide to switch things up randomly?

sometimes, if there’s an occasion or they just feel like it. but the menu is largely set because consistency is part of the magic.

　❛❛ are meals ever used as punishment? do detention students get different food or are they made to help the house elves prepare meals?

not officially, but some professors (like astronomy) have been known to send students to do menial kitchen work as a form of discipline. nothing cruel, just hours of potato peeling.

　❛❛ has there ever been a kitchen-related disaster? a spell gone wrong, a cauldron explosion, a food fight?

yes, frequently !!!! misfired enlarging spells, self-chopping vegetables getting too enthusiastic, enchanted ladles starting fights. house elves keep it under control, but it’s not unheard of for a whole batch of treacle tart to suddenly gain sentience and try to unionise.

[totallyxtaurus]

Depollute me, gentle angel pt.2

Summary: Sylus is away on a business trip while you sink deeper into your depressive episode. Pairing: Sylus x gn reader Genre: Angst, some fluff (maybe, hopefully!) Trigger Warnings: depression, mental health struggles, anxiety, self-neglect, and hints of suicide. A/N: I hope this doesn't feel too rushed! I'm still trying to figure out a good pacing of how I should break these up without them being too long or too short. Posted too quickly or not quick enough, so any advice would be very welcomed and appreciated! I hope I did Sylus justice with his responses, I just took what I would want to hear essentially. But, Hozier's Wasteland, Baby! album is so Sylus coded. I got so many ideas for other fics, so stay tuned! And again, please please please take sweet care of yourselves! 💗

Prev

The chime echoes through the apartment, and for a moment there’s nothing. No footsteps, no shuffle of movement inside. Sylus exhales, fingers softly tapping on the doorframe while he waits. He already knows. He had known the moment communication stopped, when his calls went to voicemail, when even the short, tired texts faded into silence. At first, he assumed you were just busy, needing space. But the longer he waited, the clearer it became—if it were up to you, you wouldn’t come back at all. He began doing his own investigation, looking up the traits you portrayed usually compared to these moments of time and he found his answer. So, he started paying attention. Comparing your usual habits to these stretches of absence. Watching for the patterns. Having Mephisto follow you to your therapist’s office had only confirmed what he already suspected.

As advised, he gave you time—three days, exactly. Then the calls began, gentle and steady, each one a quiet pull back to him. Each time, he waited for you to let him in, to say something. But instead, he got excuses. Busy with work. Out with friends. His personal favorite: just sleeping. It’s almost amusing, how you seem to forget he has your location. He always knows where you are. 

Sylus toys with the key in his hand, should he, or shouldn’t he? Would this cross a line? You had given this to him for an emergency, wouldn’t this be considered one? It has been a full week without hearing from you. He never lets it go this long but work held him up so he couldn’t do his usual routine. He continued to ponder the ethics of his decision until he heard it, movement. A sign of life behind the door that still won’t open up for him. That’s it, he decides and inserts the key. 

As the door swings open, a gust of stale air hits him, thick with stillness. His eyes immediately scan the space, searching for the life he just heard. But as he steps inside, it’s clear- the main rooms haven’t been touched in days, especially the kitchen. He moves toward the bedroom when the bathroom door suddenly swings open. 

Both of you freeze, staring at one another in shock. 

For a moment, he just looks at you. Taking in the hollowed eyes, the tangled hair, the way your clothes sit wrong on you—looser in some places, clinging in others— like they were meant to fit differently but now just hang, like an afterthought. His chest tightens—not in disgust, never that— but in a quiet, constrained ache. He swallows it down, he knows letting you see that pain won’t help. Instead, he inhales, careful, and controlled. Just as he opens his mouth to speak, he hears it. 

Get out 

The words reach him, but his mind trips over them, grasping for meaning. 

For a second, all Sylus processes is the sound of your voice—hoarse, unsteady, faint, as if it took all your energy to speak at all. His mind is still trying to catch up, to piece everything together. But that’s when he really sees you. The way you stand there stiffly, eyes shining with unshed tears, flickering to anything that isn't him. As if meeting his gaze would break your resolve. The tension in your jaw, arms crossed tightly over your chest, shoulders hunched forward, as if you’re shielding yourself from him. And then he sees it—fear. Shame. They were there all along, laced with the exhaustion and neglect. Deeply settled, lingering long before he walked in the door. He had been so focused on finding you, making sure you were safe, that he hadn’t realized—you didn’t want to be found. Not like this. 

The tightness in his chest twisting further, a quiet reminder of his mistake. Instead, he exhales in that same rehearsed way.

"Sweetie," he tries again. His voice was low, full of gentleness. Less of a greeting, more of a reassurance. He’s not going anywhere. 

You just shake your head, a silent refusal, as if willing for him to disappear. Your stance is firm, guarded. But Sylus isn't someone who retreats at the first sign of a challenge. Especially not when it's you. 

"I know kitten, I know you don't want me to see you like this. And I know you think that pushing me away will make everything easier for you, for me. But it won't, it hasn't. You don't have to do this alone." 

He sees the tears start to fall, a quiet surrender that he takes as a response. Without hesitation, he continues, his voice softer but unwavering.

Taking a small step forward, slow yet deliberate as he speaks, "Just focus on me for a second, okay? Forget about everything else, it's just us. Can you breathe with me, my love?" As he demonstrates with measured, even breaths. Never forcing, just offering, hoping it will bring your attention back to the present instead of whatever thoughts you're trapped in.

He notices the way your hunched shoulders drop, relaxing slightly, and how your clenched arms finally loosen their grip on your body. He continues to encourage you, taking slow, careful steps closer. 

"You don’t have to do anything big. I’m not here with any expectations. Why don’t we just sit down? We don’t have to talk, I’ll just sit with you, if that’s okay." His voice is soft, low, coaxing. 

Sylus notices the immediate shift in your demeanor as you register his close proximity-the shield coming back as your body goes rigid once again. You close back in on yourself and take a step back. 

You should go. I stink and I'm sure I look horrific; you mutter as your hand comes up to your face to shield it. His heart pangs, but he doesn't let his expression falter. He can't afford to let you see how much it hurts him that you're hiding from him like this. He takes another small step closer, never pushing, just allowing the space between the both of you to remain as it is. He doesn't want to make you feel trapped, but he wants to show you, prove to you, that he's not leaving.

"Kitten," his voice steady and carrying a weight of reassurance deeper than words can convey. "I'm not leaving. If I wanted to, I would. You know I don't do things I don't want to. But I'm here, for however long you want me around. I'm yours." 

You scoff, shaking your head, still refusing to meet his gaze. "Why?" you ask, voice cracking. "Look at me, smell me, Sylus. Jesus Christ I'm disgusting. Why would you want to stay? Are you nuts?" 

"It's been suggested," he cuts in, his tone remaining gentle yet firm. Finally, you look up at him, and the anger in your gaze takes him by surprise but he holds his ground. 

"You just don't get it," you emphasize, your words sharp and full of frustration. "What's there to get?" he wonders but doesn't dare to speak it. "Sweetie," he says tenderly, "if this is you at your worst, then I've suffered far worse than this. You think I haven't smelled, or hit rock bottom before? When I did-or if I do sometime in the future, would you leave me? Would you push me away" 

"Don't be ridiculous," you say, your voice tinged with exasperation. His lips quirk into a soft smirk, his eyes never leaving yours.  

"Can I hold your hand?" he whispers, watching you closely, waiting for your response. You hesitate, then barely nod, just enough for him to catch it. He takes your hand in his, lifting it gently to his lips and pressing a soft kiss on the back of it.  

Out of the corner of his eye, he catches the way your face scrunches up, a grimace of discomfort, but the smile on his lips remains warm and unwavering. 

"How about this," he continues, "I'll make you something small to eat. You don't have to finish it. Just one bite. No pressure."  

You pause, your mind working through his offer. Until, after a moment, your shoulders sag in defeat, and with a sigh, you agree. Your hand still secured in his, he leads you to the kitchen, placing another kiss on the top of your head before turning to the fridge to pull out what little food there is. 

"After we eat, can you shower with me?" The words barely escape your lips, so faint that for a moment he's unsure he heard them. He looks at you, hoping his love for you radiates in his gaze.

"Of course," he replies, his voice steady and sure. "Whatever you want, my dove." He watches as the faintest of smiles flicker across your face, the kind of smile he's willing to wait for, no matter how long it takes. 

Tag list: @withering-dream @madam8 @t4naiis @sunhooniez

[astrolook]

Empty Houses in Your Birth Chart: Cosmic Ghost Town or Chill Zone?

So, you’ve been staring at your birth chart and wondering why you have empty houses. Maybe you have no planets in your 7th house (“Am I doomed to die alone?”), or your 2nd house (“Does this mean I’ll be broke forever?”). Relax. Breathe. The universe didn’t just forget to assign you a personality.

Empty houses don’t mean you lack something; they mean you don’t have a planet permanently renting space there. It’s like a fully furnished Airbnb—functional, livable, just not your primary residence. You still experience these areas of life, just without a permanent cosmic tenant making a mess of things.

Empty 1st House - House of Self, Identity, and ‘Main Character Energy’

"Who am I?"

You don’t need planets in your 1st house to have a personality, I promise. If it’s empty, your Rising Sign ruler/lord is the real MVP here—it’s the planet secretly controlling your life like an undercover boss.

It doesn't mean you’re invisible, boring, or lacking an identity. (Come on, even NPCs have a backstory.)

Unlike people with planets here, you’re not out here having existential crises every five minutes.

Empty 2nd House - House of Money, Self-Worth & That Bag 💰

"Will I ever be rich?"

You’re not destined to survive on instant noodles forever. Your financial success comes from the sign ruling this house—not a chaotic planet constantly meddling with your money habits.

Here, money isn’t the biggest stressor in your life (lucky you). You might not define yourself by wealth, but you can still make serious cash.

Empty 3rd House - House of Communication, Siblings & ‘Did You Read the Fine Print?’

"Why do people talk so much?"

No planets here? You don’t have constant mental chatter or an obsession with posting hot takes on Twitter (unlike certain air sign placements). You process information at your own pace, and your Mercury placement tells us how you communicate.

Here it simply mean that you can be a great speaker or writer—just without the need to debate everything to death.

Empty 4th House - House of Family & Emotional Foundations

"Am I emotionally stable or just unbothered?"

If your 4th house is empty, family drama isn’t your core personality trait (looking at you, Cancer moons). Your upbringing shaped you, but your emotions aren’t constantly under siege.

It means you don’t live in your past. Your sense of home and emotional security comes from the ruling sign, not a chaotic planet making things messy.

Empty 5th House - House of Fun, Romance & ‘Oops, I Did It Again’

"Am I doomed to be boring?"

Empty 5th house? You still have fun, fall in love, and make questionable decisions—it’s just not your full-time job. Your creative hobbies, love life, and risk-taking tendencies come from the house ruler, not a planet throwing drama parties.

It means you’re not obsessively seeking attention. You can still be artistic, romantic, and entertaining—you just do it without the theatrics.

Empty 6th House - House of Work, Health & That Annoying Daily Routine

"Do I even have a work ethic?"

No planets in the 6th house? Congrats, you’re not micromanaging your own existence. You handle responsibilities when necessary, but you’re not out here color-coding to-do lists at 3 AM.

It means you’re chill about work and health. You get things done without needing a constant cosmic drill sergeant yelling at you.

Empty 7th House - House of Relationships & ‘Are We Dating or Just Vibing?’

"Am I cursed in love?"

Nope, an empty 7th house doesn’t mean you’re single forever. It just means you’re not obsessed with relationships—your partnerships unfold naturally instead of being your life’s central drama.

It means you don’t overcomplicate love. You attract relationships when the time is right—without planets causing unnecessary chaos.

Empty 8th House -House of Transformation, Sex & ‘What Happens After We Die?’

"Am I missing the ‘mystical and sexy’ gene?"

The 8th house rules deep transformation, shared finances, intimacy, and, well…death. If you have an empty 8th house, does this mean you’re boring and no sexual life? (Spoiler: No.)

It means you’re not haunted by existential crises 24/7 (lucky you). You go through major transformations, but you’re not obsessing over the meaning of life while waiting for your Starbucks order.

You might have a healthy approach to power and intimacy—unlike people with a crowded 8th house, who experience life like a dramatic phoenix constantly combusting.

Empty 9th House -House of Travel, Higher Learning & ‘I’m Moving to Bali’

"Am I allergic to wisdom and adventure?"

This is the house of philosophy, wanderlust, and that one friend who quit their job to find themselves in another country. But if your 9th house is empty, are you doomed to stay in one place forever?

It means you don’t need a crisis to push you into adventure. You explore life when you want, not because a planet is forcing you into a life-changing backpacking trip.

Your beliefs and perspectives expand over time—you just don’t feel the need to become a monk overnight.

Empty 10th House - House of Career, Public Image & ‘Will I Ever Be Successful?’

"Am I a failure?"

An empty 10th house does not mean you’ll spend your life jobless, unknown, or forever stuck in an unpaid internship from hell. The 10th house rules career and legacy, but an empty one means…you don’t obsess over it 24/7.

You can be highly successful—you just don’t need planets constantly pushing you into an identity crisis about it. Your MC ruler tells the real story of your career path.

Some of the most successful people have an empty 10th house—because they’re too busy succeeding to stress over it.

Empty 11th House - House of Friendships, Social Circles & ‘Am I Cool?’

"Do I have no friends?"

An empty 11th house does not mean you’re a loner or the social equivalent of a tumbleweed. You have friends. You just don’t need a cosmic hype squad of planets managing your social life.

It means you don’t rely on social validation to exist. Your friendships are natural and not built on constant drama and chaos.

You attract the right people without forcing it. You don’t need to collect acquaintances like Pokémon cards—you value quality over quantity.

Empty 12th House - House of the Subconscious, Dreams & ‘Main Character in a Spiritual Awakening’

"Am I just…normal?"

If your 12th house is empty, does this mean you lack spiritual depth, psychic visions, and tragic poet energy? Nope. You’re just not drowning in existential dread 24/7, unlike those with a packed 12th house (send them love, they need it).

You’re not haunted by past-life trauma every time Mercury retrogrades. You connect with your spirituality in a way that’s natural and not overwhelming.

Your spiritual growth is steady and not tied to constant suffering. (Honestly, be grateful.)

🌟 Instead of asking ‘What am I lacking?’ ask ‘Where do I flow naturally?’ 🔍 Look at the ruling planet of each empty house—that’s your real guide. 🔥 Transits activate empty houses, so life will still spice things up when needed!

So, next time someone gasps at your empty 7th house (“Oh no, you’ll never find love!”), just laugh—because joke’s on them, you’re living a drama-free life.

Want to understand what your birth chart really says about you? DM me for a reading, and let’s decode your cosmic blueprint together! 🔮✨

Karmic Paths & Soul Purpose: A Complete Guide to the North Nodes & South Nodes in Astrology (13-page report) - $5

Get my full PDF guide for just $5! Payment via PayPal. Once payment is confirmed, I will send you the PDF. It covers North Node & South Node in signs & houses, who you were in your past life, your career, family, love and your relationships in detail. Message me to grab your copy! 🌟

Note : Due to different time zones, I might not reply immediately. Don't worry! Leave me your email address for me to send the password-protected PDF file. Once the payment is confirmed, I will give you the password to access to it.

[strawberrysznn]

Beauty AND brains. Your knowledge is your weapon.

Let's not only be insanely beautiful but also disgustingly educated. Other than discipline and hard work, your knowledge is your weapon in this world of chaos, something that you can sharpen and use.

Where can you expand your knowledge? What areas, what topics

How can you expand your knowledge? In different circumstances and preferences such as if you're too busy or if you have a short attention span

Where can you expand your knowledge?

I DO NOT mean that you need to be an expert at everything. You don't need multiple degrees for each type of intelligence. However, if you want to sharpen your weapon, sharpen your knowledge.

These are the areas where you CAN sharpen your knowledge AND the areas where you SHOULD know the basics in:

Emotional, Communication, Morals, Ethics. Be human, and make others feel human too. Cultivate empathy, understand mental health, build your conscience, and differentiate right from wrong. Communicate frequently and effectively.

History, Culture, Politics. The world is chaotic — learn to stand your ground. Understand history, politics, corruption, culture, and the overlooked heroes. Know what shaped the past to navigate the future.

Digital Literacy. The internet is a double-edged sword. Learn to navigate it safely, protect your privacy, spot misinformation, and adapt to evolving technology.

Manners, Etiquette, Body Language. The way you present yourself matters. Respect others, read unspoken cues, and master the art of presence.

Self-Sufficiency, Life Skills, Livelihood. You won’t always have someone to rely on. Cook, clean, manage time, handle money, and adapt to life’s challenges. Be independent.

Literature, Language, Writing. Words are power. Read, write, and communicate with depth. Language shapes history, culture, and thought—use it wisely.

Critical Thinking, Problem-Solving. The world isn’t black and white. Question everything, analyze critically, recognize manipulation, and think for yourself. Don't be swayed easily by others.

Science and Math. The foundation of everything. At least know the basics, enough to understand the forces shaping the world — logic, numbers, and the universe itself.

Self-Care, Hygiene, Fitness, Health. Your body and mind are your greatest assets. Eat well, stay active, manage stress, and prioritize your well-being before it’s too late.

How can you expand your knowledge?

When you have free time When you're busy When you prefer learning visually When you have little to no attention span

You are what you consume. Now that you know what topics you can expand your knowledge on, these are what you can use / do to consume those information:

Have some free time? Do / use these

Read books, take online courses, or watch in-depth documentaries. (Example: history books, finance courses, science explainers) Engage in discussions or debates to refine your thinking. (Example: politics, ethics, critical thinking) Try hands-on learning like experiments, DIY projects, or journaling. (Example: cooking, coding, writing) Attend workshops, seminars, or community events.

Too busy? Do / use these

Listen to podcasts or audiobooks while traveling, doing tasks / work / school work, or doing chores. (Example: podcasts on Spotify / Tiktok, Youtube videos where the creator is more on speaking, audiobooks on Audible or by downloading a free e-pub format e-book online then uploading it into Google Playbooks and using the audiobook / text-to-speech format) Follow bite-sized content on social media. (Example: short educational / history Tiktok videos, digital literacy infographics, photos on Pinterest) Take advantage of apps and tools for productivity, learning, etc. (Example: budgeting apps, language-learning apps) Watch short, informative videos during breaks. (Example: TED-Ed, Ted Talks, short Tiktok videos)

Like to learn visually / by watching? Do / use these

Watch video explainers, documentaries, or animated infographics. Use apps that gamify learning. (Example: Duolingo for language, Codecademy for coding) Follow visually engaging content creators. (Example: finance charts, body language breakdowns) Make mind maps or illustrated notes to break down complex topics. (Example: self-care routines, political structures, problem-solving techniques)

Little to no attention span? Do / use these

Learn through short-form content like TikToks, reels, or infographics. Play interactive or gamified learning apps. (Example: strategy games, trivia quizzes) Follow meme-based or storytelling-style education accounts. Try hands-on, fast-paced activities. (Example: debate flash rounds, real-world problem-solving challenges, DIY experiments)

Begin small, learn the basics, take a step at a time, and start from there. Be BOTH beauty and brains. You have a weapon (your knowledge), sharpen it and use it.