Dust is not the origin of bone. Goblet of Fire ╱ Harry Potter.

Please, God, Pray for us sinners. Remmick x OC

a collection of musings from a sentimental idiot. © 𝙫𝙞𝙤𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙩-𝙙𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨, 2025

Strange house we must keep and fill. House that eats, and pleads, and kills. ▍ AN ORIGINAL STORY ╱ historical romantic melodrama! Cape Iris was swathed in lilacs and lilies. A small land of pure fragrance. A honey scene of air soft dandelion tuffs encased by a large pool of Himalayan salt and ivory sand beaches. The Chevaliers ruled that place. (The Chevaliers ruled the world.) Whispers were harsh, tones full of lead at the mention of the Chevaliers wealth. They were gold emblemed, star-studded, but there was something about them. Something the world raised their necks, clearing the ears, eager to know. What do you know about the Chevaliers? Nothing. No one knows a thing. Some said the father had multiple wives. Some said the mother had a lobotomy. Some said the son had a drug problem. Some said the daughter murdered the Lowry boy. But everyone talks. So does money. And the Chevalier's had a lot of it. But no one could pay Killian Alcott, esteemed writer, enough to keep his fingers off the typewriter and his prying eyes away from the Chevalier's that dreaded Summer of 1954. But there was one Chevalier in particular that left an impression. Call it a mark. A wound within flesh. A narrowed confession only spoken between two. And that single impression doomed the Chevalier name. Isn't that the best part of a story? The tragedy. ❪ m!oc & m!oc ❫ ❪ f!oc & m!oc ❫ 𓊝 written by april PEARLJARS © 2024

Kaz Brekker's first six months with his cane. =────=────= © bluebellbouquets / 2025 Completed / September 29, 2025

━━━ Am I making you feel sick? Tommy Shelby x OC!reader Cover by: Pearljars

All roads lead to you... even those I took to forget you.

i gave a boy a lavender sprig and he returned me with a kiss. ©achillics

just a random collection of poems to get lost in. (written by me)

We talk so much of light. Please, let me speak on behalf of the good dark. Let us talk more of how dark the beginning of a day is. ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ TOM M. RIDDLE 2020 © Sainteda