#~ A Slashed Face On A Portrait | References ~

[karan-koron]

About Tokimaro

@anemoneflower said: Thanks, that was very informative! Btw, can you elaborate on what you by Tokimaro being feminised on many ways?

Hi! Sorry for my very late answer and replying to you via a new post but the character limit in the answer box thingie was bothering me. This is just my own interpretation because I haven't read or heard anything from the Gegege no Nazo staff about it of course so don't take it too seriously!

What makes Tokimaro such an uncanny character is how he constantly goes back and forth between trying to maintain a certain poise and showing raw emotion. These contradicting traits show in the scene before his death, with his face as a distorted mask :

(as a sidenote: The white mask visual and in general Tokimaro "hiding" under white makeup might also be another nod to The Inugami Family, specifically the character Sukekiyo Inugami, as Genazo is full of references from this movie!)

Men in the Heian period did wear makeup whitening their skin as a sign of nobility but the practice historically mostly concerns women (and kabuki performers), with the idea that covering the face in white hides a person's self and emotions under a mask, and that beauty resides in what is hidden. Ohaguro as well, the practice of painting the teeth black, was a symbol of female beauty. These practices were lost apart for geisha, maiko and kabuki performers by 1956, which for me makes Tokimaro stand out amongst all the Ryuga. Dressed like a nobleman of Heian, his makeup, his posture, his speech, everything about him shows that he's actively trying to maintain a certain character. It's like Tokimaro is playing a role he is not only not great at, but that he doesn't seem to find particularly comfortable either. He's the first son, Tokisada's successor, and the shrine priest - but it's Otome who voices her concerns after the earthquake asking if he will do something about it.

All of the Ryuga have their more-or-less-explicitely stated own subplot and own aspirations, the tragedy being that they are all kept prisoners by Tokisada's legacy. And in this specific scene I capped above, to me, there's a certain frustration expressed by Tokimaro here ; he has been diligently training under Tokisada, submitting to a situation he didn't choose for himself. This might very well include the outfit, make up and speech, the "Toto-sama" name, all that makes the "character" around Tokimaro really. The moment Tokisada is gone, Tokimaro tries to claim Sayo's body for himself, surely something he hasn't been able to do until now and that he has been waiting for impatiently, as in after the succession scene there's specific focus given to him glancing at Sayo before he leaves the room.

So yeah, to me Tokimaro displays very complicated feelings for his Toto-sama, of distress at the loss, and also of newfound freedom after being conditioned for so long.

I have seen this scene being discussed multiple times because of the slashed portrait of Tokisada, and this is often attributed to Sayo. However, when she rummages through Tokimaro's stuff before, the portrait is already slashed. She's clearly in a hurry and driven to help her dear Mizuki-sama at this point, so I can't see her taking the time to lash out at the portrait when she has to be discreet and quick. So what if after coming back to his room to seclude himself, Tokimaro celebrated Tokisada's death by slashing the portrait himself? If Tokimaro felt genuine respect and love for his father, surely he would have respected the Ryuga's tradition of confining oneself on the night before the funeral that Katsunori described to Mizuki early in the movie. Instead, that night he somehow ended up at the shrine with Sayo attempting to assault her. It shows not only his impatience to get at Sayo but his disregard for tradition that Toto-sama put a lot of care into teaching him as the eldest son of the family...

Anyways ; all the Ryuga submit to Tokisada of course, but Tokimaro as the eldest son was in a special spot where he seems like he was groomed into the role of someone entirely submissive and subjugated by Tokisada, made in the shape of a pretty hina doll, a completely theatrical and fictional role of the Next head of the family that Tokisada had no plans of ever giving him anyways since he had been plotting to come back using Tokiya as his next vessel. Tokimaro's sense of self was taken away, and specifically his masculinity - and he tried to claim it back by assaulting Sayo as soon as Tokisada was out of the picture. But he failed, of course, and interestingly it's Otome who becomes the acting head of the family after his death.

[goblinselfshippr]

Here's uhhh unfinished fic chapter w the info taken out 👉👈 I tagged what I thought of, I can't think of anything else. Mostly just fluff

🌸🌹🌸🌹🌸🌹🌸🌹🌸🌹🌸🌹🌸

Though safety has been promised, when you live a life of empty promises and blatant lies as ⬛⬛⬛⬛ has, you start to wait. Wait for them to get bored with the peace. Wait for them to grow hungry again. Unfortunately, his anxiety starts up mine, and we’re huddled in the corner of his bed. He hasn’t dressed yet, but I’d made the effort to put on my underwear, at least.

“I could fight them off,” he says, but the shake in his voice says he’s unsure, ”I’ll keep them away from you as long as possible.” I stroke his messy brown curls, “No you won’t.” He pulls me a little tighter, nails digging in. I’d told him once that the feeling comforted me. But this time, I kiss his forehead, “Come on. I’ll do your hair.” He shakes his head, burrowing tighter in my chest. He groaned quietly, ”Oh, what does it matter? They only want to see you. I’m just a blubbering drunk to them.” True… no one had seen him since ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛ cleaned him up. Except when he slipped up a couple times.

I lean down to his ear with a grin in my voice, “Who says it’s for them? You’re my husband, you know? Not theirs.” Still, he pouts. “We’re running out of time. Let me take care of you,” I pleaded softly. Slowly, he roused, and I tousled his hair with a grin, “Good boy.” He grumps a little, petulantly putting on his slacks and grabbing his dress shirt. He puts it on but doesn’t button it.

I grabbed my spray bottle and some other luxuries I’d begged him to get for his hair. I wrapped a towel around his neck and started spraying down his hair. Then I took the leave in I’d concocted for him and doused him in that, combing through with the long bristled brush. He sighed, relaxing a little as the thirty or so bristles massaged his scalp and guided the knots away. Occasionally I’d stop and press sweet affirmations to his ear with little kisses. Then I took the pomade and used my fingers to encourage his curls to spring up. They needed little guidance. They shimmered a little from the water and unset gel, and the tips were much thinner than his roots now, still left over from his previous life.

It felt rewarding to be able to see his progress in his dark hair, thickened by the years of love and care. I saw it in his clothes too, the way he actually filled them now instead of how they used to hang off him like sheets on a ghost. He was always pretty, I’d thought. He had a portrait of himself stuffed in a closet somewhere in his massive, empty house from when he was 16. The painter had been kind enough to use references from before his ⬛⬛⬛. I’d stared at it for a while, how the golden band made his thick hair bend in and curled around it as if the very fibers of his body wanted to hide the shame and hurt that came with the weight of the crown. I wondered why he’d kept it safe- or if he even knew it was there. He certainly had had no issue destroying the other furniture in his house in his past life. I was too afraid to bring it up. Selfishly scared he’d destroy it too. Take the knife he slept with under the bed and slash through it.

Literally tearing himself apart.

I gently fluffed his drying curls and kissed his cheek. “You’re so pretty.” He grumbled a little at my comment, thinking of something to say that covered the reddening of his face. He decided on: “I’m a guy, you know?” I smiled, “And?” His grumbling continued as he searched for his jacket. I looked at my own clothes, going off of what ⬛⬛⬛⬛ wore. I grabbed my nice black dress with scalloped sleeves, and he stopped me. “Don’t wear that,” he groaned, almost exasperated. I looked up at him in shock, ”What? It looks nice! And we’ll match.” He gave me an easy smile, “We can’t both be in black, hun. We’ll look like a funeral procession.”

“Well what should I wear then?”

[whitesinhistory]

In the early hours of the morning on April 5, 1880, Cadet Johnson Whittaker, one of the first Black students in the U.S. Military Academy at West Point, was brutally beaten by white cadets while sleeping in his barracks. Three white cadets ambushed Cadet Whittaker, slashed his head and ears, burned his Bible, threatened his life, and then left him in his underwear, tied to the bed and bleeding profusely.

Born enslaved in South Carolina in 1858, Cadet Whittaker received a congressional appointment to the U.S. Military Academy in 1876. For most of his time at West Point, Cadet Whittaker was the only Black cadet at the institution; he endured social exclusion and racial terrorism perpetrated at the hands of white cadets and faculty alike. Twenty-three Black cadets attended West Point between 1870 and 1890, but due to the violent discrimination that they faced, only three graduated. Cadet Whittaker would later testify that he had “read and heard about the treatment that [Black] cadets received there, and expected to be ostracized.”

After Cadet Whittaker reported to West Point administrators that he had been attacked, the institution opened an investigation into him and declined to hold his white attackers accountable. Administrators instead claimed that Cadet Whittaker had staged the attack to get out of his final exams, and in May, a West Point court of inquiry found Cadet Whittaker guilty of that charge. He was forced to take his final exams while incarcerated and withstand court-martial proceedings in New York City where the army prosecutor repeatedly referred to Black people as an “inferior race” known to “feign and sham.”

In January 1881, Brigadier General N.A. Miles affirmed Cadet Whittaker’s conviction and authorized him to be expelled from West Point, dishonorably discharged from the military, and held for continued imprisonment. Cadet Whittaker’s case was ultimately forwarded to President Chester A. Arthur for approval, and, a year later, President Arthur issued an executive order overturning the conviction based on a finding that military prosecutors had relied on improperly admitted evidence. By the time of President Arthur’s intervention, Cadet Whittaker had been incarcerated for nearly two years; even after his conviction was overturned, West Point reinstated Cadet Whittaker’s expulsion, claiming he had failed an exam.

Johnson Whittaker went on to work in several professional fields and raise a family, including several generations of descendants who served in the U.S. military. In 1995, more than 60 years after his death, Mr. Whittaker’s heirs accepted the commission he would have received upon graduating West Point. At the ceremony, President Bill Clinton remarked: “We cannot undo history. But today, finally, we can pay tribute to a great American and we can acknowledge a great injustice.”

To learn more about the racial discrimination and violence Black service members and veterans have faced in the U.S. military, explore EJI’s report, Lynching in America: Targeting Black Veterans.

Portrait of Cadet Whittaker at the court-martial proceedings. (Library of Congress)

[justacvfan]

ALL the references in the Dead Cells x Castlevania trailer, "Return to Castlevania"

The trailer opens with the Dead Cell's Prisoner at the outskirts of Dracula's Castle, in the woods. He's perplexed for what has happened as he sees a mess on the way leading to the unholy fortress and then sees a zombie emerging from the earth while we see the castle gates. Another zombie tells him that the answers he's seeking for are in the castle. We see the castle's gates and two gargoyles sitting on pillars.

This is similar to Castlevania: Harmony of Dissonance's prologue, where we can see two gargoyles too at the entrance.

After entering the castle and discovering tons of monsters' corpses lying on the way to the upper floor and corridor, he sees two famous vampire hunters: Richter Belmont & Alucard. They are taking care of Dracula's army of demons, slashing, whipping, and kicking asses.

Alucard is armed with the Alucard Sword and Richter wields the legendary Vampire Killer, but the design is the Combat Cross one from the Castlevania: Lords of Shadows game series. I'm glad that since SBBU recent collabs featuring the Belmonts have also acknowledged that the Combat Cross looks cooler than the bullwhip classic design.

The Prisoner then decides to battle Alucard and Richter, thinking they are foes for killing many creatures. Seeing that the Prisoner is very reckless, both decide to tackle him, breaking many walls and sending him away to a well known tower. Alucard used a quick dash plus his vampire strength and Richter tackles the Prisoner by summoning holy fire on the Vampire Killer and covering himself with it.

This might be a reference to his flame whip Item Crash in Castlevania: Rondo of Blood and SotN when having no sub-weapons plus his dashing attack in Castlevania: Symphony of the Night, but also Trevor's fire tackle in Castlevania: Curse of Darkness.

The guy with the flaming head and one eye ends up flying out from the Castle Keep to another room. When the Prisoner turns back and notices where's he's at, he sees none other than the Dark Lord Dracula. He's in Dracula's chamber from Castlevania: Symphony of the Night.

Dracula sees him as an intruder and proceeds to face him in combat, teleporting. His teleport leaves smoky bats, similar to when he appears and disappears in some games like Castlevania: Bloodlines, Chronicles & Portrait of Ruin, and also the Dracula Wraith, who only possesses Dracula's facade, does this in Harmony of dissonance.

Terrified, the Prisoner notices that Richter and Alucard also have come to face Dracula and joins them, because now he knows who's the real bad guy that he has to defeat. Behind them we have a reference to the stained glass of Olrox's chamber.

The three heroes are ready to face the Count. Alucard does a spell that is similar to the Sword Brothers one but also resembles the Heaven's Sword special attack, summoning many blades around him.

Richter uses the Bible sub-weapon to imbue himself with Holy Power.

The Prisoner also does a special attack summoning...pans?, similar to Richter's Axe Item-Crash in Castlevania: Rondo of Blood and SotN.

When Alucard dashes with the other two heroes to attack Dracula, in a split-second, you can see that the animators added Alucard's starting walking cycle animation, holding part of his cape with one hand and letting the rest to flow behind him, extending his other arm.

Dracula covers himself with his cape when Alucard, Richter and the Prisoner are about to strike him in their combined attack. Then he counterattacks them with his iconic spell: Hellfire, trying to confront the heroes' combined powers. Then we get a close up of his fangs, perhaps wanting to bite them, and then the scene cuts into a black screen for a second.

We see then that the heroes have been defeated and now stand outside in a cliff, perhaps ready to take revenge and defeat the Prince of Darkness once and for all next time. This is a reference to the ending of many Castlevania games, but also the first one that featured more than one hero standing victorious while watching the castle on the horizon: Castlevania III: Dracula's Curse.

Phew. Well, i think this is all of it, at least about the visual references, because i know you got all the famous music that was played in the trailer. Kudos to the animators who made this awesome trailer with lots of details in it. This is how you give fan-service to the fans and how you get them to buy your game plus this DLC. The music, the cartoony and expressive style, the action, everything was incredible. The trailer was flawless. Well, no. It's too short. I really want to see more of this, where i can sign a petition? by the way, the collab's name, "Return to Castlevania" seems to be a reference to an infamous Captain N episode of the same name, featuring Simon, Alucard & Dracula with their worst looks ever, lol.

[melisusthewee]

I HAVE BEEN BLESSED BY THE ART FAIRY!!!

The absolutely phenomenal @vjatoch allowed me to commission a portrait of my Inquisitor Quinn Trevelyan.  I’ve adored their art for years, ever since they first showed up with this amazing Alistair portrait I still remember vividly.  And now... my blorbo.  My baby.  My boy.  Art!!!

I don’t even know what to say.  He’s perfect!  He’s real!  (He’s too powerful with that open jacket!)  I just want to lie down and allow my feelings to consume me because this is it.  This is him.  This is the dude I have always pictured.  HE’S A PERSON!!!

(more gushing about the details below the cut)

I don’t know if tumblr will allow it to be viewed in full resolution, but there are so many details put in (which I am so so so amazed by after writing what amounted to a messy illustrated essay of absolutely nonsense for references).

The volume and wave to his hair!  But perfectly combed!

HIS FACIAL HAIR.  THE PERFECT MOUSTACHE.  THIS IS WHAT I ALWAYS WANTED.  BIOWARE, PLEASE TAKE NOTE.  THIS IS GOOD FACIAL HAIR THAT YOUR CHARACTER CREATOR CONTINUALLY DENIES ME.

His perfect cheekbones!  His noble jaw!  AND JUST LOOK AT HIS MOUTH, BECAUSE THIS IS IMPORTANT.  Quinn has a thin upper lip which is a major reason why he has a moustache (to try and compensate/balance it out/hide it).  You can see it so well here, BUT ALSO if you look closely you’ll see the slight upturn at the corners of his mouth.  Yes he’s smiling here, but it’s a subtle detail that is ALWAYS THERE and makes his smiles seem so easy and carefree and Vja just brought that perfectly to life!

AND HIS EYES.  ARE YOU READY TO GET LOST IN HIS EYES???  LOOK HOW BRIGHT AND FULL OF LIFE THEY ARE.  LOOK AT HIS PRETTY EYELASHES.  But then LOOK AT THE CROW’S FEET.  The crinkles that let you know this is a genuine smile (find you someone who looks at Cassandra the way Quinn does).  And the lines around his eyes to show his age!  We love an Inquisitor in his mid-thirties!

AND THE SCAR THAT SLASHES THROUGH HIS EYEBROW.  It’s perfectly subtle like a scar that old would be, but you can see it.  It’s there.  Not distracting, but there.  Did I ever mention it anywhere?  I’m not sure.  But when he was around 8 and only just starting out learning the bow, he strung it too tight, the bowstring snapped and whipped him across the face.  It missed his eye, by left a gash through his brow which left a permanent scar.  AND HERE IT IS.

The inclusion of his pipe AND THE SMOKE that curls up and around amidst the lighting.  Look at this motherfucker!  He deserves a fancy frame on a wall!

AND YEAH, HOW ABOUT THAT OPEN JACKET.  His clavicle gets mentioned so much in smut and now you see why.  This is made even better by the fact that once I recovered from how he had his shirt open (TOO POWERFUL.  HE IS TOO POWERFUL THIS WAY.), I realized he was in the formal Winter Palace jacket.  The shoulder accent caught my eye and I realized it was the version I had redesigned and I cannot tell you how much seeing it made me go, “Oh, it really is a good design!”

I just need to go lie down.  I love this.  I love everything about this.  I just want to stare at it forever.  And I need you all to see it and appreciate it because honestly, I think this might be one of their best works of art yet!

[lcdrarry]

LCDrarry 2021 Master List

Dear lovely Participants, Creators, Alpha and Beta Readers, Commentors, Cheerleaders, Readers and Fans of our fest,

Our 3rd installment of LCDrarry is coming to an end, and we'd like to thank you all for taking part in our little fest, for creating so many amazing new Drarry works for us all to enjoy, for commenting on your favourite creations, for sharing and recommending the LCDrarry gems with your friends and blog followers, and for making this fest another amazing experience for everybody!

You can find out under the cut who created what ;D

~Your LCDrarry Mods Tami ( @celilasart​ ) and Suzi ( @erin-riwen​ )

PS: Please have a look at the author notes and tags on AO3 for additional information and more detailed warnings.

PPS: As always, reblogs are very much appreciated to promote all the wonderful works of LCDrarry.

Thank you! :)

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Podfic

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[Podfic] Harry Potter And The Disorder Of The Phoenix

Title: "Harry Potter And The Disorder Of The Phoenix" Written by: postjentacular Read by: @porcelainsalt​ | bluedreaming (AO3) Word Count: 1,304 words / 8 minutes Rating: General Warnings: none

Summary: An exasperated werewolf-slash-professor, a decidedly not-dead drama queen, a brat, and a straight white man settle down to watch a movie. It goes as well as you’d expect.

Listen to "Harry Potter And The Disorder Of The Phoenix" on AO3.

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Art

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[Art] At the Beginning (With You)

Prompt: "Anastasia", 1997, Don Bluth and Gary Goldman Artist: @zandragorin​ Art Medium: Digital Art Rating: Teen Warnings: none

Summary: It's one, two, three, and suddenly he sees it a glance.

View "At the Beginning (With You)" on AO3.

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[Art] Between Your Heart and Mine

Prompt: "Crimson Peak", 2015, Guillermo del Toro Artist: @kryptidfox​ Art Medium: Digital Art Rating: General Warnings: none

Summary: Auror Harry Potter is called to investigate barren and isolated Malfoy Manor, home to Sir Draco Malfoy. There, he finds forgotten secrets, lingering ghosts and perhaps even love.

View "Between Your Heart and Mine" on AO3.

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[Art] Fallen

Prompt: "Chocolat", 2000, Lasse Hallström Artists: @julcheninred​ & m4gOrtz Art Medium: paper, thread, chalk, ink Rating: General Warnings: Food, Depression, Clergy

Summary: As Père Harry passed the window of the chocolate shop early on Easter morning, he was shocked to discover the Comte de Malfoy, who had destroyed the shop's window display and fallen asleep in his grief and exhaustion.

View "Fallen" on AO3.

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[Art] I am only one side of a coin.

Prompt: "Merlin", 2008-2012 Artist: @digthewriter​ Art Medium: Digital Art in Photoshop Rating: General Warnings: none

Summary: The better side, obviously. Merlin/Harry Potter fusion. Harry as Merlin & Draco as Arthur.

View "I am only one side of a coin." on AO3.

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[Art] No Sweeter Innocence Than Our Gentle Sin

Prompt: "Romeo and Juliet", Shakespeare Artist: writingsbydestiny Art Medium: Digital Art Rating: General Warnings: none

Summary: Inspired by Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare starring Draco Malfoy as Juliet Capulet and Harry Potter as Romeo Montague.

View "No Sweeter Innocence Than Our Gentle Sin" on AO3.

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[Art] The Malfoy Family

Prompt: "The Addams Family", 1991, David Levy Author: @moondraconis​ Art Medium: Digital Art Rating: General Warnings: None

Summary: Harry and Draco have just got engaged. Now Harry has to sit for a family portrait with his weird new in-laws.

View "[Art] The Malfoy Family" on AO3.

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[Art] The Poet's Choice

Prompt: "Portrait of a Lady on Fire", 2019, Céline Sciamma Artist: @kairennart​ | Personaje (AO3) Art Medium: Digital Art Rating: General Warnings: none

Summary: On an isolated island in Brittany at the end of the eighteen century, Harry is commissioned to paint a wedding portrait of Draco without him knowing, since he refuses to pose. That means a lot of staring, and a lot of time together. Time goes by, and, inevitably, like everything in life, they fall in love. But Harry has to finish his painting, and Draco has to get married.

View "The Poet's Choice" on AO3.

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[Art] there are dangerous men about

Prompt: "The Legend of Zorro”, 2005, Martin Campbell Artist: @dragontamerdame | dragontamerdrarry (AO3) Art Medium: Digital Art Rating: Teen Warnings: None

Summary: Two wizards engaging in a vicious duel, but make it gay and sexy.

View "there are dangerous men about" on AO3.

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Fic & Art

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[Fic & Art] One More Lantern

Prompt: “xxxHoLiC”, 2006-2010 (anime)/2013 (live action) Author/Artist: vivi1138 Word Count/Art Medium: 8,373 words & Digital Art Rating: Teen Warnings: Smoking

Summary: Harry is plagued by spirits who seem intent on devouring him, and there’s only one place they can’t follow: a house hidden in wizarding London, belonging to Draco Malfoy. Harry didn’t intend to stay. He certainly didn’t foresee falling in love. Yet here they are. A slice of life where Draco is a sap, Harry buys ice cream, and spirits keep throwing their peaceful life into chaos.

Read and view "One More Lantern" on AO3.

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[Fic & Art] In the Shadow of Your Heart

Prompt: Howl's Moving Castle, 2004, Hayao Miyazaki Author: @fantalf​ Word Count/Art Medium: 854 words & Digital Art Rating: General Warnings: sectumsempra scars, memory loss

Summary: When the recluded ex-Death Eater Draco Malfoy finds Harry Potter wandering around the hills, with no memory whatsoever of who he once was, he and Teddy decide to welcome him into their little family.

Read and view "In the Shadow of Your Heart" on AO3.

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Fic

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[Fic] Paging Healer Twatwaffle

Prompt: "House M.D.", 2004-2012, TV-Series Author: @veelawings​ Word Count: 1,550 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: Mild dub-con and manipulation, but they’re already friends with benefits.

Summary: Healer Malfoy is an absolute wanker.

Read "Paging Healer Twatwaffle" on AO3.

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[Fic] (Let's Take Our Time) Just Moving Slow

Prompt: "Holidate", 2020, John Whitesell Author: Melacka Word Count: 1,886 words Rating: Teen Warnings: none

Summary: Harry and Draco have a mutually beneficial arrangement: automatic dates for all holidays and public events, no questions asked, no obligation, no strings. It all seemed like such a good idea when they started. Harry certainly never expected to develop feelings for Draco.

Read "(Let's Take Our Time) Just Moving Slow" on AO3.

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[Fic] Jurassic Drarry

Prompt: "Jurassic Park", 1993, Steven Spielberg Author: PhenomenalAsterisk Word Count: 1,941 words & Digital Art Rating: General Warnings: Unconventional disposal of dinosaurs; fanart includes graphic image of meat

Summary: An unflappable palaeontologist, a sexy chaos theorist, and a distracted palaeobotanist are called in to tour an eccentric billionaire's pet project.

Read "Jurassic Drarry" on AO3.

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[Fic] My Saviour Won't Stop Texting Me

Prompt: "Hercules", 1997, Ron Clements, John Musker Author: fwooshy Word Count: 5,012 words Rating: Teen Warnings: Texting fic

Summary: Long ago, in Ancient Greece, there was a man named Draco Malfoy who sold his soul to Voldemort. Tortured by his sins, he... oh, who am I kidding? This is a Hercules AU texting fic, not some Greek tragedy! Harry and Draco get together and everyone has phones in Ancient Greece. Please enjoy.

Read "My Saviour Won't Stop Texting Me" on AO3.

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[Fic] The Malfoy Family

Prompt: "The Addams Family", 1991, David Levy Author: floydig Word Count: 7,088 words Rating: Mature Warnings: All Addams Family Warnings Apply, Morbid and Dark Humor, Loving Horror, Mild Body Horror (fun), Carnivorous Plants, Blasphemy, Necromancy, Implied Sexual Content

Summary: The Malfoy Family is the Addams Family, and things are about to get interesting. Draco and Harry Malfoy are odd, intriguing, endearingly creepy, and completely and utterly infatuated with one another. This is going to be a fun one. Featuring deadly magical creatures as house pets, recreational use of Unforgivable Curses, hungry carnivorous plants, and plenty of mayhem in between. Also, the whole thing takes place at a Magical Multi-Purpose Store. The Malfoy Family goes shopping!

Read "The Malfoy Family" on AO3.

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[Fic] Love that Blinds

Prompt: "The Batman", 2004-2008, TV-Series Author: aminathescorpio Word Count: 7,245 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: Brief graphic descriptions of violence, dubious consent, gaslighting

Summary: When Draco Malfoy gets accepted to work as a psychiatrist in Azkaban Asylum, he finds himself caught in a complicated relationship with none other than Azkaban's most infamous resident: Harry Potter.

Read "Love that Blinds" on AO3.

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[Fic] Sesame Seeds and the Entire Spectrum of Human Emotion

Prompt: "The Proposal", 2009, Anne Fletcher Author: @bisexualronaldweasley​ Word Count: 9,530 words Rating: Mature Warnings: Nudity, Boat Incident, references to past abuse/neglect

Summary: Faced with exile, Draco pretends to be engaged to Harry Potter, who agrees to play along for Narcissa's sake. When they're forced to spend a weekend together celebrating the engagement with the Weasleys, they might try to kill each other, or... they might just fall in love. . Based on the movie The Proposal (2009), though you don't have to have seen the movie to understand the fic!

Read "Sesame Seeds and the Entire Spectrum of Human Emotion" on AO3.

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[Fic] Ghost

Prompt: "Ghost", 1990, Jerry Zucker Author: @maraudersaffair​ Word Count: 10,761 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: major character death (MCD), canon-typical violence, grief and mourning

Summary: When Harry is killed tragically during an Auror raid gone wrong, Draco does his best to move on. He's even a little cheered when Theo Nott starts pursuing him. Then Sybil Trelawney visits Draco.

Read "Ghost" on AO3.

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[Fic] all in good time

Prompt: "Groundhog Day", 1993, Harold Ramis Author: saltwatergarden Word Count: 13,054 words Rating: Mature Warnings: mentions alcohol

Summary: Draco Malfoy's life is boring and repetitive. He supposes he shouldn't complain, since that's better than sharing a house with Voldemort, or doing time in Azkaban. When he gets trapped in a time loop, however, he is forced to confront the routine he has fixed for himself, and try to break out of it. It isn't all bad, facing no consequences for his actions can be fun for a bit. But after he starts visiting the Auror Headquarters and having brief but remarkably pleasant conversations with one Auror Potter, he finally has the real motivation to break out of the time loop - something worth sticking around for.

Read "all in good time" on AO3.

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[Fic] Star Crossed

Prompt: "Romeo and Juliet", Shakespeare Author: GallifreyisBurning Word Count: 13,615 words Rating: Teen Warnings: none

Summary: Two Quidditch teams, alike in dignity, In fair Great Britain, where we lay our scene, From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. The Wimbourne Wasps and the Appleby Arrows have been bitter rivals for centuries. When a nasty brawl ends one of their Seekers’ careers, the teams need new blood to take up the slack and divert attention from the bad publicity. And who better to distract the press than the infamous Draco Malfoy and golden boy Harry Potter? Called back from successful careers abroad, the pair are once again to be pitted against one another in an epic feud. Too bad no one told them that before they started flirting…

Read "Star Crossed" on AO3.

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[Fic] The Slytherin Host Club

Prompt: "Ouran high school host club", 2006, Bisco Hatori and Takuya Igarashi Author: shushu_yaoi_lj Word Count: 14,377 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: explicit sexual content, scars, non-graphic mention of past abuse

Summary: Harry is simply looking for a quiet place to finish his Potions essay.It's a pity he ends up at the Slytherin Host Club instead. Or maybe it's a blessing in disguise, since he's had a crush on Malfoy since the beginning of his eighth year...

Read "The Slytherin Host Club" on AO3.

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[Fic] It is on the other side of my soul (where your name is written)

Prompt: "Call Me By Your Name", 2017, Luca Guadagnino Author: opaleopioid Word Count: 16,372 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: implied switching, rimming, anal sex, no age difference (HP canon-compliant age difference)

Summary: Harry’s having it all, now that the unpleasantries of being treated like a loose cannon is gone: the war is well over, and Voldemort is long dead. He’s made the choice to stay in B, an unplottable magical town in Northern Italy, whose protection wards had kept him in one piece at the height of the second wizarding war, and whose seclusion provides him with the quiet, normal life that he now lives. Harry adores the grassy hills that enclose B like the warm arm of a mother; Likes playing the grand piano from dawn to dusk; Cherishes his current life, on the whole. He gets himself Mocaccino every morning and sometimes has dinner with the Weasleys at their cottage nearby. With the majority of his friends and family falling in love with B and gradually settling down as well, Harry feels like this is the last place he would ever want to leave. To say that the arrival of a certain wizard—a razor-sharp, infuriating blond—makes anything remotely different for Harry would be absurd, of course.

Read "It is on the other side of my soul (where your name is written)" on AO3.

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[Fic] In Search of Our Better Selves

Prompt: "Mad Max: Fury Road", 2015, George Miller Author: alrespirar Word Count: 17,519 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: Mentions of past torture, mentions of past rape, brief mention of miscarriage, descriptions of gun violence and injury. Sexual content.

Summary: Five times Imperator Draco saved Potter’s life and the one time Potter saved his.

Read "In Search of Our Better Selves" on AO3.

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[Fic] Where in the World is Draco Malfoy?

Prompt: "Carmen Sandiego", 2019, Series Author: Anaxandria Word Count: 18,029 words Rating: Mature Warnings: Minor mentions of homophobia, violence, and blood

Summary: After the war, Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter took parallel paths of fighting crime. Draco discovered the existence of VILE, an international organisation dedicated to the eradication of Muggle-borns. With the help of his best friend, Blaise, he commits international capers to steal artifacts before VILE can get their hands on them. Harry is the auror investigating the heists, but his instincts tell him there’s more than meets the eye.

Read "Where in the World is Draco Malfoy?" on AO3.

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[Fic] My Fair Gentleman

Prompt: "My Fair Lady", 1964, George Cukor Author: emilattes Word Count: 20,766 words Rating: Teen and up Warnings: light alcohol use and mentions of child neglect by Dursleys

Summary: After an extended stay at Charlie's Dragon Reserve in Romania, Harry returns to London and makes a fool of himself at his first Ministry Gala. Minister Shacklebolt orders Harry to seven months of etiquette lessons with Draco Malfoy. Will Harry pull through and become an expert in PR? Will Draco manage to make over the biggest PR disaster the wizarding world has seen in years? Wouldn't it be loverly?

Read "My Fair Gentleman" on AO3.

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[Fic] saying yes (instead of no)

Prompt: "Schitt's Creek", 2015, Series Author: Pineau_noir Word Count: 21,022 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: canon typical alcohol and drug use, marijuana use, explicit smut

Summary: “It’s a general store that’s also a very specific store,” Draco grumbled. “Most people won’t realise this, but I want to market Muggle goods to the Wizarding world as well. I want something that will help boost the economy of the Hamlet and Muggles have so many amazing things we don’t have.” . Draco sighed again. “I think it would benefit everyone.” He glared at Emily. “But there’s not a single witch, wizard, or wix who will shop at a place owned by Draco Malfoy.” . “What if it’s owned by Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy?” Potter asked. . “That would be preposterous,” Draco mumbled. “Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy would kill each other before the store opened.” . “What if you didn’t?” Emily asked. Draco opened his mouth to let her know, they would indeed kill each other, but before he could say anything, she continued, “What if it turned into a lovely business?” . “There’s only one way to know,” Potter said. “I really think this is a good idea, Draco."

Read "saying yes (instead of no)" on AO3.

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[Fic] A First Look Into Resurrecting Mummies With the Aid Of the Chosen One, and Why It Should Be Advised Against (an Essay by Draco Malfoy, Assistant Archaeologist)

Prompt: "The Mummy", 1999, Stephen Sommers Author: @cibeewastaken​ | Cibee (AO3) Word Count: 21,948 words Rating: Mature Warnings: minor violence elements

Summary: Draco hopes to find an ancient spell book rumoured to be in Hamunaptra after Astoria found a map to the lost city. If he makes this discovery, maybe the Magical British Museum will finally look at his application, and his annoying colleague will finally leave him alone. It’s a good plan, until Draco is reunited with Harry Potter for the first time in ten years, as the man is about to be hanged.

Read "A First Look Into Resurrecting Mummies With the Aid Of the Chosen One, and Why It Should Be Advised Against (an Essay by Draco Malfoy, Assistant Archaeologist)" on AO3.

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[Fic] Wicked Game

Prompt: "Jumanji", 1995 or 2017 Author: DearJames Word Count: 22,044 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: Sexual Content, Implied PTSD

Summary: Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy crossed a line during one of their late-night Astronomy Tower Bonding Sessions and neither are sure what that means. Not that they got particularly far, considering they were caught and assigned detention for their antics. And, now, they've been sucked into a boardgame. That's just fantastic...

Read "Wicked Game" on AO3.

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[Fic] Love in Three Parts

Prompt: "Bridgerton", 2020, Series Author: static_abyss Word Count: 24,172 words Rating: Mature Warnings: Canon-typical content

Notes: Thanks so much to my beta, L, for all her help and her encouragement as I wrote this fic. Thanks to the mods for hosting this fest and to the Anonymous prompter who inspired this fic.

Summary: Draco has everything needed to be the diamond of the season. He has the looks, the pedigree, and if he should be short on the money end, well, it isn't up to him to convince anyone they want to marry him. And yet, he finds himself with no prospects and no suitable matches until Harry James Potter, Wizarding Britain's Most Eligible Bachelor, makes his first appearance in proper Wizarding society for the first time in five years. Together, they hatch a plan to secure Draco a husband and keep the debutantes' mothers away from Harry. And if someone should develop feelings along the way, well, the course of true love never did run smooth.

Read "Love in Three Parts" on AO3.

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[Fic] He would always win the fight

Prompt: "Killing Eve", 2018 - ongoing, TV Series Author: Akira-kun Word Count: 26,578 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: Serial Killer, Off Screen Murders, Corpses, Political Polarity, Corruption in Government, Corruption in Justice System, Off Screen Violence, Post War Instability, Ambiguity, Dark!character, Vengeance, In a Twisted Way, Obsessive Behaviour, Crime Mystery, Open Ending

Summary: “But you were always just a puppet, weren’t you, Potter?” That voice kept haunting him, in his dreams and during his days, as if hovering over his shoulder, cold as a ghost, lost and lifeless. He wasn’t sure why it hurt like that. Maybe because it was an ugly truth that Harry hoped no one would ever throw back in his face. Or maybe because it was Malfoy. . Killing Eve inspired Drarry where people are getting killed, Harry is getting desperate, Draco is too sexy for his own good, and all hell will break loose.

Read "He would always win the fight" on AO3.

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[Fic] Peaches & Cream And A Little Bit Of Acid

Prompt: "Modern Love", 2019, Series Author: shortie990 Word Count: 27,755 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: suicidal thoughts, mental health issues

Summary: In love there is no real hiding. You have to be pretty up front on who you are. The problem was though, Harry didn’t have a clue who he was one moment from the next.

Read "Peaches & Cream And A Little Bit Of Acid" on AO3.

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[Fic] Outwit, Outlast, Outplay

Prompt: "Survivor", 2000-ongoing, Series Author: Albuss Word Count: 30,976 words Rating: Mature Warnings: Brief homophobia, mentions of past health issues

Summary: Draco loves Survivor. Loves it. So when his job at the Dept. of Mysteries offers him the opportunity to go on as a contestant, he can't think of anything that could go wrong. He is sorely mistaken, but a little chaos turns out to not be such a bad thing. Featuring gratuitous descriptions of Survivor game-play, really jargon-y magical theory I got way too excited about, and Draco's best friend Isabelle being an absolute QUEEN.

Read "Outwit, Outlast, Outplay" on AO3.

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[Fic] Advantage Rule

Prompt: "The Queen's Gambit", 2020, Series Author: @ziezie13​ Word Count: 42,738 words Rating: Mature Warnings: Character death, Parental neglect, Brief references to eugenics, Sexual content, Mild homophobia, Alcoholism, Drug abuse

Summary: Draco's life has been struggle after struggle. He was exiled as a baby, his mother died, he was forced to live with muggles... Need I go on? Quidditch was supposed to be his escape, but how is he supposed to beat Victor Krum and take the world title if he can't even beat Harry Potter? ~No knowledge of The Queen's Gambit required~

Read "Advantage Rule" on AO3.

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[Fic] (This Will Be) An Everlasting Love

Prompt: #12 (also fulfils #6) | "While You Were Sleeping," 1995, Jon Turteltaub Author: @drarrelie​ & @janieohio​ Word Count: 45,139 words Rating: Teen Warnings: None

Summary: Life doesn’t always turn out the way we plan. That’s what Draco’s mother always used to tell him, but Merlin, who could have predicted how right she would be? A story about feisty dragons, loneliness, family, and friends — and finding love in places you least expect.

Read "(This Will Be) An Everlasting Love" on AO3.

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[Fic] In a Field of Chrysanthemums and the Woods

Prompt: "The Untamed", 2019, TV-Series Author: @outstandingmoralfiber​ Word Count: 83,399 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: None

Summary: Three notes, and yet they made all the difference. Draco could feel it, the slight magic and wavering notes, washing over him in a brief but calming wave that lit his soul and it was then that he knew that he was going to learn how to play this guqin no matter what. Little did he know that, like dominos, this one simple decision would diverge him onto a path he would've never imagined. - Wizarding world in the Untamed setting, (but you don't need to know anything about the Untamed). Drarry AU starting from Goblet of Fire. Rated E for the smut scene in Chapters 13 & 14, but is otherwise rated T.

Read "In a Field of Chrysanthemums and the Woods" on AO3.

***

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[snatched-subcon]

Important image #2

[sidespart]

The Fall of King Romulus part 4

Summary: Twin Princes Remus and Romulus are cursed at birth with Honesty and Obedience. When Romulus, who cannot disobey any order, is told to kill his brother the next time he lays eyes on him, he changes his name to Roman and runs away. Roman joins up with a misfit group of adventures and plans to never return to his homeland. But the fae have other plans for him...

Warnings (for whole fic not necessarily individual chapters): Violence, mind whammying/memory altering, curse of obedience related consent issues, references to sex, references to war related injuries/PTSD, references to child abuse/neglect (YMMV on that one but just in case), antagonstic-but-not-exactly villian!Janus, Extremly-moraly-dubious-but-not-exacty-unsympathetic-Remus

Pairings: Mostly Platonic LAMP and all the found family feels. Could be read as pre-slash.

Feedback appreciated.

NOW ON AO3 :D

Prologue     Chapter 1   Chapter 2  Chapter 3

“I will grant them handsome features and beguiling voices,” the maiden whispered, her own voice dripping with honey “that all who great them will be blessed from the meeting.”

“I told you it wouldn’t work!” Remus grinned smugly when Romulus was deposited back in in their room, their nanny shutting the door firmly behind him.

“Urghh.” Romulus whined as he hurled himself face first onto Remus’ bed, making his giggling brother bounce from the impact. “But it should have! It always does in the stories!”

What was the point of having a twin, Romulus wondered if they couldn’t even switch places to get him out of boring geography lessons?

Remus poked him until Romulus rolled over onto his side to pout at his brother.

“It’s because I’m better lookin’ than you.” Remus told him cheerfully.

Romulus thwacked him with a pillow. “We’re identical!”

“Doesn’t matter,” Remus grabbed a second pillow from the floor, “I’m still the cute one!”

“Are not!”

“Are too!”

“Are not!”

“Are to – oof!”

The pillow fight soon descended into a wrestling match, their shrieks and giggles echoing through the bed chamber.

Eventually they ran out of breath and Remus flopped back down on the bed, his legs hanging over the edge. Romulus collapsed on the floor amongst the fallen pillows, batted Remus’ foot away from his face and gazed up at the family portrait hanging above their fire place.

They were identical. The artist had taken care to draw the crown prince a little bigger than his brother, closer to the forefront of the picture, but even so; their hair, eyes, nose - everything was the same.

Romulus glanced up at his brother, who was currently digging snot out his nose with every sign of enjoyment. Romulus gagged. They were not the same -Remus was gross!  

Except.

Everyone said what a handsome young man Remus was growing up to be. How brightly his eyes sparkled.  How confidently he held himself, even as a child. They never said that stuff about Romulus.

Remus shone, even when he was being gross.

“Your voice is better.” Remus said suddenly, snapping Romulus out of his sulk.

“What?”

“Your voice.” The older twin lent over the bed, staring his brother in the eye “It’s nicer than mine, ‘specially when you sing.” Romulus beamed, showing off his gap toothed smile. Their parents had hired teachers to drill both boys on the lute and harpsicord, but Romulus’ talent for singing was all him.

“You think so?”

“Yeah.” Remus smiled back at him. He’d lost a baby tooth that week too – one of his canines, giving him lopsided fangs. “And you’re way better at crying.”

“What! Well – your feet are stinker!”

“You’re worse at pranks!”

“Well you’re worse at fencing!”

“But l I’m the best at tickling!” declared Remus and leapt from the bed, pinning Romulus with his knee whilst his fingers attacked his brothers armpits.  The younger prince’s peals of laughter and cries for mercy were so loud nanny came rushing back to check on them, finding the future rulers of Notaleveale wrapped around each other on the floor, covered in dust and wearing matching smiles.

“I will grant them strength and creativity.” The mother smiled, she had a thousand eyes and all of them twinkled under the halls many candles “so that their rule will never be questioned.”

“Lord Venchi?”  Romulus asked.

The royal treasurer, normally one of the more composed members of his father council, was pacing the entrance hall alone, what little hair he had left sticking up in all directions as he tugged at it.

“Oh, Your Highness!” The he gasped when he caught sight of Romulus, “oh thank goodness! He-“

Romulus sighed. “What has my brother done now?”

Romulus had spent the morning on a rare visit into town, missing the days council meeting. It was completely unfair -  Romulus attended meetings almost daily, under Julius supervision, as part of his training to one day take over managing whichever aspect of the kingdom bored the future King Remus the most. They were mind numbingly dull sessions and it was only Julius’ steady glare that kept Romulus’ eyes open and his face attentive.

But today, visitors from the far south were attending. Which meant the session might actually be interesting. Which meant Remus got to go, and Romulus was immediately barred from entry. Instead, his father had asked him to represent the family at the ceremonial graduation of the latest batch of city watch recruits. So, instead of hearing tales from beyond the kingdoms borders, he had spent most of the day on a podium waving dispassionately at a crowd of braying onlookers.

It was always daunting, being around so many common folk. They lacked the decorum of the nobles at court. Whilst most seemed content to gape and sigh at him from a distance, there was always one who would shout out ‘my prince, look at me!’, ‘come here!’, ‘kiss my baby!’

Even with his fathers voice ringing in his ears – “no matter what you hear, stay by your guards side until you are back in the palace.” – Romulus had spent the day tense and unhappy, pinpricks of pain dancing in his skull. By the time he was allowed to speak he had quite forgotten his prepared speech and been forced to make up a quick poem on the spot. The crowd had seemed happy enough – the watch captain had tears in his eyes - but he knew neither Julius or his parents would be happy with his improvising once his guards had reported in.

He had hoped to get a few hours alone before the inevitable lecture, and were it anyone else he might have tried to sneak by without getting pulled into whatever chaos Remus had caused.

But Venchi was an old ally, one who had served his father wisely for years and who always took the time to compliment Romulus on his few measured contributions to the councils discussions, or to explain carefully any point he had missed.

He had also seen Remus at council. There shouldn’t have been anything left that the older prince could do to shock him to this extent.

“He-“ the old man looked like he couldn’t quite believe his own words, “He flipped the table.”

Romulus stared at him. The council table was ancient and enormous, made of a stone so old it’s real name has been lost. Moving it was impossible, the palace had practically been built around it.

“The Arkazeii  ambassador is being seen by a healer.” Venchi continued, “but I believe his foot Is broken, I-“

The side door behind them slammed open suddenly, crashing into the wall with enough force to make the hanging portraits shake. “I said.” Remus roared, a snarl on his handsome face, “Leave me alone!”

His voice was so forceful Romulus found he had taken three steps towards the main door before he stopped himself, face flushing. The order hadn’t been meant for him. Julius, who had clearly been chasing after the young crown prince, was now openly glaring down at Remus, two spots of colour high on his cheeks.

“Your highness I must insist-“

“Seriously?” Remus cackled, “You’re insisting?  Juju, honestly, I am not interested in what you have to say.” He barred his teeth at the King’s advisor, eyes wild,  “If my father wants me he can come get me himself but if not you can go and -oh.”

“Hello Remus.” Romulus sighed, giving the shortest bow he could get away with, “I hear your meeting went well.”

Remus eyes narrowed “Hello Romy, have fun getting your butt kissed in town?” he slug his arm around his brother’s neck, adopting a high pitched, sing song tone in apparent impression of the townsfolk “Oh Prince Romulus, you’re sooo clever and handsome and perfect. Won’t you pretty please sign an autograph and let me suck your di-“

“Your highness, please!” Venchi looked disgusted “There is no need for vulgarity.”

“Aww hey Vee! Wow, your hair is really going, you know the balder you get the more you look like my ballsack? Romy – I’m serious, picture him with two heads”  he held up his thumbs and index fingers and positioned them in front of the red-faced treasurer like a frame “I can’t be the only one that sees this.”

“You are.” Romulus snapped, shrugging his brothers arm off of his shoulders, “Did you really break the Arkazeii ambassadors foot?”

“The Arkazeii ambassador deserved it.” Remus snarled, good humour vanishing instantly. “They want to dig up Orenlla till it’s hollow. Use the rock to turn their sky black. Have you heard the stories outta that place? All the chickens are dying, ’s a travesty.”

“The chickens are- what? Just. Whatever. Not liking his trade ideas doesn’t mean you can hurt him!”

Remus eyes were always sparkling. Like a man on the brink of madness. “I can do whatever I want little brother.” He grinned at him with too many teeth, “you should try it sometime.”

“Your sons have all the makings of rulersss” the final fae smiled, her one golden eye glinting in the depth of her cloak. “My gift is for you. I give your children honestly and obedience.” She smiled sweetly, “May they bring you joy.”

“Your father is sick” Julius told him.

I know that Romulus thought but didn’t say. Watching the old man carefully.

They were in Julius practice room, at the top of the northmost turret, where Romulus had spent so much of his childhood.

“There is of course, still hope. And we have the finest healers, from every corner of the Kingdom.” Julius was pacing as he spoke, wringing his hands. It was profoundly odd, to see the old man so unsettled. But he had known Romulus’ father from when they were both boys. He loved him, as much as he was capable of loving anyone, and he loved the kingdom that he helped rule.

So Romulus found he wasn’t as surprised as he should have been with what Julius said next.

“Your brother cannot be allowed to take the throne.”

Since Romulus curse had been recognised, his parents had taken great pains to limit the brothers’ interactions, for both of their safety.

Remus could not keep a secret.

Remus was honest. He was honest at their mothers funeral when he’d announced to the mourners that she was ‘a bitch by anyone’s definition’ and honest later than evening when he’d sobbed into Romulus’ shoulder and cried that he would miss her.

He was honest when he announced to Romulus causally, over are rare shared meal, that he dreamed about killing him. “I’d do it with a morning star” he told him, slapping his spoon down onto the head of a roasted tomato and watching the red pulp fly about his plate. “Just like that.”

He was honest when he forced his way into Romulus’ room at night, shook him awake and told him, shaking, that the palace was haunted. That voices whispered to him from every corner - so loud that he couldn’t sleep.

He was honest when Romulus asked him, baffled, why are you telling me this. “I trust you.” Remus admitted, his voice thick, “You’re the only one I can trust.”

Just because he was honest, didn’t mean he was right.

Romulus gazed at Julius, his face carefully blank – a skill he had perfected over many council meetings.- and said “I don’t think you can order me to change our birth order.”

“No.” Julius smiled, and had the decency to look pained. “That’s not what I’m going to ask.”

In this room, Julius had tried every trick to strip Romulus of his curse. And when he failed, he’d dedicated himself to learning every possible way it could be exploited. In order to help protect him, of course.

“Sit there and listen to me until I finish.”

If Romulus didn’t hear an order in full, even if he could guess it, it could be ignored. As a child he’d sometimes escape his teachers simply by running away before they could give him the next task.

“The next time you lay eyes on your brother, kill him. Ensure no one can trace it back to you.”

Vague orders were still orders, and often more effective than those that were too direct. If he couldn’t prevent someone from seeing him, then he would have to kill the witness too in order to obey the instructions in full.

“Let no one know you did it. Tell no one of our conversation”

There was, by now, a long list of things Romulus was forbidden from talking about. It was one of Julius’ favourite orders to give.

“If anyone contradicts this order, ignore them.”

Contradictions were tricky. Normally the most recent order would take precedence, but often enough once the newer order had been completed, the old one would return.

“Do you understand me, Price Romulus?”

Romulus nodded and some of the tension left Julius’ shoulders.

He smiled at Romulus then, and lent over the bush back a strand of hair that had fallen across the young man’s face. He left his hand on Romulus cheek and gazed at him like he really was a kindly old mentor and Romulus his favoured pupil.

“This year, it will be the rise of King Romulus. You will be a just and fair ruler. I’ll make sure of it.”

***

As the second son of a King, Romulus future had never been certain.

His parents discussed it often. He should have become a commander in the army, or a leader of the church or married off to a neighbouring princess and become king in his own right. With all options too likely to lead to discovery however, it had been decided he would stay home, construct a reputation of studious detachment and become his brothers distant advisor.

Help him. Protect him.

Like Julius protected them.

Instead, Romulus ran away and became Roman.

Roman was loud and confident and sprouted poetry and song without hesitation. He basked in the attention from crowds and flirted  with every pretty face who crossed his path. He worked and earned for himself and argued back with anyone who disagreed with him and never sat still if he could help it. He kept Romulus and his memories of home buried so deep sometimes he forgot he’d ever had another name.

Even so, there had always been, at the back of his mind, the paranoia of this day. When he would be found. Recognised. Forced back to Romulus life.

He just didn’t think when it happened it would be so embarrassing.

They’d reached a fork in the road. The Marquis paused and whipped his head from side to side, presumably checking for witnesses although it looked more like he was trying to shake water free from his ears. He stepped in front on Roman.

“You.” He enunciated slowly and loudly “Turn left. Okay? Le – e -e f -t”

Roman stared at him.                                  

He had been kidnapped by an idiot.

With great deliberation he rested all his weight on one foot and turned left. And then kept turning, spinning in a circle a few times until the Marquis hissed “no!” and grabbed his arm.

And then dropped it immediately, wiping his hand on his sleeve.

“You. Just – follow me, alright? This way.”

Roman rolled his eye but did as he was told.  The man could have just told him in the beginning to follow him to wherever their destination was, and Roman would have done so. There was no need to give him a new instruction every few paces. But if the Marquis – what was his first name? Romulus must have known at some point – didn’t know the ins and outs of his curse then Roman wasn’t going to be the one to tell him.

They continued on, the Marquis stopping every three feet to stare at him, or repeat some instruction, or glare at a crumpled map in his hands. Roman despaired. Romulus had had a crush on this man.

At first, Roman assumed he would lead him towards the Royal Palace and present his find to the Princess or to whatever other Notalevealian nobles were already here for the coronation. But instead he tugged him away from the wider streets, back down hill towards the main sprawl of the city.

“Where are you taking me, villain?” Roman asked after twenty minutes of marching “because I’m pretty sure we’ve passed that street lamp three times already.”

“Somewhere where your little friend won’t be able to help you.” the Marquis muttered, glaring at the lamp in question.

Roman felt his heart freeze. His friend?

He supposed it made sense. There was no conceivable way they could have been followed in the woods. Not without Patton or Virgil noticing. The Marquis must have spotted him in the market and followed from there, which means he would have at least seen Logan, perhaps the others too since he had been at the tavern…

Although why would a noble be at the Stevangie street market?

He tried not to let his anxiety show on his face, puffing his chest out and summoning his most haughty glare.

“Listen to me, lordling, if any harm should come to them I will personally-“

“Them?” The Marquis stumbled, map fluttering to the floor. When he spun to glare at Roman his eyes were enormous. “How many are there?”

Roman blinked, haughty glare ruined by his genuine confusion. “Erm,” he tried “lots?”

The Marquis audibly gulped, but before Roman could even attempt to interpret that the man’s face brightened, his gaze caught on something behind Roman. He smirked, some swagger returning to his step.

“No matter.” He said and grabbed Romans arm, dragging him towards a nondescript building in the centre of the street, unlocking the door and shoving the bard through.

It was a bath house. The back entrance, perhaps, but the damp in the air and smell of scented soap was unmistakable.

Roman tried, in his sleep-deprived, underfed, over-stressed state, to come up with a reasonable explanation for this.

He had nothing.

“Why-“

“Shut up” The Marquis snapped. “Walk that way.” He pushed Roman down a long corridor, past arched doorways through which he caught a glimpse of the bathhouse proper, and into a dusty looking stairwell. He had produced a candle from somewhere, but the dim light did very little to illuminate anything as they gingerly picked their way down.

When they finally reached the bottom floor Roman squinted to see boxes and crates of empty bottles– a storage room? But he had no time to take it all in before he was being dragged through another pair of doors. Two more rooms and another set of stairs later and the Marquis finally stopped.

The room he’d led them to was hot and humid. Sweat dripped down Romans nose after only a few seconds. At first he couldn’t work out what the noise that filled the room was, until his eyes adjusted enough to see the tubes running from the floor to ceiling.

“You’re lucky to see this.” The Marquis had to raise his voice over the rush of running water to be heard “This room is a modern miracle – the lifeblood of the city!”

Steveange’s heated bath houses were famous. So much so even Virgil had heard of them, and he seemed to take pride in knowing nothing about the outside world. Roman had assumed the city must have been built on hot springs or some other natural source, but this was something else.

“The furnace is below us.” The Marquis explained, as he propelled Roman towards the back wall. “The pipes bring water from the river, it’s heated and pumped up and out to every bathhouse in the city.”

He grinned with something like pride as he tapped one of the  pipes above Romans head, making it sing, “Arkazeii engineering and Orenllan iron. Lined with Orenllan copper of course…give me your jacket.”

“But. Notaleveale doesn’t trade it’s ores” Roman blinked rapidly, trying to remove the sweat from his eyes, as he shrugged out of his jacket.

Jacket was a generous term – it was a silken red thing, better suited to performances than travelling. But he enjoyed the way it billowed as he walked. The Marquis took it and without so much as a moments respect for the garment, ripped one of the sleeves clean off.

“Hey!”

“You’ve been away a long time.” the Marquis snarled, “you little fae touched traitor.”

Roman gaped at him, even as the man grabbed his right arm and began attempting to tie it to the nearest pipe.

“I used to look up to you” the Marquis continued, “you were everything a Prince should be. But you betrayed your father and put a curse of madness on your brother - all because of your own petty jealousy!”

He squeezed Romans wrist with enough force to leave bruises. And stepped back to admire his handywork. The silky material had no grip and it was painfully obvious the man was not used to getting his hand dirty. The resulting knot looked more like a bow. “You are no prince of mine.”

“Lucius.“ Roman knew he’d known his name. “That’s not true. That’s- that’s not even a clever story! Who came up with that?”

“Shut up.” Some of the panic from the journey had come back to Lucius’ eyes but it faded quickly “And don’t think you can scare me with my name, there is more iron in this room then anywhere else in the city.”

He grinned at Roman nastily. “Your little friends aren’t coming to save you.”

Roman stayed quiet, mind whirling. They thought Remus was cursed?

Well. He was. But not in the way Lucius seemed to believe.

They wouldn’t send a mad man to another kingdoms coronation would they? Had the seller actually been certain Remus was coming?

Tied up, exhausted and with a man who seemed to hate him glaring down, Roman started to giggle in giddy relief.

Lucius stepped back, looking unsettled, before reaching out, roughly grabbing Romans chin and shoving the remnants of his jacket into his mouth. “Stay here,” he told him, slowly and clearly “until I come back with your transport.”

He stood, taking the candle with him to the door. He paused for one moment before leaving, the flickering light illuminating a cruel smirk. “You had better hope I can arrange it before the furnaces come back on.” And he was gone.

Roman glanced above himself into the darkness, where his wrists were strapped tight to the currently cool metal. A rush of fear went through him, finally bringing him down from the giggling hysteria.

Alone In the dark, tried to think.

Roman was a bad friend. He lied to his companions as easy as breathing and took his own fears out on them.

Romulus was a bad prince. He had abandoned his kingdom and his subjects and allowed some sort of conspiracy to spring up in his wake.

But he was a good brother. Remus was alive. And he would stay that way.

After all, this afternoon he thought that Remus was here. That he would have to confront his past, escape the city, evade every member of the Notalevealian court and his  own friends and steal a horse.

Now all he had to do was get out of this basement and outwit one idiot who could barely tie knots and hadn’t even thought to pat him down to check for hidden daggers.

Easy-peasy he thought, his eyes fluttering closed as exhaustion finally overtook him.

Part 5

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers Zero Vol. 12 Azusa Mukami [Track 2]

Original title: 鋭利な切っ先

Source: Diabolik Lovers Zero Vol. 12 Azusa Mukami [CD not owned by me]

Audio: Here

Seiyuu: Kishio Daisuke

Translator’s note: In the other Zero CDs, it really did feel as if the boys were fighting ‘themselves’ because the voices were almost exactly the same aside from a slightly echo added to the ‘fake’ version. However, Azusa sounds so different when he’s actually talking normal/upbeat, it feels like his enemy is an entirely different person instead. xD I actually really like his normal voice too, especially all the little giggles and noises he makes. It’s a shame he never talks like that in the main series. 

Track 1 ll Track 2 ll Track 3 ll Track 4 ll Track 5

→  LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

Track 2: A Sharp Point

*Rustle*

“Ah...Woah...That startled me...This is my first time...seeing a painting step out of its canvas...Also he looks...just like me...”

( Ehe~ Do I? Fufu~ What a relief. I figured you’d get mad at me for borrowing your appearance without permission. )

Your eyes widen in shock. 

( Ah~ I wonder if I spooked the lady over there? You could say I’m the manager of this place! I don’t have a physical body, so if I don’t do this, I can’t even talk to you guys. )

“A manager without...a physical body...Ah! M-My sincere apologies for entering this place...without asking. I accidentally dropped these drawings earlier as well...”

( Ahー Those sketches are amongst my personal favorites, so I was sad to see them being knocked over onto the floor. However, I happen to be in an excellent mood right now, so it’s all good. It’s been a while since we had visitors after all. On top of that...What a lovely scent. I’m sure you’ll make for an excellent meal. )

“...Eh?”

You flinch.

( Ah...Did I make you worried? Rest assured, she won’t be the only one, I’ll make sure you suffer the same fate. )

“W-What do you mean...? Are you going to...eat us?”

( Yeah, that’s right. The large amount of portraits you saw at the entrance are all of visitors who met their end here. ...Once you’ve set foot inside this museum, you cannot make it back out alive. After the two of you have been consumed, I’ll display your pictures there as well~ )

“T-That’s...troubling!”

Azusa grabs hold of your hand.

“Eve, let’s run...!”

The two of you make a run for it.

*TIMESKIP*

“Haah, haah...T-To think he...eats his visitors...Haah, haah...We should have...never entered this place...Haah, haah...We have to hurry up...and get out of here...before the other me...catches up to us...! Haah, haah...Eh!?”

You suddenly come to a halt.

“What is...this...? A large butterfly is...pinned to the door...? Haah, haah...We can’t get out through here. Let’s look for another exit...”

The painting demon suddenly appears in front of them.

( ...Woah there~ )

“...!!”

( The large pin keeping that butterfly nailed against the door...It’s one of my favorites because of how thin and sharp it is. Even after being turned into a specimen, the butterfly keeps its beauty, so I’m sure the two of you would love to experience it as well? )

“...! I have...no intention of becoming a specimen...”

( Is that so? Then...I guess this will strike your fancy more? )

*Cling*

“...Ah!”

( Say...This knife is incredibly sharp, don’t you think? If you cut with it, lots of blood would come flowing out...It’d make for quite the show, don’t you think? Could I test it out on you guys? You don’t mind, do you? )

He steps closer.

“Y-You can’t...! Doing that to me would be one thing but...I won’t let you treat her badly! Ugh...”

Azusa steps in front of you to protect you.

“Why do you...eat...us visitors?”

( I mean, hunger makes you sad, right? )

“Even if you are...hungry...We won’t become your food...I’m begging you...Please give up.”

( I won’t be the one eating you! The museum is the hungry one after all. )

“...E-Eh?”

( Right, you don’t know, do you? In that case, I have to inform you! ...You see, this museum is a living creature. )

“A living...creature? ...This building is...alive?”

( It sure is! Therefore, you have to feed it! )

The fake Azusa walks up to you.

( Hm...This girl over here... )

*Sniff*

( Smells so lovely, I’m sure the museum will be thrilled. Fufufu~ )

“...! I-I won’t let you...! I definitely won’t hand her over!”

( Why? Why would you be so mean? Do you enjoy tormenting me? Fufu~ That’s not bad either, but right now I have to prioritize meal time... )

*Cling*

( I’ve been honing it well, so I’ll make sure it hurts a lot, okay~? )

*STAB*

“...Ah!”

You rush over to Azusa’s side.

“I-I’m...fine...I’m used to being...hurt after all...Ugh...”

He collapses.

*Thud*

“My body’s...”

( Fufufu~ This knife has been coated with poison, so you won’t be able to move for a while, you know? )

“Kuh...! Eve...Go!”

You shake your head.

“No buts! Just run...! I’ll be...fine, okay? So hurry up...”

He faints.

*Rustle rustle*

( Hehe~ He’s out cold. ...You’re up next, huh? Fufu~ Don’t worry! I don’t want to waste your blood, so I’ll only make a very light cut. ...Goodnight~! )

*SLASH*

*TIMESKIP*

*Cling cling*

( Ahー You’ve awaken? )

You mistake the demon for Azusa at first. 

( Oh no, I’m the portrait! The boy you were with...is next door~ It’d be troublesome if you were to run away, so I’ve crucified you both. (1) )

You try and free yourself from the restraints.

*Cling cling*

( Ah...Why are you screaming? Oh, right! You didn’t like this exhibition floor very much, did you? What a shame, all of these specimen are lovely after all. )

You frown.

( However...Right now, you’re one of them! You’ve also been pinned down, so you have to get along with the other artworks! )

*Cling cling*

( Haah...Why won’t you listen to me? Just look at how good the other works are! Ahー Right! You can barely wait, can’t you? I guess you want to become this museum’s prey as soon as possible! I’m sorry! Did I leave you waiting? I wanted to hurry up and move to dinner time as well. Good thinking, let’s do just that! )

You protest.

( How am I wrong? Don’t worry, I’ve already got everything prepared. Usually, I would just hurl the prey into the canvas whole. That’s how the museum eats them. )

Your face turns pale.

( However, I’m sure you have a special taste, so to ensure the museum gets to eat you at your best, I’ve decided to chop you up finely~ )

*Cling*

( Fufu~ This knife has a very thin blade, so it cuts extremely well. Don’t worry. I’ll properly cut you up! )

You start struggling again.

*Cling cling*

( Aah...! I can’t cut very well when you’re moving around like that...Hm...I suppose I’ll have to keep you in place with something? Oh! Right! )

The fake Azusa picks up a large pin. 

*Thud*

( If I pierce this large pin right through you, you won’t be able to move, huh? )

Your eyes widen in horror.

( Aah~ The tip is sharp and looks very painful, don’t you think? No matter how feisty the prey may be, when you stab them with this bad boy, they’ll behave in no time! Hmm~ Now where to stab you? Your belly, perhaps? )

*Cling cling*

( Ah...Don’t make a fuss. I won’t be able to pierce it through very well. Keep still, okay? )

*Cling cling*

( Hm...Didn’t you hear me when I told you to keep still? The pin’s no good either? )

*Thud*

( Ooh! Right! You wanted me to do this...didn’t you? )

He steps closer.

*Rustle rustle*

( You prefer fangs piercing your skin over a pin, right? )

You flinch.

( You seem delicious, so stopping your movements by sucking your blood would be better, no? Mmh~ Let’s do it like that then. )

He leans in.

( Hmm~ The upper arm...It’s so soft, I’m sure my fangs will just sink right in. I’ll plunge them in deep, okay? )

The demon bites you.

*Gulp gulp gulp*

( ...Haah! Woah! It’s my first time tasting such sweet blood! I only wanted to paralyze your movements, but now I want to suck you dry! ...I wonder how you taste in other places~? ...How about I bite your lips? It’s a tender spot, so I’m sure it’d be painful for you. Fufufu~ Your frightened expression...It’s very nice! Very much so! )

*Sluuuuuurp*

( ...Oh? Does it feel good? You like being hurt, huh? )

*Cling cling*

( Eeh~? Why would you lie? I mean, your eyes are watering. You’re actually eagerly awaiting this, aren’t you? Fufu~ The more painful, the better, no? Don’t worry, I’ll hurt you even more. You’ll be turned into prey soon, so I’ll give you my fangs wherever you want them. )

*Cling cling*

( Ah, ah, aaah...You’re wrists are all scraped up because you kept struggling. Say, does it hurt here? )

You cry out in pain. 

( Fufufu~ It hurts yet you seem happy. Perhaps I should bite right through the scraped skin~? Fufu~ Ah...I’ll loosen the chains just a little, okay? )

*Cling cling*

( There we go...Woah...Hohoho~ The skin has turned red and it’s bleeding slightly. Don’t worry. I’ll soothe it by giving you an even greater pain, okay? )

He bites your wrist.

*Sluuuurp*

( Haah...Hahaha~ Ah. It feels that good, huh? The more you resist, the richer your blood becomes. Fufufu~ Hm~  There’s a delicious smell wafting through the air~ Say...Give me more? You don’t mind, do you? )

*Rumble*

( Wah...!? What was that just now...!? )

*Rumble rumble*

( She’s in pain...Oh no! I have to hurry and rush to her side! )

The fake Azusa immediately moves away, running towards the door.

( Ah...! You stay put here, okay? I’ll make sure to chop you up once I’m back! )

He leaves the room.

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー 

Translation notes

(1) 貼り付け or ‘hari-tsuke’ applies that they are not simply tied up, but also hanging to something. The word is also used to refer to ‘Crucifixion’ after all. It isn’t specified what exactly you and Azusa are tied to, but I assume it’s a wall of some sorts? 

[ldwritesstuff]

Fallen Kingdom

Holy Shit this blog is alive, whaaaa?????

Anyways, I was scrolling around on @ingapotejtoo‘s Blog and I saw his recent drawing of a royal portrait and the rambles of an Anon there as well and it got me a-thinkin. So here is what I came up with. I hope you enjoy. 

“Tubbo you have to hold still,” The Captain laughed. 

“But I wanna go to the garden!” the youth named Tubbo whined. 

“The painter is almost done, just wait,” The Captain beamed. 

The child fussed a bit before settling back down. Portrait day meant getting dressed up in their finest attire and standing around for hours while the painter worked to capture their image. The prince of the kingdom, still a young child, wasn’t amused by this. He would rather be out playing nations or with the bees. The good king of this land, referred to as the Captain, smiled at the boy. Sure he kept a stern face for the portrait but how can one not smile at this kid? It had been a long time since the once mighty sailor had settled down here after finding the orphan Tubbo at sea. Granted he liked to argue that Tubbo was a gift from the goddess herself, the only explanation he believed in. 

“Alright, done!” the painter said, flipping the canvas around. 

The Captain and Tubbo looked to see the fine work of art. The Captain, dressed in royal red robes with gold accents stood proud. The golden crown sat on the king's head with the diamonds shining brightly. Around the Captain's neck had red and gold jewelry and a green and gold ring on his finger. Tubbo sat next to him on a stone pedestal with a green and gold necklace to compliment the Captains own. Tubbo even had his own little blue cape to match his father’s. Tubbo beamed in the portrait compared to the stone faced Captain. 

“Another job well done,” the Captain hummed. 

“Can we go play now?” Tubbo whined, clearly done with all the sitting around. 

“Let’s go get this hung up first and then we go and play before lunch,” The Captain answered. 

Tubbo smiled at that, hopping down from the stone pedestal. The servants grabbed the painting and marched it to the ballroom. The Captain followed with Tubbo holding his hand. The palace gleamed from a recent cleaning for spring. Being inside for most of the harsh winter months drove the little prince insane, much with the rest of the palace staff along with the child. The Captain took it all in stride with how rowdy he could get sometimes. Thankfully spring came around and now Tubbo could run around the estate and play in the sunshine. 

“How does this look your highness?” the servants asked as they hung it on the wall. 

“A little to the left and should be perfect. All who come and enter the grand ballroom can see it,” the Captain proclaimed. 

“It’s pretty Captain,” Tubbo said. 

“Indeed. Now then, I think the garden awaits us? After we change out of our serious clothes” The Captain said as he ushered the little one along.

“You get to be the bad guy this time,” Tubbo chirped. 

“Alright, but i’ll win this time,” The Captain smirked. 

Happy times 

-----------

A distant memory. 

The once great king walks among the ruins of a once mighty kingdom. Houses burned to the ground, the streets overgrown. Remains of a coup surrounded the king without a crown. The Captain let out a sigh as he pushed forward. His dark brown hair slightly disheveled from the journey here. The man swore to never return, the bitter taste the sight left in his mouth. He had settled down in this hidden valley to get away from the war and fighting. But his enemies reminded him of the path he took a long time ago. 

The remains of the castle stood on the hill, abandoned and lifeless. The worn warrior climbed the steps with his sword tapping his side. This place, once held life and joy, now a sarcophagus of lifeless and haunting memories. The night when it all fell still burned in his mind. All he knew is that he failed, he failed his subjects and more importantly, he failed the ones he loved. The reason for all of this glowed softly in his inner coat pocket. He had half a mind to chuck that thing into the nearest river and never see it again. But at the same time, letting the enchanted Eye of Ender fall into anyones hands but his own would bring about a greater end. 

Inside the crumbling castle walls, he gazed upon the torn gold and red banners. The Captain blinked slowly and continued along his way. The initial anger burned into a numbness that has lasted him years to today. At one point, he ended up in the ballroom and gazed upon a torn painting. The Captain’s face slashed out and the prince torn to shreds. He reached out, his hand brushing the remains of the canvas. They were happy, everyone was, and now many long gone. How alone the Captain is in these lands. 

The man made his way around the empty palace, everything destroyed and a bitter reminder of a different life. His room long gone, a fire had raged through there during the night of the attack. The prince’s room had been ransacked but he dared not to go in there, far too painful for him even to this day. So he continued, up and down the halls, searching for something and yet nothing. 

At one point The Captain found himself on the balcony, the one where he dived from after being cornered. How he got there in the first place, the memories all too vivid. 

There was an explosion, the little hand that was in his own disappeared. The Captain looked back to see rubble and fire. The people, no, monsters, who started this all began to swarm. A hot rage filled the Captain as he tried to push passed them, to get to his son, a chance to save him. But the attackers pushed back just as hard as he swung his sword. The Captain never cries, not for anyone. But the tears that flowed from his eyes as he screamed with every swing couldn’t be held back. 

He was out for blood. He wanted them to pay for getting his son killed, for invading his kingdom. But they were too strong and he was forced back. The Captain found himself cornered on the balcony. He saw the kingdom burning, the screams of his subjects rang out in his ears.  

“Give us the Eye of Ender and you might live,” one shadow hissed. 

“You attacked my people, burned my kingdom and killed my son, give me one reason why I shouldn't destroy it now?” The Captain growled. 

The people hissed in fury. Why should The Captain care? He lost everything all in one night. No, they won't take from him anymore. If they wanted this trinket so badly, they’d have to go through him now. After all, he had nothing left to lose. 

The Captain climbed onto the railing as they pushed forward. 

“Give it to us,” they hissed. 

The Captain smirked, a broken smirk. He looked at the people, the fire glowing in his eyes, any life void from them now. 

“Tell your master you have failed, long live the king,” The Captain said. 

The crownless king looked at them, gave them a two fingered salute and then fell backwards. Their cries of fury didn’t reach the Captain as the wind whistled past him, falling down, down, down. A few tears fell from his eyes as he plummeted to the ground. 

But the stop at the end wasn’t one he was expecting. The river that ran at the base of the castle caught the Captain and swept him away. The Eye of Ender, the curse that caused all of this, hummed and glowed in his pocket. 

The Captain took a deep breath in, giving his head a shake. He didn’t realize how tightly he gripped the old railing until the pain registered with him. His hand now slightly red, burned a little. Someday, someday he would take revenge but even after that, what is the point? Everyone is gone. His son is dead and his subjects either dead or scattered. No, this kingdom would remain in ruins, a reminder of dark forces and a once thriving place. The Captain turned away from the balcony and back into the castle.

Back at the entrance, his foot hit something. He looked down to see an old crown with the diamonds in it dulled from the dust. The night his kingdom fell is the night where he lost his crown and swore to never put it back on. The Captain didn’t deserve it. But he did pick it up and stashed it away in his coat. Maybe he still had an inkling of hope that things could return to normal. But those hopes dashed when he looked at the destroyed throne. 

“Never again,” he muttered and left the palace.

[hallucineugenics-a]

// (all makeup except bottom left who is gorgeous btw) ive been trying 2 find good reference 4 what i think donnas childhood scar over her eye was like. these are the closest sort of looks i could find. ones that are quite deep and disfiguring. i headcanoned that she was bucked off a horse and slashed her face open on a wire fence when she was 5 years old. it made the already shy donna insanely self conscious and she was bullied a lot over her appearance. that is why in her portrait it has been tastefully omitted. 

[gameofdrarry]

Wizards Hearts Recs: 12 Grimmauld Place Setting

Wizards Hearts was a four-month-long Drarry reading fest. Players were given a playing deck of 52 tropes, and were asked to find 52 different fics to read and comment on to fill their decks. To prevent the same few fics from being read, fics were restricted to only being used for the game three times before being considered ineligible for further points. The tropes and submissions list can be found here.

Check out the masterlist of fics for this trope below the cut!

📜 Colliding By Design by Asterie Rated:  Explicit Words:  21491 Tags: Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Interior Decorating, Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, Witch Weekly, Past Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Auror Harry Potter, Interior Designer Draco Malfoy, Hipster Wizarding London Summary:  Draco Malfoy has used his time under house arrest to launch a promising career in interior design, and Harry Potter has inherited a magical house in desperate need of renovation. It’s an age-old story, brought to you with a little “help” from Witch Weekly Magazine. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Only Ash Remains by Saulaie, shilo1364 Rated:  Teen and Up Words:  66870 Tags: Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Post-Hogwarts, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Slow Burn, Depression, Disability, invisible disibilities, Healing, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Slash, Grimmauld Place, Malfoy Family, Malfoy Family Feels, POV Harry Potter, Community: harrydracobang, Harry/Draco Big Bang 2018 Summary:  One year after Harry defeated Voldemort at the Battle of Hogwarts, he still has no idea what to do with his life. He’s been living at No. 12 Grimmauld Place with Hermione and Ron, but they’ve spent the past few months on an extended stay in Australia to try and restore Hermione’s parents’ memories. Alone, he feels set adrift. Everyone else is focused on enjoying their summer before Hogwarts reopens (after a one year rebuilding period), but without Ron and Hermione, Harry doesn’t know if he can go back. Everything changes when the Malfoys dramatically re-enter his life, and together they learn to live again. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 keep it down by warmfoothills Rated:  Explicit Words:  13657 Tags: Living Together, Housemates, omg they were roommates etc, Grimmauld Place, switching POVs, between the boys and ginny also gets a couple of interludes because we love her!, backyard quidditch, Yoga, Masturbation, references to draco/others, including blaise, not so accidental aural voyeurism, not so accidental aural exhbitionism, Clothes Stealing, shampoo borrowing, wall sharing, rugby and denial (harry), snobbery and slobbery regarding food (draco), Massage, a long hot summer, bit of breathplay, one small linny reference, it’s porn but i make you read 10k of faffing about first, an EXCESSIVE amount of parentheses, harry’s an idiot, draco’s only slightly less of an idiot Summary:  Malfoy’s an inconsiderately loud roommate and Harry’s over it. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 almost heaven by M0stlyVoid Rated:  Explicit Words:  12432 Tags: Sentient Magical House, Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, Malfoy Manor, House magic, Magical Theory (Harry Potter), Wizarding Culture (Harry Potter), Sex Magic, Rituals, Happy Birthday Tacky!!, Minor Character Death Summary:  Draco’s father dies. Harry’s house has a tantrum. When it turns out the two are related, Harry has to decide how far he’s willing to go to set his home to rights. And when Malfoy ends up looking like that, Harry finds he’s willing to go a lot farther than he ever thought he would. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 I could be wrong, I could be ready by harryromper Rated:  Mature Words:  57343 Tags: Post-Hogwarts, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Post-Second War with Voldemort, POV Alternating, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Angst with a Happy Ending, Pining, Romance, Gringotts Wizarding Bank, wizarding houses, House magic, Magic, Families of Choice, Pureblood Culture (Harry Potter), Wizarding Traditions (Harry Potter), Magical Theory, Brooklyn, Roller Coasters, Socks, Quidditch Player Ginny Weasley, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Minor Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley, Minor Hannah Abbott/Neville Longbottom, Professor Neville Longbottom, Curse Breaker Bill Weasley, Headmistress Minerva McGonagall, Godric's Hollow, Hogwarts, Grimmauld Place, H/D Erised 2018, Community: hd_erised, Lovers to Friends Summary:  At first Harry wonders if they’ve managed to destroy his vaults and are trying to tell him in the most oblique way possible. But when he turns the page he realises they’ve found a vault. A vault in the name of Lily and James Potter. The parchment trembles a little in Harry’s hand. He takes another gulp of wine. Harry Potter left Britain after the war and didn’t look back. Ten years later, when Gringotts discovers a vault containing his parents’ belongings—including their badly spell-damaged wedding rings—he’s forced to face up to friends and family who’ve grown in ways he could never imagine, a wizarding London rebuilt beyond his expectations, and the anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts. And if that wasn’t enough, there’s the entirely unforeseen problem of Draco Malfoy. Featuring pureblood wizarding traditions, ancestral magic, open mic nights, marriage equality, a diner in Brooklyn, and the return of Fleamont Potter. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Modern Love by tackytiger Rated:  Explicit Words:  61322 Tags: Draco Malfoy in the Muggle World, Slow Burn, Oblivious Harry Potter, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, idiots to lovers, Politics, Ministry of Magic (Harry Potter), Songfic, Friendship, Found Family, Mentions of Cancer, References to Illness, Chemotherapy, references to canonical child abuse, references to canonical deaths, References to Depression, Drunkenness, Sad Harry Potter, Church Services, Hymns, Atheism, Kissing in Church, Religious Discussion, Light Angst, Boxing & Fisticuffs, Minor Injuries, Blood and Injury, Gay vicar, Original Character(s), Original Character Illness, Magical Theory (Harry Potter), Scars, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Minor Draco Malfoy/ Sexy Tall Vicar, Draco Kisses Someone Briefly That's All I Promise, Magic/Muggle Relations, Jealousy, Family Drama Summary:  Harry Potter, of all people, knows that life isn’t always fair. And no one gets to be happy all of the time. But surely there’s something more—something better—than a rubbish Ministry job, and a lonely old house, and that feeling that everyone out there is doing a better job of living than Harry is. And it really doesn’t seem fair that Draco Malfoy is back in Harry’s life, all of a sudden, and even though he’s wandless, and living with Muggles, and making his mother cry with his lifestyle choices, he’s happy. So what's he doing right, that Harry isn’t? Because things don’t really change, do they? And if Harry can’t be happy, he’ll settle for a good night’s sleep, some posh antiques, and the opportunity to find out what Malfoy has been up to for all these years. And that’s what starts it all. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 In Every Universe by skeptique Rated:  Mature Words:  27179 Tags: Dubious Consent, More Detailed Warning in End Notes, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Post-Hogwarts, Post-War, Several Dracos Malfoy, depiction of mental health issues, Depiction of Anxiety Attacks, Brief Mentions of Drowning (in a dream), Mystery, Multiverse, Parallel Universe, Canon Content Warnings Apply, Moral and Ethical Quandaries Abound, Implied Drug Use, alcohol use, Smoking, Biracial Harry Potter, Black Hermione Granger, Minor Character Death, A Very Light Sprinkling of Smut Summary:  They sent Professor Harry Potter to search for Unspeakable Draco Malfoy. Draco has stolen a Firebird, an experimental magical device from the Department of Mysteries that lets you enter parallel universes as yourself. As Harry traverses from universe to universe, he begins to think Draco might be the one searching for him. A story about whether knowing what's possible makes it possible. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Haunt the corner of my eye by harryromper Rated:  Teen and Up Words:  23358 Tags: Post-Hogwarts, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Post-Second War with Voldemort, Mystery And Angst With A Happy Ending, Auror Harry Potter, Student Draco Malfoy, Healer Luna Lovegood, Wizarding Politics (Harry Potter), Number Twelve Grimmauld Place Summary:  Harry’s life is very much on track. After a successful career as an Auror, he’s set to become the youngest ever Minister for Magic. But strange things are starting to happen at Grimmauld Place. Items he doesn’t recognise are appearing left and right, and somehow he never feels quite alone. There’s only one thing Harry knows for sure: it has something to do with Draco Malfoy. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Portrait of a Marriage by glitteringvoid Rated:  Mature Words:  130626 Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Marriage of Convenience, Marriage Proposal, Domestic Fluff, Developing Relationship, Relationship Discussions, Enemies to Friends to Something More, Lack of Communication, Self-Discovery, Self-Esteem Issues, Consent Issues, Internalized Acephobia, Ferrets, Bickering, Asexual Draco Malfoy, Touch-Averse Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter Can't Cook, Slow Burn Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy & Pansy Parkinson Friendship, Harry Potter & Ron Weasley Friendship, Minor Hermione Granger/Pansy Parkinson/Ron Weasley, Post-Hogwarts, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, H/D Sex Fair 2020, Dubious Consent Summary:  Harry didn't want to marry Malfoy, he really didn't, but he also does want this house and Malfoy looked so smug and well - now they are married, and the house still doesn't like him, and Malfoy only looks more smug. Draco didn't want to marry Potter, he really didn't, but he also does want this house and he never seems to be capable of escaping Potter anyway, so if he is already doomed to being married off he might as well decide for himself what he is worth, sign the papers and ignore everything wrong with that plan until physically no longer possible. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Litany by thistle_verse Rated:  Mature Words:  7170 Tags: Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Post-Hogwarts, Pandemics, Quarantine, Isolation, Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, Wizard's Chess (Harry Potter), Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Touch-Starved, Drinking, Draco Malfoy in Azkaban, Ghosts, Guilt, Lists, H/D Erised 2020 Summary:  With the wizarding world on lockdown due to a magic-draining pandemic, Harry is stuck in Grimmauld Place, bored and alone—until the ghost of Draco Malfoy shows up to haunt him. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Cleaning Up The Mess by Samunderthelights Rated:  Teen and Up Words:  3469 Tags: Drarropoly: Founders Edition - A Drarry Game/Fest, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Falling In Love, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, 12 Grimmauld Place Summary:  Harry has been hiding away at 12 Grimmauld Place, trying his best to clean up the place. He has fallen into a quiet and boring routine. But when Draco shows up at his door one day, asking for his wand back, that quiet and boring routine of his is about to be broken. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 The Grimmauld Christmas Curse by crimsonheadache, inspired_being, kitty_collab (kitty_fic), Ladderofyears, Vaysh Rated:  General Words:  2323 Tags: Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, Christmas Tree, Christmas Decorations, Aunt Walburga (portrait), Curse Breaker Draco Malfoy, Meme Insert Summary:  "I'm telling you, Hermione, the house is out to get me." Harry poured two cups of tea and passed one across the kitchen table. "Don't be ridiculous, Harry, it is not out to get you." Or is it? ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Distractions by pottergerms Rated:  Explicit Words:  2239 Tags: Grimmauld Place Summary:  Kingsley was not his friend. He was not a paperboy. And Harry Potter was definitely not the hottest thing alive. ❤️ Read on AO3

[eathotchp]

comprehensive list of tags

I’ve been using tags since the beginning. I love to pick one and go thru it! 

Categories are bolded. Each underlined word is a tag that links directly to the tag page on my blog. Most of the words are literally the tag name. Similar tags are grouped together and separated with a slash. They may be similar, but they are not the same. A description is provided for clarity for some tags, but others are self explanatory and thus do not have a description. This list is not exhaustive nor is it finished.

General

me/this is me/still me/tagged me

me too/same/mood/relatable/r e l a t a b l e/me at work - vibes that I relate to but not exactly

laughter actually - laugh out loud tag

gender of the day

life changing posts

this is so funny/I love this/I still love this/love/looove/fave/fav/best/save/save tag/wholesome/happiness/I love my friends/I love hugs

work of art - “the stars aligned perfectly for this to happen" and many contributed to it

poetic/so poetic/super poetic/nicely phrased/so nicely phrased - “these words sound so nice” in varying degrees

interesting/cool/cool stuff/super cool

childhood/younger self/past self/nostalgia

want/goals

Direct

that sound/those sounds/that face/that voice/looks so smooth/looks so soft/so round/so smooth/so soft/syn/texture/lines - synesthesia tags

dance/martial arts/fitness

film/movies for later/editing/animation

music/audio

photography/old phots

art museum

fashion/looks/outfits/runway fashion/historical fashion

flowers/plants

food

hair

scenery/street scenery

interiors/architecture

y2k - 2000s aesthetic

shop/presents/gift ideas - where you can buy stuff or find shopping inspiration

quotes

maps/infographics

quizzes

video/fid/tiktok

individuals/celebrities

parenting/pda/sap/relationships - advice, etc

dep/axy - mental illness tags

linguistics/languages - each language has its own tag, this tag is for general information

aries/horoscopes

bible stuff

outer space/science/physics

reblog - post booster tag, for donations, exposure, etc

satisfying/so satisfying/satisfaction/process

glow/not green glow - fluorescent pics

amazing/incredible/agreed/truly/good/haha/nice/wow/what/stop/tru/yes/yeah/ok/yo/.../..../??? - various general reactions to anything

so much/so pretty

Art tags/insp

poss a/insp/art insp/design/character design/aesthetic/close/colors/color palette/those colors/portrait/portraits/tattoos/drawing/drawn/art style/art styles/art/prints/webcomics/writing/writing prompts/tropes/stories

Specifics

reference/for later/when bored

hey thats today - posts/events/whatever that happened on this date

airdrop/save pic/save pics/one of those good internet photos - group chat material

tumblr - general cringe. culturally significant

lets go - lists of questions

performance art

misc/musc

reminder

tag viewer

analysis

this is america/dystopia/amreeka/capitalism/police state - “unistatians need a revolution” tag

receipts/history/untold history/the more you know

take on me/take me on/i’ll be gone - posts that go together are labeled by their respective line

black is beautiful/black lives matter/buy black/community - black tags

ser latinx - latino tag

sonora - indigenous tag

ace/lgbt/lgbtq - queer tags

Reminds me of...

Colombia, Germany, Mexico, Europe, the west, Italy, France, Toronto, New York

me

Fandoms

Anime: Cowboy Bebop/Fullmetal Alchemist, the manga, Brotherhood, 03/FLCL/Hunter X Hunter/Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure, manga scans/Mob Pyscho/Naruto/Neon Genesis Evangelion/One Piece/One Punch Man/Puella Magi Madoka Magica/Shingeki no Kyojin/Silver Spoon/Yu-Gi-Oh

Video games: Among Us/Animal Crossing, New Horizons/Assasin’s Creed/Cyberpunk 77/Kingdom Hearts/Earthbound/Kirby/Legend of Zelda, Breath of the Wild/Mass Effect/Metal Gear/Spider-Man: Miles Morales/Minecraft/Nintendo/Overwatch, Overwatch gameplay/Sonic/Street Fighter/Super Smash Bros, Melee, Ultimate

Movies: Studio Ghibli/Spider-Man: Into the Spider-verse/Star Wars

TV shows: Avatar: The Last Airbender, Avatar: The Legend of Korra/Invincible/She-Ra/Spongebob

Musicals: Hamilton/In the Heights

Pokemon: Pokemon Go/Pokemon manga/ribbon cards/not ribbon cards/Mystery Dungeon/RSE/HGSS/kanto/johto/hoenn/sinnoh/unova/fusions/warm

Fire Emblem

Other: Dungeons and Dragons/Kpop/Welcome To Nightvale/crossovers/neodoge

Animals

birds

bunnies

cats

dogs/shiba inu

horses

opossums

raccoons

sharks

snakes

wolves

my dog - posts that remind me of my dog

Years

2010 / 2011 / 2012 / 2013 / 2014 / 2015 / 2016 / 2017 / 2018 / 2019 / 2020 / 2021 / 2022 / 2023

Countries/World

India, Egypt, Haiti, you name it. Search for it in /tagged/

Colors

red / orange / yellow / green / blue / purple / white / black

Holidays

Hanukkah, Halloween, you already know.

Poss

potential icons / potential backgrounds / poss fl / poss cos

People

If you are my friend (or at least have made an impression in my life) you probably have your own tag of posts that remind me of you! Search your name in /tagged/

em / andrea / mack / toby / anoosha

[lastsonlost]

NO SHIT SHERLOCK!

What fucking took you so long!

The story: ALSO- spoiler warning

Midway through a screening of Joker this weekend at a Chicago theater, I leaned over to a friend seated next to me and whispered: “Is this the same movie that everyone has been talking about?”

I asked because what I was witnessing on-screen bore little resemblance to the ode to angry, young, white, “incel” men that I had heard so much about in media coverage of Joker leading up to its release. Instead, we got a fairly straightforward condemnation of American austerity: how it leaves the vulnerable to suffer without the resources they need, and the horrific consequences for the rest of society that can result.

This message is so blunt that even I, a Marxist and philistine, found its message a bit too clobbering. How mainstream commentators have missed it and drawn the exact opposite conclusion is baffling.

Arthur Fleck, the protagonist and eventual Joker, is a poor, young, white, mentally ill man who works as a clown and seems to enjoy it. In the film’s opening scene, he is beaten up by a rowdy group of teenagers, some of whom appear to be teens of color..

Watching this opening, I thought, here it is: in the very first scene, teenagers running wild on the streets of New York City, a classic rightwing trope in American cinema depicting a society (and its racialized underclass, in particular) that is out of control. We’ll soon be told it needs to be reined in by some old-fashioned law and order and cracking of skulls.

Yet in the locker room of the clown agency, when a coworker calls the teens “animals” and “savages”, Arthur explicitly rejects dehumanizing the teens. “They’re just kids,” he responds. Bruises visible on his body – a body for which Joaquin Phoenix lost 52 pounds ahead of filming, with a disturbingly protruding spine and ribs, that is physically ravaged by the austerity-racked society Arthur lives in, wasting away in front of our eyes – he defends his assailants and rejects his coworker’s racist epithets.

Since critics depicted this as a film for the far right, whose overtly racist views are well-known, I expected the depictions of characters of color to be bigoted. But interestingly, almost all of the violence he eventually metes out as he sinks deeper and deeper into a full breakdown – save for the movie’s final scene, at which point Joker’s nihilistic brutality has fully blossomed, now wanton and indiscriminate – is against white men, many of them wealthy.

A passing interaction with a neighbor, a single black mother who lives on his floor, leads to a disturbing and delusional romantic obsession with her . This culminates in a tense scene in which – on the verge of a full breakdown and after we realize the previous scenes of the two of them on a date and sitting at the hospital bedside of Arthur’s mother were completely imagined by him – he walks into her open apartment.

The viewer expects an act of violence against her, perhaps even a horrific scene of sexual assault, by the lonely man who wants the beautiful woman but can’t have her. In other words, the ultimate incel revenge fantasy. Instead, startled, she asks him to leave. He does.

Likewise, in a scene whose political message was so blunt that it could have appeared in a mid-century Stalinist propaganda film, his social worker and counselor – another black woman – with whom he has a tense but clearly significant relationship, is forced to tell him that due to recent budget cuts, their office will be shutting down. Arthur asks her where he’s going to get his medication; she has no answer for him.

“They don’t give a shit about people like you, Arthur,” she tells him, referring to those who cut the budget. “And they don’t give a shit about people like me either.”

The black, female public-sector worker is telling the white, male public-service user that their interests are intertwined against the wealthy billionaire class and their political lackeys who are slashing public services. Across racial and gender boundaries, the two have a common class enemy.

You can’t get much less subtle, or much more diametrically opposed to the right’s worldview, than this.

It is those budget cuts that drive Arthur deeper into madness. Similar attempted cuts likely drove sanitation workers to strike, resulting in the piled-up garbage constantly visible on Gotham’s streets. These are clear allusions to New York City’s 1975 fiscal crisis and the austerity it produced, which soon spread to the rest of the country.

Elites’ condescending responses to the widespread suffering make things worse. Billionaire Thomas Wayne condemns Arthur’s murder of his three employees (representing young, arrogant, rich Wall Street types) on the subway by calling the average person seething in the streets “clowns”. Don’t they know that he wants to help them, the ultra-rich mayoral candidate asks. He is irritated he even has to explain this. His comments merely stoke the already burning fires of resentment, with Wayne’s obliviousness at their misery rubbing salt in the wounds of average Gotham residents and driving them to the streets to protest Wayne and elites like him in clown masks.

And, of course, when Arthur sneaks into a high-class theatre and confronts Wayne about what Arthur has been led to believe by his ailing mother – that Wayne, her former employer, is Arthur’s father – the genteel billionaire, dressed in a full tuxedo, literally punches Arthur in the face. Again, political subtlety is not this film’s stock and trade. How could reviewers miss this?

What Arthur – and scores of others like him in Gotham and our own society – needs is a fully-funded Medicare for All or NHS-style health system that includes robust mental health services that provide him with the counseling services and medication that can save him (and others around him) from his unceasingly “negative thoughts” and violent impulses.

He needs public programs that can provide a warm, encouraging environment for his creative impulses, allowing him to perform standup comedy or perform as a clown without becoming a laughingstock on national television or getting canned by an uncaring boss. He needs wages for his care work for his infirm mother or a robust elder care system that can respectfully take her under its care. He needs high-quality housing he can afford.

Arthur has more than his share of problems, but a few of them would have been solved, or at least adequately and humanely managed, in a society whose budgets were oriented more towards people like him than Wayne. But he does not live in that society, and neither do we. Instead of public services and dignity, he gets that most American of consolation prizes: a gun, and the sense of respect that, while ultimately hollow, has long eluded him.

Joker’s ending is bleak and one whose general thrust we knew going into the film: in addition to the three Wall Street types, an old mother, a coworker, a talkshow host and a billionaire couple have been murdered in cold blood; rioters in clown masks are running wild in the streets, cheering Joker on the hood of a cop car. In the final scene, Arthur is again speaking to a social worker, but now in handcuffs in an asylum. But it’s too late to reach him, because he’s no longer Arthur – he’s the Joker, and the Joker has no qualms about killing her, too.

Rosa Luxemburg once famously framed the choice for our future as that of socialism or barbarism. Joker is a portrait of a society that has chosen barbarism. No one wants to see violence erupt in such a situation, but we shouldn’t be surprised when it does.

In the real world, we aren’t yet at that breaking point. And unlike Gotham, we have alternate paths on offer – represented best by the Vermont senator Bernie Sanders, whose presidential campaign speaks to that roiling anger but channels it into humane and egalitarian directions. If we don’t take it, and that anger continues to find a home in reactionary outlets, the barbarities we see in Joker might start looking horrifyingly familiar.

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Azula Week 2020: Day 7 - Repaired

Prompt: Success Pair: N/A Song: 69feetofsmoke - Ppl That I Luv

Summary: Zuko comes across Azula's paintings and sketchbook and finds startling self-portraits. 

The paintbrush slashes across the canvas leaving a thick and heavy trail of black. One harsh, angry brushstroke after another and another and another and…

Red comes next, vivid and bright. There is nearly as much red as there is black. It is thrown and spattered by flicks of the brush from a distance.

A touch of gold. Only the faintest trace of it.

The painting is cast to the side amid the rest of them. She curls herself up on the bed feeling drained. She is well aware that painting shouldn’t leave her feeling such. But it always does.

Azula has become a ghost of herself. Zuko sees it in her dulled eyes, in her loose stance and her slouched sitting posture. He sees it in her disheveled robes and her disarrayed hair. Sees it in her paled skin and hears it in the dejected way she speaks.

She hasn’t been the same since their Agni Kai. She isn’t as unkind, on some days she is actually rather pleasant to talk to, but she is deeply sad. Even when she smiles it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“I’m fine, Zuzu.” She insists again. They sit in the shade of a dragon maple.

“You aren’t acting like yourself.”

“Everybody wanted me to change.”

He presses his lips together. He hates when she does that. Even if she doesn’t mean anything by it. Even if she only means to lay down facts as she sees them. He never knows how to reply to that because she isn’t entirely wrong, but she is missing some critical aspects. “That’s not what I mean.” He finally settles.

“Then what do you mean?” She asks, eyes fixed on her hands, clasped atop her knee.

“You just seem...really...unhappy.”

“I’m fine.” She repeats as though rehearsed. She does this a lot too, has him talking in circles.

“I just want you to be okay.”

“I am.”

He has to hold back a frustrated sigh. He has run out of things to say. But he doesn’t think that it is a good idea to leave them in silence. “The pond looks nice today. Katara said that she saw you decorating it?”

Azula shrugs. “I moved a few rocks around because I didn’t like where they were placed.” She pauses. “And I thought that a couple of fire lilies would look nice around it.”

He recalls that her bedroom window faces the pond and wonders if this is a small way of trying to lighten her mood.

“It does look nice.” He smiles. She doesn’t return the smile.

.oOo.

It feels weird talking to them. Talking to any of them. Every time she begins to feel secure, like she might be fully accepted, she makes a mess of it. And it is usually over the most mundane and trivial things.

Today’s argument has an extra bite considering that she’d taken something positive and turned it sour.

“You’re really going to choose flowers over people!?” Katara asks.

“They’re just flowers” Mai adds nonchalantly, “Sokka did even know that they were yours.”

Azula fixes him with a cross stare, his arm is slung over Suki’s shoulder. Suki who now wears Azula’s fire lilies in her hair. They aren’t just flowers. They are her flowers. Were her flowers and they made it, if only a little, easier to pull herself out of bed. They gave her something pretty to look at. They made her feel as though she could create something beautiful. She folds her arms across her chest. But even when she does create something beautiful it becomes vile in the end. “They were mine.” She says flatly.

“They were in the palace gardens.” Zuko says gently.

“Which are also mine.”

Zuko sighs, presses his hands together, and holds them to the bridge of his nose. “They’re my gardens too and…”

“And what!?” Azula asks. “And I think that you’re overreacting, a little.” He replies.

“A little?” Mai quirks a brow. “They’re a bundle of flowers, she can grow more.”

Azula clenches her fists beneath the table. “I shouldn’t have to. People should know better than to touch what belongs to me. They should know better than to disrespect…” She hisses.

“I didn’t even know that they were yours!” Sokka throws his hands up.

They are all looking at her. Glaring at her with such hatred and aggravation.

“Ya know we’re trying so hard to be nice to you.” Katara interjects. “We don’t have to and we really shouldn’t. You’re lucky that we’re giving you a second chance.”

But she feels neither lucky nor like she truly does have a chance. In fact, all she feels right now is anxious and angry. But she thinks that she might be angry at herself. She buches the fabrics of her robes beneath the table.

“And you aren’t even putting in any effort!” Toph declares.

“We thought you changed.” TyLee adds softly.

“Who gets mad over flowers?” Suki mutters. “I thought that they were pretty enough to wear.”

Azula bites the inside of her cheek, she hadn’t thought of that. Hadn’t considered that she had created something beautiful after all. Something so beautiful that someone wanted to wear it. Beautiful enough that it could have created joy for someone else. And suddenly she agrees with them, that she has made a problem out of nothing at all. Suddenly she feels horrible.

“They were my flowers…” Is all she manages.

She wants to cry, but, Agni, she can’t do it now. Not in front of so many enemies, especially ones that already gnash at her with razor teeth. She gnaws her lip that much harder. She can feel the tears building behind her eyes and they keep talking. She isn’t quite listening but they are still talking and they are still chastising.

She feels like a little girl. She feels pathetic and immature and an assortment of other dismal things. She can’t cry and she can’t look away, she is already being ridiculed enough. She feels as though they are closing in on her, she has to take her mind somewhere else… She has too…

The heat comes to her fingers before the tears have a chance to come to her eyes. She presses her fingers into her forearm and heats them much further. Everyone hates her again, they probably always will. She keeps her mind fixed on the burning sensation. It isn’t potent enough yet so she heats her fingers further still.

“Azula!” Zuko is loud enough to break through her concentration.

She stands up and pushes her chair in. She thanks Agni that her sleeves are long enough to cover the burn marks beneath. It isn’t as though she hasn’t done this before. She’d just never done it with other people in the room.

“Azula, we’re not done talking.”

But she is. She is done with a lot of things; hope and creating joys for herself among them. She pulls out her sketchbook and a fountain pen and begins slashing at the paper.

.oOo.

Azula’s room is vacant when he comes to check on her an hour later. The servants assure him that she has gone for her bath. He seats himself upon her bed. An hour later he sighs to himself, he is nodding off. He forgets how long she takes in the bath.

He stands to stretch his legs when he glances at her nightstand. At first he thinks that it is a journal, and in some sense it might be. It rests face up and open, an image done with thick ink. He knows that he ought not to, especially since their entire argument just hours ago had been about touching her belongings. But curiosity gets the better of him. He takes note of the picture she’d left open and flips to the first page. This one is just as dark, maybe more so.

The ink is applied so heavily that he can see indents on the page beneath it. The figure is hunched over, its face obscured. A plethora of weaponry juts from its back. Some arrows and a few throwing stars, but mostly there are knives. Red ink is used generously.

He turns the page to see another figure this one also has its face obscured, this time by hair. But he can sense the wild eyed gaze beneath. It wraps its arms around itself, nails clawing into its skin. Azula’s artistic talent is so much that it almost feels real, like he is looking at actual flesh that is being gripped to tightly. All around the figure are shadows, faintly human in shape, some are only hands.

The next page is much simpler; another dark-haired figure but the face is violently scribbled out. And the one next to it is similar but instead of ink, Azula blotted the face with paint. Deep, dark, paint.

The fifth image reveals a face. It’s eyes are dark and empty. There is such a deep sadness in them. He wasn’t aware that a single painting could convey such an emotion. He is so distracted by the face reveal that he almost doesn’t notice that the rest of the figure is in shambles. It’s right leg is seperated at the knee and the left is obviously broken. The left arm is twisted and bent. And its right arm is cracked and covering a large hole on its head, the cracks spiderweb onto the forehead. There is no blood, somehow this leaves him more unsettled. In the teeniest font at the bottom of the page he sees the word, ‘broken’.

He quickly flips the page. This one is not much better. Fierce and angry golden eyes look up at him. Golden eyes... The figure emits such an air of hatred that he almost closes the sketchbook as he should. But he can’t tear his eyes away. It is bleeding, its throat slashed from side to side and its wrists mutilated. Zuko finds more tiny writing. ‘Deserved.’

He comes to the page he’d first happened upon. The newest one. The worst one. It is the same figure, this time its eyes look dead and empty, thick black ink runs down its cheeks. It holds a dagger in its right hand, it’s blade adorned with red ink. The figure is naked and upon its stomach is the word, ‘monster’. His stomach sinks, in an instant he becomes aware that he has been referring to the figure as ‘it’. It is a human. It is undeniably a twisted, mutilated self portrait.

On her portrait self’s forehead, Azula had scrawled, ‘crazy’ and in smaller print, ‘lunatic’. It doesn’t matter where on the image he looks, it is full of words. Her left arm read, ‘disappointment’, ‘dishonor’,  ‘bitch’. and ‘hateful.’ Her right arm  is marred by, ‘ugly’, ‘damaged’, and ‘a mess.’

Her legs are decorated with various synonyms and the red ink drizzles down them pooling at her watercolor feet. Her chest is censored with two words, ‘heartless’ and ‘unlovable.’ The background is made of more words still but these are all overlapping one another so much that he can’t make out any of them. He doesn’t have to, to know that they are just as demeaning.

He looks back into those gold ink eyes. The sorrow within them is so complete that it is overwhelming. He hears footsteps and hustles to put the sketchbook back in its place. And pretends to be observing the dragon mural hanging at the other end of the room.

“What do you want, Zuzu?” She grumbles. Her hair is dripping, she smells like the bath she’d just taken. He might have mistook the grumble for an argumentative growl, but now it only seems dreary.

“Just to check on you.”

“For what?”

He shrugs. “I just. I know that it’s hard to try to fit in with a group of people that you hurt.”  He wants to bring up the sketchbook, but he isn’t sure how without rousing her temper.

She shrugs and sits herself back on the bed. Her eyes look nearly as vacant as they do in her portrait. “Are you okay.” He hears her insist that she’s fine in his head before she opens her mouth.

“Are you?” He asks with a pointed stare to her nightstand.

She goes very tense.

“I told you not to...we just fought over…” Her voice seems to catch. “You shouldn’t go through my things.”

“You left it on the nightstand…”

“You shouldn’t be in here at all.” Her demand lacks its usual sting.

He takes the sketchbook, “it’s not true, we don’t think those things about you.”

“You do think them.” She insists. “You just don’t say them. Not to my face. But I overhear Mai and Suki. I overhear the palace staff. Iroh…” She pauses.

His mind runs in circles trying to figure out which thing Iroh had said. Perhaps heartless...or crazy, he’d heard his uncle call her crazy before.

“I doesn’t matter anyways because even if you don’t, I…” she stops herself. Her eyes seem to go hollower still.

He rubs his hands over her face. “It wasn’t just about the flowers today, was it?” He asks.

“No.” She replies.

“What was it about?”

She waves her hand. “It doesn’t matter.”  Her head seems to droop ever so slightly. He’s going to lose her if he doesn’t do something.

“Will you come downstairs with me?”

“No.”

He takes her by the wrist and she flinches and pulls her hand out of his grasp. “Sorry,” he mutters, “I forgot that you don’t like to be touched.”  He furrows his brows. “What happened?”

.oOo.

She doesn’t resist as he takes her hand again to inspect it.

“No.” He shakes his head sadly. “No. Don’t don’t do this.” He gestures to the burn marks.

Usually when she makes him cry it is because she’d hurt him. She always imagined that he would be delighted to see her hurt. She isn’t sure why he isn’t thrilled. This is what he wanted, to see her fall and hit the bottom so that he could have the top.  

She doesn’t know why he is babbling apologies to her. He never did anything wrong. That is her job. She’s the cruel one. She’s the one who hurts people. She is hurting him now and all she had done was hurt herself.

He gives her a light shake. “Answer me?”

But she hasn’t much to say. He can pretend to care...he can actually care but it makes little difference when everyone else  hates her. When no one else does. In time, he’d be better off anyhow.

But he doesn’t let her go, Agni she wishes that he would. He only releases his hold to let her lie down but he doesn’t leave. Hours go by and he sits there quietly, occasionally nodding off. It makes her feel teary all over again, but she can’t distract herself with pain with him watching so closely.

Azula squeezes her eyes shut as the first few tears free themselves. She must have made the smallest noise because his hand now rubs small circles on her back. She tries to force herself to stop crying but his hand on her back only makes her weep harder.

And then harder still when she hears footsteps heading their way. She doesn’t know who it is, it doesn’t matter. One person seeing her like this is bad enough. “Is she gonna be okay?”

Zuko glances down at her. “I hope so, Ty.” He gives her a small nudge. “I want her to be okay.”

She swallows. She wants to be okay. But she isn’t, there isn’t one okay thing about her.

.oOo.

He can’t seem to get her to move, not for the first week. For the first week she stays in bed. During the middle of the second week is when she emerged. She was sluggish and untalkative, a silent presence at the breakfast table.

But he was thankful to see her at least up and about. He wasn’t sure exactly what had motivated her to finally leave her room. But, Agni, was he relieved. If he’d known she’d be joining them for breakfast, he would have had them cook her favorite, pancakes with mango slices mixed into the batter. An eccentric choice if he must say. He’d requested it for her the next morning.

Still she didn’t talk. She sat with them but her presence was like that of a specter or a doll. It is her sixth day of not speaking a word. He sits the pancake before her. This time she finishes a little more than half of it before staring blankly at it.

“Hey, let’s go for a walk?” He offers.

“To where?” She speaks up for the first time in ages. He never thought that he’d be so relieved to hear her voice.

“Just out back.” He smiles.

She looks around the table, “where is everyone?”

“Come on.” He helps her out of the chair and leads her outside.

.oOo.

She squints against the sunlight, she wants to go back to her room. Instead she lets Zuko lead her towards the palace gardens. They are all there; Mai, TyLee, the Avatar and his gang, and Iroh. The smell of tea, jasmine, she believes, dances on the breeze.

“What is this?” She mumbles.

The little crowd parts and she sees them. A dozen or so vividly orange fire lilies. She looks up at Zuko in both confusion and a sudden wave of distress. He must sense it on her because his hand is on her back again, “sit down and let Iroh pour you some tea.”

Azula feels shaky, she thinks that she ought to sit down. She lets Zuko lead her to the foldout table that Iroh has assembled. He pours her a cup and she takes it in her hands. She wishes that her hands weren’t trembling so obviously and that the tea cup in them didn’t make them tremble moreso.

“I’m sorry about the flowers.” Sokka says, “I didn’t realize that it bothered you that much.”

She shakes her head, “it wasn’t just about the flowers…” She pauses. She has already made herself plenty weak, they haven’t taken advantage of it yet. And so what if they do, they can’t make her feel too much worse than she already does. “They helped me wake up in the morning. To see them out there. And then I woke up and I didn’t see them…”

A little thing to latch onto. To keep her going and she couldn’t even have that. She rubs the petals of a new one between her fingers. But she does have that. Yet they aren’t the ones that she planted.

She swallows. They are the ones that were planted for her though. Maybe the thought that went into them has more weight. “Why?”

“Because you haven’t been okay for a long time and we want you to be okay.” Zuko says.

She hopes that she hasn’t told them about the sketchbook.  She stares into her empty tea cup. Iroh offers her a refill.

.oOo.

Things were different after that. Azula still didn’t talk very much in the beginning but she would tag along when they went out to eat or to see a play. She wouldn’t necessarily part take, but at least she was getting out of the palace.

He is surprised to see her on the beach, digging her toes into the sand. Every now and then she scoops a handful of it and watches it slip from the space in her fist to reach the ground it had come from.

He takes a seat next to her. “I can get you some ice cream, if you want.”

She stands up and brushes the sand off of the back of her legs. “It’ll melt by the time you get it back to me.” She lets him lead her to the stall that is selling all of the cool beverages. She decides that she wants a pineapple drink instead.

He watches her drink it down, it is hard for him to gauge how she feels. Over the next few days, they talk to her, mostly sharing stories that have no relevance to the war. Sokka tells the most horrendously unfunny jokes. She finally opens up, near the end of the week. She is more sociable and her eyes have more life in them, tired as they still are.

He catches her firebending once or twice and on another occasion he sees her teaching Aang some techniques. After that he suggests that they each have some one on one time with her. An idea she protests but goes along with.

.oOo.

Azula still feels awkward and out of place. Her stories don’t seem to have the right amount of lightheartedness, they all have somewhat of a dark edge or undertone to them. Yet they listen to her anyhow. Mai, with the faintest trace of an amused smile. The same one she always gives when Azula shares the flaming apple and fountain story.

TyLee and Katara weave hibiscus into her hair as she talks. The shell bracelet around her wrist tinkles in the breeze. Sometimes she catches one of them staring. She follows their gaze to her lightly scarred arms.

“What are you staring at?” She asks crossly, without thinking.

“Same thing I always stare at.” Toph shrugs. “Absolutely nothing.”

She manages a small snicker. It feels so normal. It all just feels so normal. She thinks that she needs normal.

.oOo.

Azula is painting different things now. He opens the door to her beach house bedroom to see several larger canvases. Most of them are recreations of the sunset. One of them is a painting of a pineapple drink.

She isn’t in her room but she has been recently. There is a scatter of seashells on her nightstand that hadn’t been there a few hours ago.

He peers out of the window and finds her playing kuai ball with Mai, Tylee, and Suki. On the other team are Aang, Toph, Sokka, and Katara. He makes his way down to the beach and waits for them to tag him in.

Their month on Ember Island is coming to a close. In just a day or so they will be making their way home. Azula, decently taken by cactus juice, has fallen asleep not quite on the couch. He hadn’t taken her for a lightweight. He especially hadn’t taken Toph for one. But the two of them are out for the night and the others aren’t far behind. Zuko doesn’t know how he has become the designated babysitter.  

Their final day on Ember Island is coming to a close. Zuko finds himself on the balcony, looking out at the sun as it casts its warm glow on the waves. Sparkles dance across the surface bathed in pinks and oranges.

“Zuzu.”

He turns around and smiles. ‘I’m glad your trip ended up going well. It did go well, right?”

She doesn’t say anything, simply pushes her sketchbook into his arms before padding away, presumably to help Mai and TyLee start their bonfire.

He opens the book to find several familiar pages of artwork. He cringes to himself as he turns to the first of the new pages. The inkwork is much lighter, less aggressive now, but the image is still melancholy. The ink rendition of Azula is laying on the ground with her hair swept out in front of her, five small burn marks are the only color on the page.

The next one over shows a familiar broken and beaten body. But this one has little plants sprouting from the cracks and insufficiently small bandaids patching them up. The next few pages to follow don’t pertain to Azula at all, not without context anyhow; there is another pineapple drink, a very lifelike shell, and an elaborate door knocker--the one they pounded furiously with at Chan’s house before running away. Of course she would draw that.

He flips to the final page. He sees another figure. Like all of the others, its resemblance to her is unmistakable. More so now that there is life in the golden ink eyes. This image exudes as much cheer as her old ones had exuded sorrow. This one has color too; bright orange watercolor paint makes a crown of fire lily around her head.  He realizes that there are a few figures in the background, little yellow blurs that glow on the page where he is used to seeing deep dark shading. He finds a single word at the bottom.

‘Reparied.’

[snatched-subcon]

Important image #1