Mappa Will Be Weeping While Making S2, Gojo Be Gone

love at first sight, if Auguste did live.

I'm going on a long plane ride soon, and I really need long Tomarry fics (that are completed preferably.) I like time travel stories, serial killers, basically anything that I can totally escape into please please please please :D

Fuck yeah, I’ve got you.

Sky Full Of Glass by SofiaBane

The Horcruxes have become unstuck in time, and it’s the responsibility of the Master of Death to figure out why. And since Voldemort needs to be punished for transgressing into the realm of Death anyway, he might as well come along.

A quite delightful take on the Master of Death Harry, who has complete dominion over space and time, too. 20k.

Nose to the Wind by Batsutousai

While Harry had been content with his second chance, that didn't keep him from thinking what he could have done different, how many people could have survived if he hadn't been set on the very specific path he'd walked. Third time is the charm, though, right?

Now, I have no doubt that you already know this one, but how could I leave it off a rec list? The prequel is also fantastic. 211k.

The Ouroboros by WyrmLivvy

Once upon a time, a woman wished to have a child with the man she loved, that would have his porcelain skin as white as snow, his rosy cheeks red as blood, and his dark hair black as ebony. …

The child was not born with red cheeks but red eyes.

(Tomarry vampire/fairy tale/Snow White AU)

Now, this is not quite time travel or serial killers, but it’s absolutely fantastic all the same, and absolutely worth the read. Fantasy, dark-ish, and a happy ending. 20k.

The Eyes in the Bramblebush by relic_crown

For a long time, Tom was just another violinist, perfect and beautiful and boring. Then Harry truly saw him, and knew he was anything but boring - he was the edge of a pocketknife, the red of nightshade berries, a lie in a crisp black coat.

Harry had never fallen in love so quickly.

Once again, technically neither time travel nor serial killers, but it is most certainly something to sink your teeth into. 12k.

Darling, do you remember what you did? by Baryshnikov

Tom had been waiting to do this.

Waiting for a very, very long time.

Oh, this is gloriously dark, with knifeplay and power games galore. 13k, technically a WIP, but you’d be missing out if you didn’t read it.

Mania by Angel_Of_Mysteries

Harry and Tom have been together for two years, and Harry’s finally ready to take their relationship to the next level. Little does he know, so is Tom.

I can’t say much on this without spoiling it, but it’s wonderfully painful. 9k.

No Body, No Crime by duplicity

Harry works as a car mechanic in a small town. He and Ginny are best friends, their close bond the product of a traumatic event that scarred them both as children.

Now that they are adults with separate lives, it seems inevitable that they will drift apart. That is, until Ginny confides in Harry that she thinks her husband—the charming, enigmatic Tom Riddle—is cheating on her.

A day later, Ginny goes missing. Harry is convinced that Tom is behind her disappearance, and becomes determined to exact justice by any means necessary.

This one was so goddamn painful, but so brilliant. 20k.

God of Nothing by machiavelli

The other orphans avoid Tom Riddle like the plague. He lounges on his broken throne, watches the whispers fade around him with sharp, dark eyes. Nobody can quite work out why he seems so fascinated with the new boy, who walks in smelling of smoke and hasn't said a word in three days.

I remember following this one as each of the chapters came out, and by the gods it was glorious. In a much darker universe, half tinged with madness, Harry and Tom meet, and it’s perfect. 83k.

dust in your pocket by relic_crown

Two hundred years ago, the world died.

All that remains is a technicolor wasteland, swirling with ash and populated by radiation-warped humans. Tom, immortal and bloodthirsty, crowns herself queen of this ruined world and wanders it namelessly, building and burning empires at will.

Then there's Harry: eyes like chips of sea glass, hopeful in the face of the apocalypse -- and by far the most dangerous person Tom's ever met.

Holy shit. An almost steampunk AU, femslash, and completely incredible in every single way. 24k.

Dreams and Darkness Collide by Epic Solemnity (Dark_Cyan_Star)

Though he was raised without the expectation of saving the world, Harry still possesses a savior complex. Only, it's so dark and twistedly immoral, he created an alter ego to practice vigilantism. His second identity makes a name for himself and immediately ensnares Minister Riddle's complete and obsessive attention. A game of cat and mouse begins and morals are questioned.

One of my favourites, although I’m pretty sure it’s been abandoned. Vigilante!Serial killer!Harry and Minister!Riddle, who still runs the Death Eaters, and makes for one dangerous, tantalising romance. 209k.

Footsteps On Empty Floorboards by AgonisedDaily

After a recent screw-up on the job whilst hunting a serial killer, Harry needs a break from being an Auror. His new Victorian house promises just that, but living with the restless spirit of a former Dark Lord isn't quite part of the peace and quiet he was hoping for.

Okay, okay, okay, I know you said completed works only, but I’m incapable of leaving this beauty off my rec list. Maybe I’m just a sucker for darker things, but I think this is beautiful. 125k.

Break and Burn and End by duplicity

Harry Potter has died over and over again: in a cradle, in a graveyard, in a courtyard. If Harry Potter has ever lived, if he was the accumulation of years filled with burdens and grief, he has long since warped into someone else.

So let Harry Potter die, let his legacy run like ink through the pages of history until it dries for evermore. The world is better off without Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort both, so Harry will kill the one of them that he can and hope it will be enough.

OR: Past and present, Harry and Voldemort are connected. A tale of two immortals and the question of what it means to have an adversary when forever is in the cards.

Immortals AU of letting go and healing. I love it. 17k.

I hope this is enough, and, as always, I had fun making it! I will do the customary my fics are great please read them at the end, but considering most of them are WIPs or oneshots, I won’t include them as serious fic recs. You’ve been spared.

Japanese child actress Mana Ashida (little Mako) was embarrassed that she couldn’t pronounce Guillermo Del Toro’s name so he gave her special permission to call him “Totoro-san” instead.

My Neighbor Guillermo Del Toro.

The Fates (Maleficent AU)

"M–my Lord," a rat-faced man speaks, knees sinking to the floor. "I know where he is, I know where Harry Potter is."

The Lord on his throne laughs. A cold, hollow sound that could shake the fear out of the ground.

"It would seem," Voldemort smiles, "the Fates are on my side."

(As the Lord sits and prowls on his glory of grandeur, above the clouds, the Fates snicker with shaking heads for they are not, in fact, on his side)

They have done well to hide his location.

Kept in the deepest, most dangerous parts of the woods. Secured under a barrier of protective magic. It takes a while for Voldemort to pierce through the wall. That fool, Dumbledore did his homework.

Slowly, he lurks closer to the crib. He is disgusted to find the thing already staring at him.

With big eyes that shone the type of innocence only seen by youths, this thing, his would-be destroyer, looks nothing more than a common baby with an oversized head. Offended, he is, that the majority of townsfolk considers this to be their ungodly savior.

Either way, Voldemort would gladly crush their hopes once he encloses his claws around his neck and squeezes.

His oversized head tilts to the side, curiously staring at the face of his soon-to-be killer.

Then, softly, he smiles. A wide grin displaying multiple gaps and small teeth that has yet to mature.

The oversized thing raises a hand, fingers dwindling in a silent plea to come closer. Amused by the request, Voldemort reaches out a hand of his own.

His palm and fingers are significantly longer, both in length and width, dwarfing the oversized thing's own hand. With this, he could easily crush his wrist, and finally be rid of this thing.

"A–are you going to kill him yet my lord?" the rat asks, and for a blissful minute there, Voldemort nearly forgets his existence

He looks back at the oversized thing. His would-be killer. Then smiles wickedly, "Not yet."

(Voldemort is curious—

What would the boy become? Does the prophecy hold any relevance? Is this boy just an oversized thing with an oversized head and oversized eyes?

To not be careless, he'd send Barty watch over the boy. In case the prophecy indeed holds some truth.

Perhaps some day he'd visit that cottage himself)

"My Lord," his servant bows his head. "I have returned, and came to report you per usual."

"Speak, Barty."

"Harry Potter will be turning eight next week. He does his morning routine as follows; fetching water on a well, baking or tidying the garden, rolling down grassy hills, speaking to faeries and sometimes disregarding his godfathers' warnings or commands." He clears his throat. "He is a curious boy, indeed. It seems he has no knowledge of what lurks outside the barrier, and I believe, some day, he would be killed by wild beasts lurking on those murky woods if he ever tries to indulge on his curiosity."

Of course. A sigh almost escapes Voldemort's lips. Every year, as he grows, his young would-be destroyer becomes bolder and braver and perhaps losing braincells along the way. "Keep an eye out. That boy would die and seal his own fate before I could."

"My Lord, do you mean I simply observe... Or do I find a way to stop it?"

"Let no harm come to him. He must not perish." Not yet.

Many years

come to

a pass,

Voldemort decides to visit.

"How old is he?"

"Eleven, my Lord."

Voldemort hums.

That oversized thing— is not oversized anymore. His head shrunk, his eyes no longer overtaking most of the space on his face, and the child-like innocence he's come to notice before is mostly gone.

He's taller now. The softer lines of his face disappears, emerging harsher features that showed his maturity.

"Is this a normal occurrence?" Voldemort asks, frowning at the obscured sight of a raven-haired boy sleeping beneath the thick, long grasses.

"Yes." Barty presses his mouth, biting an amused snort. "He usually sleeps here in this time of day. The friendlier creatures has deemed him Sleeping Beauty because of it."

"Hm."

(The boy slumbers, plays, runs and laughs. Unbeknownst to a crow and a Lord watching him beneath the shadows.)

Unbeknownst to a Lord who has taken too much interest in a way this boy smiles)

The boy left the barrier.

Voldemort seethes through his gritted fangs. Perhaps he'd finally get rid of his misfortunes and end him. One less stupid thing in this world filled of stupid things.

He encounters a galavanting grey-hound wolf, and decides to threaten question him.

"Where is he?"

The hound whines from his wrenching grip around its hairy neck. Voldemort has no time for this, for all he knows, that boy could be slaughtered and his organs are left dangling somewhere in the trees.

He tears through the hound's mind, ignoring its cry of protest, and peers into his earlier memories.

In his search, he finds a glimpse of memory, a boy going inside a house built in saccharine sweets, fooled by its false illusion of secutiy, and there, he is invited inside by a kind-looking witch.

That same witch, from what Voldemort knows, has a penchant for green-eyed boys who smelled of summer breeze and freshly rolled grass.

He growls.

Voldemort arrives right in the moment that the witch is ready to stew herself a next meal, pushing a white-stricken Harry Potter into her blazing oven.

Behind her, she is unaware of the hellfire she brought on herself.

(I knew it, was the first words that left the boy's mouth once the gag on his mouth is released.

Knew what?

You're real, he breathes out, disbelief. The faeries warned me that a stranger watches me in secret. I had my suspicion... I remembered red eyes staring at me when I was a baby and for a while, I thought it was simply a weird dream. Was that you?

Yes.

You're real.

I am.

They stare. And the boy visibly swallows. What's your name?

I'm not sure you want to know.

He laughs like the hum of summer breeze. Why wouldn't I want to know the name of my protector?

When Voldemort provides no reply, the boy frowns. Oh. You really won't tell me? Fine, I'll just call you Fairy Godmother, that's what I call you to the faeries anyways.

Cheeky boy.

Fine, he says in final.)

"I was wondering when you'll appear again."

"I was unaware that you were waiting for me at all."

"It's my birthday," he says. "Is that why you came? Have you returned to me with a gift?"

Yes. "No, of course not."

Harry sits on his bed, legs crossed against the other. The snores of his godfathers hum behind thin, cracking walls. If Harry would scream, his guardians would wake instantly.

But Voldemort could easily lure Harry outside, far away where no one could hear him at all. He'd believe anything, this naive, stupid thing.

Harry blinks, moon-lit glasses glinting behind glittering green eyes. "Fairy Godmother?"

Voldemort scowls. "You insist on calling me that? I am neither a fairy nor a mother."

His lips quirk into a sly smirk. "I wouldn't have to if you simply gave me your name."

With a sudden prickle of annoyance, his hand itches to—

Hold him?

Kill him?

Is there a difference?

He ignores this feeling.

"How old are you?"

"Thirteen."

Already. Voldemort observes Harry and finds the image of a stupid, oversized thing inside balled up blanket too distant. "Come."

"Where are we going?" Harry whispers, hastily following Voldemort out the front door, and only then does he notice how the boy walks barefoot, wearing nothing more than a billowing sleeping dress made of white cotton, his tanned legs underneath seemingly wore nothing.

When cold late morning wind blows, Harry shivers. Voldemort refrains to mention it. He continues to dash forward as Harry struggles to follow along his longer strides.

At some point, they reach the end of the barrier. Harry freezes.

"...will it be alright?"

"You doubt yourself now? This is not the first time you stepped out of boundary."

"Yeah, but that was before! I'm not stupid to risk it again. Who knows what's in there at this time of day..."

"I'm here," Voldemort claims. "No creature would dare cross us."

"And you're so sure of this because...?"

"I just am," Voldemort responds coolly. "Unless you want to go back—"

"No!" the boy cuts in. "Fine. I'll come with you."

How remarkably easy that Voldemort nearly laughs.

("Is that...?"

Voldemort watches Harry gape, stunned. His moon-lit glasses glinting behind star-struck eyes. "Indeed. It's a unicorn."

Harry laughs, and Voldemort steps back when the creature of light threads closer to the boy. Watching the young thing with intelligent eyes. Its head bows, and Harry's jaw hinges free. Then with a shaky hand, touches its forehead, his hand engulfing through pure, vivid brightness.

Harry looks to his side. Grinning at him with all of his teeth present.)

"Will you come back?"

Without hesitation, he responds, "No."

"But you will, right?" Harry says, ignoring what his first reply. "You've been watching me for a long time. I know that crow who spies on me at a basis somehow involves you, I've been seeing it since I was a baby. Now, I can see you."

"Listen here, brat." He points a claw on the sharp edge of his jaw, an inch away from piercing the skin. "I have other matters to attend, more important than playing tea party with a kid like you."

Harry remains motionless. Then, softly, adds with a cheeky smile, "...but you will, right?"

Voldemort Apparates.

(Every time he comes back, he thinks this time, I'll kill him this time.

Only to come back to his castle, annoyed at this boy who easily slept on his presence, who's moon-glasses hid the starlight of his eyes, who's scent of summer wind and sunlight follows him everywhere.

It repeats the next year.

Then the next.

And the next—)

How old is he? Somehow, Voldemort always forget. And each time, he asks—

"Fifteen. He's turning sixteen tonight," Barty answers. Staring at him intently. "Will this be the year, my Lord?"

The crow-animagus looks at him in question, withholding his breathes as if praying for something.

Voldemort knows Barty, throughout the years of being the boy's observer, has grown weak for him.

"We shall see."

Barty isn't pleased at the vague response, but he smartly keeps it to himself.

( Harry brightens at the sight of Voldemort. "You're here," he says, a little shyly. "You said something about a party?"

"I did." Voldemort's scarlet eyes slides at the boy's form. "You're wearing that?"

"What?" Harry pouts. "Is there something wrong with it?"

It isn't, but it's rather... revealing.

His dress shirt hangs loosely on his frame, collar hanging free to expose cold collarbones and long expanse of Harry's neck. If Voldemort observes any close, he could almost see the silhouette of his chest and nipples under the thin sheen material of his shirt.

"Nothing," Voldemort says a tinge too quickly. His voice drier than it should be. "Let's just go.")

Voldemort disappears the moment they step into the festivity.

With lanterns hanging above twisty twigs, with people, vampires, ghosts, faeries and a few centaurs all gather together to dance. All gaudy lights and loud music, Voldemort hates it in the same amount as Harry loves it.

Harry drinks a variety of liquor, from cherries, pumpkin and carrots. He explores the food he hasn't eaten, and glances discreetly to the creatures he's never seen up close before.

A vampire even asks him to dance, his eyes, for a brief second, lingering to the wide space of Harry's neck.

Harry cocks his head, considering, then nods, letting an arm curve around his waist and taking him to a moving crowd.

Voldemort does not care. He does not care when anger licks his temper, and the flames rise out to burn the vestiges of control he has left. The burning desire coils in his bones and he wants to—

To steal him away

To lick the teasing skin of his neck

To explore his hands under his shirt and watch him writhe under his touch

What he wants does not matter.

That boy will die, he swears to it, he swears—

( "I'm returning you to your godfathers—"

A tipsy Harry Potter pouts— pouts with fruit-scented lips, high off in the colour of his cheeks, and his dress shirt somehow draws looser and looser. "But I'm still dancing."

Voldemort then shoots a glare at Harry's partner from behind. "Not anymore. He left."

His partner pales, and does, in fact, leaves before disappearing out of sight.

Harry is stubborn, and wretches away his arm, folding his arms like a brat. "You didn't dance with me."

Irritable, Voldemort answers back, "You never spoke interest for it."

"That's because you left before I could," Harry grumbles, his dragon boot stomping on the ground.

"Next time."

The boy peers at his face, unconvinced. "You won't leave this time?"

"I promise."

And that seems enough to break Harry's dampened mood, he smiles, not to its usual cheerful extent, but its there, and it's still bright. Like his moon-lit glasses and starlight eyes. "Okay."

He grabs Voldemort's hand, tight and trustful.)

This is it.

Kill him.

Apparate to the furthest parts of the woods and kill him

Kill

Him

The boy is near-asleep, his fluttering eyelids and hazy irises, and gently, Voldemort places him to bed.

It never fails to surprise him of how his prophecy boy falls asleep lighter than a feather. And the boy is awake, only barely. "...will you ever tell me your name?"

"Not yet."

He lets out a quiet chuckle. "You said yet. Does this mean you'll tell me one day?"

"Maybe."

"You always seem to keep secrets from me. Will I never know or is that also a not yet?"

"Will you ever stop asking meaningless questions?

"And are they?" Harry whispers. "Are they really meaningless?"

Voldemort plucks the glasses out of the boy's face, ignoring how Harry's face seems softer without them. "For now, they are. Go to sleep."

He looks tired, his body sprawled in a position that could could sing a siren out to lure. And for a moment, he remembers Harry's earlier instance with the vampire. The beast inside of him bares its teeth, and so Voldemort bares his.

He sucks a small, pale mark on his neck.

Harry is fast asleep. And tomorrow he'd wake up with the sting of his fangs.

The boy, now aged sixteen at the stroke of midnight, lies asleep, neck claimed by a love bite and Voldemort watching him still, thinks next year, he will kill him, for sure.

(He is not aware the Fates above him shake their heads at the man who's not aware he has already fallen)

The Fall (2006) dir. Tarsem Singh

Costume design by Eiko Ishioka

Day 3(?) & 4.

If I ever got around to writing the script, I might post the story behind this, but I'm a lazy bum so that might be in the far future. lol

I'm very much into this.

Harry Potter AU for Gravity Falls and OtGW… I could not resist >_< 

More shall come. I want to post a bit every week depicting Years 2 through 5 for Dipper and Mabel. Most characters will appear. Thanks to mah best friend Serina for help on the research :) Expect more soon

The Parallel Betrayals of Damen and Erasmus

This short essay explores Erasmus and Damen's parallel paths into slavery.

Initial Attraction

From the start, both Erasmus and Damen are captivated by the physical beauty of their respective betrayers, Kallias and Jokaste. This initial emphasis on appearances sets the stage for their subsequent betrayals, highlighting how they were initially drawn in by their allure, only to be deceived by those they held in high regard.

Sudden Disorientation and Self-Recrimination

Their sudden and unexpected enslavement leaves Erasmus and Damen feeling disoriented. Erasmus turns to Kallias for guidance but quickly recalls Kallias's betrayal, making him feel foolish for wanting to ask Kallias what was happening. Similarly, Damen, usually a clear thinker, struggles to make sense of his bewildering new reality. He, too, blames himself for not seeing the betrayal coming, realizing his own naivety in the process.

Struggle for Understanding and Loss of Identity

Erasmus and Damen both struggle to understand the betrayals, even when presented with evidence. Their initial innocence and naivety make it challenging for them to discern the true intentions of their trusted companions. This struggle not only highlights their vulnerability to deception but also the profound loss of agency and erasure of their former identities accompanying their transition into slavery.

Strong Emotional Responses to Change

Their abrupt changes in surroundings evoke powerful emotional responses, underscoring their powerlessness. Erasmus shakes with fear upon entering an unknown part of the palace, while Damen's struggle intensifies as he realizes his fate.

Profound Emotional Impact

The betrayals suffered at the hands of Kallias and Jokaste deeply affect Erasmus and Damen. Erasmus grapples with a sense of loss at the hands of someone he loved, and Damen is shocked and anguished by Jokaste's betrayal. The distress in their voices only highlight the depth of their connections and the trauma of their betrayals.

Induction into Slavery

The ritualistic aspects of their induction into slavery, such as collars and paint for Damen, and the absence of traditional ceremonies for Erasmus, showcase the drastic shift in their identities and further emphasize their disempowerment.

Protective Facades

Kallias's choice to wear a plain gold pin aligns him with Kastor and hides his true motives to protect Erasmus from Kastor's wrath.

Similarly, Jokaste's response, 'Nothing, but choose between brothers,' downplays the choice between Damen and Kastor. Her cold demeanor shields her true affections and the sacrifice she made by choosing Kastor for Damen's safety.

Longing for Connection

Damen and Erasmus long for understanding and connection from Jokaste and Kallias, but recieve emotional detachment or cruelty due to societal norms and power dynamics. This is because Jokaste and Kallias must maintain the appearance of allegiance to Kastor while secretly working to save Damen and Erasmus' lives, preventing them from openly expressing their true feelings.

Hidden Affection

In moments of vulnerability, Kallias wishes Erasmus could be his first, while Jokaste's letter to Damen hints at lingering feelings and missed opportunities for intimacy. These instances reveal that Kallias and Jokaste concealed their love from Erasmus and Damen, adopting a cold facade to protect them from Kastor's reign of terror. While Erasmus remains unaware throughout the series, Damen later discovers Jokaste's enduring affection, and ultimately lets her go in recognition of her sacrifices to save his life.

In conclusion, the parallel experiences of Erasmus and Damen during their inductions into slavery reveal not only the harrowing challenges they face but also deepen our understanding of Kallias and Jokaste's complex characters and the sacrifices they make to protect their loved ones.

Okay, thought: In AUs where Auguste lives, how would Laurent, who's courting Damen, interact with Jokaste, who's Damen's lover? Like most of the fanfics have Jokaste going out w/ Kastor immediately or just not bother with them dating at all! Which begs the question of how would Laurent react.

Laurent might try to stop his feelings because he respects and wants Damen to be happy at first, but I think if he sees some similarities between her and himself, he might be irked that why can't it be him?? Hmm, then once he realizes that Jokaste wants a king she can manipulate easily, he might fight against Jokaste and Kastor.

I'm still unsure though. Like I imagine Laurent trying to make Damen jealous, like in the books, but it won't work if he thinks Damen sees him as a younger brother?

I tried Paint Tool Sai for this one, instead of the usual Medibang, and I gotta admit, it turned out good. A few more tweaks here and there, it’ll been much better.

This is Tom Lucitor by the way, from ‘Star vs. The Forces of Evil.’ Though I’ve never watched the show, Tom catched my eye so I decided to draw him.