#ooc: I wanted to draw him in a flower crown

[doctorcranes-ask]

Uncle Crow! You're here!

*puts a flower crown on your head*

~Nua, @batcave-secret-room

…sorry…do I know you?

[ixiot-ghostrebel]

Hey dude. It's me - anon with that SAGAU!kid!reader idea. Well, I was thinking about Liyue or Sumeru men (I'm that kind of person, that's into guys LOL). If there is a relationship, then only platonic one (or maybe father-child in Zhongli's case).

So I will try to go with Zhongli, Baizhu, Alhaitham and Cyno (probably Gaming, cuz he's like a son to me) That's it for now Hope I didn't ask for much tho 😅

CONNECTED TO THIS IDEA!

Aye aye, Anon! God!Child! Reader Platonic Meets Ups It is!

Also plz note that I might not be able to list every Sumeru/Liyue man there is in Genshin bc Im doing this at the top of my head—

Sumeru And Liyuen Men (And Gaming) With The God Child.

(Warning: Might be OOC!)

Cyno

The General Mahamatra may not exactly be well-versed when it comes to comforting words (except his puns—and even then, many people would say otherwise), but Cyno is a sincere man. You can trust that he will stick to his word.

And he does, when he promised to look after the Almighty Creator who is a child (not unlike Nahida, but they certainly have more of a mindset of a child—). But was he expecting your chaotic behavior (explosives Klee Style)? Yeah...No.

Bro nearly thought you were held at gunpoint or tricked/manipulated into doing it until he realized you did on your own.

"...Your Grace...Please don't blow up the store again." So instead of protecting you from harm by others, Cyno is more focused on protecting others from harm by you. As much as he doesn't like to think of it that way, you were a lot more dangerous than any eremite or sand monster there was out there.

At least he's still doing his job, being the General Mahamatra! You gift him a flower crown, and he has to take it or else. :)

Tighnari

Since he works with many young forest rangers, and tutors Collei, Tighnari is probably used to dealing with children. Dealing with the Almighty Creator certainly wasn't going to be an issue under this Forest Watcher's eyes.

That was...until you blew up a rishboland tiger. By yourself. On your own. Without getting hurt.

He was not the only freaking out, mind you. Collei was losing it, and Tighnari? He's internally screaming and getting metaphorical heart attacks.

"Your Grace, what were you thinking, running off like that? I know you're strong and you want to protect everyone, but you can really hurt the environment and—" He tries his best to hold back his sassiness while he scolds you, considering some children are much more emotional than others.

He sets up some basic rules for you to follow to make sure that you respect the Avidya Rainforest grounds, but also protect yourself from any form of harm.

Bro becomes a helicopter parent while you're under his care. Have fun, and I hope you enjoy mushrooms. Collei will cook you something else if you don't like what Tighnari cooks, though. :)

Kaveh

This man. He will BUILD you toys. He will DRAW you stories. He may even tell you stories himself.

Mehrak is your best friend when you're around Kaveh. And that man tries his best to make sure your time with him is good. He also refrains from drinking, which is nice! He's improving a little! :D

Absolutely gets worried if you run off without him knowing or if you're hiding from him for too long while playing hide and seek. He goes into an utter MELTDOWN.

And if you blow something up? Boy, if you thought Tighnari getting metaphorical heart attacks was bad, think again—Kaveh might actually get a heart attack.

"Your Grace! What—What were you thinking? Where were you? What did you do? Why did I hear an explosion?!" He's trying to keep himself as calm as possible, but Kaveh is an emotional man. He's kind of failing—

Luckily, with your go-lucky attitude, you pull Kaveh around and take his mind off of work and your explosions! Win-win! :D

Al-haitham

The moment Nahida assigned him the task of taking care of the Almighty Creator, who is a child, bro is planning his things carefully. He is safe-keeping his books, he's renovating Kaveh's bedroom (bc yes), he's buying a few colouring books and crayons.

What he caught him by surprise was not how trusting you were to new strangers you barely knew. It was how you had fun with explosions and exploding everything in your path.

You can imagine as you're being carried away by the Scribe, he's giving you a one-sentence scolding.

"Your Grace, don't ever do that again, it's not nice." He would go into further detail, but he's sure you wouldn't care all that much about data and analysis and stuff like that, so he just ends it as it is.

You're still gonna do it, there's no doubt. It's just now Al-haitham is preparing for your next incoming attack as well.

Zhongli

Grandpa gramps is here woohoo! He's probably the most calmest out of everyone on this request list LOL. You can imagine he's following you calmly, apologizing and paying (through Childe's money cough) for the damages you caused.

Believe it or not, but it was Hu Tao who found you first and decided to take you to Mr. Zhongli for babysitting. He contemplates how the Director found you and brought you back.

The first time you explode something, he is definitely surprised. And concerned of the people who got hurt. You can't fault him for being worried for the mortals that were involved—Liyue Harbor is basically his child. Bro's been governing it for thousands of years.

"Your Grace, Little One, let's try not to put strain in the efforts of an adult's day-to-day life." He scolds you, and will definitely be more keen on your whereabouts, but he does this in a gentle tone. At the very least, you give him something to do that doesn't require him to present himself as the supposedly "deceased" Geo Archon.

Baizhu

With the guy's health issues...it's hard to say if he'll be able to keep up with you and your constant outings all around Liyue Harbor. Changsheng is definitely worried about Baizhu's stress levels as he has to figure out what you did this time and make sure no one was harmed.

He constantly has to ask Qiqi to go find you since he literally cannot keep up with your speed, lest he actually faints or something. You were that quick.

Luckily, if he hears of your whereabouts, he will definitely arrive just in time to apologize and give free check-ups to everyone involved in your explosion party.

"Now, Your Grace, please refrain from hurting others. It's not good to hurt someone's health." You can certainly expect Baizhu to give you a scolding—as well as a basic understanding of medical care in case either you or someone else will need it, and he can't make it there in time.

Like Kaeya (And Tighnari in this post), Baizhu will definitely write you some rules in a notebook and makes you recite them at least twice a day so that you remember not to hurt other people or damage your own health.

He is a doctor for a reason. It's his job to look out for others—even chaotic children with explosives.

Gaming

HAVE NO FEAR, GAMING IS HERE!

Bro is basically your Big Brother who does cool dances and gives you snacks and protects you. Since he's a real foody, you'll definitely know which places are the best to buy snacks!

You find his Wushou Dancing cool as well. He takes pride in it tbh. I mean, who wouldn't be ecstatic if the Almighty Creator loves it?

He does get a bit panic-y when he sees you blow things up, though. As much as he wants to pursue Wushou Dancing as his daily career, he still needs his job as a Shipment Guard.

"Y/N! No! Don't blow that up—!" Yes, he took you out once to travel with the shipment goods for one time, and he's never taken you with him again unless you promise not to blow anything that are near the goods.

He usually leaves you in Liyue Harbor when he's making these Shipment trips, but once he returns, you can certainly count on him to give you some tasty snack or a fulfilling dinner, as well as a free small Wushou Dance.

Big Brother Gaming does not disappoint!

Ghost Rebel Side Notes: I AM VERY DEAD. I AM SO SORRY SOBBING. Life hits you hard and fast sometimes sigh. I've been so busy I haven't been posting much—but rest assured, I have quite a lot of posts for you guys very soon!

✦ Check out The Ghost Rebel’s Blog Description & Info Page to See if Their Mailbox is Open! ✦

[damnfandomproblems]

Fandom Problem #4736:

When someone writes a 5 page essay about why it's problematic to draw this male character in a skirt. " We don't know much about this character's fashion preferences but. . ." Even if we know, it's not a big deal. Not everyone draws characters in clothes they'd actually wear. Do you also complain about how OOC it is to draw certain characters wearing cat ears or flower crowns?

My favourite character (not the character they're complaining about) from the same series is also often misinterpreted in fandom. I once saw people say that he was better off in an unhealthy environment where he was miserable when he's doing a lot better where he currently is. But you don't see me writing a 5 page essay about why that's problematic. Also, I know that interpretation is popular among those who like it when he was darker and edgier and/or they want to ship him with his old partner. I'm not implying that's a bad thing by the way, there's nothing wrong with wanting a darker and edgier character or wanting a particular ship dynamic.

So why are you writing a 5 page essay about how problematic it is to draw a male character in a skirt when there are infinitely more problematic interpretations (my example was just one of many)? The short answer is that you personally don't like seeing him in a skirt so you think that by phrasing it in a "this could be problematic" way would get people to stop drawing it.

[qjaidenhere]

BEGGING to hear about ur familoier au plssss

Okok so!! This is a Jaiden and Bobby centric au with some Roier (I mostly came up with this au because I was sad about Jaiden and Bobby and wanted them to be happy) it’s very slice of life fluffy modern au- just them being happy together :]] just know this is extremely self indulgent because I want them to be happy and if feels ooc or something no it doesn’t :]

much more under cut

Bobby often goes to the park with his family!! He likes to brings his fake sword and swing it at anything and everything he sees. he also likes to pick the many flowers around the park to make flower crowns!! It’s rare for a friend (or parent) of Bobby’s to not have at least one of his flower crowns (and his parents often have at least one flower of his on them all the time)

Bobby also loves to paint with his family!! He will draw on canvas, walls, his own skin, whatever, so he often has doodles up and down his arms. The family will often put aside time in the day for them to paint together (at Bobby’s request) and it’s often his highlight of the day :D he likes to copy Jaiden’s arm tattoos with his drawings on his arms (though he won’t admit it to her) and he often draws his family or his friends!!

Bobby also has two dogs- a big brown newfoundland named Oso and his husky named Tripita (he’s also named the two raccoons outside and sometimes tries to take them inside but they always escape)

Jaiden is a freelance artist who works on commission who is roommates with Roier. She is learning Spanish for both Roier and Bobby (who is bilingual) and they both encourage and help her while she’s learning! She went to law school for a bit when she was younger- but ended up dropping out.

all the eggs go to the same school and are all in the same class (for the older eggs) and the younger eggs (when they come into the story) often hang out with them at lunch and such :D Roier also babysits Tilin on the weekends so they and Bobby are pretty good friends (though they sometimes joke at being rivals) and Dapper sometimes comes over for sleepovers!

All the eggs are kind of close which means that their parents also all know each other because of their kids- it’s how some of them get to know each other at first but a fair few knew each other beforehand!

Misc thingys:

-the city is name quesadilla city

-jaiden once spent a day going from store to store to find the specific brand of french fries that she and Bobby likes lmao

-Jaiden often shows Bobby the basics of her job/s because of his interest in art

-Bobby is in awe of Juannaflippa because of her nerf gun

-all of the eggs are around 8-10 in this au I think but I’m still figuring out ages

-the au is called a garden of missed promises

-jaiden dyes her hair and convinces Roier to get a streak (she wanted him to get blue but they settled on red) and Bobby begged enough that they got him a blue underside of his hair

-they love to go biking together around the city

-the federation is kinda just the government for now,, they’re not nearly as bad as the canon federation and mostly are just in the background

-when they save up enough money they sometimes go out to a cottage on the countryside and hang around there

-Bobby and Tilin originally met when they had a fight at school that turned into their Roier and Q fighting over who has the best kid (they mostly made up though)

also it’s a sort of fantasy modern au only in that they are still hybrids instead of all being human- Jaiden is a parrot hybrid, Roier is a spider hybrid, Bobby is a dragon hybrid, pretty standard (not all the eggs are dragon hybrids though)

it’s VERY early qsmp based if you couldn’t tell already though I do want to add some of the other language creators (especially cellbit for spiderbit) but I’m still working on figuring out how they would work in this au! also Pepito and Empanada are going to be confusing to fit into this au- I don’t want to not include them but idk,, if y’all have any ideas they would be greatly appreciated

also people who expressed interest: (sorry for tag! I won’t do it again I just wanted to show y’all in all the same place)

@13minmailman

@kaihuntrr

@sleepdeprivedbooklover

@fruitlessjam48

@v01dw4tch3r

[wispy-fox]

Am I allowed to draw you wearing the two flower crowns you have been given? (P.S. What is your favourite colour for the first flower crown)

Oh! You want to draw moi? Splendid! I'll be honored if you do! :D

It's the same color as my name, champ!

~ᗯIᒪ

[OOC: Here are the flowers he tends to if you want to draw any of them as the flower crowns!]

[cultgambles]

Nearly a Blip in Time

I love historical sukuna so here i am. Also i am lowkey so confused at his story. Like i know he was a sorcerer at one point in history but like when did he get all his arms?? BC according to the wiki he was killed and then became a cursed spirit and then his fingers were waxy (lol weird choice of word) ?? anyway, in this, hes not a people hes a monster.

He’s also OOC. first time writing for JJK, but i wanted something soft hehe. Reader bites the dust

Wc: 3033

Masterlist | Requests? open

“[Y/N], you can’t be serious. No way a person of your . . . stature . . . could research in depth about something as big as Ryomen Sukuna. In fact, I’d wager that you wouldn’t even get within 5 feet of his temple,” the local teacher scoffs, disbelief plain as day on his face.

“You wager? What if I do get within 5 feet, then? Will you take me in as your student?” You cross your arms, staring him down. “Do you accept the challenge? I mean, you said it to begin with.”

The scholar throws up a hand, blowing you off. “Fine, whatever. You have half a year to write an in-depth dissection of the demon lord Ryomen Sukuna, and you will report your findings back to me at this very hour once your time is up. I expect perfection.”

“And if I win?” You ask, writing down every word he has said.

“You won’t die.”

“And?” You shoot him an unamused glare.

“And I will take you in as a student. God curse your father for teaching you to read and write.”

“He knew it would be beneficial for me. Now, sign here so you don’t try to cheat your way out of this,” you thrust the wood block and paper attached towards him. The scholar grumbles, almost breaking the ink brush in the process of writing his signature.

You carefully tuck the contract under your arm and scurry off, not before telling him you’d be back.

His laughter echoes around you.

At home, your father was amazed and horrified to learn of this deal, but he knew nothing could stop you. You gave him one last hug for the time being and gathered what little belongings you had in a knapsack.

“Don’t worry, father, I’ll be back before you know it.” His warmth lingers on your person, seeping into your bones. You’ll miss this.

Sukuna’s temple isn’t far from your village, in fact, he was revered as a protector of some sorts. Perhaps one quick to anger and that changed on the dime. It was a couple miles up the mountain where the snow thinned in winter and where the flowers bloomed in the spring. You’ve been to it only a handful of times before, once with your father, and several with the other village ladies. A yearly tradition, you suppose.

The temple is always well kept, the torii gates painted a pristine red, the surrounding area swept and neat, no dust to be seen near the wells or on the floor. Some, like the scholar you had made a wager with, merely believed he was a spirit, a demon of imagination. Others, like you and your mother, really believed in his existence. Before it becomes too late, you decide to scope out the area and set up camp a ways away from the temple so as to not disturb him. You briefly wonder if he was here or away at some other village. Would he be wreaking havoc? or be somewhat kind and spare the folks living there? You decide to set up your small camp under the camouflage and protection of the trees, maybe fifty feet from the river. You’d be much happier to stay at home, but the paths could become treacherous for a young thing like you at night. Maybe a little bit of the great outdoors is what you needed, anyway.

Almost a week passes before you ever have the hint of seeing the demon in the flesh. It’s on one of the days where you bring a small offering. Not much since you can’t exactly go home and cook a nice meal every time, but usually a flower crown or other type of decor.

When you do see him, however, time slows to a crawl. You swear your legs feel like jelly as he glances down at you. Sharp-featured and arrogant, beautiful, all man. He stands tall, towering above you. He has to stoop to reach the depths of the temple from the doorway.

“Well, well,” he croons, “what do we have here?” His four eyes are the color of what flows through each being and his canines sharp as knives. Truly, he’s beautiful, sculpted muscles rippling under inky black tattoos, blazing red eyes.

You bow deeply and straighten your shoulders, gaze still downcast to be respectful. “I just wanted to make this offering to you. I know it’s not much, but I hope you will find it useful.” You raise the small gift above your head, feeling his gaze roll over your body, sharp nails lightly scraping against your skin, grasping the wreath.

“Peculiar,” he says. His thumb and forefinger tilt your head up and you struggle to avert your eyes. “What’s your purpose here, little human?”

“I made a bet with the town scholar. I’ve to write about you and return with my findings so I can become a real student there.”

“A student, eh?”

“Please! I’m fascinated by you,” you plead, feeling his grip on your chin tighten.

“I’m intrigued, if only slightly,” he muses, releasing you harshly enough you’re forced to regain your balance.

You soon learn his ego is massive, that’s probably the only reason he spared you. He’d just love something written about him, wouldn’t he? Ever the gracious god, he lets you stay in one of the temple rooms. You had offered to take one the furthest from his own so he could have plenty of space, but he put you up right across from his instead.

Something about you being near to always capture his persona. Whatever.

Life at the temple is never truly boring. there’s always something going on; whether someone bringing gifts, like an unlucky human sacrifice, or some warriors barging in thinking they could actually harm the demon.

Sukuna likes you watching him tear apart these people limb from limb the best. The first couple times you couldn’t stand it, but it soon became a natural occurrence. Sure, you felt bad for those folks, but they never came truly prepared.

“What’re you writing now, pet?” he asks you one day. You glance up at him. He’s wringing the blood out of one of his sleeves, the blood drip drip dripping to the floor in red rain.

“I’ve noticed you like toying with your prey. If you’re in a good mood, you’ll let them think you have the upper hand,” you tell him.

“And if I’m in a bad mood?”

“Slice them in half!” He nods. His black nails gleam in the sunlight and you watch a pair of arms reach up behind his head as a cushion as the other balances to sit next to you.

“I really like how the trees change color in the autumn,” he says nonchalantly.

“Because they’re the color of blood?” you offer. You draw a small leaf on your paper’s corner.

“Maybe. Their lives are so short, unlike mine. Not that I’ve been a curse for too terribly long.”

You bite your tongue. Is it lonely? bounces around in your head.

“What will I do when my little scholar leaves too?” You flush and stammer that you still have a couple months. Sukuna pauses in thought, then, a sinister smirk gracing his lips.

The more you get to know him, the more you realize that he’s much more bored with life. Killing random people stated his boredom and gave him something to do, it wasn’t until later that he learned to revel in it. The more you got to know him, the more you didn’t want to leave.

He taught you, too. Weird things, usually, but still, useful things. He wasn’t all that good a teacher, but he was patient and expected you to figure shit out on your own. Sometimes he took you down to the market and showed you how to best barter.

And to steal.

Other times, he would sit and watch you cook silently. He always says your cooking wasn’t crap, so you just take it as a compliment.

Six months have passed since you first climbed the mountain. Sukuna finds you in your room packing what little belongings you have.

“That time already?” he muses, leaning against the door. You hum in acknowledgement. “What if they don’t even accept me?”

“Then you’ll return, of course.”

“That’s a nice thought.”

Of course, little did you know, but to Sukuna, that was a command.

He didn’t just watch your figure walk away, no, he followed silently behind, taking in the way you’d stop to study a particularly interesting tree or follow the clouds.

Your village is still the same. Same rickety well, same sunken houses, same sort of dreariness when you left.

You make your way towards the school house, it’s kind of near the back of the village, backed up to the lush forest. “I’ve done it!” you call, standing tall. “Not only have I been within 5 feet of his temple, I’ve been inside. I’ve had actual conversations with the demon Ryomen Sukuna.” You fish out your copious amount of notes and dissertation, shoving it in front of you.

“I’m surprised,” is all the teacher says, “give it here.” You hand him the documents, and he flips through the pages.

“So?”

“So what? For all I know, this could all be made up.”

“What? It’s not! How would I make up his favorite fruit or the way he likes his meat cooked? Papaya and rare, by the way,” you cross your arms.

“Then you should have brought him down with you.”

“You called?” his deep, rumbling voice cuts through the silence.

“S-Sukuna? What are you doing here?”

“I told you, pet, you’d return to me.”

“Sukuna-sama!” the scholar bows. “This is all a misunderstanding, their findings were great! Very convincing!”

“Give them to me.”

“Yes, sir!” he wails, pressing the papers to the other’s chest.

“You didn’t think he would actually keep that bet, did you?” Sukuna asks you.

“Well, I was hopeful!”

“Aw sweet,” he mocks you lightly. “You don’t need to be surrounded by such inferiors. Come now.” It seemed just a snap and somehow the scholar’s head was lobbed off.

You nod dumbly, barely processing what exactly just transpired. Did he kill him? For you? Surely there must be something in it for him.

But the way he holds out one of his four hands for you to grasp sets a fire in your heart. It’s small, no grassland bonfire, but a smolder that you know will become a steady heat.

His hand is rough and calloused while yours only has a few bumps from holding your ink brush so tightly and for so long. Sukuna leads you back to the temple, guiding you back into the room you stayed before.

“Why,” you ask him softly.

He shrugs. “You’re amusing to me. I like the silly words you use.”

“So you like my company?”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” he chuckles, running a hand over your head.

“Hey! You’re gonna mess up my hair!” you giggle.

“Don’t worry, next time it will be because your head will be atop my bed.” Shameless. Truly shameless. “Just keep writing about me.”

Somewhere in between you returning to the temple and now is when you find yourself tangled in his sheets. Two of his arms wrap securely around your waist and hip, another caressing your cheek. If you’re being completely honest, it seemed as if he adored you. He never coddles you per say, but anything you’d mention off hand, he would remember. An object you wanted, or even that you wanted to take a bath later that day. Sometimes he would even brush out your tangles for you.

You’re surprised by the normality of it all, how he’s gentle with you, unlike others who dare to cross his path.

Waking up together is a part of your daily routine. (Every morning, he gives you a quick kiss on the forehead.) (You trace the patterns of his tattoos lazily.) You’d ask him about you and him sometimes, and he always responds that he’ll always keep his little one happy, that you belong to him. Sometimes, in the back of your mind, you wonder if he’s actually being truthful or he’s just passing the time. Maybe the truth is a little bit of both, but you’re happy anyway.

He likes holding you, the two of you sitting by the river in the flowerbeds, watching nature for hours at a time.

Other times, he lets down his walls in the four corners of the temple. Every time he comes home smelling of blood and decay, you drag him to the bathroom and run a hot bath. Your nimble fingers glide through his hair, stopping to pull out leaves and scrub away dirt from his skin. More often than not, he would pull you in with him, your laugh ringing in his ears like bells.

But happiness must come to an end.

Apparently.

It’s a weekday when it happens.

Sorcerers.

They come in doves, feet stomping like drums.

“I guess they’re tired of me wreaking havoc, hmm?” he muses.

“There’s a lot more than usual, are you sure you’ll be alright?” you whisper softly, cupping his cheek.

He holds your hand there, leaning in and closing his eyes. “Who do you think I am? Of course I’ll be fine. You will be too.”

“Okay,” you watch him leave, a familiar aura of danger seeping in like a thick fog.

But it’s not okay.

Someone finds you and they drag you out of the temple by the hair. You’re thrown to the ground harshly.

“What, a little harlot? That demon won’t bother saving you, don’t even look at him. You’re nothing to him,” the sorcerer tells you, pressing a steel toed boot to your throat. You’re gasping for a breath, any.

“Obviously you think I’m worth something since you’re dealing with me,” you struggle to voice.

His nostrils flare, eyes wide. “See you in hell,” he snarls. You’re feeling everything and nothing at once. Surely the wound in your chest as you bleed, but you can’t seem to think of anything good or bad. You’re clutching your wound, sputtering. As if sensing you, miraculously, Sukuna turns in your direction as his fist rips through someone’s chest. Faintly, you hear a roar of anger, and then the screams around you are deafening.

The dozens of sorcerers that tried to defeat Ryomen Sukuna lay at bizzare angles, each in their own pool of blood.

It’s this horrible humorless laugh, his open mouth desperate and hungry like he wants to devour the world in punishment for taking the one true thing he held dear to him. The last piece holding his humanity together. He doesn’t know how you even got out of the temple, that’s definitely not where he left you. You’re staring blankly ahead, but he notices your hand gripping the pendant he gifted you.

Sukuna sighs, kneeling next to you, holding you close to his chest. He doesn’t know what you would have preferred: whether to be buried or cremated, and there’s no point now. Ultimately, Sukuna places you in a bed of flowers. He makes his way back to the temple, stepping around the bodies that litter the floor. Maybe he can threaten some laymen to come clean up the mess.

When he returns to the main room, the first thing he notices is the shelf with all the books you loved. Papers strewn everywhere, pages bent.

Your findings about him on the top shelf are gone.

That’s not something he realizes until much, much, much later when he’s ambushed after terrorizing another village. It’s been years without you, and yet he still feels anger of how you were taken from him. He promised he would protect you, at least, in the sanctum of his own mind, never voicing it to you. And yet, he’s failed.

Your coping mechanisms suck, you’d probably say if you saw him now. But I’ll write it down anyway, and we can cross it out later, if you want.

Like your death, he’s not even sure how the sorcerers managed to defeat him.

His twenty fingers cut up, separated through time and distance. Dormant, for now.

—PRESENT TIME—

“Oi, brat, ask that blindfold asshole what those are.”

“Ask what are what?” his host, Yuuji Itadori quips.

“Over there, on display. The books.”

Yuuji hates to admit it, but he’s curious too. How important are they to be kept here, and in a glass case, no less? Anyway, he hardly ever gets to see cursed objects in the flesh.

“Gojo-sensei! What are those!?” he shouts.

“They’re books, don’t you know what a book is?”

“Okay, yeah, but what’s their use? Like, why are they here?” Yuuji pulls at his hair.

“Hmm, they’re written by a [Y/N]. Long ago, not much information about the author, but the writing is phenomenal. And all about that little curse inside of you,” Gojo smirks, running a finger down Yuuji’s forehead and bopping him on the nose.

“About Sukuna?”

“Pretty mundane stuff, if you ask me. I’ve been told the sorcerers that defeated Sukuna used those texts. Not sure how ‘he hates when food offerings have tomatoes’ was useful, but apparently it was,” he shrugs, looking at his watch. “Ah, would you look at the time, I’ve gotta go! Pressing matters with a special-grade. And the candy shop I want to go to closes in 30!”

“Later, sensei,” Yuuji waves. “You don’t like tomatoes?”--silence-- “What, no response? You’re suddenly shy now?”

Sukuna hears him, and ignores him as per usual.

So, my little scholar’s books were stolen, huh? Here, all this time?

[cloudsrust]

*Breathes in* random and partly OOC headcanons time? Yes- This time about in which districts and with who Rin and Purl-hew (only these two for now since it’s already long,,) could pass their free time and how they started to hang out ‘cause why not!

-Obviously spoiler warning-

Rin: Fave district: Cast Tech and Metro Division. Due to his interest in mechanics and technology he likes to stroll around and admire both the newest and oldest machines and such- studying them thanks to a built in scan (a gift from Neon after he found out about his interest) that let���s him see their various components and function. 

Faves to hang around: Tatiana and B2J.  -He started spending time with Tatiana due to Neon insisting for him to tag along during NSR meetings and discussions (to prepare him to take his place once the time would come). At first they would simply talk about energy quotas and business but once those topics were taken care off both Neon and Tatiana would start letting loose and recall the old times or just interesting stories. Because of that Rin came to know of Tati’s past as Kul Fyra. From that point on- when left to go alone- the white android would ask Quartz about those experiences, curious and fascinated by the idea of her more rebellious and chaotic times.  After knowing him enough and seeing such a light in his eyes (surprising for an android- especially Rin out of all), Tatiana let him see and even try some of her oldest performance outfits- well the one that didn’t go in flames that is (not that she was gonna wear those again anytime soon anyway).  This rock fascination is kept a secret between the two from Neon- Rin is worried about what his captain reaction would be and has no intention to find out. Tatiana understands, so her lips are sealed.

-With B2J it started in quite the messy way- one day a group of rabid fans managed to recognise him and to escape them he had to resort to jumping into a manhole and wait in the sewer for the situation to descalate. It must have been quite close to B2J hideout since he was found by Zuke, out for Ellie’s night sewer-walk. Even if feeling iffy about welcoming the android in their home- he still invited him to stay and hide for the night, as long as no flirting towards May would take place (Rin ended up flirting with him instead- perhaps out of spite-?). This one time rescue turned into Rin coming down to hangout, relax and simply be himself without worry- both May and especially Zuke growing fond of his presence after he started dropping his idol act and opening up to them about the stress of his position. He is welcome in anytime he needs- even by Ellie, who doesn’t mind the new extra pets.

Purl-hew: Fave district: Natura and Metro Division. -They love how calm and serene the place feels, the bright yet warmer lights soothing their sensible eyes- letting them wear normal- more delicate looking- glasses instead of sunglasses. The botanical gardens are their favorite spot of all to admire- and also where they asks the most questions about gardening for their own greenhouse. Sitting down at one of the cafes while enjoying the herbs tea fragrance in the air as the wind sings among the trees’ fronds is the best part of his free time. -They like to just sit down at the edges of the city and look over the boats floating on and about. The sky is also quite beautiful at night- a nice distraction from the bright lights of the rest of the district.

Faves to hang around: Yinu and Mama (Amaranth)  It started with Amaranth urgently needing someone to watch over Yinu while she had to be away, unable to bring her daughter along. With Tatiana busy and the other not being her top choices- the one remaining was Neon J. She trusted the captain to be responsible and attentive enough to take care of Yinu for the day- and so the cyborg thought too! Hell he could (almost) keep under control 5 androids at once- how hard could a lil’ child be? Answer- very. After many failed attempts at entertaining Yinu- both from Neon and 1010- Purl-hew took the matter in their own hands, to the relief of the rest of the group. They led the child prodigy to the part of the mansion that would feel more like her home district: the greenhouse, First an experiment to make fully plants powered androids, now- just a greenhouse that Purl takes care of. The idea worked- the familiar flowery scent contrasting with the cold and greasy metallic one of the rest of the place- calming her down. The others either completely bailed the situation (Zimelu and Haym) or just came in just to check on them and/or bringing in things that could help out. When Mama came back for Yinu she found the latter and Purl making flower crowns together (using the ones from 1010 gift bouquets) so they could match. The greenhouse now seemingly having a play spot right in the middle of it, drawings with pencils and highlighters (Eloni’s attempt) scattered on the rug they were on, on the side a whole real tea set (Neon’s attempt) to play pretend with- both quickly abandoned in favor of the flowers. Amaranth had never seen her daughter go along so well with anyone that wasn’t family and after hearing from Yinu that “the tall blue robot” was interested in gardening she was delighted. Before going she made sure to mention that Neon was welcome to bring Purl-hew along next time he came over to Natura. Even though they mostly talked about plants whenever they visited, the topic of music soon came up- leading to Yinu not only showing them how to properly garden but also guiding them on how to play the piano. When he first heard of it, Neon suggested that he could upgrade Purl with such knowledge in no time if they really wanted- the android refused: “It would be a mean move- and also quite boring”.  They’re a slow learner but neither them or Yinu mind it one bit.

-

I might write about the remaining three too- just thought this was already a lot as it was with only two;;  I cannot summarize for the life of me lmao.

[somefandomimagines]

hii!! so i would like a mcyt/dreamsmp matchup (btw, sorry if this is bad because ive never really done one of these before) but i go by she/her pronouns and im ace, biromantic. i love to draw, write and play videogames. i can be quiet shy at times but i go completely out of my shell when im with friends or just people. i can be quite clumsy and chaotic at times though. my personality type is isfp and my zodiac is sagittarius, my moon sign is pisces. :)

OKOKOKOK I know.. That this MIIIGHT be a bit ooc but.... I’ve got a REALLY cute idea that I can’t help I MATCH YOU WITH..... TECHNOBLADE!! -SO FIRST OF ALL - There WILL be times where you guys just... Repeat each other in a chaotic way - Like imagine Techno goes “LET’S GOOOO”, you’d repeat “LET’S GOOOO” and then he’d repeat it - A chaotic cycle that sometimes gets on someone else’s nerves but it’s hella funny - When Techno got betrayed by Tommy, you were there for him - Techno almost lost his trust in everyone, yet you reminded him that he does have someone there for him - Btw, he fully supports your hobbies - But sometimes he’ll see your drawings and go “That’s good, but I can do better” and then draw a shitty lil’ doodle to ‘prove’ he’s better - That’s just his way of showing you that he loves your drawings - Ok, as a fellow ISFP, we both need affection - Techno isn’t too good at showing feelings, but he does so by physical touch and doing favors for you - You absolutely know he loves you - A simple touch on the shoulder from him says a thousand words - Also catch him off guard with kisses - While he may not blush much, it’ll silence him for a moment or two - And maybe PDA isn’t really his thing, he’ll gladly hold you when you two are alone - He’d do anything in the world for you - Also he loves spending time with you - You guys don’t have to talk to know that you both are having fun - Btw he teaches you how to fight - Though he still protects you despite you being able to fend for yourself - Also.... Any present you give him, he’ll keep forever - You made him a flower crown? HE STILL HAS IT DESPITE THE FLOWERS WILTING - You complete this man - He wants to fight for Anarchy just so you two can live happily together without having to worry - While he does like the idea of Anarchy, he likes the idea of you more btw - He has made you a sword with a heart carved in it - He gives you gold things bc he things you look pretty in gold - You guys met during a battle and he’s been by your side since

[yunohawkeye]

Lazing on a Sunday afternoon (Vincent x MC)

I tried a little story about may favorite vampire~ Hopefully it isn’t too OOC... or sucks too much ^^

And thanks to @shrimpalompa for helping me with the beginning :)

Vincent and MC had planned a trip to a nearby lake for some time since Dazai told them about it. He promised a marvelous view especially in spring when the flowers started to bloom.

And he certainly didn't exaggerate when he told them about it.

Vincent and MC were standing at a hill taking in the mesmerizing view of the landscape.

It was a sea at the bottom of the mountain on the one side and on the other were fields of freshly blooming flowers in a ray of colors that complemented each other in bright pastel colors as if they were taken just out of one of Vincent's paintings.

Both of them took a few moments to take in the peaceful and calming atmosphere that place gave off and MC wasn't able to keep in her excitement which caused an almost breathless, “Wow” escape.

Vincent immediately knew the image he wanted to capture with his brushes in that moment.

Turning around to face him MC smiled as she spoke, “It's gorgeous! I can't wait to see what you'll create with it! But if it's you it can only be beautiful!”

With a light blush covering his cheeks he looked at her and answered softly, “I'll try my best!”

After a moment they make their way down the hill and build up the equipment Vincent needed.

When everything was put in the right angle and embattled MC takes out the book Leonardo recommended to her and made her way to sit down and read behind Vincent who seemed confused by her actions, “What are you doing?”

Looking up from her now sitting position she answered, “Reading a book.”

Seeming to be even more puzzled as before he replied, “But why there?”

“I don't want to be in the way of your painting”

“But you said it's going to be beautiful”, Vincent commented with a quite serious tone for him.

MC had to take some time to process what he was saying as she stared at him utterly confused on which he seemed to catch on as his expression changed into an even softer one, “How can it be beautiful when you're not in it?”

After realizing what he just said MCs cheeks darkened a deep shade of red as she felt her body heating up. He couldn't mean that, right?

Being unable to form a proper sentence at the moment only a few syllables escaped her mouth which caused Vincent's light smile turn into a closed-eye one and eliciting a little chuckle from him.

Becoming the master of her senses again MC stood up with her still burning cheeks and made her way to another tree now in front of the aisle but also noticing the light blush that lingered on Vincent, too.

As she was sitting there getting completely immersed into the book Vincent was mesmerized how the light shining through the tree crowns was enlightening her features perfectly. He wasn't even aware of the smile that was unable to leave his face as he started with the first few brushes.

When the sun was already close to setting Vincent set the last draw of his brush, “Klaar!”

Letting his look shift to the still reading girl leaning against the tree, still completely mesmerized by the pages, he wasn't able to contain a smile spreading again that held more expression than he normally showed.

He took of his apron and walked over to her as he knelt down in front of her, still not being noticed. Reaching out to her with one hand while softly speaking her name so he wouldn't rip her out of her world failed as MC jerked up the moment his hand covered a few sentences over her page and let out a little shriek.

Vincent immediately took a step back and apologized, “I'm sorry! I-I didn't... mean to...”

Before he was able to finish MC reassured him, “It's all right! No worries! I... just get absorbed into books from time to time.”

She scratched her neck and let out a little embarrassed chuckle as she put in a bookmark on her current page.

Vincent gave her a relieved smile, “Want to see it?”

“The painting? It's already finished?”

With a nod Vincent offered her his hand to get up which she gladly took as he guided her to the painting, not letting go of the warmth of her hand.

The painting was covered in a sheet and as they came to a halt Vincent asked one last time, “You really want to see it?”

He probably seemed like his almost emotionless self on the outside but he was dying of excitement on the inside.

As MC nodded he pulled on the sheet, revealing his work. He swore he never felt as nervous as in this moment as her eyes took in every brush he made.

But as much as she was able to admire the exquisite technique he used she was mostly stunned by the motive he chose.

She knew he wanted her in the painting. But in her mind she pictured herself as a little girl just leaning against a tree in the background or just on the border of the painting. She definitely didn't expect this.

The painting didn't contain a lot of the beautiful scenery behind her but it was filled with a woman sitting on a tree stump completely focused with the content of the book in her hands with a glistering lake and vividly colored flower fields in the background.

In other words: He didn't paint the scenery. He painted her!

Being at a loss of words MC stuttered, “I-...I don't know what to say...”

But her speechlessness seemed to have the opposite effect on Vincent as he replied with a hint of sadness in his voice, “You don't like it?”

Instantly turning around MC clarified, “No! I love it! I just... I can't believe you'd actually prefer painting me over this beautiful scenery...”

Taking a step in her direction Vincent cupped her cheeks in his hands as he whispered, “You're right. This scenery is beautiful but with you in it, it's perfect.”

The look in his eyes spoke more than a thousand words in that moment and it was only accompanied with him leaning forward and shortly brushing his lips against hers, leaving a tingling sensation as he continued, “And you're the most beautiful thing out of everything I've ever seen so far. I'd prefer painting you over anything.”

Leaning in again he now kissed her deeper, letting their lips and tongues dance in a rhythm that only the two of them knew and slowly getting lost in the feeling of the other.

In their haste it turned more heated very quickly and soon MC was lying on the grass with Vincent towering over her.

Their kisses wandered from their mouths to other places and in the spur of the moment he went farther down and slowly kissed up her legs until he reached her thighs, coaxing little moans out of her.

But before they were able to get farther with their actions a distant voice brought them back to reality.

Walking down the hill, Theo announced himself, “You know, I like seeing you happy, mijn broer. But not that happy.”

Quickly removing themselves from their awkward positions Vincent and MC stood up both with a blush covering your cheeks.

Theo just let out a sigh as he continued, “I would love to let you have your fun but le comte wants to hold another feast today.”

[denimwrites-archive]

Flowers and Feelings

Prompt: I saw this headcanon on @lovethyfanperson ‘s page (created by @nosemeocurrenada77) and I thought it was too cute to pass up Original Post

Fandom: Dear Evan Hansen

Pairing: Connor Murphy X Reader

Summary: Senior year is really sinking in, and you don’t want to leave behind all that has grown to be familiar. Connor shares your sentiments and assuages your fears, but Evan doesn’t quite agree with his way of going about it.

Word Count: 1,778

Warnings: Language, slight talk of mental illness, fear of the future, nothing super major I don’t think

A/N: A big thank you to @nosemeocurrenada77 and @lovethyfanperson for allowing me to use this prompt. I hope I did okay since this is my first time writing anything for DEH and I still haven’t been able to read the book yet, so if anything is ooc I probably don’t know. And I kind of focused more on Connor and flowers than Evan but I think that’s also because I don’t think he’d want to be very confrontational idk (Also it’s not like I’m projecting on the reader or anything, so what if I’m a senior and slowly dying from the prospect of imminent adulthood? Nope totally not about me)

~~~

It had been another long week of hell, a.k.a. school, and you were ready to collapse from the amount of shit you still had to do. Why does getting into college have to be so hard? you thought, flipping through yet another SAT prep book. Your eyes weren’t even absorbing any of the words and your head was starting to hurt. I can’t believe I’m subjecting myself to this on a Saturday. Why can’t I just watch cartoons?

Your thoughts were interrupted by a text from Connor. You gave a tired smile before opening it to see he wanted you to meet him at the park. Gratefully accepting a break from killing your brain, you replied that you would be there in a few. Grabbing your keys and other necessities, you headed out the door.

When you got there you saw Connor spread out on the grass in his normal spot, looking at the clouds. You laid down next to him and you both sat quietly for a good while, just enjoying each others company and the nice autumn day. The leaves were starting to change color and the breeze was getting colder, but the change was that much heavier this year because of its finality.

Soon the year would be over, and then it was only a few months until the rest of your life. College, job, and whatever else the world had in store for you. It seemed that everything was riding on ending your high school career on a high note, and after years of monotone repetition, you were unsure if that was even possible.

You were dragged out of your thoughts by a hand in yours. Turning to look at Connor, you see that he was already studying you. You squeezed his hand and he squeezed back before refocusing on the clouds rolling by. A few more minutes of silence stretched between you two, with your hands still intertwined, before he raised his other hand to point out a cloud shape.

“That one looks like Mr. Montgomery.” He gestured towards what looked more like a hippo, making you laugh lightly. That teacher did usually act like one while trampling through the halls.

“More like Mr. Johnson,” you retorted thinking of the biology teacher who made it a habit to just sit at his desk and play videos as a way of teaching, reminding you of the lazy mammals. You could tell Connor was contemplating your observation before making a noise of agreement and then moving on to the next cloud. This continued for a while, until the sky was empty.

Connor sat up and looked down at you before squeezing your hand and getting up. You followed him over to a park bench in the shade where you sat and leaned against his chest, soon getting lost in thought again.

You felt him nudge you softly and looked up at him. His brow was furrowed and you could tell that he wanted you to say what was on your mind. You didn’t want to talk about it though, Connor was getting better and you would not have your negativity bring him down.

“It’s nothing,” you lied, with the attempt of a smile on your face. He just gave you a look that screamed If it’s nothing then I’m Jared Kleinman. You roll your eyes with a sigh before looking at your shoes.

You can feel Connor roll his eyes before grabbing your hand in his and rubbing his thumb on the back of it, something that’s become a thing between you two when either of you need to show support. Your lips perk at the soothing feeling of his motions, and you let out another sigh before turning to look at him.

You see the patience in his eyes, and turn to look back at the park before speaking.

“Everything feels like it’s ending.” You can feel him slightly tense up at your bluntness, but his hand is still there, keeping you weighted. “Senior year is already a month over, and that leaves so little time before the rest of the world crashes in. Yeah, we’ve all been wading into the world of adulthood with jobs and stuff, but that’s nothing compared to what’s out there. And then there’s college to think about and…” you trail off, getting lost in your thoughts again.

Connor squeezes your hand and you take a deep breath before continuing. “Nothing is permanent, but I really wish we could just stay here, trapped in a perfect moment forever. Everything seems to be going too fast, and I’m not ready for it. I don’t think I ever will be.”

You glance at Connor, kind of expecting him to go on his own talk about how the future is a daunting thing, but he sits in silence for a few minutes. You look back at the park and people watch, until he finally speaks.

“I understand why you feel that way. I kind of think everyone does senior year. But…” he stops, trying to get his thoughts together, “just because the future is uncertain and there’s all this stuff that feels like it could drown you, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try to swim. If you need help, there are life preservers and lifeguards and fucking floaties for god’s sake.”

He trails off, and you can tell that he’s trying hard to make sure that he’s delicate with his response while also saying what needs to be said. “I know that it seems like things might not work out, but that’s just the fear of the unknown creeping into your mind. And the whole point of having friends and stuff is so that you aren’t facing it alone,” he gives your hand another squeeze, “and I promise that I’ll be there for you, just as you’ve been there for me during the past few months.”

You look at him before leaning in and giving him a kiss, which he returns in earnest. You know that it’s still hard for him to fully verbalize how he’s feeling, but his words put your mind at ease, at least for now. And if what he said was true, which you really believed it was, he would be there to remind you when these thoughts ultimately returned.

After you broke away, he kissed your temple, and you sat there for a few more minutes in silence. Then Connor pulled you up and you began to walk one of the park’s many paths, kind of just wandering. Your hands were intertwined and every once in awhile he would bring your hand up to his mouth and give it a quick peck, drawing a smile to your face.

As you continued your walk, you became more and more relaxed. When you came upon a patch of flowers, you stopped to admire them. Following that old saying, you smelled them and were about to continue on your walk when Connor picked one and put it in your hair. Your cheeks warmed and Connor smiled at the sight.

The next thing you know, he dropped your hand before going back to picking flowers, this time trying to wrap the stems into a sort of circle. You stand and watch him for a good ten minutes, just admiring the way he’s putting such effort into whatever he was doing.

Finally he was finished and he turned to you before placing it on your head. You look up as it slightly falls over your eyes and move to adjust it, but Connor does it instead, incredibly gently so that it stays together.

“How do I look?” you ask, striking a silly pose. You hear a camera shutter and see Connor’s phone pointed towards you. He shows you the photo and you admit that you look good in your custom made flower crown. You lean in and kiss his cheek and you hear the shutter again. You roll your eyes, but smile at his antics. Seeing the photo of you kissing him and his big smile just makes you happier than you could describe.

Then you’re walking along the path, hands linked once again. You feel like the weight on your shoulders is just a little bit lighter, and give Connor’s hand a squeeze. He looks at you and you just smile at each other, happy that you’re together.

When you come around the next bend, you bump into Evan and you greet him, but you can tell he’s a little preoccupied by something. Then you see him staring at your head. “Admiring Connor’s handiwork, are you? I’m sure if you asked nicely he’d make one for you too, Hansen,” you tease him slightly.

You see his cheeks turn slightly red before he stutters out, “Where did you find the flowers?”

“Somewhere off the path back there,” Connor answered, gesturing behind you. You could see Evan try to peer around you to see if he could see the flower bed, but he turned his attention back to Connor when he couldn’t see it.

“Y-you shouldn’t just go and p-pick flowers, it can damage the plant,” Evan said, sounding almost stern. You share a look with Connor before carefully pulling one of the flowers out of your flower crown and handing it to Evan with a small smile.

“Flowers are to be admired Evan, but we promise not to disturb the nature of the park in the future, okay?”

He takes the flower from you, returning your light smile, and you pat his shoulder before pulling on Connor’s hand and continuing your walk. Throwing a quick, “See you later Evan,” over your shoulder.

Your walk lasts another hour or so, with a little bit of random conversation interspersed throughout. You pass by Evan again, and see him tending to some of the plants, pulling weeds and such. You give him a small wave and he waves back before going back to looking after the nature of the park. You know that he’ll make a good park ranger or botanist if he chose to become one.

Soon enough you and Connor had looped back around to the parking lot and you were saying your goodbyes. And as you drove home, now thinking about the things you still had to get done once more, you felt more calm.

Connor had become your rock over the course of your relationship, and you his. The future still wasn’t spelled out in black and white, and you sure as hell weren’t prepared for everything, but that wasn’t going to stop it from coming, or stop you from facing it with your handsome support system at your side.

[happyhappyhappyplace]

All the hate in the Ereri and riren fandom is really getting me down :( Could u help remind me how awesome the ship is, because a lot of people think that riren makes the characters ooc. My whole life has been a lie... Not really lol, just need some reasurrence that riren can be shipped for good reason. riren/ereri it doesn’t matter! Whenever people want to reduce a ship down to where the peen goes, I’m a little concerned because 1) there is more to sex than penetration and 2) there is more to a relationship than sex! So whenever people fight over ririviviviivivireererereri nonsense, I make up my own positive headcanons: Eren loves ice cream, but Levi is lactose intolerant so he gets sherbet. Eren likes the ostrich on the carousel, Levi likes the tiger, but both are fond of the wonky eyed horse. Levi doesn’t like it when Eren buys oversized sweaters because Levi likes to borrow Eren’s sweaters so that just means it’s three times too big for him. Ah, who are we kidding, he likes those too. Levi is remarkably good at winning goldfish at the ring toss. Eren’s aquarium is overcrowded. Both claim to like creepy horror flicks, but somehow have never made it an entire movie without turning it off. But only to makeout, not because they were scared or anything. Eren is banned from most putt-putt golf courses, especially the one with the windmill. In protest, Levi stole three boxes of golf pencils. At the beach, Levi sunburns easily. Eren writes, “I love you!” on his back in sunscreen. Eren tells the waitress it is Levi’s birthday so they get free dessert. Levi hides in Eren’s armpit when they sing him happy birthday. Levi is really good at “crack the whip” in roller and ice rinks. Eren crashes into the snowbank. Levi’s Valentine’s Day cards to Eren have stenciled letters on the front. Eren’s explode in glitter. Eren spends Valentine’s Day cleaning up the glitter. Because of his insomnia, Levi takes catnaps during the day. Eren rigs up a hammock in the backyard and often finds Levi there, the watering can on the ground and his large gardening hat still on. Now which one of those mini headcanons is ereri and which one is riren? I can’t really tell. Oh, I have a good one: Eren thinks Levi’s nose is adorable, and sometimes when Levi is talking to him, Eren will space out and then slowly raise his finger up and press the tip of Levi’s nose and say “Boop!” (He does the same thing to his mother’s cat.) Sunday morning is banana pancakes morning. Whenever they’re in the car, the rule “driver chooses the music, shotgun keeps their mouth shut” is the first thing that goes out the window. They settle it with rock paper scissors instead. Levi always winds up eating the pickles out of Eren’s cheeseburgers and the olives out of his pizza slices. Levi likes the regular goldfish and Eren likes the flavor blasted, but they fight over the pretzel all the time. They end up sharing it on the couch with a movie on. Eren eats all the food in the house and won’t buy more until Levi throws money at his head and makes him leave. He laughs all the way down the street, but Levi waits until he’s around the corner before laughing. Eren is pretty good at video games, so when he’s gotten a good streak, the only way to break him out of it is for Levi to join the game and kick his ass. This is only used in dire situations as Levi doesn’t like to mess with Eren’s ego too much. Levi always buys silly string and sprays it on Eren on their birthdays. Even though it’s a pain in the ass to clean up, it’s worth his reaction. When they go on an airplane, Eren likes the window seat and Levi secretly prefers the middle because he can lean on Eren and he’s small enough not to get squashed. Eren always gives Levi the little snacks claiming that he doesn’t want them, but when Levi puts one in his mouth Eren kisses him to get it back. Levi pretends to be annoyed, but he always goes along with it. Levi normally doesn’t like PDA but has been known to make out with Eren shamelessly if someone makes a homophobic comment. Eren and Levi have a little unspoken competition to see who can carry the other more places. Eren talks in his sleep and Levi pretends to be annoyed about it, but he actually finds it very cute. Levi really likes it when Eren wears bright pastel colors. Flower crowns are a plus too. Both Eren and Levi (though Eren more so) get jealous pretty easily and if someone flirts with Eren, Levi tends to be very blunt and specifically points out they are together. Whereas Eren gets really touch-feely, such as throwing an arm around Levi’s shoulders, waist or grabbing his hand. Even, going as far as kissing him- on the cheek or mouth. Eren has a habit of chewing on his pens when he’s thinking. Levi tries to get him to stop, but after a few weeks Eren catches him doing it. He teases him about it for a month. Levi never starts a tickle fight, but he’ll finish one. When they watch a movie together, Eren throws whatever snack they have into the air and Levi has to catch it in his mouth so it doesn’t make a mess. Eren always sits on Levi’s lap, which is a good idea at first, but as Eren gets taller, Levi gets squashed. Eren picks up Levi’s habit of holding cups funny and Levi thinks it’s adorable. Levi got glasses before Eren did, and Eren would steal them off his face and wear them around the house until his vision got worse and he realized he could see better wearing them. They went to the eye doctor the next weekend. Eren still does it every once in a while. Eren loves playing with Levi’s hair. Levi is bisexual, so Eren made him a bracelet that alternated black links and the colors of the rainbow because “it’s as gay as you are!” He learned that there are bisexual colors the next day. Levi only takes it off to shower. Eren likes drawing butterflies on Levi’s binders. On laundry day, Eren and Levi have a sock fight to sort the socks. Levi almost always wins. They switch iPods for a day every week. When one of them has a bad day, they blast Taylor Swift and jam out until they can barely move. If it’s a really bad day they get ice cream first. Whenever they go to a restaurant, no matter how fancy, they always get into a game of footsie that escalates into a full on foot war. Eren tends to win these, but most games remain unfinished. Sometimes when Levi is reading a book Eren likes, Eren will read over his shoulder and poke him in the side if he closes it. Eren mouths words of songs to Levi that he thinks represents their relationship. Eren and Levi wear matching shoes every once in a while. Hanji is the only one who’s ever noticed. When Levi stays up late working, he uses Eren’s stomach as a pillow. Eren loves apple juice and leaves empty bottles everywhere around the house. Levi doesn’t mind that much because he thinks watching Eren drink it is so cute. Levi is left handed and always wears his watch on his right. Eren wears it on his right hand as well, but he is right handed. Eren has ADHD and has to take medication for it. Levi gives him extra hugs when he’s on the come down. Eren tends to get out of control angry but Levi’s always the one to calm him down. Levi has a tendency to fall asleep in his desk chair working, but Eren’s learned to see when Levi’s about to fall asleep and lifts Levi into bed. Levi always complains about the mess Eren makes when he’s doing art, but secretly Levi enjoys the gentle curves of concentration between Eren’s eyebrows and the way he sticks his tongue out when he’s focusing on little details. Eren and Levi have a neighbour who complains constantly about their noise levels, so just to annoy them, Eren buys a dog whistle and blows it every once in a while during the night and complains to the neighbour upstairs that their dog keeps them awake. Levi says Eren shouldn’t do it, but he really finds it funny when the neighbour was completely baffled about their dog. Eren has a tendency to leave paint streaks on his cheeks, and Levi never says anything about it. Levi isn’t a really big fan of dogs due to hair, but when he comes back to Eren cuddling a puppy, he decides he can live with it. Eren snores, and Levi finds it cute until he realises he really can’t sleep with Eren’s snoring. Levi ends up kicking Eren during the night to make him shut up.

Many many many different posts

[cto10121]

The Riddle of Man

Fandom: Harry Potter Genre: Poetry Sites: ao3, ff.net Ships: Tom/OC, Tom/Bellatrix, Harry/Ginny Summary: An orphaned boy rises to become the most powerful and feared wizard of his age. But when he hears a prophecy about a boy destined to defeat him, his own deadly action spells his undoing. Or should we say, his inaction? The true story of the man who became Lord Voldemort. AU. OOC for good reason. 

A/N: This is the impostume of reading too much Shakespeare, which outward breaks and knows not why potential readership dies. But for those who don’t mind this weird marriage of poetry and fanfic, here it is. For anyone unused to verse, try reading aloud, softly, to yourself. It will make better sense that way.

The Riddle of Man

Though oft the sweet-sung tale of late renown Among our common laud, a troubled mind Did lead me once to quiet witness sound, Whose tale obscure too late did wisdom find, Ere he was laid on fruitless ground to rest: So this, in’s memory, I’ll tell to test. 

There lived a boy of raven hue, whose eyes All eyes did draw to praise, like midnight sheer On iv’ry marble smooth, that, realized, Did show to all his beauty’s moonlight clear. And groped to him describe in just compare, As dark Adonis of renownèd fair.   

His charms did charm, his pleasing wit bewitched, Enchanting craft which swiftly won the grace Of wondered wizard and of swooning witch, Which easy skill had shown the telling trace Of ancient Slytherin, his mother’s line, That all gave due to noble blood’s divine. 

His talent known, at school he rose to fame, For in all of curse and jinx and hex excelled, And there grew known his stranger’s Muggle name, Though in his vein coursed blood of Peverell. And soon him followed in a loving throng A motley court that sued for favor longed. 

A love had he, one Coralina Smith, Niece to old Hepzibah, Hufflepuff’s heir. Though Slytherin-sorted, of cunning pith, Her heart was golden gentleness’ fair. Her grace he wooed, courted, and present won, And with her went after schooling done. 

But lo, it cannot be that matchless form Can spotless match within; for violent birth Of need-imbibed desire, like the worm, Does seethe and chafe to prove its scanted worth In ancient world of magic’s right and might, Where strong seize all, and weakling fall from sight. 

So young Tom Riddle (hight) like fury strove At Borgin’s worked till morning’s shadow eye, His lover like a wife, balm to his behove, His confidante in every act and lie. This love like coin resembled, on each side, Where mirror twins of blackest fair resides.

“Master Burke for your advancement speaks,” Said she in whispered confidence of bed, “A vacancy, which falls on thee to seek! Lest some popinjay take it in thy stead; For even lowly Ministry hire May rise to fill his dark desire.” 

So up, our Tom preferred, like blooming rose, Or special magnet which success draws near, Or moon the ocean’s tide attracts it close, Did climb to ranks of rank ambition’s dear, Which seeks the earthly fruit of polis crown That grants immortal heights from humble ground. 

A politic career had made him well, And soon a loyal twelve, who called him lord, Of talent profit and in leisure dwell, With selfsame hungry want for power’s hoard. And in this pledge did swear to serve ‘a true At his command by wand of phoenix yew. 

What then, in spring success, could augur bring? His lover now his wife, his lordship’s queen; The Phoenix order fled on frighted wing, The Ministry at heel, his power seen; Why, then, this leaden flash, this dew of cold, That harrows up the bone to press him old? 

“A prophecy, my lord.” Thus plague begun. His man Severus, bone-white, spoke in few: “Your death’s proclaimed by newborn summer son, Whom you must end, or risk your state undo. This Sibyl Trelawney with rasping speech Spoke fearful fortune; hear it, I beseech. 

“The sons of these two enemies, both alike In dignity and danger they present: Fair Longbottom, and Potter in his spite, Which your success they bitter most resent: As families of ancient line and clout, Your hard-won right they scorn, your blood they doubt. 

“O, good my lord, do not this augur heed, The vague pronouncement of uncertain word, To mark each penny-filching doctor’s greed And loose your judgment to reason most absurd. For augurs are like rakehell oaths, all bawds, And this Trelawney shy of certain fraud. 

“O, yet while you’ve your strength, take care defend The triumph of your state through power’s just! For sudden acts precipitate their end, Like lover’s frenzy dead in passion’s dust. What need, therefore, to spur from glory’s sun, And plan a fell attack on Lily’s son? 

“Darling Lily’s son, and Longbottom’s too, Are nothing to your lordship’s grace compared; Say they’ll grow to do you wrong, say that’s true: ‘Tis common known that common ends by rare. Your patience stay; but if you needs must act, On Longbottom fall your preventive tact. 

“Your mercy, lord, commends your mercy’s grace, In granting me your humble servant’s plea, To spare that love that love itself did lace With beauty’s rose and fortune’s starry lea. Then in your wisest censure judge Whether greater lord would lesser plea begrudge.” 

“I do conceive,” (this in reply), “thy plight, Severus; so I here confess me free From fond gain-giving or too-credent fright In piercing shallow mists of prophecy. For when I give consent to fear invest Pronounce me bankrupt in both wit and rest.” 

And yet it’s often seen that jealousy, When faced with Fortune’s accidents, Runs sweaty mind with sharp conspiracy, And nurtures compost seeds of false intent. So ‘twas the seeress proved her risky lie, When both that month his motion’s plans defied. 

To Dumbledore the fam’lies swore an oath, And joined his Phoenix order to prevent The fearful promise of his office troth: By courting the pureblood constituent, Prestige and power gain, in nation rule, And nevermore play fortune’s motley fool. 

But dark and queer, the dreams that haunt the life, Like swinging pendulum of nightmare trance! So deep his brood it did alarm his wife, Who stayed the loose-held reigns of augured chance To tell him this: “This seeress is but light; Stay, therefore, do not order judgment’s flight. 

“’Tis always been the truc of prophecy, Itself to realize its self’s belief With vague announcement garbed as certainty, Of which, for proof, their own self proof is chief. Thus builds a hollow case in iron proof, Like lawyer’s edifice’s absent roof. 

“To do this deed, your credit would undo, Which yet some eye of public favor holds, For trophies, trinkets, offices that honor you Their luster lost, their waste is present sold. Advancement by this act so would fly Your fortune forfeit, that hour’s honor dies. 

“I say this not to stay, oh, understand, Thy mounting name; but thou must yet fear With too-small pause to dye thy spotless hand, And easy fall in murder’s blackened smear. Oh, do not thee so: For all greatness must The jealous mass attract like scented lust. 

“This Sibyl is a punk, a drab, a pass, Who never spoke in life a word of truth: Cassandra’s blood, though not her See she has, And so she’s worked as pandlar-bawd since youth. To credit her a minute past her rate, Would soon reduce ye to a beggar’s state.”

“This advice of caution’s well” (so spoke he) “And therefore caution will I best employ: To crush the bud before it flowers me With pestilence, else spell my end in joy. For sickness left untendered deathly rage To leave one simple mark upon a page.” 

“Wilt thou aid me, Cora? Dost thou approve?” They clinging fast, a little world in room, And, silent, understood the force which moves The trembling thread through steady weaving loom, And weave the silky purse with icy will Which glory’s expectation helps keep still.

II.

The night of Hallows’ Eve drew velvet black. The moon, forewarned, had cloaked herself from see; In laden streets a masquerade was wracked Like glimm’ring jewels in solemn ebony.   But lo, how starless was this hallowed night, As if these loyal guards had quit in fright! 

And if some common portents there were seen, As owl’s daylight pass or talking horse; The dire thunderclap, the lone wolf’s keen, A ghost relating horror in blank verse, None bore the fruit of witness or of deed; But horror more than these did proceed. 

And, ghosting, cloaked through village festive’s streets, The riddle walked with slow, ungainly tread. A flask through gripless fingers, flavored sweet, Empty rang the streets as slipping courage fled. Each step proclaimed: Let fall life, usher death, For only fools dare barter precious breath. 

A child, no more, a life to say but one, Untested thought that grows in’s promise doubt. Then kind enough t’eclipse this flaming son, Lest fiery growth in danger scorch him out. What lacks he, then, but strength of chosen will, To banish evil life with goodly kill? 

Fair or dark, dark and fair, or darkly fair, To ravel future fall from stars divine; Which peril’s boy discern, which wizard’s heir Would one day claim, “This life were mine”? And then unbidden came the knowing spark – Fair and dark had fought; so won the dark. 

The hallowed Hollow in evening’s Hallow, Rose rosy vision of a mountain mist. Whiskey quickened blood and breathing shallow, The web of fogging doubt that must desist. Till in his memory’s abstract lived this creed: To never stay till ending of this deed. 

So banish doubt, sink feeling to the bone; And flaming mind abate with cooling patience. Make lily-livered heart to practice stone, Leave mother mercy off with temperance. And should in this endeavor triumph can, You’d prove yourself a more than mortal man. 

Within was dark without a sound. A chance Of pause him stayed: Was this a trap, a trick? Had the Potters warning of his advance? A furious stream of light replied, a lick Of smarting curse – the jealous father stood, Armed and ready to defend his brood. 

No discourse, all instinct, marked the first exchange, And silent house her secret soon disclosed. They fought as teething beasts, deranged, Where one opponent fell, the other rose. Till both in struggle had about the neck; A moment’s beat before the fatal wreck. 

The flash of jade this shattered mirror caught, The slash that chasm tore the living place – What eye would horror glimpse, received unsought, The cleanly break’s irrevocable case? The body fell, and so fell too marred youth, That bit of soul that so betrayed its truth. 

In silence rang, though never heard, the moan Whose mournful treble for her husband’s death Would have stole the general ear and sown In ev’ry sleeping conscience anguished breadth, And make the stones themselves on murder cry Which joined his racing blood where conscience lies. 

The lick of flame that vanished on the stair At his trespass and sequent wizard’s duel Now flashed in desp’rate quickness ‘round the fair It gilded, like porcelain of queenly rule, Now fleshly pale at horror’s hasty side Her tender hidden from the wicked hide. 

“Desist, depart,” she cried. “No more, I pray – Take me instead; I do throw my life of care, And your hand upon my head fear not stay. But not my boy, no, not my son, him spare, And I will do you any service, now, So changing mercy with a servant’s vow.” 

“I have no quarrel nor no use for thee,” Quoth he. “Stand aside. Mercy will I give If thou my business let unhindered free, ‘Less like thy husband thou wilt scorn to live. So quit thy begging – no, I cannot hear – Leave hanging from my sleeve, come not so near.” 

“Kind master, good lord,” she sobbed. “Don’t refuse; You cannot be so kindless, no, you must, Nor can you my frankness so abuse And kill for naught the simplest sense of just. Have pity, then, upon my state, have soul, Which you know I know you have, that yet is whole. 

“Or better still, take him alive; how great Your triumph then, to turn a dreaded foe To friend, to son, to chief of highest state; How can he turn, raised to love you so? For all the best do know for war to end You must a present foe turn future friend. 

“Oh, raise him, then, be father and mother To him, and use me as pleases your will: As your servant, woman, both, or other, At table, bed, or secretary’s quill, At hand to do whatever needs be done, So long as he may live your honored son.” 

“What mother mothered, what father fathered! When I was this boy’s age, a stranger filled My cup of need along with several others Orphaned by indifferent fortune, whose will Decreed the curse of life of endless want!” This spoke with maddened eye and favor gaunt. 

“Be grateful, then, thy son will never know The orphan plight of raising tear-flesh shame, That must surrender constant proof, or grow In banished self the cancer of his name. Such little lives in fettered darkness lead, That souls that leave are blinkered by their need. 

“Forbear! Thou silly wench, think’st thou me kind? This kindness lost, if ever had, is bar To acts of heightened pitch which will find A greater glory reaching farther star. Then come what fate and sorrow follow: Beyond them lies the hope of better morrow.” 

So shoved she aside, but no sooner done Than she with stinging hex attempted wide, Which, blocked, ended what had scarce begun: Avada Kedavra answered her pride. And struck her to the core of living life The light extinct with cut of fiery knife. 

And this exchange the child witnessed all, Unknowing eyes that nursed the wounded gash And humor mild at his mother’s fall, Consumed by eerie glow of em’rald lash, Which stole his loyal mother from his right Into the plunge of everlasting night.

The murderer, the infant in its crib, For a moment’s beat formed a painted scene, As if the sortilege of fate had dimmed And froze the famous pair in Avada-green. A frescoed Tom and Hal in rival’s sort: The Boy-Who-Lived with so-called Voldemort.

But as we know from ancient faded writ, That time-worn tales do lose their little truth, Traditions turning legend, legend myth, Till age gives faded fancy fancy’s youth, So too this tyrant-beast, so hight, did stay Like statue frozen: Nothing neither way. 

Nothing! Yes, nothing. Wracked in wonder, I Made question, disbelieved this calm report. But him I sounded, with a saddened eye, Knew I knew him true on Voldemort. He stayed his fell, and hidden world did see This Voldemort turn present Voldevie. 

Unseeing stared at the unheeding boy; The moments rolled and lengthened to a crawl. The child, smiling, proffered him his toy,  A furry griffin wrapped in crimson shawl. As if in friendly peace and gesture just, To stranger, if his liking tended thus. 

Decline your wand of yew; it’s over now. Do not with vainest show a falsehood keep. In war a soldier fights to hold his vow, But ever after never finds his sleep. For who would, kindless, innocence slaughter In guise of potential son or daughter? 

He thought on Cora, on himself, his state, The sibyl’s oracle, Snape’s petition. But as he anguished, there heard Apparate The Phoenix, which surrounded the partition. Which forced him to employ his plan’s escape, With friends to hide, join Cora, send for Snape. 

Round, like a circle in a spiraled wheel, The space constricted in an eyelash wink, Through coaxing whirl its spinning thread unreels His liquid essence pooling in a sink, Until the hearth of Riddle House appeared At Cora’s feet, demanding him her fear. 

“I heard rumors from the Hollow,” she said, Pale as ash. “Thou quakest with fear, thy favor’s wild. What happened? Are thou hurt, are they dead? The Phoenix is called; didst thou kill the child?” “No,” he groaned. “No, no. Cora, I am through. I’ve murdered sleep, and sleeping killed I you.” 

“What speech is this? My lord, you shake. Do bend Your discourse into some frame; what occurred? The night’s bleak horrors could no spell forfend; The elves did tremble at each trifle heard. Is the mission undone? Yet tell me so, So flee this place, to further safety go.” 

“Ay, ay, to flee,” he breathed. “We must, ‘tis true. But let us not, sweet wife, ourselves deceive. Forbear all counsel. Here’s my wand of yew: Perform Priori, then break it. Conceive, And let us haste, and there embrace our doom: A burdened life, which must in us assume.” 

Gone was the triumph that had come before, Gone were the fruits of warlike state enjoyed, Gone were safety, peace, the sanctum’s core, The undefiled piece of man and boy. Hope forsaken, vows forsworn, lives undone, They to shadows turned from midnight sun. 

III.

Alone, forsook, in tower languishing, Beneath a sky that held no hint of peace. What little hope that keeps from perishing In’s shrunken breast the fine of shortened lease, Did pace in fev’rish-ill round restless cage, While cold-eyed stars played witness to his rage. 

His orders foiled, his men in blind retreat; His Cora gone, and Severus long since fled; The Hogwarts siege a failure uncomplete, And on each side the living reckoned dead. Now warlike Harry, in his eager pride Flies to Riddle House with heated stride. 

Or so spake rumor; he no longer knew The diff’rence ‘tween a moonlit night and noon, Between autumnal’s chill and springtime dew, Between a loyal man and sycophant’s croon, But dealt each toy with jealous sputt’ring rant, Spurned good and ill alike in scornful cant. 

“What, Yaxley! Malfoy! Rosier! Are all fled? A pox ‘a fops and gulls that cannot stand! Fie, Bella, dost thou hear? Thy husband’s dead, And would his fellows proved so true a man! Go to and hang, ye lily-livered knaves! Is this to pay the graciousness I gave? 

“What, Nott defaulted too? Then traitors, hence! O shamed deceit, these yellow whoreson curs, That feel sans feeling, lose their common sense!” He beat his chest; his lover too did hers, And brought his person level to her eyes, Who comfort gave to ease his great despise.

“Have cheer, my good lord, all is not lost yet; The beasts are fresh, the battle scarce begun; But give me leave to seek out Marsenet – Prithee, lord, give me leave to seek our son, Whom honor pricks in mortal vengeful plan, Seeking young Potter’s death at thy command.” 

“Bella, do not stir from hence! Thee I told A thousand times remain, and so thou wilt; Let Marse his importunity strike bold; Fiori has too much his mother’s milk. For loving Cora’s favor lives in him, And tortures me with madness as its whim.” 

“Proud I am,” said she, fierce, “of Mars’ might, For son so mewed I’d scorn to breathe the name. My honor’s better served to join the fight, And change each Phoenix blow with fatal same. Then let my duty better show in this, Fair warrior die than live in coward’s bliss.” 

“Oh, coward’s bliss,” he sighed. “Would it were mine, And inner calm restore the balm of sleep! Revive the luscious spring of barren time, That left me drowned in crimson ageless deep, Until our self like factious jealous state Undoes itself in chaos rebel’s fate.” 

“Do not so speak,” she hissed. “Oh, fie, oh, fie! Are you a man? Is this proper bearing? Oh, once you could the wrathful gods defy, And now like timid beast thy hairs rise staring! Oh, good my lord, renounce this woman’s chatter; Thy power yet is more than mortal matter.” 

“Leave me, Bel. By Salazar, forbear! Go, then, with Marsenet, take up the cause, And seek Fiori’s stay. Content thee, fair: My years, a tangled scarf of torn-up gauze, Is skinlike stretched to ephemeral taut And seeks a knitted rest from weary lot.” 

But desperate thought, as Bella left, crept in, And colored gaping absence’ memory With too-fine fears that, heartened, slither in, The tempest clouding up his wat’ry see, Till bare and stony tower mirror turned To mock his face, his folly dearly earned. 

For oh, how vile the flesh in loathing steeps, Like poison-vat that thinking gives a cure! Dry lesions in his bony hands, which creeped And tried to tear proud body’s insecure! His beauty’s gone, a shadow coarse’d by years, And manly form weathered by kindly tears. 

Without the distracted lord’s chamber door, In base of winding stair a foot did rest. Gazing up the helix (oh, true Gryffindor!) Was Harry Potter, crown of Hogwarts’ best, Whose Godric’s sword did grip with master right, In churning lust for coming master fight. 

Blood did gild that form unmatched in breadth, That broad poitrine of sleek and wiry strength, Glistening with the salt of valiant breath, That amorous wet each sinew of his length. The dark-fair rose of youth, this golden boy; A wizard prince, Dumbledore’s pride and joy.

“Fiori,” he said, low, “You’re sure he’s there?” “Ay, sweet Harry,” the latter, grim, replied,  “With his own fears made drunk and mad with care, A beast who wallows in the filth he lies; To put him down would be a mercy’s act, And you yourself the sealer of that pact.” 

“Join hands with me, Fiori,” (so said he) “And pardon it, with all thy heart, that fell That ended thy brother’s life. Let, for thee, This cancel crime, foul words between us quell. And let grow fruit of golden amity Thy service honor banished enmity.” 

“Merlin be with thee!” Clasping him, ‘a cried, “Marse’s death fall not on thee. O thou great, O thou most good! An thou wert now to die, What feeling loss would pang the tott’ring state!” “Do not yet speak of death,” said Harry, bleak. “I hate the word, and do defy its weak. 

“Tell Ron of Fenrir, of poor Hagrid’s plight; Break gently news of Fred and George’s fall; Hunt Dolohov, for Remus’ death requite; Send brave Hermione to McGonagall. Bid them join the rest, not to stay for me; Riddle I must face alone, or ne’er be. 

“And one last thing –” He swallowed thickly here. “If by any chance thou see’st Ginny –” But love, which speaks through storm and silenced fear, Through god-ruled fate and mortal tyranny, Did tie his ready tongue with struggling pause: Love too great for words makes speechless cause. 

His friend regardless understood. “Ay, I shall. Never thee fear.” He gazed at him, And laden chest exhumed a pregnant sigh, As if regretting some old childhood whim. And sans another word the two did part, In silent gesture speaking heavy heart. 

The long and slow ascent, the torches’ shade, That led with clammy step to Riddle Tow’r, Took warlike Harry to each passing grade, His noble heart grow fierce with trembling pow’r. For dark his heated purpose, ice his breath, To pay the lord at last his parents’ death. 

He met the door; Alohomora made It yield. The dreaded sight appeared, appalled, The shrunken shadow’s shadow, merest shade. That stood near window with a darkened pall, And did not turn to greet him at the door; So went ignored the noble Gryffindor. 

Neither did silence break with needless speech, Nor flourished wand or blood-caked sword withdrew, Nor cleaved the other’s ear with verbal breach, Or faults with ringing condemnation spewed, Nor even gave with name avenger’s cry, As, “You killed my father. Prepare to die.” 

Instead he turned, and, startled, met his twin, As if in glass or master painter caught, No change without reflecting change within – Tom Riddle had appeared, unwilled, unsought! How could this be? But no, his eye had erred: His mind had hasty jumped to dream preferred. 

No, Harry was himself, his father’s spit, In form and bearing a dark and well-made youth; But in the fire of his almond pit, The emerald Lily lived to blaze her truth: And once again gazed in her killer’s eye, And once again his person she defied. 

“Is’t you at last?” he murmured low. “My foe, Or savior – I’ve long forgot the which. Have you then come to pitch my overthrow, My friends supplant, undo, restrain, bewitch? Or like a sheep in wolfish garb dost come To reckon up my debt to force a sum?” 

“Thy reckoner’s here,” said Harry coldly. “Stand, if you be man, and we our strength shall try. My parents’ loss my glory’s gain shall be, And prove those ancient words which prophesied The fate which knits us in her threaded gyves: ‘Neither can live while the other survives.’” 

“Thou wretched boy!” Rounding in a flashing break. “I’ll see thee ere I go with thy parents sent! Life’s a candle flame that, with slightest quake, The smallest breath may careless usher rent; So stint, thou seed. Take heed to tender light That youthful wick which soon is swallowed night.” 

“Thou thing! Thou paper-king of rags and patch, Thou serpent-prince of foul and ancient rot! The germ of evil and of fell dispatch, That knits disasters in its wedded knot! And now, thou shadow’s shadow, here must end The canker ill of ill’s allowed propend!” 

And not a word thereafter spoken, no, Nor slightest breath of air exchanged; When words do fail, the greater is the show, That follows fast with furious martial range; And so they to’t, wand to wand, man to man, To guard till final breath their person’s stand. 

The grim-eyed chamber lit with charging spell, Some dying splattered on unyielding stone, Exploding firecrackers that did quell On dusty ground extinct by ashy loam. Or else that mortal lash of hex that missed And brushed their robèd arms like streaking kiss. 

Which side more desp’rate and which more maddened, To deal the final blow? Their worth Were equal on both, and Fortune, saddened, Knew well the justice of their troubled birth. And quit her post, leaving weaving wheel, For mortals to decide their own fate’s seal. 

And oh, who did not hear the scream of Bellatrix, But heated blood did freeze in fearful vein? When she her Marse’s death found out the trick That stole his life and she her honor stained, Then sobbing tore through house with vengeful aim; Till stayed by Molly Weasley, grieving same. 

“Thou scorpion, thou scullion poison-well, Thou dram – no, don’t thee dare not walk away! My darling twins thy stainèd hand had felled And now thy debt is mine to make thee pay. Oh, I’ll assure my strike won’t be in vain, For thou wilt harm my children ne’er again.”

“Traitors! Murd’rous knaves and thieves! The fount of foulest, villainous evil! Oh sweet my brave, my darling son!” So grieved, Like tempest gales the heart’s upheaval, It stopped her speech; and blindly struck her wild, In vengeance ‘gainst the world for darling child. 

A clash of opposites, of vicious reach, Twin whirlwind furies of a crimson pitch. Each mother’s grief a circle feeding each, Which called one weasel whore, the other bitch; And fought till Molly caught her on the ground; Her wand like knife to neck did put her down. 

Did he feel, I wonder, his lieutenant,   Before her mortal strings of life were caught? Hope her house had quit, and left as tenant The want that craves its end in naught. And silent begs the mercy-giver act To kill the sullied flesh of shameful fact. 

As Bella went, her lover was disarmed, And slipping, with arm outstretched he fell; Quick Harry poised to execute that harm That soon would send him kicking heel to hell. And this advantage quickly moved to seize: Himself still armed, his rival on his knees. 

But as in life beyond a paper fame, Oft the things we mean to do miscarry Or never realized, or change in aim, Purpose, circumstance, or name. So Harry, Like a painted character dumbly stood And let his doubting “should” o’erwhelm his “would.” 

And in that space where silent counsel streams, Entire worlds of words conveyed through gaze, The time between did pass like sluggish dream   Like years and not some seconds passed in haze.   So youth and age, dark and dark, fame and fame, Like statues stared, dumb in unfinished game.   

The winds without had calmed, as eye of storm, Before a thunderclap the silence rent; The air did lose its biting frost and warmed, Which all of mercy’s hope in second spent. So to it went again the foes; but then Wands met in Priori Incantatem. 

A golden thread the several streams enjoined, The honeyed warmth that, streaming, intercourse; A rushing surge of pow’r in chaffing loins That meet with fervor in deep-throated force. Two wills in one, and one in that one will, In battle fought; but impasse kept them still. 

The spell forced memory; the wands confessed Each wrathful kill, each calculated hurt. Not one did stint in shame, but rather tressed In essence same, though meeting briefly curt. How loath the one to undo its brother! How warm they greeted, like open lover! 

And yet it could not be but their joy was brief: The phoenix of the holly trumped the yew, Though not without the pain of magic’s grief, That made its brother’s spell dissolve like dew. Oh sorrow’s cross, to bear that loving strife, To be the one to end beloved life! 

So Voldemort, then Voldevie, now naught, His riddle solved, but wants its puzzle piece, That in his raging sorrow desperate sought The pardon that would give his trial peace. Now dearly found, and dearer bought by youth, Who now stands heir to all his state and truth. 

The hush that fell, the fury’s storm’s recede, Though not a mite abated, made a pause To give a panting Harry back his need And room to bring the truth of triumphed cause, Before the joyful sight of living friend: The evil scarce begun has present end. 

But oh, what joy, what cheer did start And filled with lusty roar the bleak lacuna: For who did meet him, these loyal hearts, But Ron, Hermione, Neville, Luna? His faithful warriors, and more, and more, Did come to throng him at the door. 

Exhausted, weary, words but breath and air, He made no sound except to say his deed, And thought on nothing but his ended care, That sixteen years of strife did lead. And soon looked forward to a life well fed, With fierce-proud Ginny by his side to wed.  

With ringing bell, the Hogwarts flag was hung And draped across old Riddle senior’s hall. Requiems for the lost and hymns were sung To victory dearly won by brother’s fall. And triumph over wicked wizard dead, Now gone to goblin’s hell below sans head. 

For Tom Marvolo Riddle, his body found, Was tossed and thrown in playful wizard’s game, And for a trophy, as from bear or hound, Off went the severed head of wicked fame, To join his fiendish wife and cobra lover As butcher king in markless tomb uncovered. 

His eldest son, Fiori, now his heir, Was guarded for a time without his room, His treason known, that made him present fair By Harry, who made him a courtly groom. Although his tyrant sire’s blood did make Suspicion’s odorless smoke trail his wake. 

Fior did not last, but fared much better Than oily Malfoy, now past all earthly care, Or kindless Crabbe with brutish Trevor, Both fiendish fire’s meat of Ron the Bear. With Dolohov through, cut by Ginny’s curse, The rest were carted off for fate much worse. 

Then wisdom blanched, his trickling tale he stayed. I, in puzzlement, inquired for his health. “Oh, fie,” he moaned. “I was a fool to say What none should dare for all his land and wealth! But enough. ‘Tis done, and I must perforce Vouchsafe my life in safety’s hidden course.” 

And so I wait, evading looming fate, My mystery hid deep in key-locked breast. This final thought that good with ill equates Confounds me so it’s loath to leave me rest: What laden price for soul to understand The story monsters made from riddled man! 

Finis.