#really obsessed with how genius the writing is. it captures people so well

[ugghouly]

I think the way laios tried to help senshi with his trauma is really masterful writing. He doesn't know how to be delicate with the situation, but he knows his friend is hurting, he knows what he needs to do, he knows what he thinks would put senshi at ease about what happened to him. Marcille and chilcuck freak out as he tried the first soup but the whole time he is thinking in circles about what he believes could be the real answer. He doesn't know how to be gentle or nurturing about it but he puts his whole being into finding the answer for his beloved friend. Such a good way at communicating his immense love and caring personality in combination with his trait of poor social skills. His approach isn't super pleasant to marcille and chilchuck but he goes above and beyond to console senshi where the others just sit there shocked.

[himejoshiangels]

Duke Thomas fic rec list

I've scowered every tag relating to him, combed thru the 'duke centric tag' at least 8 times, this is what ive come back with, at least my personal faves

necessary reminders - duke pov, outsider pov, and some social media following duke as he gets used to his day job as a vigilante. flows really well, has a good balance of sad and happy, and gets dukes character rlly well

that which you cannot bear - THIS FIC WILL BREAK YYOU duke is kidnapped and its only down from there!! this is like, one of the first duke fics I read and it's still labeled as such in my mind. its well based, sooo cohesive plot wise, and stays completely in character w all its characters, especially duke, while exploring such an interesting facet of him > his tendency to self-isolate, insistence on being independent, and his stubbornness. sooo much good angst just incredible stuff while also staying hopeful and grounded. ALSO duke is an intelligent badass throughout the fic which is an important detail 2 me

signal, n. a divine act - same author as the last one, absolutely insane concepts are explored and its just so well written srsly it's like poetry. digs into some of dukes ideologies so well. if u like holy imagery??? kind of but not rlly?? ig you'll love this

this whole series is just so fucking incredible but something about my bodies made of crushed little stars I don't fucking know it messed w my brain chemistry, I've recced it b 4 bcs it made me cry but read the whole series, it's all duke centric and just so good. Saki writes bruce and duke in a way that fizzes u up w emotion and focuses on such unique facets of dukes character/dynamics and sleep well my little sunshine is soo cute and fun and soft >when earth finds the stars - bonus presignal duke and jason fic, balances being incredibly fun with a realistic zoom in on duke before we are robin. he's quippy and witty and always at the edge of his rope

not mutually exclusive - tired of bruce being kinda shoved into the role of dukes capital F father when that's not quite what their dynamic is? Then this is the fic for you!! Just good duke and Bruce interactions overall, it's sad and hilarious with just incredible dialogue and peak Bruce and Duke interactions

signals and symptoms - a classic sickfic and like one of my fave bruce bonding fic ever ever EVERRR!! really introspective abt dukes character and just so well done

even exchanges - some of u are gonna hate me for reccing an incomplete fic and esp one that doesn't look like it's gonna be finished anytime soon but even exchanges is so formative to my duke characterizationalong with portraying such a fascinating dynamic w him and his new family. it delves into his messy and angsty experiences pre-becoming the signal and is overall written like several subsequent punches to the stomach. promise ur gonna bitch and moan about this fic as much as I do

scientific method - extremely cute fic, watch Duke bond w the bats and slowly get more comfortable with them over time as they all tru to figure out what the fuck this guys powers are. Really fun dynamic wise, the dialogue is crafty and captures the familiarity between the characters. Really realistic about day to day vigilante life and how genius the bats truly are. really slice of life fluffy shit w some bonus sciencey stuff

turn my voice human torch remind people what I’m fantastic for - truly a classic, Duke invites cass to slam poetry night. short n sweet I LOVE BUMBLEBATS RAHHHHHH

tradition - pure duke n bruce ice cream fluff

meal prep - real sad angst one shot ft. alfred

occupational health and safety violations - duke pov reverse robins but it's way out of order

write about flowers (at a time like this) - duke and dick fic where they meet pre we are robin. yes I just found this one yesterday yes I'm absolutely obsessed. it characterizes him so well and understands his thought process and motives and UGHH just tune in yall

sidequest: the viper pit - WE ARE ROBIN DND JUMANJI

signals of fear and hope - duke centric reverse robins, caters TTOME specifically it's so fire

and now here are fics that arent duke centric but he's in it and in character/well written and now forced into the back of the room aka some of my general faves that feature duke

gotham aviary - the batman fic where he just adopts a bunch of em truly adorable like the cutest thing you'll read

I walk the streets at night (with monsters in my mind) - dragon fic, absolutely goated 10/10

fight, flight - cass centric but duke plays a big role, they mean everything to me

[catholicdogxxx]

every single thought i had abt one piece live action

alvida is so hot im praying when she comes back she’ll have the slip slip fruit and still be fat please god.

introducing zoro with baroque works instead of with helmeppo was fucking genius, and mr 7’s redesign is pique. and the gore of zoro killing mr 7? sets a great fucking precedence.

binks brew playing in the background of the flash back where luffy eats his fruit >>>>>

i want a copy of nami’s book as merch

i love the little homage to the original of luffy planning to just fly in

having luffy be there for the scene with helmeppo and rika >>>>

ive said it once ill say it a thousand times how do they manage to make zoro even gayer. ill never get over the whimpering caption with helmeppo just crawling on the ground.

nami girlboss girlslaying even

zoro you cryptic little gay freak “then he owes me money” “didnt wanna make a mess”

im mad they didnt make captain morgan tell helmeppo he didnt beat him as a kid is bc he’s too pathetic to hit.

captain “we should be working for the same team” morgan. bro you are an elder fag preying on a young gay man. THE SHOULDER TOUCH???

roronoa “i kinda got my own thing going on” zoro

“7 days? i could catch up on my sleep”

“when i get down from here, you’ll be the one begging.” MY GOD YOU FAG

tag urself im the bead of sweat in zoros eyebrow

“get lost”

“i am.. lost”

“heyhey no. dont do that.”

my god nami’s actress is perfect the body language, tone of voice, its so accurate to how she was pre joining strawhats. and GOD her facial expressions in her first fight scene w luffy…

zoro almost dipping then deciding he wants to fight lmao i love it

“arent you that drunk from the bar?”

“glad i made an impression.”

morgan you didnt capture shit

inaki did a great job making luffy still look animated.

zoro cutting helmeppos hair is so fucking funny

garp knew exactly who it was when he first got that call

buggy youre sitting like SUCH a slut

buggy loves talking abt shanks like he’s an ex boyfriend

i wanna see what else buggy can do

zoro definitely had sex with cabaji and then killed his brother

i could watch yasopp shoot people all day

shanks casting is so well done im obsessed with the fact that none of the characters are the conventionally attractive roblox looking types

also the timing of luffy being drowned and the flashback to shanks saving him… timed perfectly great depiction of ptsd. same thing with zoros flashbacks.

“why gonna rob the place blind?”

“at least a little blurry”

i love the wlw mlm solidarity with nami and zoro, oh my god the scene of them getting dressed and nami picking out a shirt for him??? obsessed.

zoros pink ass drink

FUNKY BAR MIRROR BALL???

“arlonggg babyyyy”

“you dont think she like. like likes me do you?”

i love the way the meowmin twins move when theyre fighting in the stairwell

luffy grinning like a freak through kuros blades :333 and then the fucking thumbs up

luffys look to nami when kaya says they have a ship

damn they really just fucking murked merry

“they do know im the captain right?”

“let them have this one”

“we are” playing while they leave syrup village im obsessed

nami laughing for probably the first time in years at usopp and luffy fighting over who’s the captain

i could write an essay about the fear in garps eyes in that flashback (im going to)

“which way is port?”

“the left!”

“neverrrrrrr!”

“fine ya brat have it yer wae”

garp laughing bc he’s actually invested in his job again

the camera lense while luffy is smelling the baratie is fucking hilarious

“add food to the equation and suddenly he knows how to navigate”

ive said it once i’ll say it a thousand times inaki does a great fucking job making luffy still look animated

ill never get over sanji’s accent its so fucking fan indulgent

the little angry kick after he puts em on the fucking ground

“welcome to our shitty restaurant where the only thing worse than the ambiance is the food. my name is sanji what can i get for you?”

“any drinks one of our signature cocktails to help you choke down your meal?”

“apologies madam didnt see you there. would you care for an apéritif to start?”

sanji is such a freak oh my god i love him

zoro pointing it out is so fan indulgent

zoro grinning like an idiot when nami says “i need a drink”

im obsessed with usopps fishbowl

sanji’s smile talking about the all blue WAHHHH

i love live action sanji cooking

his fucking theme playing oh my god

zoro and nami comparing usopp to a sea slug

“i had friends”

“swords dont count”

“i had one friend”

“hell one more than i have”

zoro you fucking freak

why is he standing like that fucking fag

“because youre my friend you idiot” NAMI WAHHHHHHHH

zeff is so hot omfg

sanji’s desperate baby scream breaks my heart

i really like they went using with the original manga plotline for sanji’s backstory

“id eat both arms and legs to save zoros life”

putting buggy in the bag is so fucking funny

that zoom in on sanji yelling “zeff” what was that

god i love sanji and zeffs fight

zoro waking up scene is fucking adorable

zoro you fucking devoted freak i love you

ill never get over sanji’s theme

“the only thing i wanna hear from you is dinner specials”

baby nami is perfectly cast

BLACK NOJIKO BLACK NOJIKO

buggys body pinned up at arlongs base lmfao

“arlong has bled us dry”

“then find more blood”

i love helmeppo sitting like that lmao

bellemere’s death scene always makes me tear up jesus christ

“i thought itd take a lot more liquor to bring out your mutinous side.”

why was arlongs speech edited like that oh my god

“of course i will” makes me tear up every fucking time

nami drawing her maps in fucking blood is such great symbolism

“you look tired, maybe you should take a break”

“maybe you ought to get back in the kitchen”

“quit screwing around! luffy needs us!”

“you just got here you dont know what luffy needs.”

“i know he needs my cooking.”

“putting two slices of bread together?”

telling buggy to shut up in unison lmao

“im gonna get outta here.” while flipping them off

“fucking clown.”

USOPP EXPLODING STAR U GOAT

“i get it zeff was mean to you boohoo”

“you dont ever badmouth nami.”

“now youve done it.”

god i love taz skylar

“all great fighters call out there finishing moves”

“yeah youre gonna fit in just fine.”

SANJI WANTING TO HUG NAMI AND HER RUNNING PAST LMFAO

“back for seconds must have liked it.”

“at least i dont need 3 swords to prove im a man.”

garp jus beating the shit out of luffy

nami hitting nezumi >>>>>

god i fucking love nami talking at bellemeres grave

“i know what it means to fight for your family.”

luffy’s reaction to his bounty im in love

koby what was that gay ass look you want to kiss luffy so bad dont you

“be a good marine.”

“be a good pirate.”

luffy mimicking his poster

god i love makino

kaya with a different tea looking healthy 😭

luffy’s bounty up under employee of the month

BUGGY AND ALVIDA BUGGY AND ALVIDA BUGGY AND ALVIDA

god i love garp

helmeppo learning to be swordsman :33

“maybe the old chef was right. it id your turn.”

“i can still take you.” not in a fight…

their jolly roger 🥺🥺🥺

[zukadiary]

Hyperbolic Chart ~ Snow Troupe (2023)

Ah………….

Standing in the Seinenkan hallway and finding out Maaya Kiho and Ikuta-sensei got married feels like it happened in a different lifetime. So much has transpired since, little of it good.

SPOILERS (cw death, chronic pain, suicide—perhaps read below if you were thinking of watching this but are struggling with what has recently occurred in Takarazuka):

Hyperbolic Chart is a hospital drama of sorts based on a novel that follows surgeon Fernando de Rossi (Genius! Womanizer! Dark secret??) ((Kazuki Sora)) as he’s approaching the premature end of his life. He has an incurable illness that gives him a reckless streak, and a moral code that puts people first and doesn’t necessarily always agree with the written law. Although they have a great respect for each other, this puts him at odds with fellow doctor Lamberto (Agata Sen) whose moral code is very by the book. The chief of medicine’s daughter Clarice (Nonoka Himari) wants to marry Fernando, but he falls in love with the new nurse, Monica (Kasumi Sana). Love triangle aside, over the course of the show, Fernando decides to give one of his patients, Cesare (Ouji Kaoru), who is quite afraid of death, an unnecessary and ineffective surgery for his terminal cancer, while lying to the family about the surgery’s likelihood of success (the surgery scene takes the form an epic dance, in which Fernando metaphorically battles Death, played by Manomiya Rui). The hospital thinks this is ethically wrong, but Fernando thinks it’s important to give Cesare one last moment of hope, so his family can see him smile again. Cesare expresses gratitude for this decision in a letter he writes just before his death. Subsequently, Lamberto discovers via some x-rays that Monica finds in Fernando’s home that Fernando is also suffering from a terminal disease. He confronts Fernando, and they have an argument that ends in Fernando refusing treatment. In the end, Fernando takes Monica on a romantic trip to his hometown, introduces her to his mother, and ultimately decides to end his own life rather than suffer the pain of allowing his disease to run its natural course.

The themes of this show, which are very much about the role doctors play not just in physical care but also in emotional care and acceptance of death, as well as choosing one’s own path to death, kinda hit differently now.

Thoughts on the show itself though…

Agata Sen wore the 4.5 years that have passed since I last saw her PROUDLY. She was stately, handsome, subtle, in command, really got the intricacies of the complex differences between Lamberto and Fernando. There is no villain in this story; only the abstract conflict of opposing morals, neither of which are “wrong.” Agachin may still need to go to singing bootcamp, but she blew me away with how well she captured the nuances of this.

I went in hoping I’d wind up obsessed with Kasumi Sana, since I haven’t seen her before, I don’t personally care for the apparent musumeyaku track within the troupe, and at the time I thought I needed to have more of a vested interest in who would be next (guess I’m free??). I still have no idea how I feel about her, because I absolutely despise Monica. I don’t think it was Kasumi’s portrayal; I think Monica is a terrible character, the product of a female love interest in a workplace drama being written by a hundred-year-old man. She has no personality, she’s essentially thrilled about being sexually harassed at work, and considering Fernando’s MUCH more developed character, there is no basis for the strength of his feelings for her, other than she happens to be standing there one day while he’s thinking about death and she’s a woman so it’s her job to be available to receive his emotional burdens (and we are expected to find this utterly romantic). I find it infuriating, and I think it singlehandedly prevented me from feeling moved by the show.

Clarice is only marginally a better character (if one woman wins the man the other’s whole personality must be jealousy, right?), but I think Himari is probably a top 5 musumeyaku in the company right now in terms of acting, which helped.

Sora. I watched Hyperbolic Chart with about as light a feeling as one can have while watching this sort of thing, because I genuinely thought that she had about six years and a legitimate shot at top stardom ahead of her, and that my fantasy of watching her lead some kind of witty screwball enemies-to-lovers show inspired by a Cary Grant movie or something had more than zero chance of becoming reality in the future. I’ve never been so caught off guard by a taidan announcement, and it seems none of my friends/acquaintances (some of whom have fandom roots going back to like, Mori Keaki) have either. I felt this before, but I feel it even more now: who looked at Sora and thought ah, yes, the perfect canvas for our most fucked up tragedies?? Yume Chidori, Lovers’ Suicide, this… it’s been three leads in a row. On top of that, the latter two are Yukigumi re-stages that for me are kind of irreplaceable.

She was heartbreaking, she was good. Girl is a triple threat af, and has only become more so in my absence. But I’ve been watching her since she couldn’t stop giggling and could barely put a sentence together, and this role doesn’t fit the Sora I know. It was written for Chigi. I wish this wasn’t her last lead. I wish I’d sat in the theater for her one more time and burst with joy before everything changed.

[fairytalesofthewind]

Can I request The Avengers with winged!male!reader, who is a new member of their team? Reader is a ball of joy and love, he's like everyone's kid, until he gets snatched by Hydra agents and later is found with one of his wings cut off, leaving a permanent and ugly scar on his back. After that he shuts down completely, lays in his bed all day long and doesn't talk to anyone : he became a wreck of the person he used to be.

I really would like to see The Avengers helping him cope and Tony coming up with some crazy idea, which lead to Reader receiving a prosthetic wing and once again becoming an official member of The Avengers.

Anon, you are a true genius!

warnings: hydra (so also torture, a bit of gore, and kidnapping)

+ implied Stucky 

I called the male reader Icarus, you’ll find out why ;) I may be a little bit too obsessed by mythology. Sorry that I didn’t write with ‘you’. 

wordcount: 2424

Requests are open!

Icarus was found by shield at age 15. He had been an experiment of hydra for 3 years. He remembered the day the Avengers had infiltrated the facility where the majority of hydra worked. He remembered hearing the explosions and screams while he was trapped in the many cells of the building’s basement. The only occupied cell what that of his.

He had felt his surroundings shaking, had felt the dust falling on him as the building was ready to collapse. And then the bombs stopped getting fired. The screams had stopped. Icarus had thought the fight had completely stopped and that the people were either dead or that the people had fled. Icarus had thought no one was coming for him, and that he was trapped in his cell, no way to escape.

But then he had heard a single loud bang. It came from the door leading to the basement. He saw that the metal door had an imprint of a fist in it. Then he heard another loud bang, and saw how the imprint expanded. After a few more hits, the door gave away and fell to the floor.

A man with a metal came walking up to him. Icarus knew who he was, emphasis on was. Because the man ushering towards him wasn’t the Winter Soldier anymore. That was what the agents had told him.

“Hey kid. Hang on in there, we’ll get you out as soon as possible.” He said and came closer and inspected the outside of his cell. More specifically, the keypad in front of it. “Hey Stark, I’m gonna need your help here with some tech.” Bucky came even closer to his cell and Icarus’ eyes widen as his hands neared the glass.

“Stop!” Icarus yelled. Bucky froze at the command, and dragged his eyes up slowly to the panicked boy in front of him. “You can’t touch the glass.” Icarus warned him, his tone a bit softer. “It’ll trigger the alarms and then gas will come out of the ceiling.” Bucky frowned looked up at the top of the cell. In each corner was a camera, along with a small metal tube coming out of the walls. He supposed that the gas would come out of there.

“Is the gas deadly?” He asked the boy, there were probably going to trigger the alarms trying to get him out. But they would have to find another way if the gas is really dangerous.

“No,” Icarus started, “it just makes me go to sleep.” Bucky nodded as stepped away from the glass container. They would have to wait for a few minutes until help – the help being Tony- arrived.

“So…” The boy drawled out, “Are you really a 100 years old?” He wanted to look at Icarus with a ‘are you serious’- look but as he saw the curiosity written on his face, he responded a soft smile.

“I’m 106 years old.” He felt a pang of amusement as he watched Icarus’ eyes widen.

“Isn’t that a bit weird?” Bucky tilted his head, silently asked the boy what he meant by that. “You know…with friends, and lovers. You’re much older than them.”

Suddenly Stark entered the basement and said: “Well, Bucky doesn’t have any problem with that seeing as his boyfriend is also a super soldier and also very old.” He strutted over to the keypad on his cell. Icarus stared at him with wide eyes because – oh my God this is The Tony Stark.

“Friday baby, tell me how to get the angel out.” He said. Icarus blushed a bit, most of the agents didn’t call him an angel because of his wings. But rather demon. He didn’t which one fit the best seeing as he had neither white wings, nor black, but brown wings.

Tony was quiet for a few long seconds. He looked concentrated, not that they could see his face through the helmet, but his head was tilted just a bit. He let out a loud drawn-out sigh and said: “Yeah, no can do, that’s going to take hours. I’m just gonna blast it.”

Icarus straightened up immediately, if he were to do that he would just trigger the alarms. It wouldn’t do much to the glass either, because it was made of something special. Before Icarus could let out a warning, he heard the zooming of Iron Man’s blasters and then he heard a small explosion.

The boy made eye contact with Bucky after he saw gas coming out of the metal tubes. Just before he slipped into unconsciousness, he picked up the curse words both of the men let out.

Only a few hours later did Icarus wake up. It was very quiet around him, but there was also an unfamiliar sound that he didn’t recognise that made him realise that he wasn’t in his cell anymore. Did the agents change their mind on waiting a few more months to send him on a mission? Did they suddenly decide to get rid of him? Did they-

“Ah, you’re waking up.” The voice was so much more gentle than he was used hearing. It reminded him of how his family used to talk to him.

They were dead now, by the way, with courtesy of hydra.

Icarus opened his eyes and looked to his right where the voice had come from. He recognised the man, he was the Falcon. Sam was still wearing his suit, with his metal wings. Icarus eyes fell to the said wings and frowned.

“You know, you guys are in big trouble.” The people around him straightened up. Already thinking of the possible things the boy could say. There was something you didn’t think about, this was just a distraction and now the shield base has been taken care of properly. You lost-

“These are copyrighted.” Icarus pointed to his own wings. “I could sue you for plagiarism.” Sam lowered his head in relief as he let out a little chuckle.

“I’ll pass it on to the boss.” He said as he looked to the other side of Icarus. The boy followed the line of sight and saw Tony sitting on the other side of him. He was immediately attacked with concerned questions about how he was feeling. Tony told him that they were going to bring Icarus somewhere safe, there were going to give him a home. But all Icarus could think about was, oh my God, this is The Tony Stark.

Icarus was 16 when he started his training. He was done basically living in the hospital wing of the tower. Apparently hydra had really taken a toll on him. Physically and mentally.

He had begged the captain to train him. But Steve had refused time and time again claiming that Icarus wasn’t ready yet.

Between recovery and asking for training, he became friends with Sam. Well, he became friends with everyone. You could even say that he became their family. But it happened with Sam the fastest. Sam took care of him from the start. He visited Icarus every day to check up on him. He helped the boy get comfortable. Icarus saw Sam as a…dad?

They would fly together almost every night. They would soar over countless buildings in New-York. They would stop on skyscrapers and talk about everything and nothing. Sam became his best friend, he became his family.

Icarus was 17 when he realised how much the Avengers truly cared about him. It was his first mission, and the Avengers were acting like overbearing mother hens. It wasn’t even a big mission, it was just to pick something up and bring it from place A to B. But due an unexpected rainstorm Icarus couldn’t fly back. He arrived hours later than he should’ve had at the meeting point.

And to say he had received an ear full about it was an understatement. For the next few days after that mission, he had heard one rant to the other. It was all the same: about how he was precious, about how bad it would be to lose him because he was their family. He was their ray of sun- no scratch that- he was their sun. He was their kid.

Icarus was 18 years and 2 months old when one of his mission went seriously wrong. Sam wasn’t there to support him in the sky. And Tony was needed on the ground. But as multiple planes left to escape, he had to go after them. There weren’t only hydra agents on those plane, but also innocent hostages. Hostages that would probably get used for the same purpose Icarus had been used for.

So he couldn’t just let the planes go. He went after the plane of which he thought was filled with hostages, but was only filled with agents. He had entered the plane just before it’s backdoor had closed. He realised his mistake as he was suddenly surrounded by a dozen men with guns.

One of the men closest to him raised his gun towards him and shot. Icarus felt a sharp prick on his neck and he already knew what was going to happen. Just before he slipped into unconsciousness, he picked up the curse words his family let out on the comms.

Icarus was 18 when he was recaptured by hydra.

Hydra had claimed they had no use for him. They already had a better reproduction of him.

But that didn’t mean that we are just going to get rid of you, no stupid demon boy. We are going to have a bit of fun with you.

Icarus was 18 years and 5 months when he lost one of the most important things of his life.

He lost of one his wings. That means that he not only lost one of his limbs, but he also lost being able to fly.

He wouldn’t be able to do the thing he loved the most, he wouldn’t be able to fly anymore.

Icarus was 18 years and 8 months old when the Avengers had to save him again from hydra. But the boy they saved wasn’t the Icarus that had been captured. He was missing something –besides from the obvious; his wing.  

From the moment Icarus had returned home, everything went just a bit worse day by day. He was unhappy, of course he was. Not only had he lost his wing, but he also had a very large scar where it used to be.

He felt terrible. He would spend almost every hour buried under the safety of his blankets in his bed. He didn’t leave his room, no matter how much his family tried to get him out.

One day Bucky entered his room, he brought some tea and breakfast with him. “Good morning, little angel…” The rest he said fell on deaf ears. Icarus had buried himself under his blankets himself.

A few seconds later felt the cold rushing over him. The bed dipped beside him, Bucky sat on the blanket so that Icarus couldn’t use them to hide anymore. But it didn’t really help much as the boy just turned his back to him, his one wing currently hiding himself.

Bucky cleared his throat. “Look, I know how much this sucks. I lost my arm, I know how it feels.” Suddenly Icarus had sat up, and was now looking at him with an angry face.

“You think you know how I feel?!” Icarus pushed him off the bed. They were now both standing with Icarus pointing a furious finger at him. “You just lost your fucking arm! I didn’t just lose my wing, no I lost the thing I loved the most! I can’t fly anymore, and you know whose fault is that?” Icarus kept walking closer and Bucky kept stepping further away from the boy.

“It’s my fault! I was overtaken by my giddiness of the mission and I got distracted, I was too overconfident.” Bucky was almost in the hallway with the way he kept backing up.

“And besides, James. You got a metal arm in return. You can still do everything!” Unlike Bucky, Icarus didn’t have another wing.

And that, had given Bucky an idea.

Icarus was 18 years and 11 months when Tony had dragged him out of his wing towards his lab. He didn’t give him any choice to struggle back, he was coming whether he wanted to or not.

Tony had covered his eyes just before they entered the lab. He had made him sit on a stool. He heard a few nervous coughs, so he knew that the other were there as well.

Tony granted his sight back after a few seconds of rambling something that Icarus was too tired to listen to.

“-and we hope you will like this…”

In front of him, on a stand, was a metal wing. It was a similar size of his own. He had thought: what is the point of a monument? But then Icarus realised that what he was seeing wasn’t just a metal wing, it was also a suit. He felt a few tears roll down his cheek and immediately afterwards felt someone’s arms going around him.

“Oh, it’s alright, angel. It’s going to be alright.” They let him cry his heart out, patiently being there for him.

It was a few days later that Icarus sat in the craftsman’s lab again. Tony was securing the many straps on his new suit. He explained him the rules of the new suit, of what it could and couldn’t do. “Now, Sam will help you fly again. He knows how the metal wing work. My advice for now is to not fly too low, or too high. You don’t want to hurt yourself.”

Icarus was 19 when he was given back the thing he loved most; being able to fly. He was able to be happy again. He picked up the nightly flights with Sam again. Sometimes staying away from the Tower until 5AM. He was almost back to his normal self; he was already back to being the most energetic member of the team, and he showed how grateful he was almost every second of the day.

This night he was sitting on a building with Sam eating his pepperoni pizza.

“You know, you’re in trouble, right?” Icarus looked up at Sam with raised eyebrows.

“These are copyrighted, and you know, I could sue you.” Sam pointed at his metal wings with a small smirk.

“Copyrighted my ass, you can’t beat the original.”

[lightns881]

DTeam Tumblr Demographics Survey Results (Part 1):

The Gifted Child Syndrome is Real with this One...

*Rubs hands together in preparation for some juicy data and in-depth analysis of the typical member of the DTeam Tumblr community*

Ooooooooh boy! Here we go!

I want to start of by thanking you guys for over 400 responses to the demographics survey! Y’all have no idea how much I appreciate it! We have so much to cover, so I’m going to divide up different sections of the survey into several posts to make it more digestable and do justice to each topic explored in the form! We’re going to start of with, you guessed it, personality types!

Strap yourself in because we’re about to thoroughly dissect your sub-conscious innerworkings and find out how the typical DTeam Tumblr Fan thinks! (And judging by the majority personality types, you guys will probably enjoy it)

The Delicious Data

From the 449 responses we received, this is a pie chart displaying the personality types of all respondents.

Image Description: INFP (40.5%), INTP (15.1%), INFJ (8.9%), INTJ (8.9%), ISFP (6.9%), ENFP (4.2%), ISTP (4.0%), ENTP (3.8%), ESFP (1.6%), ISFJ (1.6%), ENTJ (1.3%), ENFJ (1.3%), ISTJ (1.1%), ESTP (0.4%), ESFJ (0.2%), ESTJ (0%)

In comparison, this is a pie chart displaying the personality type percentages of the population as a whole according to the MBTI website.

Image Description: ISTP (14%), ESFJ (12%), ISTJ (12%), ISFP (9%), ESTJ (9%), ESFP (8%) ENFP (8%), ISTP (5%), INFP (4%), ESTP (4%), INTP (3%), ENTP (3%), ENFJ (2%), INTJ (2%), ENTJ (2%), INFJ (1%)

I don’t know about you guys, but I’m sensing a tiny difference here... Oh, right!

INxx’s on the Loose!

It’s funny. When I first found one of the 18+ DTeam fan servers through Tumblr, I asked everyone what their personality type was. I was pleasantly surprised when a lot of them told me they were INFPs like me!

It actually reminded me of MatPat’s (Game Theory) survey for one of his Life Is Strange theories that found the majority personality there was also INFP...

Funny enough, can you guess what the second leading personality on that survey was? The third? The fourth?

You probably guessed it right. MatPat found that out of the fans who responded, the leading majority was INFP while INTPs came in second, INFJs came in third, and INTJs came in fourth. The exact order for the personality types in DTeam Tumblr.

But why is it that some of the rarer personalities of the world are dominating DTeam Tumblr or Game Theory’s fanbase? What is it about these communities that attract the rare introverted Intuitive Perceivers (INxP) and Intuitive Judgers (INxJ) of the world like magnets?

The Gifted Kid Syndrome

To answer this question, first we have to examine our leading personalities. As we can see from the data, INFPs and INTPs make up 55.6% and INFJs and INTJs make up 17.8% of the total respondents. That’s nearly 3/4′s of the DTeam Tumblr population made up of INxx types!

Now, here’s me calling y’all out.

A lot of you probably relate to the quiet kid sitting at the back of the classroom who’s put into some type of TAG, gifted program, or some authority figure has probably called you smart and/or “gifted” at some point in your life. Academics probably came easy to you at one point, maybe they still do.

You’ve probably felt your chest swell up at the shower of compliments about your intelligence and at another... you’ve probably felt like people put you in a pedestal and overrate you so you’re stuck with this inherent fear of failure, and it causes you to completely shut down when the things that came easy to you at one point no longer do so. 

It’s gifted kid syndrome hitting you like a brick to the face. And if it hasn’t yet, oh you’re in for a surprise, honey.

And I’m sure many of you have come across funny, relatable posts like this:

And you want to know why most of you relate?

Image Description: INTP, INTJ, INFP, anf INFJ’s rate the highest in a giftedness per MBTI Type chart

No. You’re not hallucinating. It’s not even a joke at this point. It feels true because it probably is true.

(Granted, the study that captured similar results to this graph is long lost to the internet, but the best source I found with it was a reddit post I will be citing in the reblog.)

Now, my next point is where we find a split.

INFPs and INTPs and their Need to Question Everything (even if it’s about one sentence [insert creator here] said that one time during a 4-hour long stream)

The strongest connection I found between the two leading personalities of DTeam Tumblr is they share Extraverted Intuiting (Ne) as their auxiliary cognitive function.

I’ll use a quote that explains Ne better than I could ever explain it in my own words:

“Extraverted intuition or Ne is very much focused on patterns and making connections from information they gather... Ne dominant users enjoy being able to explore things in a much more open manner, not wanting to feel closed off to the possibilities around them... They are also highly imaginative people, who enjoy being able to come up with unique hobbies and experiences... They are not afraid of imagining things which seem almost impossible to others... [For INFPs,] Ne is what creates this detailed and incredible thoughts process which keeps them busy for long periods of time.”

And another:

“Auxiliary Ne manifests in people constantly questioning the world around them, but unlike ENxPs, they can be more pick and choose about this. But generally, they don’t take people, things and events at face value.“

Now, think about the community you’re in right now. Think about the post you’re reading at the moment.

DTeam Tumblr is full of over-analysis posts, whether about Dream and George’s secret love for each other or about the inherent problems with Dream’s shipbait and gay jokes or theories about what’s going to happen next in the dream SMP lore and the dramatic betrayals and creator’s descend into madness and more theories about sexuality and charts depicting creator’s personalities and what they’d be likely to do in different scenarios and... ooof, I’m out of breath here. You get my point.

DTeam Tumblr is literally a group of ex-gifted or gifted introverted people who love to read or write analysis, theory, and discussion posts about sweaty Minecraft Youtubers because they’re probably too overwhelmed by real life and find joy in obsessing over “dumb” things.

That’s it. That’s literally the post. I might as well end there.

But I won’t. 

Because obsessions is exactly what I want to focus on next.

The Inherent Nature of the INFP and their “Micro-Obsessions”

This is me having a one-to-one conversation with all my INFPs reading this.

Do you sometimes just set your mind on a goal--like, let’s say, writing a book--and you spend so much time obsessing over it to the point where you burn out and suddenly it never sees the light of day because you move onto your next goal or obsession because now you’re getting ready to launch your freelance website so you can start a business on [insert new hobby here]?

Or do you just suddenly find a fandom or a show or a channel you really enjoy and you spend the next few months doing nothing but engaging with it and reading fanfiction and drawing fan art or making dumb analysis posts on your main Tumblr account where suddenly you get an influx of followers from that community and now people are expecting you to just post about MCYT!?

Oh, sorry, I got a little carried away at the end there...

Anyhow, my point is, do you ever develop an obsession over something all the sudden only for it to just disappear when you find something new or just fall into the deep crevices of your mind only for it to maybe reemerge a few years later after you get a deep sense of nostalgia remembering it?

I call them micro-obsessions. And I recently found out, I’m not the only one who does this!

Here’s another quote for you: 

“According to Carl Jung’s theory of cognitive functions, when an INFP makes a decision, Ne comes in second to another process known as Introverted Feeling (Fi). Fi does not use logic to make a decision. It uses how we feel about the decision according to our values. In other words, it asks, “Which choice feels right for me?”

Ne, on the other hand, craves new ideas and experiences to explore, which causes INFPs to always be on the lookout for something novel.

Unfortunately, INFPs can get stuck in a loop, going back and forth between their Ne and Fi. They search to understand their values by constantly trying new things. They ask themselves, “Does this feel right?” then throw it over their shoulder as they move on to something else.”

So, you’re probably asking right about now, Light, how the heck does any of this have anything to do with the Dream Team and MCYT!?

Well, my friend, it has EVERYTHING to do with the Dream Team and MCYT and DTeam Tumblr as a whole.

Because INxx’s are predisposed to end up in places like this--fandoms on Tumblr, channels that speculate whether Mario is evil, watching dramatic Minecraft smp wars and elections as opposed to looking at the news that depicts Murphy’s Law as 2020′s new favorite epigram. 

The introvert in them causes them to prefer socializing in small communities online where they’re not forced to engage in conversations if they don’t want to or put into uncomfortable situations where they have to talk to that one friend of their friend who wants to make meaningless small chat.

Their Intuition causes them to wonder into places like Tumblr where they can engage in deep discussions about their newest obsessions, and they won’t be judged for writing a 500+ word post about why Dream’s shipbait tactics are a genius algorithm strat or simping over sweaty Minecraft boys.

DTeam Tumblr is a safe haven for INFPs and INTPs who might be placed in the “other” category or marked as weird for being interested in “childish” entertainment or being different from the general population overall, whether that’d be sexuality, point of view, age, gender, etc. A place where you can fully be yourself and not have to worry about disappointing people.

INFPs are predisposed for drowning themselves in their micro-obsessions to avoid all of the madness in the world--even if that means giggling like a little girl while reading memes about your favorite Minecraft YouTube creators.

That is a deep-dive into the mind of a typical DTeam Tumblr user. What do you think? Is it accurate at all? Is it completely off? Let me know in the comments!

And with that, I digress. I’m not sure whether I’ll be covering general demographics next week or diving into the topic of ships (could be a mix of both), but I will be posting about it eventually, so make sure to hit the follow if you got to the end of this post and enjoyed it or learned something new from it!

Friendly reminder that this survey and post is in no way supposed to be taken 100% seriously. These are just the ramblings of a math major INFP with too much time on her hands and way too big of an obsession for MCYT. My asks are always open for literally anything, whether if you want to ask me about this or any DNF related subject, my own opinions, or just criticize the whole of this post and tell me it’s complete trash! I’ll answer as long as it’s appropriate!

And, again, thank you everyone who filled out the survey. Without y’all, this post wouldn’t be possible. I really enjoyed writing it! Adios!

[roachyreads]

Book #4 of 2022

"The Way of Kings" by Brandon Sanderson

Spoiler-free Summary:

This is the first book in a series called the Stormlight Archives. It follows the stories of many different people in a world called Roshar, made up of many different kingdoms, including Jah Keved, Alethkar, & Shinovar. Through his amazing writing, Sanderson tells the tale of Kaladin, a once-soldier who finds himself a slave; Shallah, a desperate girl striving to become a scholar to save her family's kingdom, and many others. After the murder of King Gavilar, the world breaks into chaos, leaving the plethora of characters clueless in a war that may be a lot more than it seems on the surface.

Full thoughts below the cut :) And watch out, this one was a DOOZY so I have a lot to say!

(Tell me about your favorite book here!: https://bit.ly/3s1QWh0 )

- Before I start off with my comments, I want to say that this is the longest book that I have EVER read. Holy shit. I never thought my attention span would stay focused long enough to read a book with over 1200 pages. I'm pretty proud of myself!

- The first comment that comes to mind is that Brandon Sanderson is a GENIUS storyteller and world-builder. Roshar is a whole different world, with it's own social customs, norms, and even natural properties to the world. The idea of the highstorms coming from the East (and that being pretty much the ONLY thing they know about the highstorms), is so interesting to me, and really peaked my curiosity. Societal aspects that Sanderson included, such as the social class hierarchy around eye color or the gender-divided labor, was INCREDIBLY interesting to a sociologist such as myself. Everything about this world captures your attention, and leaves a curious reader thirsty for so much more lore (And Sanderson HAS it to give~!)

- I will say, though, because of all the world-building, it took a while to get hooked onto this book. The first third of it is very slow, and I practically had to have the fandom wiki open constantly in order to recall details about names, places, or important notes. This isn't necessarily a complaint persay (I was kind of expecting it with a book this long), but still took me aback a little bit.

- I had a hard time choosing my favorite characters. I felt really drawn to Jasnah Kholin, because of her wits and intelligence. Similarly, I really found myself liking Dalinar as well - not only do I like reading about inner workings of politics, but reading about this man practically unravelling in his own head was really engaging, to say the least. I think overall, though, Rock is my favorite. Somethin' about that big ole loveable guy that just makes my heart warm.

- I hate Elhokar though. Spineless young king? Yuck.

- This book also has a ton of twists and turns. Sadeas's betrayal was HUGE and severely unexpected, it had me reeling until the very end of the book. - Also, as a side note for anyone potentially wanting to read this book: it is /graphic/. And I mean Read About a Slave's Head Getting Bashed in with a Rock in the First Chapter" kind of graphic. Not for the light-hearted, but violence and gore do not bug me as much - thus, they are a welcome theme in my book. (Lesser so the slavery. I'm glad Sanderson focused heavily on anti-slavery rhetoric throughout.

- I REALLY enjoyed that there were illustrations ever so often from Shallan's/Navani's sketchbooks. It really helped put some of these abstract creatures - such as skyeels and cremlings - into perspective.

- Speaking of creatures, this book is RICH with creative fictional flora, animals, and even....spirits??? manifestations of energy/emotions?? Even after reading this one, I'm still not sure how to describe spren. I look forward to learning more about them in the coming books.

- Without putting TOO much more stuff in this post, I can not express enough how much this book pulled me in. I fully expected to go into this and lose interest halfway through - but now I am obsessed with the lore and the world building, the storyline and the coming plot. Sanderson really knows how to write in such a way that keeps you on the edge of your seat and makes you never want to stop reading!

- One of the only reasons this book didn't get a 10/10 is because of the amount of cross-reference I had to do with the wiki. It was hard to keep up with so many names, races, events, beings, etc, and my ADHD-having ass could NOT remember any of it. Thankfully, though, the wiki is pretty well fleshed out and true to the text... just watch out for spoilers if you end up following me down this beautiful, creative path ;) Thx Brandon, for a wonderful read!

- (And thank you to my truly amazing coworker Emily for lending me the first and second books. I'm sorry my cat ripped the fuckin pages out the night that I brought it home but I promise this new copy is so much better - and has that new-book smell!)

BEST /|\(^-A-^)/|\ ~ROACHY

[taylorswiftstylequestions]

Would you be willing to do a TxT for SOUR? Not even necessarily a full Instagram highlight, but I would love a screenshot of your initial notes if you took them or a couple lines for each song in a post on here or even a ranking. No hurry though, I know you're digesting and it'll take some time if you do decide to share. Just wanted to let you know the interest is there!

Hi! Thanks so much - that's very flattering that anyone would be interested in these thoughts. I didn't take any initial notes but some high level thoughts on each of the tracks below.

brutal - What a banging opening track that perfectly encapsulates what it feels like to be a teenage girl not just for all teenage girls but in particular I feel right now for this generation. It's so current and is SUPER fun sonically. This writing just really showcases Olivia's tone of voice so well.

traitor - Right into a sweeping ballad which is a very good one, imo. Rhyming "date her" with "traitor"? Melodramatic teenage genius tbh.

driver's license - Still not a fave for me but nice and I appreciate the integration of car noises into it and how this was the song that really catapulted her to where she is now. A great debut single that captures who she is as an artist and distills the main message of the album.

1 step forward, 3 steps back - Big "Dear John" vibes with the "Which lover will I get today?", making the "New Year's Day" interpolation all the more appropriate. I'm a Taylor fan so of course I'm a sucker for the third chorus lyric change but: "I'd leave you, but the roller coaster's all I've ever had" is so good.

deja vu - SLAPS. STILL SLAPS. This one was my immediate favourite of the three singles. One of my album favourites. This song feels like "Love Story" and "Our Song" in that it's such a simple but novel concept to a love song (Romeo and Juliet but with an alternate ending, a couple that doesn't have a song of their own so the artist writes one for them -> Taking the idea of deja vu in a sarcastic and biting way as you observe your ex replaying his dating playbook with a new girl). It's freaking genius.

good 4 u - Is there anything more cathartic than absolutely screaming "LIKE A DAMN SOCIOPATH" as you drive down a highway? No. There isn't. Big "Picture To Burn" meets "Misery Business" energy.

enough for you - That third chorus lyric change aw ye. Do I get sick of it? Nope. "Stupid, emotional, obsessive little me" makes me simultaneously sympathize so much with what she went through in writing this album and also feeling grateful I never have to be a teenage girl again because that is exactly how that shit feels.

happier - One of my album favourites. I just love how Olivia displays such a strong sense of self-awareness throughout the entire album. Being cognizant of her own flaws and how they contribute to the messy tangle of emotions that she feels. Knowing that she's bitter and petty and selfish but that that also doesn't make what she feels or her predicament matter any less. This is the emotional shit for me. Love.

jealousy, jealousy - Relatable on so many levels and relates back to the previous note and an excellent example of how while this is predominantly a teenage breakup album, it's also more than that. It's the distillation of the teenage girl experience. THIS IS SO REAL. "I'm happy for them, but then again I'm not" / "I know their beauty is not my lack, but it feels like that weight is on my back". I think this song was really one of those songs that made me feel so grateful that this album is there for a generation of teenage girls who need to hear that what they're going through is real and it's not their own isolated experience. Every teenage girl is. And to not feel alone in that.

favorite crime - Truthfully the song that didn't hit me as much as the others but this is a great example of Olivia utilizing metaphor in her songwriting which I feel like she's usually more literal? Gives me reputation / "Getaway Car" energy in a sense. (Please note these comparisons are not detractors to the work Olivia has done or her individualism as an artist - I don't make these comparisons in spite but merely as lines drawn between this art that I like to existing art that I also like).

hope ur ok - God just thinking about if I had had this song as a queer high schooler figuring out my sexuality and what it all means and feeling not right and the fear and anxiety of coming out to my family and being judged. What that would have meant to me and hopefully what this means for people going through it now? GAH. Tears. This is also the one that reminded me most of Lorde.

[comradesummers]

Top 5 books or anything I should read

Hi, thanks for asking!

I’m an English major, so I can’t remember the last time I read a book that wasn’t for class. But I’ll try to recall what it was like to read books solely for pleasure. Also, I’m not going to be ranking the books because I don’t want to and I’m going to have 6 books instead of 5 because I feel like it. (Fair warning: I could write a lengthy content warning for every single one of these books, so if you’re worried about that sort of thing, I do recommend you look them up before you read them. You’re also welcome to ask me about it.)

Catch 22 by Joseph Heller

So this book was extremely written by a white guy in the 60′s. It’s the kind of novel that galaxy brain dudebros are constantly recommending to their girlfriends. But given that I put a David Foster Wallace book on this list, I might just have to accept that I’m a galaxy brain dudebro at heart.

Anyway, this novel is a brilliant deconstruction of the absurdity and tragedy of war and capitalism. It’s hilarious, clever and heartbreaking. I think a lot of authors do the non-chronological timelilne thing just to seem more interesting than they actually are, but in Catch-22, the non-linear timeline is used perfectly. The narrative works on an emotional level (even if it’s a bit confusing on the linear level) so that a lot of plot points that are initially presented as funny and absurd become such emotional gut punches later. For a book that’s known for being so clever and above it all, it is also unabashedly emotional and Heller truly cares about his characters in a way that very few satirists do. It’s a book that will make you laugh and cry and care a whole lot more than you were expecting to.

The Ocean at the End of the Lane by Neil Gaiman

So this is kind of a weird one for me. It’s really short, more like a novella than a novel, which isn’t usually my thing. Also, the characters aren’t really characters, they’re archetypes (which is done on purpose, because that’s how a lot of short stories work, but I know that’s a turn-off for some people). I’m also not a huge horror fan and this is one of Gaiman’s more horror-y outings. So why do I love it so much? Well, it’s basically Childhood Trauma, the book, and it does that really really well. Like, through it’s archetypes and its horror tropes and its general use of shorthand, it captures this really specific atmosphere of nostalgia and fear. It’s like one short but perfectly constructed dose of pain and catharsis and it achieves that through restraint. It’s a brilliant little piece and I love it a whole lot.

Beloved by Toni Morrison

So, if it’s not clear by now, I love me some good emotional storytelling and there’s no genre more beholden to emotion than the gothic novel. And, with all due respect (and love) to the Bronte sisters, Beloved is the best gothic novel of all time. I’m honestly struggling to explain why it’s so good. Partially because everyone already knows its good. I mean, it’s a classic for a reason. But partially because talking about this book and its contents is really difficult. This is the saddest book I’ve ever read. There’s no other book that destroyed me quite as much as this one. I’ll probably never reread it because it was so hard to get through the first time. Morrison’s prose truly takes you to the depths of the pain of her characters. It presents the horrors of slavery mostly through the trauma of the aftermath and it does so with such care and brilliance. This book is truly a masterpiece and if anything on this list is required reading, especially for my fellow clueless white people, it’s this one.

Brief Interviews With Hideous Men by David Foster Wallace

I was considering leaving this one off the list, just because I was embarassed to admit that I’m the kind of person who likes David Foster Wallace. I mean, I might as well start vaping and mansplaining while I’m at it. But I decided to be honest instead, so here we are.

Anyway, I was never able to get through DFW’s headier stuff. Like I really did try to read Infinite Jest, but I could not get through it. But Brief Interviews is a short story collection, which is great, because if DFW gets too far up his own ass in one of the stories, you can just skip to another one. And to be honest, I do think there are some shitty stories in this one (wtf is that Tri-Stan shit David?). But the ones that work? Holy shit do they work. I’m not even remotely kidding when I say that The Depressed Person is what finally convinced me to go to therapy. Like I read it and I realized that if I related to the character that much, I really did need help. It’s such a good story and if you don’t want to read the whole book, at least read that one. Personally, I think it’s the best thing DFW has ever written. And the interviews themselves are almost as brilliant. Like, I know that DFW is most well known for his post-modern experimental style and his weird obsession with tennis, but honestly, I think he’s at his best when he writes character studies. He’s really good at creating uniquely shitty human beings and then truly getting to the core of why they are that way. And Brief Interviews is the crowning achievement of that.

Go Tell It on the Mountain by James Baldwin

So James Baldwin is a genius, obviously, and there are plently of novels of his I could have chosen for this list. I went with this one because I love books that follow multiple generations of one family, and this book is easily the best version of that that I’ve ever read. It’s a novel about the cycle of abuse, religion, racism, segregation, poverty, police brutality, coming-of-age and sexuality. And even though the book is pretty short, it covers all of these themes brilliantly and thoughtfully and with such love and care. It’s also semi-autobiographical, which is probably why it feels so personal and gut-wrenching. Objectively, it’s probably the best book on this list. It truly is a masterpiece from beginning to end. Also, no offense to Umberto Eco, but it has the best religion based hallucination/vision from God (depending on how you choose to read the scene) scene in any book ever.

The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay by Michael Chabon

So I know I said I wouldn’t rank anything, but this is probably my favorite book ever. The best way I can think to convey my love for it is to tell you that I’ve associated it with an unrelated song (The Only Living Boy in New York) and there are few things I care about more in the world than making sure that that song will be used in one particular scene in the inevitable TV adaptation, even though I know that’s never going to happen because it would be a completely anachronistic song choice.

It’s hard for me to describe why I love this book so much. Part of it comes down to a really specific personal connection. My grandpa, like Joe, escaped the Holocaust and went to New York and had a really close relationship with a distant cousin of his because the Nazis had killed most of his extended family. So yeah, as a Jew, this book hits pretty hard. But also, as is probably pretty apparent by now, I love pretentious prose that uses way too many big words. I also love emotional and thematic stortytelling and oh boy does this book have that in spades. And the character work is so gorgeous and I care about these people’s relationships so much and the comic book sequences recapture the feeling of golden age comic books so perfectly and god I love it so fucking much.

[retvenkos]

survivors | d.m.

Harry Potter: Golden Trio Era - Draco x Slytherin! Halfbood!Reader, angst, slightest fluff

word count: 11.2k

tw: blood, mentions death, mentions of war, pessimistic ending

A/N: this could be read as a platonic reader, if you want.

Summary: Draco couldn’t fix the Vanishing Cabinet himself, no matter how hard he wanted to. (Y/n) hadn’t wanted to help him, but they decided to, despite themself. Neither knew each other very well, but there seemed to be an understanding. Perhaps they could fix it together, and perhaps (Y/n) could fix the broken boy, too. Or maybe both of them would be shattered beyond recognition.

i.

and i am angry at this world                 because i was not one of the innocent they decided to save.

ii.

During his sixth year at Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy didn’t feel as alive as he once did. This castle was colder and quieter than it used to be, and as he patrolled the dungeon corridors for his prefect duties, he felt a chill in the air; the cold pricked the back of his neck - that bit of exposed skin between the ends of his hair and the stiff collar of his uniform. Despite himself, he twitched at it’s touch; the cold reminded him of darker memories that threatened to pull him under, reminding him of what happened over the summer.

If he closed his eyes, he was still there.

The harsh clicking of his father’s cane as he walked down the hall, someone else accompanying him by the sound of their footsteps. A voice that sounded like the hissing of a snake - high and cold and beckoning him forth. His mother’s frightened gaze and his father’s stiff jaw. The soft pleads of protest. But who were they to defy the Dark Lord...

Draco could still hear the sound of their approach, echoing against these aged, stone walls. The incessant sound filled his senses. His fingers twitched. His arm started to burn as the sound of footsteps came nearer. Echoing, echoing, echoing...

“You would be an idiot if you weren’t such a genius.”

A voice, not at all what he was expecting, brought Draco reeling into the present. The footsteps weren’t that of phantom memories, but the sound of someone in the castle - in this dungeon with him - traversing the corridors in the few moments before curfew.

“You could make a fortune off of your skills if you sold them the right way. What other students here can make their own spells?”

Draco stepped closer to the wall, his interest peaked. He fiddled with the cuff of his sleeve, waiting for the voices to speak, once again. He wouldn’t scare them off. He had never been much good at being a prefect, anyway.

“Michael, we talked about this. They’re all a work in progress - do you remember what happened last time I tried them out? I won’t make a fool of myself because they aren’t perfect.”

“That was one time, and you knew things weren’t going to go well. And I can’t remember the last time Hogwarts pumped out an actually decent spell creator! The talented only come once every lifetime - you shouldn’t pass this up.”

The voices devolved into arguing for a moment, until one of them swore lowly. “It’s curfew. You need to get up to Ravenclaw Tower.”

“Think about it, (Y/n).”

“Go.”

Footsteps filled the corridor once again. Draco took a deft step backward, further into the shadows, and a fellow Slytherin rushed past the corridor, never noticing the prefect that watched them. Draco pushed his lips into a thin line, grey eyes narrowing just a bit. The echoes faded, and when the corridor was silent, he breathed. Running a hand through his hair, Draco turned away, disappearing into darkness and shadow.

iii.

When Draco Malfoy sat down next to them in Charms class, (Y/n) supposed it was an oversight. Rumors about Draco not feeling well had been circulating the Slytherin gossip lines for the whole two months that school had been in session; Malfoy had missed classes regularly, skipped out on meals completely, and seemed to be neglecting his usual bully behavior, trading it all for a personality that seemed to be more like that Blaise Zabini than the boy he used to be. Sitting next to (Y/n) had to be a symptom of this strange illness that seemed to have captured him - maybe he was too tired to care.

Yes, that seemed to be it - he was tired. He certainly looked it, when (Y/n) spared him a glance, their eyes flicking over to him for a half moment while Flitwick was demonstrating their lesson for the day.

There were dark circles under his eyes, a sort of gaunt appearance to his well shaped face, and even though he seemed to be very keen on stopping it, with his eyes focused the way they were, his hands seemed to be shaking, just slightly.

(Y/n) turned their attention back to the worn textbook in front of them, scratching notes on a spare bit of parchment. They tried to focus on the words written on the page, but their mind still wandered to the boy beside them.

Together, the two students’ thoughts swirled like winds in a tempest - never in one place at one time, but simultaneously everywhere. This world seemed to be pulling everyone in all possible directions, spreading them ever thin, as though trying to test when they would snap.

Both Slytherins, different as they were, weren’t the type to break.

Some days, they wished they were.

(Y/n) failed to notice the careful way Draco appraised them. His eyes flitted from their old school supplies to their mended robes, and yet the newness in other belongings that perhaps didn’t need to be bought anew every school year. (Y/n) eventually caught him staring, and Draco leveled his gaze with theirs.

“I need your help,” and even his voice resounded from his throat, as though he had no energy to sustain it in his chest.

(Y/n) blinked. Once, twice, three times. “I’m sorry?”

At the front of the classroom, Professor Flitwick was giving instruction on the Reducto curse, but his voice was fading into background noise, now, as (Y/n) stared at the boy beside them. Of all the things they could have guessed Draco Malfoy to say to them, that was not one.

“You know what I asked for.”

Again, he was tired - too tired to explain his baffling request, too tired to give any kind of context as to why he had come to them, or whatever he needed help for.

“My help?” They didn’t get so much as a sigh, which was interesting, to say the least. (Y/n) wanted to scoff, but they had to keep their voice low enough for the professor to not take notice. “Why would you- What purpose—” their mind eventually caught up with them ”—Why do you think I’d give it?”

“Because I’m—”

“Draco Malfoy, yes.” The scoff escaped them, agitation setting in. (Y/n) pulled their gaze away from the boy to turn back to the front of the classroom, eyes narrowing as they pretended to read the writing on the blackboard. “What would your father think of you getting help from the likes of me?” They all but spat their words under their breath.

Draco seemed to twitch uncomfortably at the mention of his father, but he played it off with a roll of his eyes - the first real reaction (Y/n) had got out of him the entire conversation. “He’d think it shrewd of me.”

“Like keeping your enemies close?”

“Like keeping allies near. Us Slytherins are all one big brotherhood, aren’t we?”

“I think you muddied those waters when you’re obsession with blood purity extended to belittling us halfbreeds.” (Y/n) fixed Draco with a withering stare. He looked down at the desk, scrutinizing the aging wood. His demeanor shifted to something deeper than what lay on the surface, and a wiser person would have stopped there, but (Y/n) couldn’t let it go. “Suddenly you want to be family?”

Draco breathed in deeply as though by expanding his chest and allowing for more oxygen, the tension between them would dissipate. For a long moment, he didn’t speak. The two lapsed into silence, and Professor Flitwick's voice floated over to the two of them, regaining precedence.

“It’s important to keep in mind this spell is very volatile. It’s unlikely you’ll get it correct on your first try…”

(Y/n) allowed themself to decompress, their shoulders dropping and their hands relaxing on the page of their textbook.

For what could Draco Malfoy possibly need their help? They weren’t even friends, but he had the gall to call them family.

“I’d settle for partners.”

The bell rang. Students around them started to pack up, hurrying to their next class. Draco didn’t move a muscle.

(Y/n) fixed him with a stare that betrayed their display of anger and showed some of the interest within. They picked up the bottle-green bag beside them. “Then I suppose that depends on how much you’ve changed over the summer,” they spat, already standing to leave.

“Quite enough, I think you’ll find.”

(Y/n) paused on their way out the door but resisted the urge to turn around, instead pushing forward through the bottlenecked door with renewed conviction.

Who did Draco Malfoy think he had become, asking for favors like they were old chums or something of the like? What did he even need help for, that he couldn’t ask his posse of loyal followers? That Blaise Zabini was smart, and Theo Nott wasn’t too bad, either. Of course, Theo was a halfblood too, so maybe Draco had managed to piss him off in his fourth year as well, when he started to sneer at halfbloods as though he were somehow greater than them. It wouldn’t be surprising, really, if Draco had somehow managed to alienate all of his “friends” in some way or another. He wasn’t known to have much of a filter with his thoughts.

Maybe that was what all of this was about. Draco had mentioned his father thinking their conversation was “shrewd” - maybe Lucius Malfoy had a little conversation with his son about not alienating the people around him. Perhaps there was a little father-son chat about revitalizing the family image with the Death Eaters and the rise of You-Know-Who being what it was. How quaint. Did they have him updating his father in person, too? Is that why he looked like he hadn’t slept since summer?

Part of (Y/n) insisted that they were being overdramatic about all of this and that they should get a hold of their emotions. No one was really at liberty of being emotional during times like these, and maybe, deep down, Draco really had become something that wasn’t beneath asking genuine help of someone without having ulterior motives.

After all, he had been tired - without real signs of deception or bigger purpose… and he was… shaking - as though genuinely nervous or afraid and.... and he had said something that made them stop in their tracks… that the summer had changed him “quite enough,” said with a sort of bitterness and resignation that was unlike any kind of Draco Malfoy (Y/n) knew…

(Y/n) slid into their Herbology seat with practiced ease, and when they went to grab their textbook, they came up with an Astronomy book, instead.

“What?”

(Y/n) didn’t have Astronomy, and this textbook was far too nice to be theirs. Maybe it belonged to their roommate? But then why was it in their bag? (Y/n) clearly had the right bag since they had pulled out their textbook in Charms, and—

(Y/n) flipped to the inside cover of the Astronomy textbook in front of them.

Property of Draco Malfoy.

Professor Sprout started the lecture just as (Y/n) swore under their breath.

Their Herbology partner turned to them questioningly, and (Y/n) asked to share their textbook for the day. Their partner complied readily enough and (Y/n) shot them a smile. The rest of the lesson, (Y/n) calculated the quickest way from the greenhouses to the Slytherin common room, where they would no doubt find Draco Malfoy skipping yet another meal and doing whatever it was that occupied his time. They had switched bags, somehow, and (Y/n) was keen on getting theirs back.

When Herbology was finally over, (Y/n) all but sprinted to the dungeons. Of all days for this to happen...

When they reached the steps that led down to the common room, they saw Draco Malfoy standing at the bottom. A book was in his hands, and as (Y/n) descended the stairs, they got a better look at it.

Their heart dropped.

Draco was flipping through the pages of a tiny, leatherbound book. It looked inconspicuous enough, a kind of journal that was old and weathered, but (Y/n) knew who it belonged to, and what was hidden inside.

It was (Y/n)’s spellbook - always stuffed to the bottom of their bag in case inspiration or genious struck All of their spells were in there - from the nearly refined to their half-baked disasters, every spell (Y/n) had ever had the idea to create was in that book, along with every failure. If Draco had looked at their disastrous attempts from third year...

“I’m not here for games, Draco.”

“Neither am I.” Draco held out the book to them and (Y/n) snatched it, also taking the school bag that was at his feet - no doubt theirs. “I only needed to check - Ravenclaws have a way of dramatizing things, and since you weren’t happy to help…”

“Check what?”

In the half-light, it was hard to tell what Draco was feeling, or at least, what he’d allow to show. But when he spoke, his voice still carried a fatigue that wore him down and made him appear as though without an agenda. “That you can help me.”

(Y/n) rolled their eyes. “Again, what makes you think that I will?”

“You need money, don’t you? I recognize signs of wear when I see them, and you were rather quick to get back your used textbooks - probably borrowed, since you don’t have any older siblings and our textbooks aren’t as old as our parents. The (L/n) family must have come into financial trouble recently,” Draco reported with a sigh, as though he found no glee in this run around of his. Was this the same boy who used to flaunt his observational prowess, making scathing remarks about the most minute details of others?

(Y/n) wanted to snap that they didn’t need his money, but they had enough common sense to not be proud. The Malfoys were one of the richest families at Hogwarts. If Draco was willing to pay... at least he would be good for the money… and he had been looking at their spellbook. If he needed a spell, it would be nice to experiment on someone else’s galleon, wouldn’t it?

(Y/n) swallowed. “What do you need?”

“A spell, and your secrecy.”

(Y/n) nodded slowly, still weighing their choices. They had nearly made up their mind, but something still ate at the back of their mind, like an itch that couldn’t be satiated. “Why did you think I’d help you?”

“I knew you would.” Draco fiddled with his sleeve. “Because you want to know my secret.”

iv.

When Draco said they were going to the Room of Hidden Things, (Y/n) hadn’t expected the room itself to be hidden. It would have been ridiculous, and yet, looking at it, everything seemed to make sense. The room only appeared when you asked for it, and it contained thousands of knick knacks, all sorted and piled on top of each other haphazardly, the facade of order.

If everything ever hidden lay within this room, (Y/n) wouldn’t be surprised. The room seemed to stretch off into infinity, the walls on either side disappearing behind stacks of lost things that reached impossibly high, never appearing to meet a back wall. Everything in the Room of Hidden Things was seemingly left to oblivion, stacked and scattered with no real rhyme or reason, things left behind and obliterated from memory. As they walked deeper in, (Y/n) found themself searching, as though there was something they needed to find.

If Draco felt the same urge, he hid it well, winding around piles of lost things like one would walk around their own home in the dark, completely aware of where everything was and able to avoid things that others tripped on.  (Y/n) found themself wondering, ‘How many times had he been in here?’

Draco stopped in front of a tall, imposing cabinet with wrought iron detailing. The black wood seemed so stark against the rest of the room that (Y/n) wondered how anyone could miss it, and yet, if they turned their head as to put it in their periphery, the cabinet seemed to disappear.

Funny, how it could be there, but not.

After a moment, (Y/n) was able to place why it looked so familiar. The Vanishing Cabinet. Why was it here, of all places?

“It’s broken and no mending charms have worked on it - not even in conjunction with others.”

(Y/n) nodded, opening the door to the cabinet and taking a look inside. So that’s the kind of spell he needed.

“You probably heard about Montague getting stuck in a kind of limbo last year when the Weasley twins shoved him in.”

“So it has a twin.” It was more a statement than a question, but when (Y/n) caught Draco’s eye, they found an affirmative answer that almost looked guilty. (Y/n) turned away, rifling through their bag to find their creation book.

(Y/n)’s mind was flitting about, again, trying to call up all the information they had ever learned about passageways and vanishing cabinets, mending spells and charms. To modify a spell would probably be too simple for the complexities of a Vanishing Cabinet. They would have to start from scratch. (Y/n) flipped to the page where they wrote down the methodology of apparition spells. Maybe the answer lay within the creation of the spell rather than the outcome. Apparition spells might apply to the spontaneity of the Cabinet...

Draco handed (Y/n) a book or two that were clearly ancient, the pages themselves written in fading ink.

“I found these in that pile—” he gestured to a stack of books that reached into the heavens “—they’re the only decent information I’ve found so far.”

(Y/n) nodded and moved to sit on the floor, placing the books carefully in front of them. Draco retreated to the base of the tower of books, picking up a few that were scattered around a large chair that caught (Y/n)’s eye. It seemed out of place - pulled from the pile of furniture that was closer to the entrance and devoid of the thick layer of dust that seemed to permeate everything in this haven of the lost.

After a moment, (Y/n) realized it as a makeshift bed - a blanket that looked like it once belonged to a Hufflepuff thrown over the arm, a stack of clothes next to the chair, and Draco’s bag hanging from it.

How often was he in here?

(Y/n) turned their gaze back to the Vanishing Cabinet before them, trying not to dwell on what the Slytherin Prince had become. They had a job to do; a Vanishing Cabinet needed fixing.

But why, of all things, a Vanishing Cabinet?

“Planning on disappearing, Malfoy?” Their tone was light, playful. (Y/n) turned to face him, and he was stock still.

Draco didn’t respond, just looked at the cabinet with an intensity that seemed to bring the weight of the word onto his shoulders. He tugged at his left sleeve, and for a fleeting moment, an answer was swimming in his eyes.

‘Yes.’

v.

It had been around two weeks since (Y/n) had been first introduced to the Vanishing Cabinet, and ever since, their evenings were spent in the Room of Hidden Things, their attention split between homework and the puzzle before them.

One part of them was intent on creating the right spell. If they were able to do it correctly, this new spell could be revolutionary, potentially changing the way mending spells were thought of for years to come. With the way that Vanishing Cabinets worked, it wasn’t just the cabinet that needed to be fixed, or the passageway in between, but the space that was warped when the door to the cabinet was closed. It was mystifying, to say the least, and the possibilities were endless.

Another, more nagging side of (Y/n) was intent on figuring out why Draco needed a Vanishing Cabinet in the first place. What purpose did he require of it? Better yet, what purpose could it serve? The possibilities for this, too, could be infinite.

“(Y/n)? Are you listening?”

Michael Corner, their friend of six years, bumped his shoulder into theirs. They were walking to Potions, and he had been chatting about how he hadn’t seen them in a while - not since they started slipping out of the Great Hall early after dinner.

“Yes - you think I’ve been trying to perfect my failed spells from third year and I’m too proud to tell you that I actually do listen to your advice.”

Michael grinned. “So… are you?”

“I am working on my spells, if that’s what you’re after.”

“And have you taken my advice on selling them?”

(Y/n) thought for a moment. After all, they were getting paid for what they were doing for Draco, so technically a ‘yes’ would be appropriate. But if Michael started to ask who bought it and for what reasons, (Y/n) wouldn’t be able to say.

“Maybe,” they said, lamely.

It seemed to be enough for Michael, though, and he talked excitedly about the possibilities as they made their way into the Potions classroom. (Y/n) approached their seat and Michael groaned. “It sucks that Slughorn assigned us partners. I’m stuck with Hermione Granger and, well, you know how she is. Potions could be so much better if we got to choose who we work with.”

(Y/n) sat down in their seat, sighing before fishing for their textbook in their bag. “You’re not the one stuck with Malfoy,” they deadpanned as usual, but the words didn’t fit as naturally in their mouth as they once did.

“Yeah, but when does he even show up to class, anymore?” For emphasis, Michael slid into the Slytherin’s assigned seat.

The two devolved into their usual banter, talking about common interests and idiotic assignments. Professor Slughorn walked into the room two minutes or so before class started and when Michael swore, he fixed him with a stare. Things were as they always were, but then something changed.

 Draco Malfoy walked into the classroom, and Michael was surprised, but quick to slip out of his seat. He chose to hover near (Y/n)’s end of the table, and while he was careful not to stare, his eyes flicked to Draco. He wasn’t the only one; the whole class seemed to notice Draco’s presence, but Malfoy seemed to be avoiding the production of it all - very unlike him. The pallor in his skin didn’t seem to be getting worse, but the melancholic air that seemed to follow him was palpable.

Any day, now, the rumors would get worse and the speculation would start. What was eating at Draco Malfoy?

(Y/n) had been working with him closely for two weeks, now, and even they weren’t any closer to figuring out the truth.

Harry Potter seemed to have particularly keen eyes, whispering to his friends without losing eye contact.

The whole of Hogwarts seemed to be holding its breath, unsure of what was to come, but anticipating how bad the storm was going to be. Michael tried to ignore the shift in demeanor, nudging (Y/n) with his arm.

“I’m still surprised that Harry Potter ended up getting the Felix Felicis - I was honestly expecting Padma or Hermione to get it. Since when is Harry a potion making prodigy?”

Beside (Y/n), Draco stiffened. (Y/n) let out a puff of air like a subdued scoff and Michael smiled. So the Potter-Malfoy rivalry was still going strong.

Michael scratched out a note on a spare bit of parchment and stuck it in (Y/n) textbook with a conspiratorial wink. “I’ll go see if I can snag some of Potter’s notes, yeah? Maybe he can spare a bit of genius.”

With that he was off, and (Y/n) rolled their eyes before turning to the front of the classroom. Draco was still on edge beside them, his shoulders taut and head bowed in such a way that (Y/n) couldn’t catch his eye.

It was later, when (Y/n) was flipping through their textbook to the instructions for the potion they were to make, that they found the note Michael had left behind.

‘At least you know you have something to make his blood boil.’

vi.

“We’re going to need space,” (Y/n) muttered to Draco. They had agreed to meet by the statue of Lachlan the Lanky when going to the Room of Hidden Things, and Draco was already there when (Y/n) arrived. “Testing out this spell could be dangerous in such a cluttered space - the entire room could be destroyed.”

Draco nodded deftly and (Y/n) could tell by the way his eyes narrowed that he was thinking of a way to fix their problem. It had been a little over a month since the two started to work together, and after being Potions and Alchemy partners, working beside each other during their free period, and spending their nights in front of the Vanishing Cabinet, the two knew each other better than they cared to admit. (Y/n) still held fast to the idea that they were acquaintances at most, but there were times when they saw him in the Room of Hidden Things, sitting on the chair he used for a bed, and they knew what he was thinking. Acquaintances couldn’t do that, could they?

Draco walked past a section of the corridor three times, his perpetually tired expression furrowed into concentration, and the vanishing door appeared. As soon as they could, the two Slytherins ushered themselves in. This time, they were met with a bright light.

(Y/n) blinked furiously, and when their eyes adjusted, they realized they were looking at the sky.

Bright blue and without clouds, the sky seemed to mimic that of a summer’s day. The sun that beat down was a welcome change from the cold winds of December, and (Y/n) let the warmth fill them as they took in the view. The Room of Hidden Things had somehow shifted into a vast, open field that was full of tall, yellowing grass.

The field seemed to stretch into oblivion, never quite ending as it reached a horizon point. (Y/n) felt something like calm wash over them. This place carried a mixture between knowledge and peace. A little ways out, but close enough to be identified were the only two things that upset the sprawling landscape - a willow tree with low hanging branches, far more serene than the Whomping Willow that Hogwarts students were familiar with, and the Vanishing Cabinet.

“What is this place?” (Y/n) still gaped at what lay around them, eyes eagerly taking in every color that seemed to bleed in the way a painting would.

“The Room of Requirement is whatever you need it to be.”

“And the Room of Hidden Things…?”

“Inside it.”

Draco looked worse, somehow, in the full light of the sun; his skin was more pale, like death had already touched him and all he had left to do was walk to his grave. (Y/n) couldn't look long.

The two started toward the Vanishing Cabinet. (Y/n) felt the distinct urge to put their hands out to feel the grass brush against their skin, to see just how real this beautiful illusion was. If the room could create this, what else could it fathom?

If (Y/n) could stay here forever, would this room create a reality beautiful enough to keep them?

(Y/n) sat their bag down a few paces away from the Vanishing Cabinet and rolled up their sleeves. Draco retreated to the foot of the weeping willow. (Y/n) checked it to make sure that it stood far enough away from the blast zone. It seemed alright.

(Y/n) placed a spare bit of parchment into the Cabinet and took a few steps back.

“Harmonia Nectere Deambulatio!”

(Y/n) turned their wrist precisely and grey wisps of light illuminated from the tip of their wand. The Vanishing Cabinet before them lurched forward abruptly and (Y/n) staggered a few steps backward. The Cabinet righted itself and after a few moments of hesitantly watching it to see if the cabinet would be pitching itself to and fro once more, (Y/n) quickly approached and opened it.

The paper inside was far worse than what they expected; the parchment shredded and burning, as though it did some acrobatic routine for the circus with very poor aim. (Y/n) quickly doused the flames and turned back to their book, scratching out the failed attempt.

(Y/n) sighed and started again, trying out a few variations of the spell they had already drafted up, praying that one of them would work. After an hour or so of the Vanishing Cabinet turning out botched attempts, (Y/n) decided they needed to rethink the spell itself, and not the delivery.

This wasn’t their first spell to go wrong, but it was definitely the hardest, since gauging what needed to be fixed was near impossible. (Y/n) figured that it had to be the passage between each Cabinet. The slicing of the paper was most likely a failure to use the passage - it was torn on its way to the other cabinet and when fragmented, couldn’t be supported through the warping of space, so it was spit back out and was lit on fire from the friction.

(Y/n)’s focus, then, should shift from the spontaneity of the Vanishing Cabinet and work on the passage rather than the walk through it. It was the space between that needed warping… perhaps they should look at their notes of Transfiguration spells, they were particularly good at warping space… a safe bet, too, since Transfiguration was fairly testable and not overly theoretical, compared to other spells...

(Y/n) looked at one of the books Draco had given them a week prior. From what those books taught, tangibles were off the table with Vanishing Cabinets. A safe bet might not fix anything. But anything else might be more risk than it was worth...

Maybe a principle of Alchemy could be used. Transmutation might be the key - not shifting the length of the passage, but shifting the properties of the passage, making it safer to traverse… of course, transmutation spells were highly dangerous when not perfected, and seeing as most of the creation of their spell had to be theory rather than tested reality...

Both (Y/n) and Draco would have to be very sure it was the route they wanted to take, and then they would have to be incredibly careful. Especially in a room where space itself warped… if anything went wrong, the spell could kill both of them.

(Y/n) had never been the best at Alchemy, but Draco was a prodigy when it came to the subject. It was one of the few classes he showed up for, anymore, and since (Y/n) had gotten better at reading him, they noticed that Draco actually took interest in the subject. He seemed to be fascinated by the idea that one thing could be made into something completely different with dedication and patience.

But how much could (Y/n) trust Draco? He hadn’t screwed them over, yet, but would he, eventually? Maybe it was only a matter of time…

But, then again, what did he stand to gain?

Both of them were working day and night to solve this problem. Draco may not have fully understood how spells were made, but his research was invaluable, and there was no way either could do it on their own. Fixing a Vanishing Cabinet was improving upon Ancient Magic, all of which was confusing and uncertain, to say the least. There was a reason why there were few Vanishing Cabinets in existence, and a reason as to why Dumbledore didn’t fix the Cabinet himself. It’s near impossible. There’s no way Draco could do it on his own.

He needed (Y/n), and he seemed to know it, too.

(Y/n) sighed and walked over to the willow tree where Draco sat, calling out to him, their voice faint, like it would be in a real, empty field. They parted the tall grass as they went, feeling the scratch of it on their legs and arms. The sun seemed to have dipped lower in the sky, but the suspension of time that the Room of Requirement always held still stood. (Y/n) could only guess how long they’d been here - a few hours, maybe - but it didn’t feel like it had been long enough.

“We’ll have to shift our theory - I think the basis of this spell has to be Alchemical properties or at the very least Transfiguration. It’s tricky, though, since this magic is so old…”

Draco was asleep, a book from the Room of Hidden Things opened on his stomach. He looked disheveled, pale blonde hair mussed up, his robes in disarray. His sleeves, always pulled low, were starting to ride up on his left arm and (Y/n) could see the skin beneath, pink and rubbed raw, as though he scratched and agitated the length of his forearm all day long.

(Y/n) sat down beside him, far enough away as to give him privacy, and yet close enough so that neither was alone. The field around them suddenly felt more exposed than before - (Y/n) understood why Draco chose to sit underneath the tree; the low hanging branches of the willow tree created a sense of security - like they could hide, if they had to.

Draco had nightmares. It didn’t take long to realize that - he twitched and fidgeted in his sleep, expression twisting into something torn between fear and pain. (Y/n) wanted to wake him from his spell, but when they looked at him and saw the pallor of his skin and the circles underneath his eyes, they knew it was best to keep him resting.

Sometimes you fight a war on two fronts, and there is no escaping it. Draco needed to rest. And who was (Y/n) to decide whether the terrors of sleeping or waking were worse?

At some point, they must have fallen asleep, too, because they awoke to Draco shaking their shoulder, his eyes averted and his hands cold. The painted sun had dipped over the nonexistent horizon, and the moon was out.

“We need to go. It’s after curfew.”

(Y/n) stood up and smoothed out their uniform, nodding deftly.

“I’m a prefect, so just follow my lead and no one will ask questions.”

vii.

“We’ll try out the transmutation theory.”

(Y/n) pulled their gaze away from their Charms essay to stare up at Draco incredulously. It was nearing midnight, and with most of the students being gone for the holiday, the Slytherin common room was empty.  Draco had just entered and was on his way to the dormitories, but he stopped on his way and spoke to (Y/n) in a low tone.

“You know the risks, right?” Draco just stared pensively into the fire that blazed beside them. “Are you willing to die for this?”

Maybe it was the flames that threatened tears to his eyes. “I’m dead, either way.”

viii.

The bell rang, signaling the end of Transfiguration, and the classroom erupted with life, people closing their books and racing out the door. As far as last classes went, Transfiguration was okay, but at the end of the day, everyone wanted to get out as quickly as possible. Michael nudged (Y/n) when he was shoving off, reminding them to grab some dinner before they holed themselves up for the evening. (Y/n) shot back a retort and he flipped them off as he left, earning a scolding from McGonagall.

“Sorry, professor.”  Michael ducked his head apologetically, but when McGonagall turned around, he caught (Y/n)’s eye and winked.

(Y/n) rolled their eyes, shoving a quill in their bag as McGonagall fixed her attention to them. “(Y/n) (L/n).”

The Slytherin snapped to attention. “Yes, professor?”

“Would you remind Mr. Malfoy that he still has my class, even if he chooses not to attend?” McGonagall took a step closer and (Y/n) held their gaze, more surprised than anything else. “It’s not imperative he show for lessons, but he does need to turn in his work if he expects to continue with this subject.”

(Y/n) was caught off guard. “O-Of course.”

“He is slated to take Transfiguration next year, and N.E.W.T.s will not be kind to those who don’t dedicate themselves.” McGonagall looked at (Y/n) over the top of her glasses, seemingly more stern than before. “I know you and Mr. Malfoy are close - perhaps you will be able to motivate him.”

(Y/n) shrugged their bag onto their shoulders, a little too eager to leave. McGonagall seemed to take note, but waited patiently for (Y/n) to speak. “Oh, um… Draco and I are just partners in class.”

McGonagall pressed her lips into a thin line. Was it… amused? Knowing? “I’ve heard, you frequently meet up by the statue of Lachlan the Lanky, as well.” Her eyes still carried that intensity. Perhaps her gaze was more of a warning.

(Y/n) looked down and swallowed, mind racing. “I’ll tell him, professor.”

“Thank you.”

(Y/n) walked out of the classroom, and it wasn’t until they were in the dungeons that they dared to breathe. McGonagall's words were inconspicuous enough, but it was the way she said it that struck (Y/n) to the core. If McGonagall knew about them meeting up at the statue, what else did she know? Maybe it wasn’t much, but she felt justified to bring it up. And in that tone…

She could know anything, maybe even more than (Y/n) - and if McGonagall knew, surely Dumbledore did, as well.

When they entered the Slytherin common room, Draco was inside, sitting with Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson. They were talking in hushed tones, and the concern in their gaze was palpable. If it has been a few months ago, (Y/n) would have pretended like they hadn’t seen anything and gone avoided their stare. But now, they just pressed forth.

At the sight of (Y/n) approaching, Pansy stood and pulled Blaise with her, putting a hand on Draco's shoulder before leaving. (Y/n) locked eyes with the two retreating figures and there was something grateful in their stares.

(Y/n) averted their gaze.

“Draco,” (Y/n) sat down on a couch across from him and kept their voice low. “I think Professor McGonagall knows.”

Draco was careful not to show interest in his body language, but his eyes were sharp, wary. (Y/n) leaned in a bit, telling him all that happened, recalling the strange way that McGonagall looked at them and how she knew where they met up. The shadows of the fire played against Draco’s gaunt features, making him look almost ghostlike as he listened intently.

“The only reason I could see her keeping tabs on you is because of that rumor Harry Potter is spreading about you giving that cursed necklace to Katie Bell.” (Y/n) shook their head, blinking and they missed the way that Draco froze at the mention. “But either way, we need to be more careful.”

For a moment, the two just sat in silence, eyes intent on their hands as they tried to see a place beyond this present. Both were unaware of what the other was thinking, and yet they both wished the same - that is world would stop around them - if only for a moment.

The fire behind them raged and the voices of those surrounding them didn’t cease.

(Y/n) sighed and tipped their head back, looking at the glass ceiling above them, dark waters rippling from the movement of merfolk and the Giant Squid. What would it feel like to be suspended for your whole life, never coming up for air? Peaceful, perhaps.

“Don’t worry about the professors.” Draco spoke suddenly, and (Y/n) sat up to find him mimicking their actions, still looking up at the lake, his hands fidgeting with the sleeves of his button-up. “They know perfectly well they could stop us if they wanted to. They could know everything if they wanted. But they don’t.” There was a bitterness in his tone that seeped in slowly, then all at once. “They don’t meddle in anything I do. They don’t concern themselves with us. They don’t—”

Draco cut himself short. (Y/n) looked at him for a minute, their expression soft but broken - a little wondering. The wondered if they understood Draco a little more - maybe they recognized that anger, simmering on low, the fire just able to be sustained but burning out.

“They don’t save us, do they?” and it was a whisper, but it felt earth shattering.

Draco sighed, his eyes fluttering closed. “Not us.”

ix.

On Wednesday nights, Alchemy students were expected to go up to the 16th turret where classes were usually held to do an extra lesson. Part of their curriculum required the moonlight filtering through stained glass to complete, and Slughorn said there was no way around it. It was the only night of the week when Draco and (Y/n) didn’t go to the Room of Requirement to work on their project, the only night when they breathed just a little easier.

The sky was lighter than the usual inky night. The moon was full and brightly reflecting, and it’s solemnity in the sky was a stark contrast to Professor Slughorn’s excitement as he flitted about, giving instructions on how to complete the assignment. There were a few stars that managed to twinkle in the sky, and (Y/n) found themselves transfixed by them, wishing they were admiring the night sky for stargazing, instead of work

It was much easier, admiring something from a distance; dealing with things closer to the ground was heavier on the heart - it took more of a toll.

Draco worked beside them quietly. Things between them usually were quiet, with the occasional word or moment of recognition in the heart of the other. Questions weren’t usually welcome, but (Y/n) could sneak in a few, every once in a while. Especially during Alchemy; Draco was more relaxed up here - almost content.

Slughorn went over to Padma Patil at the front of the classroom, leaving the pair of Slytherin’s in shared solitude.

“I can’t imagine you’re sleeping well, in the Room of Hidden Things.” (Y/n) whispered so no one would hear, sure to make their tone soft, unlike anything that might set the other into a mood. Draco turned to them for a moment, impassive, but didn’t say a word. (Y/n) tried again. “I realize the Cabinet’s important, but enough to sacrifice your health? Why?”

More silence. There had been a time (Y/n) wouldn’t have minded.

“Can’t you tell me anything?”

Draco’s jaw flexed, and he was so thin it stuck out more than normal, sharp with a jagged edge. (Y/n) eyed him with a guarded expression of their own, allowing silence to lapse between them as Slughorn walked by. He checked on their progress with an impressed hum, and once the professor was out of earshot, (Y/n) interrogated Draco once more.

“I just want to know something - this is dangerous for me, too.”

Draco seemed hesitant. After a moment, he spoke, “I have to do this,” he whispered, almost more to himself than anyone else.

“I don’t understand why.”

“No, you don’t.” Draco looked at them sharply but (Y/n) wasn’t one to back down. His eyes flicked around the room, as if to see if anyone noticed his sudden movement, but no one seemed to take note. Still, Draco turned back to his work, shooting his next words out of the side of his mouth, eyes blazing with something that was white-hot, but not anger. “And you wouldn’t.”

“So I get to do your dirty work, but without an explanation? Did you forget we’re being watched?” (Y/n) shook their head, expression tight with anger.

“If I don’t do this, I’ll die. Is that a good enough explanation for you?” Draco’s jaw twitched and (Y/n) heaved a sigh, through with his dramatics. Every day it got worse and Draco didn’t seem to be opening up anytime soon. It was exhausting, and for what? A few Galleons? A feeling like they were somehow helping him? 

A secret? Draco was fiddling with his left sleeve, again, and (Y/n) had the familiar feeling that they already knew the answer to any question they might ask.

The rest of the evening wore on in silence. Both Slytherins were tense with emotion, thoughts swirling around them, the tension in the air almost thick enough to taste. Occasionally, the sounds of others wafted towards them - Slughorn’s footsteps, excited whispers, low swears and were quickly reprimanded - but neither spoke a word or did so much as to spare the other a glance. Eventually, Slughorn dismissed everyone, walking out himself, and the only two left were Draco and (Y/n).

(Y/n) stood up and gathered their things, and after a moment's hesitation, faced Draco with a guarded stare. They breathed in, “I’m going to figure out what’s happening, Draco. But I’m not going to like it if I have to figure it out on my own.”

With that, (Y/n) turned to leave. But before they could walk away, Draco had caught their arm. (Y/n) turned back around with a sigh. He was standing, now, and the moonlight that filtered through the stained glass window drowned him in deep shades of red. 

“Do you know my family’s allegiance in this war?”

(Y/n) felt their blood turn cold. “Well, I…” they stammered, “I figured—”

“Then you have your explanation,” he cut them off bitterly,  and was quick to look away, releasing his hold on them and cleaning up his things.

(Y/n) blinked. Once, twice, three times. Tightening their grip on their bag, they walked towards the door to open it, but their hand rested on the knob. Their mind was like a tempest - never in one place at one time, but simultaneously everywhere, trying to remember everything they had ever believed in and everything they thought they knew.

“We’re meeting again tomorrow, right?” And (Y/n) hated the way their voice sounded; soft and unsure. They looked back to see Draco - really see him - but his expression was just as conflicted as ever, just as pained and stiff and grasping. It was almost as though he were drowning in his own sin, bloody and red.

After a moment, he nodded, grey eyes pausing, for once, never leaving theirs.

“Then I’ll meet you there.”

x.

Draco passed (Y/n) the apple and they set it down in the middle of the Vanishing Cabinet, it’s lively green skin stark against the black cabinet. They shut the door carefully, and took a step back.

Yesterday, for the first time in their five months of working together, a piece of parchment Vanished properly. After three different theories on the spell, about 12 different spell variations, and many late nights, it was finally working. There was a sort of peace in that, and yet something akin to dread seemed to settle in the air - almost thicker than the dust that permeated the Room of Hidden Things.

Draco seemed to feel it, too. His weight seemed to settle heavier in his bones, his entire essence dragged downward, somewhere where he couldn’t be found. They weren’t going to be saved by anyone but themselves, but sometimes it seemed Draco didn’t have the fight in him. Not anymore.

His hands were shaking, and the boy made to fix the cuffs of his sleeves. (Y/n) reached out and grabbed his hand and he turned to them, sharply. (Y/n) didn’t say anything, just squeezed his hands once, then let go. His hands stilled.

“Harmonia Nectere Passus.”

It was best done as a whisper, with the slightest curl of the wrist. The light was soft and melancholic. The Vanishing Cabinet didn’t make a sound nor shudder, just stood there, imposing as ever.

Draco opened the cabinet. It was empty.

Despite themselves, both smiled.

He closed the door.

“Harmonia Nectere Passus.”

The wrought iron was cold as (Y/n) pulled the cabinet open, once more. They picked up the apple, same as before, and it was perfect. (Y/n) turned back to Draco and gave him a solemn nod. He walked over to the bird cage that stood beside his makeshift bed, pulling out the white songbird within. It sang.

Draco closed the door.

“Harmonia Nectere Passus.”

The singing stopped, and (Y/n) didn’t need to open the door to know that it worked. But they did, and the cabinet was empty. When the cabinet was secured again, and all that was left was to say those three words, they both hesitated. The two Slytherin’s stared at each other, unwilling to breathe in fear that it might not work.

Or worse, maybe it would.

Draco lifted his wand slowly, and when he spoke, his voice was thick, but each word carefully crafted. “Harmonia Nectere Passus.”

The silence was deafening. Draco’s eyes flicked to (Y/n), and when he saw his own fears reflected in their gaze, he swallowed hard.

Inside, the bird was dead, it’s tiny, white body sitting in a sea of darkness. (Y/n) picked it up, knowing they had to determine how it died to fix what had gone wrong when it rematerialized. When the bird was cupped in their hand, it’s body was still warm.

They turned around and Draco was crying.

xi.

The Room of Hidden Things was a maze. Without windows or any real sense of the passage of time, tit could feel claustrophobic and dense. The candles and torches the endless room used for light threw long shadows and at times, there was something lonely about the place. On occasion, though, when (Y/n) and Draco spent afternoons amongst the clutter and set candles near them, the room could feel cozy - maybe even warm.

The two had been working quietly for a half hour or so when (Y/n) felt the itch to ask a question. As always, they pondered letting it pass, but their curiosity got the better of them. They set their quill down and turned to look at the boy across from them. “Tell me something about Draco Malfoy that no one else knows."

Draco, used to questions by now and in a better mood than most days, didn’t bother to look up, but responded, anyway. “Why?”

“You learned a few secrets of mine when you skimmed my spell creation book. It’s only fair that I get to use something against you.”

“You know about this place.”

(Y/n) looked at him unimpressed, but still, Draco didn’t raise his head. They sighed. “Give me something more than that. Technically, this is my secret, too.”

Draco rolled his eyes, but his quill stopped scratching, and he closed the textbook before him. “Like what?”

“Like…” (Y/n) shrugged as Draco watched them, his grey eyes lighter than usual, less filled with the weight of all things. “Alright, I’m allergic to pumpkin, but I wanted to try pumpkin juice so badly in our first year that I had to go to the infirmary on the first day of school—” (Y/n) was smiling at the memory, and it was the first bit of happiness they had allowed themself to have for a while. “—it was nothing too bad, and Madam Pomfrey was quick to fix me up, but I couldn’t taste for the next week. A real shame, too, seeing as the first few feasts are always the best.”

Draco’s lips were pressed into a thin line, only the very edges curling upwards, so slightly anyone else would have missed it. A genuine smile. (Y/n) was proud of themself for having coaxed it out of him. Funny, how much they had started to care.

“Something idiotic, then?” and the lilt to his voice was almost amused.

(Y/n) rolled their eyes. “You have to have something.”

Draco thought for a moment and (Y/n) watched him as he tried to pull a memory. They noted how much younger he looked, here, in a light dim enough to be considered conspiratorial, but bright enough to be distinct from the rest of their existence. It was almost as though they belonged here, two more lost things in a sea of used belongings.

“I tried to grow out my hair like my father’s in the summer before our first year.” Draco’s voice was soft in reminiscing, but it grew louder with fondness. “A cousin told me I looked like a girl and I cut it off that same night. My mother fixed it for me in the morning, right before we went to Diagon Alley.”

(Y/n) let out the ghost of a chuckle, but when Draco joined them, their laugher grew, echoing through the endless room.

xii.

“So... tell me, is Slytherin gossip really just made up of lies, or are you actually hanging out with Draco Malfoy? Is that where you’ve been sneaking off to?”

Michael and (Y/n) walked side by side, catching up for the first time all week. They had been heading to lunch when Michael realized he left his quill and ink in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, so the two decided to take the walk back together. Somehow, their conversation landed on gossip around the school, and of course, Michael had to bring up Draco.

(Y/n), used to dodging questions by now, simply rolled their eyes. “I don’t know, did you actually join a secret army last year and not tell me about it?”

“I already told you that Harry himself didn’t want any Slytherin’s involved. How was I expected to go against the Boy Who Lived?” Michael defended himself poorly but passionately, pushing his dark hair out of his face. Suddenly, his narrowed. “But yes, I did. So does that mean you’re admitting to hanging out with the Slytherin Prince?”

“If it makes you feel any better, it’s only because we’re partners in Potions and Alchemy. Slughorn has this weird thing about classroom symmetry.”

Michael chuckled at (Y/n)’s annoyance, but continued pressing in the way that only a Ravenclaw could successfully pull off. “Then do you know what’s wrong with him? There are bets going around, and I just put down 8 Sickles on him having some rare illness that Pomfrey doesn’t know how to heal.”

“Is him being a werewolf one of the theories?”

“It was, actually,” (Y/n) snorted and Michael turned around to face them, walking backwards down the hall, “But after Padma saw him in Alchemy class during the full moon, the idea was thrown out. Seamus Finnigan lost a Galleon or two.”

“Any other ingenious ideas?”

Michael opened his mouth to speak, but was bumped into abruptly by Harry Potter, walking the other way with a bewildered and shocked expression. He reeled backward and Michael apologized, but all Harry did was nod absentmindedly before continuing down the corridor, walking quickly as though trying to create some sort of distance.

“Weird.” Michael huffed, watching Potter as he retreated. The two friends shared a confused glance before continuing down the hall, and after a few steps, (Y/n) slipped on something slick.

The floors were wet with Harry Potter’s trailing footprints. (Y/n) looked at Michael and they both had the same, strange urge.

Follow them.

The two set off down the hall, neither speaking a word as they followed the trail. No one else was in the corridor but them, and the sound of rushing water filled the corridor as they got ever nearer. The footsteps led to the boys bathroom, which must have busted a pipe or two, judging by the flooding. Inside, someone was muttering a healing incantation, their voice echoing with a concentrated sort of aggression. Michael looked at (Y/n) questioningly before stepping inside, calling out.

“Hey, is everything alright in here?”

The bathroom was a disaster, but in the middle of the floor was Draco Malfoy, still and lying in a pool of his own crimson blood. Professor Snape was crouched over him, trying in vain to stop the bleeding as it drenched his shirt and dissipated into the water around him. (Y/n) stood rooted to the spot, their breath coming in short and their heart pounding their chest. They couldn’t take their eyes off of him, life ebbing away from him, the only indication that he was still alive being his laboured gasps.

They wouldn’t sustain him for long.

“Get. Out.” Snape looked at the two with a ferocity and Michael turned to leave, tugging on (Y/n)’s arm with an expression that was seemingly everything at once - pouring forth from busted pipes, flowing down the corridors...

For a moment, (Y/n) didn’t feel in control of their own limbs. Michael called their name, an urgency lacing his tone, and (Y/n) blinked. Once, twice, three times. The world came into focus. They shook their head. 

“Go,” they whispered, and it only took a precisely aimed stare to get Michael to disappear.

Snapped out of their daze, (Y/n) rushed forward, kneeling beside Draco and ignoring the professors command to leave. Their hands shook as the pulled their wand out from their newly soaked bag, but they uttered a healing spell under their breath - something they had created in their fourth year - praying to Merlin that Draco would live.

Snape stared at them for a sharp moment, with a look that seemed to be knowing and confused at the same time.

Together, the blood that they were kneeling in made its way back into Draco’s body, but the wound - a deep gash on his abdomen - still wouldn’t close. When Snape said he needed to take Draco to the Hospital Wing, (Y/n)’s clothes were drenched and their face was damp with tears they hadn’t realized they wept.

(Y/n) trailed after the professor, not caring they were missing class, their mind still hyper focused on Drac’s survival. They had never seen so much blood outside the body. And with him lying on the flooded floor... how much had escaped him? He would have bleed out, had noone arrived sooner...

Madam Pomfrey didn’t allow (Y/n) to hover while she worked, so the Slytherin sat outside the heavy doors, still dripping with water but not caring as they tried to calm their breathing. They would be waiting outside when Pomfrey finally allowed visitors, and when they Draco again, they couldn’t afford to let their fear show so plainly.

Slowly, their body returned to something fit for survival - worried but functional. Their heart rate was erratic, and their jaw no longer trembled. (Y/n) dried themselves off and waited, sliding down the wall until they sat with their back pressed against it.

They wouldn’t leave until they knew Draco was okay. They couldn’t leave him.

Not like this.

Snape was allowed to wait inside, possibly helping the Healer, and two agonizing hours later, the doors opened and the professor stepped out. His robes swished about him and despite everything, he still carried his usual composed confidence. The Slytherin Head of House turned and fixed (Y/n) with a stare that left them feeling vulnerable - as though any secret they ever had had just been told, without uttering a word. For a brief moment, (Y/n) wondered if professor Snape was a legilimens, or if they were just shaken, still.

But then another thought crossed their mind. ‘Did it matter?’

“You can go in.”

(Y/n) was inside the infirmary before Snape had time to turn away.

The Hospital Wing was silent, and their hurried steps echoed in a way that made their heart beat louder their chest. Madam Pomfrey didn’t look surprised to see them, just apologetic. “He’s unconscious for now. It should wear off in 20 minutes or so. He’ll be fine.” She pointed to a nearby chair and (Y/n) pulled it up, sitting at Draco’s side and eyeing him closely.

After seven months of spending nearly every waking moment together, (Y/n) knew Draco Malfoy better than anyone else. They knew all that he had once been and all he became.

(Y/n) knew the toll that his secrets took,  and how unrelenting they were as they tore at everything Draco was. Harry must’ve known, too. He must have sensed it - maybe all those months ago, when he looked at him in Potions as though ready to duel. But to nearly kill Draco?

(Y/n) didn’t know what had happened - or just who Harry Potter was. But they couldn’t believe something like was intentional.

(Y/n) had to believe Harry didn’t know what he did.

This war made monsters of them all, but did the best of them have to succumb to its dangers? Did everyone in this world have to get twisted and suffer so? They were all innocents, and yet they slaughtered each other like enemies. Did none of them shed tears?

There were many more terrors to come, and (Y/n) had to believe that Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, would be strong enough and kind enough to forgive them. Sometimes this world leaves you without a choice; sometimes it leaves children to nothing but ruins. (Y/n) was just a child, and they didn’t know who to save or even how to do so.

But they did know a few things. A simple, handful of facts that would have to be enough to get them through.

Across the room, Madam Pomfrey took her leave, wandering to the back office where she kept many of her potions.

Despite everything, Draco looked peaceful as he slept - something (Y/n) had never seen, despite the two dozing off plenty of times while working together. He was always in turmoil, no matter his conscious state. So to see him so still was unnerving; it was almost as though he had finally given up.

(Y/n) noticed the sleeves of his shirt had ridden up, and before they could reach out to fix them for him, they noticed the end of a curling tattoo on his inner, left arm. They stared at it for a moment, the curling end of a snake, sitting inside of a skull. (Y/n) considered it, expecting fear to grip their heart but feeling something like sympathy, instead.

They already knew, deep down, what was branded there. They had known for a while. It wasn’t a revelation, and part of them didn’t want to reach out and expose the rest of the tattoo. Did they need to confirm it, now? It was silly, the idea that seeing it would make it more real.

They saw it every day in the way in hands shook, or in the anger in his eyes. They didn’t need to see a tattoo to know what Draco Malfoy had been branded. Sometimes, (Y/n) believed that the ink on his skin didn’t make him different, at all.

How quickly they had grown to trust him. And yet, how quickly he revealed himself, when the two of them were the only souls still awake and bleeding.

(Y/n) pushed the rest of the sleeve down, covering the exposed skin. A cold hand grabbed their own.

Draco stared at them, grey eyes alert and panicked. For a moment, he didn’t seem to breathe. (Y/n) pulled away and his grip went slack, his expression still torn and frozen in place, the only difference being the tears that were welling in his eyes.

“It’s alright, Draco.” He was running from a catastrophe, these days. He seemed to live in the fallout of terrible revelations. A younger Draco wouldn’t recognize him, if he could see himself, now. “I already knew.” Draco tried to scoff, but it came out a sob. Did it somehow hurt worse, the admission of knowledge rather than a sudden reveal? Did it paint him, to realize he had been known all along?(Y/n) tried to offer a smile, but it didn’t quite meet their eyes. “You’re not the only one who’s observant.”

“Why are you helping me, then?” His voice was hoarse and unsure.

Why, indeed?

“You and your whole family will die.” Tears pricked at (Y/n)’s eyes, though whether they were of frustration or sadness, they did not know. Perhaps it was both.

“Others will die because of us,” Draco breathed the words, as though he didn’t want to admit it to even himself.

“They’d find a way inside Hogwarts somehow - nowhere’s safe. But… but if we do it this way… maybe more can be spared.”

“Everyone will die,” Draco shook his head, every emotion he had ever felt spilling over, seeping out of him like all of that blood collecting on the bathroom floor. He has been holding it in for months, and now he was letting go all of it go, bursting forth until he had nothing left. “You don’t know them like I do, we — we’re all dead.”

“Not yet,” (Y/n) wiped at their cheeks furiously, resolve making their voice strong. “We can still save most of us. It’s Dumbledore they want, isn’t it?”

Draco let out another choking sob.

“Why don’t we just tell him?”

“Don’t you see?” Draco was shaking with emotion, his face red and streaked with tears. His every word was punctuated, trembling with a mixture of anger and sadness and fear. No matter where he went, there was so much fear. “I’m the villain in their story.”

(Y/n) took in a shaky breath and put their hands in his. They were still crying, but it wasn’t for themself. “You’re not a villain, Draco. You’re just a boy,” they whispered, but the sound of it seemed to echo around them. “And we’re a brotherhood, right? So I’m here for you. Even if it is just us.”

And they cried together, two voices who’s echoes sounded like one.

xiii.

“Harmonia Nectere Passus.”

This time, the songbird lived. It sang through the thick wood of the cabinet, it’s lonely tune bright, as though it knew spring was upon them - as though it knew nothing of the impending frost, and the death that was sure to follow. Draco and (Y/n) didn’t need to open the door to know that it worked. But they did, and the tiny, white body ruffled its feathers before flying into the sky, chirping happily as it circled the towers of lost things, alone, the last living thing inside the room.

Draco stepped back from the Cabinet, his entire being trembling. It wasn’t until (Y/n) reached out to still him that they realized they were shaking, too.

They both knew it, but neither felt they had the courage to say it.

“This is the end.” (Y/n) forgot to clear their throat.

“Of Dumbledore.” Draco turned to them, all of his life in his hands, all of his regrets on his face. His voice was thick and his eyes were dull. “But not the war. Potter may still win. Somehow… if he survives.”

Both of them knew this world wasn’t kind to survivors.

But (Y/n) held his gaze. “Will we?”

xiv.

maybe one day they will find me                                                                                 under all of this rubble.

-- taglist: @musicallisto​, @theletterhart​, @locke-writes​, @randomfandomimagine​, @brokenandheadoverheels​, @timeofmadness​, @writerdream22​, @lotsoffandomrecs​, @neelia-thedaughtherof-athena​ // message me if you want to be added!

[terrainofheartfelt]

"It's you, it couldn't be awful"

A Playlist For Dair Appreciation Week, Day 7 - Fave Quotes & Lyrics

I haven’t the faintest idea how to make gifs (seriously I think all of you are witches) so I made this playlist, because there is nothing I love more than scrolling through my spotify library and just projecting all over it.

Track listings and links with opinions & lyrics under the cut, because this thing is long, because I have no restraint.

(Note: I intentionally left off all tswift bc if I didn’t, we’d be here all day)

Section 1: The Bops

Little of Your Love - HAIM

A bop that embodies the energy of the 4b arc, and an energy of “Oh for crying out loud, Humphrey”

You’re just another recovering heart / I wasn’t even gonna try / you wouldn’t even give the time

Stop runnin’ your mouth like that / ‘cause you know I’m gonna give it right back

Hate That You Know Me - Bleachers

It’s “You owe me ten / You owe me twenty!” & “I was hoping it would go away / I was humiliated” & basically all of While You Weren’t Sleeping, tbh

Some days I, I wish that I wasn't myself / No luck! / And I hate that you know me so well

I Like Me Better - Lauv

Heavily featured in all y’all’s gifsets—and rightfully so!!! It’s also like the perfect counter to the previous song.

To not know who I am but still know that I'm good long as you're here with me

Sweet Talk - Saint Motel

It’s about Blair roasting Dan for filth and him being completely charmed by it.

when you laugh / I forget that it's about me / But it's alright / Yeah, cause being your punchline / Still is something

No Reason to Run - Cold War Kids

In the perfect version of the show that lives in my head, this is the end credits song that plays as the two of them frolic in Rome.

I have evolved like a fish growing legs / Woke like a lightbulb clicked in my brain

You Make Lovin' Fun - Fleetwood Mac

The song for the couple that fucked in an elevator. Bless the work.

Sweet wonderful you / You make me happy with the things you do

No Matter What You Do - covered by Jakob Dylan and Regina Spektor

The energy is “I have a lot of affection for you but you are so annoying.” And this is the obligatory post-breakup s6 song.

No matter what in the world you do / Hey, I'll always be in love with you

Don't Take the Money - Bleachers

I see so much love for tswift on this website (valid) but I feel like the world as a whole sleeps on her collaborator Jack Antonoff bc he is brilliant and his act Bleachers has some of my favorite songs ever. Like this one. Antonoff has said before that the title phrase is more metaphorical than literal, like an idiom that means don’t take the easy way and give this up, because it’s genuine. Real “I want to have a sleepover with you” vibes.

Somebody broke me once / Love was a currency / A shimmering balance act / I think that I laughed at that

In the Morning - Nina Simone

It’s about the domesticity! And the “Our relationship is our world”! And the “we’re young and still have so much life to live so everything’s gonna be okay.” did i title a smut fic with lyrics from this song maybeso.gif

Please be patient with your life / It's only morning and you're still to live your day

This Must Be the Place - Talking Heads

This is a canon dair song bc @mysteriesofloves titled a fic after this song, them’s the rules. But for real, this is such a good one. The lyrics are intentionally scattered, a little bewildered, like “how did we get here? how did this happen? who found whom?” and finally “who cares? we found a home in each other.”

The less we say about it, the better / We'll make it up as we go along

Cleopatra in Brooklyn - Frank Turner

Chosen for the title obviously, but the lyrics capture the royal/5b arc pretty well, I think. The narrator carries this tongue-and-cheek comparison of the woman he’s singing to to Cleopatra through the whole song, comparing himself to Marc Antony, and ending with this really earnest kind of declaration. I’m obsessed with this songwriter he’s a genius please give him a listen.

These people are adjectives to your proper noun

I'll come find you when your fortunes fail you / I'll die with you when the gods desert you

Morphing into Section 2: Pure Vibes

Walking on a Dream - covered by Andrew McMahon in the Wilderness

The original is by Empire of the Sun (and omigod I just realized the coincidence), but I first heard it covered by McMahon, and he’s one of my favorite musicians of ever so I just love his rendition. And this song is sort of like...about finally deciding that the reality of love with someone is so much better than the idea of it.

Thought I’d never see / The love you found in me / Now it’s changing all the time

Wake Me - Bleachers

Jack coming for my life yet again. This song is so romantic but also so melancholy? Which is such a Daniel Humphrey Vibe.

And I'd rather be sad with you / Than anywhere away from you

All I Want - Joni Mitchell

I’m a white girl with a mother who grew up in the 60s, so I love Joni. And this song is so bubbly and joyful, but it’s also about a relationship between two imperfect people and wanting it to work anyway. Big “Despicable B” vibes!

All I really want our love to do / Is to bring out the best in me / And in you, too.

Dust to Dust - The Civil Wars

A friend in undergrad got me into the Civil Wars by showing me their live videos, and they have such incredible musical chemistry - like, the synchronicity of their ensemble is so good that it even comes through on their studio recordings and it makes these simple lyrics hit SO HARD.

You're just lonely / You've been lonely too long

NFWMB - Hozier

Ok, this had to be like the first ask I ever sent @bisexualdanhumphrey bc they wrote this fantastic meta post about Hozier and Derena but I said: “consider: NFWMB is a Dair song.” And they said, “You right.” I stand by it, and that’s why this song is on this list.

If I was born as a blackthorn tree / I'd wanna be felled by you / Held by you / Fuel the pyre of your enemies

Friday I'm in Love - covered by Phoebe Bridgers

This song - especially this cover - gives such Secret Friendship Arc vibes a la the end of 4x16...the inherent romance of eating pizza and falling asleep on the couch together

Always take a big bite / It’s such a gorgeous sight / To see you eat in the middle of the night

A Case of You - Joni Mitchell

Queen Joni again. Like! I am a lonely painter / I live in a box of paints. & The “You’re the star of Dan’s book” of it all in these lyrics!

I remember that time you told me / You said “Love is touching souls” / Surely you touched mine / ‘cause part of you pours out of me / In these lines from time to time.

Longing to Belong - Eddie Vedder

This is my thinly veiled attempt to tell more people about this: a song written and performed by Pearl Jam’s Eddie Vedder on ukulele, that is actually the softest love song in the history of western music.

All my time is spent here / Longing to belong to you

Bones - Josh Record

Okay, so, that Moment on the Couch at the end of 5x02? That’s this song.

And darling, when your feet are cold / Wait up, I'm coming home / And all of you I will hold / My love will clothe your bones

Cinnamon Girl - Lana Del Rey

The song for when you reach the end of plausible deniability - One all consuming paralyzing thought & You need to go back to Brooklyn - and it scares the heck out of you.

There's things I wanna say to you, but I'll just let you live / Like if you hold me without hurting me / You'll be the first who ever did

You and Me - You + Me

You can be flawed enough but perfect for a person

Section 3: Songs for Dancing in the Kitchen with Your Lover at 1 am

Cigarettes and Coffee - Otis Redding

The “Dan and I have a real connection song.” It’s about the romance of commonplace things when they’re with the right person.

But it seemed so natural, darling / That you and I are here

I'd Be Waiting - Nathaniel Rateliff and the Night Sweats

It’s “I just want to spend the day with you” but in like, slow-dance, sexy harmonies format.

If you ever get lonely if you never did

Never My Love - covered by Jakob Dylan and Norah Jones

The “Words of Affirmation” love song they deserve, and an underrated love song from Laurel Canyon, imho

What makes you think love will end? / When you know that my whole life depends / On you

Dancing in the Dark - covered by Morgan James

Okay so these lyrics are such Dan lyrics to me, it’s charmingly self-aware and self-deprecating. And this cover by Morgan James turns this staple rock song into something ~sexy~

I'm dying for some action / I'm sick of sittin' round here trying to write this book / I need a love reaction / Come on, gimme just one look

Oh Me Oh My (I'm a Fool for You) - Aretha Franklin

They’re literally always making each other laugh! It’s about feeling safe enough to be uninhibited and unselfconscious in your joy.

To make you laugh / I would be a fool for you

I Fall in Love Too Easily - as done by Chet Baker

No one, but no one sounds as sweet or as smooth as Chet. I know it, you know it, Hozier knows it. And this song and it’s titular thesis is so Them, it’s such a central part of their respective characters, and one of the things that makes them compatible.

My heart should be well schooled / 'Cause I've been fooled in the past

For Me Formidable - Charles Aznavour

Due entirely to this fic (Part II of a god tier s4 au) This is the end credits song for their full feature length Nora Ephron romcom.

NSFW Honorable Mention: Dinner & Diatribes - Hozier

it’s the definitive “men get pegged” representation, iykyk

[smokeybrand]

Smokey brand Movie Reviews: Free City or Liquid Suffering

Free Guy is an exceptional movie and you should go watch it right now. It’s worth every penny. I wanted to get that out there up front. That’s the review. The rest of this thing is going to be me just gushing about why i think it’s one of the best films of the year. If you’re curious as to why i loved it so much, read on. But you don’t have to if you don’t want because I'm telling you, right here, right now, up front, Free Guy is totally worth everything. Its exceptional. Go f*cking watch it right now! Also, just to clarify, the title of this love letter to Free Guy has a double meaning. Free City is the name of the world in which the movie takes place but it's also the name of a pretty dope St. Lunatics album. Batter Up!

The Outstanding

I have to say, the execution of this idea was fantastic! You’ve seen this the of movie before in films like the new Jumanji joints and Ready Player One, but you’ve never seen them executed like this. I was thoroughly surprised by how entertaining, how original, the Isekai Video Game Experience was presented. F*cking outstanding!

With that in mind, credit has to be given to the director of this spectacle, Shawn Levy. He has a strong vision because this f*cking thing definitely passes the eye test as a video game. It Feels like walking into the world of Saint’s Row III, the only thing missing being giant dildo swords.

I also have to mention how brisk this thing moves. There is next to no fat on this plot an it gets you to where you need to be with purpose. I appreciate that, not because i don’t like a slow burn, atmospheric, feat for the eyes but because that type of film making wouldn’t work with this type of film. It’s long, don’t misunderstand, but it never Feels long. I never needed to pause it and take a break or try over and over to start it. It’s a solid watch that, by the end credits, will have you absolutely enveloped with the pathos onscreen.

One of the stronger aspects of this thing was the cameos. A lot of the recognizable people, like Channing Tatum and Chris Evans came through and did their thing, for sure, but a lot of the streamers made an impression, too. Color me surprised when i is aw Pokimane and Ninja. Now, I'm old as sh*t so i only have a cursory knowledge of who these people are but for Gen Z and the Alphas? I imagine they were stupid excited seeing their versions of celebrities up on the being screen like that.

Speaking of cast, i just want to give a nod to Lil Rel Howery and Utkarsh Ambudkar as Buddy and Mouser, respectively. They were great as the supportive third string partners. I was particularly surprised by Lil Rel because i generally can’t stand him in stuff but he never overstayed his welcome in this. Well done.

Ryan Reynolds is Ryan Reynolds. You know what you’re going to get in a starring vehicle for dude. Mileage may vary but I'm a fan of the motor-mouth, super quippy, schtick. My favorite superhero is Spider-man so of course i am. That said, his Guy is very earnest and likable. Even when he’s moving down player after player, he’s still just that Blue Shirt Guy. It’s real hard not to like him.

For me, the stand out of this flick was Jodie Comer. I love this chick. I was put on to her way back when i stumbled upon Killing Eve an have been absolutely enamored ever since. Her Millie the Molotov Girl is a fantastic character and she is great in the role. It’s so different from what I've seen her in and it’s testament to he skill. I’m glad she’s getting bigger roles and can’t wait to see what she does in Thor IV. I’m actually curious who she’ll be since we already got a version of the Enchantress in Sylvie. Plus, i just really like hearing Jodie’s speaking voice. It’s cute.

What can i say about Taika Waititi other than he’s Taika Waititi? Dude is doing Hitler from Jojo Rabbit but as video game company CEO named Antwan and it absolutely works. Antwan’s not even villainous, he’s just a petulant, corporate, shill, obsessed with profits. So, basically, EA but, you know, a person. Which is kind of genius because if you ask any gamer, they’ll tell you the final boss is definitely companies lie EA, Activision, and Take Two. F*ck those guys and f*ck Antwan!

I’m more than on record of loving everything Joe Keery does. From my initial introduction n the excellent first season of Stranger things, his amazing growth in the second, and becoming the best f*cking thing about the show by the third. I loved him in Molly’ Game and was shocked by his range in Spree. I can’t say he flexes his acting chops so much in this as the unrequited love interest, Keys, but he’s still fun to see.

I think the best thing about this film, though, is how much genuine heart it has. This movie is chock full of emotional nuance. I was surprised by how much i cared about the characters by the time this thing ended and all credit to that has to go to the writing. In order for these performances to present such complete relationship arcs, that sh*t on the age had to be on point and believe me, it was. Hats off to Matt Lieberman and Zack Penn. Those two mad lads delivered something really special.

The Verdict

I already said it up front. Free Guy is fantastic. It’s loaded up with great performances. Rich characters, a wonderfully world, and striking visuals. This thing Feels like a video game and movies that try to do that rarely pull it off. Like, Ready Player One does a great job articulating that same Feeling but it’s not something that is so easily capture. Free Guy does it better than that one, better than Spielberg. While all of that sh*t i said makes this thing more than worth the price of admission but, for me, it’s the overall writing that gives the movie legs. It’s incredibly well written and smarter than you’ think based on such a pedestrian premise. I’m really enjoyed my time in Free City and I'm glad it got made. Fox was playing with house money when Ryan Reynolds dropped this into their laps. They basically gave him a budget and told him to create because why not? Sh*t would be Disney's problem after the merger, right? Well, surprise-surprise, free of corporate meddling and financial projection, Free Guy turned out to be an amazing, entertaining, original, IP that everyone should support.

[grantairelibere]

Hi. Okay. So. Your fic. May I give some feedback? I’ve never properly done this before, please bear with me. :D

I kind of took notes as I read it, so this will be in somewhat chronological order and also include SPOILERS. EVERYONE GO READ THE FIC, NOT MY ASK. (it’s also totally cool if you don’t publish this because of the spoilers)

“soup of pasta” is a stroke of genius, and it was the first thing that made me laugh. you really capture that “not quite adapted to the modern world, but also not completely foreign to it”-feeling, not only on this occasion, but it’s a great example.

Courfeyrac being totally prepared to make his speech more gender-inclusive, but refusing to change “mistress” to “girlfriend” is another great character moment that i loved!

I’m obsessed with the concept of un-undead people? I’ve never encountered it before and it was such a cool spin on ghost/reincarnation stories!

Quick shoutout to Jehan’s “listen, everyone crushes on courfeyrac, it’s fine” moment.

Maybe it was just a joke, but Courfeyrac mentioning Enjolras being inspired by a blank page with the word “liberty” written on it stood out to me. It reminded me of Sophie Scholl, who was part of a german group protesting the nazi government. When she was arrested, she wrote the word “Freiheit” (german for liberty) on the back of her bill of indictment. Before she was executed, she said that she would accept her death, if it meant people would rise up in response. But they didn’t. She died in 1943, and there were no protests, the war and the atrocities of the regime continued and people continued to support it. In connection with the story of the June Rebellion and Enjolras part in your fic, that struck me as a particularly tragic parallel.

On a lighter note: Grantaire probably clipped through the non-ceiling when he came back, right?

Enjolras, wistful: I haven’t seen this place in a long time…

The Corinthe: *loud thud*

All in all, it’s a fantastic fic! There’s so many things I didn’t mention, but this is already very long! The development of the relationship was so well done, and I loved Marius growth!! It’s just such a beautiful piece, I love it very much.

-favtine

Oh my god thank you so much for this, I now owe you a life debt for such in-depth feedback, I really cannot express my gratitude in a way that makes sense

-"soup of pasta" came from me stopping in the middle of writing and going 'If I was from 1832. And I have just seen instant noodles for the first time. What on earth would I think it is??' and then I went down a rabbit hole trying to research the history of pasta

-Thank you! I feel like Courfeyrac would just hate the sound of the word 'girlfriend', not entirely sure why.

-Ahh, I'm glad you liked the concept!! I have always loved ghost stories and ghost/human romances, and I wanted to write one with a happy ending that didn't involve the human party dying. There's this YA series called The Mediator which does it (in a totally different way, though) that I read as a kid, and I'm pretty sure that highkey influenced it

-Jehan is right.

-Oh my god? I need to go read up about her immediately, she sounds amazing. That was an entirely unintentional parallel but I'm so glad to know about it, thank you!

-Re: Grantaire, I'm laughing, that's literally exactly how I pictured it. Enjolras walks by and suddenly It's Raining Man (Hallelujah)

-Again thank you so much!! I'm so honoured you read it and enjoyed it and took the time to write all this, it is truly soup of pasta for my soul. <3 <3 <3

[mediaevalmusereads]

Strange the Dreamer. By Laini Taylor. New York: Little, Brown Books, 2017.

Rating: 4/5 stars

Genre: YA fantasy

Part of a Series? Yes, Strange the Dreamer #1

Summary: The dream chooses the dreamer, not the other way around— and Lazlo Strange, war orphan and junior librarian, has always feared that his dream chose poorly. Since he was five years old he’s been obsessed with the mythic lost city of Weep, but it would take someone bolder than he to cross half the world in search of it. Then a stunning opportunity presents itself, in the person of a hero called the Godslayer and a band of legendary warriors, and he has to seize his chance or lose his dream forever. What happened in Weep two hundred years ago to cut it off from the rest of the world? What exactly did the Godslayer slay that went by the name of god? And what is the mysterious problem he now seeks help in solving? The answers await in Weep, but so do more mysteries—including the blue-skinned goddess who appears in Lazlo’s dreams. How did he dream her before he knew she existed? And if all the gods are dead, why does she seem so real?

***Full review under the cut.***

Content Warnings: blood, violence, drug use, rape, sexual slavery, abduction and imprisonment

Overview: I really enjoyed Laini Taylor’s Daughter of Smoke and Bone trilogy, so I decided to give her new work a go. Overall, I also really enjoyed Strange the Dreamer because it had a lot of things that are characteristic of Taylor’s writing that I love - lush, lyrical prose; tragic, star-crossed love; a political conflict involving otherworldly creatures. The reason why I’m giving this book 4 instead of 5 stars mainly has to do with the pacing and the way events played out. There wasn’t anything wrong, I think, with the way Taylor handled her story - it’s just that I felt like things started to rush to a close too quickly, and I would have liked to spend more time in the book exploring character emotions.

Writing: Taylor’s prose tends to fall into two categories: lyrical and descriptive or straight-forward and economical. Part 1 of this book is more lyrical; the metaphors are more fantastical and the prose evokes a sense of longing and fascination. Taylor really captures the feeling of being immersed in a library, surrounded by stories, as well as what it’s like to have a dream (not a dream in your sleep - more like a goal or a wish that has a small or nonexistence likelihood of coming true). Part 1 was probably my favorite part of the book for this reason, as subsequent sections tended to lose that lyrical quality and fall into a style more typical of YA books.

Taylor’s pace is also fairly well-done in that I didn’t feel like I was being rushed or that I was plodding through the book. The only thing I would change in terms of pacing is the book’s ending; I felt a lot of things were dropped on the reader all at once, and though they were foreshadowed earlier in the book (which I very much appreciated), I tend not to like endings where too much happens.

Before I close this section, a couple of notes on descriptions and worldbuilding: though I know teenagers have sexual urges, I was a little put off by the descriptions of teenagers’ bodies in certain places. I can remember a few instances where Taylor describes the look of one character’s breasts, and though it wasn’t gratuitous, I didn’t like that these descriptions were included. I also thought the worldbuilding detail of “women get tattoos on their bellies as a rite of passage/coming of age marker when they become fertile and Sarai longs for one of her own” was a little uncomfortable. It made me feel like the world Taylor built was concerned with showcasing female reproductive capacity, and that just seems exclusionary. While it could have worked if the story was more about pushing back against reproductive regulation or exploring what such tattoos would mean for trans characters, as the book stands, that doesn’t really happen, so it was a weird detail that I felt distracted from the main themes.

Plot: This book primarily follows Lazlo Strange - an orphan who dreams of finding the lost city of Weep - and Sarai - the daughter of a dead god and a human who must hide her existence in order to stay alive. Lazlo is surprised one day when some inhabitants of Weep - led by someone called “the Godslayer” - show up in his library, asking for assistance from the land’s greatest scientists. Though Lazlo isn’t a scientist, he is the most knowledgeable person about Weep and its culture, so the Godslayer elects to take him along. Meanwhile, Sarai and several other demigods live in a secluded Sanctuary, hiding from the inhabitants of Weep so that they won’t be slain on account of their parentage.

Without spoiling anything (which is kind of hard, since there is a lot that happens), I will say that I really liked the central conflict of this book. Taylor does a good job of setting up a problem with no black-and-white solutions; it seems like everyone had a legitimate reason for acting the way they do, and no matter what happens, someone will be hurt.

But perhaps the thing I appreciated most about the plot was that Taylor never sets up a surprise twist that comes out of nowhere. I feel like I’ve read a lot of YA books that drop a bomb on the reader with no set up, and I personally feel like such twists make the story feel less cohesive. Taylor sets up all her reveals and twists by dropping hints early and frequently, and rather than make the story feel dull, I felt like they made the end emotionally fulfilling.

If I had one criticism of the plot it would be that the romance doesn’t feel genuine. Lazlo and Sarai seem to fall in love with each other too quickly, which made it seem like they got together because they just hadn’t had opportunities to meet other people. I didn’t see what they saw in each other aside from looks and special qualities like “oh, he’s able to share my dreams” or “she was kind to me when so many other people weren’t.” I wanted more out the romance, like Sarai falling for Lazlo’s kindness and Lazlo falling for Sarai’s compassion towards those who would harm her. Maybe there was some of that, but it was definitely overshadowed by lengthy descriptions of kissing, which I wasn’t much a fan of. I also wasn’t really a fan of the “dates” that they went on; some parts were cute, but overall, they dragged.

Characters: Lazlo, one of our protagonists, is likeable in that he’s pretty much the embodiment of a lot of book nerds. He starts off shy, completely absorbed with fairy tales and folklore, and loves to roam the abandoned stacks in his library. What I liked most about him, though, was his willingness to help people even if they treat him poorly. For example, there’s a character named Theryn Nero who is basically a Science Bro. He’s rich, beloved by everyone, and gets famous for cracking the secret of alchemy. While he puts himself up as the lone genius, he was actually aided by Lazlo and takes sole credit for a lot of things that Lazlo proved to be key in discovering. Lazlo, though annoyed, never lets his feelings get in the way of helping Nero when the greater good is at stake, and I really admired that.

If I had any criticisms of Lazlo, it would be that I wish his “dreamer” status or knowledge base was put to better use. After Lazlo gets to Weep, he isn’t quite as interesting as he was before, probably because he no longer needs to use his vast knowledge of stories to make his way through the world.

Sarai, our other protagonist, is fairly sympathetic in that all her problems feel undeserved. She is forced to stay locked away in a hidden Sanctuary in order to protect herself and her little found family (composed of other demigods), and though it’s for the best, it also feels stifling. I really liked that Sarai was not single-mindedly fixated on revenge for the things that happened in her past. Without spoiling anything, I will say that something happened which put the demigods and inhabitants of Weep in conflict with one another, and there is no easy solution that would guarantee that the demigods stay alive. Sarai has a lot of dreams like Lazlo - of finding family, of living a normal life, of living among the humans - but it’s not really viable for her, and instead of letting hate consume her, she tries to think up other ways of existing.

Sarai’s “family” is also charming. The group consists of 5 demigods who are the last remaining offspring of the slain gods, and all of them feel fairly complex. They all possess some kind of magical “gift”: there’s Sarai (who can produce supernatural “moths” that allow her to enter people’s dreams), Ruby (a girl who can turn herself into flames), Feral (the only boy, and he can summon clouds), Sparrow (a girl who can manipulate plants), and Minya (a girl who can make ghosts do her bidding). I liked that these characters had different personalities that often put them in conflict. Ruby is boy-crazy and seems to be obsessed with sex. Sparrow is more passive but has sweet moments where she makes a “flower cake” for Ruby’s birthday and braids Sarai’s hair. Minya is completely consumed by her desire for revenge, and it presents some real barriers to finding a solution to the group’s problems.

The supporting characters down in Weep are also fairly compelling. The Godslayer is sympathetic in that he doesn’t revel in his heroic image or title; instead, he feels complex and seemingly warring emotions tied to guilt over what happened to Weep and his role in it almost 20 years prior to the events of this book. The Godslayer’s companions are also sympathetic and have emotions that are easy to understand, and I loved that they seemed to take to Lazlo so quickly. They welcome all outsiders with open arms, but they have a soft spot for Lazlo, which I liked because it meant that he didn’t have to face bullying or gatekeeping from people he had longed to meet his entire life.

The inhabitants of the world outside of Weep were interesting. There’s Theryn Nero, who seemed like he would be a primary antagonist but doesn’t have enough “screen time” to truly be a threat. I liked that his conflict with Lazlo was low-key - it was intense enough to be annoying, but no so intense that their rivalry consumed the whole story or put petty emotions above the greater good. The other “scientists” who follow the Godslayer back to Weep served their purpose; not all of them had rich, complex lives, but they didn’t really need to because if they did, the story would feel crowded.

Overall, there weren’t any characters I disliked, per se. While I do wish Lazlo got to develop differently, there wasn’t much wrong with his character, and I think all of the main players had interesting backstories and motivations, and I appreciated the layer of complexity they all had. I do wish there had been more queer characters though. There is one wlw couple, though they aren’t too prominent in the grand scheme of things. Of course, that could change, as there is a whole second book to go through, but I wish some of the demigods had been lgbt+ so it felt like Taylor’s world wasn’t overwhelmingly straight and cis.

TL;DR: Despite some pacing problems at the end and minor details that didn’t fit my personal tastes, Strange the Dreamer is a lush, evocative fantasy about the power of dreams. Readers who enjoy epic fantasy and stories about gods, star-crossed love, and will probably adore this book.

[sebastianshaw]

@starbucks-redcups Here is the “Toad in Tabletop Games I Like” post you requested! Also tagging @toadlingscentral and @brotherhoodofm and @awkward-snake-girl because Toad... @acaprioglino, you still like Toad? Okay, so I said I would pick a vampire clan or a werewolf/other wereanimal breed, or a DnD race class...but for Toad I am doing ALL of them because I immediately knew which I think he’d be for each. For a vampire, he is absolutely a Nosferatu. In the “Vampire: The Masquerade” setting, each clan of vampires has a curse, a weakness. For the Brujah, they enter Frenzy (a state of uncontrollable bloodthirsty rage) twice as easily as other clans. For the Lasombra, they do not appear in mirrors or photography, a fitting punishment for their pride, and more of a problem than it used to be in this modern age of cameras everywhere. For the Toreador, their same of beauty that makes them artists can also hypnotize them, making them stand still staring enraptured at whatever has captured their aesthetic appreciation...a big problem if the sun comes up or someone is attacking them. And Nosferatu....the poor Nosferatu are all so hideously deformed that they cannot ever mingle with humans, they must remain hidden so as to preserve the Masquerade (the system that keeps humans from knowing vampires exist and walk among them)  No matter what a Nosferatu looked like before their Embrace (becoming a vampire) they become horrible in death, often unrecognizable as their former selves. Many look like Count Orlok in the movie that bears their clan name, but many others have a more “individual” appearence---all of them, however, are too hideous to ever pass as human, and even the other clans look at them with revulsion (especially the beauty-obsessed Toreador) So, like Toad, they’re outcasts for their appearance, both from humanity and often looked down on by other vampires, just like Toad is rejected both by humans and often by other mutants. Yet, just as Toad has been a valuable underling to Magneto, so too are the Nosferatu very valuable to other vampires. The fact that they have had to learn how to stay hidden has made them masters at going undetected (having the power of Obfuscate helps---it can make you invisible or ignored!) and have become spymasters and intel-gatherers without peer! When you need info, you go to the Nosferatu, and they always have it---for a price.  Toad isn’t really an information-peddler at all in canon, but he is very tech-savvy, and that’s where I think he works as a Nos. In the digital age, Nosferatu have kept up very well with using computers and the internet, and some have become truly extraordinary hackers. Toad’s more of a machinery/inventor guy, but I could see Nos!Toad taking the Internet spymaster route instead. I could also see him using his inventing talents to make modern solutions to vampire problems---helping preserve the Masquerade, dealing with hunters, etc---and earning his value to other vampires that way. Nosferatus also have the power of Animalism, letting them control critters. A lot of them seem to prefer rats, but Toad can sometimes control or communicate with amphibians in canon depending who is writing, so I imagine Nos!Toad has a bunch of little frog and toad buddies that act as his eyes, ears, and living security systems.  Finally, Nosferatu are super strong, posessing the power of Potence, and while Toad’s never been a real brawler, his kicks can definitely kill a man! Toad’s werewolf tribe would be a Bone Gnawer. Bone Gnawers are the “mutts” of werewolf society, the outcasts, the poor, the downtrodden, the ill-bred. Their human forms are often homeless bums or filthy runaways, their wolf forms look more like scrawny junkyard dogs, and other tribes look down on them, especially the aristocratic Silver Fangs. They get no respect and have to earn every scrap they get, but they’re innovative and clever since they have to rely on what little they have, and they’re tough as nails despite not being as big and strong as the other tribes. They’re tragic figures, but also smart, scrappy underdogs, just like Toad.  Toad would also be a metis. See, a peculiarity of the wereanimals in “Werewolf: The Apocalpyse” is that they can’t mate with each other, they must mate with humans or animals in order to reproduce. If two werewolves mate, their offpsring will be sterile and deformed, and this is called a metis. As a note, the term “metis” is also unfortunately the name of a real-world Indigenuous Canadian ethnic group, and while I hope there is no connection (the werewolves use a lot of their own unique language that was invented for the game---crinos, ahroun, theurge, etc.---) this game company (White Wolf) has done shitty racist things before, so like...it’s a possibility. But like, regardless of what the NAME for such a creature is, that’s what Toad would be.  Anyway, MOST werewolf tribes shun the metis, and it’s against their laws for Garou (werewolves) to mate with each other for the exact reason that it produces metis. A metis has to earn their place normally, and a lot of them spend their whole lives trying to do that. But the Bone Gnawers are different. They not only embrace their own metis, but they will adopt the metis from other tribes as their own, not blaming them for the sins of their parents or being what they are. But other tribes will still be nasty towards them. So, Toad has a place among his own people, but will still face persecution from others, which I think fits. Many metis and Bone Gnawers both often become angry and bitter because they’re fighting for the same righteous cause as other Garou (just as the Brotherhood wants to protect mutantkind, the werewolves want to protect Gaia) but get treated like dogshit, which I think also fits Toad. They keep fighting the good fight, but they’re often snarky and distrustful of others because they always expect to get kicked once they’re not useful. For a werebeast, I think he’d be a Ratkin. The Ratkin are wererats, and they’re my FAVES. Not just because I love rats, but because they’re honestly SO MUCH FUN. It’s kind of hard for me to describe if you’re not familiar with the setting, but in a world where a lot of the other creatures are all very formal and serious, the Ratkin are like...honestly, I could read their entire breedbook with Toad’s voice from the X-Men Evo cartoon and it would sound PERFECT; one of the rats in it talks about how a Stargazer tribe werewolf tried to impress him with a haiku about cherry blossosm, so the Ratkin recited half a limerick then hit the wolf on the nose with a stick and ran away. I love it, I love them.  Like the Bone Gnawers (the only werewolf tribe they get along with) they’re scrappers and survivors who live on the fringes of society, using their brains to fight for a good cause even if they’re not as big and tough as others, and even if those others don’t appreciate them.  There are different “Aspects” of Ratkin, basically different castes, and Toad would ABSOLUTELY be an engineer. Engineers use their shocking intelligence to salvage and devise ingenious devices from rubble and garbage to fight against the Wyrm and its servants (the Wyrm is like...the big bad evil spirit that all the wereanimals are fighting to save Gaia from, basically) Metis are a thing with wererats too, but the rats treat them equal, unlike werewolves. I would still have Toad be one, though, to keep his odd appearance; his rat form would probably be hairless, poor guy, and he’d probably have an unpleasant smell. As a note, Ratkin HATE humans, but the Ratkin metis will often have sympathy for humans who are downtrodden and outcast by other humans (which can make their fellow rats sneer at them)  Finally, for DnD, his class would be either a Rogue or an Artificer. A Rogue is one of the original classic DnD classes, they’re sneaky cunning thief-types who live by their wits and rely on skills and stealth and cunning and trickery instead of brute force. They pick locks and pick pockets, and I think they’d be a great fit for X-men Evolution Toad specifically. They can be very acrobatic, and are great at avoiding danger, which also fits for Toad’s leaping abilities and how he can be cowardly ( speaking of that, the Ratkin, while ultimately willing to die for Gaia if they must, would definitely always prefer to live another day if they can, rather than die a noble death if they don’t have to) So you could totally go with Toad as a Rogue, someone who has been cast out by society and thus has become a thief and a scoundrel to survive. But the Artificer, a new class, works even better when you consider Toad’s mechanical genius. Artificers, like the Ratkin Engineers, merge science with the supernatural. They’re inventors extraordinaire who unlock the magic in everyday objects, and channel arcane power with tools and tinkering! For his race, either a Grung or a Kobold. The Grung are little frog-people. They’re agile, they’re amphibious, they jump really good, and their skin secretes a substance that is harmless to them but poisonous to other creatures. By using a small amount of this poison, they can mentally enslave other creatures, and depending on the writer (Toad’s powers fluctuate around a lot due to his unstable genetic structure, as I’m sure you know)  Toad can also secrete chemicals from his tongue and fingertips that allow him to influence, manipulate, and control the minds of others to a limited extent, so there’s that similarity. Different colored grungs have different castes/roles in their society, and I think Toad would be a green or blue.  Green grungs are the tribe's warriors, hunters, and laborers, and blue grungs work as artisans and in other domestic roles. Green because, even though he’s not the bravest, he is often used as a grunt or canon fodder in fights by the Brotherhood, and blue because “artisan” could also cover being an inventor. Kobolds are little lizard-people who often serve dragons as the dragon’s minions (and Toad is usually in the minion role) and are noted for their skill at building traps and preparing ambushes, which I think Toad’s engineering skills would make him good at, plus I think he’d far prefer trapping an enemy than having to fight them. Like Toad, Kobolds are often dismissed as cowardly, foolish, and weak by others, but actually they’re clever and can be quite aggressive, as is the case with Toad too.  I hope you enjoyed this and that at least some of it was accurate/fitting!

[quoteablebooks]

Genre: Nonfiction, True Crime 

Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars

Summary:

A masterful true crime account of the Golden State Killer—the elusive serial rapist turned murderer who terrorized California for over a decade—from Michelle McNamara, the gifted journalist who died tragically while investigating the case. "You’ll be silent forever, and I’ll be gone in the dark." For more than ten years, a mysterious and violent predator committed fifty sexual assaults in Northern California before moving south, where he perpetrated ten sadistic murders. Then he disappeared, eluding capture by multiple police forces and some of the best detectives in the area. Three decades later, Michelle McNamara, a true crime journalist who created the popular website TrueCrimeDiary.com, was determined to find the violent psychopath she called "the Golden State Killer." McNamara pored over police reports, interviewed victims, and embedded herself in the online communities that were as obsessed with the case as she was. At the time of the crimes, the Golden State Killer was between the ages of eighteen and thirty, Caucasian, and athletic—capable of vaulting tall fences. He always wore a mask. After choosing a victim—he favored suburban couples—he often entered their home when no one was there, studying family pictures, mastering the layout. He attacked while they slept, using a flashlight to awaken and blind them. Though they could not recognize him, his victims recalled his voice: a guttural whisper through clenched teeth, abrupt and threatening. I’ll Be Gone in the Dark—the masterpiece McNamara was writing at the time of her sudden death—offers an atmospheric snapshot of a moment in American history and a chilling account of a criminal mastermind and the wreckage he left behind. It is also a portrait of a woman’s obsession and her unflagging pursuit of the truth. Framed by an introduction by Gillian Flynn and an afterword by her husband, Patton Oswalt, the book was completed by McNamara's lead researcher and a close colleague. Utterly original and compelling, it is destined to become a true crime classic—and may at last unmask the Golden State Killer.

*Opinions*

As always with all nonfiction books, it is difficult for me to rate them due to the fact that I am not an expert on the material being presented. That being said, as I have become more and more interested in true crime, I’ve heard a number of podcast episodes about the Golden State Killer and gotten familiar with the general nightmare-inducing facts of the case. However, as most of those podcasts are either drawn from the same information or from Michelle McNamara’s work itself, it is impossible to tease it all apart. All that, on top of the fact that McNamara didn’t even get to finish the novel and therefore there are a number of different voices that are mingling with hers as well as unpolished text from McNamara herself, makes it impossibly to really be able to rate this novel in any critical sense. I feel torn because if McNamara had finished the novel it would be a 5-star read without even a thought and I don’t want to judge it harshly because of unfortunate circumstances, but this is far from a perfect book.   While I enjoy true-crime podcasts, reading about true crime is a bit of hit or miss for me. If the author does not provide the information as a story but just a list of facts then I find it very boring. I am also finding that I am more connected, interested, and invested in a story when there is a focus on the victims and the people surrounding the crimes and not just whatever killer the book is about. There has been a conversation in a long time about how those covering crimes that they need to stop glorifying the killer as there have been criminals who state that they do these horrendous things just to get their names in the news and to live in infamy instead of focusing on the victims and their families. Yet as someone who has multiple mental health-related degrees, why serial killers become serial killers is interesting to me and most people want to find some common trait or thread to protect them from becoming a victim themselves McNamara walks the line between telling the victims stories without being voyeuristic to their trauma and speculating about who the Golden State Killer is without glorifying him. Never is he called a genius because that is the only way he could outsmart the police, but instead points out the lack of technology and the stubbornness to cooperate along with possibly a job that provided him skills and access to his victims that made it so the Golden State Killer hadn’t been caught at the time of writing the book. You care about the people who were terrorized and lost their lives because McNamara focuses on who they are as people, not because of the way they were attacked and killed. You can tell that McNamara wasn’t just obsessed with who the Golden State Killer is, but also cared about these people she had read about in police reports or spoke with find some closure. Reading this knowing that McNamara passed away not only before her book was published, but also before the Golden State Killer was caught gave an air of sadness to this novel. I know this was probably just my knowledge of the event surrounding the novel and events, but I almost felt that McNamara was slightly sad as well when compiling all these cases and all the destruction that had been left in one individual’s wake. She was also aware that she was missing parts of her personal life due to this obsession, which makes it all the sadder knowing how little time she had left while talking about forgetting anniversaries and hating movie premieres. That being said, the overall mood is frustration and determination that someone, somewhere would get this guy and she was right. When I read the notes compiled by others who finished the book I felt a little well when some of her notes were going down the ancestry DNA route, knowing that ultimately that is what helped them find him. I know that the individuals who wrote the last sections of the novel, Billy Jensen and Paul Haynes knew that they couldn’t write like McNamara, they said so themselves, still that last section was so disjointed that I found myself losing a lot of interest in the last 40 pages. That’s possible because I knew how the story ended, even though they didn’t while compiling the last part of McNamara’s research so it was just sad seeing all these things that she never got to finish than wondering if one of these pieces of information would have lead to catching a killer. Overall, this is a compelling and chilling story about one man making an entire state fear the dark for a decade. McNamara’s writing is real and emotional and likes having a conversation with a friend of coffee as she tells you about this thing she’s obsessed with. While I did not find the end of the book interesting, I think it is a 4.5 star read, which I will round up to five. It’s sad to think how many other people McNamara could have researched in an attempt to bring them into the light if she hadn’t passed away.