Geisha Are Absolutely Not Prostitutes Btw

That ol’ chart of mine makes the rounds online periodically and it drives me crazy because it’s frankly not very good. So, I finally got around to remaking it.

I doubt this will get anywhere near as popular, but I wanted to make it.

Good reference for animation, comics, and for visualizing phonetics!

Chuuya and Dazai DO NOT hate each other

These two do not hate each other! Yes, they hate each other to a degree or to an extent but most of it is superficial and an example of that is empty death threats. If they truly hated each other, Chuuya wouldn't trust Dazai to stop him every time he uses corruption and Dazai wouldn't save Chuuya every time he uses corruption. I'm not saying they're lovers, friends, or anything for that matter! But calling their relationship toxic would be an understatement and so does calling it a love-hate relationship. Their relationship is very very complicated to comprehend to someone's brain.

The Fates (Maleficent AU)

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

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

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

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

They have done well to hide his location.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(Voldemort is curious—

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

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

Perhaps some day he'd visit that cottage himself)

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

"Speak, Barty."

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

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

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

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

Many years

come to

a pass,

Voldemort decides to visit.

"How old is he?"

"Eleven, my Lord."

Voldemort hums.

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

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

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

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

"Hm."

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

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

The boy left the barrier.

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

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

"Where is he?"

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

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

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

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

He growls.

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

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

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

Knew what?

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

Yes.

You're real.

I am.

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

I'm not sure you want to know.

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

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

Cheeky boy.

Fine, he says in final.)

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

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

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

Yes. "No, of course not."

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hold him?

Kill him?

Is there a difference?

He ignores this feeling.

"How old are you?"

"Thirteen."

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

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

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

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

"...will it be alright?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

How remarkably easy that Voldemort nearly laughs.

("Is that...?"

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

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

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

"Will you come back?"

Without hesitation, he responds, "No."

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

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

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

Voldemort Apparates.

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

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

It repeats the next year.

Then the next.

And the next—)

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

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

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

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

"We shall see."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Voldemort disappears the moment they step into the festivity.

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

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

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

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

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

To steal him away

To lick the teasing skin of his neck

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

What he wants does not matter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Next time."

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

"I promise."

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

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

This is it.

Kill him.

Apparate to the furthest parts of the woods and kill him

Kill

Him

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

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

"Not yet."

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

"Maybe."

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

"Will you ever stop asking meaningless questions?

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

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

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

He sucks a small, pale mark on his neck.

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

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

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

Sukuna knows who he wants

SLAMS FIST ON TABLE

FROM THE BOTTOM OF HIS HEART

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We are thrilled to announce we are hosting DAMEN LOVE FEST 2023, a week-long celebration dedicated to Damianos of Akielos, set to take place during the first week of DECEMBER 2023.

If you'd like to participate, please use the hashtag #damenlovefest2023 so we can find and share your work. From art to edits, gifs, moodboards, fic, web weavings, meta, and more, all forms of content are warmly welcomed and appreciated. Additionally, we kindly ask that you reblog this post to help signal boost the event!

Each day of the event will feature a unique prompt along with suggestions to inspire and motivate creators. Here's a preview of the daily themes:

Day 1: Family

Familial relationships

Favorite dynamics

Men and women in Damen’s life

Damen craving family

Damen and “his” son

Day 2: Akielos

Ancestral family tree / previous monarchs

His household: Lykaios, his childhood trainer Haemon, his unnamed guards, squires and slaves

What Akielos means to Damen

Boyhood and adolescence

Friends and allies

Longing for home

Clothes, outfits and costumes

Cultural customs and norms

Day 3: Politics

Damen as a leader

His idea of realm and rulership

Damen and his people

Justice and law

Decisions and actions

Intelligence and skills

Abolitionism

Social and political changes

Validation of marginalized people

Cultural and linguistic amalgamation

Wants and needs vs duty and sacrifices

Day 4: Personality

Damen as a lover

Sexuality

Underrated qualities and skills

Importance to the narrative

Intelligence

Humor

Compassion, kindness and tenderness

Bravest moments

Liberator, protector, hero, abolitionist, and savior

Versatility as a prince, military commander, captain, merchant's assistant, slave/servant/squire, commoner, and king

Humanity, unity and peace

Embodiment of hope

Legacy

Day 5: Relationships

Lovers

Love interests

Friendships

Rarepairs

Underrated relationships and dynamics

(To keep the focus centered on Damen during his week of celebration, we kindly ask that you prioritize 1:1 Damen pairings)

Day 6: Slavery, Trauma and Abuse

Damen as a slave

Damen as a survivor

Childhood trauma

Trauma in Ios

Trauma in Arles

How Laurent’s abuse affected him

Coping mechanisms

From prince to slave to king

Trials and challenges

Resilience and inner strength

Dealing with xenophobia

Adaptability

Overcoming cultural differences

Narrative of displacement

Day 7: Foils and Parallels

Antagonists

Parallels

Foils

Mythological or historical parallels

We can't wait to see your contributions and celebrate Damen's incredible character together! ♡

IMMA HIDE IN A CORNER AND CRY OVER THIS FOREVER

satosugu week day 1 - confession

i’ll be posting a short comic every day for this hell week!

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serial killer tomarry fic recs please? 🥺

[Evil laughter] I got you, Amanda...

Of Shadow and Blood by Wolf_of_Lilacs

Even serial killers should exercise caution when picking up hitchhikers. Who knew? (Certainly not Tommie Riddle, with a pathological fear of death and a taste for the macabre.)

I love this one to pieces. Femslash, vampire Harry... glorious.

The Matchmaker by TanninTele

'The Matchmaker' is a serial abductor whose modus operandi consists of pairing two same-sex individuals together in a coffin, six feet underground - buried alive. He isn't a killer. He's a kidnapper with morals, and Detective Chief Inspector Tom Riddle finds himself obsessed with solving the case.

Unfortunately for Tom, the Matchmaker is just as intent on knowing him.

This one is a personal favourite. I don’t want to spoil anything, but let’s just say Tom is the detective here.

Mania by Angel_of_Mysteries

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

Hm, yes, this one is pain. My own notes on the bookmark are spoilers, so I won’t post these here, but let’s just say there’s no happy ending for Harry here.

City Lights by tarouhi

The Puppeteer has made a name for himself in London. The infamous serial killer's eccentric methods of killing brings havoc for the authorities. It escalates until one Tom Riddle and his team are assigned to the case.

It's a good thing that Harry always comforted him when he's home.

This one is quite sweet, actually! Tom is the detective once again, and Harry is his boyfriend. It’s a WIP at the moment, with four chapters, but a definite favourite.

In Essence, Divided by Wolf_of_Lilacs

Her phone read 2:13 a.m.

Super spooky. Femslash. Would recommend, 10/10.

Through A Glass Darkly by Wolf_of_Lilacs

The night is dark and full of terrors. Look away. There is naught but disquiet here. (Always femslash.)

Who am I kidding, have the whole series. Delicious.

You’re bleeding because you don’t floss by Arualiaa

Doctor Riddle harbours a dark secret. With an artist's soul and a steady hand, he cleanses the world of imperfection, one careless patient at a time. When Harry Potter shows up at his clinic, he finally finds the perfection he'd been looking for.

It is right then and there when Tom Riddle, odontologist and serial killer, decides that he must protect that smile at all costs.

This one is so weird. And so sweet.

Murder Husbands by Prince_of_Pharaohs

Tom Riddle is the infamous, well-known serial killer: Lord Voldemort. A terrifying killer who has never been seen, not even a silhouette or anything. Harry Potter, on the other hand, is the notorious murderer edgily named: Master of Death. An alpha-hating serial killer, who, as you expected, only targeted alphas.

They were two rival serial killers whose motives are completely unknown. Disturbingly, sometimes they even used their murders to communicate with each other, challenging the other.

Both of them are married to each other, not knowing the other was their rival. Then one thing led to another, and Harry is straddling his husband with a knife in hand.

Now, I’m not usually one for ABO, but this is good. Very good. Featuring rival serial killers, married. WIP, two chapers.

Depraved by IvoryRaven

Harry meets a stranger at his favorite cafe and they fall in love almost instantly, bonding over mutual interest in Harry's writing and murder.

Harry is a murder mystery writer. Little does he know that his new boyfriend is the notorious serial killer Voldemort.

This one is good, very good. No angst.

Ashes to Ashes by watchingvfall_n_drown

Tom's hands were made for destroying. He should never have tried to hold on to something so beautiful in the first place. He couldn't go on denying his nature for long, could he? And now, the only thing he had ever treasured in the whole world was turned to ash by his own hand.

Short, but incredibly painful.

Light House by teecup_angel

Hermione is a new recruit of Scotland Yard. A week after her placement in Remus Lupin’s team, they get a case of highest priority: the abduction of Harry Potter.

This one is pretty good. It is a WIP, though, with two chapters remaining, and was last updated in 2016. Be warned.

And now, hijacking fic recs to rec my own fics...

darling, i’ll dream of you when you’re gone by goldenzingy46

Tom Riddle is a perfectionist serial killer, looking for ways to murder his next victim - the optimistic, dreadfully pretty Harry Potter.

But wait, something else happens too.

(For the Distractions' Halloween Big Bang.)

No happy ending for Tom in this one.

My Heart Beats Against Your Silver Knife by goldenzingy46

Harry Potter was never the kind of man to care about his life, eating cheap food in a cheap flat and never bothering to futher himself - why should he?

He cared, however, when it came to solving crime - and the latest murder mystery was no exception, sending him all over London in hopes of solving it and many crimes associated with the help of the charming Tom Riddle from Riddle Manor, just up the hill.

But there was something slightly off about Tom Riddle...

(Still not happy with the summary.) WIP, not abandoned, involving detective Harry and serial killer Tom, who ‘helps out’ as a profiler.

long fingers for a woman by goldenzingy46

Tommie Riddle is a serial killer who likes to choke the life out of men.

Harriet Potter likes to wear drag.

Mistakes are made, but all in all, the ending came out fine.

Femslash, crossdressing, serial killers, happy ending.

Send in asks for any fic recs you’d like!

Fandoms can be found in the previous message, but a quick reiteration: Lucifer, Good Omens, Sherlock, Marvel, Harry Potter - if you’re interested in fic recs for these fandoms, check out the last fic rec post for what I can offer.

One of my resolution for 2022 is to post daily (no matter if they’re sketches or works in progress) but it seems with this resolution, my daily sketches of DaChuu will be revealed =.=;

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

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

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

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