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Is It Better To Speak or To Die by unbandaged_human
Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
25 Nov 2025
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Summary
“Boy!” Vernon’s voice snapped Harry out of his thoughts. He looked up to see his uncle glaring at him. “Are you even listening?”
“Yes, Uncle Vernon,” Harry muttered, quickly averting his eyes.
Vernon grunted, satisfied, and turned back to his meal. But Harry kept sneaking glances at Petunia, her silence speaking louder than any of Vernon’s rants ever could.
For the first time, Harry wondered if she was trapped too.
When the wards fail after an incident, Harry is cast out of the Dursleys and into the reluctant care of Professor Snape. Silent and spiraling, Harry discovers an unsettling power within him. With a growing Dark Lord, Malfoy under the same roof, and secrets simmering, healing might not be enough to save them.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 77,279
- Chapters:
- 18/?
- Comments:
- 357
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- 2,317
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Bookmarked by Itcat
02 Feb 2026
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Verso saw Maelle's fate in his mother's heartbreaking descent into all-consuming obsession. He didn't want this for her. His decision was clear. The canvas had to be erased. And he got his say. It was being erased before his very eyes. But... why wasn't he? Why was he... being pulled out into reality?
[ In an anguished whisper, he exhaled, “I’m tired… I’m so tired… I can finally rest now. I know this is hurting you. But can you be happy for me? Just a little? In your own big world… in your little room… would you think of me and spare a smile for me? Would you remember me as I am, not as you wished me to be?”
Heaving one last sigh, Verso closed his eyes. He was finally at peace. He could feel the beginning of his own disintegration.
But then…
In a last ditch effort, Maelle threw her arms around his neck and clung. Hard. He could feel her nails digging into his skin.
“I’m not letting you go,” she promised, half devoted, half feral. ]
Bookmarked by Itcat
14 Jan 2026
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Verso didn't expect to meet his soulmate in a bakery. He also didn't expect said soulmate to be the only man in the capital unable to recognize the crown prince by name.
He isn't complaining, this is the first time in years he's been able to exist as himself and not as an extension of his family.
Surely, it won't hurt to keep up the pretense for a little while?
Series
- Part 2 of Toile Déchirée
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 232,536
- Chapters:
- 36/40
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- 1
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- 1,078
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- 32,717
Bookmarked by Itcat
12 Jan 2026
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Summary
When you Paint, there are rules. In her grief, Aline broke them all.
The crack in the stability of the Canvas was all it took for the Writers to thread their own craft through it, letting them pull out a handful of inhabitants as their tethers to their world snapped. They explain it as a mercy to the confused members of Expedition 33 when they wake up in Paris. They tell them it was a rescue mission, to save them from the whims of the Painters—that this fight is now theirs, too.
But Gustave, Lune, Sciel and a very confused Maelle were not the only ones plucked from the Canvas. Beneath the Writer’s Council, Verso wakes in a locked cell, a new piece on the board of their war. Clea Dessendre, on the warpath and determined to get revenge on the Writers, finds herself with the unlikeliest of allies. And above the music halls of Paris, a dead man wakes back up.
Turns out this Expedition might not be finished, after all.
Bookmarked by Itcat
06 Jan 2026
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Summary
Gustave sits at the cliffside with Maelle tucked to his side. He’s writing, because of course he is. Writing was the gift he had been born with. Stories came to him as easily as breath to his lungs. Use of words had been forged into his very soul even when he was denied so. Even now, while he does not remember.
Verso never understood it, though perhaps his kind were never meant to—creating worlds with lavish vocabulary over the graceful stroke of a brush—and yet he never found them any less beautiful when written by him.
In another life, Verso—the true Verso—had risked everything for those pretty words, in another world where the blending of art and literature was forced apart, made forbidden and long thought impossible.
In this life—or unlife, perhaps—he can only stare at both parts of his heart with a hollowed soul and memories of fire upon his skin.
(In which Gustave lives, and Verso’s Canvas harbors one more grief-stricken soul.)
Bookmarked by Itcat
04 Jan 2026