#about the autho
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Since the tma fandom seems pretty into cat AUs rn, here's a link to a "Jon gets turned into a cat" fic that I enjoyed reading recently ^-^
Basically (s1 abouts, iirc) Jon gets turned into a cat by a Leitner and Martin has to take him home for the weekend, and it's all very nice and fluffy and also Martin is convinced Jon hates him because Jon sucks at affection even as a cat
#also a roly poly shows up for one scene which is the real selling point here (/silly)#tho /genuine: I do think the autho is damn good at writing cats#at least jon cats#tma cats#rambling about blorbos
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*hires me for my ability to work outside of ‘typical’ work hours*
*proceeds to grill my clients about why they’re class times are week ends and or late nights*
Tbh this is up there with:
*dor sets my rate + travel svc + mileage*
*dor complains that I’m too expensive to hire bc mileage*
#living la vida valerie#utter bs that I need to deal with given that I still haven’t been paid (since April)#their accting and higher admins (esp the new one) is wildly condescending framing everything like I’m at fault#but I also keep detailed receipts/emails/ screenshots of all convos so all the accusatory emails all end in like Oh we’ll talk about it#well obv you’re at fault for delayed authos — I sent the req 15days here’s the email showing that I did this and I followed up on the ignore#do you want me to fwd you the email chain where I got ignored?#oh no I don’t need that *proceeds to jump to another topic*#why isn’t there enough $$ requested in the autho?#I requested the full amt for service M decided not to authorize it all#well it needs an amendment#yes which I’ve also requested 5 times the first which was only given partially and when I tried to email about the missing portion she#ignored the remaining 4 emails (also you are cc’d in 2 of them)#oh *jumps to next topic*#so when am I getting paid#we’re working on that we value your work so keep doing it and thank you for your patience#not enough to get paid for it apparently
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i've been trying really hard to focus on my original writing (i've got 75k on a novel since august and over 100k written in the year), but i've been thinking about wicked so much that it made me realize i have not planned any kind of romantic arc in future projects that's enemies to lovers. and so i am trying to fix this by baking that arc into a new vampire novel i'm planning
#*which is sort of inspired by a vampire book that came out this year by one of my favorite authoes#*authors#which i love a lot but didnt end up being explicitly sapphic#i've started describing my career prospects as stephen king for women and gay ppl#(which isnt entirely accurate cause i as a bisexual woman love stephen king but admittedly he's weaker in those departments)#and the more shit i plan the more it feels true#like not every project i have going is super gay... i like m/f romances too and feature them centrally#but goddamn i sure do write about it a lot#my current project is very tragic sapphic vibes but it's got a lot of other things going on#writing
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Oh my fuck.
The entitlement some of you people in the fandom have. It's baffling. Absolutely mind-boggling.
Tell me, how the fuck were you raised and where exactly did you find this audacity? The sheer audacity.
Fanfiction is fucking free, it's beautiful, it's a community. It's an art.
So many people, including myself, go on and on about how amazing ao3 is and how insanely good the writers are.
The reason for this is, they do it because they love it. They hold such passion and love for it; the writing, the characters, the story. And they want to share it. They do it with their heart.
Now how dare you trample on it like this? Act as if you're entitled to it. As if you're fucking owed something, as if it's merely a product you paid for.
It's a gift and all you should be is motherfucking grateful, nothing less.
Not a curse word vile enough to convey what I feel exists.
Fuck yourselves.
#marauders fandom#marauders fanfiction#marauders#dead gay wizards#this ofc applies to a myriad of other fandoms unfortunately#but this is mostly about our fandom here#you all fucking suck#the toxicity is unreal#too tired to analyze this properly#but enough was said#ive been seeing so much mistreatment of ff authos lately#and especially to my absolute favourites#unforgivable
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there's just something about my dracthyr that i find insanely pretty and hot. like. look at their fucking hips, their waist, their THIGHS oh my god their thighs with the little patch of lighter coloured scales in the inside, following down the underside of the tail. their clumsy stompy feet, their GORGEOUS thwap thwappy tail with the cute little spikes on it. their arms, their massive fingers, their soft little palms and their dainty little talons. look at those chest/shoulder spikes, look at the texture they add i LOVE them. i love their giant floppy wings always dragging behind them, wings that show emotion like a catboys ears. little twitches of joy and fear and curiosity.
and have you seen their face??? their stupid little goofy face?? everything is new and exciting and they cannot hide their joy look at those teeth!!!! rows of little lovely needles!! their little lizard tongue that flicks around when they talk, their gorgeous glowing eyes and their massive massive shiny horns.
i love this fucking idiot so much i think they're increadibly hot and loveable.
#this has been dracthyr loving hours#sorry i just came back to the game after a little end-of-season break and was overcome by lust and adoration#and felt compelled to share for fellow dracthyr and dragon enthusiasts#dracthyr#world of warcraft#please talk to me about dracthyr and/or dragons i am very normal about them#i promise#authos
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In the same Vien: when they think India is just one homogenized culture, and also think that people from Pakistan or Bangladesh are from India.
Like, there's too much variety in those places to just flatten it down like that
yes!! i remember a sri lankan author once saying (paraphrasing here) that people consider south asian rep to mean india (of course even then usually the middle class hindu rep(usually north indian too lol)). i don't know who or if that's even exactly what she meant but the sentiment remains
#the generalised view that people have of asia bleeds into things like this too#as well as west asia#i remember the introduction for no longer human by osamu dazai#the translator does mention how dazai waned to be in the leagues of western authors and disliked that he would be considered an asian autho#alongside authors from west asia because he saw himself as better than that#anon#asks#if anyone knows what im talking about pls correct me#*edit i just went back to the introduction and it wasn't dazai himself who didnt want to be named alongside the iraqi author but a friend o#the translator (donald keene)#im going to post the excerpt
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im suffering through a backpain rn so all i will offer for a while are rebblogs with madman babblings. and here, for anyone who are interested (whoever u r, ily.)
#i dont usually complain here but please excuse me for this one because good lord#also before i start babble please think of the preview as a bribe. or peace offering 🫰#but anyway so#i know there are times where my back hurts but man this time it hurts so much i have difficulties standing and sitting#like an actual grandma. i joke a lot about being grandma but really backache this severe in your 20s is not normal right?????#the funny part is that i try some yoga moves and light stretching pose and we are okay#on the good side this means i have a reason to binge read muehehhehee#the bad news is that. my schedule. next week. my back please get well soon please#okay thats all#if you are reading up to this point ily muach muach kis kiss visit hope ur fave fic got an update#hope ur fave stays alive hope ur fave authoe updates hope ur work/school is going very very fine#muach muach#okay back to reading. im very unwell in the head rn im sorry#maybe will delete later#babblings#also there is rin and kaiser and neuvi wip too but....
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when your fave fic updates with a note from the author saying she hasn't decided of your otp is going to end up together at the end of the story
#sally speaks#fanfic#my heart literally shattered#like the author is totally within her rights to end the story how she sees fit#but maaaaaaaan i really wanted them to be happy#god damn it#why must i have to do everything lol#time to aggressively write them being happy to try to mend my own heart#this is not a slight against the authoe btw she is so talented and an amazing writer to make me feel this way about her story#i am just someone who prefers happy endings lol#different strokes and all that
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ATEEZ as Hogwarts Students
Pairing(s): hogwarts student!ateez x hogwarts student!reader
Word Count: 9.8k
A/N: Oh my gosh, thank you all so much for helping me reach 2.3k followers! To celebrate this, I'm back again with another one of these! Once again, special thanks to my one and only, my pookie, @itstheghostofmypast, for helping me confirm which houses some of the members should be in💘
ATEEZ MASTERLIST
Hongjoong ↠ Gryffindor
The Poor Prefect That Nobody Takes Seriously
"I swear to god, if I see another damn chocolate frog loose in the dorm, I'll—" Before Hongjoong could even finish, a cheeky first-year passing by stuck his tongue out at him. "What are you gonna do? Run off to cry to Professor McGonagall again?"
The seventh-year's jaw dropped, his blood pressure spiking, but the kid was gone before he could even scold him. Two years—he'd been a prefect for almost two years now, and still, no one ever took him seriously. Thinking back to his early days as an optimistic prefect, eager to bring order and discipline to his rowdy housemates, he knew now how impossible that dream was.
But was he going to stop trying?
Not a damn chance.
Hongjoong had chosen to become a prefect the very moment he was eligible in his fifth year. Professors had always praised him as reliable, a natural-born leader, and he'd believed that wholeheartedly. He'd pictured himself bringing order to his dormitory, respected by his housemates for his efforts to keep things in line. But the reality? Gryffindors, as he was learning, could be a lot harder to control than he ever expected.
Unfortunately, his "small but mighty" reputation didn't exactly translate into authority. He'd start off with a firm tone, reminding them of the rules, only to watch them twist his words into a rallying cry for their next scheme. His attempts at seriousness somehow only fueled their chaotic Gryffindor spirits, making him seem more like a mascot for daring antics than a figure of discipline.
While the academic staff continued to commend his commitment, his classmates saw him as the "cool" prefect—the one who'd cover for them more often than not, a little too forgiving to actually be feared. Some nights, he'd even find himself dragged into the very pranks he was supposed to be preventing, swept up by the contagious energy of his friends.
Despite everything, Hongjoong couldn't bring himself to truly give up. Every morning, he'd tell himself that today was the day he'd put his foot down, that he'd be the prefect his professors always said he could be. He knew the odds weren't in his favour, but in true Gryffindor fashion, he wasn't about to back down from the challenge.
Today's the day—I can feel it in my bones.
Letting out a determined breath, Hongjoong's gaze fixed on the notice board, now littered with doodles, silly notes, and questionable "decorations." With a purposeful nod, he crossed his arms and cleared his throat, catching the attention of the Gryffindors lounging around the common room. "Forget the frogs then. How many times have I told you all not to vandalise the notice board with your nonsense? It's used solely for—"
"For important announcements. Yes, we get it," piped up a cheeky third-year, eyes glinting with mischief. "But there are no announcements at the moment, so is it really so bad if we, y'know, decorate a little?"
And there it was again—the quick responses that left him speechless every time. Hongjoong tried to keep his expression stern, but a tiny part of him could almost see their point. Was it so bad to have a bit of fun? No, he reminded himself, that's not the point. But as he felt his resolve waver, he knew a miracle wasn't going to happen today. Why couldn't he be both firm and likeable, just like—
"Oh, so you want to test if it's bad?" your voice cut through, sharp but calm, as you stepped down from the spiral staircase. You'd been listening long enough to hear their usual defiance, and you were not about to let them undermine your boyfriend's authority. "How about we invite the professors to take a look at your 'artwork' and see how much they'd appreciate it, hm?"
Like you.
Hongjoong released a breath he hadn't realised he was holding, grateful for your support. You, with your knack for balancing authority and approachability, were everything he wished he could be as a prefect. If he could just learn how to be firm, like you, maybe Gryffindor's antics would finally come under control.
"You heard her," he added, finding a bit of confidence again as he nodded in agreement. "Clean it up. Now."
The students exchanged glances, sighing as they reluctantly began peeling off the doodles. He couldn't help but grin a little as he glanced your way.
"Thanks, babe," he mouthed.
You shook your head, smiling as you nodded toward the remaining Gryffindors lounging around. "I'm heading to the Great Hall first. I'll leave it to you to get everyone to breakfast on time, Joong. Think you can handle it?"
Hongjoong nodded enthusiastically, eager to make you proud. "You bet. They're going to see a whole new Prefect Kim this year," he declared confidently.
You laughed, both amused and a bit sceptical. He'd nearly caved to their antics just moments ago, but that was part of his charm. You loved how different he was from you—how he helped you loosen up when you were too serious, just as you helped him stay firm when he got a little too lenient. Together, you two were like yin and yang, balanced and perfectly matched, as everyone in the house always teased.
Squeezing his hand, you gave him a playful smile. "Show 'em, tiger," you winked before turning to leave, catching a glimpse of his cheeks turning pink.
The moment you were out of sight, the common room burst into whistles and smirks around him. Snapping out of his trance, your boyfriend rolled his eyes, trying to keep his composure.
"Alright, folks," he called out, clapping his hands. "You heard my girl. Let's cooperate for once and head to the Great Hall on time—don't make me disappoint her!"
The Gryffindors grinned, shuffling toward the door without a fuss, eager to play along. He smirked, pleased with their obedience whenever you were mentioned. Maybe he'd always need your presence to keep this difficult crowd in line, but he didn't mind at all. He knew they didn't have to fear him for him to be a good prefect. Deep down, he knew they all adored him, and he was pretty sure that, rule-breaking aside, they wouldn't truly make things difficult for him. They just loved teasing him—because, honestly, he might just be their favourite prefect.
Seonghwa ↠ Hufflepuff
The Goody Two Shoes and Teacher's Pet
"Oh, Seonghwa, my boy! What brings you here on a weekend? Shouldn't you be off enjoying Hogsmeade with your girlfriend?" Professor Sprout asked, pleasantly surprised as her star student stepped into the greenhouse, notebook in hand. The seventh-year smiled brightly, giving her a respectful nod before approaching.
"Good afternoon, Professor! I just came by to check on my mandrake—I'm determined to cultivate one to maturity for my latest Restorative Draught. And, uh… my girlfriend, she'll be here to join me soon," he added, rubbing the back of his neck, cheeks turning pink at the mention of you.
Professor Sprout's expression softened, a smile touching her lips. "You're too hard working for your own good, both of you," she gently chided, pride swelling as she glanced at the Hufflepuff sigil pinned proudly on his denim jacket. Even on a day when house representation wasn't required, Park Seonghwa wore his Hufflepuff loyalty openly, reminding everyone where his heart belonged. She knew he had a bright future ahead, and if she were to ever consider early retirement, he would be her top choice to take over as the next Herbology professor.
As if on cue, you pushed open the greenhouse doors and stepped inside. "Hwa, are you here already?" you called, glancing around before your eyes landed on your boyfriend and Professor Sprout.
Seonghwa, who'd been focused on his mandrake, looked up at the sound of your voice, a soft smile lighting up his face. In the presence of authority, he resisted the urge to rush over and hug you, his restraint both endearing and unmistakable. You bit back a laugh, amused by his adorable attempt at composure.
"Oh! Good afternoon, Professor!" you greeted, nodding respectfully. "Are we disturbing you? We can come another day if you need the greenhouse for your work."
She smiled warmly, waving off your concern. "Not at all, dearie. I was just on my way out. You two enjoy your little date," she added with a knowing wink. "And if you're in the mood for a treat, there are some extra Every Flavour Beans on the top shelf—please help yourselves."
"Thank you, Professor!" you and Seonghwa chimed in unison, exchanging a look of warmth and shared gratitude. As the elderly woman left, he gently took your hand, pulling you close enough to place a soft kiss on your forehead. You leaned into him with a contented sigh. "How embarrassing—now she's certain we're dating," you murmured, unable to hide your own smile.
He chuckled, his eyes dancing with affection. "Is that such a terrible thing, love? Maybe it's time the whole world knows you're mine."
You gasped in mock scandal, playfully nudging his shoulder. "How improper," you laughed, but a blush crept into your cheeks. Though you'd never formally announced your relationship, it was hardly a secret—everyone must have guessed by now with all the time you spent together. But for the sake of his reputation as the model student, you'd both kept things understated, not feeling the need to broadcast your love. Now, though, there was a new spark in his eyes, a hint of the Slytherin heritage running through his veins, as if he suddenly wanted the world to see what his heart had always known.
Seonghwa, after all, was the first Hufflepuff in a long line of Ravenclaws and Slytherins—a surprise his family hadn't quite anticipated. But their surprise had never bothered him. Instead, it had only strengthened his resolve to prove that Hufflepuff was as noble and worthy as any other house. Consistently at the top of his class in Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures, he'd gained the admiration of professors for his quiet dedication and high moral standards. Always the first to lend a hand to new students or submit his assignments, he was as dependable as they came.
Yet as much as he wanted to honour his house and his achievements, his heart now longed for something deeper. For the first time, he wanted his family—and everyone else—to see you, the one who had believed in him through every challenge and celebrated every victory, who had loved him exactly as he was. He knew that letting you into his life so openly would be the proudest badge he could ever wear.
"So," he began, biting his lip as he shifted his focus from the mandrake to you, who was busily jotting down notes about its latest growth. "Should we spend some time in Hogsmeade after this?" His voice was soft, almost hesitant, and your eyes widened slightly, your actions faltering as you locked gazes with him.
"You're joking, right? All our friends are there—" you started, but he shook his head, his expression earnest. "I'm serious, love."
The weight of his words sank in, and you realised he wasn't joking at all. A rush of emotions washed over you. "I... I don't know why it took me so long, but I don't want to hide my feelings for you anymore. I want to openly show my affection and be like every other couple in school. It's already our seventh year, and we haven't even been on a proper date. Can we make this the first of many more? Would you like to... go on a date with me?"
Placing your pen down, you blinked, your heart racing at his sincere proposal. This was a big step. Once the truth was out in the open, there would be no turning back—everyone, including his family, would know about you two. But as you looked into his eyes, you felt a rush of warmth. If he was ready for it, then so were you. You knew he would always protect you, no matter what.
With a shy smile, you nodded, feeling butterflies fluttering in your stomach. "Thought you'd never ask."
His face broke into a radiant grin, and the world around you seemed to melt away. Seonghwa stepped closer, allowing your head to rest against his shoulder, enveloped in the warmth of his presence like a cosy blanket. "I can't wait," he murmured softly.
"Me too," you replied, a wave of excitement bubbling in your chest.
In that greenhouse, surrounded by vibrant plants and warm sunlight, you both felt the first tender blooms of something beautiful—a love that was finally ready to thrive in the open, with all the joy and light that came with it.
Yunho ↠ Hufflepuff
The Popular Triwizard Champion
"Well? Have you managed to figure out the next task, golden boy?"
Yunho's head snapped around at the sound of your voice, his wide eyes betraying his surprise. Before he could respond, a few stray water droplets from his damp hair splashed onto you, drawing a squeal from your lips.
"Oh no! Angel, I'm so sorry!" he stammered, hastily brushing at your sleeve, his genuine concern making you laugh. He held the golden egg tightly, now safely shut after his latest round of inspections. "But seriously, what are you doing here? You'll be in trouble if anyone finds you sneaking into the prefect's bathroom!"
You snorted, though your heart melted at the way his brows knitted with worry. "Well, I could say the same for you, Yuyu. You're not a prefect either," you quipped with a grin.
He chuckled, the sound echoing in the steamy room as he swam closer to where you sat at the edge of the bath, your legs lazily dangling in the water. Gently, he set the golden egg beside you, then rested his arms on your thighs, gazing up at you with a playful smirk.
"The difference is, I'm a Triwizard Champion," he teased, his grin widening, "and you're not."
Rolling your eyes, you booped his nose with a finger, earning a soft laugh from him. "True, I'm not," you replied, sticking your tongue out cheekily. "But I am your girlfriend, so that grants me a special privilege, doesn't it?"
Yunho's gaze softened as he beamed up at you, water glistening on his face like tiny jewels. "Yeah," he murmured, his voice warm and affectionate. "It definitely does."
With a tender smile, you reached out to brush the water from his face, gently pushing his damp hair back from his eyes. Your heart skipped a beat when he instinctively leaned into your touch, his warmth grounding you despite the growing tension in your chest.
"You haven't answered me yet," you reminded him softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "Have you figured out the answer to the second task?"
He nodded, his hand lifting to cover yours on his cheek, holding it in place as though it anchored him. He gave your fingers a soft, reassuring squeeze. "I have," he murmured, his gaze meeting yours with a quiet intensity. "But... I don't want you to freak out. Everything's going to be okay, I promise."
Despite his comforting tone, the knot in your stomach tightened. You tried to mask it with a cheeky smile, nudging him lightly with your foot in the water. "Suuure, Yuyu. I totally believe you when you say these tasks will get easier. I mean, it's not like the first one involved dragons or anything."
Your boyfriend sighed, a bittersweet smile tugging at his lips. You knew he was thinking about the moment his name had been announced as the Hogwarts champion—the wave of fear that had gripped you as the Great Hall erupted in cheers.
He had submitted his name on a whim, more as a joke than anything. He hadn't thought for a second he'd actually be chosen. But of course, you should've known better. He was Jung Yunho—the school's golden boy. Everyone adored him, from his endless optimism to his natural charm. He could light up any room he walked into and never turned away anyone in need. His wild card selection had shocked everyone, but he had embraced it with the same unshakable enthusiasm he brought to everything in life.
For him, the Triwizard Tournament was an adventure, a chance to make memories and new friends. For you, it was a constant worry. You knew the dangers far too well, and it terrified you. Still, when he had emerged victorious after the first task, his joy had been contagious, and you told yourself you had to let your fear go. You couldn't hold him back from greatness. He needed your support, and you were determined to be the girlfriend he deserved.
Leaning forward, you pressed a quick kiss to his lips, hoping it would reassure him as much as it did you. "Alright," you whispered, brushing your thumb along his jaw. "So tell me. What's the second task?"
Before you could pull away, he held onto you, wrapping an arm around your waist and resting his forehead against yours. His voice softened, steady but laced with a vulnerability he rarely showed.
"The Black Lake," he said quietly. "I... I have a feeling I'm going to need you to get through this task."
His words sent a shiver down your spine, but the conviction in his eyes made you hold your ground. Whatever this task demanded, you knew one thing for sure: you'd face it together.
And his predictions couldn't have been more accurate—he and the champions from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons had an hour to retrieve something that had been stolen from them from the merpeople's village beneath the Black Lake.
The lake was eerily silent, its surface shimmering under the overcast sky as Yunho broke through the water, gasping for air. His strong arms cradled you protectively, his chest rising and falling in rapid bursts. The tension that had gripped him since the start of the task finally began to ease now that you were safe in his embrace.
You coughed violently, expelling the icy water from your lungs, your breaths coming in sharp, shallow bursts. The fragments of what had happened began piecing themselves together in your mind—the haunting stillness of the underwater village, the muffled echo of water all around, and your boyfriend's words from the prefect's bathroom resurfacing with a jarring clarity: "I have a feeling I'm going to need you to get through this task."
He had been right.
The task wasn't just about retrieving an object of value—it was about recovering the most precious thing stolen from them.
For Yunho, that had been you.
"Oh thank god, you're alright," he murmured, his voice thick with relief as he guided you onto the shore. The cheers and applause from the crowd were a distant hum in the background, drowned out by the pounding of his heart. Grabbing a towel, he draped it over your shoulders, enveloping you in its warmth before pulling you close. His arms wrapped around you securely, as though anchoring you back to him and shielding you from the chill that clung to the air.
You pressed your forehead against his shoulder, his familiar scent grounding you amidst the chaos of the moment. Despite the lingering cold, a soft smile crept onto your lips. Your voice, though weak, carried an unwavering sincerity. "How could I not be? You'll always save me… my hero."
His grip on you tightened at your words, his heart swelling with emotion as he buried his face in your hair. "Always," he whispered, his voice steady but laced with the weight of his promise. "Now I understand how hard it is for you to worry about me. I promise I'll make it out alive, every time—for you."
The announcement of his second-place finish barely registered. Everything seemed insignificant in the face of what truly mattered. All that filled his mind was the undeniable fact that you were safe, right here in his arms—the one person he cared for most.
Yeosang ↠ Ravenclaw
The Annoying Ace
"Hey, Kang! What'd you get for Potions? There's no way you aced it this time—it was brutal, and you barely studied before the test," a fellow Ravenclaw called out, pulling Yeosang from his thoughts. He glanced up, a small, nonchalant smile gracing his lips as he held up his graded paper. "You're right, it was tough. I only got an A- this time."
The room fell silent. His classmates stared at him, their jaws nearly hitting the floor. Was he serious? Most of the class had barely scraped by, even after endless hours of revision. Seventh-year Potions was no joke, filled with the most complex and challenging formulas known to the wizarding world.
"Only an A-? Are you kidding me? Did you bribe the professor or something?" someone blurted out, their voice tinged with disbelief.
You, seated next to your boyfriend, shot them a sharp glare. "Say that again in front of Professor Slughorn. I dare you," you retorted, crossing your arms.
The student huffed indignantly, muttering under their breath. "Whatever. You probably cheated with Felix Felicis or something."
Before you could unleash another scathing comeback, Yeosang gently placed a hand on your shoulder, his calm demeanour soothing your rising temper. His ever-composed smile didn't waver as he addressed the accusation. "Well," he began, his voice light but laced with quiet confidence, "if we were skilled enough to brew the Liquid Luck flawlessly and effectively, wouldn't that alone prove we deserve our grades?"
The remark landed with perfect precision, leaving everyone speechless. They knew he had a point. Brewing the luck potion wasn't just difficult—it was borderline impossible for most, requiring six months of meticulous preparation and risking catastrophic failure if done even slightly wrong.
The room buzzed with unspoken thoughts. If you and Yeosang could pull off such a feat, would the Potions exam have been challenging for either of you?
Your lips quirked into a satisfied smile as you exchanged a glance with your boyfriend. That was just like him—always shutting down his doubters with quiet brilliance, never needing to raise his voice to prove his worth.
"Man, I really need to learn how to be as effortlessly cool as you," you teased, giving his shoulder a playful nudge as he led you by the hand out of the classroom and toward the courtyard for some fresh air.
He glanced at you, his usual relaxed grin softening into something fonder. "You're already the coolest person to me," he replied casually as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Your cheeks warmed instantly, and you lightly smacked his arm, looking away as you bit your lip to hide the spreading blush. Even now, you could hardly believe he had accepted your confession back then—and that he was now your boyfriend. To you, he had always seemed so distant, so untouchable, like a star out of reach.
That was, until the day he noticed you struggling with a potion after class and offered to help. You hadn't known it at the time, but that small moment of kindness would lead to something far greater.
Yeosang is that Ravenclaw—the one who always seems lost in his thoughts yet somehow aces every test with ease, charming every professor in the process. He's the envy of his classmates, who burn the midnight oil studying while he effortlessly secures perfect scores. His calm, almost ethereal demeanour only adds to the intrigue, making him a bit of a mystery to everyone around him.
No one can figure out how he manages to zone out during Potions lessons and still brew flawless draughts, but they're too in awe (and slightly frustrated) to ask. It's just him—an enigma wrapped in quiet confidence, and somehow, he was yours.
"But seriously, Yeo, have you actually managed to perfect your luck potion? Don't think I didn't notice Professor Slughorn sneaking glances your way. He really did trust you to brew some for him, didn't he?" you asked, leaning your head against his shoulder, fingers gently squeezing his where they were intertwined with yours.
He hummed softly, the sound vibrating against you as he rested his head atop yours. With a flick of his wand, he cast a subtle charm to deflect a stray prank from a group of cheeky Gryffindors playing with products from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. The spell stopped the flying object just before it could land anywhere near you. Your heart fluttered at his nonchalant protectiveness, and you couldn't help but notice the envious sighs from a few girls nearby.
"I'll answer that," he murmured, his tone teasing, "when you tell me how you managed to brew such a flawless Amortentia draught."
You blinked, lifting your head to meet his gaze. "The love potion? What are you talking about? I've never even tried to make one."
A small smile tugged at his lips, and he reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "Are you sure about that?"
You furrowed your brows, your confusion deepening. "Yes, I'm sure," you replied, your tone laced with scepticism. But before you could press him further, he leaned in and stole a quick kiss, leaving you gasping softly in surprise. Your hand flew to your lips, cheeks aflame as you tried to process what just happened.
Yeosang chuckled at your flustered reaction, his arm slipping securely around your back as he guided you to keep walking. "Then explain how you managed to make me so hopelessly enamoured with you," he said, his voice low but teasing. "It's the only logical explanation for how smitten I am."
"Oh, obviously. That's the only logical explanation," you burst out laughing, playfully trying to push him away, but he held firm, his grip steady yet gentle.
He chuckled along with you, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head. "Exactly, my love. You've clearly bewitched me, and I have no intention of breaking free."
"The feeling's mutual, my darling genius."
San ↠ Slytherin
The Intimidating Head Boy Who's Secretly a Softie
"Oh, come on, Pumpkin! When will you learn to leave the Monster Book of Monsters alone?!" San groaned in exasperation, his eyes following his mischievous cat as it darted around, narrowly avoiding the snapping Care of Magical Creatures textbook that was now chasing it across the yard. The naughty feline had somehow managed to unclasp the book—again. "Come here, you stubborn little thing!" he called, swooping in to scoop up the cat.
With practised ease, he approached the wild book, stroking its spine gently until it calmed and locked itself shut, just as Hagrid had taught. Of course, San was probably the only one who had actually paid attention to that particular lesson.
A dramatic gasp caught his attention, and he turned to find you standing nearby, a teasing grin plastered across your face.
"Well well, who would've thought? The scary and intimidating Choi San names his cat Pumpkin? And a cat, no less? I always pictured you with an owl or a crow. Guess you're a softie after all. Wait till the rest of the house finds out."
He rolled his eyes but smirked, settling back into his seat behind Hagrid's hut. "Go ahead and tell them, sweetheart. It's not like I asked anyone to see me as the 'mean and cold Slytherin.' If they want to believe that, then that's on them."
You chuckled and took a seat beside him, watching as he cooed at his cat and peppered it with kisses. "So, what's a big bad boy like you doing out here, hm?"
"Detention, obviously," he deadpanned, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Fits my reputation, doesn't it?"
You shook your head knowingly, the corner of your lips curling upward. "If that's what you're calling it, sure. But Hagrid told me you were out here for some extra lessons on Hippogriffs when I passed him earlier."
He feigned a pout, resting his chin on Pumpkin's head. "Damn, you caught me. There goes my big bad boy image. Boohoo."
You burst out laughing, unable to hold it in.
San had always been an enigma to those around him. With his sharp, commanding presence and role as Head Boy, he had a reputation for being unapproachable. First-years practically scrambled out of his way in the corridors. But those who dared get to know him soon discovered that beneath the piercing gaze and confident swagger was a playful, caring soul who adored magical creatures.
And you? You were supposedly his rival—his female counterpart, according to your peers. With your equally composed demeanour and role as Head Girl, it wasn't uncommon for people to pit the two of you against each other. But those who looked closer would've seen the truth: you were far from rivals. If anything, you were two halves of the same warm, hidden flame, especially when it came to each other.
"Well, I hope you don't mind me joining you on your little detention, Choi," you teased, leaning your head against his shoulder.
He hummed thoughtfully, nuzzling his head against yours. "On one condition."
"And what's that?" you glanced up at him.
He bit his lip, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Let me take you to Hogsmeade this weekend, Head Girl."
"Alright, alright. None of that in my class," Hagrid's booming voice cut through the moment, startling both of you as you quickly pulled apart, clearing your throats in unison.
San shifted awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck while you tried—and failed—to suppress a laugh.
Hagrid folded his massive arms across his chest, his bushy eyebrows raised knowingly. "We're only doing this if you're both serious, okay? This isn't some fun little date idea."
You nodded earnestly, though the corners of your lips twitched with amusement. "Of course, Professor. We're serious about this."
But Hagrid wasn't done.
Turning his attention to the Head Boy, he added, "But please, do take her to Hogsmeade, lad. I've heard more than enough from you about how much you like her."
San's eyes widened, his cheeks instantly flushing a deep crimson. "H-Hagrid!" he stammered, his voice a pitch higher than usual.
You couldn't hold it in anymore, bursting into laughter as he glared at you half-heartedly. "Oh, you're never living this down," you teased, nudging his arm.
"I—uh—yes, sir," he mumbled, his voice barely audible as he stared down at the ground, clearly flustered.
The professor chuckled, giving a hearty clap to the young man's shoulder that nearly made him stumble. "That's what I like to hear, Choi. Now, back to work, both of you. Those Hippogriffs aren't going to train themselves."
As Hagrid lumbered away, you leaned closer to San, grinning. "So, how much do you like me, Choi San?"
He groaned, his hands covering his face. "Can we just focus on the Hippogriffs?"
"Not a chance," you replied smugly, your laughter ringing out as his ears turned an even brighter shade of red.
The journey back to the common room was filled with quiet comfort, but as you both stepped through the entrance, his demeanour shifted instantly. Gone was the flustered boy from earlier; in his place stood the stoic and commanding Head Boy, his sharp gaze sweeping over the lounging students.
"Keep it down," he said curtly to a group of rowdy second-years, his tone leaving no room for argument. They immediately quieted, murmuring apologies.
You bit back a smile, watching his transformation with newfound amusement. After seeing the playful, gentle side of him during the lesson with Hagrid, this intimidating persona of his now seemed more endearing than imposing. It was his way of keeping the chaos in check, and you couldn't help but admire how effortlessly he switched between the two sides of himself.
As you trailed behind him, snippets of hushed whispers reached your ears.
"Did they come back together?"
"Isn't that the Head Girl?"
"Are they… you know?"
You glanced at San and caught the slight gulp he tried to conceal, his stiff posture giving away his unease despite his poker face.
When you both reached the point where the dorms split, you turned to him, raising an eyebrow. He stood tall, keeping his expression neutral, though you could see the faintest flicker of nervousness in his eyes. The room fell silent, the curious gazes of your housemates fixed on the two of you.
You smirked, breaking the tension. "So, Hogsmeade this weekend, right?"
His eyes widened, and a soft gasp rippled through the common room. He cleared his throat, trying to maintain his composure as he met your gaze. "You… accept?"
You shrugged nonchalantly, though the playful glint in your eyes betrayed your amusement. "Well, you did say I could only join you earlier if I agreed to this. Seeing as we've already finished the lesson, that clearly means I've accepted, no?"
For a moment, his carefully constructed mask faltered, replaced by a grin so wide and boyish that it made your heart skip a beat. He didn't care about the whispers anymore as he stepped closer, his hand reaching out to give yours a gentle squeeze.
"It's a date then, Head Girl."
You smiled back, your voice light but teasing as you replied, "Sounds good, Head Boy."
The room erupted into murmurs and low cheers as you turned and walked toward your dorm, feeling his gaze follow you until you disappeared from sight. If San had been worried about his reputation before, it was clear now that he didn't care.
Not when it came to you.
Mingi ↠ Ravenclaw
The Son of a Famous Wizard Scientist
"Going somewhere, Song?"
Mingi cursed under his breath, reluctantly pulling the invisibility cloak off his frame to face you. You sat casually in one of the Ravenclaw common room chairs, a book in hand and an amused smirk playing on your lips. He looked thoroughly defeated. "How do you always figure me out?"
You chuckled, closing your book and setting it aside as you straightened up. "It's not that hard with your lack of stealth. I feel the breeze every time you pass by. Honestly, the real mystery is how Filch hasn't caught you yet."
He crossed his arms with a huff, a pout forming on his lips. "Ugh, what's it gonna take for you to pretend you didn't see me? My dad cannot find out. Name your price."
You tapped your chin, standing to your full height and eyeing the Marauder's Map in his hands. "I want in on whatever you're up to."
His brows shot up in surprise. "You? But aren't you like... the model Ravenclaw? Goody two shoes, follows every rule, reads for fun? Why would you risk your squeaky-clean image for something like this?"
You shrugged, a mischievous glint in your eye. "Let's just say I'm curious about what the great wizard scientist's son is always sneaking off to do instead of, I don't know, living up to everyone's—and your father's—expectations."
He sighed in defeat, lifting his left arm to gesture for you to join him under the cloak. "Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you. Just make sure you can keep up. And for Merlin's sake, please tell me your stealth skills are better than mine. You really don't want to run into Mrs. Norris."
"Trust me, I wouldn't dream of it," you replied, ducking under the cloak with him, your heart racing at the prospect of finally joining him on one of his adventures.
And so, that night marked the beginning of an unlikely yet thrilling partnership: you and Song Mingi, partners-in-crime navigating Hogwarts past curfew.
For someone as studious and rule-abiding as you, it was a surprising twist to find yourself sneaking through hidden passageways, clutching an invisibility cloak, and dodging prefects alongside someone like Mingi. But there was something irresistibly intriguing about him—the way he effortlessly balanced his rebellious streak with a sharp intellect, and how his lighthearted demeanour contrasted with the heavy expectations placed upon him.
You see, unlike your ordinary self, his life was all about finding his own path despite the pressures of his family name. As the son of a renowned wizarding scientist, expectations for him to follow in those illustrious footsteps were high. But Mingi? He wasn't interested in being defined by anyone else's legacy.
Sure, he had the smarts for it—his insights into magical theories often surprised you, even when they were thrown in casually during one of your late-night escapades. But instead of shouldering the weight of those expectations, he found joy in simply being himself. He explored magic for the sake of curiosity, not obligation.
Of course, it was hard for someone like him to truly fly under the radar. With his tall frame and infectious laugh, he had a knack for drawing attention no matter how much he tried to avoid it. He'd always play it off with an easy grin, though—effortlessly charming his way out of trouble (well, most of the time).
And now, here you were, walking beside him in the dead of night, laughing softly at his whispered commentary about the portraits on the walls. It was a side of him most people didn't see—carefree, thoughtful, and incredibly warm.
"Alright, where to next, partner?" you asked, barely containing your grin as you reached a fork in the corridor.
He glanced at the map, his finger tracing a path. "A secret stash of sweets hidden near the kitchens. Wanna check it out?"
"Only if you're willing to share," you teased, bumping his shoulder lightly.
He smirked, holding the cloak open as you ducked beneath it again. "Deal. But only because I need you to distract the house elves if we get caught."
With that, the two of you disappeared into the night, laughter echoing softly down the empty hallways. It was the start of a friendship, and perhaps something more that, against all odds, just worked.
On one of the slower days at school, the two of you lounged in the Great Hall, a wizard's chessboard between you. The usual hum of scattered conversations and the clinking of goblets provided a quiet backdrop as Mingi hunched over the board, his tall frame bent in concentration. His eyes darted between pieces, plotting his next move with a focus that made you smirk.
"I've got an idea," you said, leaning back with a teasing grin. "Whoever loses has to take on a dare during tonight's adventure."
His head shot up, a glimmer of intrigue lighting up his eyes. He grinned, his expression a mix of mischief and admiration for the rebellious streak you seemed to save just for him. "Oh, it's on."
The match stretched out with calculated moves and sly counters, both of you pouring focus into claiming victory. But when your queen finally cornered his king, you leaned back with a triumphant grin. "Checkmate," you declared, watching the realisation dawn on his face.
He groaned theatrically, throwing his head back. "Noooo!"
You laughed, folding your arms smugly. "Now, about that dare..."
He straightened in his seat, narrowing his eyes as he tried to guess your plan. "Alright, hit me with your worst."
A mischievous gleam danced in your eyes as you leaned forward and whispered, "Tonight, when we sneak out, you have to charm Moaning Myrtle with your best pickup lines."
His jaw dropped, his ears turning an amusing shade of red. "You want me to flirt with a ghost?!"
"That's the dare," you said, grinning wider.
He blinked at you in disbelief, then let out a booming laugh, shaking his head. "You're insane. But fine—a deal's a deal."
As the two of you packed up, you noticed a flicker of something softer in his gaze. He clearly enjoyed this side of you, the playful daring you didn't often let others see.
The night was quiet as you snuck through the dark hallways, huddled beneath the invisibility cloak. The close proximity made it impossible to ignore the way your shoulders brushed, or how you could feel his breath softly against your ear as he whispered directions. You tried to focus, but the warmth radiating from him and the faint smell of his cologne made it difficult.
He wasn't faring any better. His movements felt unusually cautious, his arm brushing against yours more often than necessary, his voice a little lower than usual when he whispered, "Careful where you step."
Ironically, it was his warning that broke your concentration. Your foot landed on something uneven, and before you could stop yourself, you tripped, sending a potted plant toppling from its perch.
The crash echoed loudly through the corridor. "What was that?!" Filch's voice screeched in the distance, sending panic shooting through you both.
"Move!" Mingi hissed, grabbing your hand and pulling you into the nearest room. The door creaked shut just as the school caretaker's hurried footsteps grew louder.
You realised, to your dismay, that the "room" was a cramped broom cupboard. The two of you were squished together in the small space, the invisibility cloak still draped awkwardly over your heads. Your breathing was ragged from the sudden sprint, and you both struggled to keep quiet as Filch's grumbling grew nearer.
"Stupid kids sneaking around… I'll catch them sooner or later," he muttered as his footsteps faded in the opposite direction.
Only when the sound of his boots disappeared entirely did you dare to speak. "We're safe now," you whispered.
"Yeah," Mingi murmured back, his voice quieter than usual.
That's when you noticed just how close you were. Your heart stuttered as you looked up, your nose grazing his. His dark eyes locked onto yours, and you could feel his breath, warm and shallow, mingling with your own. Neither of you moved, the air between you was charged and heavy.
He swallowed hard, his hand slowly brushing against yours beneath the cloak. "I know I lost the game," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "But... is it alright if I flirt with someone else tonight?"
Your breath caught, your thoughts spinning as he leaned in closer, his lips barely brushing yours.
"That depends on who it is," you whispered back, your voice shaky.
He smiled softly, his eyes flicking between yours and your lips. "You."
Your heart skipped a beat. Without thinking, your hand slid up to grip the collar of his shirt as you murmured, "Fine."
Then, closing the final distance, you pressed your lips to his. When you finally pulled away, the world felt different as you stayed close, foreheads touching. He let out a soft chuckle, his thumb brushing over your cheek. "Best dare I've ever lost."
You smiled. "Guess I'll have to keep challenging you then, Song."
"Guess you will," he whispered, leaning in for another kiss.
Wooyoung ↠ Gryffindor
The Talented Quidditch Beater
"Woo, you got it! That's my boy!"
The sound of your voice rang out across the pitch, instantly catching Wooyoung's attention. A grin lit up his face as he turned mid-flight on his Nimbus 2000, his eyes sparkling as they met yours.
"I'll make you proud, babe!" he called back, his tone brimming with confidence.
"Not if you can't keep your eyes on the game," his teammate—another Beater—shouted, swooping in just in time to deflect a bludger barreling toward him.
His eyes widened at the close call before a sheepish, boyish grin spread across his face. "Thanks, mate. That was a little too close!"
He turned his attention back to you, throwing you a playful wink and blowing a kiss in your direction. "Love you," he mouthed with a quick smirk, clearly revelling in the way your worried gaze softened into a smile.
And then, just like that, he was off again, zooming across the pitch like the fearless champ he was, ready to win not just for his team, but for the person cheering him on from the stands.
Pride swelled in your chest like a warm, unrelenting tide as you watched your boyfriend play. It was almost surreal to think about how far the two of you had come—especially since there was a time when you couldn't stand him.
Back then, Jung Wooyoung was everything you couldn't tolerate: loud, attention-seeking, and constantly wreaking havoc with his pranks. He was the popular Gryffindor Quidditch star with a magnetic grin, always surrounded by friends and admirers. Meanwhile, you were his polar opposite—a shy, studious student with no interest in shenanigans, focused solely on excelling in your studies and making your parents proud.
It all started when one of his pranks nearly ruined your Transfiguration assignment. Furious, you'd confronted him in front of half the common room, calling him reckless and immature. Wooyoung, never one to back down, had retaliated with a smirk, calling you boring and stiff. That marked the beginning of your rivalry—petty remarks, pointed glares, and intentionally getting on each other's nerves became routine.
But everything changed the day he overheard a group of Slytherins mocking you. Their cruel taunts about your Muggle heritage—and the word "Mudblood" slicing through the air—left you reeling. Before you could even muster a response, he stepped in, his usual playful demeanour replaced by something sharp and unyielding.
"What did you just say?" he demanded, his voice low and dangerous. The bullies faltered under his glare, and though they tried to brush it off, he didn't let them escape unscathed. He stood firm, defending you with a conviction that left you stunned.
From that day on, the dynamic between you shifted. He made it clear that no one was to mess with you—not even his own friends, who had occasionally targeted you with harmless pranks. In return, you stopped berating him for his antics, accepting that his mischief was simply part of who he was. Over time, you found yourself laughing at his jokes, and he discovered a softer side to you that few others had ever seen.
Years passed, and that fragile truce evolved into friendship. Somewhere along the way, the friendship blossomed into something deeper, something neither of you could ignore. And now, here you were, standing in the Gryffindor stands, cheering him on with every fibre of your being.
Only after being with him did you truly understand why so many adored him for his talent. On the pitch, he was in his element. As a Beater, he thrived on adrenaline, his bat swinging with precision as he sent a bludger hurtling toward the opposing team. He was a natural showman, hyping up the crowd with daring plays and cheeky winks. Though his mischievous nature was ever-present, he became fiercely competitive during matches, his focus unshakable when it came to leading his house to victory.
You smiled as he executed a flawless manoeuvre, his laughter echoing across the pitch when the crowd erupted into cheers. He was so different from the boy you had once disliked, yet so quintessentially the same. His charm, his energy, his ability to make everyone around him feel alive—it was impossible not to love him for it.
"Watch this, babe!" he called as he rocketed past the stands, his grin wide and unrestrained. He was a whirlwind of passion and joy, and he was yours. And somehow, you wouldn't have it any other way.
"Aaaand Gryffindor wins!"
The roar of the crowd filled the stadium as the Gryffindor Seeker triumphantly held up the golden snitch, the tiny wings glinting under the bright sun. Cheers echoed through the stands, Gryffindor flags waving wildly in celebration. You cheered, knowing that much of this victory was thanks to your boyfriend, who had spent the game clearing the path for his teammate with skilful swings of his bat.
Amid the chaos, Wooyoung's sharp eyes immediately sought you out. Despite the throng of screaming fans and his own teammates clamouring to celebrate, all he could see was you. Without hesitation, he veered his broom in your direction, ignoring the unmistakable warning glare from Professor McGonagall.
Hovering in front of you, he flashed his signature grin, his chest rising and falling from the adrenaline of the match. Before you could say a word, he leaned in and kissed you, his lips warm and slightly chapped from the cold wind. The crowd's cheers seemed to fade as you felt his smile against your own, your cheeks heating with the realisation of how public this display was.
When you pulled away, your voice was barely above a whisper. "That's enough, Woo. You don't want detention now, do you?"
He laughed, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I wouldn't mind it if you were there too." With a wink, he flew off to join his team, leaving you blinking sheepishly under Professor McGonagall's sharp gaze.
You cleared your throat, attempting to smooth down your robes as you mumbled, "Sorry, Professor."
To your surprise, her expression softened, and she gestured for you to walk with her as the stands began to empty. "Don't be," she said, her voice measured but kind. "You're a good motivator for him. We appreciate it. I won't lie and say our victories haven't increased since you came into the picture."
Her words left you blushing furiously as you followed her down the steps. Did that mean even she shipped you and Wooyoung? The very thought had you hiding a bashful smile behind your scarf, the cheers of the Gryffindor team still ringing in your ears.
Jongho ↠ Slytherin
The Scary Prefect Who Commands Respect
"There he is! Shhh, keep it down!"
Your friends scrambled to settle into their seats, hastily lowering their voices and pretending to focus on the books in front of them. You followed their lead, keeping your head down as the most intimidating prefect of Slytherin entered the library. Choi Jongho's very name was enough to make most students sit up straight, and his imposing presence only amplified that effect. His silence carried more weight than words ever could, commanding obedience and respect effortlessly.
You swallowed hard, trying to concentrate on the text in front of you, but your focus wavered the moment his footsteps stopped—right beside you. Your heart raced as you eyed his polished shoes, unsure if you'd done something wrong. Too nervous to meet his gaze, you froze in place, waiting for whatever came next.
"Here. I think you dropped this," he said, his voice low yet unexpectedly warm.
Your eyes widened at the gentle tone, and you glanced up to see him holding out your late father's pocket watch. The faintest trace of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips—so fleeting you wondered if you'd imagined it.
"O-oh, thank you," you stammered, taking the cherished item from him. A spark shot through you when your fingers brushed against his, leaving your heart fluttering in a way you hadn't anticipated.
"You're welcome," he replied simply, his voice kind yet measured, before continuing on his patrol.
As you watched him walk away, a realisation settled in your mind—perhaps he wasn't as fearsome as everyone claimed.
Jongho's reputation was well-earned. As a Slytherin prefect, he didn't need to raise his voice to maintain order. A single stern look was enough to make any student think twice about misbehaving, and his word was as final as it was rare. Yet, those who truly knew him understood there was more to him than his intimidating exterior. Beneath the cool, composed demeanour was a steadfast friend with a laugh that could shatter his usual seriousness in an instant.
And soon, you would become one of the few to witness that softer side of him—though, for now, you had no idea what lay ahead.
It was on a particularly eerie evening that you would come to learn the truth. The air hung heavy with an unsettling stillness as you wandered along the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest, seeking solitude to clear your mind after a gruelling week. The low-hanging clouds cloaked the forest in shadows, and the quiet seemed almost too oppressive.
But peace was the last thing you found.
A low, menacing growl rippled through the trees, stopping you dead in your tracks. Your breath caught as you turned, your wand trembling in your hand, to face a pair of glowing eyes cutting through the darkness.
A werewolf.
Your heart pounded wildly as the creature advanced, its snarling lips curling back to reveal rows of sharp teeth. Panic seized you. You tried to cast a spell, but fear made your movements clumsy, and the incantation faltered on your tongue. The werewolf snarled again, its deadly intent unmistakable.
You were sure you were doomed.
Suddenly, a thunderous roar shattered the tense silence, startling both you and the beast. From the shadows emerged a massive bear, its fur bristling and eyes blazing with an otherworldly fury. The bear wasted no time, charging at the werewolf with raw power and unmatched ferocity.
Their clash was brutal and swift, the werewolf no match for the bear's strength and determination. Before long, the defeated creature limped off into the safety of the forest, leaving you frozen in place, trembling from head to toe.
The bear turned its attention to you, its intelligent gaze locking onto yours. Despite your fear, there was something strangely familiar in the way it looked at you—almost protective.
And then, to your utter disbelief, the bear began to shift. Its enormous form shrank, fur receding as its features morphed into something distinctly human. In a matter of moments, you found yourself staring at Choi Jongho, his sharp eyes unwavering as they met yours.
"You…" The word barely escaped your lips, your voice a mere whisper. "You're an animagus?"
His jaw tightened briefly before he nodded. "Yes," he admitted, his tone steady but quiet.
You blinked, your mind racing to process what you had just witnessed. It wasn't just the transformation that left you reeling—it was the way he had risked himself to save you. "Why didn't you tell anyone?" you finally managed.
He let out a soft sigh, running a hand through his hair. For the first time, you saw the stoic facade crack, revealing something raw beneath. "People already think I'm intimidating enough," he said, his voice laced with vulnerability. "If they knew I could turn into a bear, they'd see me as a monster. Even if I chose this form to protect, not harm."
Your chest tightened at his words, at the loneliness he must have carried. His stern demeanour suddenly made sense—it was a shield, a way to keep others from seeing the parts of himself he feared they wouldn't understand.
"But it's not a bad thing," you said softly, taking a step closer. "You became an animagus for a noble reason. That says more about who you are than anything else."
His gaze softened, the hard lines of his face easing just slightly. "I appreciate that," he murmured. "But not everyone would see it the same way. People fear what they don't understand."
For the first time, you saw through the intimidating exterior everyone else feared. Beneath it all, he was just someone who cared deeply, someone who bore the weight of his secrets quietly for the sake of those around him.
"Thank you for saving me," you said earnestly, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside you. "Your secret's safe with me. I promise."
He nodded, the faintest smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "It's my pleasure," he replied, his tone warm yet reserved. "Now, you should get back. It's not safe out here."
"And you?"
"I'll make sure the forest is clear," he assured you, his protective instincts shining through. "Go. I'll be right behind you."
As you made your way back to the castle, your mind was consumed with thoughts of Jongho. The boy who had just saved your life was so much more than the fearsome prefect everyone believed him to be. And now, you carried a piece of his truth, a secret that revealed a depth to him you never would have imagined.
From then on, something shifted.
You became one of the few who dared to hold his gaze, the rare recipient of his fleeting smiles. Where others saw the intimidating Slytherin prefect, you saw the quiet strength and vulnerability he kept hidden beneath the surface. And nothing shocked people more than seeing him sit next to you at breakfast in the Great Hall.
Whispers rippled through the tables, curious and incredulous alike. Choi Jongho, the stoic and fearsome prefect, sitting with someone? A girl? The novelty was enough to turn heads, but what truly caught people's attention was the way he looked at you.
There was something unmistakable in his eyes—a quiet affection, soft and unguarded, as if your presence unravelled the walls he so carefully maintained.
He glanced over at you as you finished your meal, his expression relaxed yet tinged with curiosity. "Where are you headed after this?" he asked, his tone casual but attentive.
You wiped your hands with a napkin, smiling up at him. "The Duelling Club."
His eyebrows rose in mild surprise. "The Duelling Club? But why?"
You bit back a laugh at his incredulity, placing your fork down with an amused shake of your head. "Because someone with a very admirable trait has inspired me," you said, your voice warm with sincerity. "To be stronger, to protect those around me too."
The words caught him off guard, and you watched as his usual composure faltered. He blinked, a faint flush creeping up his neck and into his cheeks. The sight was endearing, a rare glimpse of boyishness in the otherwise composed prefect.
He cleared his throat awkwardly, reaching for his goblet of pumpkin juice and taking a long sip as if it might steady him. Setting it down, he muttered softly, "You don't have to." His eyes flickered to yours, vulnerable but earnest. "You'll always have me."
Your chest warmed at his words, his quiet promise resonating deeply. He might have been the boy feared by many, but to you, he was simply someone who cared more deeply than he let on.
You leaned forward slightly, a teasing smile playing on your lips. "I know," you said, your voice gentle but firm. "But it doesn't hurt to know how to hold my own, does it?"
He exhaled a quiet chuckle, the corner of his lips curving upward in a rare but genuine smile. "Fair enough," he conceded, his gaze lingering on yours for a moment longer before turning back to his plate. "But I'm coming with."
Any fellow Potterheads here? Humour this poor author and tell me about your Hogwarts house, your favourite Harry Potter book/movie as well as your favourite character! Most importantly, let me know if you agree with the houses I've sorted the members into!
Hope you enjoyed this! As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3
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#edenesth#ateez as hogwarts students#ateez#ateez fanfic#ateez fanfiction#hogwarts au#harry potter au#kim hongjoong#park seonghwa#jung yunho#jeong yunho#kang yeosang#choi san#song mingi#jung wooyoung#choi jongho#hongjoong x reader#seonghwa x reader#yunho x reader#yeosang x reader#san x reader#mingi x reader#wooyoung x reader#jongho x reader#ateez imagines#ateez fic
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Random headcanons of Alastor and his child!reader
This will mix headcanons from both the living and the afterliving times.
Tw: Controlling behavior, implied cannibalism, references to murder.
This is not proof read so I apologize for any grammar and vocabulary mistakes.
Your home is always filled with music. Be it the radio, a record player or him singing. There's always someone playing a tune. Even now at the hotel you can always find him in one of the common rooms humming a song or with his cathedral radio on.
Loves dancing with you, you'll be helping him cook and next thing you know he is swirling you around the room, music mixing with your combined laughter.
From a very young age, he will teach you to love the radio. He is immensely proud of his job (the legal one) and wants to share it with you.
Likes to treat your wounds and illness the traditional way, just like he used to when you were alive. You got a scratch? He is cleaning it for you and bandaging it up. You are down with something? He'll wrap you in blankets with a hot water bottle and feed you old family remedies and warm soup. If the wound or illness is way too severe to his liking, he will immediately make it go away with a snap of his fingers, otherwise he just likes to act like your caregiver and mother hen you.
Really loves to pull the 'single hardworking dad' act that makes the mothers and female teachers at your school swoon. He is not really interested in pursuing anything further with them, but boy, does he enjoy the attention.
He likes to check on you while you are sleeping. Sometimes he just stays there, quietly watching you sleep, his ever present smile growing bigger as a sense of pride fills his chest.
Lots of dad jokes, I think he's the only one who could pull it off and have everyone laugh. It goes with his radio host charisma and personality.
He does your hair. This man has singlehandledly researched and become well versed in the art of braiding hair. Braids, pigtails, or just brush it, you call it, you got it.
Alastor loves control and having power over people, he is the kind of dad that will subtly talk you out of doing something he doesn't approve of, just using his inmense charms and smooth talking skills to convince you into thinking this was your decision after doing some critical thinking. "Cher, I don't think you should do X, how about you do Y instead?" "I'm sure your friend is too busy to hang out today, why don't we go to the ice cream shop?" He won't ever put you down or make you feel bad about anything, but if you are deviating for the path that he has already set for you (the safe path) he will immediately persuade you to go back to the right way, his way. In Hell that aspect of him has become a million times worse, since he has already lost you once and has become someone with many dangerous enemies who wouldn't hesitate to use you to get back at him. His overprotectiveness and controlling behavior skyrocket when he becomes a demon, which eventually will come back to bite him in the ass.
Doesn't like having anyone question about your biological parents. He is your parent. You don't need anybody else.
Alastor is not fond of physical affection, unless he is the one initiating it. But, since he has had you since you were a baby, he has mostly grown used to your touch. He has become proficient enough in detecting your moods that he knows exactly when you are going to need a hug, a kiss or some other kind of physical comfort, so he can get ahead and start the contact first. He admits that one of his favorite ways nowadays to show affection to you is ruffling your fluffy hair, lightly tickling your ears, his eyes fill with joy when your ears get all twitchy.
Your room back at the hotel is a carbon copy of the one you had back when you were alive, but bigger, and with a private old timey bathroom. Alastor likes to come in whenever he pleases, he is the unliving embodiment of "I'm respecting your privacy by knocking but asserting my authority as your parent by coming in anyway". He even said so once. Word by word.
You can't stand Mimzy. Sorry, it's a fact, she always gets your name wrong and only comes by if she needs something from your dad. She seems to not be very fond of you either, can't understand why in Hell Alastor would waste his time so willingly just to take care of a snooty brat that ain't even his. But your father seems to like her enough, so you swallow up your critics.
When he was alive, and came back from a 'hunt', he always brought a little memorabilia for you, maybe some old watch, a fancy toy or trinket the victim had on them at that moment. Whatever little thing that wasn't too incriminating and pretty enough to be worthy of you. Now that you know the truth, you can't stop wondering with dread if every little thing he gifts you belonged once to a poor tormented soul that crossed in his path.
Might had fed you human remians in his stews. He utterly denies it, claiming that he would never do that to your delicate stomach. But the suspicious way his eyes quickly dart around the room, makes you think otherwise. It was the Great Depression after all, food was scarce. You'd rather not dwell too much on it or you will never eat anything ever again.
He is a monster, and it pained you to have been so blind all these years, but even after discovering his true nature, the only thing you could say about his parenting before that terrible night of the discovery, was that he was an excellent dad, a tad bit overbearing and overprotective, but a great parent nonetheless.
#alastor#hazbin hotel#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#tw: controlling behavior#tw: cannibalism#tw: murder
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Deal Announcement: WHEN THE TIDES HELD THE MOON (Erewhon, Spring 2025)
If you've been with me on Tumblr for a while, then you may already be familiar with this title and been waiting for this particular update, and all I can say is thank you endlessly for patiently sticking it out with me! I am so incredibly pleased to announce that WHEN THE TIDES HELD THE MOON has been acquired by Diana Pho at Erewhon Books/Kensington Publishing as an illustrated adult historical fantasy!
Tor.com has published a blush-inducing article which features some insights from me about what inspired the story, reactions from Hugo Award-winning editor Diana Pho on what drew her to the book, a downright tear-jerking endorsement from the incomparable TJ Klune, and my original concept art of Benny & Río. I hope you'll take a moment to read it at the link below!
This project is the culmination of a lifelong dream to write and illustrate my own books, and there are no words to convey the depth of my gratitude to Diana for the gift of seeing it be delivered as an illustrated adult work. Infinite thanks must also go to my unstoppable agent Saritza Hernandez, my phenomenal critique partners Anna Racine and Mark Duplane, and the many experts who generously and enthusiastically donated their time and resources in the middle of lockdown to help me bring 1911 Brooklyn, NY to life, including:
Virginia Sanchez-Korrol –– Professor Emeritus of Puerto Rican & Latino Studies, CUNY Brooklyn College
David Sharp -- President, The Waterfront Museum
Jamie Salen, David Favaloro, & Lana Rubin –– Marketing Director, Director of Curatorial Affairs, & Collections Manager (respectively), The Tenement Museum
Adam Realman -- Artistic Director, The Coney Island Circus Sideshow
More details about WTTHTM's release will be forthcoming, but in the meantime, thank you all again for believing in this story and supporting it when it was just a humble MerMay fic. I can't wait until you meet Benny and his beloved Río in print in 2025!
#wtthtm#benny and rio#brio!#when the tides held the moon#deal announcement#tj klune#erewhon books#kensington books
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So I finally caught some sleep (I woke up at 4 am, 20 minutes after the announcement, and slept a bit more after my last post announcing his passing).
First of all, this is going to be my panel: "See ya later guys, when you die we'll meet again!"
The hematoma that's mentioned in the statement announced in his passing implies a head injury (so perhaps he fell, perhaps something fell on his head, and the internal wound may have not be noticed)
The last artwork he did that was published was this new Sandland one to celebrate the upcoming series. It was revealed on March 4th, so after his passing. We don't know if it's the last artwork he did (he may have drawn this earlier and it was revealed later, who knows.
I'd also like to share some other statements, in no particular order:
Toyotaro's:
Masako Nozawa (Goku's VA) statement:
「コメントできる状況にございません」 -> "I am not in a position to comment."
(aka she was too shaken)
Nozawa update:
「信じたくない。考えたくないという気持ちで頭の中が空っぽです。それでも、お会いするたびに鳥山先生がおっしゃってくださった『悟空をお願いしますね』というお言葉を思い出すと、『私の命が尽きるまで悟空のそばにいよう』と気持ちを保つことが出来ます。先生、空から私たちを見守っていてください。どうか安らかな旅立ちでありますように。」 I don't want to believe. My mind is empty because I don't want to think about it. Still, every time we met, Toriyama-sensei said to me, "I'll take care of Goku for you, won't I?" When I remember your words, 'I will stay by Goku's side until my life is over,' I can keep my mind on it. Sensei, please watch over us from the sky. May you have a peaceful departure.
(Mayumi Tanaka, the voice of Krillin who was requested by Tori super early on will probably say something at some point too).
Oda (One Piece author) statement:
It is too early. The hole is too big. Sadness washes over me when I think that I will never see him again. I have admired him so much since I was a child, so I remember the day he called me by name for the first time. On the way home from the day you used the word "friend" for me and Kishimoto, I remember being overjoyed with Kishimoto. I also remember the last conversation we had. I was one of those who took the baton from the days when reading manga made you a fool, and he also created an era when both adults and children could enjoy reading manga. He showed us the dream that manga can go worldwide. It was like watching a hero going forward. For not only mangakas but also creators in various industries, the excitement and emotion of the time of Dragon Ball serialization must have taken root in their childhood. His existence is like a big tree. For the manga artists of our generation who stood on the same stage, Toriyama's works became more and more important to me as I got closer to the same stage. I even felt being scary. But I am just happy to see the aloof man himself again. Because we love him on a blood level. With respect and gratitude for the creative world he has left behind. I pray for his soulful rest in peace. May heaven be the joyous world he envisioned.
And Kishimoto's statement (the autho of Naruto)
To be honest, I don’t know what to write or how to write it. But right now, I want to tell Mr. Toriyama the things I always wanted to ask him and my feelings. I grew up with Mr. Toriyama’s manga, Dr. Slump in elementary school and Dragon Ball in high school. It was natural for me to have Mr. Toriyama’s manga next to me as a part of my life. Even when I was feeling down, the weekly Dragon Ball always made me forget about it. It was a salvation for me, a country boy with nothing to do. That’s how much I enjoyed Dragon Ball! When I was a college student, Dragon Ball, which had been a part of my life for so long, suddenly ended. I was overwhelmed by a tremendous sense of loss and didn’t know what to look forward to. But at the same time, it was an opportunity for me to realize from the bottom of my heart the greatness of Mr. Toriyama, who created Dragon Ball. I want to create a work like Mr. Toriyama’s! I want to be like Mr. Toriyama! As I chased after Mr. Toriyama, the sense of loss gradually disappeared. Because it was fun to create manga. By chasing after Mr. Toriyama, I was able to find new joy. Mr. Toriyama was always my compass. He was my inspiration. I may be bothering Mr. Toriyama, but I am grateful to him without permission. To me, he was a savior and a god of manga. When I first met him, I was so nervous that I couldn’t say a word. But as I met him more and more at the Tezuka Osamu Cultural Prize jury meeting, I was able to talk to him. I will never forget the time when I talked to him about how much fun Dragon Ball was, like a child with Oda-san, as Dragon Ball children, and how he smiled a little shyly. I just received the news of Mr. Toriyama’s death. I am overwhelmed by a tremendous sense of loss, even greater than when Dragon Ball ended… I don’t know how to deal with this hole in my heart yet. I can’t read my favorite Dragon Ball right now. I don’t even feel like I’m writing this text properly to Mr. Toriyama. Everyone in the world was still looking forward to Mr. Toriyama’s work. If one Dragon Ball wish really comes true… I’m sorry… It may be selfish, but I’m sad, Mr. Toriyama. Thank you, Mr. Akira Toriyama, for 45 years of wonderful work. And thank you very much for your hard work. To the bereaved family, I pray that you will find peace and comfort in the midst of your grief. I pray for the peaceful repose of the soul of Mr. Akira Toriyama.
And finally one of Toriyama's close friends Masakazu Katsura (Video Girl AI author) also had this to say:
I feel drained and unmotivated. I don’t want to write a comment like this. But I’ll write something. Once I start writing, I’ll have so much to say that it will probably turn into a long text, but I’ll try to keep it as short as possible. I apologize for the rambling, as my thoughts are still not in order. Looking back, all I have are fond memories of the times we spent together – whether it was visiting your house, having you stay over at mine, or going out on trips. Every time we talked on the phone, we would laugh so hard that we would get tired. You were a funny person. You were perverted, cute, sharp-tongued, and humble. We collaborated on some manga projects, which were also a lot of fun. But 99% of the time, we never talked about manga. As a manga artist, the gap between the way we saw things and our level of skill was too great, and I never really felt your greatness. I know it now. But when I was with you, I never felt it at all. That’s just the kind of person you were. That’s why I still can’t think of you as anything other than a friend, even though you were a great manga artist. Last summer, before I had surgery, you heard about it somewhere and sent me an email. It was really rare for you to send an email, and it was so full of concern for my health. We’ve been friends for 40 years, but that might have been the first time I felt such kindness from you. I thought it was going to snow. You know, you usually only talk about jokes or nonsense. What the hell, you shouldn’t be worried about other people, right? I called you a little before that, and I was feeling sick all over, so I said, “I’ll probably go first, so have a farewell party for me, Toriyama! And make sure you give a speech, because it’ll make me look good!” But you didn’t keep your promise. I really regret not calling you after you emailed me. I just can’t believe that I can’t talk to you on the phone for hours anymore. There are so many things I want to talk to you about. There are so many things I want to say. Even if you don’t care about what I have to say, you can just zone out like you always do. I just want to talk to you again. The last thing you said to me was “OK” in response to my email asking you to contact me again. That’s just not good enough. I’m so sad.
And the Dragon Quest LEGEND, Yuji Horii, too...
I am still filled with disbelief at the sudden news of Mr. Toriyama’s passing. I have known Mr. Toriyama since I was a writer for Weekly Shonen Jump. At the recommendation of my editor, Torishima-san, I decided to ask him to draw the illustrations for the game Dragon Quest when we were launching it. For over 37 years since then, he has drawn countless charming characters, including character designs and monster designs. The history of Dragon Quest is one that has been intertwined with Mr. Toriyama’s character designs. Mr. Toriyama and the late Mr. Sugiyama were longtime collaborators on Dragon Quest. I can’t believe they’re gone… I can’t find the words to express my sorrow. This is truly, truly a tragedy.
Torishima, his "evil editor" (the one the Mashirito from Dr Slump is inspired by), also put out a statement:
"The last time we worked together was on the book we published last year, 'Dr. Mashirito's Strongest Manga Technique.' In that book, 'Torishima and Toriyama Back Then' was the last manga we made together. 45 years, thank you very much. Mr. Toriyama, you were the best manga artist I have ever known."
(this is what he's talking about)
Jackie Chan statement:
"Akira Toriyama-sensei, thank you for creating so many classics, they will always be with the world, farewell 🙏"
French president Emmanuel Macron:
the tweet reads "To Akira Toriyama and his millions of fans who grew up with him",
The authograph says "for Ma-ku-ro-n president" (to President Macron); the hand-drawn parts are the little Goku and the dragon balls surrounding him, alongside the autograph. It was drawn over a printed paper (as per custom when getting an autograph)
The date indicates it was given to him during the Olympic Games in Tokyo.
Yabuki Kentaro (To Love Ru's author) (link to the tweet)
Takao Koyama (screen writer for 90% of the episodes and the movies) says Toriyama was sick for over a year at this point. He himself is pretty badly sick as well.
Hiroki Takahashi (Makafushigi Adventure, first DB opening)
Hironobu Kageyama (Chala Head Chala and everything else)
"Singing 'CHA-LA HEAD-CHA-LA!' is the biggest medal in my life! The loss of the sun is too much to bear But the power of Toriyama-sensei's works Will continue to be a strong light And may it illuminate people all over the world. May you rest in peace."
(some more of the Editorial department of Jump can be found here, with a good browser extension you should be able to get the gist of it)
Feel free to reblog with your favorite manga panels, interviews, trivias, and let's pay a homage to his life and work, alright??
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How is YaoYao's serious showdown killing me every time, I've been at it for the past *checks logs* 9 rounds.
#kittybee games#is it bc I'm alt tabbing on paperwork at the same time? I do it paying attn and I still lose and i've cycled 2 decks already#i'm about to cycle to a third one and the margin of loss is always literally 1 hp between our last 2 cards#also I farm neuvie's talent books when I get stressed out and come right back to suffer#I don't know why but the framing of his clothing Really Highlights his legs and its distracting to me - they catch my eyes more than SHENHE#just remembered i have work tomorrow I GUESS I'll sleep in 2 hrs - the haphazard autho emails are still pinging my inbox every so often
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The fate (Anastacius x Female Reader x Claude)
Chapter 6: Obelian Emperor
The couple, though formally married, harbored a deep and profound hatred for each other. Their relationship was so damaged that it seemed impossible to mend. Every interaction between them was laced with bitterness and resentment, their words filled with sharp barbs and their silences laden with tension and suppressed anger. Despite their formal union, their marriage was nothing more than a form of torture, each one trapped in a suffocating cycle of hatred and hostility towards the other.
Female reader will be named as Celestial
"Athy, comes here!"
Despite the empress's attempt to call the young princess to come closer, Athasia seemed to be frozen in shock, as if her life was flashing before her eyes. Her body trembled as though she was caught in the middle of a terrible nightmare, unable to move or escape the situation. It was as though a wave of fear and panic had paralyzed her, causing her to tremble and freeze in place, unable to comply with the empress's command.
Claude paid no mind to the empress, his focus completely on the child. His face was expressionless as he studied her features, taking in every detail with a critical eye. This was the second time that Claude had seen the child's face, and his reaction was far from warm and welcoming. Instead, he maintained a cold and stoic demeanor, leaving the child to shiver in fear at his unfeeling gaze. It was a far from pleasant encounter for the young princess, as she faced Claude's cold and emotionless stare. What a warm welcome he provided to the young princess.
The small, velvet bag that the princess had been holding in her hand suddenly fell to the ground as she lost her grip, and some of the jewels inside spilled out. The sight of the jewels scattering out caused the princess to grow even paler, her eyes wide with fear and trepidation. It was as though she was filled with horror over the prospect of what might happen next and the consequences she might face for stealing the jewels from the palace. Her secret and long time effort had gone to waste.
"That face... I've seen it before"
Claude's voice was cold and emotionless as he spoke at the end of his breath. His words seemed to come out with a hint of recognition, as if he had seen the princess's face before. As his mood soured, a coldness seemed to settle upon the atmosphere around them, as if the very air had grown icy and chilled. The atmosphere became ominous and tense, as if the entire environment was responding to the emperor's dark emotions.
Athanasia was fixated and entranced by the emperor's presence, studying him intently. It was a surreal moment for her, as this was the first time she was face to face with her supposed father who had abandoned her since birth.
"Yes, was it that dancer from Siodonna. You look like that wench"
Claude spoke with cold and detached tone, referring to his late concubine and addressing her as "that wench" rather than by her name. It was clear that he had loved her dearly in the past but now held nothing but hatred towards her. He was a self-centered and ungrateful individual who only cared about being loved and did not reciprocate those feelings in return. He was someone who was selfish to a person who had loved him. Diana and Anastacius
"And I think I remember what that wench named you. I believe it was Athanasia"
Claude stepped closer to his daughter and crunched down to her level, tugging her chin to make her look up at him. The sight of Athanasia looking so frightened, as if her soul had left her body, was something the empress had never seen before. Unable to hold back any longer, the empress picked up a nearby vase, not caring about its worth or any consequences she might face, and threw it at the space between Claude and his bodyguard, Felix.
"Don't you dare to come any closer. Never EVER TOUCH MY CHILD" The empress's voice rang out with a fierce protectiveness, her words carrying a weight of authority and determination.
Celestial glared at Claude with a deep-seated hatred, her eyes burning with anger. Without hesitation, she scooped up Athanasia in her arms, placing her head on her shoulder, effectively shielding her from the sight of the tyrant.
Despite the injury she had inflicted on her husband earlier by throwing the vase, she showed no regret or remorse, as the pain she had caused him was not enough to diminish the hatred she felt towards him for his past transgressions. Claude observed the interaction between the empress and the princess with a glint of curiosity and intrigue in his eyes.
"Interesting," he said wryly, his eyes flickering between the empress and the young princess.
"She's not even your child, yet you treat her as one. I've never caught that the two of you being this close"
His words were dripping with sarcasm, as he seemed to derive some sort of perverse pleasure from witnessing the bond between the empress and the princess. With a wave of his hand, Claude used his power to take control of Athanasia's body and lift her into the air. The young princess, now suspended in the air, found herself in Claude's grasp, her small figure dangling from the emperor's grip, as if a marionette being controlled by a puppet master.
Celestial watched in horror as Claude effortlessly lifted Athanasia mid-air using his power. The sight of her child being helpless in the emperor's clutches fueled her anger and determination to protect her daughter at all costs. The scene brought back painful memories of that fateful day at the Ruby Palace, and the sound of the princess' crying still echoed in her ears like a haunting reminder of the tragedy that unfolded. She clenched her fists, her lips trembling with a mixture of anger and fear.
"Let her go!" she demanded, her voice shaking with urgency. "Release her immediately, you heartless monster!" The emperor's tone was chilly and emotionless as he spoke to the empress, his eyes fixed on her with a cold, penetrating glare.
"I sent you to learn etiquette," he remarked, his voice biting with thinly veiled irritation. "It seems your lessons have been ineffective." He paused for a moment, his gaze remained on the empress as he unleashed a subtle threat.
"Do not test my limits, empress," he warned, his words laced with a dangerous undertone.
"If you want her, come out yourself and take her from me"
Claude challenged her, well aware of the empress's inability to defy him. Only few knew the reasons behind the empress's confinement within the Emperor Palace, as he was the one who bounded her to the place. Celestial was bound by the constraints of a spell he had placed upon her long ago in exchange for Athanasia safety. It was their agreement back then.
The empress's heart ached with a deep sense of hopelessness and despair, a sorrow etched upon her features as she stood motionless, watching helplessly as the emperor carried her child away from her. She stood there, frozen in place, her hands clenched into tight fists at her sides as she fought back the overwhelming emotions coursing through her.
"Give her back to me. Claude, I'm willing to do anything! Stop killing the people I loved!"
@fluffy-koalala @happydeertraveler
Chapter 5 << Previous, Next >> Chapter 7
#anastacius de alger obelia#anastacius x reader#claude de alger obelia#claude x reader#wmmap#wmmap fanfic#wmmap anastacius#romance#who made me a princess#wmmap x reader#wmmap claude#manhwa#manhwa x reader#wmmap athanasia
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Giant-Size Wolverine retcons
Marvel, famously, loves having Wolverine as a cash cow, to the point it has its own entry on TVTropes. This manifests as a LOT of Wolverine #1s being released as well as the clawed-one showing up on deceitful covers and guest starring anywhere they think they can justify it. Less common (but still frequent enough) is Forrest Gumping him into historical events or rewriting events he was there for as a character study cynical profiteering.
Sunfire is still great - 'banal prattle.' You tell em
This is the latter, foregrounding Logan in Giant-Size X-Men to the detriment of almost everyone else. In the original Giant-Size X-Men, Logan sits at the back and says very little. Here he takes charge and uncharacteristically identifies that the new squad lacks synergy and a sense of teamwork. He opens with 'it's your first day as new X-Men, people. I'm going to show you how this works.' Uh, isn't it yours too? Did I miss a meeting?
Poor Kurt. Eddie Munster is just mean
So he starts a fight, telling everyone there's one too many people. Colossus objects for sexist reasons (not objection to killing lol) and Storm puts him in his place. Sunfire and Thunderbird both have little patience for white people or bullshit and Logan catches a fireball...
... and an elbow to the spine. Ororo goes off with electricity and Kurt just doesn't want to die, so he BAMFs behind her and starts choking Storm from behind. Logan turns the tables on Proudstar and drops a one liner about metal conducting electricity. I'm no wizard, but I don't think it interacts well with human flesh, either, especially if they have a metal skeleton. Obviously he takes everyone down and has the biggest dick in the world.
Yeah... about Thunderbird.
Banshee bursts in and reveals Logan is acting against Chuck's wishes. I'm generally in favour of that but I'm not fond of its narrative function at all . He has an open shirt, a toothpick in his mouth, and looks oh so pleased with himself. I'm not some reactionary purist who worships the sacred texts and pushes back against retcons. Quite the opposite, in fact. Additive retcons are fantastic when done well - Magneto being a Holocaust survivor stands as one of the best in fiction.
I don't think that's what this is, or at least it's not successful. In Giant-Size X-Men #1 there's no time for this pissing contest because all the other X-Men need rescuing ASAP. Chuck rounds them up and handles the basics then defers to Cyclops, the field leader of many years. They leave immediately and nobody is getting along. Sunfire leaves then comes back. Scott is all business because he's worried about the folks on Krakoa and there just isn't time. If they respect the chain of command in the field that's good enough. Team building can come later.
What's achieved here besides sidelining everyone to centre edge lord Logan? Not a lot, in fact I'd say it minimises Logan's character arc most of all. He was a grumpy loner who eventually learnt to trust people, came to see the X-Men as family, and committed to the team. Logan knowing half this stuff already and having this degree of social confidence just undermines that, as well as Cyclops' leadership of this ragged band. Not sure what Whedon was thinking tbh.
That wasn't the end of it, though. Interestingly, this is Chris Claremont writing here. Again, I'm not a purist and I'm under no illusion about CC's later X-Men work. He'd worked with these characters for a long time but Giant-Size was Wein & Cockrum, so he's choosing to expand the origin story. Thunderbird is still alive so they're still pretty new here. Anyway, Cyke is running a danger room training session - Storm vs Thunderbird.
After some kinda bizarre ethnic posturing Ororo is pinned.
Unsurprisingly, she starts to wig out due to her claustrophobia. Logan picks it up with his advanced senses and jumps in. Scott owns the mistake and ends the training session.
I find it hard to buy Scott would feel like his authority was undermined here. Logan is being as paternalistic as ever, but Scott blames himself for failures. He doesn't externalise it and he understands he's not leading children anymore. It's Chuck who has difficulty adapting to this specific dynamic. Also, Logan had zero interest in leadership. None. It was Ororo who was a friendly rival to him and ended up succeeding him as leader. He also didn't especially trust or show respect to anyone. Everyone else has problems but the focus and Charles' confidant is Wolverine. That's silly as hell.
Okay, private insecurity and self-doubt, totally Scott's thing. I'm just going to ignore literally everything else that's happening, especially 'damaged goods.' Ugh.
The second story came out in 2005 in Giant-Size X-Men #4. Aside from the Wolverine oversaturation and other weird shit I've pointed out, I feel like there was a concerted effort to bring certain characters closer to their FOX movies counterparts. Chuck started looking like Captain Picard, Scott was Flanderised a bit but moreso deemphasized, and Logan started to look and act more like Hugh Jackman. He joined more teams, regressed in social growth yet became way more important to the X-Men. More important to the very fabric of the Marvel universe.
I get why it happened (capitalism) but I think it was executed poorly in many instances. These are particularly egregious, but Wolverine was and is fucking everywhere - under many different writers. There's always going to be a sense of asynchronicity under those circumstances. I've actually come to really dislike Logan lately. Obviously it's an issue for most long running characters, but his particular regression to the mean every new book bores the shit out of me. He's not growing at all, even when everything around him changes. On Krakoa he was mostly just gruff and stabby, monologuing about hell, beer, time, nature, poison, and being the best he is at what he does. 🙄
He'll usually find someone worse than him to point at and call out with transparency he never applies to himself. Magneto, Scott, Beast, Scott, Chuck, teenage Scott, Sabertooth, Omega Red, Beast, Chuck, and Scott again. Someone please deconstruct this guy! Send him to therapy, break him down to his base components and examine them. Fuck his moping or running naked with wolves or fighting the W-digo - give him a messy boyfriend and force him to get the fuck over Jean Grey.
He can still fight ninjas and mentor troubled teens and sulk about whatever his latest thing is - just have him grow! His books will still sell, people will still cheer when he says bub, and snikt isn't going away. Hire Al Ewing to do it like he did with Loki, Hulk, Magneto, Sunspot, etc. Some of those changes actually stuck and the characters are more popular than ever! Is that too much to hope for? Almost certainly, but one can hope.
Boy I got carried away on that outro, lol.
#x comics#wolverine#giant size x men#ororo munroe#cyclops#marvel#x men#comics#magneto#charles xavier#professor x#krakoa#thunderbird#retcon#chris claremont#nightcrawler#jean grey#sunfire#colossus
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Found on quora - don’t ask me about my google searches, sometimes in the middle of a the night I just need answers.
Why do fandoms ship SasuNaru?
SHORT ANSWER: because Naruto and Sasuke's relationship is the most developed of the entire manga and because Kishimoto doesn't know how to write good female characters.
A LONGER ANSWER NEEDS TO TAKE INTO ACCOUNT MORE DETAILS.
The two presumed love interests of the show, Hinata and Sakura, are more often than not, shallow lovesick girls who didn't do anything to really build up their relationship with Naruto and Sasuke. Hinata was always hidden behind a tree stalking him, keeping the distances, even when Naruto needed a friend more than anything else. She was “shy", ok, I get it, but her attitude is incredibly annoying, especially since she had such a good introduction. She could've been so much more than a cute girl serving as human shield when the narrative needed her to.
Sakura chased after Sasuke all the time, confessing her love left and right, but she never really took into account the guy's feelings towards her. When she was little, she even asked Sasuke to bring her with him to carry out his revenge plans. Naruto, even as a young boy, never contemplated such a choice, because he wanted Sasuke to be happy and healthy and he knew that, by severing all his bonds, Sasuke would've fallen into darkness and despair even further. That's the difference between the obsessive kind of love showed by Sakura and the completely selfless kind of love showed by Naruto. Even to this day, Sakura is merely chasing after her adolescent crush. She didn't even have the time to actually get to know Sasuke since, after the war, the guy was away from the village for 2 years, then when they reconnected he almost immediately impregnated her and after 1–2 yrs at best, he went MIA again, on a super secret mission that prevented him to return home even once in 9 yrs… He couldn't write trivial letters to his family, but was in contact with Naruto all the time, communicating crucial Intel for the village (sharing classified info isn't supposed to be more difficult than writing personal stuff to a wife?). Sasuke didn't even recognize his daughter's face when he saw her... So much for a beautiful love story! At least, Naruto and Hinata actually spent time together, before becoming husband and wife and after, as a family with two beloved children.
The point is: had kishimoto written his female leads a little bit better, their role as realistic love interests would've been more widely accepted and even welcomed. There's no particolar need to “ship” two male characters together, so if many people do it with this particular “couple”, is because Naruto and Sasuke's relationship is far from being the mere byproduct of trivial fetishization.
Now, clearly shonen manga aren't, usually, concerned with pairings and relationships; nobody really wanted or expected romance to be the main focus of the story, but kishimoto spent a hell of a lot of time describing in fine details the love between Naruto and Sasuke, filling the narrative surrounding them with symbolism and tropes usually found in romantic literature. Just to mention some:
Spiderman horizontal “kiss" (after Sasuke collapsed at the end of the first VOTE fight);
thinking about the other in bed, or under the starry night sky with a hand on the chest, wishing to be reunited soon;
declaring the intention of dying together;
Noticing the compatibility of fire and wind as elements that always amplify and compliment each other;
Begging on the knees, in front of the Raikage, to avoid the other’s execution;
having a full blown panic attack at the thought of the other being executed;
Never giving up on saving the other even when everybody else already did;
I could go on, but the point is:
Why did Kishimoto portray this relationship in a purposefully ambiguous fashion?
There isn't a clear cut answer even after years. It's possible that the author liked to '’troll” the audience by leaving some suggestive images here and there… Heck, he even drew a wholeass front-page with Naruto and Sasuke wearing necklaces with each other's face on them! But simple fan service doesn't cut it for me. I don't think it was just that.
Kishimoto decided to write a love story from the beginning to the end, however it was a platonic love between two people of the same sex.
It was platonic because Kishimoto never stated anything different: his original idea of making Naruto and Sasuke a couple is just fake news spread by a Spanish forum that became viral for obvious reasons.
It wasn't even a brotherly love, however, since Naruto himself said that, despite the whole reincarnations thing, he is not Ashura and Sasuke is not Indra. Their relationship is unique, infact, it didn't end in tragedy like the other ones. They didn't grew up as brothers from the start, they learned to love and understand eachother through years of suffering and pushing-pulling.
Naruto is Sasuke's most important person, his one and only… while Sasuke is for Naruto the ideal he always attempted to reach. Their relationship is perfectly balanced, because they push each other to be better, neither is the doormat of the other, while their marriages are very unbalanced, with passive and submissive wives who see them as Gods.
So in the end, this love story between two men is something bound to create confusion among the fans. Kishimoto didn't avoid to make things complicated and allusive since the very beginning of the manga (two rivals kissing is obviously just for comedic purposes, but it definitely set the tune for other events. Sasuke even remembered this kiss when he was convinced Haku had killed him, almost as it was an episode he actually gave some thought to). It's all a matter of interpretation: fans can see more than just a friendship or something different than brotherly affection because the author purposefully drew/wrote questionable situations/dialogues. However, it was never Kishimoto's intentions to make SasuNaru a canon couple. Especially since the next gen needed to be created and two gay men can't have biological children togheter anyway.
Sasuke and Naruto are soulmates and they don't need to share a carnal relationship to be the best love story of the manga.
At the end of the day, I think this was Kishimoto's plan all along (or at least since Sasuke's introduction): writing about the most powerful kind of love one can think of, capable of surviving everything, even unrelenting hatred.
People can easily see this concept as something else and I myself would've loved a NaruSasu ending, to be quite honest, but what we need to refer to, while discussing this kind of topics, is always canon material. Canonically, Naruto and Sasuke are two heterosexual males, married with children.
#hell yes#sns#if anyone ever asks you#sasunaru#naruto x sasuke#Naruto#Naruto is the most important person in Sasuke’s life#the greatest love story never told#you know my heart and I know yours#narusasu#lol they are just brothers#and I’m Queen Cleopatra#I’m cackling at the Spiderman kiss
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