#but the one on the left that was very important to him once
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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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My Aunt Mary just had a stroke and is in hospice. She was my Uncle Larry's wife. I wasn't very close with her for most of my life.
Honestly, I think a lot of my relatives thought of her as annoying. She could talk your ear off and left 10 minute voicemails. But after my Dad died, she was the only one from that side of the family to call and check on me. We started talking maybe once a month to catch up. I came to realize she was very sweet and kind. And I started enjoying her long messages and found them endearing. And maybe she wasn't always trying to be funny, but she was funny. And she made me smile.
She lived nearby and was the only one that didn't move away from this area. She helped me take care of my parents by giving them rides to important medical appointments before I had my driver's license.
I have a lot to thank her for.
I'm going to go see her tomorrow and say goodbye. I'm told she can hear people but can no longer speak.
There is one problem.
This is her room.
And for some reason that sounded familiar. Then I looked at my texts to my uncle telling him the room my dad was in.
I see that room in my nightmares. I sometimes get flashes of my father lying dead in that room. That room is a traumatic place for me.
But I will go see her tomorrow. She deserves a proper goodbye. So I will get through it.
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Will had hope ... and then lost it.
He had hope that maybe, just maybe, Mike and he felt the same way. And I think it started here:
Mike expressed relief at the idea of Will not joining another party. And Will's look seems ... surprised but joyful? Like he's picking up on Something the audience is not.
Then we have this:
I know a lot of people say he meant this in a friendship way. But I don't think he did entirely. I think he was 'testing the waters' so to speak, to see Mike's reaction to him asking something like this so forwardly--an action driven in part, possibly, also by frustration. Of course their friendship was his priority but he was also Sending Mike a Message. Speaking in code, if you will. And I'm not sure if Mike picked up on it or not, but he knew what he was doing when he used the word 'us'.
Then of course we have Mike's speech to Will in episode 4. The way he slightly tilts his head to the side inquisitively after Mike said 'It's Hawkins, it's not the same without you', as if he's thinking "am I dreaming? Is he really saying this?" And not to be meta but he might even be wondering if he's being delusional here.
On top of that, the speech prompted him to gather the courage to do this:
hope again. But then his arc culminated in this:
Will's facial expressions when Mike is self-depricating ... he seems so sad. In the second one, even Mike notices and cuts himself off to apologize for bringing up this subject.
I think he, sadly, realized Mike did feel the same way as him, but not in the way he had initially hoped. Mike, like him, is struggling with not feeling good enough for the person he loves.
And Will did not want Mike to feel the same way he did. So he did what we saw him do and give the painting to Mike, which symbolizes his love for DnD, for what they do together, for their friend group, for him. His intention here was to make Mike feel better. Important. Seen. Even at the cost of his own heartbreak.
"Every smile you fake, I'll be watching you."
So to recap, at the beginning of the season, Will had been acting weird and painting for someone he liked ( according to El ). We find out very quickly that the recipient of the painting was intended to be Mike. I don't think Will ever intended for the painting to be a full blown love confession--but a start. A continuation of the 'hint dropping' they started doing at the end of S3. But of course, the whole world went to shit, and his feelings got amplified to the point where the painting's meaning took a different turn. And it became the basis of a veiled love confession.
I think this is devastating because the narrative forced them, once again, down a different path from the natural progression this would've been had Mike been allowed to enjoy a nice spring break in California.
I do believe by the end of S4, Will has completely lost the last vestiges of hope he had left that Mike would ever reciprocate his feelings, especially after Mike's love confession. I think he feels stupid for even allowing himself to believe there was a chance.
I mean, look at him. And, terrifyingly, I feel like that is exactly where Vecna needs him to be at the start of S5.
Sprinkle in some #birthdaygate and voila ... we have the perfect recipe for a horrible Vecna vision.
I don't know how they'll resolve this, but it does feel to me that the intention of Will's S4 arc was to get him to a point of loss of hope, which signifies the death of his dream.
Going into S5, he probably sees this dream now as stupid and childish--an impossibility. Adding to this, there's no way in hell Will is going to confess. Not when this happened and it was never resolved.
The ball is on Mike's court, for better or for worse.
And I think this is also another plot twist we will find out through Vecna: the fact that Will had hope that he and Mike could be together and felt the same way. And that honestly makes whatever Vecna does to Will 10 times worse because if Will had NEVER had hope, then there's nothing new there. But having hope and then having it crushed to the ground? Yeah ... my heart hurts as I type this.
#byler#byler analysis#and does this mean byler endgame? I really freaking hope it does bc maybe Will's dream needs to be restored or changed in some way for the#story to be resolved. I keep going back to how his emotional arc ties the whole show together and this might be a piece of the puzzle.
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Bby siren SJ & spoiled kid SY
I cleaned up a ficlet from a sprint I did with @danmeichael while ago! Cw implied murder & cannibalism (none depicted, just normal siren stuff)
"My parents said I'm not supposed to get in the water," The young human— Shen Yuan, he called himself— explained with patience but no small amount of self-importance, as though Shen Jiu was the one being difficult and the human was being the bigger person by humoring him.
"I can't play on land" Shen Jiu said with a put-upon pout, flicking his tail above water-- the small, short glimpses of his shiny scales were usually enough to beckon the human children closer. They were, in all honesty, usually quite easy to trick. Safer, too– even if humans were softer and weaker, Shen Jiu was still far too small to over-power an adult. When it had been the two of them, he and Qi-ge had been able to catch larger prey, but now– well now, Shen Jiu had to look out for himself, and that meant smaller kills, even if he had to venture much much closer to shore than he would have liked.
“We could, um,” the human paused, “I guess you can’t have games or books underwater…” he trailed off for a moment, before his face lit up with a charming smile. “I can read to you! I can read chapter books now,” the boy said with great aplomb, as though it should mean anything to Shen Jiu, “wait here, I’ll go get one from my parents!”
"NO!" Shen Jiu cried out. If the boy left, there was no guarantee he would return, or worse, he might come back with his kin trailing behind him. Shen Jiu hadn't eaten in weeks; he couldn't allow this chance to slip through his fingers.
Shen Yuan blinked at him, and then sat back down on the rocks, his cross legs out of reach of the lapping waves. Still not close enough for Shen Jiu to drag him under before the other humans heard his screams. Then, miraculously, and without any further beckoning the boy leaned closer. Shen Jiu's body tensed, tracking the movement, waiting for the boy to reach an angle where gravity would do most of the work to send him toppling into the waves.
"Are you lonely?" Shen Yuan whispered.
Shen Jiu jolted. "What-?" The anger was immediate and instinctive. He snapped his teeth. His hand jerked up, but no, the human was still too far from the edge, from Shen Jiu, all Shen Jiu was doing was flagging his intentions as plainly as a whale, like an idiot--
"Hey, that's-" annoyance flickered over the boy’s face, and for a second Shen Jiu thought he had caught on, that he would run, and Shen Jiu too would have to flee, wasting more of his energy with a failed hunt– but then Shen Yuan was once again the picture of a young lord. The boy cleared his throat. "I mean, you don't have to be embarrassed. I would be upset too if I had no brothers or gameboy," he said with the air of someone delivering sage wisdom.
Shen Jiu blinked. “Yes,” he repeated, perhaps unconvincingly, “I’m very sad without a ‘game-boy’ or… my brother.” he finished with a whisper. Shen Yuan nodded sympathetically.
“Ah!” His eyes widened and then curved, sparkling in the midday sun. He shoved a hand into his clothes and dug around, before pulling out some kind of small white and blue object.
“Da-ge always gives me milk candy when I fall and skin my knee. It’ll cheer you up!” He explained, dropping the thing towards the water.
Shen Jiu fumbled to catch it, only for the crisp white and and blue paper to start dissolving in his hand. He dropped it on instinct— bright colors spreading through the water could only mean poison. He glanced up and sent the human a viscous glare.
"Nooo, you have to eat it before it gets soggy!" Shen Yuan urged, seemingly oblivious to Shen Jiu’s ire.
Shen Jiu considered for a moment. This creature was far too stupid to poison someone, and seemed to have been carrying this for some time without any precautions or fear of it. It probably was just food. Shen Jiu’s stomach grumbled. Cautiously, he grabbed the ‘milk candy’. The blue had fallen away to reveal a white pellet that sat nicely in his palm. He put it in his mouth.
“Mm—“ Shen Jiu couldn’t suppress the noise. His head fins fluttered in delight as the creamy, sweet taste spread. He held it there carefully, letting it slowly melt over his tongue.
“It’s good, right?” Shen Yuan asked, just a little smug. Shen Jiu reluctantly nodded. He reached down to pat Shen Jiu’s head, as no one had done in so long. “You don’t have to be sad. If you’re lonely, I’ll be your friend.” As the boy gently stroked the siren’s silky hair, Shen Jiu decided that lunging up to bite wasn’t worth losing the treat in his mouth. It was okay to stay like this, just for a little while.
#svsss#shen jiu#shen yuan#jiuyuan#fish fic#I hope the children aren't painfully unrealistic lol-- working on that for a future project.#siren SJ AU
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Sorry if my English is bad, it is not my native language.
What do you think about this scenario, Orion in one of his archive searches, he meets one of the most important archivists of Iacon and when he sees him interested in the history of this place, he helps him to sneak to show him which are the best archives of history, with time, a little chemistry is created between them, the end is left to your taste (it would be nice a reunion between reader and the now Optimus Prime).
That sounds so sweet I’ll definitely try it!
Archives: Transformers One!Orion Pax/Optimus Prime x Cybertronian!GN!Cogged!Reader OneShot
TW/Tags: Fluff, Orion is such a gremlin, Optimus is silly, Sentinel just wants attention, reader is saaaaaad for a good while, I think that’s all? Enjoy!
You were an archivists. You’ve worked in the archives for a very long time since you online. You always felt with sentinels flirting as well. But he never went further when he was around you.
On day when you were walking alone in the archives you heard someone. You peaked your head out the corner and saw a mining bot. He was…adorable..so small and curious as he looked around the place. So when he was looking at some old records you made it behind him. When he back up about to turn around his back hit yours. His cervos then touching behind him feeling your arms, hips, and waist.
”You need help there?” You asked in a soft voice. He then backed up. “Oh uh no- well you see-“ His hips and aft then hit the records table. That must've hurt.
You tried to not chuckle. “You alright there?” He nods. His voice is a bit high pitched. “Yes-“ You’d then hand him a few records from your cervo. Boy you loved that look on his face. The way his eyes widened and beamed up at you as he looked at the records and took them. That’s how it’s been since then for a while. He’d visit the archives. Well more like sneak in. And you both would look at old records. And he would look at your work as well. Even at times you would help him escape when the other guards would come in. It was like this for a few months.
At times you would make sure to keep your little secret. Even Sentinel noticed something a bit different from you. But he didn’t care much as long as you gave him attention. Orion wasn’t so secretive.
At least when it came to his best friend D. D always made sure to shut up Orion so no one knows.
After some time Sentinel called for you to help him out with polishing. You couldn’t say no and this caused you to miss Orion.
The whole time you thought of him as sentinel complained and talked about how you must live a boring life. When Orion made it to the archives he wondered where you were. But you must also be really busy. And so he carried on and will make sure to visit tomorrow before his shift again. Let’s just say Sentinel almost got handsy but Airachnid had came in with news of their mission. Causing him to have to leave. And you made your way back to your work.
After that you didn’t hear from Orion until the race. Seeing him on the TV as you had dinner with your friends. You were surprised and yet amazed at the same time. Watching as he almost won the race. But…When the news came of his death by Sentinel. You were heart broken. You honestly hoped to court the small miner. Even despite the size and class.
But as time went by. You just didn’t seem the same. Not that Sentinel noticed. And so after some time. You still haven’t felt like moving on. Until…the battle.
You saw everything once you ran out of the archives and with the crowd of bots as you all watch Orion fight his best friends. To see him die and then to die. Falling into the planet.
But then as the decepticons started to destroy the city and you almost died in the collapse….He came back… You watched as he fought his best friends. And when the battle was over. He and the other many cogged bots who came here left with him to the surface. From then on. It’s announced that he is your new leader. This made your spark sink a bit.
After that it never was right to go up to him. He was your cities new leader. And but he never forgot about you. One day as you made your way to the dark room where you met Orion. As you looked through the records you didn’t notice a larger bot behind you.
Once you turned around. Your helm bumped into a chest. When you looked up its- HIM?!?!
”O-Orion??!!” You backed into the records. Your back hitting them causing a few records to fall from the ground.
”Woah sorry. Thought it be ya know cute and funny? If I scared you and uh…” You chuckled. “I know what you meant.” You two stand there for a moment in silence as you two definitely blushed.
”O-Orion I heh, I was so sorry I thought I’d never see you again..” He had a gentle smile on his dermas as he leaned down. His hands against the shelves with the records as his helm is closer to yours. Man you were blushing so hard right now as he leaned his helm against your audio sensors. “Wanna be my Conjunx?”
He had the MOST ADORABLE SMILE EVER on his dermas. You tried your best to not laugh. Primus you love him so much. And you didn’t mind that he was a lot bigger than you. You nodded “Yes..OPtimus..I’ll be your Conjunx” his forhelm rested against yours as you both looked at each other. And his larger cervos gently held yours. When his dermas were about to touch yours. You stopped him, putting one of your cervos on his lips.
”Now now Prime. I waited for you for a loooong time. You can go through the courtship ritual.” Your digit booped his nose.
He chuckled as his cervo takes yours once more. You both leaned closer and finally your dermas meet. This song was long over due and the embrace was so much better. You to chose to stay in that spot…for a good while.
You are so happy.
#transformers one#transformers one x reader#x reader#orion pax x reader#optimus prime x reader#tfo optimus
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Another JWCT season 2 Kenlynn analysis because I'm obsessed and I don't know if the writers are geniuses, or if I'm getting worked up over a whole lot of nothing 😂.
So, bear with me.
Kenji's arc in season 2 is clear from the first episode: he's throwing himself at danger because of the losses he's suffered. He's broken.
But in all that sadness, he has one last glimmer of hope: Bumpy's egg.
He's the one the most attached to it, even more so than Ben. After all these losses, it's the first sign of something good happening in his life. It's the contrary of death, a birth, "someone" new he can love.
During the entire season he's the most concerned with the egg, obsessed with getting it back, almost dying for it (more on that later).
Now flashfoward to episode 8: he discovers that Brooklynn is alive.
When he finds out, he's confused, hurt, mad, shook to his core (but props to the animators, for a split second...you can see that he is just... so happy).
"She's alive?"
But the hurt and feeling of betrayal is too hard for him to grasp, so he pushes all his feelings away. He knows it's not the time.
And what does he do in order to push away his feelings about Brooklynn?
He focuses on the egg, as we established the only thing in his life which isn't tarnished or hurtful. And he desperately needs it right now, now that his whole world is crumbling down even more. This shift in his priorities is shown when he says this:
"The eggs... Brooklynn took Bumpy's egg..."
At this point, Kenji's motivations are still unclear, but this line suggests that his main goal, the thing the most important to him at this moment is the same as it was at the beggining of the season, aka getting Bumpy's egg back... not getting to Brooklynn.
So when he goes berserk, driving like a madman, running as if his life depended on it to get to Brooklynn, of course we have the feeling that he wants to see her, but he's also running to achieve his objective, which has always been to take care of Bumpy's egg, and it just so happens that Brooklynn is the one obstacle to his goal.
We can see he's desperate, but it's left to interpretation as to exactly why.
Until he finally catches up to Brooklynn.
It's Brooklynn's hand he grabbs, not the case. The thing he wanted the most is in his direct reach, yet he grabbs her hand. In this moment, he completely forgets about the egg, not even sparing it a glance, not mentionning it even once.
"Brooklynn..."
All that matters to him is that the girl he loves is there, in front of him, which he thought would never happen again.
We finally have the confirmation that the reason he was so eager to run to that airport wasn't to get the egg back, but to see her. And not to get mad at her, no, just to... get her back.
And then, Brooklynn leaves.
She leaves them, but she leaves him. It's him she looks at the last, his grasp she frees herself from, him who utters her name afterward.
They're still at the center of the scene, and the scene is a direct call back to the break-up scene (also... their colors are matching, it's like not even a little subtle, which tells me there's a reason Brooklynn wore a dark blue shirt the entire season...which is SO NOT her color).
Notice how even there, it's Ben who remembers to ask Brooklynn to give them the egg.
"Wait! Bumpy's egg... it's in that case..."
It's SO FAR from being something Kenji can focus on right now, now that Brooklynn is in front of him.
We then find out that before boarding the plane, Brooklynn has given Kenji the egg. Not Ben (who was the one who asked for it), not Darius, but Kenji.
...And Kenji looks the most heart-broken he has ever looked.
He has just gotten his hands on what he thought he wanted the most, his ultimate goal this season, the very thing he threw himself into fire for, into an ocean beaten by the storm... and yet he's not even looking at it, his eyes instead watching the plane take off with Brooklynn inside.
He's gotten what he thought he wanted, but at what price?
It's not to diminish his link to Bumpy's egg. As I've shown, he risked his life countless times for it. But it just goes to show just how much Brooklynn matters to him. In that last scene, it's made clear that the thing he wanted the most, was for her to come back to them, to him. But she didn't, and gave him the egg to make up for it, as some sort of consolation price.
But it's not, and it will never be.
#I'm soooo over interpreting but idc#don't know if the writers thought about all of this but I did and it's f*cking poetic and tragic#he loves her so much#and I love them so much#romeo and juliet who?#no shade to Bumpy's egg#we love Bumpy's egg#kenlynn#jwct#jwct season 2#jwcc#camp cretaceous#chaos theory#chaos theory spoiler#dreamworks#jurassic park#jurassic world#analysis#kenji kon#darius bowman#yasmina fadoula#sammy gutierrez#ben pincus#brooklynn jwct
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The Veilguard review
Big spoilers ahead for the people that haven't finished the game yet.
So after plugging 70+ hours I've finally completed Veilguard.
This will just be a general overview of how I felt about the game, I'll likely do a separate one for Solas/Mythal and Lavellan and one for a Lucanis romance.
First off I want to say that any negative criticism I had for the game I am reminded of how difficult this game was to get off the ground running in the first place; it experienced multiple layoffs, it pulled the team to focus on Anthem when it failed, the team was reduced, OG writers left and multiple people lost their jobs once their work was complete and lets not forget those that worked on this during a pandemic so I think it's important to keep coming back to this so that we can just appreciate what we had as an end product.
Now the end product itself, did I enjoy it? absolutely.
I've laughed, I've been giddy, I've been angry at times and in those final moments was reduced to tears that reconciliations were reached and it was the end of a very long 10 year wait.
I want to start from the beginning where we welcomed our Rooks because holy moly is the character creator detailed. I mean seriously every single Rook I've seen is a catwalk model 😂
Every faction felt different and the brief history to your character was really well done; I went with a female mage elf I the Crows and I loved being a Crow from the get go; the decision that she made that essentially forced her to leave the Crows because she'd basically f*cked up a mission was really interesting because there's still that tension once she returned with Viago (who I adored BTW, his disappointing fatherly persona against Teia's comfort and protectiveness was just perfect) and it set the course for every Rook wanting to prove themselves.
Briefly touching on the Inquisitors creation I was so happy that this was an early decision and hearing her say "it's good to see you again" was like a stab to the heart and felt like I was being welcomed back home after such a long journey.
Once into the gameplay it's hard to ignore how beautiful the graphics look, Minrathous' design was so unexpected and how the locals were treated makes me wonder how Dorian ever survived 😂
There were certain scenes that just blew me away and made me realise just how far games have come to allow us them; the moment you open the doors at Weisshaupt and see Ghilan'nains massive looming face in the clouds was just breath taking, in fact the two gods in general were very well done and there wasn't enough of them in my opinion.
The animation as a whole was very good and again compared to Origins this game is on a different level of good (hate to compare it to other games but Balders gate is probably the closest contender).
There's a particular scene with Lucanis as a romance where he walks over to you after you basically say you like what you see and that Spite doesn't define him, the way his face moves, the little smile, the way his eyes drop to your lips when you touch him floored me and I think having motion capture for this game definitely paid off.
The mechanics of the game were fantastic and as I've yet to play anything other than my mage I am excited to play other classes and possibly Warrior for the first time across 4 games, although Spellblade ruined a mage for me as I love being able to be upfront in a battle and found it perfect for my Crow mage.
I went with purple Rook for this playthrough as I wanted a charming Crow who had far too much energy and was awkward in the best way possible and loved every minute of it; Bioware has always been very clever at establishing the different personalities and how they affect the world around them. Going into a scene and having your Rook react by themselves depending on their personality makes the character feel real and that we aren't just following the same thread of dialogue.
When you first meet Solas they didn't lie that it would feel like an end game mission, the dialogue was fantastic, his voice actor is just incredible and he has a talent to be confident, insecure, determined and doubtful of his own words all in one and it was very easy to fall In love with Solas during inquisition.
I really enjoyed how the first decision you make as Rook ends with the gods escaping, either Harding or Neve being injured which puts doubts in your friendship and leadership from the beginning, that Solas who we'd believed to be the big bad was essentially trapped and looked like a kitten compared to these evil beings who want world domination, it really makes the player question how are we going to fix this massive mistake that we've created, because it takes the gods no time to get to work whilst we scramble to find a team and cleanse multiple parts of Thedas at the same time aswell as setting up base in the fade where we dig deep into the history of Solas and the ancient gods past.
The companions of this game I felt were individuals in their own ways with their own back stories and present problems but I felt as a whole weren't as good as say the previous game; there was no double crossing mages or people with their own greed and agendas, no hidden pasts like Blackwall which personally fell abit flat for me.
In fact I'd say the only one who had an interesting story was Lucanis after his imprisonment and demonic possession and the struggles that came with it.
I don't think I'll romance anyone else other than Emmrich as the others just don't interest me.
It just felt like you were constantly flitting to the Lighthouse and back to grind out companion tasks in order to gain approval and faction points, there was no option to just have a conversation like previous games instead it was very much on their terms and where you were in the game which was something i really missed.
Still, their personalities were very different and characters like Lucanis, Taash and especially Emmrich stole my heart very quickly.
The banter was top notch quality as per 👌 some of my favourites were from Taash and Lucanis, just being a Crow in the middle of their conversations about capes was hilarious at times.
The voice acting as a whole was very good, I felt with some characters particularly Neve it felt abit flat in moments but Bioware have a knack for finding talented voices; having someone as bubbly and excited as Bellara to the deadpan and slightly blunt at times Taash made for a very diverse team.
Returning characters was always a welcome and there were some surprising cameos such as Isabella in the Lords of Fortune faction.
I know alot of people were disappointed that this game felt limited in bringing over past choices but it needed to make sense; Sera isn't going to return and be found in the deep roads etc, it needed to serve a purpose to The Veilguards story and I'm happy with the ones we did get.
When it came to the three decisions from inquisition yes I was disappointed at first; why are we ignoring who drank from the well, why aren't we talking about Hawke, who's ruling Fereldon, who's Divine?.
I think we need to remember that after 4 games the decisions from little to big are so vast that there's simply no way to fit it all in and satisfy everyone and baring in mind this game is for new players too.
Having this game set outside of Ferelden means those decisions won't carry weight in Veilguard, who is divine won't affect us, where Hawke is doesn't affect us because we know they'll either be in the fade or fighting against the evil.
And yes a codex could of helped address any of this but again, it's a smaller team now at bioware and the focus is on Rook this time around, it's their turn and tbh reading codex' is time consuming when you've got gods to fight 😂
The only decision I really wanted brought over was who drank from the Well because as a Solasmancer he was so pissed at me but I think I know why it was glossed over.
I think having Solas being able to control your Inquisitor would have the issue of consent and violation and as a romance that doesn't feel right, especially given how Mythal basically manipulated Solas and used him as a slave it just goes into uncomfortable territory.
We could also argue that Solas absorbed Mythals essence so all that's left is her memories and the tiny fragment you find in the crossroads so essentially Mythal ceases to exist thus there's no pledge anymore for the inquisitor and that she only needed her help to fight Corypheus, who knows but I'm glad Solas wasn't able to do that to the Inquisitor.
The endgame was amazing, finally killing Ghilan'nain was so satisfying and Lucanis was an absolute bad ass doing it, seeing Solas become the dreadwolf and hearing his pained cries was heartbreaking even if he couldn't stop betraying my Rook 😂.
Forcing you as a player to lose a character despite high factions and hero status was brutal, and I unfortunately lost both Davrin and Assan. As much as I loved them both, it made sense to his character to die in that way, and Harding has so much more to do for the dwarves and titans.
I'll talk about Solas/Mythal and Lavellan on another post but I was very happy with how it ended, seeing the art concept of him making himself tranquil just shows how differently it could of gone, and I honestly expected them to die in each other's arms.
If I think of anything else I'll add it onto this post but yeah, 10 years man and it's over, well not over completely as I'm creating an Emmrich romance as we speak but I can't believe years of speculation and doubt is now in our hands forever.
Yes this game could of been better in parts and blew my expectations away in others but I loved it and I think the negative criticism over characters like Taash, the three previous decisions, crazy solasmancers which bring the team down is so unjust and people need to reflect on themselves as humans.
All I would say to those that critic this game as heavy as they have is to take their time and play it again, you'll find things you missed the first time around, really read the codex', just sit back and understand what the characters are saying, read between the lines and just take it back to beginning of this post, this game very nearly didn't happen and alot of talented people that have given you this game have lost their jobs so please just be grateful for what we do have and pray that this isn't the end of dragon age.
Edit:
The whole Varric thing was probably my least favourite thing about the game, not because he died but it just didn't make sense that Rook didn't know until the very end.
I had my suspicions because he was always tired and going back to bed and something about it didn't feel right.
For other companions to say "oh we thought you knew" was just silly, I could understand Solas using his powers to create an illusion but why not on all the companions because surely Rook at some point was like "Oh i'll take some food to Varric" or "have you been to visit him", without that Rook just sounds crazy 😂
#dragon age 4#dragon age the veilguard#dragon age#da4#solas dragon age#solas#dragon age spoilers#dragon age the veilgaurd spoilers#veilguard spoilers#solas x female lavellan#solavellan hell#lucanis dellamorte
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I think Shen Qingqiu (Jiu) dying by Binghe’s hand and Binghe’s hand only was the plan all along and why I think he makes such an interesting villain and why I don’t think he needs “redemption.” because in his eyes LBH was his only equal left so if he absolutely had to fall by anyone…it would have to be from him. He—in his eyes—already won.
Because here is the thing—In this hypothetical you are SQQ. An immortal peak master with massive imposter syndrome and an unchecked inferiority complex not at all helped by the only other person in the sect who is intimately aware of your background and also happens to be your superior and #1 enabler. Aforementioned enabler had abandoned you and is now in this dance of pity and poor communication (all directed at you) and not once do they explain themselves. A part of you doesnt really want them to because surely the only options are ‘I forgot you’ or ‘life was good and you weren’t worth going back for.’ So you’re also not giving them a chance to explain because having someone confirm out loud (‘you’re forgettable, you’re worthless’) what you already think about yourself in your head is wicked work.
Anyway you receive upon your peak one day a prodigy of a student, who never has any family come visit or send gifts, who is so sweet and kind and has nothing to do with anything. So you kinda hate him for it. Because how can someone who clearly has no one and from what you know came from nothing and no where important pretend like everything is or will be fine? Why lie to yourself like that? And if there is one thing you hate more than anything, it’s liars (see: The Enabler.)
So you make the life of this random, completely innocent bystander hell.
You tell them in more ways than one ‘you are forgettable and you are worthless.’ Why? Because you want them to break character. You want them on your level because then that’d be at least one more person who is. That’d be one more person who gets it. And if they hate you for it, it would be justified. It would be a truth. They’d actually have a reason.
So years later when they do come back, and they are broken beyond all recognition, and they hate you, and they hate them, and everyone has to pay—they are finally on your wavelength. This isn’t someone better or more principled than you. This isn’t someone you perceive necessarily as being lesser or an insult to your “good nature.” It’s an equal. And there is nothing that you would want or respect more than to at the very least, die by the hands of an equal.
#shen qingqiu#shen jiu#mxtx svsss#svsss#I don’t see a lot of ‘SJ deserves redemption#posts here as much as I do on tiktok#but everytime I’m like … confused 💀#because he is very much refusing his chances at every turn#like that’s his whole thing.
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Rinse and Spit - A Mouthwashing AU
I fully blame @hrhowling for infecting me with these brain worms, and @an-artist-complex for encouraging them.
So....
Here we go.
There is an intention to make this the first part of a series, but in case that doesn't happen, I at least wanted to make this first part stand alone.
Enjoy~
Word Cout: 2,100
Content Warning: Jimmy is his own content warning.
Curly had decided he hated the sun set. At least the sunset that seemed to be the only thing displayed in the Med Bay window screen. He hated every aspect of it.
He hated the way the reds and oranges were too bright, painfully so, constantly bathing his body in its burning light. He hated the way it flickered and tore, as if a company like Pony Express couldn’t have afforded to spring for a screen that actually worked.
Or, in light of recent news, maybe they really couldn’t after all.
He hated how it buzzed and crackled, never offering him a single moment of silence as he sat here.
He hated it so very much.
Yet he poured every ounce of energy he had into looking at it. Studied every pixel, every strange artifact of light.
Because what was the alternative?
The alternative was acknowledging the agony he was in, every moment, every breath, every slight shift in his body. The alternative was to stare into the metal ceilings of the Tulpar and worry about each and every seam. The alternative was to wiggle his limbs, and see if today was the day he had the strength and pain tolerance to sit up.
He deserved this. He knew he deserved it. It had become part of his regular cycle of thoughts, right alongside wishing for death, or praying that this is just some horrific dream he’d wake up from any day now.
But the longer he stared at that god damn sunset, the more he had to come to grips with reality. And every second of that reality was earned and deserved.
He often thought back to where he went wrong. And there was a lot of time to think.
He thought about telling... Him it would all be okay. How he listened to Him talk about how there was no survivors despite the efforts of the brave Captain Curly. Curly had been so confused about what He meant at the time. He could've seen the warning it was. The threat it was. Why didn't he go to the cockpit with Him?
He thought about Her, desperately hiding the gun so that even if she couldn't reach it, He wouldn't either. When she told him she was pregnant, told him a second time what happened. Curly had been so worried about Her hurting herself that he didn't even stop to think about how he was hurting her.
He thought about that late night conversation with Her. About the dead pixel on the screen in the Lounge. He had told her how he looked at the bigger picture. How true that was. Standing too far back to acknowledge the details, the important details. Why were there no locks on the sleeping quarter's door, but they needed a code just to get some fucking sweetener?
Anya...
Maybe that's why he stared so heavily at the sunset to his left. Maybe he was looking for a dead pixel of his own. Just something that could connect him to Anya. Something that could tell her that he Understood.
He stared at the sunset because what was the alternative?
The alternative was to look at the other side of the room.
Curly didn't get many visitors. He didn't blame them. Swansea wasn't paid nearly enough to look at his traitorous captain, and Daisuke was just a kid, one who didn't need an anatomy lesson.
No, Curly didn't get visitors. Only one of two people would ever be on that side of the room. And he couldn't dare look either of them in the eye.
He decided to try and sit up today. He hadn't tried in... Jesus, how long has it been? How long has he been sitting like this?
Regardless, he had tried a few times before. He was sick of sitting in his own filth. Festering in his own blood and pus. His body protested his every movement as he tried to prop himself up on the stumps where his hands once were.
I hope this hurts.
It did...
I hope this hurts.
It so very did. He couldn't do it.
He heard the heavy doors slide open, metal grinding against metal. He didn't look. He couldn't.
Please no...
"Feeling lively today, aren't we?"
Curly still couldn't look at Him. He knew what was coming.
"Hey. If you're awake enough to squirm, you're awake enough to look at me."
He still didn't move.
"I said Look at me."
Curly felt hands on his head, forcefully turned to face Him.
A face of a friend. Or, what was once a friend. Or, maybe not even that. Whatever he was then, it didn't change what he was now. A truth Curly tried to ignore, one that he was forced to stare at every day.
Jimmy was a monster.
"...You still think you're too good for us, don't you?"
Curly stared at Jimmy. Before, Jimmy would say things he thought unnerving, but ultimately harmless. He had made dark jokes before, things Curly would laugh at uncomfortably, and they'd move on. He'd say things that were needlessly defensive or aggressive, things Curly would try to talk him down from, with mixed results, and they'd move on.
Curly couldn't do either of those things now. Even if he could speak, he couldn't speak over the look in Jimmy's eyes. Was that emptiness always there?
Jimmy grabbed him by the collar of his hospital gown, pulling a wheezing gasp from his mangled throat.
"You think you're too good for us. For this job. Even when we're keeping you alive and cleaning up your blood and shit, you still think you're too good for us."
Jimmy made a sound, one that might've been a laugh or a scoff.
"Well. So much for your greener pastures."
Jimmy dropped him back onto the bed with a rough thud, sending shocks of pain up and down his back and head.
Curly watched as Jimmy casually, oh so casually, walked towards the desk scattered with pills. The former captain couldn't look at his despised sunset anymore. Not when he knew what was coming.
"At least you have these to make you feel better. Open up."
I hope this hurts.
It does.
I hope this hurts.
Jimmy is far from gentle in opening his mouth, shoving fingers against his tongue and down his throat. Curly chokes, he does every time. He had thought he at least would stop struggling from reflex, but his body fails him again.
He flailed his arms against Jimmy's shoulders and face as his mouth is wrenched further open and the pill is dropped in.
"Stop fucking moving."
Curly wheezed as Jimmy lifted his head up by his jaw and slammed him back down. Small mercies it's only against a pillow.
Jimmy used his fingers to shove the pill down his throat, either not knowing or not caring that he can't breathe.
It's over before Curly knows it, trying his best to gather his breath back as Jimmy's fingers retract. The two pilots look at each other, a pair of empty eyes meeting a lone trembling one.
"I'm fixing things. Stop looking at me like that."
Curly flinched, but it doesn't make the incoming punch any softer. Or the next two or three.
"You're not better than me, Curly. I'm the fucking captain now. And that means-"
"Jimmy?"
Curly's breath paused, his eye flicking back to the door. Anya stood there, compressed in her body language.
"What?"
"U-Uhm, Swansea wanted to see you? Something about a problem in the Lounge?"
"Unbelievable. Can't you guys do anything without me?"
"If it's not a good time-"
"No, no, I'll go take a look. Do my job. Someone has to around here, right?"
Curly watched carefully as Anya steeled her expression. She moved out of the doorway, no longer meeting Jimmy's gaze.
"Right... I'll take over from here."
"About time."
And with that, he's gone. Curly was aware how loud his breathing is. For once, even the buzzing of the window screen seemed quiet, drowned out in comparison to his labored breaths.
Anya moved to sit next to him. Just as she always does. She's always quiet, occasionally filling him in on the goings on of the ship. Told him about their precious Cargo.
Fucking Mouthwash.
What a joke.
Today, she's silent. Mostly just staring at the pain medications on the table across from her.
He wished he could say something to her. He wished he had his own dead pixel to point out to here. One hidden right under her nose, right here in Med Bay. Then she'd smile, maybe laugh a little bit about it, like she would've before-
Take responsibility
"How are you today, cap- Curly?"
Curly looked at her. Anya. Sweet Anya...
The best he could giver her was a shrug, even as it pulled painfully on his neck and shoulders.
"Quiet day today... We ran out of Chicken Noodle Soup. Looks like it'll be clear soup for now."
Take responsibility
Anya looked at him. Her eyes were empty to, but not like Jimmy's. Hers were drained.
"...Are you okay, Curly? I um... I heard Jimmy."
He didn't know what to think about that. She's asking him if he's okay? He doesn't drop his gaze, as much as he wants to. She deserves better.
And isn't that just the thing?
Anya deserves better. She always had. She should be in medical school, not drifting in a floating cage in who knows what section of the void of space. She should have had a better captain. A better crew. Someone who could-
Take responsibility
"Now you know how it feels."
Her voice cuts through him, her words akin to dumping ice water onto his chest. Her face said she regrets saying it the second it left her mouth.
But it took all the air out from Curly's lungs.
"I-I'm sorry, that was cruel..."
No, Anya, I deserved that.
"You know something silly?"
Curly tilted his head at her. She had his attention. Undivided. Even when it didn't mean much anymore.
"...I can't bring myself to hate you. Even though you got us into this mess. Even though you didn't do anything. I can't hate you."
You should. I should've said something. Done something.
"A part of me wants to. Would make things easier. Wouldn't fix anything, but it'd make things easier. I don't know how much I can keep going, Captain."
Curly's breath hitched, his eye flicking between her and the pill bottle.
He groaned, gurgled, tried to force his useless throat to make words. He knows she'd probably want to hear from him the least but... well, she should hear from someone.
"Don't try to strain yourself, Captain. Just... try to go to sleep. Forget I said anything. I'm sorry."
No, you shouldn't be sorry, this isn't your fault, I-
The door slid open one more time, and the both of them flinched. Neither of them looked at the door. They looked at each other instead. Dreading the same phantom opening his mouth and making some remark-
"We need to talk."
Swansea...
Curly looked at the round man, a grim expression on his face.
"Swansea, I just got back here, I can't leave him alone like that. He just had his pill, he could vomit, and I need to be there to adjust him if he does."
"It won't be long. But we need to talk."
"About...?"
"Something that needs to be done. Privately."
Swansea cast a dark look at Curly, a withering one. The mechanic and captain rarely saw eye to eye, especially during those last few days before the crash. He had never visited him in the Med Bay. Not that he blamed him.
"Is it a team meeting again? Is Daisuke and-"
"Daisuke has Jim distracted for a bit. This isn't a team meeting. This is a you and me meeting. Meet me in Utility, if you want."
Anya looked between him and Curly. "I really should keep an eye on him."
"You can do whatever you want. But I have a plan. You can either be in or out of it. Just figured you might want in."
Anya wrung her hands together, looking at the sunset.
"...You'll be alright, captain?"
Curly nods. He can at least give her that much. She doesn't have to care for him, not right now. She looks hesitant. He tries to nod a little harder, but the wheeze that escapes him betrayed his efforts.
"Whenever you're ready, Anya."
"...I am."
The two turn to leave. Curly groans, trying to get his voice to wrap around the words he wants. Words he should've said a long time ago. Words he doesn't think he'll ever be able to say.
Take responsibility
I'm sorry.
#mouthwashing#fanfic#my fanfiction#my writing#curly mouthwashing#anya mouthwashing#swansea mouthwashing#jimmy mouthwashing
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apologies
July 30, 2021
Matt walked into the lake house with Hayden after spending most of the day sitting outside with Hayden reading as the rest of the boys went out on the boat and the boys had just gotten back from being out on the year before they are all going to head out to dinner.
Hayden squeezed Matt’s arm as she saw Matt looking at the kitchen where Ryan was and knew he wanted to talk to Ryan and walked away to her room to get ready for dinner.
Matt took a deep breath and knew he needed to apologize because while he hasn’t been rude to Ryan he has not been nice and welcoming and that isn’t him. He doesn’t want to be on bad terms with someone who is so important to Hayden.
“Hey.” Matt said as he walked into the kitchen where Ryan was.
Ryan looked up slightly surprised to see Matt talking to him, “Hey man.” Ryan spoke back.
“Look i wanted to apologize,” Matt started and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “I’m sorry i haven’t being very kind the past few days, that isn’t me and i’ve just been in my head over somethings so i apologize.” Matt sincerely apologized.
Ryan smiled slightly titling his head. He knows Matt is nicer than he has been the last few days because Hayden is always talking about Matt and Hayden so a good judge of character.
He also has seen during the past few days just how soft and kind Matt is to Hayden and more specifically the look of love Matt has always around Hayden or even speaking about Hayden.
“It’s all good.” Ryan reassured him and smiled at Matt’s disbelieving face, “Really i get it. You were jealous because how close i am to Hayden.” Ryan said calmly, “Because you’re in love with her.” Ryan added nonchalantly making Matt freeze in shock.
Matt opened and closed his mouth before clearing his throat, “You figured that out quickly.” He knew there was no point denying it.
“Dude you are not hiding it.” Ryan laughed shaking his head, it was so obvious how in love Matt is with Hayden and the only one who doesn’t know that is Hayden.
Matt shrugged, “I don’t care who knows.” Matt honestly told him, he really doesn’t care who knows he is in love with Hayden he’s not trying to hide it and he would never hide his love for Hayden even if she doesn’t know of his feelings.
Ryan nodded glad that it is Matt in love with Hayden knowing he would treat her good, “Good.” Ryan agreed with Matt’s words. They started talking more about Hayden.
Hayden walked into the kitchen a few minutes with jean shorts, a blue cropped tank top and a white button long sleeve shirt that was unbuttoned and was wearing sandals not converse for once and her hair was actually down for once too.
“Are you going to get ready?” Hayden teased them both as she leaned against the kitchen counter and smiled slightly seeing the two get along easily.
Matt froze slightly as he looked at Hayden , he has always loved when she wear she hair down buy he shook his head trying to not get distracted by how beautiful she looks.
Ryan and Matt both nodded but Ryan left first heading to the guest room to get ready.
Hayden rested her hand on Matt’s arm squeezing softy, “Thank you.” Hayden gave Matt an appreciating look from apologizing.
“Of course.” Matt knew Ryan deserved an apology for how he acted the past few days.
“Now go get ready.” Hayden playfully shoved Matt’s arm.
Matt smiled fondly and looked at Hayden and took a deep breath, “You look beautiful.” Matt told her honestly before he walked out of the kitchen.
Hayden froze slightly as her eyes followed Matt as he walked away, she swallowed feeling confused why his words affected her so much.
#haydenblakeau#luke hughes#jack hughes#quinn hughes#nhl x oc#nhl au#jack hughes x oc#quinn hughes x oc#luke hughes x oc#new jersey devils#matt boldy#trevor zegras#trevor zegras x oc#cole caufield x oc#cole caufield#alex turcotte#vancouver canucks#edmonton oilers#connor mcdavid#leon draisaitl#ryan mcleod#ryan nugent hopkins#zach hyman#nhl#nhl blurbs#kailer yamamoto#nhl blurb#connor bedard#will smith hockey#macklin celebrini
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The Chaotic Duo.
A Ronin x Misaki fic
︻デ═一・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Misaki was sitting on top of a building. Shotgun by their side, phone in their shaky hands.
<@hitmeupp>: Anyone wants to be my assassination support?
This was yet another time when they send a message like this to the server, they always did that when the target was either too dangerous or they had a very shitty day. This was the former, their clients hired her to kill a CEO of a big filming company who was also entangled with some shady mafia business. The amount of armed men around him was really getting on the poor assassin's nerves, they just wanted an easy kill, is it so much to ask for?
Well while they were cursing their client in their head, they heard a silent DING, someone dmed them!
<@goreboy>: heard you Needed some Support
<@goreboy>: what's up?
Well, that was unexpected.
Ronin usually doesn't text her when she sends a message like that, it's usually Angel who helps them. Maybe she sent Ronin because she's busy? Yeah, that's probably it.
"Dude oh my fucking God, I am dyinggg here. Like seriously, how guarded can a guy be?" They sent him a short voice message, if Angel really sent Ronin to the rescue then he wouldn't be surprised by the voice message, right?
<@goreboy>: heh seems Like the Best assassin in The Whole fucking japan is really Stressing over a small fry
<@goreboy>: who's The target btw?
"Oh shut the fuck up, I can get stressed!- oh shit he almost looked this way... oops" They send the message and then sent another one. "Some guy who worked with the mafia, the money for him is high."
<@goreboy>: damnnn alr Then maybe shoot him Before He sees ya
<@goreboy>: we Don't wanna our Fav assassin dead
They chuckled at his respone.
"Awh stop or you'll make me blush while i'm killing someone." They said jokingly, Ronin could hear them loading their gun in the message.
<@goreboy>: maybe I'd like to See ya All blushy hm?
Misaki didn't see that message until after they left the rooftop, Ronin's message really did make them blush.
<@hitmeupp>: Oh stfu
<@hitmeupp>: He's dead
<@hitmeupp>: Thanks for the help
<@goreboy>: when You need help Call For the devil and He Will help You out
Ronin chuckled after he sent that reply.
Would he really help the assassin the next time they need help? Never say never, he could as well replace Angel and take some of her worries off of her shoulders, right? Also it's important to keep the server's members alive and out of jail.
Misaki in fact did use Ronin's help, texting him directly to help her out and he was there every time. His replies were different from Angel's, well that was to be expected, they are two different people with very different personalities.
Ronin was encouraging them more in the devilish style, he was flirting with them to keep their mind off of the nerves, made jokes about the target and fed Misaki's ego about them being THE assassin.
<@goreboy>: hey Wanna Call?
<@goreboy>: i'm Bored
Misaki was surprised to receive this DM, Ronin wants to talk, and he wants to do this only with them. Weird? Maybe a little. But he could consider Misaki's interest piqued.
<@hitmeupp>: Ofc babes
Immediately after sending that on their screen was a pop up.
@goreboy is calling.
They picked up without a second thought.
Normally Misaki wouldn't show anyone their living arrangements, but only did they know Ronin for two whole years, he also was pretty open about being in possession of their IP address which meant that he knew where and how they live.
"Hey, hey. What does the big devil want from little me?" Misaki asked once the call connected.
"Not much, jus' bored, and you're quite good at amusing me." Ronin replied with a confident smirk glued to his voice.
"Woah, am I your clown now?" They asked with a fake hurt in their voice.
"More like my personal chaos maker." He was obviously flirting with them, and Misaki wasn't going to let him have his fun alone.
"Maybe we could make chaos together then?" They joked, there was no chance for them to do it together in real life, even if Misaki wished that they could meet up... Wait, what?
"About that." Ronin's voice cut through Misaki's thoughts. "I just happened to get my hands on a plane ticket to Tokio, was wondering if you could be my guide." Ronin's words made Misaki's eyes widened.
"What!" They fell from their chair. "Ouch... wait, wait, wait! What do you mean you have a plane ticket? And to Japan?"
"Don't ask so many questions, you don't need to know." Of course Ronin wouldn't answer, he has to be a fucking mystery. A hot mystery who's really helpful...
"Yeah sure whatever, so you want me to be your guide?" They crossed their arms over their chest.
"Who's better to show me around than the best assassin the whole Japan ever saw?"
"Are you seriously feeding my ego just to get me to agree? Wow Ronin... Why does this actually work every time?" They whined. "Of course I will show you around." They smiled.
"Great, I'll be there next week."
"Wait, what-"
Aaand he hang up.
Yeah. very Ronin style.
"He's coming here? Oh fuck! Ronin IS coming here! Oh my god..." Misaki's voice was mix of stress and excitement.
They started to feel something for Ronin a while ago, but they didn't really know if it would work out. But with him showing up so randomly? Maybe it was a sign?
"Oh my god! Why does it make me so fucking excited?" They groaned and fell on their bed, their face buried in a pillow so they could scream their excitement out.
A week had passed without Misaki even noticing it.
They are standing near the airport exit with the most cheesy and cringey welcoming cardboard ever: "Here stands the devil's servant" written in English, with some edgy stickers all around the words.
It didn't take Ronin long to find them and he was barely keeping in his laughter when he approached Misaki.
"Damn, such a warm welcome. Makes me feel like royalty." He said with that cocky smirk of his.
"...Why are you even hotter in person?" Misaki asked bluntly.
"You're not too bad looking yourself, quite on the contrary, you look so much better in person." He said, Misaki didn't know if he was genuine or if it was just the regular teasing, but their poor heart still took the damage.
"Uh um, yeah! We need to get to your hotel!" They changed the subject, which was answered with Ronin's chuckle.
"Sure, lead the way darling."
The assassin couldn't say that their time with The Butcher was boring. It was anything BUT boring.
Not only did they spent some fun time at the local karaoke, ate some amazing food or did other fun activities. Ronin also made sure to do some illegal activities together, going around abandoned buildings, setting trashcans on fire, Misaki watching Ronin kill a guy, or Ronin waiting for Misaki after their assassination.
They had a good time together. And undoubtedly they grew closer. Close enough that Misaki stole Ronin's shirt from his hotel room and he let her do her thing.
"You're drowning in it." Ronin's voice came from behind Misaki who just put the t-shirt on.
"AH!" They yelled and turned around. "Man learn how to walk and make sound please?" They said and glared at him.
"Yeah, yeah. Anyway... You can keep it." He came closer to Misaki. "Suits you." He smirked.
Misaki's face turned red.
"Uh.. um... thanks?" They weren't sure how to interpret his words, but oh lord even without a proper interpretation their heart went crazy.
"Told you, you're my chaos maker." He whispered into their ear. "And we can just bring chaos to the world together."
Was that really the Devil's confession just now?
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As the two finally exited Alexander's office; they were the image of a glowing pair- all smiles and pure delight. Nobody could guess from looking at the two that one of them was a cold-blooded serial killer and the other was under a months-long hypnotically induced sex haze. Alexander made quick. precise work of cleaning the office- using bleach wipes and neatening everything back to where it had been before their tryst, erasing any evidence of Connor being there. He then gathered the very few important items from his office- namely his laptop and his file on Connor; those were the only two things that connected him to anything more than being a regular counsellor. He stored both things in an expensive leather briefcase that held everything else he truly needed, which again, was minimal as the sociopath had planned and lived carefully to appear normal but was prepared to disappear without a trace at a moment's notice.
The campus was quiet- since the killings had ramped up so much, people were afraid to simply be out-and-about on their own so nobody was really around to see the two leaving together. Nobody noticed Alexander walking his mindless lover to his dorm room to help collect his bare essentials. He couldn't help but run a hand along Connor's bed, "The amount of times I've watched you jerk off right here ..." he mused with a smile, "The amount of times I've slipped in here to steal your underwear or smell your pillowcase ..." he sighed blissfully as though he spoke of the most normal, delightful memories. "Just toss your things in here-" he instructed, snapping out of his daze for a bit to focus on the task at hand and tossing a black duffel bag on the bed, "Don't worry- We'll get you much nicer things; things fit for my beautiful bitch boy," he smiled, "We just need to make it look like you left of your own accord in case somebody decides to be a pain and come snooping," he explained with a sigh, now and then shaking his head and letting the younger boy know what to pack and what to abandon, leaving only college study-related items and other things that were unimportant. Connor's purpose in life would be him from now on, he wouldn't have need for material belongings.
He opened Connor's laptop while the other packed and emailed administration a notice that he was leaving the school and quitting his program before snapping the device closed and tossing it into the bag as well- he'd destroy it eventually, anything that could be used to trace Connor's whereabouts from this point would soon be taken care of. Once they were packed, including the spyware he'd planted across the dorm room, Alexander resisted the powerful urge to fuck Connor again as an poetic 'goodbye' to his former life and as a fulfilment to the fantasy he'd long had of doing that right here while watching the other through his secret cameras but his emotionless, computer-like brain told him they didn't have the time and it was risky to contaminate a scene with their joined DNA and also there was no time to waste.
Soon, Alexander escorted them to his vintage but unassuming vehicle, loading their belongings into the back, opening the door to usher Connor into the passenger seat, and then letting himself in and taking off into the early evening light. Once they'd hit the highway, it was all Connor could do not to let out a massive yell of accomplishment; he'd done it. He'd actually fucking done it. He looked over at Connor with a wicked grin and took his hand, kissing the back of it. All these long, arduous months of careful planning and ruthless killing had paid off- he'd won his prize. Connor was his and his alone. The thrill and the realization of it all were some of the first and only things Alexander had ever really felt and that was how his brain convinced him that this wasn't some heinous crime or psychopathic spiral- this was destiny. His blood was pumping and the excitement now manifested itself in another way ...
"Baby ..." he cooed over to Connor, "Be a good little boy and take care of this, will you?" he hummed casually before using his free hand that wasn't on the steering wheel and reaching it behind Connor's head, then pulling the other down and across their seats so that the other's head was in his lap, face-to-face with a his hard and pulsing crotch, still tucked beneath the layers of his clothing, "Remember ... 'No thoughts ... only Master's cock'."
Connor knew he had lost this fight. His deepest desires, the carnal needs that went beyond all reason, had won out. At least for now - but did it make a difference? Even if his suppressed consciousness, the part of him that was able to form enough proper thoughts to see Alexander for what he was and what he'd done, was to regain enough strength to take back over - a line had been crossed that he couldn't come back from. He had given himself up, had allowed a monster, a psychopath to claim him, to use and take his body and turn him from an abstract object of desire into a very real 'lover', for lack of a better term. In Alexander's twisted mind, Connor surely was exactly that. And in the boy's subconsciousness that had been pulled to the forefront? This man wasn't a psychopath, not a murderer. He was a protector, the one he needed to submit and devote himself to, because that would equate pure bliss. No worries, no fears. No thoughts. The only need he felt was to be taken by Alexander, to be fucked, and while his own body convulsed and came, he felt his only true need fulfilled in the same moment. Alexander's seed filling him, pushing his struggling consciousness once again way back into the locked away parts of his psyche.
His fear, his terror, his disgust - not at Alexander, but himself - was drowned out by bliss, the endorphines flooding his system making Connor push away the horror he should feel at the fact that he'd just had climaxed to the gigantic cock of his friends' murderer pounding him like a living sex doll. Alex's words echoed in his brain like a mantra - no thoughts, no worries. Only the other man. Only being made to feel this ecstatic bliss, only being kissed. Connor did not respond, only smiling softly with his gaze feeling absent, only a whimper coming from the brunette when the larger man pulled out of him. An anxious young man like Connor wasn't exactly having a lot of sex these days, and certainly not with a man as hung and virile as the therapist, leaving the student feel rather empty, almost disappointed at the sensation of the other's seed spilling out of his tightness, clenching his entrance not to lose Alexander's gift, eagerly licking every last drop off of the man's fingers when he fed the cum to him.
He heard every word Alexander said, although seeming rather absent-minded upon the madman's monologue about finding them a proper home. Connor's instinctive urge to flee, to run from the other and go to the police, had resigned for the moment, barely struggling to even come to the forefront of the young man's mind. Instead, he smiled with oddly empty eyes, happy that all his reasons for worry and anxiety were gone. He let Alexander dress him, still feeling the warmth of the man's cum inside him, and internalized the sociopath's words as he repeated them like he was being indoctrinated. "Nothing else matters except being a good boy for Master." Humming happily, he nodded as Alex said it was time to go - not that Connor had any clue where they were going. That wasn't for him to worry about. Master would take care of it.
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The Mountain and The Runner
"Runner" is a misnomer, Delmas takes a cab as much as possible.
But he is quite fast, despite what the softer physique might suggest.
So there's a thing in Pale Blood what comes up a few times, and that is Delmas' old career, as a holo-boxer (meaning his matches were projected in the center of Upper Dolor and he was kind of a big deal).
When he was boxing, he was known as The Mountain ("because no one could topple him") and was just as big but also kinda shredded and hard as his namesake. He also had long hair, took better care of his beard, and lived in the sun so was a little less pasty. He was also a bit of an asshat that took advantage of his groupies.
Ten years later and he's a softer mountain, with shorter hair (there's reasons but they're amusing and so I won't spoil them), who lives in the slums with the smog that refuses to let any sun in (but enough to terrify full-blooded fangs)...and he is still a force to be reckoned with. When he can be assed to try. He is also decidedly less of an asshat.
I wanted to try and draw both of these versions of this character...for man practice, and also because I like him quite a bit and he's a lot of fun to write.
I hope they amuse you.
#pale blood#sketch#character design#den prefers the softer mountain#but the one on the left that was very important to him once#from afar#he didn't know that one#it is important to note that Delmas may have a tummy and softer curves but he's by no means out of shape#he's just not starving himself and working out constantly#this is important to me to note#his scars come up in the book exactly once for a joke and never again#but i had to draw them
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Seems like Yoshiki’s eyes are starting to lose shape whenever he’s stressed out, starting with his left pupil getting more jagged when he’s putting back ‘Hikaru’s head in ch22, and then in ch24, his left iris moves to the side.
#I did think the right could’ve been an eye shine or whatever#But applying parsimony to this#I can only find one example of Yoshiki having an eye shine (ch13 when he’s talking to Mikasa about kaourus yukata)#So it would be very atypical for him to be draw with one#However him becoming more and more inhuman is an important plot point#So it would be less to presumptuous to think these are connected scenes of Yoshiki becoming more like ‘hikaru’ in regard#Of having his left eye shift when he grows upset#Than moku was feeling a little silly today and gave him an eye shine#the summer hikaru died#hgsn#hikaru ga shinda natsu#hgsn spoilers#my hgsn shit#HGSN eyes#Once again having a ‘who’s glasses are these in ch10’ moment#Wherein I’m scouring pages looking for times Yoshiki has an eye shine#In order to dispel the strawman I put up myself#If you have any more examples of eye shine Yoshiki or Yoshiki w/ messed up eyes#Feel free to add to this post w/ them
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okay.
so it's either a very fancy very nerdy little anvil paperweight
OR
little tyelpe had a teeny tiny forge-like dollhouse made for him by feanor, who painstakingly designed every tiny detail and made all toy equipment himself because tyelpe, too young to be in forge, insisted that he absolutely needs to be a smith like his father and grandfather and needs to begin learning now.
and who was feanor to refuse his only grandson who wanted to learn his craft when he only started to walk without bumping into everything? feanor would be elated and would spend hours playing with tyelpe in his little forge. it was before the silmarils when feanor had all the time in the world for his beloved grandson.
the anvil was one of many parts of that dollhouse, one of few that made it to beleriand and the only one that made it through to the second age with celebrimbor.
he could never make himself part with it.
#yeah#nothing better than taking a look at an item appearing for like 1 second and making a heartwrenching headcanon#i love stabbing myself with angst#i headcanon that celebrimbor was very young when they left valinor#not a toddler but maybe an equivalent of 7-8 year old#old enough to understand some things but young enough to be absolutely traumatized#based on that one absolutely amazing fanart of curufin and little tyelpe where he apparently had a nightmare#and curufin says 'no one is coming to take you' and tyelpe responds with 'but they took uncle nelyo'#i saw it some 3-4 years ago and i kid you not it randomly appears in my brain just to haunt me#so he is still a child and was allowed to take some of his toys and obviously his little forge had to come with him#not all of it only some parts because there were more important things to pack#and feanor promised him they would make the missing equipment together once they settled down and were relatively safe#and then he died#and then over the years some of the toys were lost and some were broken#and then celebrimbor was no longer a child and when they had to run he packed food and clothes and weapons not his toys#but this little anvil he would snuck into his pack anyway#and against all odds the anvil made it through the first age unscathed#if there was one thing reminding him of better times it was this#somebody fucking sedate me#brainrot has taken control over my every thought literally#celebrimbor#tyelpe#telperinquar#curufin#feanor#rings of power#beleriand#valinor#first age#silmarillion
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1.10 / 1.09
#something to be said not just about how Ibrahim aims to replace his past family with his present bond with Süleiman (and Musti and Mahi#branch off of that bond) but also how Hatice fits in all of this - the one Ibrahim leans on everytime he's likely to lose SS is *her*#she isn't just the future he wants to secure in the castle but also the past he yearns for outside of it especially in that initial period#of their relationship; and not just any past but a very particular fragment of it - the next most valuable person of his past other than#his brother: his *mother*. it's no wonder him playing *his mother's* melodies with the violin marks the beginning of their story and stays#an important motif throughout. just like Ibrahim's mother Hatice is so familiar yet so out of reach (and this unreachability accumulates in#E13 - Ibrahim leaves for Parga thus returning to his past but leaving Hatice behind but *then* finding out his mother is gone too.#*both* people he wants to be close to soo much are *gone* in that moment. there's a link between them because of this. also Hatice tieing#lbrahim's mother to “heaven” as well and her “looking at their happiness from above” Ibro responds with in E14.) Hatice will distance#more and more from that role later on until lbrahim starts to outright abandon this whole 'return to the past' idea with Hatice and#search for it through Nigar instead. but yeah anyway I feel these two scenes are the perfect encapsulation of how complicated#the past is for lbrahim; he avoids remembering it because it *hurts* to remember both because why would he remember it when he already has#an established future and because deep down he resents what he's become and established as that isn't ever permanent and he's lost all else#*himself* most of all as who is a person without his roots? he wants to forget them but can't ever do it so what's left is replacing them#*all of them*; when he finds Hatice too he wants to have *both* her and Süleiman and SS marrying Hatice off directly challanges that want#up to that point he believed in the possibility of their love more than Hatice did; now? he seems as lost as she is not knowing what to do#the only way not to lose either of them is accepting Süleiman's order convincing himself that this is how it should be no matter how much#that hurts and would bury him even deeper; he can't bear it so he searches for a solution - and when he sees Rhodes sea? it hits him#it hits him how low he's actually sunk through the losses and if he can't “fully* replace the past he'll *fully* return to the past letting#*everything else* once hidden out as well. not to mention how right before he left to Parga he was brought to fear for his literal death#and then he is given more power that also brings some uncertainty with it and that likely scared him cementing his departure for Parga#directly following Piri Pasha's advice to let power go as it won't let *you* go#(btw a big contrast between S01 and S03 Ibrahim can be drawn in his relationship with Piri Pasha and his relationship with Ebusuud)#magnificent century#muhteşem yüzyıl#muhtesem yuzyil#ibrahim pasha#(sorry for the disorganized tags but if I kept it like it was I would've exceeded the limit before I even finished 😅)#(just Ibrahim and Hatice in general are people who latch onto each other to get over their losses and ache for peace amidst their turbulent#lives and positions and that's what keeps them close and will later too)
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