#which is mighty odd

[evilmagician430]

[inkskinned]

how odd, to watch the creative writing exercises of angry men in the comments of instagram. you noticed it first in the comments of conventionally attractive women - but then it started appearing everywhere else, too.

a young man talks about what lunch he's packing his wife. there is a little story under it, with 300 likes, fabricated from nothing. "this is pointless. if you treat her like this, she will take the lunch to her office and fuck her boss and divorce him and take all his money."

you scroll. a young woman talks about what lunch she's packing for her husband. it is always uglier when the subject of the video is a woman, you've noticed. "you sit on camera and you smile and you are cheating with the neighbor and then you're going to lie about being sexually assaulted by your husband and -"

you stop reading. it has 567 likes.

where did this even become a thing? people making up stories in their head, disgusting long-winded assumptions about intention and sexual disgrace. the evil twin of fanfiction.

like - it's just a lie. it's a lie that they are telling, baldfaced and assumptive. the undercurrent is of course misogyny, but the trouble is that they're so fucking certain. that's what makes the hairs on the back of your neck rise. there is this pervasive, inventive desire for them to be right. that they must be right. all women are cheating, lying, gold-digging bitches. no exceptions.

in the reverse, when women say i'd rather meet a bear in the woods than a strange man - men funnel in from the sides. they defend each other with a vibrance and capacity for empathy you wish applied to like, the other half of the population. a man could be saying i absolutely did kill her and these creatures in the comments would rise up with king shit. she made it happen. they love each other to the point of this sick strange self-gaslighting, a fervent and unhinged cognitive distortion. all men are good, wonderful people. all women are terrible, conniving, seditious, annoying.

and when did it become okay to just, like... say that kind of a thing? at one point, you find yourself typing out a witty and snappy retort. why are you spending so much time fantasizing about other people babe. but as you stare at the screen, some part of you pictures this man in public, saying these things to your face. his soapbox, high and mighty. his mirrored sunglasses and his empty life: tired and lonely.

what a sad and horrible loop he's locked in. he is terrible to women, so women don't talk to him, which he uses as an excuse to act more terribly. he blames this "failure" on women, rather than on his behavior. it cannot be that he is the problem (that the solution is to just put his ego down and accept women as equals) - he begins to invent a sculpture to replace the flesh frame of each person he sees.

it isn't just a woman posing on the beach. it is now a slut with a desperate need for each person to crave her body. it isn't just a woman yelping with surprise during something upsetting. it is a hysterical, unhelpful cretin who will probably make things worse instead of better. it isn't a person.

someone's very sweet wedding vows get moderate attention on instagram. in the comments, a man says good fucking luck you'll waste your life providing while behind your back she's absolutely fucking the best man. this will be so cringe in 2 months when she walks out on you.

you think - is that what you need to be true? is that what you need to happen, for the world to make sense to you?

[essektheylyss]

I understand the impulse to clown on Essek for walking around in Vasselheim with his recognizable voice with the Bright Queen's spearhead commander, and of course we could turn to the metatextual elements (the necessity of signposting the world for players on the part of the GM, the ease of using a familiar ally to introduce a relevant NPC and new point of contact) to dismiss this if we wanted, but I think it's more interesting—and funnier, as you'll see—to imagine this as simply an extension of the laws and logic that dictate the Mighty Nein as a narrative entity.

Fundamentally, the Mighty Nein within their campaign pursue personal and collective agency, often at the expense or in denial of political power. Where they do interact with more political forms of power, they evade its grasp upon them, most notably in their interactions with the war, but also while they engage with the Cerberus Assembly, the Cobalt Soul, and even the Revelry. The way they pursue agency, on the other hand, has far more to do with their own support of one another and their own individual power, especially where there is magic involved, and manifests in having the freedom to move and act as they wish in the world.

The culmination of this, as we know, is the mechanical ability in their final battle against Lucien and the Somnovem to manipulate the terrain of the battle map to their advantage with only imagination. At the same time, Jester and Caduceus can both call in free favors from their gods, one of whom is unlimited by the Divine Gate and in fact is far more governed by fey logic. Fjord has made three different divine pacts and is virtually unrestricted by any of them. Caleb's hallmark is an almost infinitely malleable home that almost literally seems to operate as a hammerspace, with a pinnacle dedicated to the potentiality of the universe, the application of which is one of his signature spells—against all odds successful in his initial goal, no longer fueled by guilt and grief, of bending reality to his will. It's narratively and thematically cogent that this be the calling card of the party as a whole.

The Mighty Nein are, in effect, dictated by Looney Tunes logic, and nothing else. They have been so successful in their pursuit of their own freedom that they no longer abide by the cosmic laws of Exandria, let alone the laws of physics or sense. So yes, from an external point of view, it does look exceedingly foolish for Essek to be traipsing around in Vasselheim under the Bright Queen's nose, but it's far more entertaining to argue that being a member of the Mighty Nein in fact simply confers the capability of ignoring the laws of reality without consequence when it's narratively convenient, characteristically interesting—or just really fucking funny.

[edenesth]

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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[cuprohastes]

The humans said "We sent our very best to the stars."

Well we looked at what they sent: And thought, if that's their best, what are their worst like? They were scavengers and opportunists, fast talking con artists, barely restrained psychopaths with mayhem on their mind.

Honestly we were expecting the worst: That 'human' would be a curse word, that we'd have to root them out painfully and banish them back to their dirty heavy world.

But they cleaned up Antichor. They dredged the oceans, got the ecosystem back up, cleaned the mine lakes, remediated the sludge swamps, turned the hulks into gleaming ingots.

"We knew how. We had the experience." They said.

The humans started showing up in the weirdest places. Conflicts of all sorts... and they always had questions. "Why are you doing this? What if tehy did this. What if you did that?" And it was so odd - Within weeks of the Humans showing up, common ground would be found, or reasons to get along would appear.

"Well, we're used to it. We know how to deal with conflict." They said.

And the human liars, dressed in bedazzling clothes, singing and laughing... They spun lies! For entertainment! Of better worlds, and drama, of excitement, of adventure. Thay made such spectacles - Fire in the sky of a thousand colours - smoke and lasers, costumes and music, feats of synchronised movement the Civil Worlds had barely imagined could be performed by any being let lone these strange humans...

"We know how to have a good time!" They said.

When there was a nasty little war of expansion over on the Veran worlds, we thought we'd be barely in time to document the mass graves and the scraps of planetary genocide. Expansion wars are the worst of crimes but what can you do? The settlers who are squatting on the graves of the people who came before aren't usually the ones who ordered the invasion or carried it out. And there's always some justification that can be argued over for centuries: none of which brings the dead back.

We were horrified to find the Human fleet there. Finally proof that the Humans were the worst sort of mercenary.

But the ships had aid: Shelters and food. Medical personnel. And those that did fight did so under strange rules that allowed for surrenders and retreats in good faith.

The Verans talked of the Arnath Invasion fleet: Unstoppable, claiming thier worlds before they even landed, their leaders ranting and cursing those who lived there - But then the Humans arriving like heroes of legend, in flame clad dropships, spending their lives hard, making the Arnath throw incredible effort to get nowhere... Of the mighty Rangers, each one a hero. The Bulwark infantry who wouldn't yield a single step until the civilians had been evacuated. The Medical teams as caring as any, who'd stand and fight as hard as a soldier to protect their patients.

And even before we arrived, the Arnath were losing - Humans arriving on their world and asking "Why?". Arguing with the Archons with the skill of philosophers, litigating on behalf of the Verans with cunning arguments. The clowns and entertainers with unexpected savagery, showing the population their own "heroic" soldiers burning crops and firing on children, turning the population against thier bloody handed leaders.

The soldiers returning, not hailed as heroes, their crimes documented.

"We know these crimes. We won't stand for them." The humans said.

And we started to wonder... what else did they know?

What we know now is... you can always ask the Humans, because they always send their best.

[harmonysanreads]

When you hug them for the first time.

characters : al haitham, neuvillette, scaramouche, furina

cw(s) : very gentle yandere themes, everyone is surprised pikachu in different styles

──⚝ al haitham

For the first time in his life, while being at least two consistent steps ahead of everyone — Al Haitham finds himself at a loss.

Perhaps that had been your intention as well, a part of him suspects. You were certainly not the first in this endeavor, seeing a usually composed person behave contradictorily to their nature is, unfortunately, the source of amusement for a specific group of people and, bewilderment for unsuspecting onlookers. Albeit, the Scribe doubts the former to be your main objective because, the last wicks of rebellion were snuffed out by his persistent hands. The mesolimbic pathway of the brain is known to regulate incentive salience and many reward related behaviors, Alhaitham knows this much because of continued perusal. Indeed, science can explain many things, logic can place things on a concrete scale.

The Scribe may also try to rationalize the feelings you create within him in ways that fit his comfort zone, but, more often than not, they fail to prove satisfactory. You alone have the supreme power of luring him out of his shell by simply existing beside him, and he, the foolish scholar parched in search of enlightenment, follows the mirage's call each time. Many have tried to tear his ataraxia to shreds and only one has succeeded. Which is why, he remains still, unmoving, muscles terse from the pull of his pride. Maybe giving a last chance to his ego, seeing, if ignoring this gnawing addiction would shoo it away for good, and of course, he is a foolish man.

He hadn't done anything in that precise moment but, later that night, he had held you tighter than he ever had.

──⚝ neuvillette

It is universally acknowledged that justice bends to no one, but, what verdict should be declared upon the person, who drives the very symbol of justice insane?

It is both Neuvillette's delight and agony the control you have over him. You keep him dangling by your finger and the odd thrill that spreads across his soul from it, entices him to further entangle himself in this intoxicating chase. Sometimes, he's yanked to awareness by his conscience, it should be insulting for a man of his stature to be so helplessly smitten. The thought that he, the mighty Sovereign of Hydro, is just as susceptible to temptation as an ordinary man is, should appall him. Perhaps, they did concern him initially. Would it not have been wise to uproot the source of this burgeoning obsession from his heart when he still had the chance? Before this exact scenario which he knows will plummet him to a trench he won't be able to—will not want to—return from?

Yes, that would have been a reasonable decision. But, it'd not be so exhilarating. A drowning man from whose fingertips the surface has already escaped, finds peace in the feeling of sinking to the unknown depths. Neuvillette embraces his fall and, you'd think such desperation was impossible from one single man if you didn't feel it pressed to every inch of your skin. The Iudex's sigh will blow over your hair and in your arms will he rediscover his breath. How utterly foolish of him, why did he deny himself this sanctuary for so long?

Neuvillette is so dazed from the peace that, he wouldn't mind dying in that moment, if only he could remain in your embrace.

──⚝ scaramouche

It really is a mistake to give a man an inch who unashamedly steals a mile, but, it's too late for you to reconsider now, isn't it?

Innocent Kabukimono likes the feeling of being in your arms, it reminds him of a distant night where his mother brushed his tears aside. But, a part of him knows the way your gesture translates to him isn't quite what he had felt from his creator. Your embrace makes him secure, just like hers — but, it makes tiny sparks bloom in his vacant ribcage as well. He doesn't know what it is, or, if he wants to know. All he's certain about is that, he wants to remain in your arms forever, tucked away from the merciless eyes of fate.

Kunikuzushi's wary eyes dart across you in anticipation of a dagger at his back or, a triumphant smile for having discovered his weakness. It's not that he doesn't like this, but, more so that he can't bring himself to not complicate the gesture. Why do you give him something that no one has bothered with? He thinks it's better he remains careful—though he doesn't pull away—because, it'd break him beyond repair if you betrayed him, too.

The Balladeer is startled, out of every one of your tricks to render him speechless, this one has been the most effective yet. You should probably stick to this from now on (not that he'll say it out loud). The Harbinger would rather swallow those tooth-rotting dango than admit that there is some genuine kindness left on this cursed planet. As much as he suspects you of fostering ulterior motives, he isn't as caught up in it as Kunikuzushi that every other detail eludes his judgement. He makes a show out of how annoying he finds it, how much inconvenience you're causing him by the grip of your arms. You'd believe his words and ‘irritated’ body language as well, had his fight with the curve of his lips wasn't so blatant. Perhaps, you should apologize for hugging him without permission with a kiss, hm?

The Wanderer wonders what beget this expression of kindness. In his lone vagrancy, he's encountered the sight of these gestures periodically. His curiousity yearned to know what significance was contained in an embrace, how it felt and why he was never at the receiving end of one. These questions were pushed at the depths of his soul—or whatever it is that lets him ‘live’—where they festered into want and then hunger. This slumbering appetite was emboldened on the day he willingly bore the memories of his past. But, the weight of a lifetime rendered him tired. For once, he did not want to think, suspect or tease ; he only wished to be held without restraint.

Which is why, Wanderer is the only version of this puppet who returns your embrace.

──⚝ furina

Not even acute mastery over the art of improvisation could've prepared Furina for this out-of-script situation.

It should've come as no surprise to her, she's been the center of a nation's adoration for five centuries, people of Fontaine flock in line for the chance of catching a glimpse of their Regina. You must've been unable to contain the immense affection you have for her, just like everyone else! But, for some reason, that thought feels bitter on her tongue when applied to you. She realizes that comparing your affection to the one her people shower her with leaves her with a howling dissatisfaction. The warmth of your being and the tentative tightening of your arms make her legs wobbly, send her heart prancing and her stomach twisting in the most pleasant way.

Of course... the citizens of Fontaine love her for her performance, for the role she plays ; not and never for herself. But, the percipience that you may love the cowardly, lonely and pathetic girl she truly is — tumble upon her like a plethora of bricks and almost make her faint. When she lifts her arms next, the notion of her returning the hug is tossed promptly in the flurry of tickles. You're forced to succumb to the enticement of hearty chuckles and, she joins you — hoping that, the raucous sound of laughter will conceal the tears streaming down her face.

And she prays that, just for this one moment, she wouldn't be judged guilty.

happiest new year to whoever is reading this, you are lovely and you'll continue to shine in the next year(s) as well<3

[glitter-stained]

Batfam Lantern AU:

Some of my hcs for Lantern!batfam and how they came to be.

Jason: Fuck, I hate you guys so much... All high and mighty, pretending like you give a shit when you keep enforcing a system that's not fucking working...

Tim: hey what's that in the sky?

Dick: God you're such a fucking asshole, if you hate us so much why are you even here?

Jason: Well because some poor fucker has to make sure-

Duke: Jason, watch out!

Jason: *gets knocked out by the sheer extreme speed at which the violet ring flung itself at him.*

****

Tim: Hey Dick, how are you? We heard about that argument you had with Bruce, and reopening old wounds and everything...

Dick: That's sweet, but I'm doing great, don't worry! Punched a bunch of criminals, hung out with friends, now I feel amazing. Of course, if it gets me an excuse to hang out with my little brother...

Tim: Cool, because I'm already breaking into your apartment and I'm -woah, what the fuck is that?

Dick: Oh, you like my new suit?

Tim: what the fuck holy shit is that a red lantern ring? Can you take it off?

Dick: I mean, I think I'll die? It's fine, it's fine, totally cool. Probably someone will have an idea how to fix it if I need to. I'm perfectly calm!

***

Izzy: Hey Duke, you feeling good about physics?

Duke: Wait what's in physics?

Izzy: The test...? That's gonna count for like half our grade...?

Duke, who meant to study this weekend but spent it sleeping off opioids after Croc nearly entirely gnawed off his foot: Ah, right, the test. It's going to be fine! I've figured stuff out with worse odds.

Izzy: If you say so! Hey what's that hovering ominously around you?

Duke, absent-mindedly pocketing a blue ring: hold on a second, gotta dip, Dick is texting me he needs help. You'll never guess what stupid shit he's gotten himself into.

***

Damian: Jordan! I challenge you in combat for the right to your ring!

Hal: Eh, kid... You really need a green lantern ring?

Damian: I shall prove I am as worthy of this honour as the rest of my fami- will you quit gazing off? What are you staring at?

Hal: *wordlessly points at the indigo ring floating behind him*

Damian: oh.

[residentinsomniacartist]

wait wait wait guys have you ever thought about how the Mighty Nein are everything they shouldn’t be upon first glance

no no guys guys listen to me they’re all the antithesis of what they’re meant to be and that’s why they’re such amazing and heartfelt characters

like, Caleb is a wizard who’s afraid of his own fire magic. his own power causes him to falter in battle. his strongest spells are his most dangerous to himself. wizards are supposed to be prideful of their magic, but Caleb’s is the reason he hates himself

Beau is a monk who never wanted to be. her job is one that people normally associate with being calm and collected and Beau was a wild rebellious kid who got dragged into this line of work against her will. she never wanted to be this!! but now she is and she’s gotta deal with it!!

Fjord is a warlock who never wanted power from his pact, which is why you’d think a warlock would make their pact at all. but no. Fjord made his pact because he wanted to live, not because he wanted power. he was a scared orphan who hated his tusks, not a buff, muscled, angry half-orc like people assumed

Nott is NOT, that’s the whole crux of her narrative! she wasn’t pretty, like a halfling girl was supposed to be. she wasn’t a goblin, she was just transformed into one. and not only that, but despite being a three-foot-tall alcoholic kleptomaniac, she’s the mom of the group!

Jester is a Cleric whose god isn’t actually a god and who would much rather bash bad guys over the head with her lollipop than have to stop and heal her friends!! she’s a bubbly, optimistic ray-of-sunshine, but you know when she says she’s gonna change the world with friendship she means it as a threat

Mollymauk is an amnesiac, but he doesn’t want to remember who he was. if you ask him, that wasn’t him! he might be a flirtatious hedonistic carnie, but he’s also single-mindedly devoted to making the world a better and more loved place than it was when he found it. he’s a liar, but he means well. he’s an arrogant fool, yes, but he’s right! he did it! he left it better!

Caduceus seems like he’d be creepy and grim from growing up in a graveyard, but he’s actually the most chill out of the entire Nein by far. he’s calm, he’s sweet, and he’s comforting, more than anything else. you’d think he’d be amazed by seeing the outside world for the first time, but he spends the whole time knowing that one day he’ll return home, that he wasn’t supposed to be the one to leave

Yasha is a barbarian with skeletal wings and a dramatic, monochromatic look, but she’s a complete sweetheart. she’s Molly’s best friend, she was a carnival bouncer, she’s a lesbian disaster who collects pressed flowers in a book out of love for the wife she lost. those black wings were actually hiding soft white feathers

Essek was born straight into the den of politics, he was a spymaster, he literally started a war for his own gain, and yet. he’s sounds irredeemable on paper, but. he’s not!! sure, the Nein kind of have to drag his alignment kicking and screaming into neutral, but they manage it. Essek learns and grows and he overcomes his nature. he becomes good, against all odds

guys guys guys don’t you see it!! look at them!!they’re such compelling characters!! they’re everything they’re not supposed to be!! dude y’all how didn’t I realize this earlier!! they subvert their narratives in the most interesting ways ever and I justhshsbhshshsjnsmshsnhsfn!!

[valerie-is-in-the-cupboard]

Birthday present - Alastor x fem!reader

Hello! It's my birthday today, and I wanted to share something sweet and on-theme. Just a heads-up, I’ve just finished writing it, so please excuse any mistakes. I hope you enjoy!

Words: ~2100 TW: mostly none, just some light swearing and some light mentions of sex

It wasn't usual for Alastor to forget important things. Important dates, appointments, details... They all had their special place in his head. In fact, his attention to detail was one of the things you admired most about him.

It struck you as odd when you woke up alone in the morning, the bedsheets on his side of the bed cold and undisturbed, a sign that he didn't bother to sleep last night.

You got out of bed, dragging your body across the room, to your bathroom. Your eyes fell on your reflection, taking in the faint bruises on your neck that Alastor loved to see - a simple, yet powerful reminder to anyone who would even think about approaching you that they should reconsider such a reckless act.

You wore a nice red gown, thinking that maybe it would make him consider giving you a small, special present... if he would've bothered to come to bed at all.

But you shrugged it off, knowing who you were dealing with and that his unpredictable behavior shouldn't bother you at this point.

You got dressed as you usually did - sliding into your clothes as your mind still wandered. Maybe he forgot... Maybe you weren't as important to him as you thought.

You shook off the feeling that came over you, deciding you would not let him destroy today. So, you made your way to the hotel lobby, ready to do anything, anything to take your mind off it.

A slight sense of anxiety came over you as you made your way there, but a sudden pressure on your leg stopped you in your tracks.

Niffty held tightly on your ankle, rubbing her face on your soft skin. You chuckled as you crouched down to her level. "Well, good morning to you too, Niff."

She grins and looks up at you with big eyes and a giddy smile. "Happy birthday!!!" she shouted happily, holding a necklace made of dead roaches and a few flowers. Your skin crawled a little at the sight, but you couldn't help but feel touched by her gesture.

"Aw, Niff! This is so... endearing!" you said as you watched her smile grow. "I love it!"

Her eyes sparkled, shining brighter than you'd ever seen before as she bounced up and down with excitement. "I got it just for you! And it's made from the finest roaches in all of Hell! And I even added some pretty flowers to make it all pretty!"

"It's wonderful, Niff. Thank you!" she put it around your neck, hugging you tightly.

"You're welcome, silly! I knew you'd love it! You love bugs just as much as I do!" She pulls away slightly and grabs both of your hands, swinging them back and forth like a child. You laugh awkwardly at her statement, not really knowing something farther from the truth, but you go along with it. You get up, and she follows you to the others.

Angel Dust walked into the lobby right as Nifty was giving you the roach necklace, giggling a little as his lips curled into a smile. "Wow, that's a mighty nice gift Nift. Really makes ya' sparkle," he chuckles, leaning against the wall casually. "Hey, today's your birthday, ain't it?"

"It is, yes," you said happily as he made his way to you, pulling you into a tight embrace.

"Happy birthday, babe." He held you like that for a few moments before pulling back slightly, a sly smirk returning to his face. "I have just the perfect gift for you," he said as he handed you a bag. You looked inside, your face suddenly blushing as you saw what it was.

"Angie!" you said smiling, your cheeks burning.

"Don't mention it, toots! Given how low Smiley's libido is, you might enjoy it!" he smirked, winking at you, earning a laugh out of you.

"It's ya birthday, kid?" you heard Husker ask, a small smile on his lips. "Here ya go then!" he said, handing you a bottle of booze as a gift, which you gladly accepted. "One of the finest you can find in this shithole."

"Aw, thank you, Husk!"

Pentious slithered into the lobby, his eyes roaming the room until they fell on you. A frown of confusion etched across his long face. Everyone was giving you gifts, and yet he had forgotten your special day. How uncharacteristic of him to forget.

He approached you, holding out a bouquet of flowers he probably snatched from one of the vases. A pang of embarrassment tugged at him as he watched the others congratulate you and give you gifts. Pentious cursed himself for letting such a detail slip past his usually sharp memory.

"Happy birthday, miss (Y/n)... I am so sorry but I truly forgot about your special day..."

Your smile softened at his words as you accepted the flowers. "They're beautiful, Pentious. Thank you!" you said, softly placing a hand on his shoulder.

Pentious's frown lessened ever so slightly at your kind words, a small sense of relief washing over him. You didn't seem angry or upset that he had forgotten your special day. He coiled slightly, seeming to relax as your touch soothed his initial tension. "I'm glad you like them, dear," he replied with a touch of embarrassment. "I know it's no excuse—but I truly didn't mean to forget." Suddenly, a determined look appeared on his face. "I will create the greatest invention for you, miss (Y/n)!" you chuckle at his words.

"Can't wait to see it!" you smile, as your eyes scan the room. "Where are the others?"

"Charlie and Vagina are solving some Heaven-related business. They might be out the whole day." Angel explained, but even as he spoke, your mind wandered to someone else—someone you were hoping would be here.

"And... Alastor?"

They exchanged looks, but Angel decided to speak. "We don't really know, toots..." he said, feeling a bit sad for you. "But hey, let's not let smiley bring ya down now!" he said wrapping an arm around you.

You looked at them as you realised they were right. It was your birthday and you really had some great people to spend it with, so there was no need to feel sad.

"Angel, call Cherri! We're gonna have some fun!" you announced, as everyone in the room lit up.

Angel, feeling your excitement, grins widely. "That's the spirit! We're gonna hit the club and get fuckin' wasted! Let's get this thing started!" He looks down at you, analyzing you for a moment. "But first, let's find you something that shows more of your tits, babe."

He took your hand, making his way towards your room as everyone began to prepare. Excitement filled you up with every step, the worries that flooded your mind just mere moments ago slowly disappearing.

This was supposed to be your day, after all.

You made your way to your room, stumbling a bit as you still laughed at a joke someone at the club said three hours ago. You were careful with how much you drank, feeling a bit responsible for everyone else, but you couldn't help but feel a bit tipsy too.

Your hand fell on the doorknob and as you opened, jazz music echoed in your ears as your eyes opened wide, your gaze meeting Alastor's. He stood in his armchair, a glass of whiskey in his hand. Normally, the sight of him like this, his coat thrown gracefully on a chair and his appearance slightly dishevelled would've made your mouth water. But today, you couldn't help but feel a bit mad at him.

He got up, slowly making his way to you as you closed the door behind. His expression became somewhat more clear in the dim light. You expected him to be angry, given how late it was. But... he felt somewhat relieved.

Your breath got stuck in your throat as his hand clawed at the thin straps of your dress, tugging it slightly. You knew he wasn't really a fan of you going out like this, but his face remained the same.

"I see you had some fun, my dear," he said, his voice calm and suave, making you relax a bit. His eyes fell on your cleavage, frowning a little at how much it showed. He let out a hum as his eyes fell on the bruises on our neck, his claw dragging across them gently, sending a shiver down your spine.

"I went out with the others," you said, not giving any more details, but given the smell of alcohol and smoke that came from you, it wasn't hard to guess.

He sighed, his eyes finally meeting yours, his claw gently caressing your neck, your heart skipping a beat at the gesture. "I can see that, my love..."

"How was your day?" you replied, a hint of annoyance in your voice. He chuckled, knowing exactly where you're going with it. You expected him to be mad, to act like he was the victim because he had to wait for you to return.

But what you didn't expect was his arms wrapping around you, gently pulling you to his chest. "I don't want you to believe I forgot, my dearest..." he whispered, his hand running through your hair ever so carefully as if you were a porcelain doll, ready to break at the slightest pressure. He pulled away a bit, looking down at you. "Our lovely princess decided today was the best day to give me a ton of chores to do..." he said and you could feel the frustration in his voice.

His grip on you tightened a bit, his smile becoming strained. "She said we'll make it up to you tomorrow, but you have no idea how much it annoys me that I had to spend this day away from you, my love...."

His face softened again as he crouched a bit, resting his forehead against yours. The touch of his hands sent shivers down your spine, his breath hot on your skin as he whispered. The room felt warm and intimate with him so close to you, and you found yourself unable to stay mad at him. His words washed over you, melting away your annoyance and replacing it with a sense of understanding.

"You should've told me..." you said softly, your voice laced with affection. But you couldn't help the warmth spreading in your chest. He was here now, and that's what mattered. You reached up to gently touch his face, bringing a small smile to his lips. He took the opportunity to place a kiss on your hand, his eyes still locked on yours.

"I thought I could make it back in time, but some demons I had to deal with did not... cooperate." he sighed, giving your hand a little squeeze. "But I still got something for you."

You watched as he made his way to the closet and your face lit up as he pulled out a beautiful black dress.

"Alastor, I-" you tried to say, but you were completely taken aback by the gesture.

"You like it? I came up with a design and Rosie helped me make it," he said, a hint of pride on his face, as he looked back at you. "Of course, it is not as... revealing as the one surely our effeminate fellow chose..."

"No, I-... I love it," you said and with a snap of his fingers, the dress replaced the one you were wearing, gracefully falling onto your body. The dress hugged your curves perfectly, and you couldn't help but admire how stunning you looked. Alastor’s eyes lingered on you, his smile widening in clear satisfaction with his choice.

"You look beautiful, my dear," he said, his voice dripping with affection. He walked closer to you again, his hands running over the fabric of the dress, feeling the silky material under his touch.

You smiled up at him, wrapping your hands around his neck. "Thank you, Alastor..."

His hands fell on your waist, his grip firm yet gentle as he pulled you closer to him. His smile widened at the feeling of your body against his, his touch soft and intimate as he rested his forehead against yours once more.

"Anything for you, my love," he whispered, his voice low and tender. He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, taking in your scent, his lips leaving a trail of gentle kisses along your skin.

You stood like this for what felt like hours, slowly moving as jazz music delighted your ears. It wasn't usual for Alastor to forget important things. Important dates, appointments, details... They all had their special place in his head.

And you sure were someone very special to him.

Tags: @ratsematary @littlebluefishtail @n0tmentallystable

[bunnis-monsters]

Hello!

I really love your writing and the way that you portray the reader 💕✨

I just wanted to drop this doggy bag of ideas at your door and you can do with them what you will!!

Warnings: MDNI, fem!reader, slight colorful language, most of it is suggestive, the last one is more explicit

\(^•^)/

My favorite/comfort vibe: the character genuinely loves the reader and doesn’t make “I hate being married” jokes, the Gomez Addams type of guy. Always supportive and never disrespectful. More loyal than a dog. Literally being rude or hurtful is not even in their operating system. Pure embodiment of gentle chivalry. Maximum dose of respect human beings and living creatures juice every morning. I literally can not get enough of this trope

It’s the old west and that rancher with a spotted tail and a large set of horns sticking out of his head is looking mighty fine as he wipes his freckled chest and neck with his patterned bandanna. You, a sweet young lady who is just passing through the town, offers him some water to drink. He accepts it with gratitude and chugs it down. You try not to stare at the lump moving in his throat, or the stray drop of water that you feel jealous of, it getting the chance to caress his skin instead of you. You try to play coy, but he takes his deep breaths into his large muscular barreled chest, he smells your sweetness and can look down and notice your legs shuffling closely together, your cheeks looking a little more flushed. He wonders if your other cheeks could flush the same way. His patterned ears flick and he tries not to get too excited as his tail swishes back and forth. He gives you back your canteen and offers you a ride to your temporary lodgings. Maybe he can convince to stay indefinitely, maybe he can convince you to do it by his side. <3

The og type vampire! Dracula but a himbo/science genius that studies you to learn about humans. He made a special trip to the village to buy more candelabras for you to move around and 3 more long flowy dramatic gowns that accentuate your curves and allow the moonlight to caress your soft skin just as he wishes to caress you. He leaves your favorite snack lying fresh for you in odd places, he seems to think this is all you need to live in way of nutrition, I mean, he only consumes one thing right? He assumes it’s the same for his little human. Cue hijinks of her escaping to the village to eat and teach the vampire how to take care of humans, and her learning about his vampire ways and his fancy new witchcraft (which is just sciencey things). He loves garlic but is severely allergic to it. Literally has been looking for a formula to cure it for like so long, it’s basically the only reason he got interested in science. He mumbles about cheesy garlic bread when he is in one of his rare sleeps.

The protective punk/gang leader pixie! with nasty ass styled jet black hair (and a hauntingly beautiful shimmer to it) protectively grabbing his girl by the waist, pulling you close as an “accidental” foul baseball narrowly misses your face. He glared back at the team who had just realized that they chose the wrong person to pick on, their smirks sliding off their faces. He does enjoy a good game! He likes to use his baseball bat (decorated with dragonflys that you made to match his wings) for more…unsavory things. He’ll be stopping by the afterschool meet to teach them how one could really use a bat, with them as the kind, totally willing volunteers :) He comes home to you with strange stains on his white tank top, you try not to stare too long at his slender and molded waist, perfectly framed by his high waisted fitted denim jeans. He catches you looking though, and gives you a “c’mere baby doll and gimmie some sugar” an annoyingly smug smirk plastered across his horribly perfect face. You were already glued to him, cursing yourself for loving such an insufferably wonderful and rough and tough fool.

The succubus! Butler who literally never stops thinking about you. Who is with you from sun up to sun down to serve you and care for you in any capacity that your little heart desires. Literal doormat, might actually fantasize being a door mat for you tbh? Loves seeing you in elegant and lavish shoe wear, he hates dirt for existing and never wants your feet to touch an unclean floor. Would literally pass out if someone inconvenienced you. You just roll your eyes and smile. You pat the space between his horns, pulling him close to your chest and resting your head atop his, gently reminding him again that you live in a reasonably priced apartment in a reasonably priced area and you never asked for a butler or to be treated like royalty and that he can relax and just enjoy your company. (He literally just showed up one night and decided he wanted to be your butler). He won’t hear of it though, you are a goddess that must be attended to! Don’t take this from him, it makes him so happy to be of service! You begrudgingly allow him to spoil you once more. This time though, you manage to trick him (you didn’t, all you did was ask) into the bathtub with you where you press your bare chest flush against his back and softly scrub his chest with a softly scented product. You insist that this is his reward for being such a dutiful and kind partner, and he’s glad that the bubbles hide the situation happening between his legs. You’re just as happy to help him with that too, reaching around front and reminding him again how beautiful he is and how lucky you are to have him in his life and he literally went feral, water and bubbles coating the tiles as you two tangle around in the water. The next morning he bring you breakfast to eat on the balcony, he happily watches you eat your meal, happy to see you eating and getting full just as he did to you last night ;)

The Undead!Soldier that never wanted to be sent off to the war in the first place and constantly looks at the photo in the heart locket you gave him and wishing to come home safe to your arms. Wishing to free himself from endlessly reviving in different places where he becomes a part of an undead army, only to be defeated and re animated again, praying to one day respawn somewhere close to you, where you can be his light and save him from this dark and endless maze. When you finally manage to free him, you took him to the local necromancer to get put back together, you guys couldn’t find his ring finger so the necromancer threw one in for free. It had a cryptic and eerily familiar tattoo on it resembling a small yellow creature with blue overalls. A shiver went down your spine and you cringed, the two of you went to another necromancer the next day to get it replaced immediately.

The town crook, swiper no swiping type bitch. He has a large fluffy gray and black ringed tail and a cute matching set of ears. His jaw is sharp and his fingers are dexterous, he can never seem to keep them to himself. It’s hard to get something of yours back once he’s managed to sneak it away from you and into his stash. You’ve certainly been spending a lot of money and time buying new undergarments. One night, you catch him rummaging through your panty drawer. He stops like a deer in the headlights. No, not because you caught him, took you long enough anyways. No, it’s that nice little lingerie nightie that you’ve got on. Now just who did you wear that for? He’s no stranger to your clothing habits (him? A peeping Tom? Nooooo~) You surely must have worn it for him!! You’d never admit it but you did wear it in hopes of stalling him long enough to get a good look at your secret admirer. He blushes profusely as you stalk closer to him, studying the planes and details of his handsome face up close. His fingers twitch uncontrollably by his sides as he desperately fights to keep them off you without your say so. He can smell your sweet scent up this close and- what are you doing to him?! He’s about to make a mess in his pants and you haven’t even touched him yet! Your arms playfully clasped behind your back as you lean back and walk over to the bed, stopping before it. You slowly tease the panties down your plush thighs and flick it in his direction without looking, sliding your soft legs underneath the covers. “Come back soon lover boy” you wave him goodbye as he hops out of your balcony window into the night, a dainty pair of panties worn across his face. The next morning, you awoke to a collection of expensive jewelry and colorful stones mixed with various and obscure snacks, a ringed tail peeking out from atop your window/

the out of luck wolf!mutt street fighter with nothing to lose finding the girl of his dreams when he meets eyes with a widowed Governess. She never actually met her late husband but at the wedding, he promptly left to serve in a far off war and never returned. The Governess publicly shamed and pitied all the same in the eyes of the people. He didn’t care about any of that, he didn’t care about her status or that she was once married or that she probably wouldn’t even recognize who he was if she saw him again. He hasn’t seen her since he was just a scrawny runt, beaten and bruised just as he is today, but with the difference of being able to defend himself now. He remembers your sweet chubby cheeks and plush arms that always felt so safe to be in. You two were just children, him a dirty street urchin, and you, a daughter set to inherit a duchy upon marriage. You to had lost touch as you got busier with your studies and began to grow up. He had honestly let you fade from his mind as well over time. But he’ll never forget when he saw you again. Now fully grown with eyes so striking that you reminded him what life was supposed to feel like with a single spark. His barren and brush covered heart caught fire and the only thing that could quench it was getting a taste of you. He manages to find ways to insert himself into your life and get to know you again. You like to read? He never learned how but he’d be happy to try if you did it with him! Otherwise doesn’t see the point. Wants to impress you with his fighting skills and never understands why you get upset for his safety and getting roughed up. He came back alive right? What’s a few more scratches? (He also loves it when you play nurse on him, he loves being doted on). Nobody understands why the widowed Governess would hang out with a mutt like him, he’s quick to silence the rumors and hate, and you’re growing suspicious of how eagerly he allows you to bandage him. He clicks his teeth when he notices that you’re catching on. He needs to be careful, this is the only time he feel like he can get close to you and get a whiff of your scent. He always feels bad that he’s dirty and smells of the streets. Maybe with time, you can tempt this sweet stray into your safe and open arms, where you can help clean him up, and instead of a street fighter, he’s a dude in a nice suit that he has already managed to fuck up, fighting in the street with the bus boy he tripped into. You’re at the snack table minding your business and letting him get his energy out, getting ready for when you two have to release some different energy in the comfort of your shared home later that night.

The highelf!pervert!artist in his mansion with an garden containing an insurmountable amount of foliage and beautiful landscaping, eyeing his sweet plump little maid from afar, savoring the sight as he paints your soft figure onto the canvas. He hisses as his hand softly brushes up and down his member, the skin with a shimmery undertone and a flushed mushroom tip, long and monstrous. He stops and lets his poor leaking cock go again, it swings down and the weight of it almost seems to stall it from popping back up against his softly defined abdomen, some precum staining it sheen. He furiously paints you, his enhanced eyesight allowing for him to see across the courtyard, his studio conveniently being directly across the way from your room, when you lay on your back, your hand between your plush thighs, his sensitive ears picking up on your soft gasps and moans that occasionally sound like his name. It has to be his name right? Surely you must be doing this to him on purpose!! He finishes the last paint stroke that he needs to complete his first coat, he quickly moves his pillow to the window with a bench built in underneath it. He wastes no time bucking his hips in to its softness, imagining that it was you, he sees you struggle to get your release and he just can’t take it anymore. You’ve known each other for years, you were his favorite maid and the only one that he ever paid attention to. You sure took your sweet time getting comfortable with him, he’s positive that in the past few months, you’ve been deliberately teasing him and trying to get his attention. Surely that’s why you must be driving him insane like this?? Unbeknownst to him, you were just that fucking clueless, but don’t worry, he’s about to come and show you exactly how he’s feeling towards you! When he gets his hands on you, it’s game over for being apart from him. He’s always going to want his pretty little muse to be within his line of sight! How else is he going to paint that lovely portrait of you if you keep closing your legs? Here, he knows a few ways to help you relax!~

Sorry for the long ass ask, I just wanted to share some ideas with you since I’m too lazy to ever do anything with them. I hope you’re doing well and getting all the rest and hydration you need!

For now imma share these ideas with y’all and ask which one y’all like best!!

Comment below what you’d like to see me expand on :3

[hopelessromantic5]

Merlin loses his memory.

Well, most of it.

“Merlin, what day of the week is it?”

The dazed look came back over Merlin’s face.

“Haven’t the foggiest.”

Arthur’s stomach plummeted into the Earth.

“Do you remember my name?” The mighty King of Camelot was nowhere to be found when these words were whispered in the depths of the Darkling Wood.

At some point, without his permission, Arthur had grabbed Merlin by the biceps, holding him there, as if he would run away.

The other man scanned Arthur’s face, starting with his jaw, his lips, moving up over the slope of his nose. He reaches the top, a mop of golden blonde hair, but then drops his eyes back down again. Freezing there. Their gazes locked.

Merlin‘s face shifts to an odd expression. One Arthur doesn’t think he’s ever seen, at least not without all the Merlin barriers over top.

This was something pure, yet Arthur still did not have a name for it. This disconcerted him even farther because Arthur knew every look on that beautiful face. A frustrated scowl before it’s fully formed, a quick retort on the tip of his tongue that must be held back due to present company (to which Arthur usually throws him a self-satisfied smirk and a quirked eyebrow, as if daring Merlin to say it anyway).

“No, I don’t know your name.” Merlin whispered softly, warm breaths carrying on the wind in the short space between them, and caressing Arthur’s face like a summer breeze.

The King could hear his own heart cracking, echoing through his rib cage. The first crack of a lake after an unforgiving winter.

Merlin did not allow it to take hold entirely, though.

“But I remember your eyes.” Came the second half of Merlin’s reply.

Arthur Pendragon almost collapsed out of pure affection right then and there.

Merlin would surely be his downfall.

[kerosene-in-a-blender]

I've been thinking about it since it came up last week on 4 Sided Dive, but one thing about Campaign 3 having an overarching plot from the beginning involving gods, eldritch forces, moon aliens, and one ancient bitch-ass wizard is that it's very difficult to quantify what Bells Hells has actually accomplished as a group. Like Sam, Marisha, Travis, and Laura all struggled when that question came out of the tower, and it genuinely hard to say what they've done when everything has felt like an uphill battle against insurmountable odds from the start. For context, by Level 14 where the Hells are now, Vox Machina had freed Whitestone from the Briarwoods and defeated Umbrasyl, and the Mighty Nein had given Veth her original body back and negotiated the end of the War of Ash and Light. Bells Hells have, in contrast, completed a lot of fetch quests to gain power and gathered some valuable intel, but they haven't had the same level of accomplishment as the other parties because everything they've done has been in service of a single goal that has yet to be achieved. Which is simply the nature of Campaign 3 being the Moon Plot Campaign, but it does result in Bells Hells and their story having a very different vibe than entire other party and as demonstrated last week, makes it very difficult to say what they've done, just what they have yet to do.

[yandereunsolved]

Yandere Castiel pining over Jimmy Novak's best friend (S4)—why do you care for his vessel and not him?

Yandere Castiel became aware of your presence the day he became aware that Jimmy Novak was the person who would be his vessel. He didn't think much of you, simply another human amongst all the others. However, all humans are his father's creations. You seemed like what could be called a good friend—loyal. That is something he could relate to. A loyalty that in the beginning he respected wholeheartedly.

A positive beginning that aged like hard cider into a celestial being's desire of possession and obsess.

Yandere Castiel first met you face to face after possessing Jimmy's body. You had heard about his vessel's troubles and had come rushing over. It's an experience he will never forget.

You parked your vehicle in the driveway and ran out of your car in a panic. He could feel your heightened anxiety and panic, and he almost felt something. It was so peculiar. It made his eyebrows furrow and his nose scrunch up.

He was planning on simply leaving, but you stood in front of him and pestered him with questions. When Jimmy's daughter came out, you told her, 'Me and your daddy are just going for a walk. He isn't feeling well, so we are going to get some fresh air.' Which Castiel thought was ludicrous. He tried to rebuff by telling you 'He is an angel of the Lord and that Jimmy Novak is his vessel—to which you promptly clamped your hand over his mouth and scolded him. 

He isn't entirely sure why he got in your human vehicle. He could have simply whisked himself and continued on the mission heaven gave him. He was supposed to. Still, with this unfamiliar reaction to you, he couldn't help but rationalize it as you being important to the celestial plane somehow. 

So that's how he ended up in a human hospital with you filling out papers that pertain to Jimmy.

Yandere Castiel found no need to pretend, so that's how he ended up dragging you into angelic affairs. Or perhaps it was the other way around. You were quite insistent on staying near him after he explained the situation to the extent he was allowed. There wasn't even a hesitance on your part. You were simply protective over his vessel, despite the fact he is the multidimensional being inside the vessel.

That's when that odd sensitivity popped up once again.

It was almost like you were just as concerned for him as you were for Jimmy. It was quite a useless emotion for you to have, but he was still... flattered? by it.

Yandere Castiel reluctantly separated himself from you to an extent. You had attracted attention from both heaven and hell, so he had to. He had to. Right?

Heaven wasn't pleased with him getting distracted. They essentially wanted to allow you to wander back into the world with no angelic protection. It's like leading a lamb to the slaughter. Now Castiel is no stranger to that. He's watched his brothers and sisters slaughter humans for much less egregious acts. Though this time it felt wrong.

He ended up warding you from all angels, including himself, with your consent, of course. He left a specific engraving on your ribs that roughly translates to 'mine. touch this human and I will smite you where you stand.'

Yandere Castiel felt as if his grace had been ripped from him when he was away from you. Could God have created you specially for him? It was an impossible thought. One no angel should have for a human. That's how mighty beings fall. It is heaven's number one rule not to love anything, not even the humanity their God created.

He pushed himself into the mission he was given and tried to ignore the sizzling sensation all over his celestial body. It's a spiritual reaction to being left without your presence for an extended period of time.

He worked with Uriel, then had to kill his brother. He had to kill many more for you to protect you. He met the Winchesters and learned about them; grew attached. Anna tempted him into developing the capacity for human emotion. He was so lost. You were; you are the only thing that makes him feel found—safe.

He took that safety from himself in order to protect you.

Foolishly, he seeked you and, in return, your presence.

That's when heaven knew they had to reprimand him.

Yandere Castiel experienced things up there that would physically not only break a lesser being's psyche but erase it. If anything, it only made that sizzling sensation evolve into a scorching one. It was as if his feathers were being stripped off one by one. An unforgiving hand that forces him towards you. The heart he doesn't have broke and learned to yearn.

Like an obedient soldier, he listened to their words. He swore his loyalty once again, and he was allowed back onto Earth. He didn't go to Jimmy first, no. He scoured the earth and thought you were gone for good until you called for him. That was a rash human decision. You were only hidden unless you made yourself known.

Yandere Castiel had to come and see you. He had to explain himself and rid this fiery ache from his celestial body. Only when he came to your call, your first question was about Jimmy, not him. You looked past him. You ignored the agony that was everywhere on him.

Why? That feeling didn't ease at your lack of care for the angel in front of you.

Your demands to know where Jimmy was and if his family was safe fell deafly on him. He had to put you in your place. Yes, it was out of anger and hurt, but also a certain amount of righteousness he felt he had to regain. You belong to him, even if you don't like it.

"I learned my lesson while I was away. I serve Heaven, I don’t serve man. And I-I certainly don’t s-serve... you."

He's just an obedient little soldier who has been broken by you.

[utilitycaster]

this is another "inspired broadly thoughts about veilguard, a game I haven't played" post (it is currently downloading!) but this time it's about, to be honest, epic/heroic fantasy in general, and Campaign 3 and especially Vox Machina.

I think having Vox Machina's mission kick off first chronologically (in a fun way - last to be introduced, but first to go) fits because while the Nein's story is about the change enacted by a small, determined group of people who rely utterly on each other, Vox Machina has always had powerful allies from their introduction to the audience, though not, to be fair, their inception in the home game.

Vox Machina's story in campaign 1 ends with Vasselheim behind them - they are the strike force, but they can call upon bastions defending the city. Devossa and members of the Slayer's Take join them in the final battle. Gilmore, Allura, and Kima have their backs. The same is true in their battle against Thordak, in which they're joined by Tal'Dorei's army, the Ashari, and again, Devossa, Zahra, and Kash. Whereas the Mighty Nein's most public and political victories are ones of mediation and crisis aversion taking place largely off the battlefield (the beacon, the reveal of the Angel of Irons cult, the treaty negotiations, and taking down Trent and the Volstrucker), Vox Machina's public victories concern threats to the realm that bring disparate groups together. (These themes continue quite nicely in the parties' post retirements, Vox Machina being comprised of key figures in Whitestone, the Tal'Dorei Council, Vasselheim, and of course the Ashari and the Mighty Nein's main institutional tie being to the Cobalt Soul.)

I'm very openly a Nein Girlie, but Vox Machina is also quite dear to my heart and I have a particular love for that aspect: for Vox Machina serving as the tip of a worldwide spear against existential threats. The world unites behind them, repeatedly, and they take that role seriously, dick jokes notwithstanding, and do not let their allies down. Indeed, I think the Briarwoods arc is a great example of them not letting their allies down even when they are let down by their allies. Vox Machina is often described as the most archetypal fantasy campaign, and I think that's valid, and there is something very satisfying and lovely about a Tolkien story in which the world comes together against great evil. I think those endings are often harder than endings like those the Mighty Nein had - a story of a small group succeeding against the odds tends to fit narrative patterns of, well, succeeding against the odds, whereas everyone banding together often comes with both victory and terrible sacrifice - but they are vitally important.

I've really loved the Exandrian Accord and the Grim Verity as factions within Campaign 3 - I'd honestly watch 5 more accord sessions and I'm not joking - and after seeing Vox Machina this episode, I hope that Bells Hells are able to honor their agreements the way Vox Machina has and continues to do so.

[maxwell-grant]

The Penguin Episode 4: Cent'anni Breakdown

She goes through all these different levels of all these different personas: excellent daughter, overachiever, and this horrific feral state in Arkham. And it's not until the yellow dress that she finds the one that fits.

Kind of like sharks can't stop moving or they sink. It's that relentless pursuit of justice.

This changes her forever. She never comes back. Something so much bigger than her takes over in order to survive - Cristin Milioti

This was pointed out to me by my friend and, show of hands everyone, who else thinks it's unbelievably fucking sick that it is Sofia who gets to show up at the Falcone dinner table, wearing a thematically appropriate embodiment of her childhood trauma, and do a "None of you are safe" speech?

(Episode 1) (Episode 2) (Episode 3) (Episode 5) (Episode 6) (Episode 7) (Episode 8)

It probably felt odd to spend time with Sofia when we’re in a show called The Penguin. But I think it’s just as important so you can understand Oz psychologically. Even though I don’t view Oz as a hero or a villain, he is a greater villain in the show than anyone else. And for you to feel that way, I think you have to understand his primary antagonist more. And that’s Sofia.” - Lauren LeFranc

I gotta say I'm generally not enthusiastic about Penguin being depicted as overtly disgusting, like drooling and eating raw fish and all that Burton stuff (actually I do think the black bile is cool, but only so far as as that version goes), but for that opening scene, that was a spectacularly well-placed bit of grossness. Like this sheer craven animalistic ugliness of DeVito's Penguin descending for a second to show us how Sofia sees Oz, and even how right she is to do so at the moment because holy shit hahahahahaha

From what we can see of Sofia's pre-Arkham life, she was basically the Meadow Soprano of the family: The smart, overachieving golden child, whose social standing and eligitibility for leadership wouldn't even be up for debate if she was born a man like her loser brother (love AJ, relate uncomfortably to AJ, he's not at all morally comparable to Alberto, but he is very much a loser). Socially conscious and sticking up for victims but only if you don't poke too closely at her victim-generating family business, aware of some things but willfully blind to her own hypocrisy and insistent that daddy is still in average a good man who isn't as bad as people around her may say he is. I'd even say that the Sofia we see here is a more moral person than Meadow, although obviously being the daughter of Carmine Falcone is a much scarier, more isolating and horrific prospect than growing up the daughter of Tony Soprano (the ways in which the two Sopranos kids diverged and majorly prefigured American socio-political developments that kicked off after the show is a topic for another post).

(Also, I don't really want to bring up Sopranos comparisons because the shows are similar, they're really not, but I finished The Sopranos yesterday so they're gonna come up still)

I think Mark Strong does a really good job here filling in for John Turturro's role, even if he's not quite as good in it as Turturro. I think he plays the character differently in a way that works really well for this being a past version of Carmine, filtered through Sofia's vision. He is imposing and quiet and mighty, a lone titan of unquestionable power over the entire world, not even remotely someone to be defied or displeased. Turturro's Falcone was charismatic and affable and oozing with unspeakable yet casual cruelty, and I would have liked that here, but I like the idea that we're seeing a Carmine from before he was invincible, when he still needed Sofia to help him get Congressman Hill on the phone and still worried about the future of the family at Alberto's hands, a Carmine from when the Maronis were still around and he wasn't the sole ruling power in Gotham, who could still possibly lose even without vigilante intervention.

He is larger, more imposing, a stern and stoic father who had little use for pleasantries, and with no mirth to be had at the expense of the little people who think they can do anything against him that matters, even if he is getting there. I think the difference here adds a nice little arc to Carmine: there was a time where he needed to keep up appearences, there was a time where he raised his voice above a whisper to get things done, and there was a time where he wasn't the real mayor of Gotham. There was a time where he was a "proper" Don, when he acted like his comics counterpart, and none of that really became necessary over the following decade, when he grew more and more invincible and isolated and comfortable in this nightmare he made the city into.

They also confirm here that apparently the Iceberg Lounge/44 Below existed way back when Oz was just Sofia's driver, and it was already Carmine's prostitute slaughterhouse even then and Alberto knew about it. Possibly explains why Oz was handed the club in the first place, because the Falcones already called him Sofia's penguin and putting The Penguin in charge of the Iceberg Lounge would fit their idea of a laugh (and given how much Oz hates being called Penguin, he would hardly come up with the name himself)

Lmao, those dog comparisons I keep making really don't stop justifying themselves.

Credit again to Mike Marino and the prosthetics team for this younger Oz make-up, he strikes a very nice middleground between current Oz and the one we see as a kid.

Really like what we see of Sofia and Oz's dynamic here, again reinforcing that for all intents and purposes he was the sidekick in her HBO protagonist life. We see how Sofia likes his company and how she even kinda defends him from the family, but she really cannot bring herself to respect him very much and disdains him from the same very upper-class perspective the rest of the family does, she's just nicer about it. And in turn we see parts of where Oz's resentment to her comes from, and also the extent to which Oz was always lying in wait for an opportunity to get ahead regardless of her, his justified grievances as well as him being a conniving fuck. The really thin line this treads though, is that it establishes that neither of them were lying about how they meant something to each other, even if it doesn't help.

Sofia did have her life ruined partially because of Oz, she did endure horrific things while he got a promotion because he ratted her out to Carmine, and he very much did in part because he wanted to get ahead and saw an opportunity to do so. But also, Oz genuinely had no idea that this is what Carmine would do, and I think in large part this was also about keeping himself safe. It's not even that unbelievable that he was genuinely looking out for her, because holy shit you do not talk to the press about Carmine Falcone, daughter or not, and he tried warning her in the car before she rebuffed him and insulted him pretty deep for good measure. If Sofia talked to the press and would not stop talking (since he didn't know in the car that she rebuffed Gleeson) and shit started happening because of her snooping around, he would have absolutely gotten punished/murdered for it, it is not at all a stretch to assume that Carmine would have done something to Oz as punishment to Sofia.

Oz didn't plan any kind of misfortune, at no point did he mastermind her admission into Arkham (or even help keep her there with the letters, like the rest of the family), he just told Carmine something he shouldn't have, and neither of them expected anything too terrible was gonna come out of it. They both wildly underestimated what a complete scumbag Carmine is, but with Carmine (and the others) gone, there's nobody else to turn those grievances to.

Even if Oz could claim deniability for the Arkham thing, which he kinda can't but Sofia even tried to grant him anyway, he sure as shit can't for everything else he does in the opening minutes.

Oh hey it's Mr Mustache With The Broken Nose.

A thing that came to mind when I was watching the episode was the story of Rosemary Kennedy, JFK's sister whose father arranged for her to be institutionalized and lobotomized at age 23 as a reponse to "difficult" behavior. I'm not recounting it in more detail here because the rest of it is just too horrific, look it up yourself if you're curious. I remembered it because reading about Rosemary Kennedy ruined my fucking day and it still pumps up the breaks in my train of thought every now and then, so it came to mind watching this story about a young woman horrifically institutionalized and butchered for the sake of her wealthy family's image. Later I heard the podcast, and turns out that actually was exactly what Lauren LeFranc based Sofia's story on, which was nice. I'm glad it also fucks Lauren LeFranc up and that we both agree she should have gotten to wreak revenge on the entire family over it, thank you Penguin Show that continues to be made for me, this was nice.

Oh hey, Magpie. Just the name, yeah, but that was another nice surprise. I used to have a bit of a soft spot for Magpie, occasionally I thought there was something to get out of her and Penguin together, so a part of me likes that they put Magpie in The Penguin show even if just in name. Yes, she only exists to be annoying and die, but that's what she already tends to do anyway. And y'know, much as I may like her, she is still a John Byrne character, so she doesn't really deserve much more than that

Jesus Christ this episode gets uncomfortable.

I like that this establishes that Julian Rush kinda did make an effort to help her and kinda felt bad about it, but not nearly enough, and that he is very much a complicit contemptible creep who has it coming as much as any of the people who put Sofia in there.

Cannot state enough how much I appreciate that they didn't put any actual named Batman villains in the Arkham Asylum episode, guarantee a lot of creators would not resist the temptation. I mean okay I guess there is a Ventris already in Batman but, come on, you know who I mean. This did not need any references to like, Jeremiah Arkham or Jonathan Crane or Hugo Strange or any of that, and that's not a diss on any of those guys, it's just that unlike pretty much every other Batman story, this episode does not undercut it's point about the horrific institutional horrors dehumanizing and destroying Sofia by pinning it on a chief boogeyman supervillain that Batman is going to fight later. Dr. Ventris is not responsible for the systemic rot that got her there nor is he the sole orchestrator/perpetrator of the abuse it's inmates suffer, he simply answers to those, and thus perpetuates them, by doing his job in a mental institution.

I am still haunted by the inmate committing suicide with a fork. It is so fucked up that Sofia was tortured and goaded by the doctors into murdering another inmate, and when that failed, they tortured her again and again and again until she snapped. The whole point was to push Sofia beyond the breaking point to justify further incarceration. The doctors just standing there letting her kill Magpie.

I want Dr.Rush to die.

I have more thoughts on Arkham, but I'd call this the most horrific take on Arkham so far, because it is the most honest take on Arkham so far. Even at it's most run-down and monstrous, it is usually never at all into question that Arkham Asylum is necessary, because if it wasn't there, all the crazies would run rampant in Gotham. Over the years, it's monstrousness has always been tied directly and specifically to it's inmates, and whenever people have pointed out the shoddy conditions and inhospitable environment of Arkham as a factor for repeat offenders, it's pretty much always as a fandom joke outside of Batman stories proper, and if there is anything wrong with the way the Asylum works, it is always the fault of particularly evil villains attached. A Lock-Up, a Jeremiah Arkham, a Hugo Strange, etc. Arkham Asylum is in general a Batman concept that's raised a lot of discussions and calls for revision over the years, and a lot of the issues with it tie into larger issues around superhero depictions of the carceral system, that @artbyblastweave went into here.

Here, in large part because this is a realistic world and a Gotham without a rampaging supervillain contingent of repeat offenders who can magically break out constantly, it is never into question that the patients are the victims of this system, and if they are being turned into potential supervillains, it is because of Arkham inflicting this on them. This is an Arkham Asylum that remains a nightmarish, horrific force in this world, but not because it's Castle Dracula where all the crazy villains hang out, not even just because the rest of Gotham is hopelessly rotten and corrupt, but because it's a mental institution and depicted accordingly. It gets to dig into the real life horrors mental institutions inflict on it's patients without having to justify those measures as benign or necessary to keep crazy crimes from happening. Frankly, this take on Arkham Asylum has been long overdue.

In every form of Batman media, just about the worst thing that can happen at any given moment is Arkham Asylum falling and it's inmates escaping into the streets, that's generally what happens when Batman needs to deal with apocalyptic stakes (which is why of course it happens all the fucking time now). Here, that scenario would be regarded with cheer, because the worst thing that can happen in this universe is being sent to Arkham Asylum. It isn't just Batman's unofficial personal prison / punching gallery, if anything it massively raises the stakes on this Batman's next adventures, because now we know this is what's waiting for him if he gets caught and unmasked.

I like that Sofia and Oz are both trying to save/protect those they see as younger versions of themselves, while inflicting on them the kinds of tragedies that ultimately created them

Oz reached out to this poor disabled kid from the streets and is showing him the ropes, while also belittling him as a nobody and distorting his worldview and dragging him into life or death cornered scrapdog situations chipping away at his morals. Sofia saves her little niece who laughs at bad table manners and doesn't quite do what her family says, gently lulling her to sleep so she can kill her mom and her entire family.

Extremely important that Sofia Falcone makes her formal arrival as a villain by showing up dressed in a sexy yet fitting extension of her trauma / cultural reference (The Yellow Wallpaper / the walls in her mother's bedroom), before putting on a mask and enacting Gotham's first Mass Casualty Gas Attack, we love to see it.

I was frankly already calling Sofia one of my favorite Bat-villains even before this episode, I'm just glad everyone seems to be on the same page with me now. I'm seeing a lot of posts on Twitter and Instagram talking about how they're rooting for Sofia instead of Oz, that she deserves to win this war, and good, fucking amazing that they're doing this, again, this show is hitting home runs I could not have foreseen.

It is incredible what a character they've made out of Sofia, and the fact that we now see Oz as her antagonist as much as we see Sofia as his, and the fact that if Penguin wins, he will win this as a villain. He will steal a victory he does not deserve and rub it in your face and he will make the children of the world cry for it as any villain worth his name should be doing, and it frankly wouldn't be much of a fight if Sofia wasn't every bit the complicated, engaging protagonist he is. Lauren LeFranc claimed that she sees Sofia is the closest the show has to a hero even if she is not, and this is the episode that sold everyone on it.

Halfway through the show and it's only gotten better and better, can't wait for what's coming next.

[marlynnofmany]

Not Special

The refueling station was on a small moon in the back end of nowhere, close to nothing but a couple of wormhole junctions. Since it had a little convenience store and everything, it really gave off “7/11 next to a desert highway” vibes. Just, y’know, in space. The moon wasn’t big enough for proper gravity or air on its own, so someone had installed a gravity generator under the dusty red ground. And turned it up just a smidge too high, but I wasn’t going to complain.

I was going to buy pre-packaged alien snacks at the store while my coworkers handed the refueling. Mimi was calling the shots, tentacles waving and gravelly voice audible from here, while the Frillian twins handled the heavy lifting of connector hoses and Captain Sunlight was at the payment kiosk. The others were either staying onboard or already browsing the aisles.

I’d just picked up a pack of something colorful (doing an artful fumble-and-recovery because of the gravity) when a rowdy group of Armorlites trooped in. I didn’t pay them too much attention — just a bunch of macho dinosaurs with holstered blasters and bipedal swagger; totally normal here — but one of them said something that brought me up short.

“Hey look, another human,” said the cheerful voice. “Maybe you can get some tips on how not to be such a disappointment.” Raucous laughter followed.

I frowned in their direction and saw that they did have a human with them: a pale and unassuming guy just a bit shorter and stockier than me. He looked annoyed by the comment, but not surprised.

When he walked over to me, I asked, “What’s that about?” The Armorlites were already ignoring him.

The guy sighed. “They heard a lot of stories about humans before they hired me, and I don’t meet their expectations.”

“What kind of stories?”

“Humans doing daring things, like running for hours to get medicine to dying people, catching a diseased rat before it infected an entire space station, throwing fruit at charging fauna hard enough to make it leave…” He ticked things off on his fingers. “Exorcizing a ghost, and riding a hoversled like a skateboard fast enough to catch a bomb before it blew up. How am I supposed to compete with that?” He threw his hands in the air.

“Um,” I said, putting down the snack I was still holding. “Would it make it better or worse to know those were all the same person?”

“What?”

“The rat wasn’t actually diseased, the ghost was a howling dog, and I didn’t know the thing was explosive when I rushed to catch it,” I said. “And I wasn’t the only person throwing things at the fauna.”

“What?” he repeated, with a spread-arms gesture that smacked into the shelf. Rubbing his hand, he asked, “That was all you?”

“Yeah,” I admitted. “Unless there are other humans doing the same things, which is possible.”

He raked fingers through his hair, setting it at odd angles. “I can’t believe this. I’d tell them, but they’d just want to hire you instead.”

I rushed to assure him, “I’ve got a job already, and I don’t want to take yours.” I glanced over at the Armorlites, who were grabbing food and accessories. One clicked a flashlight on in another’s face, prompting curses from him and laughter from the others. That tracked from what I’d seen of Armorlite culture before. Toughness was important. Kindness, not so much. “What do you do for them?”

He sighed again. “Bookkeeping, officially. They needed somebody to handle the boring stuff like money and permits while they focus on hunting the biggest animals they can sell.”

“Gotcha. That sounds … exciting.”

“It’s not. It’s like going on a trip with my cousins again, except they’re even bigger and make fun of me for not having claws.”

“You’ve got other stuff going for you, though!” I said. “We just need to figure which of your differences they’ll respect most.”

“I’m all ears,” he said with a certain level of sarcasm. “Please tell me what about my fragile human physique will get me respect from the Mighty.”

Oh right, they did call themselves that. I’d almost forgotten. At least they were a straightforward species without a lot of mysterious depths.

“Well,” I said, thinking. “They like fighting. You’re more suited to stealth than they are, small enough to hide and do sneak attacks that they wouldn’t see coming. What if you introduced them to rubber band warfare, and sniped from hidden parts of the ship?”

“Nope,” he said. “That would just end with me cornered somewhere, and them showing off how even thin scales are tougher than my skin.”

“Good point. Oh! What kind of animals do they hunt? You said big ones, but do you know the specific names?” I got out my phone and brought up the database of known fauna that I’d talked Captain Sunlight into buying for me. As her own hired animal expert, it was really the kind of thing that I should have. My vet training on Earth only went so far.

“Uhhh, I think the last one was a treehorn,” he said. “Wait, they talked about going for Argoshan Dagger Birds next.”

“Right. Now what kind of noises do those make…” I typed quickly. Big creatures indeed, by the looks of it: Dagger Birds had prevented more than one colony from getting a foothold in the wilds of a nearby world, and were unlikely to stop being a threat anytime soon. I skimmed the rundown for the vocal files. “Here we go. Mating call.” Keeping the sound low enough for just us to hear, I played the croaking warble.

“Okay?” the guy said, confused.

“Can you imitate that?” I asked. “Give it a shot. Kinda like a frog. Woarrrk.”

Looking skeptical, he did. The expression on his face said he wasn’t impressed with his own efforts, but it sounded accurate enough to me.

“Great!” I said. “Give that a bit of practice, then you can go out with your crew and impress everybody by luring in some targets for them.”

“I could,” he said thoughtfully. “I usually stay on the ship while they’re hunting, but it might be worth a try. Can I have a copy of that sound for practice?”

He got out his own phone and I played it again so he could record it. The Armorlites were dumping things onto the front counter, ready to pay and leave. I caught sight of bright packaging that I recognized, and I had another idea.

“Thanks,” the guy said. “This might actually help. What was your name?”

“Robin Bennett,” I said with a belated handshake.

“Oscar Tennyson,” he replied. “Thanks for your help. Looks like I should grab my stuff and get going.”

“Before you go. See those tall cans with the purple labels?” I pointed at something the Armorlites were buying.

“Yeah?”

“Have you ever tried that?”

“No! They get wasted on it; I’ve steered far clear.”

I grinned with all my teeth. “That’s not alcohol. That’s caffeine.”

“What?”

“Humans can process caffeine better than most species on our own planet, and just about everybody in space. It’s a poison to most. It gets them super drunk, but for you—” I pointed at him with glee. “For you, it’s just a bit of energy. Pick your moment, then walk in casually while they’re getting wasted, and slam one down. See what happens.”

He was smiling now. “You’re sure? It’s really just caffeine? How much?”

“I checked into it before. One of those huge cans is like a watered-down coffee. These guys are absolute lightweights, and they don’t even know.”

He grinned to split his face. “That is the best news.”

One of them called for him to hurry up, and he bid me a quick goodbye before scampering off. I saw him grab food cubes, water, and a six-pack of caffeine, which he bundled onto the counter as the Armorlites headed out the door.

“Be right there! Just getting some stuff!”

They didn’t look, simply telling him not to waste any time. He smiled his way through the purchase.

Peeking over the shelves, I smiled too. Then I went back to my own purchases, with thoughts of getting an energy drink or two in his honor.

~~~

These started as backstory tidbits for the main character from this book, and turned into a sprawling adventure series in their own right. The sequel book will feature a return of some familiar faces. And Patreon is coming soon — even the free tier will be a handy way to keep up with the ongoing shenanigans of this particular human in space.