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dreamingofaizawa · 3 years

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Powerful Ch. 1

Yakuza! Shouta Aizawa x Fem! Reader

*Mafia AU* Quirkless as well

Warnings: Arranged (sort of) marriage, brief mention of champagne, mentions of violence (nothing too specific). In later chapters: Probably smut

Word Count: 3.4 k

Author’s Note: ALRIGHTY here we go. I just had a fixation on Mafia AUs and, of course, it’s Shouta. What else did you expect? I’m a sucker for arranged relationships. Also he’s a little ooc in here, more confident, more ‘I want it I got it’. Hey, he’s the most powerful man in Japan, might as well have him act like it right? Anywho, I have no clue how many chapters this’ll end up being. Let’s just say this is ongoing for now.

Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4

Enjoy~

25 years old and you haven’t been married off yet. This was strategic on your father’s part. As a rather low-ranking clan he’d purposely saved you, his eldest daughter, for marrying into a higher ranked clan. You’d bring immense honor to the family name. If only you’d known what you were getting into, maybe you could have been better prepared for your world to flip on its head.

The black velvet gown you wear is tailored perfectly to your form, accentuating every curve and dip on your body. The skirt fanned out around you gracefully and a short train trailed behind you as you stepped through the grand doors of the massive mansion. Tonight is the annual celebratory ball, held to celebrate successful unions and achievements. This one was particularly special, you just didn’t quite know it yet.

Since the event wasn’t mandatory, you were told to go in alone as a representative of your clan, while Mother and Father attended to more important matters. Before you even stepped in you fixed your posture and schooled your expression, keeping your form humbled. Heavens know what could happen should you irk the wrong clan.

Inside you were met with an onslaught of mixed everything, mixed drinks and colors and styles. Some wore traditional Japanese kimono, others more modern versions of the garment and others, like you, wearing more extravagant european or western style clothing. Though a rather interesting mix, nothing quite clashed which you were slightly grateful for, since there was no possible way you could make it through the night without a headache if there was an unpleasant mix of visuals.

You strode through and instantly met several lower clan heads that you respectfully bowed to and engaged in pleasant small talk with, moving from person to person, couple to couple and paying respects to all of them. You kept a small smile, a pleasant facade as you waltzed over the hardwood flooring. It took almost two hours of endless conversation before you managed to catch a break in the madness, snatching a small flute of champagne from a waiter and leaning up against a wall for a breath.

You still hadn’t noticed the pair of dark eyes that studied you from the moment you arrived.

____

You struck him as intriguing at first. From the moment you walked over the threshold his eyes drank you in, studying you, observing and judging just as he had with many other women before you. No one here knows it, but the man is looking for a bride. Someone who could stand by his side,improve and uphold his image, help him wield the power that is the Yakuza. Yes, rank is important, but Shouta is too picky to care about rank. He is looking for a specific type of woman, one that can hold untold depths of power without crumbling under the pressure or getting swept up in the rush of it all.

A woman, he decides, like you.

You held yourself with grace, pride and humility. You seemed to understand your position, your probable low rank, while also not undermining your importance nor worth. A woman like you is hard to come by in this world, most just as power hungry and ruthless and greedy as their husbands, all while putting up a cotton candy sweet mask and using it to disguise their conniving ways.

But in truth, that’s what it took to live this kind of life, isn’t it?

It was clear you knew that, while still managing to feel genuine in everything you did, even with an action as simple as sipping champagne. At the same time he can’t deny you are quite beautiful, soft lips and softer eyes, fingers gently grasping your glass with unmatched elegance and an unwavering strength in your posture. You’d bowed before many this evening, and yet you stood taller than even the highest ranking clan heads without challenging a single one of them. Bamboo in this forest of tall, unyielding trees. Capable of wielding so much power.

For a split second his mind wandered to other things, filthy moments shared in the privacy of his chambers, shared breaths and shimmering sweaty skin. He wondered what you would be like underneath him, if you would be a brat or willingly submit yourself to him. He hopes it to be the latter, but wouldn’t completely deny the chance to tame someone difficult. How would you look pinned under his weight, completely helpless to his hands that have killed and tortured? Would you claw at his shoulders or grip the sheets instead? What would you sound like? Your image plagued his mind even if only for a moment.

He’d studied many women over the few hours since the event started, none of them giving him a good enough first impression for him to continue watching further than a minute. There was no question in his mind now. You’d be returning home with him tonight.

____

You had just finished your drink and set the empty glass on a passing waiter’s tray when suddenly the ballroom fell extremely silent. All heads turned, eyes focused on the man that began his descent from the balcony overlooking the floor. He’s gorgeous, long black hair pulled into a low bun and exposing the light scruff on his chin and impossibly sharp jaw, a deep scar curved under his right eye. The full black satin suit is fitted to his form, strong shoulders and rolling muscle evident even under the thick materials. Ink peeked over the collar, a hint at what was definitely intricate sleeves and detailed artwork. His steps were measured, calculated and purposeful as he made his way down and across the floor, the entire room bowing down at his presence.

You know who he is, as does every person here. Top rung of the ladder, Oyabun of the most powerful clan in Japan, his name widely known through the entire organization and yet almost never spoken. Shouta Aizawa, a name both respected and feared, holding unknown power and strength. His reputation is enough to make anyone feel small in his presence, known for his cold demeanor and the violence he’d committed, many losing their fingers, loved ones, and their own lives for misdeeds against him. He’d done most of that himself, marking him as a very dangerous man to be involved with, and an ally everyone wanted backing them.

You bowed down respectfully just as everyone else did, waiting patiently for a release, whether it was from the man himself or a collective understanding that it was alright to rise once again. The former was the first to come to fruition, though you didn’t expect him to be so close to you as he said it. Your eyes met with sharp onyx as you fixed yourself upright. It made you freeze in place, not quite tense, not quite relaxed, your expression hopefully not showing the utter shock you were feeling.

“What is your name?” You blinked only once before your mind caught up, and you willed your voice steady as you responded. What had you done to piss him off? What punishment awaited you for what you didn’t know you’d done? Despite fearing what may come, you don’t dare speak out of turn, even to beg for your life. His next words were addressed to the entire ballroom, you included, his smooth, deep voice booming out and yet somehow not loud at all.

“Any transgression against this woman is a transgression against me. As my future wife she is untouchable, and will remain that way until I explicitly state otherwise.” A collective hushed gasp sounded through the massive hall, your own eyes growing wide and your heart damn near stopping as your brain dissected the information. He just made you his fiance, with no warning, no hesitation, and full confidence. You are now engaged to the most powerful man in Japan, and you have exactly zero say in the matter. Really though, you never expected to be able to voice any opinions considering the patriarchy of the organization, so that bit of shock was quickly overlooked.

“It’s time to retire, little one.” His hand was held out to you, waiting for your own. You blinked, deciding it was best that you saved your shock for later you focused on the here and now and what to do in this moment. Taking a breath, you schooled your face into a pleasant smile and placed your hand in his waiting palm, allowing him to tuck you into his side as you both walked out the front doors and climbed into a black limouzine.

You didn’t allow yourself to relax, sitting silently next to the man as trees and telephone poles whizzed by the vehicle. It was tense, to say the least, his hand possessively sat on your knee as his eyes remained fixed in front of him and yours did the same. Neither of you talked, you slightly out of fear, of respect, and slightly out of sheer shock, your mind just barely able to keep itself together. He remained silent for a purpose. He would talk when you were alone, or when he felt like talking. Which isn’t right now.

You let your mind whirl a bit, worrying about what this meant for you. Worrying about how this powerful man would treat you, how he acted behind closed doors and if he even cared about you or what you might have to say. It’s nerve-wracking, suddenly bound to a power such as him, not knowing what could happen next, not knowing what to do next. There was nothing that could have prepared you for this.

The car slowed as it pulled up to the gate of the enormous estate, shaking you out of your thoughts, and once it opened the drive to the main house took nearly five minutes on its own. It’s a modern home, several stories tall with the top clearly penthouse-style with a full glass wall that overlooks the landscape, the rest of the huge inner home hidden behind crisp walls.

At a full stop, a man opens the door for you, the Oyabun having already exited and held a hand out for you to grab once again, strong muscles pulling you up with ease and leading you through the building and into an elevator. The silence is stifling as you wait for the machine to come to a stop, the soft chime indicating you’ve landed.

Now you’re completely alone with him.

He leads you in and stops in the center of the large main room, stepping away and turning his scrutinizing gaze onto you. You do your best not to tense in front of him, not to show fear, partially for his comfort though you’re sure he’s used to it. His shoes clack softly, rhythmically on the polished wood floor as he begins to circle you, like a predator eyeing its prey, eyes burning paths up and down your form. You barely keep from squirming under his intense gaze, managing to keep still from sheer willpower. He stops suddenly behind you and you feel his warmth as he leans in close before a hand presses into your mid back and another gently grasps your shoulder, gently making you straighten even more, stand even taller.

Once he’s satisfied with your posture he rounds you and tilts your chin just a tad higher with a hooked finger. He’s silent as he shapes you, adjusting your body to his liking. You let him tenderly push and tug, grab and knead and trail those deadly fingers over you until he stops before you, studying you once again.

“You’re my fiance now. You will hold yourself as such, radiate power as I do and command the attention of a room with only a glance.” The reminder of just what was happening made your breath stutter a little, and his hand came up to grasp your chin, making you look up into his dark eyes.

“You will learn, little one, to be the powerful woman I see.” He was so close, the heat from his body rolling over your skin and his breaths fanning over your face. Then he was walking away, motioning for you to follow as he led you to his chambers and bathroom to get cleaned up. You’d be sleeping with him from now on, he said, handing you a robe to change into after you’ve bathed and guiding you into the bathroom before closing the door and leaving you alone with your thoughts as you set to cleaning yourself.

Given you don’t screw things up, you are going to be the most powerful woman in Japan, solely because of a sudden arranged marriage dropped seemingly from out of nowhere. But the longer you think about it, it isn’t really out of nowhere is it? The Oyabun is 30 now, and until tonight hadn’t named a wife, nor any love interests, and therefore no possible heirs. If the man were to die for any reason, those chances only increasing the older he gets, the power vacuum his absence would create would be absolute madness. You’re part of a strategy, just as before. Just as always.

Yet there was no denying he’d struck something inside you. Of all the women in that hall he approached you, a woman he didn’t know from a low ranked clan, for reasons you could only barely begin to guess. He’d called you powerful earlier, the sincerity in his voice making your mind spin. Did he really see you as powerful? And the name he’d used for you felt far too tender on the tongue of such a dangerous man, though you understood the nod toward your previous rank.

Father and Mother must be either confused, shocked, or overflowing with joy right about now. Confused as to why you haven’t returned, shocked, happy, or both at the news had they learned it. With your mind processing everything, your body finally begins to feel fatigued.

You shut off the water before drying yourself, patting your hair in the towel before pulling on the fluffy robe. It was clearly meant for him, the fuzzy black garment large around the shoulders and sleeves engulfing your hands, the garment nearly touching the floor where it’s meant to hang several inches from it on his frame. Despite swimming in the robe, you couldn’t help but feel a bit vulnerable. You’re bare beneath it, not having planned to not return home. Still, it’s late, and the Oyabun needs to shower as well. With a steadying breath, you step out into the room.

He’s standing near the bed, the top half of his clothing discarded and bare skin exposed, along with the heavy tattooing and scars along his body. Dragon scales decorated his skin, along with delicate swirls heavily resembling smoke and clouds that followed the curves of his corded muscles. He is undoubtedly a beautiful man. You don’t realize you’re staring until a miniscule smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth.

“Enjoying the view, little one?” You blink away your daze and shift your eyes to the side, feeling the slight burn in your face at being caught. Instead of answering the cheeky question you choose to change the subject.

“I’m finished with my shower, Oyabun.” He hums, a low sound you can feel in your chest.

“I can see that, little one. And you call me Shouta.” You take a quiet, sharp inhale and nod.

“Yes, of course...Shouta.” His name feels heavy on your tongue, a name that people didn’t normally dare speak. He’s silent as he gathers his things and moves toward the bathroom, stopping momentarily by your side. You’re confused a moment before his calloused fingers gently grip your jaw and turn your head, his lips pressing softly against your temple for a split second before he’s disappearing into the bathroom.

You stand in shock, the tender touch unexpected. Shaking your head, you decide it’s best to lay down. Hopefully you’d fall asleep by the time he finishes bathing, but you doubted it. You’re proven right when, in the midst of mulling over your own thoughts, he emerges in nothing but sweatpants, dark hair still damp as it fell around his shoulders. You managed to avert your eyes before he could catch you staring for a second time tonight, and it wasn’t long before he slipped under the blankets next to you.

There wasn’t a single word shared between you as he flicked off the lights with a remote and settled into the plush mattress. There was no movement from the man as you lay with your back to him. You aren’t entirely sure if the lack of movement unsettles you more than if he were to be shuffling around. It felt like hours had passed in the darkness, your eyes had adjusted and you couldn’t sleep despite how exhausted you felt.

Your mind raced with questions. What happens now? What happens with your clan and parents? Would you have clothes soon? How would he treat you? How were you supposed to act around him? When is the wedding? Is the engagement already official? What if you disappoint him and fuck everything over? The entire situation makes you anxious, for more than something as trivial as your own safety. You shift onto your back and listen to Shouta’s soft snores, signaling his sleep. As silently and gently as you can, you slip out of bed.

You have no clue what you were going to do or where you were going to do it, but you had to get away from him if only for a moment, to let yourself breathe and think. Almost mindlessly, you find yourself staring out of the glass wall and out into the night. This far out, you can see the stars in the night sky clear and bright, and it was a sight you missed having lived in the city most of your life. Right here you have room to think, space to spread your thoughts and calm your mind to keep from jumbling everything in your brain and stressing over it more.

From what you can tell there is a very small chance Shouta would treat you maliciously, so for now you don’t have to worry about that. Considering his power and status, you won’t be without clothing for long. The thought was silly in the first place, but stress tended to make you question even the most ridiculous. As for how you’re meant to act, well that would have to be tested. He’d already told you how to appear to the public, so that shouldn’t be too hard, but being alone with the man was driving you insane.

Soft footsteps broke you from your thoughts. You spin around, suddenly very much on guard, before Shouta’s voice broke through the darkness, his figure slowly approaching.

“What are you doing up, little one?” You bite your lip and turn to gaze outside again, hugging your arms tight.

“Just thinking. I apologize for waking you, Oya-… Shouta.” His warmth hit you before his skin did, chest pressed into your back and large rough hands gripping your shoulders firm but gentle. His breath is hot on your ear and neck, sending a shiver down your spine. Such an intimate action from him only hours after he’d made you his fiance was quite the shock in and of itself, only enhanced by the fact that this man is known for his cold nature.

“Thinking about what?” His hands smoothed down your arms, following them around your waist and encompassing your hands in his, tugging you into him further. Unnatural as it may seem, it feels good, his warmth. In the arms of such a dangerous and powerful man you should feel small and scared, but you don’t. You aren’t entirely sure what it is you feel. Truthfully, you don’t have the energy to answer his question properly.

“About a lot of things. Too many things.” Right now, the only thing you want to do is melt into the man’s arms. His presence is suddenly comforting, instead of worrying, and you feel safe in his embrace. You sigh and lean into him, fatigue finally beginning to tug at your body and mind. Strong arms scoop you up like nothing, and suddenly you’re being placed down on the bed before he climbs in and pulls you onto him. An arm circles your waist while the other cradles your head, a tender kiss placed at your hairline.

“Sleep, little one.” His fingers thread through your hair, massaging your scalp lightly. It’s a soothing action, especially after nearly giving yourself a headache from stress. It isn’t long before you’re nodding off, relaxing into his body and letting his steady heartbeat lull you to sleep.

#shouta aizawa #shouta aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa bnha #shouta aizawa mha #aizawa shouta #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa shouta bnha #aizawa shouta mha #aizawa fanfiction #aizawa #mafia au bnha #mafia au mha #shouta aizawa x fem reader #aizawa shouta x fem reader

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nissakii · 3 years

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How similar are Kageyama and Todoroki?

Despite the many differences between Kageyama and Todoroki, those two are as well much more similar than you think.

We already covered Bakugo and Oikawa, Deku and Hinata and now follow up with our icy-type characters.

Nissa already wrote about both characters shortly in her BNHA Analysts Shuffle and Haikyuu Sentinel Shuffle, but this will not be about their personality types but a general overview about their similarities, Nissa did a full personality analysis on Kageyama and sometime soon one on Todoroki will follow as well.

To not make you wait any longer let’s get started with our favourite stoic boys and what connects them!

Dense

When we take a look at both Kageyama and Todoroki the first thing that someone would guess is that compared to their abilities that both of them are pretty quick-witted.

Sadly, this is not the case…

Academically speaking Kageyama is not a student that succeeded in it, showing that he wasn’t able to get into Shiratorizawa due to his bad grades unlike Todoroki who is ranked 5th in his class. Yet this is not the aspect showing how dense or quick-witted someone is since grades are not an indicator of what a person is really capable of.

Both Kageyama and Todoroki are unaware of the things happening around them, as they do not realize how the other party might feel when they do or say something. Both are shown to be very observant and have a quick decision-making mind when it comes to their speciality, but everything out of that area is just beyond their understanding.

For example we have Kageyama who often says what is in his mind or how he perceives things not thinking about what the other person might feel about it, which later backlashes at him and even surprises him in a way why that person would be possibly mad.

One case would be that he is not aware of the fact that he hit Oikawa’s soft spots and continued to aggravate and hurt him until Oikawa had lashed out on him, which made him think that Oikawa has a bad personality yet he was the one unintentionally pushing his buttons due to his dense demeanor and inconsiderate way of handling someone else’s emotions, another example would be at the beginning with Hinata.

In Todoroki’s case this applies too, where he doesn’t understand what a person really might feel due to his actions or words. His examples would be firstly Bakugo, who he obviously and indirectly looked down upon by not giving him the fight he demanded and due to him taking everything literally while Bakugo tries to get his attention Todoroki does not react the way others want him to since he is not aware of their emotional state.

Secondly, Yaoyorozu and the practical exam towards the end of season two. While she had a lot of self-doubts after losing miserably in the sport festival arc, she still had a lot on her mind and wanted to help Todoroki as much as she could yet he didn’t really understand the fact that she needed confirmation from someone she respected, here Todoroki.

Very late when they were about to fail the exam and saw the obvious fear and anxiety that Yaoyorozu held he thought back on her behaviour and understood that she had something to say.

Geniuses

We have them in every medium and in our real world too, the kind of people who have overwhelming abilities that only get even more overwhelming the further they rise.

And today we have two of them, the volleyball prodigy and the one who wields two powerful quirks effortlessly.

As shown it doesn’t take them a lot of time to improve vehemently when they actually focus and put their mind on a certain goal. Unlike their peers they set their life for that very goal, making it the only thing that matters to them when it’s endangered in a way.

Todoroki is easier to spot in that category, as the son of the number two hero Endeavor who got into UA through recommendations, all eyes are fixed on him as soon as he enters the stage. Being able to use both ice and fire quirks that he inherited from his parents makes him one of the most watched students that people expect a lot from.

Yet his quirk are not the only thing that makes him a genius since it’s something he inherited but his way of using it in all kinds of ways, continuously over a large period of time and on top of that he moves while planning out a strategy in his mind are the assets that make Todoroki so astonishing. It’s not that he sits down and is amazing just like that, he puts much effort mentally and physically to improve and those that in a speed that is unmatched to his other peers, as he started to use his fire quirk very late he still was able to control it in a short period of time and even started adjusting it for special moves.

On the other hand we have Kageyama, the one known for his eerily accurate tosses that he can adjust and calculate so quickly that other people just can’t believe that especially someone at his age could do such a hard thing.

Iwaizumi Hajime, his former senior in Kitagawa Daiichi who used to play in the same team as him, described Kageyama as a prodigy that surfaced and that his sense for things was overwhelmingly spectacular in Chapter 60.

Even Oikawa mentioned to Iwaizumi at the end of the practice match in season one episode six that when it comes to tosses he cannot match Tobio, which means the best setter of the prefecture sees much more potential in his junior that he is sure that someday he will surpass him, even early that is.

Many others have commended that Kageyama would also be the only one who could pull off the freak duo quick attack that is only possible due to his perfect timing and pin-pointing, he is also able to apply new techniques he sees very quickly as seen when he replicated Oikawa’s dump. Aoba Johsai’s coach as well explained that he wanted Kageyama to join their school to have him in his team but also see many flaws in him, yet he said that at some point Kageyama’s natural abilities are simply unmatched.

Socially inept

Now let’s come to the part where it’s about their social skills and the relationships they have started with.

Which let’s say… is not as astonishing as their ability because if you take both of them only in view on that aspect they surely lack a lot of it, one could also call them socially inept.

Both Kageyama and Todoroki are High Schoolers in their first year, despite their worlds being completely different and also their backgrounds there are many comparable aspects that makes you wonder how they could have survived in society if not for their skills?

Why would I proclaim such a thing you might ask?

Well, Kageyama and Todoroki may seem like well-liked and popular characters among the fandom yet in the anime they are a part of a big society in which they are seen like every other person. We on the other hand watch both their journeys as a third person or a bystander.

Watching them closely and especially how they interact with the people around them gives the most insight into how socially capable those two are separated from their usual role they have to play as either setter or the son of number two hero Endeavor.

First of all both of them seem to have bad relationships with other people before they actually started to develop through other characters, for example Hinata and Oikawa, or Deku and Inasa. One big indicator would be the nickname Kageyama was given since middle school King.

While others think that such a nickname might honor him in a way, or like Oikawa described in chapter 53 he thought it was an esteemed nickname, it turned out that as he went to watch one of his matches he saw the real meaning behind it.

And also the strengths that are also his weaknesses, the solitary king who rules the court by himself wanting everyone to match his pace instead of considering to match theirs, others even called him dictator.

In the end he even was left-behind by his team just to toss… to nobody behind him since his pressuring and egotistical behaviour concluded that after a long time of trying to keep up with it since he is so skilled they finally gave up after becoming fed up with his worsening dictatorship on them.

Which is also seen as he entered Karasuno High and told Hinata he will only toss to people he thinks worthy and important in order to win, making a lot of enemies from the get-go in his new fresh High School start.

In some of the matches it’s seen that he and Tsukishima are not on good terms either since the former is someone who doesn’t like to be bossed around and the latter gets easily provoked by him. He doesn’t understand simple social cues either and takes most of the things as either insults or ignores them since he doesn’t understand them until his seniors have to explain to him how he should work out things and what he does need to improve, not skill-wise but in his communication and interactions.

On the other hand we have Todoroki who is just like Kageyama but not as worse as him in that aspect. He simply didn’t care about the people around him as he focussed on himself rather than social interactions and playing friends as he called it in the school festival arc.

Not being able to recognize other people’s feelings as he turned away from the people around him and rather was stuck in his own world he tried to fight in.

Yet even later when he had a new fresh start after the sport festival arc, it’s seen that Todoroki is still socially inept in many ways, he doesn’t understand social cues as well sometimes he wonders what he said to others which could have made them angry.

He takes most of the things people say to him literally as he even misunderstood Midoriya and Lida when they were together at the hospital, blaming himself and wondering if he is cursed already wanting to distance himself from them after they joke around about their arms.

But thankfully they found the right people to make them develop more into people who try to understand those around them.

Narrow-minded alike

Pride and a narrow-mind connects those two as well.

Ever saw a person so stubborn and lost in their own world and goals that they do not even realize where they are heading to or what is happening around them?

Two examples of exactly two people who match that description, Kageyama Tobio and Todoroki Shoto.

In that both of them really don’t differ in any way beside the implementation of how it is presented.

Especially towards the beginning of both serieses that character-trait is depicted heavily, as we see both of them fixated on winning, surpassing others and becoming better over a short period of time making them even trample over other people’s feelings directly and indirectly.

They live in their own world where they have to solve their problems all by themselves and see everyone else as either a stepping stone or obstruction.

Stubbornness can be good in some situations but in their case it’s a critical condition that is criticised by close people and strangers, since they start to lose themselves in their bad habits as they recklessly do as they think is the right way to proceed.

Kageyama would be a prime example as he even says those words harshly to his peers that if he could, he would set, toss, spike and receive the ball all by himself. He also criticises others and deems them as slackers or not being serious just because they cannot match his skills instead of trying to widen his perspective on matters.

There is also his strong sense of pride that doesn’t let things go so simply one example would be that he immediately tried to replicate Oikawa when he scored a point in a way that would humiliate him, in his eyes.

Another scene was when Hinata proposed to try to hit the ball by himself and learn to spike on his own instead of relying on Kageyama only, which made him irritated as he rejected the idea instantly, telling him their former way of handling the quick attack was efficient enough.

Todoroki as mentioned doesn’t really differ as he is fixated on beating his father by becoming the best hero with only his ice quirks, rendering him to only see revenge and rage in everything he does considering his quirks. It leaves him to forget the wonderful things that his mother told him and also made him lose the sense of himself. Until Deku had to wake him up and tell him the most obvious thing which he couldn’t see in front of him.

But that’s not the only scene where we could see that trait clearly, another one would be at the Provisional Hero License Exam. Inasa who is someone Todoroki couldn’t understand at all and disliked due to him comparing Shoto to Endeavor made him lose himself in his former habits of showing him that he isn’t like his father at all. It concluded into him not getting his license as he lost his senses and even caused the people around him to be in danger due to his reckless behaviour.

Silence before storm

Connected to the former paragraph, the seemingly silent pair has their own storm going on if you push the right buttons.

Despite being usually very calm and silent about certain things they can become easily aggravated in other situations.

Just like mentioned before Todoroki only needs to hear his father’s name to become a bit louder or even erupt into either a statue of ice or an inferno of flames like seen in season two and three.

Which goes as well when he is excited and in adrenaline he can sound much louder and aggressive in comparison to his usual self.

For Kageyama this goes as soon as Hinata pushes his buttons, he immediately shoots some moron or dumbass when he is around and does anything close to messing up or provoking him. Tsukishima on the other hand is very smart in how he provokes Kageyama, mostly leaving him only angry or boiling inside instead.

Another person who would be able to accomplish that would be Oikawa when they are competing, showing a much more childish side as he has little fights with his senior, as seen in season two as both of them fought over the ball that has fallen to the ground, yet Oikawa is rather someone who challenges him and scratches on his pride and ego.

Secret sleeper and in-between eater

There is always that one character you watch in the background, because while everyone in the panel or scene is doing something much more interesting, you will find that character doing irrelevant stuff that seems unlikely for his/her character.

And our pair for today are two of those characters, that when there is nothing to do for them in the main scene they are doing their own business not caring what others might think of them.

Both of them are very serious characters, who seem cold and stoic on the outside even aggressive sometimes but as soon as the attention of the events is derived from them or there is a little pause in-between scenes you can spot their little dorky and cute sides, that shows yes those boys are still young and innocent highschoolers.

While they share their love for food, secretly snacking in the background or even having a full lunch in the midst of a serious talk between other characters, those two don’t even blink an eye turning away from the attention.

Kageyama just eats an Onigiri after a really serious scene where Oikawa had a panic attack in middle school, the scene obviously revolves more on Oikawa’s perception and fear explaining a bit the important role Iwaizumi has in his life as the person who brings him back on earth. Yet the other important person who caused the whole scene, Kageyama, moves to the background eating his snack casually as if nothing happened.

Same goes when Saeko, Tanaka’s sister, gives them a crazy drive to Tokyo.

We already saw in the early anime episodes that Kageyama sleeps most of the time in his classes or when nothing important is going on for him, but in Saeko’s car he just took the back rear for a midday nap and afterwards eats a snack half-asleep while she is drifting like crazy.

Since the focus was more on Saeko and Hinata talking about the little giant, Kageyama seemed to take the opportunity to move his out-of-character moments to the background.

Very similar to Todoroki Shoto, there is not much difference as he does basically the same as Kageyama. Even when he is only passively in the whole scene he just silently eats and watches his peers making most of the decisions like seen in their dorm lives and also sleeping on train or bus rides where most of his classmates are having fun meanwhile.

As seen when they made a plan to save Bakugo, Todoroki could easily enjoy a lunch and take a little nap in such dire situations.

In the manga it’s a running gag that when he is not much mentioned in the main events that you can spot him in a corner visibly or unconsciously doing one of those two things.

An adorable side-view of their usually serious and seemingly adult-like character.

Rival

Last but not least, the ever-repeating rival relationship essence for complex characters.

The difference here is that both of them are already better than their supposed rivals Deku (and later Bakugo), and Oikawa.

You might think that when your ability level is already top-notch you might not need to worry about your rivals who you can surpass any time needed, but that is wrong in both cases.

Kageyama and Todoroki work even harder and as they work harder they cannot unsee the other strengths of their rivals which makes them so different.

Ability is nice and good, but there are other factors that matter in both a Volleyball player and a soon-to-be Prohero, which they both lack and see clearly in their rivals.

Personality-wise and in the ways they handle things their rivals are still unmatched in their eyes.

For Todoroki, Deku is someone he cannot reach yet when it comes to the true essence of a hero and his problem-solving thoughts, as well as his overly caring side for others that he admires so much. Clearly Todoroki is stronger than Deku physically and he already defeated him in many ways but he still thinks that there is a lot to learn from him.

Later on he even sees qualities in Bakugo who does take his hero path seriously and respects any opponent that comes his way, treating them like a threat which is the biggest respect one can give. Todoroki himself never saw his opponents but only his father in front of him which leaded him to overlook his allies and enemies, and Bakugo who even took Ochako serious when everyone else didn’t and clearly told him he should look what’s in front of him became one of the other rivals he had set his eyes on.

Kageyama has his one and only rival Oikawa, which he looks up to since middle school and thinks of someone he cannot compare to. Despite Oikawa already stating that Tobio will surpass him one day and that it might be sooner than he would expect, Kageyama still fears his senior and thinks the exact opposite.

As stated before Kageyama is unmatched ability-wise and in season two he even won against Oikawa, but as he saw Ushijima that seemed a bit intimidating he clearly said that he not afraid of anyone beside Oikawa, which is a big indicator that he still thinks of Oikawa as a big threat and rival that should be feared.

Oikawa is the kind of setter Kageyama aspires to be, he has other traits that Kageyama watches closely and is amazed by, one would be his quick and astonishing adaptability as he mentioned he is like a ruler who rules over his army.

When Kageyama needed advice he turned to Oikawa despite his pride and ego, fully aware that Oikawa might drop comments that would make fun of him.

In Kageyama’s case his rival is in a complex way his mentor and senior at the same time, as well a former teammate and fellow setter which connects those two not by only rivalry how others might think but in many more ways.

What do you think?

Did you see any similarities that I might have missed out or do you think some might not apply in your opinion?

Drop it down in the comments, I would be eager to read them!

As again I might leave you this time, but I will return again with another tea,

vanishing Makii

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khazzman · 4 years

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Mighty Nein Jedi Headcanons

Beau: Viewed as a hardass by her students, Master Lionett is the resident instructor in Form VI, able to move her double bladed lightsaber with ease. She is a believer in “tough love” sometimes being a little caustic with her students while actually caring for their well being. She is also an advocate of “do as I say, not as I do” as she has a long history of butting heads with the Jedi High Council. She is usually reserved for missions that require secrecy. She wields a double bladed lightsaber, coated with rich dark wood and silver alloys with a blue crystal.

Caleb: A troubled former Sith, Jedi Shadow Widogast is still hesitant on taking on any apprentices. Despite urging from the Council, he instead favors on going on solo missions or meditating in the gardens with his Lothcat, Frumpkin. His missions often involve tracking down dark Force users and bringing them to justice. He is quite skilled in the force, previously being a master of Sith lightening. Now he holds back while in combat, focusing more on lightsaber forms which he can control better. He is skilled in Form II and performs it with a degree of elegance. He wields an almost artistically curved lightsaber with a yellow crystal.

Jester: A cheerful blue Twi’lek, Knight Lavorre is beloved by the younglings at the temple. She is a master of pranks and jokes, relishing in the joy of living that the Force brings. Despite the warnings against forming attachments, Jester loves her friends and fellow masters deeply and has formed strong Force bonds with each. In combat she favors Form IV, flipping and twirling about her enemies. However, she mostly favors mind tricks, getting hostiles to instead break out into dance or song instead of battle. She is often sent out on missions of mercy to aid those in need in the Outer Rim. Her lightsaber is a rather gaudy silver one inlaid with several precious blue gemstones that belonged to her mother. Her crystal is blue.

Fjord: Once a pirate in the Outer Rim, Knight Fjord was brought into the fold by Jedi Master Caduceus. The Nautolan, due his pirate past, is preferred for missions that include the underworld. However, while on Nar Shaddaa he can walk the walk and talk the talk, in the Temple he is always eager to learn new things. He can sometimes be found just listening in on Master Caduceus’ lectures on the living Force and losing himself in them. Still a bit of a beginner in lightsaber combat, he tends to favor the simplicity of Form I. His lightsaber is a very simple design with a green crystal, though he still tends to carry a blaster as his swordsmanship is not the best.

Nott: A jumpy but trusty Chadra-Fan, Jedi Nott is considered a bit of an oddball around the temple. She is often confused by people’s turn of phrase and tends to think she is better at reading emotions than she really is. She brought Shadow Widogast to the Temple after she befriended him on a mission, eventually helping to save his life. She has a bit of a drinking problem, often sneaking away to cantinas for her fill of Juri Juice, though this has sometimes been seen to make her hard to hit in combat. She favors Form V, deflecting enemy blasterbolts as her own attack. Her lightsaber is a cobbled together bit of tech she has found all over the galaxy, with a green crystal. The missions she goes on usually have to do with exploration and investigation as when paired with Jedi Lavorre, she is quite the sleuth.

Yasha: Jedi Battlemaster Yasha, is an Arkanian of great strength and power. Once a great warrior in the Outer Rim, she came to the Jedi after losing everything. Her combat skills are unmatched by many in the temple but her dark past and temper can catch up with her in the heat of battle. She is other wise polite and soft spoken if a bit distance. She favors Form VII, a fact that makes many Jedi anxious at it can most often lead to the dark side, though it enables her to use her might effectively. Her lightsaber is a dark metal with a flowery design along the edge while the crystal is purple. Her saber is unusually long, her emitter often set to its highest, though she prefers it like that.

Caduceus: Jedi Master Caduceus is a well respected sage within the Jedi Order. The Yarkoran Jedi is an expert on meditation and feeling the will of the force. A source of comfort and guidance, he is one of the main tutors of the younglings as well as giving counsel to those who need it in his long tea drinking sessions. It has been so long that no one really knows what his lightsaber looks like or what color it is. Rather, he carries a staff about with him made of living wood and prefers to negotiate rather than fight. He is a master of using of the Force to calm the minds of others so they might think clearly and hopefully be more understanding. His lightsaber is made from the same wood as his staff and the blade is a pure white. When he was younger he favored Form III but now is content that if he dies in combat, he simply will be one with the Force. He is more concerned with protecting others anyway.

Might add more later. Is this my cry for help that I want to do a Star Wars RPG? Yes. Yes it is.

#critical role #star wars #jedi #beau #caleb widogast #jester #fjord #nott #yasha #caduceus #headcanons

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thecrazygamingzombie · 5 years

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monster prom super hero AU because why not?

four normal college students: Oz, Amira, Brian, and Vicky stumble upon an ancient artifact during a semester abroad that bestows mystical powers upon them which results in the formation of the superhero team ‘The Spooky Squad.’

Oz A.K.A ‘The Shadow Walker’ gained the power of shadow and fear manipulation, not only can he sink into shadows and use them to move around but he can also morph his body into different shapes as well as create projections to fool his enemies; the king of stealth and deception. He serves as the voice of reason

Amira A.K.A ‘Blaze Girl.’ A pyromancer with a wide arsenal to work with: long range fire balls, mid range fire blasts, short range fire punches, summoning fire imps, increasing the temperature around her. The only limit is her own ingenuity. She is the reckless wildcard of the group.

Brian A.K.A ‘undying man’ the muscle of the four, Brian gained super strength from his artifact with enough power to yeet cars like baseballs, an accelerated healing factor, and the inability to ever feel fatigued; he will essentially never get tired no matter how hard he pushes himself. He is the strong silent member of the group.

Vicky A.K.A ‘positive charge’. After the accident Vicky found she could manipulate electrical energy to her whims but found that said power was highly unstable and as such built equipment to control and regulate it: a pair of shocker gauntlets and a battery pack serve as such allowing her to create dozens of shocking attacks of her own mechanization such as ball lightning, electrical strikes, and even can surf on her own electricity. The undisputed leader of the four.

Now a hero is only as good as their villains, here’s who they go up against:

Damien Lavey A.K.A. ‘The Anarchrist’ (yes you read that correctly) the leader of an anarchist gang in Monsteropolis and former friend of Amira, him and his followers want nothing more than to see the city burn to the ground for laughs and will do anything to achieve such no matter how reckless or dangerous it is, even going so far as to take on the spooky squad single-handedly, said behaviors often lead to his downfall. He is a being of nothing but chaos as well as a skilled combatant and arsonist.

Vera Oberlin A.K.A ‘The chairwoman’ the head honcho of the criminal underbelly of Monsteropolis, any form of organized crime that is performed within Monsteropolis has to go through her for confirmation, every single mobster and lowlife in the city knows to fear and respect her. Her right hand woman is her own sister Valerie Oberlin who despite her more relaxed appearance can be just as brutal and cunning as her boss. Her own plots often bring her in conflict with the Spooky Squad due to their criminal nature but instead of fighting them herself she prefers to send out goons to do her dirty work for her while she stays in the shadows, goons like:

Aaravi A.K.A. ‘The Slayer.’ A professional assassin for hire and one of the best in her field. With a habit of working for less than wholesome clientele (Vera being her most frequent employer) she often finds herself duking it out with the Spooky Squad; with unmatched fighting skill and a ridiculous amount of equipment at her disposal she is more than a match for the four but still tends to fall flat more than she overcomes them, primarily due to over confidence.

Miranda Vanderbilt A.K.A ‘the Siren’ by day Miranda Vanderbilt seems to be nothing more than an innocent little rich girl, a young heiress whose adorable mannerisms have managed to worm their way into the hearts of Monsteropolis’ aristocracy. But by night she is far different, serving as the head of a secret organization known as ‘the Merfolk Court’ that seeks to subjugate the populace through acts of terrorism and assassination in order to usher in the new era where they rule over all; Miranda also holds a creepy obsession with Oz in his Shadow Walker persona, seeing him as the perfect suitor she continuously tries to convince him to join her and rule the masses alongside her with little success.

Scott Howl A.K.A. ‘Dire Wolf’ Now Scott is just another normal college football player, doing normal jock stuff and being a relatively kind person to others, even occasionally hanging out with the spooky squad’s civilian identities. However, due to a curse placed upon him by a sorcerer as a child for breaking a window on said sorcerer’s house with a football, he is susceptible to turning into a giant wolf monster when angered causing Scott to black out and his feral form to take control of his body with greatly enhanced physical abilities that can rivals even Brian’s, Scott is one tough zit to pop when he loses control. While he is unaware of his condition the Spooky Squad hopes to cure him one day.

Polly Geist A.K.A. ‘the Phantom Thief’. An infamous thief operating out of Monsteropolis, Polly uses the cover of drunken party girl at her college campus (the very same that the spooky squad attends) to carry out her heists where she steals anything that isn’t nailed down. This is less out of need and more for the pure rush she gets from running around the rooftops, taking whatever she pleases, that she just can’t get from drugs and alcohol. For reasons that are never quite explained as Polly keeps giving a different backstory every time, she possesses magical abilities similar to that of a ghost such as turning intangible, firing out beams of ecto energy, among other things which makes her far harder to catch than most. There is totally a Batman and Catwoman dynamic going on between her and Vicky.

Of course there is also the matter of the supporting cast:

Zoe, a journalism student at Spooky U. She is a longtime friend of the members of spooky squad going back all the way to middle school who frequently tags along with them whenever they do their little hangouts. However she has no idea that they are actually superheroes. Zoe has an obsession with the spooky squad as whole, following them whenever she can and documenting their exploits; while this often puts her in harm’s way it never deters her as she is just too determined. Most of all she wants to find out the Spooky Squad’s secret identities and has even made a room dedicated to investigating this, sadly though despite very obvious signs that her friends are the ones playing hero she never realizes it; even when there is blatant evidence of it she finds a way to twist it around so that it points somewhere else.

Calculester, an advanced AI program discovered by Vicky in the bowls of the engineering building at Spooky U. After activation he set about building himself a body and hooking himself up to the web, Cal now serves as the spooky squad’s eye in the sky and ear on the ground, getting Intel about all sorts of shady things going down within the city so they can get there in time and stop it; Being a robot he has to keep himself hidden from view but he does have a disguise that he uses to go out on occasion (imagine just a set of groucho marx glasses and a sign that says ‘totally not a robot’, somehow this works...). He is essentially the unofficial fifth member of the Spooky Squad and has some serious sexual tension with Brian despite being a robot.

Liam De Lioncourt. One of the few who actually knows who the spooky squad are, Liam is a professor at Spooky U who teaches the subject of ancient Mythos and legends; being an expert on the subject he was able to discern where exactly the Spooky Squad’s powers originated from and as such teach them all the proper way to use them. A mentor like figure that each of them go to when they feel lost and confused as well as when they need help with controlling their abilities, he may still be extremely condescending about it but he fills that role extremely well. May or may not have his own secret past where he was a super hero himself.

The Coven, basically the other super hero team working in Monsteropolis that also goes to Spooky U, while the Spooky Squad tends to fight more street level threats theCcoven’s focus is more on the mystical threats from alternate worlds although both teams have been known to work together on occasion for greater threats that neither can handle by themselves. They have their own series as well as their own rogues gallery consisting of cult leader Dimitri, the Inter-Dimensional Prince, Dahlia the demon invader, and mad monk Leonard.

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amberenigma · 4 years

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stream of consciousness thoughts on ( ovan’s ) will. and about graphics. this is your spoiler warning for volume 4: reconnection.

i spent too long last night playing gu for a hot second and now i have some Thoughts:tm: about plots, ovan, and the notion of will. enjoy some 2015 levels of rambling about objectively minuscule details.

anyway literal toilet thought but the archives have a very interesting way of creating meaningful iconography using particular design elements of characters ( mainly the infinity eight ) and minimizing it to something both unique and recognizable. namely, the epitaph pattern icons used for each player in the archives---they’ve always been really neat, unique, and it’s been something that the cc2 team has always used in their archives since _02.

ovan’s has changed between trilogy/original gu and volume 4, which i always thought was pretty neat, especially in terms of what’s actually presented.

( but anyone with the book be like: okay but haseo has a different one too in volume 4!! and i say shshshshshshshh this came about purely because of unison skeith’s icon which uses haseo’s epitaph version since he’s.......you know.......skeith’s host. epitaph talk will come up later )

anyway excuse my 5 minute “slap a banner of images” but the difference here is obvious and i just have an appreciation for what it means with aida---mostly that aida was acknowledged and treated as a completely different entity, an anomaly that didn’t belong on ovan at all and depicted as such during the trilogy. but after kusabira fuses back with him as true neighbor ( which i always thought was a very interesting name to give tri-edge ), we get a spiffy new icon for big blue and wah-lah, aida is now cyan! YAAAA!!! whether or not ovan actually accepts her as part of him ( in which he at least seems reluctant in-game, not so much my main verse after 6 years of writing him lmao ) is rather up for debate, but here we can at least verify that she’s not there to be malicious per se ( but that doesn’t quite exclude her as a menace, see haseo’s “it’s kusabira, isn’t it. it’s that aida whispering in your ear.” ), and not to the extent of trying to completely fuck up his day. i found that slight change pretty interesting. this is where i get into the meat of what i wanted to talk about.

the notion of will in .hack---gu in particular.

but first i do wanna say that there’s this blaring fucking pothole when it comes to corbenik and the rebirth that i don’t know will ever be explained. like. if it’s a failsafe that was a one and done thing, then corbenik should have been......destroyed or severely damaged or something.....right...or at least that’s what kind of makes sense to me unless the product of the RA plan really makes epitaphs less prone to the crumbly wumblies like they were in imoq after being salvaged. although that doesn’t seem to be the case given unison skeith is a solid half corbenik/half skeith. it’s bothered me for years and canon doesn’t really lean one way or the other, it just is ( again, i’ve written something out for my corbi blog years ago and tl;dr ovan and azure kite go fish him out of the sea of data, put him together, but he lacks the ability to rebirth again--i need to tag that thread actually ). but maybe he’s never meant to truly disappear as his moniker implies. always coming back ( additionally fitting for ovan, but i digress ).

will is an interesting concept in gu. and at least with ovan specifically, it’s a strangely powerful trait in him, which may be why part of why he has this sort of enigmatic sort of vibe to him to anyone---this notion of, “i don’t know what this guy wants, but whatever it is, he’ll get it one way or another.” and i think it may really be stronger than at first glance, pivotal almost. we see it twice in dire moments, even though he’s so, so tired.

the first ( and not chronologically, there’s obvious some other off-screen moments we can speculate, these are just two instances that come to mind clearly ) is with the fight with cubia in redemption, where 7 of the 8 are trying to break through ballsack cubia’s final AT field ( forgive me it looks like an AT field what can we expect from sadamoto okay ). yata says they can’t do it without “the epitaph of rebirth”, which always struck me as odd for quite awhile. what did he mean by epitaph of rebirth? didn’t haseo have all of the epitaph data in his pc? he data drained corbenik twice now, they should be okay, no?

but, yata wasn’t referring to corbenik specifically in this case. he was referring to ovan, and in that extension, corbenik as his epitaph. the remnant data skeith absorbed was essentially not enough in this case despite corbenik containing a metric fuckton of data between himself and aida. what skeith can’t devour is human will. ovan’s will.

in the archives, ovan’s specifically noted to have an extremely high mental resilience---it’s the primary trait that attracted corbenik in the first place when searching for a host. this could mean quite a few things, honestly, and taking into account what little of his past we actually know, it makes sense that his sense of direction is incredibly poignant, his will to be essentially unmatched ( although parallel to haseo’s in my opinion, just simply a different flavor ). the man’s just an absolute unit. it’s also noted that ovan didn’t really take into account the repercussions of activating the rebirth and purging the net, thus spawning our good friend cubia, so he truly was just ready to go sleep forever. paraphrasing aura here, the rest of the infinity eight’s praying for ovan to hear their collective voices ( admittedly it just boils down to ovan hearing haseo’s voice, gestures at lost files in the trilogy archives which is a hilarious conversation by the way; “leave me be, i’m tired. i just want to sleep.” ) is what gets him to muster up any remaining strength he has left to come help.

it’s an interesting sequence of scenes with haseo’s cracked data just magically healing up once ovan enters the picture---his presence alone drives haseo. it’s his image and his voice that’s alongside haseo’s ( which is an interesting choice because it could have been all eight of them in this case ). his will is what catalyzes everything to it’s end, including himself.

the second is the avatar fight with moralta, where haseo realizes that he can’t do it alone again---and ovan is still surprisingly able to put himself through that kind of strain despite being in the deep freeze for a year ( avatar and all! again! goddamn! ), combining into unison skeith and yeeting the shit out of giant slug baby once and for all. this particular encounter takes a different note compared to cubia considering we hear both of them synced up ( literally all of their dialogue is the same )---and beyond the fact this whole epilogue is about haseo and ovan, it really ends up being the sheer fact that it’s both of them together that overcome and stop moralta from fucking up [the world]. sheer will’s a strong motive for pretty much all of vol 4 though, so this is kinda expected. it’s haseo’s lament at the end that poses an interesting discussion---he couldn’t do it by himself again ( in this case he is referring to everyone as a whole as well before finding ovan, too ). for all of the power that he holds via skeith, kusabira, etc, he still needed ovan there to push to victory. i’ve always felt that was an interesting distinction the staff has made throughout the gu timeline ( in any retelling of it, actually ). even ovan has to let him know that it’s the fact he had a warband of support that got him that far in the first place despite the trauma ovan had pushed him through.

the series has been consistent about ovan’s ability to push things the extra mile, even for things that he may not personally want, even if there’s few people he’d undoubtedly be alongside. his involvement makes all of the difference, and that’s powerful in it’s own way ( he is the antihero after all ). we see the power ovan has by guiding the events of gu throughout all three volumes, but we really see just how strong he is when he’s actually on-screen the few times he’s there for more than 10 seconds. it’s kind of fucking insane such a laidback personality has that much influence on the outcome of incredibly dangerous/dire/important situations.

when he knows exactly what he wants, he knows exactly what makes people tick, and what makes the world around him change. ovan’s will is a terrifying weapon and it’s one of my favorite details about him.

and last thing that just came to mind from playing around last night..

in one of the demo trailers, haseo’s monologue expresses the emotions he’s experienced throughout playing to that point---specific people embody specific emotions, and in ovan’s case, he’s associated with despair. despair drives ovan--haseo’s correct about that honestly even if the context of what he knows boils down to the fact ovan’s burdened with aida and saving his sister ( things we see in the archives explicitly point out that the indou parents are straight up dead ). this man has lost so much, is losing too much, and is on the brink of losing even more during the events of gu and it shows. despair is a powerful force, a reaction to the things one has experienced and an outlet for all of the things it can cause. a man with nothing left to lose is the most dangerous and the most powerful of them all even in silence---and somehow, somehow ovan has managed to keep his edge despite being on the brink of death himself in the real world. that’s fucking scary.

#( ╳┊ headcanon. )#i guess?? i don't have a tag for whole ass rambles but this is a huge part of his character.#god i just [clenches fist] love ovan so much he's so [clenches other fist] shrimptresting......even after 10+ years.....

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theworldbrewery · 4 years

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A playlist for my current party: 4 idiots + their honorary cult grandma, four with new names and one with someone else’s--god I love them. they requested a playlist breakdown so i’ve placed it under a cut for brevity. I’m always soft for making fan content for the campaigns I’m in tbh.

Alice: an elf-turned half-orc after a reincarnate spell went awry, her wild magic caused her marriage to fall apart when she accidentally burned down her home. She’s looking for control over the magic that is ruining her life.

Remmy: a man of many names, Remmy is an aasimar cleric with more secrets than even the other party members are aware of. He’s untrusting and full of fear, but the party gets him to open up--against his better judgment.

Gadao: an earth genasi from an isolated monastery, he’s looking for an identity of his own after realizing he may not be an incarnation of an ancestral spirit after all. Looking for his place in the world, the party’s fast-paced life contrasts with his steady nature.

Leap: an elderly tiefling ranger, she grew up in a cult of pain and left it only by good fortune. Her taste for adventure--and a need for closure--keep her on the road, though she looks forward to seeing her family again.

Blue: an aarakocra bard, Blue awoke with no memory and promptly joined a shady merchant vessel as a good-luck musician. They’re always down to fight, curious, and ready to hoard as many items as they can get their hands on.

Anger | Sleeping at Last

I love the way this song opens, the energy it has. Favorite lyrics are “it all spills out/reckless but honest words leave my mouth,” which maybe speaks to my love of intra-party conflict… but I also have a soft spot for “and suddenly I’m someone that prays/last-minute man of faith” given the campaign’s attention to the divine. I’ve really loved leaning into that. It feels like this song has threads that connect to every character.

Hellfire | Barns Courtney

God, I love the chorus to this song. I feel that in this party, Leap and Remmy have the strongest links in these lyrics, between Leap’s simmering fury at her cult and Remmy’s...everything. There’s a period of the song that isn’t quite an instrumental, but has sort of mangled lyrics/rap, and though I can’t quite make it out, one bit sounds like “roll the dice” -- a fun nod to D&D as a whole and the risk-takers among the party.

Blood I Bled | The Staves

My favorite lyric here is “raise your banners and ride to war/throwing ‘round your name.” This song feels like a challenge to the world, suitable for a group of adventurers just forming a party. The singers and songwriters mention the song as one of “no, I won’t take this bullshit,” and that strong message really speaks to the PCs.

Hustler | Zayde Wølf

Hustler is all about coming out on top, and y’all are “turning up the heat” all the time. “Looking at the city like I already own it” feels like a foreshadowing moment to me; one day, when you all are level 10, 15, 20, you might reach an unmatchable power, if you live long enough to see it.

Homemade Dynamite | Lorde

I chose this song for the absolute clusterfuck D&D parties can be. “Don’t know you super well/but I think that you might be the same as me/Behave abnormally” encapsulates something really funny about party members getting to know each other and start to trust each other, even when the rule might still be “I’ll give you my best side, tell you all my best lies,” and your secrets and private problems haven’t yet come to light.

Nervous | X Ambassadors

The chorus of foreboding in “cause what comes up must come down” is, how do I put this? Iconique. I think this song especially fits Leap and Alice, both of whom are aware of how quickly things can go awry but put a cheerful face on their own worries. Even when nothing’s wrong (“and I can’t complain, it’s amazing”) they know things could go south quickly.

An Act of Kindness | Bastille

This song best fits Leap and Gadao’s relationship, especially when they met. “Oh I got a feeling this will shake me down/Oh I’m kind of hoping this will turn me round” seems to speak directly to Gadao pulling Leap away from the cult and giving her the opportunity to be better than she was. On another level, the party’s bonds are born from acts of kindness and friendship--Remmy buying lorebooks for Alice, Leap making tea, Gadao stepping in to defend the party from the mimic.

Everybody Wants to Rule the World | Lorde

Despite the name, this has something for everyone, I think. “Turn your back on Mother Nature” suits Alice’s vendetta against the Forest Father, “Help me make the most of freedom/and of pleasure” fits Blue’s brand of hedonism, “It’s my own remorse” echoes Leap’s regrets. Gadao alone doesn’t quite fit in here...unless… >:)

Kicks | Barns Courtney

This is a Blue song! “I’ll show you how to live for free” the artist sings, and Blue’s freewheeling lifestyle seeking “kicks” matches this energy really well. If Blue is “a wild one” “singing in the midnight street,” they’re getting their kicks with this party for sure. Blue lives without being tied down, theoretically limitless.

Hail to the Victor | Thirty Seconds to Mars

This song is about Leap, no question. “Another life, another love/another kill, another drug” fits into Leap’s two lives, one in the cult and one out of it. And in this new mission against Babylon Lionel, she’s seeking a revenge of her own, though it’s one against her childhood more than her actual enemy.

I’m a Wanted Man | Royal Deluxe

Remmy “would kill again to keep from doing time,” without a doubt, so this one’s for him. Constantly warning he’s trouble for his friends, saying that “you should never ever trust my kind” isn’t too far off. Like Remmy, this song is edgy, but with a hesitant moment of emo-ness that makes the performance of darkness something a little more genuine.

Big God | Florence and the Machine

Alice is not a faithful woman, but she’s unfortunately entangled in some religious nonsense she hates. At the same time, I feel lyrics like “you’ll always be my favorite ghost” refer best to Alice’s fraught relationship with her wife. My favorite line here is “Sometimes I think it’s getting better/and then it gets much worse,” which is essentially Alice’s experience of her wild magic. Deep down, she might even be drawn to the magic’s chaos, but she can’t help but resent what it’s taking away from her.

Wisdom, Justice, and Love | Linkin Park

This one’s for Gadao. It starts off so peaceful and hopeful, the instrumentals overlaid with a speech by Martin Luther King, Jr. But as he starts to list the evils of the world, King’s voice, so steady and confident, is warped. Gadao’s own faith experience becomes warped by the power games of the people around him, and even as he’s seeking “wisdom, justice, and love,” he can’t escape the effects of materialism and violence around him.

Icarus | Bastille

Some folks live steady lives, but not these people. Adventurer’s lives tend to burn bright, hot, and short. From Leap’s perspective, most of the party is made of kids who don’t know the world yet. Are they “digging their own grave,” “too close to the sun?” Despite their ride-or-die commitments, Leap can see all of you risking yourselves--and for what? Who do you want to be, at the end of it all? A wife and mason? A sage and monk? Or do you want greater things than that?

Losing My Religion | Dia Frampton

I can hear so much of Remmy’s opinions in this song, saying “I’m choosing my confessions, trying to keep an eye on you” but realizing, over and over again: “Oh no, I’ve said too much.” As he tries to keep up his own facades, Gadao and Leap’s own faith collides with the beliefs of a cult leader and Alice struggles with a religion she doesn’t care for at all.

Start a War | Klergy and Valerie Broussard

Like Hail to the Victor, this song is all about Leap’s conflict with the cult of Loviatar and the Mother of Martyrs. Even though the Loviatar cult might be gone, the spirit lives on. My favorite line for Leap here is “bang, shots fired/pain is what you desire,” for the decision to challenge Babs to a one-on-one fight. But is it Babs who is starting this war, or Leap?

Friction | Imagine Dragons

This one kind of gives me Gadao vibes with the lyrics “when you’ve made it/won’t you tell me what to do?” After all that pressure to fulfill the expectations of other people, he has to get out of the middle and move on, maybe even become someone new. Key line is “why can’t you let go/like a bird in the snow/this is no place to build your home,” reminding Gadao that he doesn’t have a place in this world. Not yet.

Transcendental Youth | the mountain goats

“Sing, sing for ourselves alone,” sings John Darnielle, and maybe that’s what makes this feel so much like Blue. Maybe it’s the lyric, “cedar smudge our headbands/and take to the skies/soar ever upwards,” calling to Blue’s dislocation from time and place, flying away from their problems. Blue doesn’t remember their childhood, and has no idea how old they are. Even if they did know, their lifespan is short. They live every day like the halcyon days of youth, footloose and fancy-free indeed.

Champion | Barns Courtney

I swear this is the last Barns Courtney song. But this song is the resilience of coming through fights and perils and dangers. My favorite lyric is “Oh, Lord, save my soul/take my pain and turn it into gold” which, incidentally, is exactly what happens when you level up. The party’s struggles translate to strength, to influence, to skill, and even riches.

In the Woods Somewhere | Hozier

On the one hand, this could be about any combat in the dark woods at night (*cough*, Remmy killing that dragonborn, *cough*). But more importantly, this song is about Alice. She struggles with a power she doesn’t understand, with something’s eyes on her that she can’t fight. The best she can do is run from the danger and try to survive it. Whatever eyes are watching her now, Alice better take care. Favorite line? “I clutched my life/and wished it kept/my dearest love/I’m not done yet.”

Natural | Imagine Dragons

Natural tells the party one way of surviving. The line “you gotta be so cold/to make it in this world” suits Remmy’s outlook so well, the one he pushes at the rest of the party. The line “rather be the hunter than the prey” speaks well to Blue’s tactics--preferring to act from above. Alice and Leap know better than anyone that “nothing ever comes without a consequence or cost,” and Gadao may be the only one ‘holding the line’ against a harder heart. Another song with bits and pieces associated with everyone.

Dead Hearts | Stars

There isn’t a specific lyric here that jumps out at me, no line that tells me who this song is for. This is the song for the ones who die--those who have, and who will. We might not be there yet, but this is a song for acknowledging the sacrifice of your friends and allies. The knowledge that you knew them once, and in some ways, their ghost stays with you. Or maybe they’re revived, or reincarnated, but there’s always something a little different.

The Projectionist | Sleeping at Last

Eventually the session ends, and the story closes, and the lights come up. “We’re leaving our shadows behind us now/we’re leaving, we’re leaving it all behind for now,” Ryan O’Neill sings. We’re putting on costumes, telling a story for each other, and maybe the game ends every time, but maybe it makes us brave. I’d like to think so.

The lyrics to all these songs can be found at Genius.com. Thanks xx

#dnd #d&d #Dungeons and Dragons

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ask-them-bois · 4 years

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What do you, the creator of this OC, like most about them? all ancestors!

Innocent: I love his simplicity. He went through so much, and could have become a monster because of it. He has every right to be furious about what happened to him. He deserved none of it, and it only happened because he was born the ‘wrong color’. He could have let it hurt him. He could have internalized all they said, in the wrong way. But he didn’t. Maybe it was because of the power in his blood. Maybe it was his upbringing. Maybe it was his compassion for his morails. Maybe it was all of it, but it saved him. He ran with wolves, he learned what it means to be a family, to keep others safe and alive. Even when wolves fight, they will still hunt and sleep together. If his wolves could do that, why couldn’t other trolls? That’s all he wants. He just wants the world to sleep together. To play and hunt together. They’re all trolls, why must they divide themselves because of their physicalities? He just wants simplicity, quiet, and peace. He finds it in his books, morning coffee, and minimalism.

Incoding: On the opposite end of the scale to Innocent, there’s Incoding. He went through bullshit upon bullshit, lost limbs and his eye. And instead of letting it go, like his limeblooded palemate, he held onto it. For a while, he was nothing without his rage. He held it, harbored it, nurtured it. But he never directed it on those who didn’t deserve it. He’s as punk as punk can get. He’s got his honorable code, and he sticks to it like his life depends on it. He needs the noise of revolution to sleep, but when it gets too loud he can hide behind his friends and companions for safety. He’ll lay down his life for a stranger, just as he would for a quadmate. His impact in the fight may be small, but he makes it count as much as possible. He may not be a soldier of the fleet, but he’s a warrior in his own right.

Ruthless: Hooo boy. Ruthless... what I love about him is his whole attitude of ‘fuck it’. FUCK IT! His mate died, he had to abandon his son, he left behind everything that made him who he was for the sake of two lowbloods, was hunted by a madman, and still. Gleaned so little from it. And he went FUCK IT! If this was his life, then fine! He’s been beaten down, driven to his knees, but he makes himself rise. If his legs are cut off, he’ll drag himself forward. He doesn’t want this life, and he lets himself be miserable about it sometimes. He drowns himself in drinks, but he’s got gills; he can’t drown. It all just gets taken in. So he gets back up the next day. And the next. He’s miserable, scared, and heartbroken, but there are people who need him, depend on him, and would miss him. So he gets back up.

Hounding: My biggest bastard. I love that he’s at least true to himself. He’s a murderer, a monster, and a villain. And he knows that. He embraces it. It’s what he’s good at! He feels important, like he’s doing the right thing, even if it seems wrong to everyone else. He has a rage he can’t contain, a strength that is unchecked, and a stamina that is unmatched. He uses all three to his advantage. YES, it’s ridiculous that he’s killed thousands. YES, he’s overpowered. YES, he is hated and feared. But he worked for it! He had a goal and stuck to it! He trained his whole life, how could he NOT enjoy the fruits of his labor? He was only cut down in a goddamn war, when it was him against a thousand. He’s not just a sellsword, he’s a goddamn motherfucking assassin.

Decaying: I love Decaying’s... mentality. Or lack there of? I don’t know how to explain it. He can’t explain it either. He was cut down by Hounding, bludgeoned to death, and he lost much of his memories because of it. Okay. People lose memories. That can be recovered, retaught, or healed from. Except, when he was wandering lost and confused, he saw things he shouldn’t have. He peered behind the 4th wall, and lost what scraps of mentality remained. He’s seen everything that will happen, has happened, and every possibility. Couple that with his interest. his borderline obsession, with conspiracy theories, and you’ve got.... a rotting mentality. A Decaying Mind. He still knows things, and remembers them sometimes, but there’s a disconnect from his mind, consciousness, and mouth. What comes out is not what he’s thinking. Musrio has met gods untold, but Decaying has seen the building blocks those gods play with.

Bluegill: Unlike Ruthless, Bluegill is not a man who fell from grace. He jumped. Without the responsibility of caring for Arrach, he was allowed to set out after his own dreams. And he got them! He was a successful musician, with several albums, awards, and tours under his belt. He thought he’d managed to leave his old life behind. But Arrach reappeared, and asked him home. There was only one reason Arrach would ask that. Arrach didn’t care for him, why now would he want his caretaker? Because Bluegill was, despite all his success, he was still a mutant. He only had the protection of the church when he was taking care of Arrach. And now he’d become something other mutants, even lowbloods, could look up to. Bluegill, in his own, insignificant way, was giving people hope. So Arrach cut him down. Bluegill knew what he was going home to. He knew it would end that way. He accepted it. As his own gun was turned on him, his own bullet ripping through his chest, he smiled. Because it was still his kid that did him in. Despite all his success, he still got to see his kid again. He loved, and still loves, Arrach, even though the purple cares not for him. But is that even true? His words may have been a lie. He volunteered to take his old man down, so some no body wouldn’t get to him first, and make him hurt. Bluegill coddled him, tended to him, raised him and loved him. It’s impossible that none of that affected the monstrous troll.

Survivor: Survivor is to Innocent as Neville Longbottom is to Harry Potter. He could have been the one who ran for his life. He could have been the one killed for his existence. He could have been the Innocent. But by some small thing, he wasn’t. He fought for his life in the depths and darkness, while Innocent fled, looking for the light. Survivor’s naivety and innocence was not born of a misunderstanding in his place in the world. He knows his place, and he quietly lays in it. No, it was born form no one teaching him he had another choice. He was born and raised to serve. Ruthless and Lucina made sure that wasn’t the case. They taught him to smile, to sail, and be happy. They didn’t teach him that bad things can take that happiness away. He had to learn that on his own, and from that was birthed his pain. He can’t even be angry about it, because genetic intervention took that away. A thousand years is a long time, and he had all that time to think, to delve deep into the cracks of his own psych, and understand who and what he is.

#anonymous #ask #ooc answer #the innocent #the incoding #ruthless deepbite #the survivor #the hounding #bluegill #the decaying #long post

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jennacolemans · 5 years

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The Man in the High Castle - Character Bios from Amazon’s X-ray feature - requested by anonymous

John Smith

John Smith was born in Manhattan in 1917, the second son of a prosperous Wall Street Banker. In many ways, John's early life looked picture perfect. Any hint of superiority, however, was tempered by his father, who instilled a deep sense of civic duty and propriety in his sons. The boys were four years apart in age. John looked up to older brother Chris, a star athlete and an A-student, following in suit. In 1927, when John was 11, Chris collapsed and was soon wheelchair bound. In March, 1929, The Wall Street Crash struck, and overnight American banking institutions folded. John's father was financially ruined and promptly took his own life. And so, at 13 years old, John Smith swore to himself that he would never allow himself to break. Even when his beloved brother passed away, two years later, John Smith pressed on. Despite witnessing a New York City that had become decrepit and corrupt, and a failing America that had been gutted once more by the 1933 assassination of President Franklin D. Roosevelt, John was still determined and still a patriot. He earned a degree at Princeton, he joined the New York Mayor's office, implementing programs to get America back to work, and, when war loomed, he signed up for officer training at West Point. where he proved a natural solder and tactician. Graduating to a post within the US Signal Corps. By 1942. John Smith was a 1st Lieutenant. In 1943, he was promoted to Captain and re-deployed to the Pentagon to advise all branches of the military on intelligence gathering. During this time, he met and married Helen McCrae, the beautiful, accomplished daughter of two Harvard academics. Helen became pregnant with their first child in July, 1945. Just a few months later, the American government fell to the New Reich. Smith saw surrender as the right thing to do. America had lost. Nothing in the US arsenal could compete with Nazi nuclear power. So, John Smith assimilated into the interim government, in sincere hope he could lessen the brutality of Nazi retaliation against rebel uprisings. He could save American lives. He could keep those he loved safe. Nazism is survival.

Wyatt Price

Wyatt Price is the alias of an Irishman who fled Nazi Europe in 1944 to seek refuge in unconquered North America. Though Ireland had remained neutral at the outset of The War, large numbers of Irishmen had been called to fight and more took to the front after nearly 400000 British soldiers were killed or otherwise defeated at the beachhead in Dunkirk, France in 1940. In September of that year, British Prime Minister Winston Churchill was killed in a German air raid, and the war raged on. Young Liam had been away from home for a year, fighting for the British Army. In January, 1942, the British Government fell to the Reich. England was occupied, but fierce resistance continued in Wales and Scotland for two more years. In 1944, the remnants of the British Isles were finally conquered. When Ireland capitulated to German rule, Irish men and women left the mainland In droves, pushing off the coasts by night, bound for the Americas. Young Liam was among those who fled. In America, Liam became Wyatt Price. He had seen his fair share of horrors back in Europe. He had lost almost his entire family, and wanted to start anew. But war was encroaching on North America as well, and in 1945 Germany took the continent, dropping the A-Bomb on the capital. For two years, Wyatt fought in the Rebel American War. By 1947, badly beaten, and starved of resources, the resistance was forced underground. Wyatt's surviving network spread out. Some military comrades stayed on the East Coast in the Greater Nazi Reich, while others dispersed to the Neutral Zone in the former American heartland, where 'freedom' became simply another word for ‘lawlessness’. It was in this wild, neutral territory that Wyatt established himself. He became known as a shrewd, resourceful fixer. He was depended on by many, but trusted no one. He never spoke of the past, he never told anyone his real name. He shrouded himself in secrecy and misinformation. He could smuggle anything, obtain official-looking documents; it was impossible to know whose side he was on. And Wyatt liked it that way. It was the best way to stay alive while doing so-called dirty work. He had long abandoned the fight for liberty and justice in this world. He resigned himself to mating for justice in the next one.

Juliana Crain

Juliana has a tendency for deep introspection and even depression - a result of her father's death, which cast a shadow over her life. She was 10 and her sister Trudy nearly 3 when the A bomb fell on Washington, D.C. Within days, the American government had surrendered. Intense resistance followed and life became hard for white Californians. The Japanese occupation was brutally enforced. White people were denied ownership of major businesses. Anyone not bowing to a Japanese citizen in the street was shot dead. By the time Juliana completed high school, the San Francisco where she was born was unrecognizable. But, despite the horrors, many things about Japanese culture fascinated Juliana - its orderliness, beauty, food, and subtle philosophy. She persuaded a Japanese Dojo to take her on as an Aikido student and found she had a talent for the martial art and its focus on energy, poise, and balance. Nevertheless, the atmosphere of oppression and obedience in the JPS was draining. Over the years Juliana's depressions deepened until, one day, she stepped in front of a bus, determined to set herself free. Death, however, was not In store for Juliana Crain. Instead, she found herself injured and in the arms of a young passerby, Frank Fink. Over the course of her recovery, the two established a strong bond that became a deep love. But as she began to settle into a life with Frank, a restless searching began to rise once more within her. On the night she witnessed her sister Trudy's execution at the hands of the Kempeitai, Juliana Crain stepped once more into the unknown, this time to answer the call of a transcendent force, somewhat akin to destiny.

Takeshi Kido

Takeshi Kido was born in 1917 in the town of Koriyama, Japan. The son of a tenant farmer, Kido was the fourth of eight children. Theirs was a hard life with no prospects for improvement, of backbreaking work, and unpredictable, often swift, death. In 1930, a 13-year-old Kido took the intelligence test given to 15-year-old prospective students for the Japanese Intelligence Service and scored off the charts. In 1932, he ran away from home to join the Army and was recruited into the Kempeitai — the highly respected Japanese military police and intelligence force. Kido excelled not just because of intellect but because of his strength of will and unyielding sense of patriotic duty. His drive to succeed was unmatched. Orders that might give others pause had no effect on the young officer. Kid0 was serving in Manchuria when the Japanese army invades deeper into China in 1937. The infamous Rape of Nanking occurred during this campaign, and Kido was confronted with a level of brutality he had never before imagined. Such horrors left an indelible mark on him. In the intervening years, Kido became a seasoned officer, serving honorably across many bloody campaigns. He witnessed many horrors including the Rape of Nanking and, later, the carnage of the Solomon Islands offensives, which claimed the lives of many American and Japanese troops. Having risen In the Japanese societal hierarchy, Kido took a wife in 1950. He would father two children with his bride, but the family was divided by Kido's duty to the Empire. Kido took up a post in the Japanese Pacific States of America in 1952. In 1957, he was promoted to Chief Inspector of the Kempeitai, one of the most senior positions in the JPS, and by 1962, the year he shot and killed a young rebel by the name of Trudy Walker, Kido had spent five years crushing American resistance firmly under his boot and almost seventeen years away from mainland Japan, a place he would never again call home.

Joe Blake

Joe believed he was born in Brooklyn in 1938, the single child of a single, German mother who claimed Joe's German father abandoned them before he was born. When the A-bomb dropped on Washington. D.C. the Nazis assumed power, and, by 1950, the American Reich was firmly established. But young Joe Blake was never totally certain who he was or what he wanted to be. He still wanted to hide his mother's German-ness. Most of all, he never felt worthy of an absent father's love. This confusion and shame came out in a rebellious streak. Joe stole a car at age 15 and, at the police station, he heard his mother tell a desk sergeant about what an important man his father was, back in Berlin. Later that day, he received a visitor - a GNR colonel named John Smith, who offered him a ride home. Joe's run In with Smith helped him turn a corner. He got an apprenticeship in construction, did a year of mandatory military service and signed up to the Corps of Engineers. He was a charming young than who kept intimacies at a distance. He did honest work for an honest Mark. His mother died of Septicemia when he was 21 years old, and Joe buried his grief along with her. That muted sadness turned into a silent rage at their poverty, at their abandonment by his father, a man he longed to have known. Two years later, John Smith - now Obergruppenführer - re-appeared In Joe's life. Smith had a Job for him if he was willing to commit. Joe didn't care about the Reich or duty to his country but Smith fascinated Joe and so did the prospect of finding out more about his elusive father. Joe agreed to Smith's terms for he had nothing to lose.

Nicole Dörmer

Nicole was born to a pretty, young ward of the Lebensborn nursery where every aspect of her upbringing was designed to indoctrinate her and her Lebensborn fellows. One of Nicole’s earliest memories was a visit by Himmler to the orphanage. Nicole was only four and already a starling beauty. She as chosen to hand Himmler a bouquet and sing a patriotic song. Himmler raised her in his arms and kissed her cheeks, telling Nicole that he was her father. Then, in the spring of 1944, Otto Dörmer, Nicole’s real, biological father arrived. Young Nicole was taken to Dörmer’s grand family home in Potsdam, where she had the run of the mansion. By 1944, the Lebensborn program was being phased out by the Reich; thusly, its products were becoming more and more valuable. Private schools vied for the privilege of taking Nicole and her comrades. With their privileged status, the Lebensborn children often found they could get away with behaviors or attitudes that would have placed other citizens in danger. They illicitly collected Jazz, read banned books, and made mildly critical observations of about the state. But despite this rebelliousness, they were proud believers in the clear superiority of the Nazi regime. Nicole traveled the world before college. She dined at all the fashionable restaurants and attended all the best parties, plays and film galas. Fascinated by the media as an instrument of State Control, she enrolled at the Brandenburg Studios Propaganda Arts course and dropped out after four semesters, bored by the conventionalism. She experimented with LSD and had liaisons with both men and women in an attempt to free herself from conventional norms. In 1960, at age 21, Nicole was expected to find a husband, but she wanted a career, she wanted to be noticed, and she wanted to make a difference. Later that year, she was arrested under suspicion of publishing a seditious pamphlet. Upon release, she was cowed but far from broken. It was a wake-up call that she was not immune from harm and that she shouldn't be foolishly outspoken. But in other ways, it made her even more determined to challenge the received wisdom of the "fossils" in power.

Robert Childan

Robert Childan was born in San Francisco in 1919. He was an only child and the apple of his mother's eye. Robert's father was a stern and emotionally closed man who ran a kitchen and housewares business. Robert was 10 when the Great Depression hit and his father's enterprise went bust. The family moved into a small downtown San Francisco apartment and lived in the midst of Mrs. Childan's sprawling book collection. After college, Robert got a junior curator position at the San Francisco Museum of Art and managed to avoid going to war after a mild cardiac arrhythmia was detected during his medical examination. In 1942, Robert's father died, and, in 1945, his mother passed away too, just before the Germans dropped the A-bomb. As Japan began its occupation of San Francisco, Robert realized he'd need to adapt quickly or he'd likely wind up dead or arrested. His resourcefulness ultimately led him to the idea of starting a bookstore using his mother's collection as initial inventory. The white-collar jobs Robert was suited for were not open to him in the San Francisco of the JPS, but Japanese hunger for Americana and curiosity about American literature was taking hold all over the city. He knew he could exploit this. Robert began to buy up old heirlooms and American antiques. Very soon sales of American object's d'art outstripped book sales. His livelihood depended upon a growing Japanese client base. Over the years, he grew to admire the distinctive and aloof cultural superiority of his patrons and envied their grace and beauty. He was becoming part of a new class of 'Nippophile' aesthetes, an inevitable side effect of Japan's cultural imperialism in California. But, deep down, Robert resented those he seemed to adore.

Edward McCarthy

Edward was born in Oakland in 1934 to proud second-generation Irish Americans. His father had grown up in the Bay area, inheriting a small metalworking factory from Ed's grandfather. After his family moved into a modest townhouse near the factory, Ed met and quickly befriended his neighbor, Frank Frink. The war with Japan began in April 1941 and many factory workers signed up, leaving wives and daughters to keep factory production lines moving. Ed spent a lot of time there; he loved the smell, sound and vitality. In July 1944, when Ed and Frank were 10 years old, the war with Japan arrived on America's doorstep. Planes swooped down on San Francisco to unleash their bombs. The family survived the raid, but later that year, the Japanese dropped Chlorine explosives on the city, leaving Ed poisoned and on the edge of dying. Ed's mother perished in the attack. At the hospital, Ed spent many hours alone, in pain and in fear. With this isolation and suffering came an extraordinary strength of resilience to endure. And though he did not recognize it as a boy, he felt a deep love towards Frank who came to visit him every day for months. It was a bond of affection that would be a guiding light for the rest of his life. By 1946, Ed would need this kinship for survival. The Bomb had been dropped on Washington, the factory had been taken over by the Japanese, and Ed's father had been dragged into the factory courtyard, forced to his knees and shot in front of all the workers; Ed went to live with his grandparents. Churches closed, St. Patrick's Day was banned, and San Francisco filled with waifs and strays fleeing the Nazis in the East and migrant workers from the Japanese Empire in Asia. But Ed never hated the Japanese; he hated war and violence and brutality. Ed's deepest reaction to loss was always to love. This was his gift.

Frank Frink

Frank was born in 1934, his older sister had been born two years earlier. After the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor in April, 1941, Frank and his sister went to live with their grandmother. They worked jobs after school, cooked, cleaned and helped to pay the bills with what meager funds they could scrape together. Their father died on the front lines in 1943, fighting the Japanese, and five years later, their mother passed away too. It was around this time that Frank's best friend's father was shot dead in the courtyard of his metalworking factory by Japanese occupiers who had come to take over. Frank and his friend, Ed, were bonded in unspoken shared pain. At age 16, Frank got a job at the factory where he helped craft handguns for the Japanese market. Frank's first passion had always been art; drawing and painting had been a way for his mind to escape. Unfortunately, there was little appreciation or legitimate outlet for Frank's gifts. One morning, on the way to the factory, Frank was shocked to see a beautiful young woman purposely step into the street in front of an oncoming bus. It was Juliana Crain. The two moved in together shortly after Juliana got out of hospital and began a life together. They were happy, for a time. But, as much as Frank and Juliana loved each other, a series of tragedies and shocking experiences would set them on very different paths. Frank supported Juliana as she committed herself to a purpose he couldn't fully understand, making the best of a bad situation, until finally, they parted. The young artist also fell victim to the encroachment of racial purity laws on the JPS and Frank Frink, once passive and resigned, found himself consumed by hatred for the leader of the Kempeitai who cruelly and capriciously enforced the laws of the Reich.

Helen Smith

Helen was born in Boston in January 1922 to parents who were academics. Helen was being raised to think for herself and challenge conventional wisdom. After the Great Depression hit in 1929, she witnessed deep poverty and hunger in addition to the birth of a fierce political environment, which helped incite the assassination of President Roosevelt in 1933. With Stalin's rise in the Soviet Union and Hitler's imposition of Fascism in Germany, it seemed to young Helen that America was itself on the brink of totalitarian take over. And why not? If it got America working again. In 1940, Helen went to study at the prestigious NYU School of Commerce, Accounts and Finance and, in 1941, after the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor, she dropped out to volunteer as a secretary in the New York War Office. Then, in June, 1943, Helen's life changed again. A young Captain, named John Smith, came to City Hall to set up an intelligence bureau. He and Helen became friends, then lovers. A year later, they were married in a modest ceremony, just before John left to fight in the war raging in the Pacific. Every day, Helen dreaded bad news from the front. But in 1945, Helen discovered she was pregnant; this good news was accompanied by word that her husband was to take up a permanent post at the Pentagon. The couple shipped their belongings to Washington, D.C. and drove down from New York together, stopping for the night, just outside of the city. That night, the Nazis dropped the Heisenberg device on Washington; overnight, the world changed. John Smith was a profoundly moral man who shared Helen's belief in a benevolent and supportive community. It seemed the only way towards that future would be to fully capitulate to Reich, avoiding potential nuclear annihilation. And so began Helen's embrace of the Nazi way of life. She wanted a safe world in which to raise her son, and eventually her daughters. Despite her parents' executions in 1949 at the hands of the GNR, she had made peace with the realities of Fascist America, the means and methods by which it was achieved, and was grateful for the benefits it brought her - if only for a time.

Nobusuke Tagomi

Tagomi was born in Tokyo in 1887, in the Meiji era - when Japan restored the Emperor and rapidly began to militarize and modernize. Tagomi's family was Samurai caste from the ruling elite, with close ties to the royal family. He and his younger brothers were raised from the cradle to understand that their life would be in service to the Japanese State. At age 11, Tagomi was sent away to Navy Cadet School. There he was schooled in English, French and German, served in the Japanese fleet for several years, and became a junior Naval Attaché. He soon realized his aptitude for diplomacy and negotiation was better suited to work in the Trade department and in 1916, he left the Navy for a position at the Japanese Trade Mission. Years later, in 1933, Tagomi met and wed the daughter of another elite Samurai family from Yokohama. He was 38 years old at the time. Their son, Yoshi, was born the following year, and, in many ways, this era was the happiest of Tagomi's life. Professionally, he continued to rise in stature, but clouds were gathering. Fascism in Germany, coupled with the emerging political influence of Major General Hideki Tojo, was an increasing threat. In 1939, the war in Europe began, and in 1940, Japan allied with Hitler. Tagomi became crucial to the war effort as Japan was challenged by lack of oil in its territories. He went on a series of trade missions to California to negotiate oil imports and was successful in his negotiations. The irony: US oil would fuel the conflicts that eventually defeated her. Despite much success, death was slowly closing in on Tagomi's loved ones. His brothers perished in the Pacific at the start of the war. After the family moved to San Francisco in 1947, so Tagomi could help set up a colonial administration, Yoshi joined the Japanese Imperial Army and died serving in Manchuria in 1952. Tagomi's wife returned to Tokyo, heartbroken, and succumbed to Pneumonia in 1953. Tagomi went into himself, seeking solace in meditation. There must be some purpose to this life. Some reason to the world. Could he find it, alone in San Francisco?

#the man in the high castle #tmithc #john smith #Helen Smith #Juliana Crain #joe blake #frank frink #wyatt price #inspector kido #nobusuke tagomi #nicole dörmer #ed mccarthy #robert childan

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zirroxas · 5 years

Text

So I Found All the Characters With Unique Backstories

Spent some time rooting around in the files to figure out which characters the game actually gave unique background descriptions to. There’s 94 in total. There’s something around 750 historical characters in the game, but only these comes with unique backstories.

Some of them are quite hilarious.

cai mao -- Competent Sailor -- "Cai Mao is adept of naval combat, and a budding admiral." cao ang -- Prince Min -- "Cao Ang's fate is to one day be prince of the House of Cao, be it in life or in death." cao cao -- Strategic Mastermind -- "The wily Cao Cao sees opportunity in the hardships of others, skewing things to his advantage." cao pi -- Political Animal -- "In war, you can only be killed once, but in politics, many times.""""" cao ren -- Brave Hunter -- "The skills of a fearless outdoorsman --horse-riding, archery, and hunting --make Cao Ren a valued battlefield ally." chen gong -- Master Magistrate -- "Chen Gong knows that even great men are imperfect, and righteousness is often not immediately obvious." cheng pu -- Bandit Killer -- 'The General of the Household Who Defeats Bandits' is living proof that bravery can overcome adversity. dian wei -- Brute of Unmatched Power -- "Such prowess! This is old Elai again!""""" dong zhuo -- Cruel Tyrant -- "Consumed by his hunger for power, Dong Zhuo's despotism knows no bounds." fa zheng -- Vindictive Strategist -- "The intelligent and vengeful Fa Zheng should not be crossed, lest you become the target of his deadly schemes." gan ning -- Pirate of the Bells -- "Cao Cao may have Zhang Liao, but I have Gan Ning! Thus we are evenly matched.""""" gao gan -- Loyal Nephew -- "Ever the rebel, Gao Gan's true allegiances shall only die when he does." gong du -- Master of the Land -- "Far from being just a heartless bandit, Gong Du is a principled soldier of honour." gongsun du -- the Warlike -- "In war, Gongsun Du does what is required of him; he revels in bloodshed and conquest." gongsun zan -- The Iron Fist General -- "Defence of the frontiers requires more than just the resources of a warlord, but also a merciless attitude." guan yu -- God of War -- "A famed warrior and righteous slayer of all who dare oppose him, Guan Yu's deification is already assured." guo jia -- Astute Advisor -- Guo Jia is a confidant of unparalleled foresight --to ignore his counsel is to invite failure and defeat. han fu -- Diligent Agriculturalist -- "Using his ability to manage food supplies with tireless efficiency, Han Fu is a most valuable logistician." han sui -- Tireless Insurgent -- "Insurrection is in Han Sui's blood. To him, subservience cannot be permanent." he man -- The Most Powerful -- "I am He Man, the devil who shoots across the sky! Who dares challenge me\?""""" he yi -- Leader of the People -- "With unwavering faith, He Yi inspires others to follow in his righteous footsteps." hua xiong -- Fierce Beast -- "With a head shaped like a leopard's and ape-like shoulders, Hua Xiong's ferocity is matched by his appearance." huang gai -- Unreadable Warrior -- His outward demeanour belies his real allegiances --Huang Gai truly is the very definition of inscrutability. huang shao -- Wielder of the Heavenly Way -- "All uprisings, no matter how widespread, stand little chance of success without strong leadership." huang zhong -- of the Ageless Strength -- "The venerable Huang Zhong, to whom age is just a number, is frequently underestimated in battle." huang zu -- Ranged Ambusher -- "Huang Zu likes to start offensives on the front foot, from a safe distance and out of sight." huangfu song -- Aged General -- "In the brutal business of war, there is no better teacher than experience." jia long -- Short-sighted Peacekeeper -- "Jia Long may dedicate much time to forethought, yet still lacks caution now and then." jia xu -- The Blade in the Dark -- Decisions made in secret can have the deadliest outcomes. jiang wei -- Budding Commander -- "Known for being an expert general despite his inexperience, Jiang Wei has a precocious talent for war." kong rong -- Master Scholar -- "Kong Rong claims descent from the great Confucius himself, attested to by his remarkable wit and scholarly fame." kong zhou -- Pure Conversationalist -- "A master at the art of Qingtan, Kong Zhou utilises discussion and debate as a means of intellectual self-improvement." lady sun -- The Rising Sun -- "As surely as the sun rises, the Lady will always endeavour to get her way." li ru -- Vicious Shadow -- Behind every despot's schemes is the intellect of a consummate strategist. ling tong -- Daring Errant -- "For some men, war is a chance to prove one's self and seek adventure." liu bei -- Virtuous Idealist -- "Despite having come from modest beginnings, the blood of ancient Han emperors flows through Liu Bei's veins." liu biao -- Gentleman of the Han -- "A man seldom ruffled, Liu Biao demonstrates his aristocratic pedigree through stable officiality." liu dai -- Generous Attendant -- "In spite of the harsh realities of palace life, Liu Dai conducts himself according to his nature: with kindness and benevolence." liu xie -- Former Emperor -- "While no longer leading their people, they still strive to bring peace to the land." liu yan -- Opportunistic Ruler -- "Some men just want to watch the world burn, while others use the opportunities placed before them." liu yao -- Welcoming Magistrate -- "Liu Yao appears to be a 'yes' man, but is nevertheless known for his staunch incorruptibility." liu yu -- Prosperous Trader -- Liu Yu's rapport with foreigners and minorities has enabled him to amass considerable wealth from trade. liu zhang -- Proponent of Peace -- "A timid and suspicious noble, Liu Zhang displays a willingness to avoid war, even if that means surrender." lu bu -- Warrior Without Equal -- "With unpredictable loyalty and unsurpassed martial skill, Lü Bu is the most dangerous warrior beneath the heavens." lu fan -- Go Master -- Go is not just an abstract game of strategy --it is a measure of one's aptitude in tactical forethought. lu meng -- Late Scholar -- "Despite becoming literate late on in his career, Lü Meng has proved himself a most able scholar." lu su -- Charitable Envoy -- "Ever the philanthropic diplomat, Lu Su's affluence empowers his charitable nature." lu xun -- Scholar General -- "Equal parts brains and brawn, Lu Xun can oversee both civil and military matters." ma chao -- Most-brilliant Warrior -- "With a complexion like jade and eyes like shooting stars, Ma Chao is a warrior truly brilliant in appearance." ma dai -- Fraternal Warrior -- There are few things more important to Ma Dai than bloodline and family. ma teng -- Protector of the West -- "Ma Teng may treat his friends well, but he remains merciless with the Han's enemies." mi zhu -- Dependable Administrator -- "In these interesting times of fluctuating allegiances, the steadfast loyalty of Mi Zhu can always be relied upon." pang de -- White Horse General -- "Pang De is an unrelenting force, whose avowed enemies know they must face him sooner or later." pang tong -- Fledgling Phoenix -- "Having risen from the ashes of obscurity, the 'Crown of Learned Men' is an advisor of the highest esteem." pei yuanshao -- Virtuous Outrider -- "Whether in charge of brigands or soldiers, one must lead by example, always riding at the head of the host." shi xie -- King Shi -- "With his long and distinguished record of sophisticated service, Shi Xie is destined for stately eminence." sima yi -- Silver Eminence -- "If you cannot fight, defend. If you cannot defend, flee. If you cannot flee, surrender. If you cannot surrender, die!""""" sun ce -- The Little Conqueror -- "Sun Ce has been likened to the warrior-kings of old, with an aptitude for military leadership that belies his youth." sun jian -- Tiger of Jiangdong -- "Claiming ancestry with the renowned military strategist Sun Tzu, the fearless Sun Jian has war flowing through his veins." sun qian -- Upstanding Loyalist -- Sun Qian's word is an unwavering bond. sun quan -- Emerald-eyed Administrator -- "Striking looks and a sturdy frame betokens Sun Quan's great nobility, heroism and longevity." taishi ci -- of Exceptional Dexterity -- "From horse-riding to archery, Taishi Ci excels in all manner of physical pursuits." tao qian -- of the Sincere Jurisdiction -- "Tao Qian may be a highly influential and ambitious figure, but expansionism is not on his personal agenda." wang lang -- Ardent Educator -- "A keen imparter of knowledge, even when it is neither wanted nor welcome." wang xiu -- The Righteous Hero -- "Never can it be said that Wang Xiu was ever disloyal, dishonourable or unwilling to come to the aid of those he serves." wei yan -- Disobedient Tiger -- "For the distrustful Wei Yan, a violent betrayal always simmers below the surface." wen chou -- Fierce Firebrand -- "If only Wen Chou were here, I'd have nothing to fear!""""" xiahou dun -- Hotheaded Officer -- Those who know Xiahou Dun know not to get on his bad side. xiahou dun 2 -- The One-eyed Exile -- "You really don't want to know what he did with his eye after losing it to that arrow...""""" xiahou yuan -- Maker of Ways -- "When it comes to military logistics, where there's a will, Xiahou Yuan has a way." xu chu -- Tiger Fool -- "Xu Chu is a man of simple thoughts and principles, but an impressive warrior who fights with a bestial rage." xu huang -- Guardian of the Gates -- "When assigned to guardianship, Xu Huang is an immovable sentinel, requiring a tremendous effort to bypass." xu shu -- Disguised Diplomat -- "His body may be in one place, but his heart is in quite another." xun you -- Gentleman Attendant -- "A member of the learned scholar-gentry, Xun You is a profound thinker of great insight." xun yu -- Hegemon's Aide -- "Here comes my Zifang!""""" yan liang -- Valiant Vanguard -- "A foremost general of considerable military prowess, the gutsy Yan Liang is unmatched among ordinary warriors." yu jin -- Enforcer of the Law -- "As an imperious, by-the-book disciplinarian, Yu Jin rules his subordinates with fear and drilled-in obedience." yuan shao -- Preeminent Commander -- "Yuan Shao's astuteness, dignity and arrogance are the mark of his ancestors, many of whom served emperors past." yuan shu -- Ambitious Powermonger -- Yuan Shu is an ambitious but overconfident individual --time will tell whether such qualities shall trip him or aid his desires. yue jin -- The Lion of Yangping -- "What Yue Jin lacks in stature he makes up for in fierceness, fearlessness, and deadliness with his bow." zhang chao -- Flowing Calligrapher -- Such graceful skills with ink and brush are the mark a man of great education and scholarly puissance. zhang fei -- Drunken Brawler -- "Hold my wine...""""" zhang he -- Courageous General -- Zhang He's fearlessness enables him to retain his composure when having to adapt to unfavourable situations. zhang kai -- Slayer of Tyrants -- "The unjust rulers of the old regime shall perish.""""" zhang liao -- The Heavenly Dragon General -- "The model of professionalism and organisation, Zhang Liao has heavenly leadership skills." zhang lu -- Celestial Master -- "Just as water penetrates mountains, Zhang Lu always seeks to overcome hardness by his own accord." zhang yan -- King of Black Mountain -- "With his scores of followers, the bandit leader known as 'Flying Swallow' wields the influence of a king." zhang yang -- Ignored Warlord -- What is the fate of he who is forsaken and unjustly distrusted by his fellow warlords\? Only heaven knows. zhao yun -- Light in the Dark -- "In the darkest times of war, the auras of the most resplendent warriors gleam brightest." zheng jiang -- Bandit Queen -- "Hell-bent on plunder, Zheng Jiang goes to unspeakable lengths to obtain her loot." zhou tai -- Man of Many Scars -- "His scar-riddled skin is a canvas of stories, telling of countless bloody battles past." zhou yu -- Melodic Strategist -- "If there is a mistake in the tune, Zhou Yu will look up.""""" zhuge jin -- Bookish Scholar -- "Having studied history and poetry in years past, Zhuge Jin is a man who appreciates scholarship." zhuge liang -- Sleeping Dragon -- "A peerless genius and insightful strategist, there are few situations that Zhuge Liang's astute intellect cannot overcome."

#total war #Total War: Three Kingdoms

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jikook-love · 6 years

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love stall (pt.1)

jungkook x jimin | hogwarts au | words: ?

gryffindor!jungkook x slytherin!jimin

Young wizard Jeon Jungkook had somehow become the ideal role model for all Gryffindors by his fifth year at Hogwarts: a charming and attractive personality, the best dueller of his year, captain of the Quidditch team and the best at trespassing into places he shouldn’t be without getting caught. But even the Gryffindor poster boy holds a shameful secret, a secret that would utterly shatter his reputation should it ever come out:

He had fallen in love with a Slytherin.

Blood pulsed through his ears. The chants were becoming louder and louder, gradually reaching an empowering crescendo.

“Go Go Gryffindor! Go Go Gryffindor!”

He squeezed his eyes shut for a fleeting moment, for that was all he had. The red Quaffle was in his hands, and the goal was hovering in distance, so close yet so far. This was it. Score this and the game would be over regardless of who caught the Snitch (unless the opposing team got another goal in afterwards which was highly unlikely considering their mental state). It was all up to him.

They were already starting to gain upon him, he ought to have felt incomparable pressure. But no.

After all, he was Jeon Jungkook, Captain of the red and gold Quidditch team.

And Gryffindor’s pride.

In a mad dash, Jungkook let out a cry as he pushed forth on his broom, the traditional Firebolt. It was a broom that had been world-class competition standard in its prime, but had since been worn out through the test of time. Regardless, it was still a reliable and solid piece of equipment--and more importantly it was the same class of broom that the legendary Harry Potter had once mounted, which made it all the more suitable for someone like Jungkook.

He heard the familiar screams and cheers as he whizzed across the stadium, his speed unmatched by anyone else on the pit. Usually, it was often the Seeker who was praised for their flying abilities, but Jungkook flew in a way that outshone them all. In fact, despite his remarkable flying techniques, the coach found him more suited to be a Chaser due to his equally impressive strength and reflexes. The way he handled his broom and flying patterns was almost theatrical, a show of speed and agility, unrivalled by anyone else in their generation.

Sweat beaded from his forehead as Jungkook headed straight for the goal posts. It was a one-man show now, and despite that there were two other Chasers on the team, it could only be him who could finish this.

In the corner of his eye, he noticed a Bludger headed towards him at full speed. Anyone else would’ve been hindered at once, as the the offending ball travelled at a much higher speed than their broomsticks at full power. But Jungkook was quicker than that. He quickly arched his back, sliding under the Bludger and using his agile body to avoid what his broom couldn’t. The crowd roared in excitement, realizing the goal was now quite in reach.

Jungkook grinned in anticipation. If he did this properly, the game was theirs, and nothing could possibly stop them. This was it, they would win yet another game, the first win for Gryffindors for this year. He watched in pity as the Keeper was desperately doing Double Eight Loops around the ring as fast as she could, but it was all futile, because he was much faster and his keen eyes could detect her exact trajectory.

And...now!

The crowd went wild as Jungkook suddenly stood up on his broom, ready for the final blow. All he could see was the goal post in front of him.

“OH MY GOD! IT’S THE DIONYSUS DIVE! HE’S GONNA DO IT AGAIN! HIS SIGNATURE MOVE,” he heard the announcer declare loudly and excitedly.

Jungkook’s eyes glinted, he reeled back to throw the red object that was about to become a bullet. Drawing back, ready to punch full force--

A flash of gold.

It all happened in a blur. In spur of the moment, he’d forgotten to watch out for the most unlikely scenario of them all. A sudden impact, as he inevitably collided with someone else. Quaffle falling from his hands as he was knocked completely off his broom.

He could only watch in horror, hands grappling at air as he saw the other team’s Keeper mercilessly seize the red ball, tossing it to her teammates. His own team had cleared out to make way for him, and had only realized their mistake now. But it was too late. Seconds later, a hopeful cheer erupted, indicating a goal.

He grimaced, realizing that that should be the least of his worries right now. He desperately tried to grab for his broom, which was just that much more than an arm’s reach away.

Closer...closer. He contemplated using his wand to retrieve the broom, but that would definitely forfeit the game for his entire team. Jungkook grimaced, deciding he would just get healed later, bracing for the worst as he plummeted towards the bottom of the pitch.

But the impact never came.

He opened his eyes, in shock as he realized that he was hovering barely centimetres above the sandy floor, perched upon another’s broomstick.

It wasn’t the expected red cloak he expected to see--deep green fabric fluttered in the air.

Jungkook turned to his saviour in surprise. “Oh my god. Thank yo--”

He was suddenly dumped into the ground, plummeting face first into the sand right next to his broom. He caught a glimpse of a wisp of blonde hair before his former saviour hovered tauntingly above him.

“You won’t be thanking me in a bit.”

And then his saviour was gone, gaining incredible altitudes at an impressive speed. Jungkook didn’t have time to contemplate.

That game hasn’t been called. That means the Snitch hasn’t been caught yet so...

He quickly climbed back on his broom and rushed back up to the top, desperately wanting to regain his pride. He could still do this. It would just mean two goals instead of one, he could easily--

The sounding whistle.

His heart sank in his chest, a dreading feeling coursing through his veins. There was a silence spreading throughout the stadium, as if something completely unexpected had occurred.

He desperately, quickly flew to the top, wanting to see what the result was for himself.

“Oh my god,” one of the announcers said. “Unbelievable. No way in fu--”

“Oh no, he went and done it!” the other one interrupted before any profanities could be uttered. “The Plumpton Pass! Haven’t seen that one in awhile. A snarky one this new seeker is!”

Plumpton Pass. The one where the Seeker hides the Snitch in his sleeve to confuse the opposing team? But why now of all times--

He froze, the explanation becoming thoroughly evident. A wave of blonde hair caught his eyes, right in the dead centre of the pitch.

Mostly because the light shade of hair, that was now certainly burned into his memory, so well complimented by the Golden Snitch he had clutched in his right hand and displayed for the slowly recovering crowd to see.

Jungkook couldn’t believe what had happened. He--the soul and pride of his generation of Gryffindors--had been absolutely outwitted and beaten. In the worst way possible.

By a Slytherin.

“Well, would you look at that?” The grin was inevitable in the announcer’s voice. “It looks like the new Slytherin Seeker’s way better than we all thought.”

✧✧✧

Jungkook slammed his broom down in frustration, unbuttoning his Quidditch attire in a fury as his friends followed him into the locker, concern written on their faces.

“Hey man, come on, you did great! Everyone knows that,” Jung Hoseok, sixth year Hufflepuff reassured. “You broke an insane amount of records that game, all on your own.”

“Dude, you’re crazy,” Kim Taehyung, also a sixth year Hufflepuff, was gawking. “You got over 100 points from Quaffles goals alone. No wonder people think you’re cheating.”

“Good thing he’s a Gryffindor,” Hoseok chortled. “Can you imagine if he was a Slytherin? The amount of inspections.”

“Good. Those snakes deserve it,” Taehyung muttered. “I’ll never forgive what they did to my toad.”

“What did they do to your toad?” Hoseok asked curiously. He quickly shook the thought out of his head. “Never mind. We should probably focus on Jungkook right now. The boy’s distraught.” The sixth year student patted Jungkook on the shoulder, who was still crouched over on a bench, face buried into his hands.

“Cut yourself some slack, bro,” Taehyung mumbled, sitting down beside him. “You’ve got to lose once or twice in your life. Otherwise people will think you’re some sort of monster.”

“Yeah, it’s not like any of us saw it coming,” Hoseok echoed. “I didn’t even notice there was a Seeker the entire game--he was so subtle.”

“That’s the point, Hoseok,” Jungkook pouted angrily, pulling on his regular school robes. “Usually no one else sees these things but I’m supposed to. I can’t believe I let him get away with that. It has to be the oldest trick in the book.”

“What? The little Snitch trick he did at the end?” asked Taehyung.

“No,” Jungkook frowned. “Blending into the environment and showing up only at the last second.”

“Well, on the bright side, it won’t happen again,” Hoseok shrugged. “People will be keeping eyes on him from now on as the new Slytherin seeker who managed to best Jeon Jungkook himself in a Quidditch game.” Hoseok’s smug smile quickly faded from his face when he noticed Taehyung shooting dirty looks at him, indicating that he was not helping in anyway whatsoever.

“A-anyways,” he quickly recovered. “Namjoon and Seokjin are waiting for us in Hogsmeade. Let’s go have some Butterbeer and take your mind off things, huh?”

“You guys go ahead,” Jungkook muttered without thinking much. Upon looking up and seeing their distraught expressions, he gave a sigh and quickly gave in.

“I’ll catch up later,” Jungkook promised instead. “You guys go get a table.” The comment managed to restore a slight sense of relief to their faces, and was enough to send them on their way.

Which Jungkook to sulk all on his own, which was something he hadn’t done in a long, long while. He hadn’t had such an absolutely demoralizing failure in a long while, not since he’d gotten to Hogwarts. Here, he had friends, and somehow, he was an exemplary example of anything he bothered to give the slightest effort into. People even looked up to him--naiively, of course. It’d be a long, long while since he’d experienced such a crushing feeling in his chest.

He could already see it: the cold, disappointed glances that he would inevitably receive upon returning to the Gryffindor Common Room. After their fervent cheering and unyielding faith in him, all he had given them in return was a disheartening loss. He didn’t know how he was going to face it.

As if waiting for the worst possible timing possible, the doors to the locker rooms suddenly burst open, revealing several windblown green capes. Jungkook looked up to see the members of the Slytherin Quidditch team, still decked out in full Quidditch uniforms and clutching their brooms with smug smiles on their faces.

Idiots, you guys couldn’t even block me once. If it weren’t for your Seeker...

“You’re the only one left?” one of them called out. “That’s a shame.”

“What? Came to gloat?” Jungkook spat back without hesitance. “They're all gone.”

“Well, I think you’re the only one we need to see, captain,” said the female Keeper from earlier. The way she dragged out the last word brought the nastiest goosebumps to his skin. “That’s what you get for underestimating us.”

Despite his insecurities, Jungkook still managed shrug and give them the coldest response:

“You let me score ten goals on your hoops,” Jungkook restated the facts. “And that was just me alone. It’s hard not to judge you guys after that.”

Their smiles were immediately replaced with angry scowls, and Jungkook couldn’t help but smirk to himself. It was amazing--he was feeling his lowest now, but he could still talk back to the Slytherins without a scuffle.

I am a Gryffindor, after all, Jungkook thought proudly to himself.

“Whatever, Jeon,” the girl crooned, her lips curling in disgust. “You and your pompous team still lost, and that’s the final verdict.”

“The scoreboard also says 170-160, a 10 point difference despite your team catching the Snitch, which is also a final verdict,” Jungkook pointed out. “How about you guys just go back to your gloomy dungeon and pretend you deserved the win there? At least there’s probably people there who would fulfill your delusions.”

He didn’t even bother watching their angered and frustrated expressions as they stormed out of the room, throwing swear words behind--he’d seen and heard all that one too many times.

“Pathetic,” Jungkook muttered to himself, shoving away his broom angrily.

“I’d be more careful with that if I were you. That looks expensive.”

Jungkook whirled around at the sound of the unfamiliar voice. He froze immediately, slightly jolted by who was standing in front of him.

He’d thought the entire team had left after his harsh words but it turned out he was wrong.

One person had remained.

The one person who could probably get to his head beyond anyone else on that team.

That shade of gold...

“Relax, will you?” the boy said, his voice much more melodic than Jungkook could ever imagine it to be, high toned and somewhat pleasant. He tilted his head, a teasing yet charming smile written on his lips. “I’m not here to pick a fight or anything.” Jungkook watched as the boy ran his fingers through his unusually silky blonde hair, fully revealing what was undoubtedly the face of the Seeker who’d bested him only minutes ago.

Jungkook found himself to be surprisingly obediently, as he body loosened immediately, his grasp removed from his wand.

“Why are you still here then?” Jungkook asked, annoyed. “To rub it in my face?”

“Maybe,” came the shameless answer.

Jungkook glared at him, before turning away again. Evidently the only way to truly fight those arrogant assholes was to ignore them.

“Look, I’m kidding,” the Seeker said suddenly, stepping closer as a gentler tone appeared in his voice. “Honestly, I came to offer my condolences. What I did was a bit...over the top and unnecessary, and I just wanted to let you know that I’m perfectly aware of that too.”

But Jungkook wasn’t so easily persuaded, the burning anguish from the loss still eating away at his heart. “Then why’d you do it in the first place?” he fired back, his voice filled with spite.

He watched, as a subtle, mysterious smirk appeared on the Seeker’s face.

“I couldn’t help it,” he said. “The once in a lifetime chance for a measly, faceless Slytherin like me to tarnish the reputation of the glorious Jeon Jungkook, the pride and trophy of the entire Gryffindor House...you don’t actually blame me, do you?”

Jungkook’s chest tightened threateningly upon hearing his casual yet piercing words.

“Don’t tell me you waited until that exact moment to catch the Snitch,” Jungkook spoke, his eyes widened.

His newfound rival shrugged, the mysterious smile so beguiling, almost dangerous.

“You’re so rude,” he said casually. “We all know so much about you yet you didn’t even bother to learn my name?”

“What--”

The boy took one step closer, offering an outstretched hand to Jungkook.

“Park Jimin,” he smiled brightly. “Nice to finally officially meet you.”

On impulse, Jungkook took his hand without thinking. Jimin’s grip was firm and convincing, and Jungkook saw a strange twinkle in his eyes that he hadn’t noticed before.

“Also...I’d tell you whether or not I’d planned it all along,” Jimin spoke slowly. “But you probably wouldn’t believe me either way.”

He let go of Jungkook’s hand, turning his back and heading for the door. For the first time in a long while, Jungkook was rendered completely speechless.

But, as courteous as Jimin was, he didn’t leave without leaving Jungkook a few last words:

“I am a Slytherin after all.”

✧✧✧

“Slytherins suck man,” Taehyung hummed, kicking back on his stool as he downed his Butterbeer.

Hoseok nearly spit out his drink. “Well, that escalated quickly.”

In the olden days, Hogwarts students had only been permitted to visit the lovely village of Hogsmeade on the weekend, but for awhile now, that restriction had been lifted, and the students were allowed out for a break whenever they fell fit so long as it didn’t clash with their school schedules--many professors seemed to agree that it would be better for students to buy some sweets or go on dates to distract themselves rather than wander into the more precarious areas of the school grounds in their free time.

The group of five males were comfortably seated at the Three Broomsticks, each well-comforted with their own individual foaming hot mugs of Butterbeer. Taehyung and Hoseok had gotten a table as promised, and was later joined by their close friends and older 7th year Ravenclaw students Kim Seokjin and Kim Namjoon.

Jungkook didn’t even recall how they even got to that conversation topic, but upon hearing Taehyung’s statement, Jungkook said nothing--partly because of the recent strange encounter he’d had with Park Jimin that he’d chosen to keep quiet about until now.

Another part was due to the fact that he already knew full well of the majority of the school’s views on Slytherins. Ever since the last Wizarding War, Slytherins had suddenly obtained the reputation of being vile, devious, and calculating, and everyone abided by that generalization. Jungkook, on the other hand, was a brave and proud Gryffindor, the house that was considered a direct lineage from the legendary Harry Potter himself. Everyone loved Gryffindors, everyone wanted to be a Gryffindor. They surely were the central house of Hogwarts, their mention always coming hand in hand with the reputable image of their school. On the other hand, no one liked the kind of snakes that was associated with the horrible image of Voldemort himself. Times had changed, and nowadays it seemed even the Hufflepuffs had a better reputation than the Slytherins most of the time.

And it showed in their daily social lives as well. Jungkook, as well as most of his Gryffindor friends, had no qualms in incorporating numerous Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs into their main groups of friends. But rarely did one see a green robe amidst the red. Considering the history of their houses, it was almost taboo for Gryffindor and Slytherin students to associate, with very few exceptions. Besides, it was clear to Jungkook that the Slytherins’ sense of elitism prevented them from dwindling with the “other students”, and it was hard to befriend one in their first place due to their conniving natures--you never knew which one to trust.

“What about Yoongi?” Namjoon asked suddenly. “He’s cool. You all like him.”

“Yeah but that’s Yoongi,” Taehyung retorted. “He’s not in that House by choice, he’s in that House because no one can imagine him anywhere else. He belongs there.”

“Doesn’t that go for everyone?” Seokjin said pointedly.

“How naive,” Taehyung cackled. “That’s what they want you to think. Without realizing that the single choice was literally the difference between Harry Potter and Tom Riddle. Besides, didn’t the Sorting Hat say you had potential in other places? I was a Hat Stall, you know. Could’ve been a Gryffindor. You know, because I’m the main character of every story.”

“Oh yeah. I was almost considered as a Ravenclaw by the Sorting Hat,” Jungkook pointed out suddenly.

“Yeah see--wait, seriously?” Taehyung choked.

“What do you mean ‘seriously?’” Namjoon asked. “Jungkookie is a smart kid.”

Taehyung stared at Namjoon for a good few seconds, trying to figure out if he was being sarcastic or not.

“Well, we’ll truly see when his OWLs come out next year,” Taehyung mumbled to himself.

“Oh yeah, how’s that going by the way?” Seokjin caught on at once. “You’ve been studying well for awhile now, right Jungkook?”

“Don’t look at me,” Hoseok said. “I got through that mess last year. Did alright though.”

“You know people study for that from like third year,” Namjoon noted.

“Relax,” Taehyung drawled, grabbing onto Jungkook’s shoulders suddenly. “He’ll be fine. Besides, no one’s going to call the great Jeon Jungkook anything less than Acceptable--he’s Gryffindor’s prodigy boy. Besides, he’s probably gonna go play Quidditch anyways. Even if he fails I’m sure they’ll give him a slight nudge and let him chug along anyways.”

“You know this is school, right?” Seokjin noted. “Not a popularity contest.”

“Whatever, whatever, Head Boy,” Taehyung smirked, waving his hands dismissively. “Clearly you don’t know the true powers of the incredible and beautiful Jeon Jungkookie~”

Hoseok, in the meantime, was staring at him in disgust. “What is he? A House Elf?” he spoke. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I’m not drruuunk~” Taehyung murmured again, tilting his head over so that he was leaning on Hoseok’s shoulder.

“Oh my god,” Hoseok sighed. “I think we gotta go. If the professors catch us on the way back to the Common Room, this won’t be good.”

“Just tell them what happened, what’s the big deal?” said Seokjin.

Hoseok gave Seokjin an exasperated look. “Would you believe it if I told you he got tipsy off Butterbeer?”

“...no.”

“Exactly,” Hoseok sighed, draping Taehyung’s arm over his shoulder and pulling him off his stool. “I’m sorry about this, guys. We’ll see you soon.”

Hoseok dragged Taehyung away, mumbling something about how Hufflepuff might’ve actually had a chance for the House Cup this year but not anymore.

“So Jungkookie, what have you been up to?” Namjoon asked. “You’ve been so busy lately we haven’t seen you at all.”

Jungkook shrugged. “Nothing much, really.”

“We heard about the game,” Seokjin said nonchalantly. “I hope you don’t feel responsible or anything.”

Another shrug, indicating his confused state. If he had been his regular self, he probably would’ve gotten over it already, especially with his friends trying to comfort him like this. If it weren’t for...

“Heyyy, Earth to Jungkook,” Namjoon called, waving his hand in front of Jungkook’s face. “Why don’t you go home and get some rest then? It’s been a long day. Sleep has a tendency to heal a lot of things.”

“Oh right, sure,” Jungkook snapped back to attention, trying not to get distracted by the image of that person. “Of course...uh, what were talking about?”

Seokjin sighed. “Go home and get some rest. You seem like you need it.”

“Oh, true,” Jungkook mumbled, his brain still not entirely in the right place.

“Jungkook?” Seokjin called again.

“Hmm?”

“You gonna be alright?”

Jungkook paused for a second, before standing up and giving the obvious answer.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he spoke, grabbing his stuff. “I’ll feel better by tomorrow morning. Are you guys coming with or...?”

Namjoon and Seokjin swiftly exchanged glances with each other. Jungkook, as mentally and physically exhausted as he was, still managed to take the hint.

“No, I think we’ll be good,” Seokjin answered. “We’re just gonna...stay here a little more and just do some talking.”

“Yeah, we haven’t had a decent night out in a while you see,” Namjoon replied.

Jungkook nodded. “I’ll be off then,” he smiled weakly. “Thanks for everything guys.”

Namjoon and Seokjin waved politely, and watched intently as Jungkook waved back one last time before walking out the door, heading back to his dormitories. The both of them immediately leaned back in their seats, letting out simultaneous exasperated sighs as if they had been waiting this entire time to get it out of their systems.

“What do you think it is?” Seokjin said, keeping his tones still slightly hushed, as if he still feared the thought that Jungkook could still be around. “There’s gotta be something else. He’s nowhere near angry enough. He’s...pliant almost.”

Namjoon rubbed his fingers into his temple, attempting to think even deeper. “You don’t think someone got to him did you?” he spoke. “You know how Slytherins get snarky. They might’ve hit his ego in a wrong spot or something.”

Seokjin shrugged, wrapping the blue scarf tighter around his neck to warm himself up a bit more. “Maybe we’re just overanalyzing. Maybe he’s truly mature enough now to not get worked up over such things, being the captain and all.”

A final sip of Butterbeer entered between Namjoon’s lips before he placed his mug down, his eyes glinting as if he was suddenly understanding something.

“Yeah,” Namjoon mumbled. “He’s...growing up, isn’t he?”

✧✧✧

Jeon Jungkook had made it back to the Gryffindor Common Room just in time for his usual curfew, but he found he didn’t have it in himself to crawl into bed yet, despite how exhausted his mind was feeling. Instead, he kept pacing back and forth on the common room floors without changing into pajamas, with some nagging feeling in the back of his head that he couldn’t quite pin down. Something had been left unresolved. His thoughts were restless and there was a strange feeling in his chest. It was unlike anything he’d ever felt before.

Before long, he found his feet taking him down the Grand Staircase and out of the main building, taking him towards the one and only place which could bring peace by distracting him. After all, a true Gryffindor always had an uncanny knack for sneaking into the wrong places, at the wrong time, yet always getting out (mostly) unscathed.

Before long, he found himself in the Quiddtich Training Grounds. He quickly made his way over to an abandoned shed where he’d managed to stash an extra broom--one of the cheaper ones they used to train the first year students--for use in times like this. He quickly clambered on it and lifted off into the deep, evening sky, naturally swerving this way and that, practicing his school-famous flying maneuvers, trying to empty his mind of all thoughts. It was the one place where he felt at peace, flying without wings, in the sky where he somehow naturally excelled beyond everyone else.

Before long, he had become accustomed to the cool breeze threaded through his hair and touched upon his skin. His body finally felt calmed, and he had forgotten whatever it was that was bothering him before. He did a final loop before landing gracefully on the soft field, finally ready to call it a night.

“That was some pretty smooth flying, Jeon Jungkook,” a voice suddenly called out of nowhere.

Instinctively, Jungkook jumped, hand into his chest pocket where he kept his wand. But when he looked up, the person he saw was not a professor nor a monster like he’d expected, but rather someone completely unexpected.

The person stepped closer to Jungkook. He pushed back his blonde locks to reveal his forehead, the familiar sly yet simultaneously charming smile plastered on his face like he had been born with it. He, just like Jungkook, was still dressed in his school uniform, though without the black robe adorning his shoulders.

And Jungkook didn’t know why, but as soon as he saw the Slytherin seeker, the feelings which he’d tried so hard to ignore suddenly came rushing back again despite his efforts.

“What are you doing here?” Jungkook asked, slightly terrified at the certain prospects of his situation.

“I was wandering the halls, when I noticed you were doing the same,” Jimin shrugged. “Curious, I decided to follow to see where you were headed. I never thought you’d end up here.”

Jungkook remained speechless, still worried about the consequences.

“Relax,” Park Jimin spoke, still smiling. “I won’t tell anyone you’re here past curfew.”

Jungkook gulped. “I could say the same to you.”

Unexpectedly, Jimin shook his head.

“I actually have special permission to be here, unlike you, Jeon Jungkook,” said Jimin. “Hooch noticed my busy schedule and supposed lack of prior experience despite my desire of wanting to join the Slytherin team. So she’s allowed me to use the Training Grounds off hours.” Jungkook suddenly noticed Jimin was also clutching a training broom in his right hand.

Jimin threw another smile at Jungkook’s direction.

“I’m not like you, Gryffindor,” he spoke slowly, the words slipping off his tongue as if he was chanting some sort of dangerous spell. “I was never ‘naturally talented’ at any of this. I couldn’t even control my broom for the entire first semester of my time here at Hogwarts. So I had to work with everything I had. I hope you understand.”

“Why...are you telling me this?” Jungkook inquired, feeling slightly uncomfortable. He was out here in the middle of the night having a conversation with a Slytherin. If anyone caught him, his reputation would be as good as over. Plus, there was no telling what Jimin was actually planning.

“So there’s no animosity between us,” Jimin answered, avoiding Jungkook’s eyes as he gazed towards the dark sky above them. “Like I said, I hope you understand. It was a chance for all my efforts to pay off and be completely noticed for the first time--granted, I had to sacrifice your dignity in exchange. But now, people are finally becoming curious about me. You’d probably do the same in my situation.”

“You didn’t have to do it like that,” Jungkook grumbled before he could help it. He was referring to the way Jimin had clearly hid the Snitch away only to reveal at a climatic moment in the middle of the field. He still vividly recalled the defeating feeling he’d experienced, as that seemingly hopeful moment of recovering was crushed in an instant.

“But that would’ve been no fun,” said Jimin. “I am a Slytherin, after all.”

As he spoke the last words, he tilted his head towards Jungkook, who found himself unable to stop staring. He didn’t know if it was his tired brain conjuring up detrimental ideas, but for some reason Jimin looked strangely captivating with his slightly long golden hair drifting through the wind like that, and that ambiguous half smile with so many mysteries and hidden intentions behind it.

“How about this?” Jimin said suddenly, interrupting Jungkook’s drifting thoughts. “I don’t expect you to forgive me so quickly. I probably wouldn’t either if I were you. So...what if you played a game with me? If I win the game, you forgive me. And if you win the game, I’ll agree to any one thing you request of me.”

Jungkook’s ears perked. He was always one for a challenge. And the stakes seemed to be in entirely in his favour, regardless of the outcome.

“I’m listening,” Jungkook voiced his interest at once.

Jimin smirked. “That’s what I’d figured you would say.” He suddenly reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wand.

Jungkook froze. “Don’t tell me--”

“Accio.”

After a few seconds, a red silk bag suddenly rushed out of the school building and into Jimin’s palm. Jungkook’s eyes widened as he realized what it was that was inside, squirming and writhing for freedom.

He gaped in disbelief. “How did you--?”

“I told you, special permissions,” Jimin grinned. “How am I supposed to train to be a Seeker without a Snitch?”

Jungkook had no retort, as he stared at the bag, transfixed, and slightly impressed at how Jimin had managed to convince the professors to give him a Golden Snitch to practice with in his free time.

“So how about it?” Jimin asked. “No destruction of property and no wands with the exception of absolute emergencies. First one to catch the Golden Snitch after it gets a 30 second head start wins. Also, you can’t get caught by anyone otherwise you’re eliminated. It’s gonna be difficult because it’s pretty dark out. Are you still up for it?”

Jungkook contemplated for a few seconds, trying to figure out if there was a catch, though his blood was already pumping at the prospect of being able to have a Quidditch battle at night when no one else was watching.

“Wait a minute, I’m not a Seeker though,” Jungkook said. “I’m just a Chaser. Shouldn’t that give you an advantage?”

Jimin blatantly scoffed in Jungkook’s face. “Everyone knows how you fly, Jeon Jungkook. The only reason why you’re not a Seeker is because your flying abilities are so valuable that they should be utilized at all times, not just when the Snitch is released.”

Jungkook couldn’t help but grinning a little at the fact that Jimin knew this. He could literally feel his ego inflating, even if just a little bit.

“Thanks,” Jungkook responded dumbly, not even sure if it was the proper answer. And from the way Jimin laughed at him, he realized that it was probably not.

But for some reason, it didn’t feel too bad. Not at all.

Jimin reached out as the broom rapidly whizzed to his palm, mounting it promptly. Jungkook nodded as he did the same, his heart thumping eagerly in his chest.

“Ready?” Jimin asked, as he undid the drawstring of the bag. Jungkook watched as the Snitch whizzed excitedly at its freedom, already shooting away at remarkable speeds.

“You know it,” Jungkook answered, his eyes changing. He also had his pride as Gryffindor’s Quidditch Captain on this line. No way was he gonna lose this. Jimin and Jungkook narrowed their eyes in anticipation, both of them already shaking on their tippy toes, ready to launch on the count.

“Okay then,” Jimin smiled. “Then...3...2...1.”

They both kicked off and accelerated rapidly, reaching extreme speed and height within an impressive amount of time, despite using training brooms. They both swerved towards the direction they saw the Snitch heading, over one of the stone bridges of the school building, racing neck and neck. They launched themselves over treetops and swerved around corners with remarkable control, refusing to give in even just a little. Though Jungkook was known for his ability to accelerate in record time and impeccable control, he was surprised to find that Jimin was right on his tail.

Hmm...he’s not bad. At all. Jungkook thought. But I’m better.

Without even looking back, Jungkook took an unexpected dive towards what seemed to be impenetrable wall. However, beneath some protruding stone there was a narrow crack which he tilted his body and managed to cut through with an impressive amount of agility. One turn within a narrow, deserted alleyway followed by a quick shot upwards brought him back out to the exterior, with Jimin nowhere in sight and likely left way behind due to his sudden shortcut.

He couldn’t help but smirk to himself, trying to imagine the shocked look on Jimin’s face when he managed to pull that off.

Taking a quick breather from his sudden lead, he found himself at a vantage point that allowed him to see quite a large field of vision, despite it being the evening. He squinted his eyes, desperately trying to make out the tiny Snitch. He suddenly understood why Jimin suggested this battle--not only was it a battle of flying alone, but also a battle of vision, as a keen eye was a valuable possession for any exemplary Seeker.

Fortunately, Jungkook also had almost perfect night vision.

And that’s when he saw it. A yellow glimmer in the distance towards where a forest of trees loomed. It could’ve been anything, even a mistake. But Jeon Jungkook was a true Gryffindor, and as true Gryffindors usually were, he wasted no time in following his instincts and immediately accelerated as rapidly as he could towards the sparkling object.

Though it appeared that Jeon Jungkook was shooting at his maximum speeds, he was actually being moderately cautious this time--he’d let his neglect for his surroundings get the better of him once, and he wasn’t about to let it happen again. So he flew at a speed lenient enough to allow him to still keep a steady eye on every other movement around him.

The twinkle again, but this time, much closer, and this time, he knew for sure that it was the Golden Snitch, sparkling and beckoning him to come closer for the victory. He smirked to himself, as he already started to fantasize about what favours he would make Park Jimin do.

Suddenly super motivated, the Gryffindor Chaser pointed the nose of his broom downwards, accelerating to his maximum speeds at last. He was ready to reach his arm out, literal seconds away from finally gaining back his pride--

A wisp of gold, suddenly appearing out of nowhere and blocking his way.

“WHERE’D YOU COME FROM?” Jungkook couldn’t help but screech in pure disbelief, when he suddenly found himself tailing behind Park Jimin in their pursuit of the Golden Snitch.

He heard a bubbling laughter from the front which did nothing to ease his already tormented mindset.

“You managed to look in all directions, even behind you impressively,” he heard Jimin shout from in front of him. “But you forgot to look above you.”

Jungkook felt the blood pumping in his ears again, as an unexplainable surge of excitement coursed through him.

“Were you circling above me this entire time?” he asked, incredulous.

“Some of us prefer not to use flashy tricks, Gryffindor,” Jimin said, before abruptly gaining speed again.

Jungkook suddenly realized what was going on, and that he was now seconds away from losing this battle. And that wasn’t an option. Gritting his teeth, he used everything he had left to chase after Jimin, until they were finally side by side. The Snitch was still whizzing in front of them, but was slowing failing to shake them of their tail despite its abrupt changes in direction.

“Give up, Park Jimin,” Jungkook growled, as he lunged forwards, trying to grab at the flying ball. “I lost once I’m not gonna lose again.”

“Oh? You finally learned my name,” Jimin retorted. Jungkook was feeling his presence more than ever, now that they were side by side, chasing after a single goal. “I beg to differ, Jeon Jungkook--once you defeat someone once it’s not hard to believe you can do it a second time.”

Jungkook couldn’t help but smile to himself. He suddenly found himself seeing Park Jimin in an entirely new light--the boy clearly didn’t know when to give up. And somehow, he appreciated that. It reminded him of a certain someone he was all too familiar with.

But there was no time for pleasant thoughts. The Snitch suddenly made an aberrant move, diving madly towards one of the corners of the school building, ready to round it and disappear out of sight again. But Jungkook had seen this before, back when he was training to be the prospective Seeker for the team.

Mercilessly, being the quicker one, Jungkook aggressively cut his broom in front of Jimin, forcing him to the inner side and trapping him as they headed straight for the corner, ensuring that he would round the corner first. But Jimin wasn’t giving up, trying to push as close as possible to the wall without getting hurt. But it was useless, he would have no choice but to back out and go behind Jungkook.

Sorry Jimin, it’s my win this time.

“AHHHH!”

Jungkook suddenly halted when he heard the pained scream shoot through the otherwise silent night. His blood ran cold, as he realized that in his desire to win, he had caused something horrible to happen.

Oh my god, I’m an idiot.

In a deranged fury, Jungkook immediately halted his broom to turn around and expect the worst.

His voice started to cracked as he called out to his opponent. “Jimin, I’m so sorry I--”

A sudden whiz passed by him, his hair and clothes being picked up by the fast wind. It all happened in a blur, and he didn’t even realize what was going on for the first few seconds. He soon noticed that it was empty behind him, where there should’ve been carnage, and in front of him was Park Jimin floating triumphantly on his broom, clutching the struggling Snitch between his thumb and index finger with a glorious smile on his face, as if it was the easiest thing he’d ever done in his life.

Jungkook was in disbelief. Breathing heavily he managed a “You...you...you tricked me.”

Jimin’s smile only widened. “I win,” he declared proudly.

And when Jimin broke out into his bubbling laughter, tilting his head back and simply enjoying the moment, Jungkook felt a surge of something through his heart, and it was in that moment that he finally realized he had messed up in more ways than one.

Yeah, he had lost. Absolutely and again. Probably in the most miserable way possible.

But seeing Jimin laugh like this...it almost felt good.

He almost wanted to do it all over again.

The two of them slowly drifted back towards the Training Ground, with Jimin laughing gleefully all the way, while Jungkook was training to control this strange, confusing and overwhelming mess of emotions which he had never dealt with before.

“Now, you need to keep your end of the promise,” Jimin reminded Jungkook, as he slipped the Snitch back into its pouch for safe-keeping again.

“Oh, right,” Jungkook mumbled, words suddenly not working well with him. “I, uh, I forgive you.” What am I forgiving him for again?

But of course, Park Jimin wasn’t done tormenting him as it was.

“Hold on,” Jimin replied at once. “I never said I was going to accept your apology that easily. Don’t you think you were being much too harsh for someone so soft and fragile like me?”

Normally, Jungkook would’ve scoffed and called him out. Saying that it was Jimin’s problem, not his. But for some reason, his tongue refused to cooperate, and he couldn’t do anything but keep his eyes fixed on Jimin, who, as if by some mysterious incantation, was becoming more and more attractive to him by the second.

“So...uh...what do you...what do you want me to do?” Jungkook asked. For some reason, Jungkook suddenly wasn’t so impartial to the idea of being able to spend more time with Park Jimin after this.

Jimin pushed his hair back and smiled brightly at Jungkook. “Meet me here at the exact same time tomorrow, and every week after that for a month. If you’re so willing to see me, then I’ll accept that you’ve truly forgiven me.”

Jungkook was stunned at the awfully odd request.

“You make a good practice buddy,” Jimin continued. “Practicing by myself has its limit. So help me out for a month.”

“What if I get caught?” Jungkook protested. “I can’t be here so freely. I don’t have ‘special permissions’, unlike you.”

“Well then,” Jimin replied at once. “That’s too bad for you. See you tomorrow night, Gryffindor.” He was already turning on his heels to leave.

“Wait!”

The word slipped out of Jungkook’s mouth before his brain could catch up. Jimin had already stopped his tracks and caught his eyes.

Oh? He has pretty eyes too?

Jungkook gulped. He knew he had wanted to say something but he wasn’t sure exactly what. It seemed that he just wanted to prolong the moment, even for just a few seconds.

“Everything alright, Jeon Jungkook?” Jimin asked, slightly amused.

“I think you’re really good at Quidditch,” Jungkook blurted, instinctively, as the first thing on his mind.

For the first time, Jimin appeared shocked for a few a seconds, but that quickly melted into his usual smile again.

“I couldn’t hear you,” Jimin spoke.

Jungkook stepped closer boldly, as if this was something he suddenly really wanted Jimin to hear when he repeated:

“Park Jimin, I think you’re really good at flying.”

Jimin broke out into laughter, and for a second Jungkook thought an angel had blessed his ears.

“That means a lot coming from you, O Legendary Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team,” Jimin grinned. “But you haven’t seen anything yet. This is only the beginning.”

Jimin was started to walk away again, but this time with a strange little bounce in his steps that Jungkook couldn’t help but notice.

“Sleep tight, Jeon Jungkook!” Jimin yelled gleefully over his shoulders. “Try not to see me in your nightmares tonight.”

And with that Park Jimin was gone. Not realizing that he’d left Jungkook there, alone, barely clutching onto his broomstick with a dazed smile on his face and his heart thumping in a way it never had before. He attempted to take a step back towards the entrance to the school, but found himself to be light-headed.

And when Jungkook briefly recalled those charming eyes and bewitching smile, he suddenly felt strange lurch in his chest.

Oh boy...

✧✧✧

“Jungkook, there’s egg on your face.”

Jungkook immediately snapped back to reality, reaching to wipe his mouth. “Sorry,” he said to Taehyung. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Good. You didn’t hear us shit-talking you for the past five minutes,” Taehyung rolled his eyes.

“What? Seriously?”

“No. You idiot. You actually weren’t paying attention for the past five minutes I can’t believe you.”

Their usual group of friends were sat in the Great Hall for breakfast, the sky above them as clear as day. Over the past few years, the school had finally abolished the year old ritual of segregation by houses, and students could sit wherever they wanted for informal gatherings such as breakfast, lunch or dinner. Students were nowadays encouraged to set their differences aside and mingle between all the different houses, and get to learn good things from everyone. However, despite the mixture of red, blue and yellow amongst most tables, there remained a large strip of green for the long table closest to the doors by the entrance to the Great Hall, as if tradition had never changed for the Slytherins.

Of course, there were always a few exceptions.

“Oi, Jungkook, what’s up with you anyway?” 7th year Slytherin Min Yoongi groaned aloud before munching on a slice of ham.

“Are you ill?” Hoseok asked in concern, from his seat right next to Yoongi.

“No, no, I’m fine,” Jungkook muttered. “I just...didn’t sleep well last night.”

“Ah, you’re a sore loser, aren’t you?” Yoongi couldn’t help but snark. “It’s okay, I personally slept like a baby last night. It was a good day for us D-boys.”

“D-boys?” Namjoon asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Dungeon Boys,” Yoongi stated, as if it should’ve been the most obvious thing in the world. “You know, cause our Common Room is a Dungeon?”

“That will never sound appealing to me. Living in a hipster dungeon,” Seokjin commented nonchalantly.

“Shut up. It beats getting stuck outside your posh-ass lily adorned tower cause you don’t know the answer to one of those elitist dad jokes,” Yoongi shot back.

“Those are not dad jokes, those are certified Ravenclaw riddles for your information,” Seokjin grimaced, fully offended.

“Can we focus here?” Taehyung interjected. “Jungkook’s having a crisis here. We should worry about him first.”

“Guys, I’m fine, really,” Jungkook insisted. “Couldn’t have been better.”

“Really? What time did you fall asleep last night?” Seokjin interrogated swiftly.

Jungkook shrugged. “I dunno...like 4 a.m.?”

“What the hell were you doing up at that time?” Hoseok asked.

“I was...uhhh...doing laundry.”

The entire group promptly glared at him.

“That excuse doesn’t work here, Jungkook. a) we’re not your naive parents and b) we don’t do even do our own laundry here,” Taehyung frowned.

“Just tell us the truth man, we won’t tell anyone,” Hoseok insisted.

“Yeah,” Seokjin agreed. “You’re our Gryffindor baby. We would never say or do anything to make you feel uncomfortable.”

Jungkook considered his options for his seconds, weighing the genuineness of their words.

“You sure you won’t tell anyone?” he spoke.

“Promise,” Namjoon nodded, on behalf of the rest of them.

Jungkook took a deep breath.

“I met up with Park Jimin last night.”

A chorus of gasps echoed amongst the five of them and Jungkook immediately knew he’d made a mistake. The variety in emotional reaction was quite impressive: Seokjin and Namjoon looked concerned and displeased grandparents while Hoseok and Taehyung had their faces scrunched up in disgust, almost as if Jungkook had just sold away their most well-kept secrets.

Yoongi was only one grinning. “Park Jimin,” he repeated the name, playing with it on his tongue. “I know that kid. I like him. He’s a bit too naturally erotic for his own good though.”

Hoseok stared at him in horror. “Why are you talking about real people like that?”

Yoongi shrugged. “Have you seen him?”

“No, but--”

Namjoon raised his head. “I saw him once. Passed by him in the halls. The way he walks though. I wasn’t even trying to pay attention and...” His voice trailed off as he realized Seokjin looked livid, ready to choke the living hell out of Namjoon.

Jungkook was bewildered. “I don’t think he’s like that.”

“Oh, what do you know? You’re blinded by hate,” Seokjin growled, clearly agitated. Jungkook wasn’t even sure if he was talking to himself or not.

Jungkook thought about for it a few more seconds. He never really saw Jimin as attractive at first, too consumed by his competitive desire to dominate and outplay him, and it wasn’t until later that he saw him to be beautiful rather than...whatever it was they were describing. Though, it didn’t take him very long to understand their point of view.

Oh. Yup. I totally see it. Jungkook quickly shook it out of his head, trying not to make his situation even worse than it already was.

“What’d you do with him anyway?” Taehyung spoke up suddenly. “Did you guys get into a scrap or something?”

Jungkook shook his head, starting to think about how much he should tell. “No, we were just...talking.”

“About what though?” Seokjin added. “That’s always the most important part.”

Jungkook was about to answer genuinely, when he heard some snickering from across the table.

“Maybe Kookie was having some moonlight confessions with the Slytherin Seeker,” Taehyung said suddenly. Jungkook froze, wondering if they were actually onto something.

But then he realized--much to his dismay--that they all had fairly amused looks on their faces.

“Ha. Can you imagine? If Jeon Jungkook, the Gryffindor pride, actually messed around with a Slytherin? Oh man, what a knee slapper!” Hoseok spoke in a mocking voice, and finished with a loud, obnoxious laugh.

Jungkook felt his heart sink to its depths, as the vibrant sound of their joyous laugher completely crushed the seedlings of his ludicrous fantasies.

“Stop teasing him!” Seokjin scolded. “Why would even suggest something ridiculous like that? Jungkook would never.”

But even Yoongi was laughing. “Oh man, you guys kill me. Jungkook, of all people, the most ‘Gryffindorest’ person I know. With a Slytherin. That’s actually hilarious.”

“Please,” Namjoon interjected, placing a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder. “As if Jungkook could ever be infatuated with someone from the very house who did their best to humiliate him yesterday...and all other days to be honest. Everyone’s got pride and self-love. No way could someone ever fall into something so deprecating.”

“Bro, chill. I was just kidding,” said Taehyung, as he tore at a chicken drumstick. “As if Jungkook would even get close to those snakes in the first place. Other than to fight them, of course.”

“Hello? I’m sitting right here,” Yoongi waved, slightly annoyed but simultaneously used to the usual chirps Taehyung (and others) liked to poked at his house.

“I already said you’re different,” Taehyung reassured. He reached over and wrapped an arm around Yoongi who swiftly pushed it off. Before anyone could stop them, they had commenced their usual debate of whether Hufflepuff or Slytherin was truly superior nowadays within the modern social hierarchy of Hogwarts.

Jungkook chose to zone them out, having a whole new set of problems to deal with. He desperately tried to keep a grimace from appearing on his face but he wasn’t sure if it was working, so he tried to cover it up by drinking some more pumpkin juice. His chest was starting to acquire that extremely tight, uncomfortable feeling again, as that conversation wasn’t at all what he’d wanted to hear at all. He’d hoped that he could introduce the prospects of a new friend to the group, but from the way they had all reacted, that was far from reality. In fact, he wasn’t even sure if he could keep all their comments from affecting his own personal judgment of Park Jimin.

Jungkook held back a sigh, wondering what to do with himself when the evening would finally arrive again. That fluttering feeling when he was with Jimin had been pleasant, and he’d wanted to explore for a bit longer, but at this rate it seemed that he would have to seal it all off in order to keep all his current relationships as they were.

As Jungkook raised the goblet to his lips again, he noticed someone in the corner of his eye. As if with impeccable timing, Park Jimin had suddenly risen from his seat along with some of his friends, having finished their meal. Before he could help himself, Jungkook was staring again, intent on observing his former acquaintance within his natural surroundings.

He truly had a lovely smile, similar to the one he threw at Jungkook several times last night, but this one seemed more genuine. The way his blonde hair gently toppled amongst itself as he leaned back in laughter was quite nice to look at from a distance. Jungkook continued watching as Jimin gestured for his friends to go ahead of him,s tarting to pack several large books back into his bag.

At last, he was done, and Jungkook quickly tore his eyes away as he realized Jimin was headed towards his direction, or at least passing by the table in front of him. He pretended to indulge in his pumpkin juice again, when he suddenly made the mistake of glancing upwards.

Namjoon was right. There certainly was something mesmerizing about the way Jimin moved, every sway of his hips slightly more captivating than it should be. And then Jungkook was staring again, the goblet still pressed awkwardly against his lips. His eyes raked over Jimin’s pretty guise, his heart thumping way faster than it ought to.

And that’s when it happened.

In a decisive moment, Jimin glanced over towards Jungkook, right when he was passing right in front of him, as if he’d been aware that Jungkook was watching him all along. Jungkook’s breath hitched in his throat. Jimin met eye contact with him for barely more than a second, but it was more than enough to give him a slight smirk and nod to acknowledge their acquaintance.

Oh...wow...

And suddenly, a loud clatter resonated from where they were sitting, causing Jung Hoseok to curse and nearly jump out of his seat.

The sound immediately brought Jungkook back to reality, and when he looked back Jimin was nowhere to be seen. All that remained was his now empty goblet that had evidently slipped out of his hand and crashed onto the floor in his dazed moment.

“Jungkook, are you okay?” Namjoon asked in concern, as he rushed to clean the orange-coloured juice off Jungkook’s robes.

“Um...there’s some juice dripping out of your mouth...” Seokjin commented, half in concern, half in disgust.

Jungkook hurriedly wiped himself down, in order to decrease the amount of attention he was suddenly attracting.

“Sorry,” Jungkook muttered, embarrassed. “I just...um...zoning out. Really sorry.”

“See this is what you happens when you don’t get enough sleep,” said Seokjin matter-of-factly.

“Okay, mom,” Jungkook responded boldly.

“It’s fine. You didn’t miss much anyways,” Hoseok frowned as he waved his hand dismissively. “Those two are still going at it.” He nodded at the Slytherin and Hufflepuff sat next to him, glaring at each other viciously.

“Fight me, Min Yoongi,” Taehyung was growling. “You and me. Duel after D.A. tomorrow. Hoseok’s the referee.

The owner of the mentioned spit out his mouthful of potatoes, much to everyone’s else distaste.

“WHAT?! Why me?!” Hoseok protested. “Get Namjoon to do it. He’d probably be more fair.”

“Nah, we like you,” Yoongi and Taehyung both said simultaneously.

Hoseok suddenly revoked his stance, softening at once and even seeming slightly flattered as indicated by his partial smile.

“What does that make me?” Namjoon muttered, slightly offended.

Jungkook silently groaned to himself. Sure, they were excited about duelling with each other, but none of them seemed to care that he would be dealing with the most difficult battle of them all--an internal battle against himself.

Careful not to let them notice, Jungkook slowly slumped into his arms on the free space on the dining table and buried his head into them.

Their mocking laughter echoed in his ears, followed by the vivid imagery of Jimin’s smile.

Jungkook let out a sigh at last.

His heart was probably going to be torn apart at this rate.

✧✧✧

That evening, Jungkook walked towards the Training Grounds with more bravado than he could ever expect. In the hours between his last conversation with his friends until now, he had somehow managed to convince himself that maybe, just maybe he wasn’t infatuated with Jimin like he thought he was at all.

As Jungkook kept walking, he started contemplating other possibilities. Maybe, it was much too soon to jump to such rash conclusions. Maybe, in the heat of the adrenaline, he had mistaken his excitement for some other feelings. Maybe, it was his first time meeting a slightly strange person so his brain justified for his lack of social skills by making him constantly think about that person. Maybe, he wouldn’t have to worry about causing any turmoil as a Gryffindor after all. Maybe--

A pair of soft, small hands suddenly snuck around his face and covered his eyes. Before he could be startled, he felt a lingering breath on his ear, followed by a familiar voice in the gentlest whisper:

“Guess who?”

The hands removed themselves, and then Park Jimin was in front of him, smiling brightly and standing much closer than he’d ever intended for them to be.

Jungkook’s heart did a complete 180, plummeted in its cavern, rose back up and did a few flips before slamming against chest full force.

Haha, nope.

“H-h-hey,” Jungkook said smoothly.

“You’re awfully timely, Mr. Jeon Jungkook,” Jimin drawled out his name in a way that made him want to slam his head against a wall so it would echo in his brain forever. “Maybe you really do wanna forgive me.”

“O-of course,” Jungkook replied, mindlessly following Jimin like a puppy. “So, uh, should I get my broom or...?”

Jimin turned on his heels, tilting his head at Jungkook. “Oh? No need for that right now. Follow me.”

Jungkook jolted a little, before obediently following Jimin back towards an alleyway hidden between the stone walls of the school buildings. He was slightly surprised that Jimin knew of a place within Hogwarts that even he didn’t know.

Gradually, Jungkook became more and more aware of how narrow the alleyway was, and more vexingly how close he was to Jimin. He could barely feel the rustling of the other’s clothes on his own, and he was holding his breath, hoping Jimin didn’t notice his hyperawareness.

“Um, what’s in here?” Jungkook asked cautiously.

“What are you waiting for?” Jimin replied with his own question. “Take it off.”

“Excuse me?”

“Your robes, take them off,” Jungkook couldn’t help but stare with a gulp as Jimin started unbuttoning his own robe and undoing his tie.

“W-what?”

A tiny laughter escaped Jimin’s throat as he suddenly tapped Jungkook’s shoulder, nudging him aside. It was only then that Jungkook noticed there was an opening in the wall, or rather several missing stones making for a little storage space. And to further demonstrate this, Jimin cast the summoning spell once again, and out came his practice broom and the bag containing the Snitch. He threw his own robes and tie back inside.

“Wouldn’t want them to get ruined, do you?” said Jimin. “Unless you plan on using the hindrance as an excuse when you lose again.”

"Who do you think I am?” Jungkook scoffed. “Are you trying to provoke me on purpose?”

Jimin’s smile only widened. “Always.”

Swiftly, Jungkook immediately followed suit and shoved his own robe and tie into the opening, the competitive spirit already coursing through his veins.

“Also, one more time,” Jimin spoke. “Accio.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened as another broom suddenly hovered in the opening, and he recognized it as none other than the iconic Nimbus 2001 broomstick, the one that Jimin used in game.

“Bring your Firebolt here next time,” Jimin suggested. “I wanna have a battle with no handicaps.”

“Why do you use the training brooms if you have this one safely kept here?” Jungkook asked out of curiosity.

Jimin shrugged. “I guess I like the challenge,” he spoke. “I like using the training brooms because they’re the bare minimum, so when I actually go out to play, it’ll feel easier.” He paused for a second, and then added as an afterthought. “Plus, I guess I like being mildly restrained.”

Jimin gave Jungkook no time to properly process what he’d just said before he brushed past him and headed back towards the Training Grounds.

“Grab your training broom and meet me out there,” said Jimin. “We’ll have the same battle as last time?” He waved the wriggling Snitch bag

“I won’t lose this time,” Jungkook said confidently.

Jimin smiled. “We’ll see about that.”

✧✧✧

Jimin and Jungkook collapsed onto the soft, green grass of the Training Grounds, breathing heavily in satisfaction, with the sweat dripping down their necks and foreheads. Park Jimin laid with his broom falling out of his left hand, while Jungkook’s was still clutched in his right, and the Golden Snitch gripped firmly in his left.

It had been a fierce battle, neck-in-neck and without mercy. But ultimately, a victor had been determined.

“Good game,” Jimin exhaled, turning over onto his side to look at Jungkook.

“Yeah...” Jungkook sighed, his chest heaving as he remained flat on his back, staring up into the dark sky now speckled with stars.

“You really wanted to win this time, huh?” Jimin asked softly.

“What? You didn’t?”

“Fair enough. But you flew especially well today.”

“I had to. I couldn’t let you win again.”

“Mmm. If I wasn’t so busy trying to beat you I might’ve swooned for you...”

Jimin shuffled closer. Jungkook tensed, as Jimin’s eyes suddenly appeared in front of him, glimmering mischievously as Jimin leaned over and pressed a hand into his chest.

“I guess we really do bring out the best in each other huh?” Jimin’s voice was quiet, almost in a whisper.

Jungkook had forgotten about the butterflies in his stomach up until now (as he had been too focussed on winning), and when they came back in a flurry, he immediately became hyperaware of how nervous he was. He couldn’t even move, and it was as if his body was Petrified. He wondered if it was just in his imagination that Jimin was leaning even closer.

“Hey, Jungkook, I think you really have forgiven me, haven’t you?” Jimin asked.

Blood. Coursing through Jeon Jungkook’s veins. Pulse. Rapidly beating. Sweat. Dripping endlessly from his temples. Was it the remnants of adrenalin? Or was it something else entirely?

Certainly, Jimin was definitely leaning closer.

“Jungkook?” Jimin called his name. The way it slipped off his tongue felt so right. “What do you say? Have you forgiven me? This was the whole point of this, remember?”

The way Jimin’s fingers were dancing on his chest was so intensely noticeable, it delayed Jungkook’s response a few seconds.

“I...I already said that yesterday,” said Jungkook.

“Said what?”

“That I forgave you.”

Jimin pulled back, seemingly unsatisfied with the response.

“I don’t believe you,” he said. “You can’t possible forgive me so easily for humiliating you in front of the entire school.”

Jungkook had no idea what Jimin was trying to get him to say or do, it was bothering him immensely.

“I don’t care about that anymore,” Jungkook replied. “Not since last night.”

“Hmm? Why is that?” Jimin asked. “What’s changed since then?”

“I-I don’t know.”

“I think you do know.”

And then Jimin had moved closer again, his eyes slightly lidded and lips slightly pursed. And from the way Jungkook’s heart skipped a beat, he realized that he did indeed know after all, deep inside.

“Can you prove it to me, Jungkook?” Jimin hummed.

“Huh?”

“Show me that you’ve forgiven me.”

It all happened in an instant. In reality, Jimin moved slowly, giving Jungkook plenty of time to move should he choose to. But he didn’t. He let Jimin move forwards, feeling the weight of his hand pressing into his chest. His eyes fluttered to a half-lidded state as he felt the fleeting warmth on his lips, a soft, gentle sensation that made his head spin as if he was dreaming.

It lasted barely more than a second, but it was more than enough.

Jimin slumped onto Jungkook’s shoulders, so that his lips were right next to his ears. “I’ll be busy tomorrow night,” Jimin whispered. “But I’ll let you know when I can see you again. Don’t forget about tonight.”

Jungkook sensed a sudden emptiness from within him. “Jimin, I--”

“Sleep well, Jungkook.”

And then Jimin was gone, with Jungkook still lying there, still feeling completely dazed from everything that had just happened. In fact, he wasn’t sure if even happened at all, or his he’d just dreamed it all up in his exhausted state.

It was another good five minutes before Jungkook could even bring himself to move again.

✧✧✧

The answer was obvious. And anyone else would’ve known it. It was about time that Jungkook recognized it himself.

He sighed to himself as he sat up in his bed, barely sleeping a wink last night as he attempted to find alternative answers. But there were none, because the truth was as plain as day. The smile captivated him, those eyes enchanted him, and his words were like an Imperius Curse. He couldn’t stop thinking about Jimin. He liked Jimin. And he could no longer deny that his young, naive heart had fallen for the cunning Slytherin.

Last night, he speculated if Jimin had planned this all along. Seduction seemed second nature to the pretty Slytherin boy, and Jungkook couldn’t help but wonder if he was playing right into his palm without even knowing it. Despite it being a very likely scenario, he knew he was already caught deep in the web, and there was no easy way of getting out now.

Dragging himself out of his covers, Jungkook decided the best way to approach this was to ask for someone’s else opinion. Getting himself cleaned up, Jungkook quickly changed into his school robes and headed for the dining hall, where his group of tight-knit friends would surely already be waiting for him, filled with wise and unbiased advice.

As Jungkook rounded the corner, he noticed Kim Taehyung and Jung Hoseok walking ahead of him as if on cue. With a blazing smile on his face, he quickly rushed towards them, opening his mouth to call them.

“It’s like they put all the assholes in one group and called it a House,” Taehyung was saying,

“Yeah, when are they going to abolish the Slytherin house already?” Hoseok agreed spitefully. “Nothing good ever came out of it anyways.”

“When Min Yoongi graduates,” Taehyung joked. They both laughed happily at the comment.

Jungkook froze in his steps, ccidentally overhearing the conversation they were having. Heaviness weighing down his chest, Jungkook slowly hid behind the one of the pillars in the hallway, heart pounding rapidly as he contemplated what they’d just said.

They surely were not intentionally being hurtful, he was sure--they’d always talked like this, for as long as he’d remembered. And if anything, maybe others in the school shared the same cynical opinion, based on the history that they knew.

It’s none of my business, Jungkook reassured himself internally. It’s the school’s problem, not mine. Anyways, if that’s that case, then I probably shouldn’t let them know about this.

Jungkook was torn, and the already sparse pool of people who he could ask for advice had suddenly diminished greatly.

Think, Jungkook, think! Who would offer you decent advice and not be judgmental...

His eyes widened as he realized that there was one person left, the only person who could effectively aid him in his childish endeavours.

✧✧✧

“So basically, you want me to help you get into Park Jimin’s pants?”

Jungkook couldn’t help but feel humbled. Min Yoongi’s blunt way of talking somehow always had a way of revealing a person’s true desires in the most crude way possible.

They were sitting in an empty classroom, yet for some reason, he couldn’t help but fear that other students--or even worse, a Professor--could be listening in.

“Well...more or less,” Jungkook mumbled. “But it doesn’t have to be like that right away.”

“I’m surprised,” Yoongi chortled, quite amused at the situation. “I wasn’t kidding when I said I couldn’t imagine a straight-laced Gryffindor like you falling for any Slytherin, let alone the one who stole your thunder so ruthlessly like that.”

“That doesn’t matter to me anymore,” Jungkook said. “It’s the first time I’ve liked someone like this. And I really want to do something about it.”

Yoongi’s expression softened, and his tone suddenly became more understanding. He reached over and patted Jungkook encouragingly on the shoulder.

“Aw, don’t look so distressed,” Yoongi reassured. “The heart wants what it wants after all.”

Jungkook calmed down at once, grateful for Yoongi’s rare sympathy.

A sudden exhale from Yoongi nearly extinguished the relax mood.

“But I have to warn you,” Yoongi spoke suddenly. “This won’t be easy.”

“W-what do you mean?” Jungkook panicked, stumbling over his words. “Why? Why wouldn’t it be easy?”

“I’m not sure what Park Jimin said or did that made you so head over heels for him,” Yoongi explained carefully. “But you have to realize that he’s a special one--he has that charming effect on a lot of people. You may just be one single red apple in a giant orchard, if you know what I’m trying to say.”

Jungkook remained silent, waiting for Yoongi to elaborate.

“The point is, you have to stand out amongst the rest,” Yoongi continued. “Be that ripest, biggest, roundest, shiniest apple. Make yourself someone he can’t help but pluck. Only then will he truly be yours.”

It took Jungkook awhile, but eventually he understood. “That’s not a problem,” he grinned. “I’m Jeon Jungkook.” He promptly received a smack on the back of the head.

“Do you even hear yourself right now?” Yoongi scowled. “I’m Jeon Jungkook. Who the fuck do you think you are? Do you ever hear me going around telling the world I’m Min Fucking Yoongi? No. So put a sock in it. No one cares.”

“Can’t you at least let me down gently?” Jungkook complained, rubbing the back of his head.

“Listen, do you want my help or not?” Yoongi shot back. “I don’t care how much those Gryffindor jocks hype you up but to us Slytherins, being an obnoxious, dick-waving Gryffindor immediately gives you a negative ten points on the datable scale. And you, being the Jeon Jungkook who is the practical poster boy of those people, probably makes you at the very least a negative fifty thousand.” He gave another frustrated sigh before continuing again. “I mean just think about it for two seconds--if he cared at all about you and your name, he would’ve never publicly humiliated you in front of the entire school.”

Jungkook felt utterly defeated. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right,” Yoongi agreed. “But, no worries. Not all hope is lost. I have an idea. We Slytherins tend to respect those who can outsmart us, so that’s all you gotta do.”

“You want me to outsmart Jimin?” Jungkook gawked. “Do you not realize how my brain practically turns into mush every time I talk to him?”

“It’s not like you can beat him with your non-mushy brain either,” Yoongi grinned, clearly having fun with this at this point. “Which is why you’ll be following my plans step-by-step, and not acting on your own.”

Jungkook contemplated for a few seconds. “Okay...let’s hear it first then.”

Yoongi cleared his throat, looking more and more like a mad scientist by the second--and Jungkook was the guinea pig.

“First, you’ll need some Polyjuice Potion.”

✧✧✧

end of pt. 1

pt. 2 will come. eventually. but not until after i finish my exams probably. XD and ofc it gets complicated so take this as like a sort of teaser and whie you’re in the mood for this kind of trope? :3

the houses were my preference of course, what i’ve always imagined them to be. i had the longest time deciding whether or not to put taehyung into hufflepuff or gryffindor but i figured...he has those badger-like qualities and is super popular and friendly so... :)

also. the second part of this fic will focus more on the dynamics of the Slytherin house and people’s feelings towards it in general. Believe it or not, these “hateful” comments are all real comments I’ve heard about the green house, and I just wanted to address them a little. Being my “second house” recently, I think there’s a lot of qualities of Slytherins that people don’t see or appreciate, and we’ll be definitely be seeing something like that in the second part. Also, I hope that you all kind of a see a bigger image for all of this despite being just a happy go lucky Harry Potter AU--no one should be judged on superficial, pre defined categories ;)

hope you enjoyed! and believe it or not i had this started before any of this run stuff came out, so this just happened to be impeccable timing and simply validated the realness of my characters so that got me even more excited ! ^^

don’t forget to come back for the (juicier) pt 2 :P

#jikook #jikook fic #harry potter au #fanfic #secretfanfics #before i go mia for a week. lmao

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katalyna-rose · 7 years

Text

Becoming Champion

Rating: Teen and Up

Warning: Graphic depictions of violence

Pairing: Fenris/f!Hawke

Tags: Angst

Summary: A duel to the death between a mage and a powerful Qunari warrior can't end well, yet Fenris has to watch as the woman he loves attempts to hold her own against the Arishok to save Kirkwall. He has to struggle not to throw himself into the fight beside her and violate the terms of the duel, begging, praying for just a little more time, one more chance with her to do it right. He needs her to know that he loves her.

Read on AO3!

Watching a mage who wielded a bow fight a nearly unmatched warrior whose sheer brute strength seemed almost impossible felt a lot like watching a ritual sacrifice to Fenris. It was made worse by the fact that the mage in question was the one person he loved above all others. His heart had leapt into his throat the moment the fight began and his stomach had joined it with the first near miss. He almost wished he was physically capable of turning away, terrified to see her hurt but terrified of missing a single second as well. It was a conflict that left him feeling raw and unable to so much as blink.

Hawke kept moving, retreating in a complicated dance that kept her exactly where the Arishok least expected her to be. But despite never receiving even a glancing hit she couldn’t seem to hurt him, either. Her arrows were brushed away by those enormous blades and her spells seemed to mostly slide off of him. They fought in circles, the captive nobility pressed back against the walls as far out of the way as physically possible. Fenris was the closest to the fight since he couldn’t seem to move away. Aveline had a tight hold on his wrist since he had almost charged in to fight beside Hawke despite the fact that it would violate the terms of the duel. Isabela stood beside him, a hand pressed to her mouth and tears sliding down her face. Every few seconds she muffled a sob or sniffled. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Anders wringing his hands at his other side. He hadn’t actually known that was something people did before, but the mage rocked on his toes and wrung his hands, his eyes glued to the fight. Fenris couldn’t see Varric, but he could hear the dwarf’s breaths echoing the fight. Each time Hawke leaped or the Arishok’s blades cut into the carpet where she had stood less than a second before or an arrow was knocked away or a spell merely glanced off of him, the dwarf took a ragged breath.

Then came the moment they had all been dreading, the reason their eyes had not strayed from the fight. Hawke’s heel caught on the carpet where one of the Arishok’s blades had pulled it up when he yanked it free. She didn’t fall, but she did falter, having been unable to see the uneven spot as she retreated backwards. But it was enough to give her enemy the opening he had thus far not been able to find.

She grunted when the blade sank into her belly and thrust through her back. She didn’t yell or cry or even drop her weapon. She was lifted up into the air, blood pouring from her wound onto the Arishok as he all but bathed in it. He grinned at her fiercely, certain in his victory, and Fenris became aware that he was shouting, his throat sore already from the sheer volume of his yell, when Aveline tugged at him sharply. Hawke looked over at him and he was stunned to see her smile at him. Her body had slid down the blade that had impaled her until she was resting at the hilt and she was already losing color from blood loss, but she smiled the same way she always did when she looked at him. He had hurt her, left her alone and devastated in the wake of their pleasure, and yet she never failed to give him that beautiful little smirk. It felt like a goodbye to see it from her now.

But it wasn’t the end.

Her proximity to the Arishok, achieved only through his assured victory, gave her the opening she needed. She hadn’t dropped her bow, and while her enemy was watching her face to see the light leave her eyes she drew the string back, an arrow still ready, and shot him point blank in the throat. Her magic flowed up the arrow shaft and froze his choked gurgle. Fenris could only see his profile, but his eyes widened in shock as his body fell limp, his life leeched away far more quickly than hers would. As he fell, so did she. He sprawled on his back, his weapons dropping. Hawke, still impaled on that damned sword, lay on her side and did not move for long moments.

The crowd of nobles rushed forward while Fenris was still rooted to the ground in shock and fear. Anders raced forward but was pushed back by the crowd. He growled in rage and began shoving his way through.

“I’m a healer!” he yelled. “Let me pass!” But the crowd would not. Fenris stalked forward, his lyrium flickering on his skin, pulsing like lightning and drawing attention.

“Move!” he bellowed, and the crowd parted in waves, their shouts dying into silence.

“Thank you,” Anders said over his shoulder as he raced to Hawke. Fenris was hot on his heels, needing to see her, to be near, to make sure she would live. He fell to his knees beside her as Anders assessed her wound. Her eyes were closed but her chest moved with shallow breaths; there was time.

“Hold her steady while I remove the blade,” Anders told him. He blinked stupidly, then gripped her shoulder tightly in one hand and pressed the other to her hip, holding her torso stationary. The wet, meaty sound of the blade slipping free of her flesh caused nausea to threaten, his last meal sitting in a lump in his throat. Behind him, Isabela choked on a sob and was soothed by Varric. The moment the blade was free Anders rolled her onto her back and poured his magic into her wound. Fenris lifted her head into his lap and cradled it, bending over her and rocking back and forth. He smoothed her hair out of her face, but he needed to feel her skin. The buckles on his gauntlets broke as he frantically pulled at them, but he didn’t care at all. He dropped them as soon as they were off and pressed his hands to her cheeks. Her skin was cool to the touch, an effect of blood loss, but the pulse in her neck remained. It was unsteady and weak, but it was there. She was too strong to die now. She had to be. He began to mutter in Tevene.

“Please, please, my love, stay with me. I need more time with you. I need a second chance to do things right.” He pressed a kiss to his wrist, where he’d tied the crimson ribbon that she’d worn in her hair the night they’d laid together. He had untied it carefully and gently slipped it free. Before he’d left he grabbed it, though he couldn’t say why. Ever since, he’d worn it on his wrist, never taking it off. She was never far from his thoughts. “You can’t die now. There’s so much left to do. I couldn’t bear it if you left now. You are strong, stronger than anyone I’ve ever met. Don’t go. Don’t leave me alone.”

Vaguely, he noticed Isabela fall to her knees beside Anders and take Hawke’s hand. She pressed it against her forehead, openly sobbing and babbling nearly incoherent apologies.

“Remember… Remember when we danced on the tables at the Hanged Man?” she muttered to Hawke. “I was so drunk I almost couldn’t stand up straight, but you always had more restraint than me. You’d only had half as much to drink, but you were right up there with me. You never made me feel like I had to change to be accepted by you. You always just take everyone as they come. Live and let live, you told me. And I’m so sorry.” She choked on a sob, then took a deep, shaking breath. “I’m so sorry I did this. I should have told you the truth from the start. We could have figured something out, avoided all of this. I’m so sorry I didn’t trust you. Don’t… Just don’t die.”

“You’re too stubborn to die,” he heard Aveline whisper somewhere behind him. “You won’t go now. You can’t. You survived the Blight and a witch-dragon and the journey here and the Deep Roads and countless attempts on your life. I always thought you’d live forever just to spite everyone. Prove me right, Hawke. Just this once. Please.”

“Come on, Hawke,” Varric murmured. “Your story isn’t over yet. I just know you have more crazy shenanigans in you. Let this be just one of a thousand stories I’ll tell about you someday, and not even the most interesting.”

Fenris brushed Hawke’s hair out of her face with gentle fingers, unable to stop touching her, as if his touch could anchor her in life. He looked up at Anders, hoping for good news, but the mage’s face was turning gray, deep shadows at the corners of his mouth and tension in every line of his body. Fenris pulled a lyrium potion off his belt, one of several that he always carried for Hawke since she frequently forgot them. He uncorked it and held it out to the mage, who looked at him with wide eyes, surprised. Fenris didn’t say anything. Needing both hands for the healing, Anders took the potion with his mouth and tilted his head back to drink the contents. When it was empty he let it fall beside him, where it shattered on the floor.

“Thank you,” he gasped, some color returning to his face, then returned his full attention to his patient.

Fenris knew, intellectually, that the healing couldn’t have taken more than fifteen minutes, but by the time Hawke’s breathing evened out and her heart steadied into a strong, sure beat and Anders all but collapsed beside her in exhaustion, he felt like it had been years. He pulled another lyrium potion off his belt because the mage looked like he was about to fall unconscious. He accepted the potion gratefully.

“Give her an elfroot potion, if you can get her to swallow it,” he said hoarsely before downing the potion he held. Fenris grabbed the elfroot potion off his belt and uncorked it with trembling fingers; if Hawke still needed a potion after the healing, it could only mean that she was still in danger. He held her head up with one hand and dripped a little of the potion into her mouth with the other. When she swallowed reflexively he breathed a sigh of relief and slowly fed her the potion until she’d taken the entire thing.

“Can we move her?” he asked, surprised when his voice sounded rough and his throat felt like sandpaper. Anders nodded wordlessly, and Fenris carefully lifted Hawke into his arms. He stood, and the others followed suit though Isabela still sobbed. They moved to leave, but Meredith and Orsino burst in just as they turned for the door.

“Is it over?” Meredith asked, looking around the room.

“She saved us!” the nobles cried.

“Hawke saved us all!”

“She’s a hero!”

“She’s a champion!”

“We all owe her our lives!”

Meredith was silent for a moment, her narrowed eyes fixed on the woman in Fenris’s arms, her small body limp against him and covered in blood.

“Does she live?” Meredith asked. Fenris nodded mutely. “Then it seems that Kirkwall has a new Champion.” She didn’t sound pleased, but Fenris couldn’t care less. All he wanted was to get Hawke home and clean and in bed where she could rest and recover. Meredith stepped out of the way and he walked past her. Orsino’s worried gaze followed them.

“Does she need a healer?” he asked. “I could-“

“No,” Fenris barked. He wouldn’t let strangers near her when she was vulnerable, especially not mages under Meredith’s thumb.

“I’ll take care of her,” Anders said, and though he sounded exhausted Orsino must have conceded because Fenris heard the mage’s steady footfalls right behind him, his boot heels striking the floor hard.

Everyone followed them to Hawke’s estate, though Aveline and Varric remained downstairs when Fenris took Hawke up to her room. Anders followed, and so did Isabela after a hesitation. Fenris laid her down carefully in her bed, then began to strip off her soiled armor. He wanted to bark at Anders and Isabela to leave while he changed her but he knew it was useless. Isabela helped him to lift Hawke’s prone form to make it easier to remove her clothing, and Anders was needed in case she required more healing. Isabela fetched a bowl of water and a pair of rags and the two of them carefully scrubbed away the blood. The top sheet had to be changed after that, and once it was done Isabela brought over clean smallclothes. Fenris scowled at her, but she rolled her eyes.

“I’ve slept with her, too,” she reminded him. “There’s nothing here that I haven’t already seen. Besides, this will be much easier with an extra pair of hands.”

“Fine,” he finally said. “Turn around, mage,” he barked at Anders, who grunted but complied. Once Hawke was wearing the clean smallclothes, he and Isabela tucked her under her blankets. Anders came over and washed her in magic, continuing to heal her. Fenris pulled up the chair that usually sat in front of the fireplace and sat beside the bed. He rested his chin on his hands and his elbows on his knees and watched. He didn’t notice when Isabela slipped away, but she was gone when Anders finally finished his spell. He felt the mage’s eyes on him, but he didn’t bother to meet the other man’s gaze.

“Are you staying?” Anders asked quietly.

“I will not be moved,” Fenris replied.

“Good,” Anders said, surprising him. “I’m going to rest downstairs. Call for me if anything happens.” Fenris nodded silently. Only once the door closed and he was alone with Hawke did he allow the tears the fall. Once they began, they didn’t stop for hours, or maybe days. Who could really say how much time passed as he watched Hawke breathe?

The door opened quietly and the footsteps of the intruder were soft and wary, which told him who it was without having to look. He didn’t know how long he’d sat there, only that the light under the curtains was gone again. He hadn’t slept, still afraid that she’d slip away if he took his eyes off her.

“Messere?” Orana said quietly. “I brought you some food.” He heard her set a tray on the nightstand beside him. “It’s been a day and you haven’t moved.”

“I’m not hungry,” he said brusquely, hoping she’d leave. She was silent for a beat and he wondered if perhaps he’d been too harsh.

“Just some water, then?” she whispered. “Please, messere, she won’t want you to neglect yourself.” Fenris turned to her, scowl in place and biting words on his tongue, but he cut himself off when he saw her wide eyes, red rimmed from crying, and the concern she showed for him. He let out the breath he would have used to yell at her in a sigh. None of this was her fault. She was only trying to help in the only way she knew. She didn’t deserve his wrath and Hawke would be livid if he upset her. Orana was very precious to her and he suspected that the former slave somehow reminded her of her sister, though since he’d never met the other Hawke he couldn’t say how.

“Some water would be nice,” he finally said, his voice hoarse from disuse. He picked up the glass from the tray beside him and drank most of it without even stopping to breathe. He gasped slightly, feeling better already. “Thank you,” he told her softly. She smiled and nodded, pouring more water into the glass from the pitcher she’d brought up. Then she left.

Light was peeking out from beneath the curtains again when Hawke finally stirred. Fenris was instantly alert, his reverie broken. He sat forward in his chair and nearly grabbed her hand before he stopped himself. Hawke took a deep breath and let it out on a groan, then opened her eyes. When her gaze met his, she blinked in confusion, then smiled and allowed her eyes to slide shut again.

“How long?” she asked, her voice a hoarse croak. Fenris grabbed the water glass and held it for her to drink from.

“I’m… not sure,” he said as she drank. “A day, maybe?”

Hawke emptied the glass quickly and he reached for the pitcher to refill it. “You’re not sure?” she asked. She managed to bring a hand up to the glass but she didn’t have the strength to hold it so he pressed it to her lips.

“I haven’t left the room,” he admitted softly. Her eyes widened as they met his over the rim of the glass, but she preferred to drink rather than answer and he was grateful. She drank most of the second glass of water before she was done.

“How are you feeling?” he asked her, shifting uncomfortably. He didn’t deserve to sit vigil for her like a lover. He’d hurt her in this very room. Though she’d accepted his company when her mother died, had cried in his arms for hours, she had sent him away once the tears dried. She had every right to be furious with him and he deserved whatever retribution she could dream up, yet she had never once lashed out at him. He didn’t deserve her.

“That’s a stupid question,” she said with a grimace. “I feel like I got impaled by a Qunari. Oh, wait. I did get impaled by a Qunari. Bad comparison.” Fenris chuckled and struggled not to fall into hysterics. His relief that she was awake, that she’d be alright, was powerful and left him feeling lightheaded. He leaned his head in his hands and just breathed for long moments. When he looked up again, her eyes were glued to the crimson ribbon on his wrist. He paused, certain for a moment that she was going to demand he give it back and unreasonably terrified by that prospect. She said nothing, however, and he unfroze when her gaze slid away. He wasn’t sure what it meant.

“I’ll get Anders,” he finally said, though the idea of sending the abomination to her while he retreated made him want to retch. “He’ll want to know you’ve awakened.”

“Fenris,” she said, and her voice stopped him. He looked at her, her icy blue gaze sending spears of relief and guilt into his heart in equal measures. “Thank you for watching over me.” He almost broke down sobbing as she offered him a weak smile, but managed to keep his composure long enough to nod and stand, though he wavered on his feet, and go downstairs and rouse Anders from his sleep on the couch in front of the fire and send him up to her. He held in his emotions as he left Hawke’s estate and returned to the run down old mansion that he had been squatting in since the night he met her. The moment the door was shut and locked behind him, however, he felt the tears fall. His leaned against the door and slid down to sit on the floor, weak and shaking with relief.

Hawke would live. That was all that mattered. He had time now. He had the opportunity to find some way to make it up to her. He only needed to find a way. And even if she never forgave him, at least she would live and laugh again. He would rip his own heart out of his chest to hear her laugh again.

#katalyna writes #f!hawke/fenris #fenhawke #dragon age #dragon age 2 #ueue wait your turn

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