#justice positive

[azurechicken]

It always gets me how Justice did not change at all, like, he is not corrupted at all. It makes everything more tragic than it already is. The only thing that changed was his perception, which of course, naturally came due to the change of hosts. I'm mostly taking Awakening Justice into account and how he acts because that is where we can carefully observe him by himself, without Anders' influence on the matter. And his influence is everything on the point I am trying to make.

When we first meet Justice, he is fulfilling his nature of bringing justice to the people he thinks that need it. He is very outspoken about it, and is already ready to take action with or without Warden's help. For a supposedly peaceful spirit that Anders claims to have ruined with his anger, Justice is acting pretty angry here himself (This is not the only time either). This is one of the first things I want to point out that did not change much about the spirit. Justice was always fierce about his cause. However, what stands out to me in these scenes is when the witch calls him out on his idea of justice.

Justice, is that what you are calling it? What of their punishment, burning my house to the ground and with me in it?

Well, in this case, the witch is a demon and mocking Justice for funsies. But what she says actually gives a bit more insight about what kind of a spirit Justice is. The actions do not speak louder than intent to him, as long as it is within the lines he set for himself. In a way, he was always okay with a few… casualties in the name of justice. Even though it is as simple as burning down a house this time. Isn't violence for violence vengeance after all?

While we are on the topic of vengeance, let's not forget the way he is eager on avenging Kristoff, vowing to kill every darkspawn for his cause (I mean the way he literally calls it avenging is enough debate for some people but I want to continue). So how come wanting to take revenge on the offenders that wronged not only his host but many other people, is any different? How did this route did not take him to the road of vengeance but attacking the templars, who are also offenders that wronged his host and other people, is corrupting him?

The answer is of course, that it is not, it did not. There is no difference between those two for Justice, there is no difference between vengeance and justice. Punishing the ones who deserve it is all there is. There is no gray area for spirits the way there is in the mortal world, and we see this clearly in the way he judges Velanna and Nathaniel for their crimes. Despite what I said about him seeing intent before action, now he cannot see beyond their wrongs. This simply shows that if the intent is as clear as violence for violence, he understands. But he does not understand the gray area of Velanna mistaking the innocents as guilty, or Nathaniel taking back what used to be already his.

 

There might be none for Justice, but there is a difference between darkspawn and templars for mortals. For one, darkspawn are generally mindless, and has no moral compass for us to judge. Whereas templars are just people with different ideals about life, to put it kindly at least. (Which is worse, being a mindless cruel monster, or having the mind and morals to choose to be something else but going for being one anyway? Lol another discussion for another time). Templars are the gray area that Justice lacks the understanding of. When he vows to kill every templar like he did with the darkspawn, he does not suddenly turn into a demon, he is simply punishing the ones that were doing wrong, as he does.

From here we can say that spirits' judgments and mortal's don't exactly match up. Though, there is one idea that seems to match better than others, and that is corruption. As far as we learn from Justice, spirits do not know about corruption any better than we do. Spirit do bad, spirit go bad, right? So, when Justice starts to feel things that are associated with demons, such as envy, he starts to fear corruption. He says he does not want to learn how a demon feels, but he also states that he does see the wishful thinking of a demon wanting to cross the Veil for this world. He is conflicted at best about the whole thing. Still, he does not consider himself corrupted regardless. I think that the reason behind that is simply the fact that generally, the Warden can ease his worries when Justice confides in them. And that is another thing that says a bit about him. He seems to accept the lack of understanding he has in the world, and chooses to listen to someone who does. Though, not just a random anybody, someone he deemed just.

So, let's see. A fade spirit with identity issues and an anxious spirit healer walks into a bar…

When they merged and Justice accepted Anders' cause for himself, and when they went all crazy on the Templars, Anders was scared. He feared the worst immediately because he is taught the worst about possession. He knew that Justice was angry because of him and his ideals about mages. So he blamed himself, called it a corruption he caused. And as I mentioned, Justice is accepting of the fact that he has a lack of understanding of some things. Plus, he was already scared of corruption. So, when Anders, who is an educated mage about possessions and corruption claims that he is slowly corrupting the spirit, they held onto it.

Everyone in their life from this point on, do nothing but egg them on about it, on top of it all. They might not corrupt each other, but everyone else does by pushing them the idea that they are now an abomination. Anders starts to fear the nonexistent corruption more, and Justice is confusing the inability to just wipe all the bad out with sloth. We are talking about a being who comes from the Fade, which can be bent at will and a place of immediate action. This works well in Awakening because we are already fighting darkspawn nonstop, and we are in the middle of a war. But in Kirkwall? Everything requires planning and suspended ideals. Templars bring injustice everywhere they go, yet there is not much they can do. After many years of being held back, it is no wonder Justice is surfacing more and more, itching to fulfill his purpose. Because he was always outspoken, angry at the injustice in the world and eager to bring justice. He did not change, but Anders' morals and his' just did not align the way they thought it would. They forgot that in Justice, there was always a part that was vengeance.

At the end, Justice was one of the most stable parts of Anders' story. He couldn't count his vow in Awakening complete without reaching the root of the problem, which was the broodmother. And he could not do so in Kirkwall without getting rid of the Chantry. Because chantry is the root of the Templars, and being a bystander while you can help solve everything easily is unjust all the same.

Anders and Justice had the same cause, different morality and they were just confused because they didn't know any better.

[bluerose5]

For Old Times' Sake

Pairings: Anders(+Justice)/Male Hawke/Nathaniel Howe

Rating: M

Word Count: 6,912

Summary: After helping Nathaniel out in the Deep Roads, he and Anders have a lot to catch up on, but Garrett Hawke isn't the slightest bit deterred by the history between them.

AO3 Link. Along with links to posts from deedeemactir and zevsurana that inspired certain parts/headcanons mentioned in this fic. :D

...

Garrett kept a close eye on Nathaniel Howe.

Not that he did anything untoward, nor did Garrett think him to be a suspicious sort. On the contrary, he seemed reliable enough, and he definitely piqued the Champion's interest. 

On their way out of the Deep Roads, Garrett fell back to walk at Anders' side. They took up the rear with Fenris and Varric a few paces in front of them, Nathaniel and Carver taking the lead. Aside from Garrett, they thought it best to keep the Wardens positioned in the outer ranks to lessen the others’ chances of coming into contact with tainted blood, should the darkspawn attack again.

With Nathaniel and Anders being more attuned to the darkspawn taint than Carver, they were pretty certain that the coast was clear, but better to be safe than sorry, they said.

Garrett chose to ease his way back to Anders’ side, despite his warning stare.

“You’re supposed to be with the others,” Anders said in place of a greeting, his brow furrowed in concern.

Snorting, Garrett wrapped an arm around his waist, which almost instantly sapped Anders of all that tension.

“Perhaps, but I trust my handsome Grey Warden to come to my rescue at the first sign of trouble.”

“Is that so?” Anders asked, amused. “Also, technically, I’m your former Grey Warden. You know that.”

“I’m trying to paint a heroic picture here, my love.”

“Fair enough.”

They exchanged a warm smile.

After a moment, Garrett cleared his throat.

“So…” He trailed off, his expression sly. “Nathaniel, huh?”

Anders raised a brow at him in turn.

“What about him?” he said, but Garrett was far from oblivious, noting how he shuffled against his side.

“If I didn’t know any better,” he said, lowering his voice to a mere whisper, “I would think that you like Nathaniel.” He shrugged. “Or maybe Justice does. Or both of you.”

Anders gaped at the suggestion.

“I, uh—” He coughed, suddenly unable to meet his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Uh-huh.” Garrett smirked. “Then why are you blushing?”

Without thinking, Anders smacked a hand up to his cheek, which was indeed warm to the touch, but he wouldn’t give Garrett the satisfaction of being right.

“I am not!” he objected.

“Of course not.”

Before they could devolve into a bickering mess, Nathaniel called back to the group, "We see the exit! Just ahead!"

"Oh, thank the Maker," Varric groaned. "Fresh air! And my feet are killing me!"

"Did you complain this much on the actual expedition, dwarf?" Fenris muttered.

"Before or after my brother's infamous betrayal?" he questioned, then continued on before he could get a word in. "Tell you what, I'll go ahead and save you the time of responding to that. The answer to both is yes."

Well, at least he was honest.

With a roll of his eyes, Garrett gave a fond shake of his head.

Their group made a beeline for the exit, but their return trip was only just beginning.

As expected, Carver turned to bid the group farewell, never one to linger long those days.

Despite their earlier exchange underground, Garrett immediately released his hold on Anders to approach Carver instead, wrapping him up in a tight embrace, no hesitation whatsoever. Carver had to stoop over just to reach his short, big brother. His arms hovered in the air for a split second before he returned the hug in kind.

"Must you leave so soon?" Garrett murmured. "It's always so good to see you. Makes everything feel better, if only for a moment."

Carver buried his face into his hair, releasing a shaky breath.

"You know I can't," he said. "I need to report back."

Eventually, with great effort, he pried Garrett away. His hands remained fixed upon his shoulders, keeping him at arm's length.

Garrett swallowed thickly.

"Yeah," he whispered. "Alright. Just—Just stay safe, you hear? Be careful."

Carver spared him a smile.

"Always am, but you do the same. Don't go setting the city aflame again anytime soon, alright?"

Garrett chuckled.

"I'll try my best."

Once he departed, Garrett turned to the others. Rather than linger on their sympathetic looks, he addressed Nathaniel directly.

"What about you?" he asked, head cocked to the side. "How long are you sticking around these parts? Or do you have some urgent Grey Warden business to attend to as well?"

Nathaniel shrugged.

"I'm going to send my report to the Commander. Then, I—"

"The Commander?" Anders narrowed his eyes at that. "I thought you were here on the First Warden's orders."

"I am," Nathaniel answered, a bit too quickly, but it didn't take a genius to catch how defensive he was. "The First Warden ordered the investigation, but is it so bad that Darrian wants to keep tabs on the rest of us? After everything we've been through?"

"He doesn't keep tabs on me," Anders pointed out, trying his best not to feel insulted by that fact, but ultimately failing.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Nathaniel scoffed.

"So far as you know," Nathaniel retorted. "Do you honestly believe that one of the Kings of Ferelden, that the Hero of Ferelden himself, couldn't track you down if he wanted?"

"Well, he certainly hasn't reached out to me at all, if that was the case," Anders stated, bitter.

Nathaniel bristled at his tone.

Garrett exchanged a wary glance with the others.

Maybe it would be best to intervene somehow.

"Hey, now, guys, let's just—"

Both of them snapped their heads to the side in tandem, glaring at the intrusion.

"Stay out of it!" they snapped.

Garrett threw his hands up in surrender.

"Staying out of it," he agreed.

"You want to know why the rest of us haven't contacted you over the years?" Nathaniel spat.

"Enlighten me," Anders sneered.

"Because you left, just as you always do," Nathaniel stated, jabbing a finger in his direction. "Instead of going to Commander Tabris, instead of coming to me when you had trouble with the Wardens, you left!" Drained of what energy he had left from their excursion, he pursed his lips, his expression hurt. "I didn't even get a goodbye. Then again, should I have expected anything else? Our beloved Anders, always the escape artist." 

When he didn't respond, Nathaniel took a deep breath, staring off into the distance, his jaw clenched.

"I wanted to contact you, but Darrian insisted that we give you your space. He didn't want you to feel coerced to stay. Maker, you know that he barely keeps his ties to the Wardens as is. He was trying to be understanding of what you wanted."

"Then why even bother sending you out here in the first place?" Anders countered. "Obviously, the First Warden is only an excuse, so what's out here that Darrian would be interested in? Why send you out to the Free Marches? This area isn't under his command."

Nathaniel snuck a glance at the others, who quickly averted their eyes. Fenris picked at his nails while Varric whistled an all-too-innocent tune, and Garrett busied himself by simply drawing patterns in the dirt with the tip of his shoe.

Overall, quite the convincing performance.

Shifting his attention back to Anders, Nathaniel chewed on the inside of his cheek.

"Darrian asked that I come as a favor to him while he was stuck dealing with the nobility in Ferelden," he explained. "After your expedition, word quickly spread throughout the Grey Wardens' ranks. Darrian wanted to get ahead of this before too many people got involved, before the sites were trampled over in the Wardens' search for darkspawn and riches."

"What were you looking for, if not that?" Anders asked.

His answer knocked the air out of Anders, left him winded like a punch to the gut.

"A cure."

Anders dared not hope.

"A cure for the taint?" he questioned, needing to clarify for certain.

Nathaniel nodded.

"Did you find anything?" Garrett said, unable to contain his curiosity after such a revelation.

"Not a definite answer," Nathaniel told him, "but I have another lead at least."

Garrett couldn't hide his slight disappointment, mostly for Anders' sake, but then he perked up again. He smacked Varric on the shoulder.

"Hey! Didn't Merrill's mirror have the Blight? She cleansed it with blood magic, right?" At the scrunched-up looks on Anders' and Fenris' faces, Garrett snapped his mouth shut. "Just a thought!"

"One that is worth further investigation at the very least, even if nothing comes of it," Nathaniel agreed. "Perhaps I should meet with your friend, though, this Merrill."

"Such mighty heroes of legend, willing to resort to blood magic so easily," Fenris said, the sarcasm almost palpable in his voice.

"We are no heroes," Nathaniel replied, "yet our Order has saved the world many times over, having committed much worse acts than a bit of blood magic in the name of the greater good. Keep that in mind before you judge us."

That being said, he presented an offer to Anders, a futile one, but he wanted to extend it nonetheless.

His expression softened, watching him tenderly.

"We could always use the extra hands, if you're ever interested."

"So could I," Anders countered. "Nathaniel, I can only fight one battle at a time, and the mages here need my help."

"Huh. Interesting."

"What?"

"You never used to be all that interested in the mages' struggles before. What changed?"

"You mean he wasn't always like this?" Fenris muttered to Varric.

"Hard to imagine," Varric said, incredulous.

Anders scowled at them both. 

"Believe it or not, but I did always care in a way, no matter what was said in the past," he explained to all of them. "The thing was, I was powerless on my own. I didn't know where to even start. It was so much easier to turn a blind eye and look out for myself as I always did. It was easier to convince myself that I didn't care than it was to give a shit. It's not easy to have to fight tooth and nail every day to even dream about making a dent in our current system, let alone make the drastic changes that I and so many others envision."

Anders took a deep breath. Already, he could feel Justice simmering at the surface of his skin. His presence made his teeth tingle, but he wasn't ready to have that particular conversation with Nathaniel just yet.

For now, they reined themselves in.

"So, yeah," Anders stated, "a lot has changed."

"That, it has," Nathaniel said, "but my offer remains open." He paused, hesitant, wistful almost. "I don't begrudge you the life that you have built here. I merely wish that things could have been different."

The tension thickened around them, so much so that it clung to the air, but Garrett was optimistic. He wanted to reach out to them both, to bridge the sudden gap left between them.

“Well, surely you don’t have to leave so soon, do you, Nathaniel?” Garrett asked. He approached him, stepping between him and Anders, his hands on his hips with a playful smirk. “Why not stay and catch up? Preferably with less friction, of course.”

Surprised by the offer, Nathaniel blinked owlishly at him.

“I don’t know…” He trailed off, casting a glance in Anders’ direction, uncertain. “I wouldn’t wish to intrude.”

“Nonsense!” Garrett exclaimed. “Besides, you can’t just leave without having a Wicked Grace night at The Hanged Man. It’s the crown jewel of Kirkwall!”

“You don’t say,” Nathaniel hummed.

Of course, Nathaniel had been to Kirkwall before, The Hanged Man included, but he didn't want to dampen Garrett’s mood, his excitement contagious.

“I’m, uh, pretty sure that he’s busy, love,” Anders chided.

“Not too busy,” Nathaniel assured him. “After I send off my reports, all I had planned was to meet up with Sigrun in the Deep Roads.”

“You know, you could always talk to Daisy at The Hanged Man later as well,” Varric suggested.

“Daisy?”

“Merrill,” Garrett clarified.

“Ah, okay.” After thinking it over, Nathaniel shifted in place. “If it’s alright with you, Anders.”

His response was instant, bordering on defensive.

“Yeah, of course, do what you want.” He snorted. “Why would it be a problem?”

“Beats me,” Fenris deadpanned, ignoring Anders’ glare.

“In that case,” Nathaniel said, “I could always make time for a round of drinks.”

“With that kind of talk, perhaps you’ve been spending too much time with Oghren," Anders teased.

"In spite of one's best efforts, that dwarf does tend to rub off on you in one way or another."

Garrett smiled.

"Shall we get going then?" he asked. He stopped to wrinkle his nose at the state of his armor, pinching at the fine leather. "I don't know about the rest of you, though, but I could use a bath —or seven— before we go to Wicked Grace night."

Fenris and Varric grimaced at the reminder.

"Yeah, I think I'll head to the mansion first when we get back, then meet the rest of you there," Fen agreed. "Blighted Deep Roads."

"I'll be scrubbing the stench out for weeks," Varric complained with a pout. "This is my favorite coat."

"Doesn't look much different than the others."

"Thanks for the support, Hawke. It means a lot."

"Always happy to be of service," he laughed. "Nathaniel! Feel free to come by our estate before we go." He emphasized the offer with a hand upon Anders' shoulder, giving it a pointed squeeze. "I'm sure we could find something your size in Anders' or even some of Carver's old clothes."

"Tempting as that is, I think I should really check in with Delilah first," he sighed. "She'll have some of my belongings with her, at least, but I'll definitely head your way before we set out to The Hanged Man."

"Sounds like a plan."

Fenris rolled his eyes at them while Varric shook his head in amusement, undoubtedly jotting down mental notes on how best to spin this scenario for his stories.

As they started on the trek back to Kirkwall, Anders tugged Garrett to his side with a hiss.

"I know what you're doing."

"What?" Garrett asked, feigning innocence. His eyes widened, but that goofy grin of his remained in place. "What am I supposedly doing?"

"You…" Anders huffed. "You're being all friendly and what-not with Nathaniel."

"Oh, that?" Garrett shrugged, but his expression quickly shifted to one of concern. "I mean, if you want me to stop, just say the word."

Good question. Did Anders want him to stop?

"No," he decided, "it's not that." He waved away any worries he might have. "Nate's a big boy. If he's not comfortable with anything you say or do, he'll tell you himself."

"Good to know," Garrett said, "but he's 'Nate' now, huh?"

"We've known each other for a while now," Anders grumbled. "What about it?"

"Nothing." Garrett slipped free from his grasp with a mischievous wink. "Nothing at all."

He strolled up to Nathaniel's side while they walked, Fenris on the other.

Varric settled for a slower pace instead, settling in next to Anders.

While Garrett and Fenris talked with Nathaniel about almost anything and everything —from his life in Ferelden to his time in the Free Marches to his service under the Warden-Commander— Varric struck up a conversation of his own with Anders. He discussed his latest ideas on how to strengthen the protection around the clinic, especially with the templars so active as of late.

Anders nodded here and there, made the occasional noise of agreement, but the majority of his attention was devoted to watching the others, Garrett and Nathaniel specifically.

He simply couldn't look away.

The way they joked and laughed together was a sight to behold, Garrett being the more open and expressive of the two while Nathaniel relied upon his sarcasm and wit.

It didn't help that Garrett was so free with his affection and interest. He definitely cut back on flirting with others since he and Anders entered into a relationship, understandably so, but there was no denying how his body kept gravitating towards Nathaniel while they walked, how he shifted much closer than the careful distance that Fenris kept. Touches and glimpses alike lingered, but Anders found it even more fascinating when Nathaniel started to return that attention in kind.

Unlike the times when others amongst their inner circle made advances towards Garrett, Anders didn't feel that sharp, burning spike of jealousy rear its ugly head again.

No, instead, he felt entranced.

Butterflies fluttered in his stomach. His heart raced. His pulse pounded.

Swallowing thickly, he felt Justice stir at the growing intensity of his emotions.

Varric snapped his fingers at him, startling Anders out of his sudden daze.

"Hey!" Varric said. "Are you even listening to me, Blondie?"

“Wha— Oh, yeah! Of course I was!”

“Uh-huh, sure…” Trailing off, Varric raised an eyebrow at him, unconvinced. “What was I just talking about then?”

“Er, stuff?”

“What sort of stuff?”

“The stuff you talk about when you’re Varric Tethras,” Anders said, “because I was definitely listening.”

“Hey, now, was that a joke? Not from our Anders, no. Someone alert the Chantry!”

“Let’s not and say we did.”

Varric hummed in contemplation, following his earlier line of sight with ease.

“Taking in the view?” he asked. Nodding ahead at Hawke and company, he gave Anders a pointed nudge with his elbow. “Or are you concerned because your boyfriend and your ex are getting along so well?”

“Something like that.”

In all honesty, he was more so surprised by how much it didn’t bother him.

The rest of their return trip passed by with idle chatter, Anders deep in thought.

Once they arrived, everyone went their separate ways. Garrett and Anders made their way to the estate, hand-in-hand, their arms swinging slightly between them.

After greeting Bodahn and the others, they retreated to their room, where Garrett drew them a bath, heating it up to a steaming temperature with his magic. From there, they shed their clothes and set them aside to be cleaned later, the exhaustion from their journey finally catching up to them.

For a moment, they let all their worries fade away into the background.

They washed one another. Reverent touches lingered while they exchanged soft kisses here and there, smiling against each other’s lips. Their hands explored their bodies. Slowly but surely, they wiped away all the dirt and grime that remained until they both were clean.

Then, as they dried off, they whispered sweet nothings against each other’s skin, flushed with warmth.

Dressed in loose shirts and form-fitting pants, they finished getting ready for the evening ahead of them. Anders left his hair down without a care in the world, but he spent more than his fair share of time combing through Garrett’s thick curls for him. He parted his hair, section by section, and took great care when he encountered any particular tangles that made him wince.

Once Garrett was satisfied with the end result, he tied his hair back out of his face, huffing at the few stubborn strands that remained in his eyes.

Together, they trudged down the stairs and into the library.

They sat in front of the fire, leaning into each other’s side.

"You know," Garrett eventually said, "speaking with Nathaniel made me realize that you don't talk much about your time with the Wardens, even now."

Anders shrugged dismissively.

"There's not much to say, in all honesty," he sighed. In the distance, he could hear the front door open as Bodahn greeted their guest. "There were some good times in Amaranthine, I must admit, but we saw just as many unspeakable horrors during our stay there." Even now, he shuddered to think about it. To take his mind off of the memories, he leaned in to whisper to Garrett conspiratorially. "Plus, that Anders, let me tell you. I hear that he was quite an insufferable ass."

Garrett barked out a laugh at that, genuinely caught off guard.

"No, you don't say!" He gasped, then abruptly stopped, giving Anders a swift once-over. "Well, at least nothing has changed much in that regard." When Anders scowled at him, Garrett was quick to backtrack. "Kidding, kidding!"

Nathaniel laughed as he entered the room, attracting their attention.

"Heh, I see why you kept this one around, Anders. He's quite the jokester. Like a certain someone," he added, sitting next to them on the floor, his legs crossed out in front of him. "Unlike you, however, he's actually funny."

Garrett beamed at that, as if he received the highest praise imaginable.

"You hear that, my dear?" Garrett bragged. "Nathaniel thinks that I am funny."

"Yes, love," Anders said, "I heard. Although, I wish I hadn't. Your ego is already big enough without the extra encouragement."

When he pouted, Nathaniel grinned at them, leaning his weight back onto his hands.

Anders tried not to stare too much, but that was easier said than done. Gone were the dirt and carnage from their earlier ventures. Gone was the Grey Warden armor he once wore. In its place, he donned a dark blue shirt with a deep, plunging neckline, crafted from the finest silk. His chest hair was on display, the view tantalizing enough to give even Varric a run for his money. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing the musculature of his forearms, only a teasing glimpse of the full picture.

Black pants hugged the shape of his legs. Each shift caused the fabric to pull a little taut around his hips and thighs, the ends tucked neatly into a pair of leather boots.

Of course, if Anders was being even the slightest bit open about his appreciation, then that meant that Garrett was practically undressing Nathaniel with his eyes.

Not that Nathaniel did anything to discourage such attention, his expression smug, almost challenging as he met their eyes.

"So…" Nathaniel watched them both, lips parted. "You were talking about Amaranthine?"

Instantly, Garrett perked up, eager to know more.

"What was it like," he asked, "working with the Hero of Ferelden?"

"About as exciting as it would be to work with the Champion of Kirkwall on a daily basis, I'd imagine," Nathaniel answered. "And, from what I gathered, the crew you gathered around you is just as… unique as ours was back then."

"Yeah, that's an understatement," Anders snorted. "Although, speaking of…"

Garrett and Nathaniel glanced at him questioningly.

Despite his better judgment, he decided to ask anyway.

"How are they?"

Nathaniel thought that over for a moment, humming to himself in contemplation.

"Well, to start, I bet you'd love an update on the most important, littlest man in your life." At Anders' confused look, Nathaniel clarified. "Ser Pounce-a-lot is living a life of luxury, you know."

Oh, how Anders' heart absolutely melted at that news!

"His cat?" Garrett asked.

"The very one."

"He's still alive and kicking?" Anders laughed. "Not that I should have expected any less."

"Well, he's getting up in age; but, when Darrian heard the Wardens tried to take him away, he was upset to say the least. Brought him back to the royal palace, where his grandmother takes care of him. Last I heard, he lives the life of a spoiled mouser."

"Glad to hear it," Anders whispered, his body light with relief, as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

"As for our dearest Commander, well, I told you quite a bit already." Nathaniel shrugged. "King of Ferelden is the most recent update. Searching for a cure. Although, if you're more interested in the mage side of things, I hear that he and King Alistair have secured the Circle's independence in Ferelden. Apparently, they're working on implementing a different system instead."

"The College of Enchanters," Garrett whispered, and Anders hated it, how they felt the need to hide this, even in their own home. "My father had contacts in the Mages' Collective there that I still maintain. They hope that The College will serve as a template for other nations, that it'll be the first of its kind."

Anders could see how Garrett fidgeted with his hands, how he struggled to contain himself, how his dark brown eyes lit up in excitement.

"They say that they're offering refuge to apostates fleeing the Circle as well, those from Circles outside of Ferelden."

"The Mage Underground has actually confirmed that rumor," Anders stated. "They issued a royal decree stating that they will 'uphold the personal freedoms of any apostate seeking sanctuary in Ferelden, unless their presence is deemed a direct, unprovoked threat to the lives of others.' They're also refusing to aid the templars in any current hunts for mages at the moment."

"Interesting times that we live in," Nathaniel said. "It certainly won't win Darrian any points with the more Chantry-centric nobles still stuck in their ways, but I trust that he can handle it."

"If anyone could do it, it's him," Anders agreed. "But what about the others?"

"Ah, yes. Them. Now, let me see, let me see," Nathaniel continued, deep in thought. "Oghren is still Oghren, still a little smelly—"

"A little?" Anders interrupted, but Nathaniel kept on going as if he didn't even hear him.

"—still drinking his days away, but he has been more involved with his family, so I'll give him that. Velanna is, well…" Nathaniel grimaced. "She's still missing. No body was ever found in the Keep after the battle all those years ago. Darrian seems convinced that she somehow escaped and that she went into the Deep Roads to find her sister."

"I might not know this Velanna personally, but if it meant getting my sister back, I know that I would brave the Deep Roads and so much more for the chance," Garrett said, wistful.

"Had it been my sister, I wouldn't have hesitated," Nathaniel agreed, then cleared his throat. "Right, so Sigrun then? She's as cheerful as always. She's been leading multiple expeditions into the Deep Roads, sometimes for the Wardens, sometimes for the Legion, or even a mixture of both from time to time. Every now and then, she'll return to the Keep, but she keeps herself plenty busy, so she usually doesn't stay too long."

Nathaniel stared off into the flames of the crackling fire nearby, and that was when Anders suddenly realized that there was one last person for Nate to mention, a sinking feeling settling hard in his stomach like a rock.

"As for Justice, I don't know." Nathaniel rubbed at the back of his neck. "We heard from Aura that Kristoff's body was returned to her."

Anders stiffened at the all-too-familiar names, an echo of sorrow lingering from memories that were both his yet somehow not as well. A dizzying sensation followed, his head spinning as it struggled to keep up.

Confused, Garrett furrowed his brow at them, glancing between the two.

"Other than that?" Nathaniel shrugged. "Beats me. Maybe he returned to the Fade."

"To the Fade…?" Garrett narrowed his eyes at him, but Anders didn't get a chance to stop him before he rambled on. "You do mean our Justice, right? The one currently possessi—" Realization dawned on him then. "Wait, you don't know?"

With a groan, Anders dragged his hand down his face. He could already feel a headache coming on, a dull pain slowly spreading at his temple.

"Way to go, love," he praised, sarcasm thick in his voice. "Very smooth delivery there, I must say."

"Well," Garrett huffed, "how was I supposed to know that you didn't tell him?"

"Didn't tell me what, exactly?" Nathaniel asked, staring them down. "Anders, what is he talking about?"

Going back and forth on how to put it, Anders eventually decided that the time for subtlety was long gone.

With a deep, bracing breath, he closed his eyes and blurted out, "Justice and I are one!"

He peeked an eye open when Nathaniel didn't respond at first, the latter opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water, struggling to find the right words.

"Okay," he eventually said, slow and even. "I think I'll need you to clarify on that one for me."

"Ugh." Anders ran his fingers through his hair, sank his teeth into his bottom lip before releasing it. "I am his living vessel, and he is currently possessing me, for lack of better words."

"You're doing great," Garrett told him. Anders wrinkled his nose at him.

After a moment, Nathaniel sat up a bit straighter, giving Anders his full attention.

"Would it be too much to ask how this happened?"

No, it wouldn't be, but it took Anders several minutes to sift through two sets of memories, recollections of the same events but viewed from different angles.

Eventually, he spoke.

"It started when Darrian began to venture out more on his own. Not that I blame him for what happened, but he was the force keeping everything in order at the Keep. You, Sigrun, and Oghren were in the Deep Roads at the time, I believe. I stayed behind with Justice to help train some new recruits, mostly the mages, the younger ones who needed more guidance than most. I loved that."

Anders smiled.

"Back then, I always put on this air of indifference, but the truth was that I loved feeling like I was a part of something bigger, that I made a difference. Justice knew that." He laughed underneath his breath with a shake of his head. "He always did see right through me."

How quickly his smile fell, his jaw clenched tight.

"But without Darrian there to oversee matters personally, the Wardens became less selective in their recruitment process. They were simply trying to ride the wave of success after the Fifth Blight. Their goal was to recruit as many people as they could, as quickly as possible."

"Yeah, I remember," Nathaniel whispered. "When we returned, I remember thinking that a lot of those new recruits were definitely a handful."

And that was saying something, considering how he joined.

"That's putting it lightly," Anders grumbled. "Among the latest group at the time was Rolan, a former templar in name only." 

"He was still taking orders from them?" Garrett asked.

"I know for certain that he was. After all, it was quite the coincidence that Ser Rylock and the other templars who opposed my Conscription grew silent the second he showed up." Anders sneered. "He wasn't one of mine to train. He was more seasoned than most who joined, but he made it his sole purpose to watch my every move, to follow my every step. It didn't take long before his presence started to affect me, so Justice took to my side, day in and day out. He'd watch over me while I slept, chased Rolan off when he lingered. In that time, we talked more, grew closer…"

Anders swallowed thickly.

"He would talk me down when I panicked. He was there when the nightmares became more frequent, more intense." He refused to look at either of them for a moment, his gaze distant. "I wasn't taking care of myself, and Justice knew that I was about to make a run for it. Out of self-preservation, if nothing else. But Justice saw an opportunity for us both. We liked each other. We worked well together, and his days were numbered in Kristoff's body. He wouldn't hold on forever. He wouldn't put Aura through that."

Garrett took Anders' hand in his with a reassuring squeeze.

Blue light flooded through their veins. Web-like cracks split open their skin, their eyes glowing bright.

"We will never feel so powerless again," they stated. The power of the Fade resonated through their voice. "We swore then that we wouldn't stop until all mages live free of the fear and oppression they suffer under the Chantry's rule."

Nathaniel considered that, cautious to approach at first, but then he shifted closer.

He placed a hand upon their shoulder.

"Justice," he said, "what happened?"

"When I left Kristoff's body to join with Anders, Rolan rallied other templars and wardens against us. They called us an abomination, and then they attacked." They could recall each second with perfect clarity. "Being attacked so soon, when we had only just merged in such a way, made the transition messy."

They lifted up their shirt to reveal the large, jagged scar over their chest, its corresponding match on their back. 

"The templar tried to run us through. He did run us through, and so we tore his head clean from his body," they stated it so matter-of-factly, not even bothering to deny the horrors they inflicted during that first day together. "Everything was a blur. We wanted to make them pay for what they did to us. And by the time we regained our senses, we were all alone, surrounded by bodies torn to shreds, blood on our hands and our teeth."

Garrett brushed his fingers along the scar.

"That's how this happened," he murmured, right as Justice let the fabric fall back into place. "You never mentioned it, but I didn't want to pry either."

"We don't exactly have fond memories of being stabbed," Justice noted.

"I can't imagine why," Nathaniel said, but guilt ate at him, especially for his earlier words about Anders leaving. "I'm sorry that you had to go through that alone."

"We weren't alone," Justice assured him.

"You know what I mean."

"Nathaniel." Reaching out, they rested their hand upon his, their touch gentle. "Things might not be perfect now, but Anders and I made it through the worst by relying on each other. We didn't know at the time whether or not we could even control ourselves. We didn't want to risk you or the others, so we left. We didn't leave because of you, though."

Nathaniel sighed.

"Well, that's a relief, at least."

Their light died down, Anders slowly regaining control.

"In our defense, this was all your idea," Anders told him. "You were the one to suggest that Justice look for a living host."

Nate blinked owlishly at him.

"You remember that conversation?" he asked, bewildered. "How does that work exactly? Are all of his memories yours and vice versa, or…?"

"Something like that." He repeated to Nathaniel an explanation similar to what he once told Hawke. "I can't really say where one of us starts and the other ends. There are times when I'm the one in control and others when it's mostly Justice, but we're both still there. I'm still me, but it's us now. It's like we're two people and one at the same time." With a resigned grumble, Anders gave a half-shrug. "It's hard to explain."

"So, when Justice was in Kristoff's body…" Nathaniel looked as if he would be sick. "You can remember that?"

"I can," he answered slowly, "but I would rather not think about it, if possible."

"Wait, wait, wait," Garrett said. "You're telling me that you have memories…" He gestured vaguely, overall speechless. "Of possessing a corpse?"

"Yes, now, can we please stop talking about this?"

Silently, Nathaniel and Garrett exchanged a pointed look.

"Are you, uh, okay?" Garrett asked.

"Not right now, I'm not. Not if you two keep pestering me about this."

"Are you okay, in general?" Nathaniel countered.

Anders opened his mouth, paused, then closed it.

"Believe it or not, I am," he admitted. "I mean, I have purpose here. Our friends feel like a sort of makeshift family at times, and I have a man that I love, who loves me in return. Life is good right now."

He didn't entertain thoughts of the future, not now, not when things were peaceful, if only for a moment.

Garrett beamed up at Anders, shifting closer to his side.

Their love for each other was so apparent that Nathaniel couldn't help but to smile just from watching them.

"Glad to know things are working out for you," Nate said, ruminating on his thoughts with a playful chuckle. "Although, it's nice to know that some things never change."

Anders stared at him in confusion.

"What does that mean?"

"It means that, after all these years, you're still sporting the whole feathered pauldron look with robes that scream 'I'm a rebel mage!' I'm surprised to see you in casual attire for once," Nathaniel teased. "Although, if not even a Spirit of Justice or living amongst the nobility could change your tastes in robes and armor, then I certainly have no hope."

"I— What's wrong with my robes?!"

"Nothing, if there is an actual benefit to wearing them."

Garrett snickered, so Anders turned his glare on him instead.

"Whose side are you even on?"

"The one that supports your individuality, of course," Garrett replied, not once missing a beat.

"Heh, good answer."

"You managed to charm me at least, feathers and all."

"Miracles never cease," Nathaniel deadpanned.

"Not that it matters anyhow," Anders muttered. Before he could stop himself, the words came spilling out of his mouth. "You've always been the type that cares more about how I look out of my robes than in them."

Both Garrett and Nathaniel tensed, and it took a solid minute for Anders' mind to catch up with what he said.

He instantly buried his face into his hands, his cheeks burning red with a growing blush.

"Can we forget I just said that?"

"Not a chance," Garrett chuckled. He leaned around Anders to quirk a brow up at Nathaniel. "Remind me, what was the extent of your relationship again?"

"I, uh—" Even Nathaniel grew uncharacteristically bashful at that, stumbling over his words, rubbing nervously at the back of his neck. "Well, you see…"

"Seriously?" Anders grumbled with a nudge to Garrett’s side.

"What? I'm just curious!"

"Yeah, and if I started asking about your past relationships?" Anders peeked at him between his fingers, eyes narrowed. "Fenris? Varric?"

Garrett lifted his head up in challenge, his smirk mischievous.

"Defensive much? I'm an open book," Garrett said. "Fenris left for his own reasons, so we simply didn't work out after the fact. Varric was a one night fling, and we were both well aware of that fact beforehand."

"Uh-huh." Anders hid his grin behind his hands. "What about Sebastian?"

"What about him?"

"Would you have slept with him too, if not for his vow of chastity?"

"Oh, no." Garrett shook his head. "No, no, no. Of course not." Then, he stopped to think it over. "Well, on second thought…"

"You're shameless!" Anders laughed.

"He definitely wants to fuck me, though," Garrett responded.

"He definitely does."

"His loss, though, but you're avoiding the question." Garrett poked Anders in the arm. "Nothing to be ashamed of, you two. At the end of the day, I love you and Justice, Anders. I'm committed to you, but I do want you to be as happy as possible, and if Nathaniel—"

"If you're asking if we slept together, then yes," Nathaniel cut in, tired of the back and forth.

Anders yelped, caught off guard, but Garrett choked on his words with a snort.

"I knew it!"

"Multiple times, actually."

"Nate!" Anders scolded, but even he couldn't hold back his wide, radiant grin.

"I mean, would you be interested in doing that again?" Eyeing Nathaniel up and down, Garrett even had the audacity to wink at him, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip. "I wouldn't mind if you joined us for a bit of fun. With Anders' permission, of course."

Wedged in between them, Anders was suddenly all too aware of the heat emanating from their bodies.

Nathaniel considered the offer, right before he pressed himself flush against Anders' side

"Well, what do you say, Anders?" He tucked blonde hair back behind his ear, whispering to him, breathless with an all-too-familiar desire. "For old times' sake?"

Flashes of memories sparked to life in the back of his mind. Stolen moments in the barracks at Vigil's Keep. Passionate nights spent upstairs in his very own bed. All of it came rushing back to him, all at once.

One thing about Justice, he was a bit of a romantic.

Experiencing echoes of love through Kristoff's memories was one thing, but experiencing the emotion firsthand through Anders was another feeling entirely. It was like comparing a candle's heat to the burn of a pyromancer's strongest spells, intense and all-consuming.

Safe to say, Anders was feeling a little overwhelmed on all ends.

In the blink of an eye, he was on his feet. 

A bright light shot through him, there and gone in an instant.

Facing Garrett and Nathaniel, he tugged at his collar with a sheepish grin, walking backwards out the door, only to bump into the frame.

"Well, would you look at that?! We're going to be late for Wicked Grace night if we don't hurry, and I, for one, can use a drink after the day I've had."

"That's not a 'no,'" Garrett noted, always the optimist.

"It's not," Anders agreed, "but I'm not answering either of you until I've played a round of cards, lost all my coin, and have some half-decent ale in my system."

With that, he left the room. Garrett and Nathaniel stood up to follow, dusting themselves off.

"I assume that means we'll resume this conversation later," Nathaniel said.

Garrett looped his arm through Nathaniel's, dragging him along with a joyous laugh.

"Definitely."

[troublemakerhawke]

i really like thinking about anders and justice BOTH falling in love with hawke.

it becomes even better if hawke is also a mage apostate.

i mean.

- hawke speaks with them like he/she would speak with any other person. that is not what anders is used to.

- hawke is compassionate. he/she sees good in anders and justice. he/she tries to understand the complexity of the situation they find themselves into to the best of his/her ability.

- hawke openly supports mages. more over, he/she ofter helps said mages to escape kirkwall, like, all the time.

- hawke is ready to announce to the whole world he/she is dating an apostate and that he/she is ready for any consequences it brings.

yes, justice isn't exactly pleased when the relationship just starts, but it is because he fears they will stray from their ultimate goal. then they understand, that hawke's goal is the same – freedom for all mages. and that hawke is ready to fight for it.

justice is probably able to force himself out if he STRONGLY disagrees with something. during anders' interactions with hawke, even romantic ones, he doesn't.

and that makes me believe he eventually falls for him/her, too.

[kerfanna]

WIP Wheneversday

@sulky-valkyrie tagged me in this <3

I only ever write porn so here you go:

They moan simultaneously and Fenris’ eyes slip closed before flying back open when Anders and Justice speak in a deep dual-tone, “You feel like home.” 

Fenris runs a finger reverently over the Fade in their skin and they moan again. “You… you feel like– like…” Fenris’ whole body shudders and he pulls them into a kiss. 

The cracks in Anders’ skin fade as their kiss turns heated again. 

“Justice likes you,” Anders pants when they part.

[blueboyluca]

“When I first heard it, from a dog trainer who knew her behavioral science, it was a stunning moment. I remember where I was standing, what block of Brooklyn’s streets. It was like holding a piece of polished obsidian in the hand, feeling its weight and irreducibility. And its fathomless blackness. Punishment is reinforcing to the punisher. Of course. It fit the science, and it also fit the hidden memories stored in a deeply buried, rusty lockbox inside me. The people who walked down the street arbitrarily compressing their dogs’ tracheas, to which the poor beasts could only submit in uncomprehending misery; the parents who slapped their crying toddlers for the crime of being tired or hungry: These were not aberrantly malevolent villains. They were not doing what they did because they thought it was right, or even because it worked very well. They were simply caught in the same feedback loop in which all behavior is made. Their spasms of delivering small torments relieved their frustration and gave the impression of momentum toward a solution. Most potently, it immediately stopped the behavior. No matter that the effect probably won’t last: the reinforcer—the silence or the cessation of the annoyance—was exquisitely timed. Now. Boy does that feel good.”

— Melissa Holbrook Pierson, The Secret History of Kindness (2015)

[whereserpentswalk]

Bigotry agaisnt trans men is spreading so I want to send some love to the transmasc community.

I love you trans men.

Love you trans men who don't pass.

Love you trans men who will never pass.

Love you trans men who don't want to pass.

Love you poc trans men.

Love you gay trans men.

Love you lesbian trans men.

Love you straight trans men.

Love you bi trans men.

Love you ace trans men.

Love you Jewish trans men.

Love you atheist trans men.

Love you pagan trans men.

Love you trans men with breasts.

Love you trans men who aren't on T yet.

Love you trans men who'll never be on T.

Love you mentally in trans men.

Love you unmedicated mentally ill trans men.

Love you trans men who self harm.

Love you trans men who've thought about ending their lives.

Love you trans men with cringe interests.

Love you trans men who dress in ways people consider cringe.

Love you trans men who'll never have sex.

Love you trans men who have a lot of sex.

Love you trans men who are sex workers.

Love you trans men who've had abortions.

Love you feminine trans men.

Love you butch trans men.

Love you trans men who still consider themselves cute and pretty.

Love you trans men who aren't physically attractive.

Love you trans men who hate being called cute or pretty.

I love you. I love you. I love you. You are valid. You are a man. You deserve to be seen as a man. You deserve to be loved and cherished as a man. You deserve to be happy. You aren't made worse by your transition, you aren't a burden on the community, we're happy you're here, we're happy you're men, we love you.

Reblog this to send love to your transmasc followers.

[vyeoh]

(The Washington Post)

For those who don't know, the US Supreme Court just ruled that states are allowed to enforce trans healthcare for minors. Undoubtedly, this will trigger a wave of other states that either hope to pass or have already passed policies to do the same. This is going to kill children, and harm more in long-lasting ways.

So, how can you help?

FUCKING VOTE. I don't care if you don't like Biden, he's not the only one on the ballot. Vote representatives into your city council who will turn our city into a sanctuary city. Vote for governors and state reps who will, even if they don't pass new protections, oppose bans being pushed through. Chsllenge and kick out conservative incumbents who are banking on their races being obscure enough for people to not vote in.

Anyone telling you voting is useless is either lying to you or grossly uninformed and think saying this is the edgy new take that will make them look hip and informed. Yes, the system is broken. But short of burning the whole thing to the ground (which personally I'm not a fan of as I quite enjoy having like. Roads and the FDA) what we can do is to change it for the better, by starting with the local races and working our way up.

[cable-salamdr]

Their album drops next week y’all better be ready to hear the bangers of these four mentally ill and traumatised teenagers (Click for better quality because tumblr hates me)

Individual shots (click for details? Idk):

[mikami1992]

The situation is becoming more and more chaotic…

Over the past month, a series of kidnappings of politicians and businessmen have taken place throughout the country.

The latest victim?

Lex Luthor was the 10th victim and it occurred during a press conference in front of the Lex Corp building… The modus operandi was the same as the previous ones, a group of people with helmets and white motorcycle suits, along with green lacer weapons assaulted the tycoon and proceeded to take him away under the newly discovered Anti-Ecto law, once again there was a confrontation between the "Hunters" and the security group of the place, again nothing could be done and several of the guards were taken away under the charge of terrorism according to the guidelines of the previous law…..

o

The teenagers of Amity Park decided to make an unconventional protest to publicize and accelerate the repeal of the Anti-Ecto Laws, said proposal consists of kidnapping the politicians who approved the law (knowing about it) as well as the businessmen with more questionable practices.

The idea ended up emerging when, noticing how the GIW began to check humans for ecto-contamination, they decided to make a "Jewel" with the sole purpose of fooling the government's sensors.

Once they had it ready, the Phantom team had to explain to the rest of the town's teenagers how and why they had to use the device…

And amidst all the chaos of the situation, the crazy group of teenagers decided that they had to do something to stop the laws, so they made the following plan…

Reverse the jewels so that they create a false ectoplasmic signature.

Implant it in politicians, businessmen or any questionable person so that they are "ecto entities"

Use a scanner "approved" by the GIW, that is, by the government, and identify them as ecto entities

Proceed to kidnap them in the most public way possible while shouting anti-ecto acts.

Wait for the chaos in the government and the repeal of the laws.

[batwynn]

Alt text:

It’s ok to be disabled and happy. Being disabled does not mean you have to constantly suffer.

[caligvlasaqvarivm]

Actual Ultimate Classpecting Guide

For real this time.

Buckle up, this is a really long one. For everything that's posited, I can provide textual evidence; that being said, I'm not going to be including the textual evidence within the essay itself, because it's already long enough as-is. As such, please feel free to ask for clarification or sources on any assertion, and I'll do my best to provide.

Before we begin, there's some things to discuss about how we're going to be approaching classpect in the following essay. In numbered list form for our short attention spans:

1. There is a concept Hussie talks about multiple times in his book commentary, "personality alchemy" - the idea that there are these "platonic ideals" of certain characters, which can be mixed and matched with others, in order to create new characters. The examples he gives are of how Eridan was a proto-Caliborn, how Kanaya has shades of Jade, how Nepeta was a proto-Calliope, and how Sollux and Eridan have shades of Dave in them. Classpecting is fundamentally a form of this personality alchemy:

2. Class describes the character's arc and emotional hurdles, while Aspect describes the character's base personality traits by which this arc is experienced.

3. For example, all three Seers struggle with hubris: Rose's need to be the smartest person in the room led to her being manipulated by Doc Scratch, Terezi's obsession with meting justice led to her engineering a situation where the only option was to kill Vriska, and Kankri's desire to be seen as a spiritual leader amongst his friends led to him furthering their divisions and harming them.

Then, when their pride is shattered, they cope by inflicting willful self-blindness: Rose turns to drinking herself stupid (the opposite of Light's sway over knowledge), Terezi gets down with the clown (the opposite of meting out Mind's justice, as it's a Gamzee W), Kankri goes celibate (Blood L) despite his clear romantic feelings for certain teammates.

4. As for Aspect: note how all three Life players share the personality traits of optimism, stubbornness, and obstinacy. All three Breath players share an immaturity and naïvety, and are quite frankly irresistible to people for some reason. All three Light players share a need for the spotlight and a tendency toward long-windedness and persnicketiness. So on and so forth.

What's interesting is, if you start analyzing characters that share Classes and Aspects, these specific types of similarity crop up over and over - all our Knights struggle with insecurities and facades, both our Bards have a crisis of faith. All three Breath players have an aspect of immaturity and childishness to their characters, and all three Light players are deeply concerned with appearing intelligent and feeling important.

5. As a result, this guide is NOT intended for classpecting real life people, because we are complicated, we contain multitudes, and we don't have arcs. This is primarily an analysis of what Class and Aspect mean in Homestuck based on textual evidence, because I genuinely believe that you can basically figure it out if you read carefully.

6. Duality, and the idea of "equal and opposite," are major themes within Homestuck - Prospit and Derse, Skaia (described as a crucible of birth and creativity) and the Furthest Ring (the literal afterlife). Which classes are involved in an Active/Passive split, and opposing Aspects, are the same way. This is the primary method I used to determine the Active/Passive pairings and opposing Aspects. After all, as Callie describes, both Thieves and Rogues are classes "who steal" - so, too, do I try to unify Classes by a common theme, even if they diverge wildly in how that theme is expressed (as Thieves and Rogues do). In the same way as the opposite of "up" is not "apple," but "down", because "up" and "down" are both fundamentally concerned with relative vertical position, so too can be defined concepts like Breath and Blood, Hope and Rage, Light and Void - as well as the reasoning behind Class pairings like Heir and Page, Maid and Knight, and Seer and Mage.

7. Descriptions for both Class and Aspect are left deliberately vague and up to interpretation within the comic itself, and this is by design: the actual manifestations of an Aspect can vary wildly given the Class, and even individual person, that it's tied to. Calliope even makes note of the fact that, under the right circumstances, someone can manifest effects that appear to be the opposite of their aspect. She's also careful to couch her language in "may" and "can" - because these concepts are intentionally somewhat nebulous and malleable. As such, while this guide certainly lays down what can be gleaned and inferred from the text, do note that Homestuck runs on a soft magic system, and as such, nothing stated is firm, 100%, must-always-be-this-way - just an overview of what we've seen.

8. There is often great overlap between Aspects, Classes, and Classpects - which Calliope herself notes. Heart and Blood are one of the most salient, as they both have a fixation on relationships, and Calliope mentions that under the right circumstances, a Classpect may even be able to manifest what appears to be the opposite of their Aspect. Again, Homestuck operates on a soft magic system, so this is a feature, not a bug.

ASPECT

There's a little less to say about Aspect, not because it's less complicated, but because "base personality traits" are much more nebulous compared to Class's sway over character arc. Still, Aspect represents the fundamental way a character is, and thus, color every interaction that character has. There's a reason Ultimate Selfhood is sought through Aspect, not Class - Aspect is the core of the character's being, what makes that person that person.

That all being said, Class has major sway over how an Aspect manifests, and certain classes can even invert the Aspect and even the character's role in the party. As such, these descriptions must be parsed carefully in relation to Class. Moreover, due to the soft magic system, there is at times overlap between unrelated Aspects, which can also be exacerbated by Class - Heart and Blood being the most obvious in this regard. Still, overall, you'll find the Aspects to be fairly distinct from one another.

Please also note that every Aspect can deal with its literal counterpart by default - Light players can wield lasers, Breath players can wield the breeze, et cetera. Because this kind of goes without saying, and because the non-literal stuff is more interesting to discuss, I'm not really going to go into too much detail about the literal qualities.

SPACE / TIME

Space and Time are both concerned with physical reality, goals, and the way one approaches them.

Space is associated with "the big picture" - with recycling, reproduction, and the interconnectivity of all things. The aspect also presides over the enjoyment of the journey over the destination - Space players serve as reminders that the present moment is as important as the end goal. Space is often a more passive Aspect, being the stage upon which the story is set. They're the hosts of the party, and the one who marks the ending.

Its players reflect these tendencies, often being feminine, with penchants for life-giving acts such as gardening. Their personalities tend towards frivolity and silliness, finding it difficult to stay on-topic or bring full gravitas to serious situations. Perhaps a better word would be "distractable;" when the aspect is so concerned with all things in connection with each other, it's easy to lose track of details, and it's easy to enjoy things simply as they come. Space players tend to be kind, patient, and forgiving, which is a strength as much as it is a flaw; it's easy for malicious actors to take advantage of this compassion, or for the Space player to find themselves in a poor situation by being overly permissive. They can easily be painted over by stronger personalities, and tend to struggle with romantic relationships, as they attract many with their kind and giving natures, and few are naturally so considerate of the Space player in turn.

A Space player's struggle lies in finding the strength to assert themselves, picking out the good from the bad, weeding the garden so it can flourish and thrive.

Time, in contrast, is associated with "the little things" - with details, minutiae, and processes. Time presides over the struggle toward something greater, the endurance of hardship with an eye on the prize - the destination over the journey. Time players are the ones keeping track of the tasklist, marking off each item as it reaches completion; they are the tireless workers keeping the whole engine running.

Time players, thus, are ones whose lives are marked by struggle. They are highly goal-oriented; in contrast to how Space players can easily move from goal to goal, task to task, Time players feel bound to see things through to the end, finding satisfaction only when they've achieved their desired result - and only until they come across the next goal in their journey. A Time player isn't happy without a goal to work towards, a craft to polish, a prize to win - but this driven nature can easily be its own downfall, as it leaves little room for the player to admit to their own shortcomings, or ask for help from others. Moreover, their focus on minutiae can leave them blinded to the bigger picture, and it's easy for a time player to fall to despair, able to do nothing more but spin their wheels. They're prone to directionless anguish, frustration, and resentment towards the seeming futility of their actions, becoming destructive and defiant even when it doesn't serve them to do so. In the worst case scenario, detach entirely, coming to a standstill.

A Time player's struggle lies in finding peace with themselves, such that they can enjoy the fruits of their own labor - labor whose rewards only multiply when the cause and methodology become clear.

BREATH / BLOOD

Breath and Blood are both concerned with directionality, interpersonal relationships, and autonomy.

Breath is the Aspect governing freedom, liberty, and independence; it is a force that breaks shackles, clears out social norms, and refutes "the rules," whatever those rules may be. Breath players can't be tied down, whether by physical bonds, societal rules, or even the ineffable forces of the narrative itself. They are leaders of example, pioneers, and trailblazers, opening new paths for their teammates to follow.

Breath players are goofy and gullible, often with hearts full of childlike whimsy, naivety, and even immaturity. They are friendly and well-meaning, fond of simpler things, and easily swayed by others. They approach the world with a sincere earnestness, which is not always well-received. Something about this sincerity seems to make Breath players irresistible to others, and they often find themselves the subject of romantic attraction. However, in this childishness is also the great pitfall of many Breath players - their natures are naturally conflict-averse, and egotistical the way a child can be, failing to see beyond themselves. They can be incredibly callous when not considering the consequences of their actions, or the viewpoints of others. Their easy-come, easy-go natures make it difficult to focus them towards a goal, and it's easy for them to simply allow themselves to be tossed around by circumstance and the whims of others, or to simply run away from their problems entirely - never confronting their own responsibility or fault for a situation, passing along the blame.

A Breath player's struggle is letting themselves mature - letting themselves take responsibility, and understand that their actions have consequences for others. Only then can their breeze blow in the party's sails, aiming towards victory, breaking through all obstacles to reach it.

Blood, in sharp contrast, is the aspect that governs bondage, contracts, and interdependence. It is a force that binds. Under Blood's sway are not only romantic entanglements, but familial, friendly, and societal ones as well. This aspect sees overlap with Heart, but the division is this: Heart concerns itself with feelings, and Blood concerns itself with compatibility. Blood players are diplomats, forces that remind us all that we are more similar than we are different, and that that similarity should bring us together when we are on the verge of pulling apart.

Blood players, reflective of their Aspect's association with bonds, tend to be neurotic and obsessive. They have a tendency to over-examine and overthink, constantly fretting over the infinite and infinitesimal variables that influence the shape of society and interpersonal relationships. However, this judgmental nature stems from a deep well of idealism and empathy; Blood players can't help but care about others and wish for the best for them. In a way, this makes them one of the most mature members of the team, capable of cutting through to the core of other peoples' interpersonal issues. Unfortunately, their prowess does not extend inwards, and their assessment of themselves is usually direly incorrect - all the worse because Blood players always feel responsible for those around them. Blood, being the Aspect concerned with interdependence, is the weakest one when all alone. Thus, it's easy for the Blood player to wind up a nag - desperate to make sure everyone is moving according to their vision, they'll fuss and bother and interfere and boss people around until everyone else gets sick of them. It's easy for them to wind up pariahs of their own making, severing their own ties with others by their efforts to establish them.

A Blood player's challenge is of learning how to turn that empathy and honesty inwards, to calm down and let themselves enjoy the presence of others; only then can they come to know how to build something stronger and better.

LIGHT / VOID

Light and Void are both concerned with knowledge, ontology, and "narrative relevance".

Light (as well as its counterpart) are perhaps best understood through the lens of "narrative" - this idea that, of all things that do and don't exist, and all events that do and don't happen, only the ones put to page are "relevant". Thus, Light is associated with knowledge and luck - that is to say, it's associated with the knowable, the objective, and the concrete, and the ability to determine "important" events. Light players have read the book they're participating in, and able to serve as luminary guides from one plot point to another, lighting the lampposts for others to follow.

Light players, naturally, are erudite and educated, possessing keen intellects and cunning minds. They are fond of knowledge itself, of markers of status and prestige - whether that's wealth, the adulation of the masses, or a massive library. They harbor a desire to be important, to be seen, to be acknowledged, and are happiest when they are looked up to. Conversely, they deal poorly with being looked down upon. Their confidence transmutes easily into hubris, and they struggle with having that pride challenged. As such, they tend to be volatile and unpredictable, quick to retaliate against those who threaten their egos, or obsequious to those whose acknowledgement they desire. Their desire for the limelight can quickly spell disaster for those around them, who are reduced to supporting characters in their minds. Craving so much external validation, they're often blind to what would actually make them internally happy.

A Light player's challenge is of coming to terms with their own limited reach, and allowing themselves to shine not for their own desire for importance, but for the betterment of the world in which they live.

Void, in contrast, is the blank spaces between the words. That which is secret, subjective, unknowable - these are Void's domain. It's associated with taboos and hidden things, sexuality and pleasure. It's also associated with the empty canvas - the blank space before creation, and the oblivion to which creation is eventually destined for. Thus, it stands for infinite possibility, though the collapse of those possibilities into a reality removes that reality from Void's domain.

Thus are Void players ever cosigned to the background, though this generally suits them fine. Void players are very self-possessed. Where Light players tend to exaggerate and complicate, Void players are honest and simple, preferring straightforward solutions. They don't tend to think very hard, instead letting intuition and emotion guide them to where they want to be - which makes them one of the more stable and reliable personalities on a team. However, this simplistic, feelings-driven approach often leads to complications and unforeseen consequences, and very easily to irrelevance, with which Void is so closely interlinked. A Void player's reliance on emotion and intuition can result in overindulgence of pleasure, to the active detriment of the party's goals or the Void player's self-improvement, leaving them lost and irrelevant, unable to act.

A Void player's challenge is in resisting the call of the Void's temptations, instead dragging the Void behind them, kicking and screaming, to where it can be of use.

MIND / HEART

Mind and Heart are concerned with what it means to be a sentient being, with identity, and with why we do what we do.

Mind is the Aspect associated with logic, rationality, karma, ethics, and justice. To a Mind player, they "are" because they "think". They are keenly aware of the consequences of every action, and well-versed in cognition and behavior, such to the point of manipulating others with ease. Deeply concerned with the "effect" of cause-and-effect, Mind players are always cognizant of debts and credits, where justice is owed and where it has been over-meted, and their subtle machinations culminate, like well-placed dominoes, in grand finales.

Mind players are schemers - it's in their nature. They have a tendency to view the world as a puzzle or game, with themselves and the people around them as pieces on a board, and set as their standard rules the laws of ethics and karma - owed debts and overhanging credit - guilty and innocent. Mind players are wickedly cunning, and have an high success rate with every scheme they commit themselves to, but the grand downfall of all these tendencies is that they tend to lack in a sense of identity, and have a poor grasp on their own emotions or desires. While they may know how to provoke a desired reaction, they don't know how to change someone's mind. They often find themselves grappling very painfully with their own selfhood, with feelings of emptiness, inadequacy, or uncertainty; this often leads them to seek codependent relationships, hoping somehow that they can find the validation they need externally, not realizing that they're deepening their own fragile self-images.

A Mind player's challenge lies in tempering their natural understanding of karma and justice with kindness and empathy - not just to others, but to themselves, and using that enlightened understanding to lead others forth.

Heart, then, is associated with feelings, motivations, intuition, the soul, and the self. To a Heart player, they "are" because they "feel" like they are - and they're keenly aware of the multitudes that are contained within themselves. Deeply concerned with the "cause" of cause-and-effect, they're drawn to desires, those of themselves and of others, especially where strong feelings are concerned. Heart players are gifted with an intuitive understanding of those around them, both their good and bad qualities, and are tasked with the grand task of bringing out the best.

It stands to reason, then, that Heart players have a firm grasp on who they are and what they want. For the same reasons, it's difficult for a Heart player to truly hate or condemn another person, because they are so adept at understanding them. However, this understanding comes with a price - because the Heart player is so aware of themselves, they can't escape their own worst traits - nobody self-loathes as accurately as a Heart player can. Nor can they ever truly be untruthful with another, making them poor manipulators. Capable of presenting a different facet of themselves as the situation calls for it, certainly, but just as it's impossible to lie to a Heart player, who always knows how someone really feels, it's impossible for a Heart player to lie to themselves. With this sincerity comes vulnerability, and vulnerability often brings with it pain; Heart players have a tendency to withdraw from others after being hurt too often, finding it easier to be alone and silent about their feelings than to deal with the pain of rejection.

A Heart player's challenge is in gaining the confidence to be open with others, to weather the pain of rejection, and let themselves share their gifts, that others may learn to share theirs.

LIFE / DOOM

Life and Doom are concerned with outlook, with journeys, and with trials and tribulations.

Life is an aspect concerned with healing, growing, and improving. It is associated with beginnings, optimism, and positive emotions. The very essence of Life lies in its healing abilities, in this idea of overcoming the odds and triumphing over hardship and difficulty. Life is action, movement, and motion, and its players can scarcely hold still. Life will find a way - and Life players harbor the same immutable belief; they are the most stubborn weeds in the garden, the cockroach that survives the apocalypse, and the beating heart that refuses to stop.

Life players tend to be optimistic and confident. They are self-assured individuals, with a stubborn belief that good things are on their way, and any hardship they face is not only temporary, but something that can be overcome. They can find the silver lining in any cloud, and enjoy themselves under any circumstance. They love to nurture, to care for others, though this love has a tendency to be one-sided. Indeed, Life's stubborn nature is its players' greatest pitfall; their persistence easily becomes obstinacy, and their confidence can become condescension. Their self-assured nature easily becomes egotism, and they can have great difficulty grappling with those who don't share their views - even coming to oppose those who bring emotional pain and suffering that can't be easily fixed. It's very easy for a Life player to decide another person isn't worth their attention, and opt to leave them behind - after all, Life has to move forward, no matter what it tramples in the process.

A Life player's challenge is in accepting the merit in taking a pause to consider unpleasant words and alternative viewpoints, in trying to understand the actual problems instead of imposing their own will onto others, so as to better focus their healing energies.

Doom, then, is the aspect concerned with death, with rest, and with endings. Doom is associated with suffering and with negative emotions, with peace, with sleep, and with dreams. Doom players have a natural penchant for prophecy, and are often dual dreamers, able to take advantage of both Skaia's oracular clouds and the Horrorterrors' voices over Derse. All things must eventually come to an end, and not all times will be good; in these troubling times, Doom players shine, as they are the guides who call the murk home, and know best how to navigate rough waters, course-correcting until the storm passes.

Doom players tend to be deeply pessimistic. They experience, to a much more magnified degree than others, negative feelings and impulses, and it's difficult for them to see the world without seeing its flaws, first and foremost. They are not healers, but commiserators, those who understand greatest that sometimes there's no way to deal with tragedy but to simply sit with it and wait for it to pass. The counterpoint to Life's insistence on breathless positivity, Doom is a reminder that pain, grief, sadness, shame, and guilt are not unnecessary things - in fact, excising them can lead to terrible consequences. Doom players are the universe's martyrs, often taking it upon themselves to course-correct, to sacrifice themselves in order to give others a chance to continue on, to avert a terrible fate. Unfortunately, this tendency also brings with it a tendency for Doom players to wallow in misfortune, or worse, to take themselves out of the picture, giving up entirely on seeing a better ending.

A Doom player's challenge is in rising above the melange of suffering and pain, to grasp personal peace, and to fill their lives, if not with happiness, then with meaning.

HOPE / RAGE

Hope and Rage are concerned with permission, and are the lens by which we define reality.

Hope is described by Hussie in the book commentary as being "framed as the most powerful aspect" because it is, literally, an aspect that defines reality. Its specific ability is lies in reducing the "fakeness attribute" of something, thus making it "real". Hope is associated with convictions, with idealism, with faith, order, holiness, and, of course, with magic - which Hope turns real. Hope is permission itself - a reality-breaking ability to look at the world and decree that it must be another way, a way in which the Hope player believes it ought to be.

Thus, Hope players tend to be hard-headed zealots. Their inclination towards powerful beliefs makes them very difficult to dissuade from a path they've set their minds to, and their specific suite of abilities makes them terrifyingly likely to make their vision come true. Hope players are usually not particularly cunning, nor particularly intelligent, nor even particularly empathetic. Given the Aspect's focus on conviction and faith, it's usually very difficult for Hope players to notice anything occurring beyond their own minds and feelings. Thus are Hope players hopeless optimists, hopeless romantics, and hopeless in general - usually not particularly well-liked, for their inflexibility, for their lack of empathy, and for their dearth of wit. However, their ability to define reality does not leave them when their beliefs are faulty (which they often are, given Hope players are not particularly introspective, either), which is what makes a Hope player so dangerous. Setting them on the wrong path, or breaking their Hope in twain, can result in disastrous consequences, as - one way or another - what a Hope player believes in comes true.

A Hope player's challenge is in seeing beyond themselves, letting others help guide their vision to something newer and more beautiful.

Rage, then, is the power of denial. If Hope reduces the "fakness" of a thing, then Rage reduces its "realness". Rage, too, is a means of defining reality, in this case taking a torch to the aspects of reality that it rejects. In more passive Classes, this works in subtler ways, stoking others towards destructive fury. Rage is associated with anarchy, chaos, revolution, destruction, anger, and nihilism. A Rage player will not suffer a world that does not satisfy them, breaking it to pieces, such that something new can take its place.

Therefore, Rage players are prone to harboring anger and resentment, discontentment with the status quo, and faith only in that what currently exists must somehow be dismantled. However, unlike Hope players, who can't help but be pathetically sincere, Rage players grasp that their natural inclinations are bothersome to others, and often try to mask and hide their embitterment and anger. This, ironically, leads to further ostracization, as others can tell they're being inauthentic. This only further compounds their sense of alienation, and drives them further into smoldering resentment; in the worst-case scenario, the Rage player turns that rage out indiscriminately, deciding that there is nothing worth fighting for - only unpleasant things to be brought to ruin. This makes Rage players sound volatile and dangerous, and they are - but the same fury that moves them is the fury that ignites revolts and tears down oppressive regimes, a necessary and vital well of energy and momentum. It takes careful handling to ensure that the team's Rage player can channel this energy towards righteous causes, rather than marking all as a target for their destructive ire.

A Rage player's challenge is in learning to be authentic and true, and to allow this to release the pressure of their mounting ire, such that it can be converted into productive, rather than destructive, energy.

CLASS

As previously stated, Class governs a character's character arc - the character's starting circumstances, whether their conflict is primarily internal or external, and what major aspect of their Aspect becomes a hurdle for them to overcome.

In the same way an Aspect's sways tie into the character's base personality, the character's Class abilities tie into the kinds of struggles they face, and have great influence on how their Aspects manifest.

That being said, a character - and their Class - are always subject to their Aspect, as their Aspect is tied fundamentally into who they are. Thus, it can be said that a Light player will always have an affinity for knowledge and provide Seer-esque guidance even when not in a Seer role, a Doom player will always have prophetic abilities even with a non-prophetic class (note that Mituna, an Heir, still had prophetic visions, despite those generally being the realm of Mages and Seers), and a Life player will always have a penchant for healing, even paired with a destructive Class like Prince or Thief (the Condesce, after all, could still extend life; a Prince of Life would likely manifest not as one who causes plants to wither and die (this would actually suit a Prince of Doom), but one who destroys in the way of nature overtaking an abandoned shack, or a forest breaking down a body).

This means that when a character's Classpect inverts their Aspect, it doesn't mean that they suddenly become a hero of the opposing Aspect - rather, it means that, at their very worst - at the nadirs of their character arcs - they will lean so much into their Aspect's worst traits that it will superficially appear as the opposite, when all it really is is an absence of themselves. Dave, a Time player, usually so attentive to detail (despite his disaffected facade, he's always paying rapt attention to Karkat's rants, and noticing all the clues pointing to his destiny of defeating LE), at his lowest emotional point (arguing with Grimbark Jade after sobbing about his lost childhood whimsy), states that he doesn't think Lord English is that big a deal, and never even did anything directly bad to him or his friends - when he was literally directly haunted by LE via Cal his entire childhood. Similarly, Rose drinks herself stupid in order to cope with her mother's death.

Note how, superficially, this almost appears to be an invocation of Space's "big picture thinking," its passivity and permissibility, or how Rose's case appears to be Void's tendency to indulge in vices and pleasure - but they're not. Time's worst traits superficially resemble Space, Light's resemble Void, and vice versa - Grimbark Jade is the Condesce's taskmaster, and Porrim at her worst was as much of a nag as Kankri, trying to do a Time player's managerial job. Horuss and Equius at their worst won't shut up and won't stop talking over their partners. So on and so forth.

Finally, Calliope tells us a couple things about Active/Passive pairings. The first is that Calliope introduces the idea of paired classes with the idea that both Rogues and Thieves "steal" (and later, that both Princes and Bards "destroy"). This presents the idea that both classes can be roughly summed up with the idea that every pairing can be summed up with a common theme.

The second is her description of what makes a Class Active versus Passive - that Active Classes move their Aspect to benefit themselves, whereas Passive Classes allow their Aspect to be moved in order for others to benefit. In a way, they're like active and passive voice in grammar (to tie in with the way Classes and Aspects are so tied to ideas of narrative and character arc) - an Active Class performs their Aspect, and a Passive Class allows the Aspect to be performed "by others" (the famous piece of advice regarding telling the two apart being that a sentence written in passive voice can have "by zombies" tacked to the end of it - eg, John is attacked "by zombies", as compared to active voice - John attacks).

Thus, the Class pairings, along with their basic themes, are as follows:

KNIGHT - / MAID +

"One who controls."

Knights and Maids are paired together through two key factors: the first is that they both hold leadership or managerial roles; the second is that both classes carry the connotation of serving a Lord. Fittingly, they are both struggle with the control of malicious forces - Knights with prophecies indicating their role as heroes, Maids with direct usurpation by malicious forces.

PAGE - / HEIR +

"One who inherits."

Pages and Heirs are paired together because they both fundamentally deal with the great inheritances placed before them. Pages can come into incredible, limitless power - but they must struggle and work hard for it; Heirs begin the game in societal comfort and wealth, and must learn to defect from their decadence.

THIEF - / ROGUE +

"One who steals."

Thieves and Rogues are highly adaptable, as Thieves are capable of fantastic on-the-fly adaptation, whereas Rogues have an infinite toolbox at their disposal. They are both provocateurs, shakers of the status quo, though the Thief does so for personal gain, while the Rogue does so to right injustice.

MAGE - / SEER +

"One who guides."

Mages and Seers are tied together by the gift of prophecy and future sight. Seers are privy to the endless branching paths that the future may take, while Mages are gifted with the ability to outright determine a future that will certainly happen, appearing to be prophecy.

WITCH - / SYLPH +

"One who changes."

Witches and Sylphs are individuals blessed with great magic, but poor judgement. Sylphs heal and nurture, but are drawn to those with strong desires, and enable them to cause great harm; Witches, meanwhile, possess strong emotions, which they often use as moral guidance, for better or worse.

PRINCE - / BARD +

"One who destroys."

Princes and Bards are representatives of society - the one who determines its course, and the one who recounts its passing. Princes suffer from a toxic overabundance of Aspect, and are prone to spectacular meltdowns, whereas Bards are always poised for a crisis of faith. Both are responsible for catastrophic failures - but also breathless victories.

INDIVIDUAL CLASSES

KNIGHT

"One who controls [Aspect] or controls using [Aspect]."

Knights are frontline warriors, rallying points behind which the party falls into line. Although they are often leaders, just as often, they are logistical planners, strategists, or simply the team's beating heart. They are almost always thrust into positions of narrative significance, often carrying grand destinies or even outright heroic prophecies on their shoulders. The are the party's rallying force, its center, and a guiding light - the one to lead the charge, behind which the party will follow.

The primary character struggle a Knight will have is with crippling insecurity. Knights are prone to self-loathing and imposter syndrome, and will often adopt a façade in direct opposition to their aspect (ie, their fundamental personality) in order to cope with their feelings of inadequacy. Thus, their relationship with their aspect becomes love/hate - though they're naturally drawn to their aspect, and even naturally skilled at utilizing it, they have a tendency to become their own worst enemy, as their insecurities make them push their façades, and their façades distance them from their aspect.

"Controlling their Aspect" means that the Knight has easy access to their Aspect, wielding it like a tool or weapon - for good or for ill; "controlling using their Aspect" is what grants Knights their leadership abilities, able to dictate how others ought to act in accordance with the Knight's Aspect - whether their understanding of their Aspect is high or low, whether their advice is good or bad.

Therefore, at their worst, a Knight will fall prey to their insecurities, retreating into their facades, rejecting their Aspect, which will allow disharmony or misuse of it to proliferate throughout the team. They may even wind up deliberately twisting their Aspect's presence within the team so that they never have to be confronted by it; these distortions ripple outwards and eventually culminate in major catastrophes, all on account of the Knight's negligence.

But at their best, a Knight is a shining beacon and guiding light; when they come to terms with themselves, and allow themselves to be comfortable in their own skin - when they no longer allow themselves to be ruled by their insecurities and anxieties - they ensure that their aspect is harmonious wherever it appears throughout their party, and can wield it expertly as a weapon, as if it were their own flesh and blood.

MAID

"One who allows control through [Aspect] or allows [Aspect] to be controlled."

Unlike Knights, which take positions of frontline prominence, a Maid is a managerial presence in the backlines, though no less crucial for the smooth functioning of a party. Just as the invisible hands of the hired help keep a household running, the Maid will be called upon to provide vital services to keep the game stable, even if those services are more noticeable by their absence than their presence. Maids are often the party's unsung heroes or even shadow leaders, tugging at invisible strings, fingers on the pulse.

A Maid's primary character struggle will be that of escaping oppression. Maids tend to start the game in positions of subjugation or subservience, especially to malicious forces, and their abilities often end up being exploited to serve their masters' ends. Therefore, one may even have the impression that a Maid is ruled by their aspect, held prisoner and slave - at least until they're able turn the tables.

"Allowing their Aspect to be controlled" means that Maids are capable of directly dispensing their aspect unto others - a Maid of Time can dispense time unto foes, pausing them in their tracks; a Maid of Life can grant so much life that they can revive the dead. Their boons are great and direct, straightforward in a similar manner to Knights. "Allowing control through their Aspect" grants them their uncanny managerial abilities, as their aspect dictates the realm in which nothing occurs without the Maid's knowledge or permission, a realm made available to whomever the Maid's allegiance lies with.

Thus, at their worst, the Maid becomes a saboteur. Exploited by malign forces, their abilities to allow control over others through their aspect, or control of their aspect, makes them perfect vehicles by which their aspect can be hijacked or usurped, and made to turn against the party, and they often find themselves placed into these positions through no fault of their own. It takes the party banding together to shake off the forces that would keep a Maid in bondage.

However, at their best, Maids ensure that the party can never go too far off the rails. There is a place for everything, and everything will be in its place; a Maid is a supply line, a safe haven, and a promise that everything will be neat and tidy when the party returns from war. When the Maid belongs to themselves, their homestead becomes a fortress, and nothing occurs under the Maid's watchful eye without their express permission.

PAGE

"One who works to inherit [Aspect] or inherits [Aspect] for themselves."

Pages are a class defined by promise. As the name suggests, a Page begins weak, but has the great potential to develop into one of the most powerful players in the game. The exact nature of a Page's powers are vague, not because they are insignificant, but because they are so great that it's difficult to encompass them all. At the apex of their arcs, Pages are capable of miraculous feats, overpowering even Lords and Muses - if only they could reach that point and stay there.

A Page begins the game weakest of all, reflective of their long journey of growth. Where most classes only fall into deficit of their Aspect at their lowest emotional points, Pages begin their arcs in deficit - exhibiting character traits opposite to those their Aspect normally encompasses. Moreso than any other class, a Page must learn to grow into their Aspect. Weak-willed, naive, and easily hurt, Pages require careful nurturing if they're to come into their own.

"Working to inherit their Aspect" describes the endless journey of growth the Page must undertake - one with many missteps, backslides, and setbacks along the way. Still, they "inherit their aspect," meaning that their full potential, when realized, is overwhelmingly great - practically becoming their Aspect in humanoid form, capable of utilizing it to its glorious full potential.

However, their nature defeats them, and even if they can attain this state, the Page usually can't stay there for long. At their very worst, the Page's deficit of their Aspect's better qualities can turn the Page into a gravitic well of misfortune - an albatross about the party's neck, the centerpoint, if not inciting incident, of a massive disaster, as their team is sucked in by the Page's natural weakness.

But this is only true as it contrasts to a Page at their best - having grappled and won with the greatest of all weakness, a Page is poised to come into the greatest of all strength. Shown kindness, compassion, and support, a Page at full power reflects a party at their best. A Page at full strength is breathtaking to behold, an unstoppable force of nature, their Aspect made manifest.

HEIR

"One whom [Aspect] grants inheritance or inherits [Aspect] for others."

Heirs, in contrast to Pages, start the game strong. They usually belong to the upper echelons of their respective societies, a position of great wealth, leisure, and comfort, and are set to be inheritors of even greater wealth. Similarly, their Aspect comes to them as if of its own will - it is powerful, but difficult for the Heir to control, reflecting the wealth and status they've enjoyed as birthright.

An Heir's main challenge is that of examining their privilege, and learning where they wish to spread the gift they've been given. Because of their positions of sheltered comfort, Heirs are not particularly world-wise, and often harbor massive blind spots to the suffering of others and the ills of society. As such, they tend to be fairly aimless, given great power but no strong motivations, and have a tendency to simply indulge in their Aspect without contributing great help or hindrance to their team at all.

The Heir's Aspect is practically an independent entity. Being one whom "their Aspect grants them inheritance" refers to how the Heir starts powerful, able to summon their Aspect to perform great, miraculous acts. However, it is highly intuitive and difficult to control. The Heir's challenge lies not in attaining great power, but in attaining control over, and the ability to direct, their existing abilities. Once they do, they can "inherit their Aspect for others" - Heirs become a conduit through which their party can experience their Aspect, making it a usable pool of wealth for them all to draw from. However, because of their comfortable positions, many Heirs end up dallying, finding no pressing need to do so.

But this dallying hides a ticking clock. An Heir's inheritance will come to them, one way or another, and if they aren't ready to receive the great responsibilities that come with such great power, then the power will eventually consume them. An Heir with no clear direction will eventually become lost to their Aspect, entirely removing both from play. Like how wealthy inheritors simply become part of the status quo, so, too, does an Heir disappear into their Aspect, fixing it in place.

Thus, Heirs must learn where they have been blind, where they have been foolish, and what it means to be underprivileged. Then, once they turn their energies towards addressing those injustices - to taking responsibility for building a better future - when their wealth comes to them, they'll be able to distribute it where it's needed most. An Heir, fully-realized, brings their Aspect to heel, and makes it a resource available to their entire team, as if welcoming them all into the family.

THIEF

"One who steals [Aspect] or steals using [Aspect]."

Thieves are, as the name suggests, greedy - much of their arc revolves around a desire to amass wealth, though what's considered "wealth" varies based on the Thief and especially their Aspect. They tend to be callous people by nature, capable of ignoring or trampling over the feelings of others in order to take what they want, in the hopes of filling an emotional void the Thief may not even be fully aware of.

The Thief's playstyle is one of careful resource management. Reflecting a natural tendency to take "wealth" from others, Thieves are unable to use their Aspect without first "stealing" it - a subtractive act which leaves the victim bereft of the Aspect, weakening them in the process. Because of the finicky nature of these abilities, it takes great cunning to be a Thief, and the Class both demands and requires the player to be adaptable, flexible, and quick on their feet, able to effect complicated schemes and engineer the perfect situations for their powers to have the greatest effect. Thieves aren't necessarily strong, but they have a very high victory ratio, because they're experts at turning a situation to their own advantage.

"Stealing their Aspect" refers to the fundamental way in which the Thief class is played, this resource management game; "stealing using their Aspect" reflects how the Thief often becomes a malignant force within the party, viewing their own teammates as caches of wealth to plunder. Thieves are naturally prone to hurting others for their own purposes, craving drama and attention, and being of such callous dispositions that they're able to perform extreme acts of cruelty given the right motivations.

Thieves often become a target of ire within the party, disruptive forces whose quest for personal wealth and fulfillment comes at the cost of those around them. At their worst, they can bring so much heat down upon their own shoulders that the party feels the need to treat them like an enemy, which is disastrous for party harmony. Moreover, it's disastrous for the Thieves themselves, as Thieves seek wealth to compensate for some emotional emptiness, and making enemies of their friends only serves to deepen their ennui.

Thus, a Thief must be taught that true happiness and fulfillment doesn't come from the struggle for wealth, but from the building of something better with those they care about. A Thief, thus turned to heroic purposes, becomes the party's pinch hitter - an adaptable spy, an unpredictable maverick, an element of surprise - and above all, a reliable ally, capable of turning any tide in the party's favor.

ROGUE

"One who steals from [Aspect] or steals [Aspect] for others."

Rogues, on the other hand, call to mind such figures as Robin Hood, stealing from the rich to distribute to the poor. Rogues are at their best when they're agents of a well-planned heist, as they possess an unlimited toolbox - their own Aspect - to play with. Their Aspect is a treasure trove, just waiting for the Rogue to plunder it and share its riches - if only the Rogue can figure out how.

Rogues are forces of revolution. They naturally carry a rebellious spirit, one which bristles at injustice, takes a stand against authority, and questions the status quo. Their ideas are unfocused, however; they know they must rebel, but usually don't start with a clear idea of against who or what. They know that their society is injust, but they don't know how to address that injustice. They know there are villains, and may even know these villains' identity, but they don't know how best to defy them. In a similar way, they're often lost as to how to utilize their Aspect beyond its most basic applications, and usually require external assistance in order to bring out its full potential.

Rogues' true potential lies in "stealing from their Aspect" - an additive act, rather than a subtractive one, as a Thief's stealing is. Rogues are capable of removing their own Aspect's sway over another entity, allowing it to exhibit the characteristics of the opposite Aspect; a Rogue of Void can create things out of nothing, a Rogue of Heart can tease out behaviors and actions. They can also "steal their Aspect for others," allowing them access to their own Aspect's suite of abilities as well. This allows the Rogue incomparable flexibility, their abilities - like their dispositions - rebellious and subversive.

But their rebellious spirit, coupled with their lack of understanding as to who their real enemies are, is dangerous when left unchecked. Rogues often suffer from a failure to start, giving up on trying to understand the deeper implications of their abilities, and of the society they can't seem to find contentment in - but they can also suffer from a worse fate: rebellion without a cause. Rogues' free spirits can lead to them bucking the status quo in ways that actively harm others, performing acts of taboo or poor taste just because that rebellious energy needs to be put to use somewhere. These can have disastrous knock-on consequences, as some things are taboo for good reason.

Thus, Rogues need to be guided - to make connections with others, and come to a greater understanding of the world at large. Once they know their target, and what needs to be done, the Rogue makes sure there are no obstacles along the way - no safe is uncrackable, no prison inescapable, and no problem unsolvable, so long as the Rogue is there to work their magic.

MAGE

"One who guides [Aspect] or guides [Aspect] for themselves."

Mages are prophets, of the "always correct" variety - or so it seems. In actuality, Mages don't "predict" the future, they "choose" it - in a setting where the future is mutable, the Mage's ability is to speak into existence a future they desire, to tip the scales of causality and collapse possibilities into a single definite course. Their Aspect is the lens through which their "prophecy" occurs, a realm in which they command the fabric of reality itself.

As if to karmically balance this incredible power, Mages are afflicted by deep and terrible sadness. They start the game miserable, having been subjected to the greatest injustices their Aspect can offer, tormented by guilt, shame, and self-loathing. Their worldview has been shadowed with a lens of suffering and anguish, and so, too, is their view of the future. Mages usually begin the game having already set several prophecies into motion, and these early prophecies are usually obstacles that the party must overcome.

Mages "guide their Aspect" - this refers to the way their prophecies, that is, their chosen futures, always come true. Their visions may be limited to the sway of their Aspect, but it remains a powerful ability nonetheless. "Guiding their Aspect for themselves," then, outlines the Class's Active nature - the futures the Mage picks must be ones the Mage believes will come to pass.

Unfortunately, Mages have a tendency to pick ugly futures. This isn't out of malice or anger; this is because Mages start the game sad, and without intervention, grow sadder. They're prone to spirals of negativity, self-loathing, and depression, and as their outlook dims, so, too, do their forecasts. Mages suffer, but even suffering can grow familiar - can even appear comfortable or desirable, if the Mage suffers long enough. It's easy for them to grow so accustomed to misery that misery is the only outcome they can see - spelling doom for the rest of the party, one prediction at a time.

But a Mage whose party shows them kindness and forgiveness, compassion and empathy, can pull them out of their misery. How beautiful, then, the future appears! A Mage who believes in a brighter future is a force to be reckoned with. When a Mage can bring themselves to say, "and everyone lived happily ever after," you had better believe they did.

SEER

"One who who is guided by [Aspect] or guides [Aspect] for others."

Seers, meanwhile, are the true future-sighted, able to see the myriad paths the future could take. Like Mages, their Aspect serves as the lens by which their vision is colored; the Seer can sense, with fine accuracy, which paths are closest to the sway of their aspect, and which paths will take them further away. As if gifted with a guide to the game, their intuition is tied directly to the mechanics of SBURB, and they serve as the party's guides, a role indispensable in a game with so many moving parts.

Seers will struggle with blindness, first by hubris and ego, and then by self-harm. Seers begin the game quite full of themselves, proud of their prowess in their Aspect - usually arrogantly so. When this pride is inevitably shattered, Seers have a tendency to deal with their feelings of shame and guilt with willful, self-induced blindness - as if flipping a switch, they become ashamed of the pride they once placed in their Aspect, and seek to place as much distance between it and themselves as possible. There's comfort in ignorance, even if it renders the Seer useless.

Seers are "guided by their Aspect" - able to sense its presence, they gravitate toward it, and towards futures with it in abundance. And, in the same way, they "guide their Aspect for others," lighting the way for others down the path of greatest reward. Seers truly love their Aspect, no matter how much they may misplace their faith in it, and seeking it out is a great joy for them.

This is why a Seer at their worst is so tragic. By inducing intentional blindness within themselves, they are functionally deadening the strongest part of their soul. No matter the temporary relief this brings to the sharp, jagged pain of shame, it invariably deepens the Seer's suffering, as they deny themselves not only their own joy, but their ability to help others - another act which inherently delights them.

Thus, a Seer needs to be made to deal with their shattered ego head-on, to accept their own shortcomings, to become at ease with the idea that they don't have all the answers. Once their vision becomes clear, and their view becomes honest, the party nevermore has to fear becoming lost or straying from the path - the Seer will see to that.

WITCH

"One who changes [Aspect] or changes [Aspect] in others."

Witches are the winds of change, tweaking reality all around them until it suits their desires. A Witch is presence that commands both fear and respect, and their Aspect bows down before them, reduced to a mere minion in the Witch's presence, ready to attend to all their needs. In a way, the Witch's powers are straightforward - they can manipulate their Aspect as they desire, changing its qualities as they see fit. "How they see fit," then, is where the issue lies.

Witches are usually of "outsider" status, never truly being part of the society from which the rest of the party descends. Free from the same rules and common sense that govern the others on their team, Witches instead operate on a value system heavily reliant on their own emotions. What a Witch deems to be correct, to be true, or to be righteous, are often based not in any objective measure, but in subjective, emotional bias - and they're emotional creatures, indeed. Prone to fits of great anger, Witches can be benevolent one second and malicious the next, and their abilities let them imprint, to a greater degree than any other Class, their desires onto the world that comes after them.

Witches "change their Aspect," as in, the crux of their abilities lies in manipulating the qualities of their Aspect in their surroundings - extending, shortening, magnifying, shrinking, growing, removing… so on and so forth. It's a fearsome power. They also "change their Aspect for themselves" - their Aspect is hapless but to obey their desires; Witches change the world to suit themselves, and their feelings of how things "should" be often become how things "are" in short order.

Thus, a Witch who has been swayed toward evil entities and nefarious ends is a truly dangerous opponent - and it is unfortunately easy for this to happen. Witches' social isolation means they tend to trust their emotions, and a force that flatters these emotions can easily win a Witch's trust. By the same token, those that fail to flatter the Witch are often considered enemies, even if they're benevolent forces. A Witch's morality can thus become warped and topsy-turvy, which has grave consequences for the world that the Witch then shapes.

Therefore, a Witch's struggle lies in learning to see beyond their own emotions, to take in the opinions and assistance of others even when it seems superficially unpleasant, to move beyond the childlike rejection of that which is uncomfortable. Once able to see a more nuanced form of right and wrong, once able to tell evil from good, Witches can build even utopia.

SYLPH

"One who allows [Aspect] to change others or changes [Aspect] for others."

Sylphs are nurturers and healers; they bring to mind fey folk whose very footsteps cause plants to grow. Wherever they go, whatever they touch, all becomes suffused with the Sylph's Aspect, which flourishes under their careful cultivation. Sylphs adore their Aspect, and their Aspect adores them; Sylphs generally feel at peace with themselves, surrounding themselves with what they like.

A Sylph's main challenge - or rather, the main challenge that Sylphs wind up posing the rest of the party - is that Sylphs are enablers. They're attracted to those with strong wills and extreme dispositions, amused by the havoc they wreak and pleased by their attention. Sylphs love to pick out favorites and lavish them with care and attention, excusing any wrongdoing on their behalf and shielding them from consequences. At the same time, those who don't strike the Sylph's capricious fancy find themselves discarded in the Sylph's mind, shut out from the boons the Sylph can provide.

A Sylph is "one who allows their Aspect to change others" - this almost always manifests as healing, as it's an additive ability (that is to say, the Sylph can grant more of their Aspect to someone). "Changing their Aspect for others," on the other hand, explains this enabling nature of theirs - the Sylph will intervene to make the world into a playground for their favored individuals, even to the point of turning other, less "interesting" teammates into playthings for the Sylph's beloved.

Thus, while the Sylph themself isn't particularly prone to wild mood swings and acts of malice, their influence can still cause disaster by allowing unscrupulous individuals to flourish - even encouraging their worst tendencies. A Sylph's touch is subtle, but that subtlety only lends it an insidious quality, as the Sylph quietly works against the good of the many for the cruel, selfish pleasures of the few. At their very worst, the Sylph can deem themselves their only favorite, and render everyone else a minor character in their one-man show.

Thus, Sylphs must be challenged. They must be made to reckon with the fact that favorable treatment is not necessarily kindness, and that bias can easily become harm. When a Sylph is able to grasp the difference between bias and doing good, and tune their approach toward that greater good, uncolored by bias and personal preference, then there is no place safer, kinder, and more conducive to growth than the Sylph's embrace.

PRINCE

"One who destroys [Aspect] or destroys using [Aspect]."

Princes are the most anxious, psychologically anguished members of a party. They suffer from a toxic overabundance of their Aspect - its traits are taken to an extreme, and not only the Prince, but those around them, are made to suffer for it. Princes are naturally set on a path of self-destruction, the culmination of their uncontrolled accumulation of their Aspect, and their meltdowns are spectacular, taking their Aspect - and whoever is unlucky enough to be in the same room - with them.

A Prince's challenge, therefore, is as simple to understand as it is difficult to overcome. The Prince needs to learn how to calm down, relax, and find inner peace. Princes are terribly prone to circular thinking and downward spirals. Their natural inclination is to feel anxious and responsible, like they carry the weight of the world, and this causes them to act out in extreme and aggressive ways. Eventually, others pull away, put off by the Prince's intensity. This only deepens the Prince's malaise, and Princes are - pushed by this hovering sense of urgency and catastrophe - willing to employ drastic, desperate measures to enforce compliance with their wills. They wake on their moons early, reflective of their driven natures. They're determined to a frightful degree, and no sacrifice is too great, no work too dirty, if it means achieving what they see as the greater good.

Princes "destroy their Aspect" in this way - by presenting their Aspect at its worst, they make others take distance, ruining it for everyone else. Their hard wills, intense emotions, and unshakeable drive to do what (they feel) needs to be done - at any cost - is their source of power. Thus, Princes "destroy using their Aspect" - their toxic overabundance of Aspect lets them channel it into a pure, annihilatory force; what they lack in the delicate utility of the other classes, they make up for in raw, ruinous power. Princes can easily deal the greatest damage in a combat scenario, their ability to destroy overriding nearly everything that would stand against it.

Thus is the problem with Princes. They're ticking time-bombs of anxiety and frustration; when they finally go off, they carve a path of destruction, before ultimately self-destructing, leaving no trace of their Aspect behind. Not only that, but it's very difficult to defuse the bomb early; Princes have finicky, aggressive, and complicated personalities, and tend to react poorly to straightforward attempts to calm them down and reason with them. They often appear to be their own worst enemies, marching inexorably toward their own destruction.

But Princes not only can be saved, but must be saved. They must be saved because kindness and compassion must exist for their own sake, and a Prince rescued from their own worst tendencies is living proof of the truth of that sentiment. A Prince, given the peace they need to reorient their priorities, will not rest until they see a brighter future realized. They will be the first to rise, and the last man standing, banishing - as if by royal decree - all obstacles, all enemies, all misfortune, and all ills.

BARD

"One who invites destruction through [Aspect] or allows [Aspect] to be destroyed."

Bards are the wild cards of a party, responsible for both improbable victories and catastrophic defeats - sometimes both in a single session. The methods by which a Bard works are a mystery to even the Bard themselves, which make it easy for the party to dismiss their powers - and, by extension, the Bard themselves. After all, who would expect there to be consequences for something so ridiculous as a Bard?

Bards are usually targets of abject ridicule by their teams. They can't help it - they're religious types, or at least types that hold great, lofty, ridiculous beliefs near and dear to their hearts. A Bard's primary struggle invariably winds up being a crisis of faith. Bards begin the game with a positive, "correct" faith in their Aspect; however, something will inevitably occur that shakes the Bard's faith in this viewpoint to its core. In this state, Bards are incredibly fragile, and it's very easy for them to succumb to whispers of cruelty and destruction, for their beliefs to warp, and for the Bard to come to serve the worst aspects of the society they represent.

A Bard "invites destruction through their Aspect" - their powers are subtle, but have catastrophic effects. Bards are instinctively drawn towards causing the first flap of a butterfly's wing, which cascades into a grand, impossible karmic backlash. They "allow their Aspect to be destroyed" by being the conduits for the forces of their faith - whatever faith they hold - to wreak unimaginable consequences across the game.

Thus, a Bard must not be allowed to fall into darkness. The cost is too great. They must be treated with kindness, patience, and sincerity, and given a chance to re-establish their faith in a better, brighter future. If this can be done, then at the party's direst moment - in their darkest hour - they will find that kindness paid back a thousandfold, as an innocuous act by the Bard that no one remembers balloons into a miracle.

[azurechicken]

Shout-out to Justice for having two tainted hosts and still resisting being corrupted into a demon.

[satsuha]

trace base

[ashotofogdensoldfirewhiskey]

Hinny prompt: Harry dealing with Ginny’s new fan base.

Ginny is starting to get her first few fan letters. The harpies try and sort them but Harry spots a few on the creepier side OR at a game he overhears some fans obsessing over the fit new Chaser. Have fun with it.😉

This might not be what you meant by "fun," but right about now the most fun thing I could imagine writing was a situation in which horrible, misogynistic men get what they deserve. Can't imagine why... NSFW (language) - Please note, there's some offensive language in this one, included to illustrate how horrible these characters are; NOT meant to condone it. I hope that's clear in the tone.

It would be blasphemous to say it, but Harry strongly prefers attending Ginny’s away matches. 

The furor around the relationship between “The Chosen One” and the rising star Chaser of the Holyhead Harpies had reached dizzying heights. Fans of their relationship flock faithfully to Harpies matches in the hope they might witness Harry cheering for Ginny, or clapping for Ginny, or something equally mundane, made exciting and romantic only because he’s the one doing it. While bizarre and invasive to Harry, this parasocial fantasy is nothing short of a PR dream for the Quidditch Club. 

The Harpies administration had been thrilled to reap the benefits of this excitement, and consequently laid out Harry and Ginny’s relationship on a silver platter: whenever Harry attended a match in their home stadium, he was offered a private Top Box at a prime location, complementary Omnioculars, unlimited food and drink, and a large Weasley Banner adorning the wall behind. 

Ostensibly a generous gesture, but in reality a nuisance, because it meant every reporter in the stadium knew exactly where to direct their cameras every time Ginny so much as sniffed the Quaffle. They’d capture Harry’s reaction and then rush to print it in the paper the next day, with interpretations so loosely based in reality that Harry’s nearly impressed at the creativity.

Once, Harry had sneezed, and his pained expression in the leadup to it was painted as “trouble in paradise” for weeks because it had happened to coincide with Ginny scoring. 

On another occasion, Harry had spent much of a particularly chilly match with his hands in his pockets. Of course, the only explanation for such insane behavior was obviously to hide the nonexistent wedding ring on his finger, which clearly resulted from a secret weekend elopement in the aftermath of Ginny’s spectacular performance against Pride of Portree. 

“They’ve got a point,” Ginny had joked over their morning breakfast. “I did deserve a diamond after that match. What gives?”

“A bit late for that, haven’t you heard?” Harry had said through a bite of porridge. “We’re already getting divorced. I’m having another affair with Hermione at the weekend.”

“Damn,” Ginny sighed. “I wanted to have an affair with Hermione.”

Much more insidious, though, were the stories suggesting that Ginny’s signing and popularity was only because of her relationship with Harry. Ginny swore she didn’t give a flying fuck what the papers wrote about her, but Harry took to ripping every story that cast aspersions at her talent to shreds.

But, Harry had finally got one over on the press. He’d called an uncharacteristic press conference and made an announcement that, due to undefined “security risks” at away stadiums, he was unable to attend matches outside of Holyhead. 

The statement had been worth all of the ridiculous stories speculating about his lack of support for his girlfriend’s career, because it meant that he got to watch the Harpies vs Falcons match – donning a thick cap, sunglasses, and a scarf, in some cheap seat that no one would suspect Harry Potter of sitting in – utterly without audience. Sure, his view of the match leaves a bit to be desired, and he’s cramped next to a rowdy group of Falcons fans, but it’s wonderfully refreshing to swear angrily when Ginny is fouled without fear of a think-piece speculating about his repressed anger issues appearing in tomorrow’s Prophet. 

It’s one of his better lies, all told, and Harry’s inclined to celebrate his stroke of genius. 

It’s not until about ten minutes into the match that Harry is forced to concede he may have celebrated prematurely, as he reckons with the drawbacks to his little caper up close and personally. 

“HI! HO! FALMOUTH FALCONS! HI! HO! FALMOUTH FALCONS!”

The lads surrounding Harry are chanting with such an obnoxious, drunken fervor that Harry can hardly hear himself think, forget hearing the match commentary. They scream with such persistence for so long that they’ve nearly earned Harry’s begrudging respect, when the chant finally succumbs to raucous cheers as Falmouth is awarded a penalty.  

“Nice to have a bit of a doss match this week,” the bloke next to Harry remarks loudly after Falmouth scores their penalty. “Gives Wickford time to rest up before we play Puddlemere.”

Harry squints up at the speeding players above and confirms that Wickford, a thick-necked man and Falmouth’s star Chaser, is indeed speeding back defensively as the Harpies offensive formation takes shape, and not resting on the sidelines. Harry shoots a sidelong glance to his neighbors, perplexed. 

“Yeah, nice of the Harpies to carry on with an all-female squad,” another dark-haired lad chimes in. “I thought they were finally going to give it up after last season. What a joke.”

The first bloke, who Harry observes looks rather like Dudley, laughs ruefully. “Gwenog Jones won’t ever admit the problem, though, will she? They just don’t have the speed or the strength, everyone can see it–” 

Harry scowls. Pricks.  

“She clearly thinks the new recruit, Weasley or whatever, is going to make them competitive again, but–”

“Does she?” the Dudley-looking one snorts. “Or do they just want the Harry Potter fangirls to bring in the revenue? It’s a massive publicity stunt, honestly, just like the whole team.”

The three of them laugh, and Harry’s scowl deepens beneath his sunglasses. 

“I’m only hoping they bring back the swimsuit calendar this year,” the dark-haired one adds. “Weasley’s fit as fuck.”

The group murmurs their general agreement, and Harry takes stock of the hexes available to him. Might be time to dust off the toenail-growing one of Snape’s… But no. He can’t get hauled in front of Magical Law Enforcement again. Robards will sack him. 

“Yeah, the Harpies can fuck around with an all-women team, as long as they all look like that,” the Dudley-looking lad adds, pointing up at Ginny who is now flying overhead, and they all get a particularly good view of her from behind. The blond one jeers. “Wouldn’t mind seeing her strutting around on my calendar in a bikini.”

“I’d go so low as to call myself a Harpies fan for one of those,” the dark-haired jokes, and they all snigger. 

Sod hexing. Harry would quite like to kill them. He’s gripping the metal bars in front of him, knuckles white, imagining creative ways of doing it when Ginny - quite literally - takes matters into her own hands: all of their attention is pulled to the pitch as she feints, drawing Wickford into an ugly-looking lurch before she dodges and cannons a shot directly into the right goal. 

God, he loves her. 

“Damn,” the blond one whistles. “Fit and fair enough at Chasing, I suppose.”

“Potter’s a lucky bloke,” they joke. “I’d let her score on me all she wants.”

Yeah, Harry thinks darkly, today’s my lucky day.

Harry thinks he deserves a medal for the level of restraint he exercises, as the lads continue to offer lewd, sexist, and leering comments about Ginny for the entirety of the match. In fact, the only reason he manages not to strangle them is because Ginny, herself, is shutting them up far more effectively than he ever could. 

“Watch this, Robbins’ll catch her, look at the difference in wingspan–”

Ginny drops a beautiful pass to Gwenog who times her formation perfectly, and the Harpies score yet again. 

“Weasley’s tiny, once they let our Beaters loose on her she’ll be a goner–”

Ginny executes a perfect Sloth-Grip Roll to dodge an incoming bludger, and manages to whip a shot past the Falcons Keeper while dangling upside-down. 

“Knock her off her fucking broom!”

Wickford, clearly frustrated, fouls Ginny – hard. While the referee blows a shrill whistle, Harry lets out a stream of abuse, “Dirty fucking wanker–”

“Oi!” the Dudley-looking bloke next to Harry exclaims with glee. “Have we got ourselves a Harpies fan in our midst?”

Harry takes a measured, calming breath before answering, still staring up at the match above. “Yep.”

The group lets out a gleeful ooh. Harry knows it’s commonplace to give opposing fans a hard time at away matches, but these blokes haven’t got a clue how close Harry is to losing it. He’s about one more comment away from turning them into Aunt Marge. 

He claps when Ginny easily puts away the penalty shot, extending the Harpies already considerable lead. 

“Very progressive of you,” the blond one jokes. “Are they your girlfriend’s favorite team, or something?”

“Or something,” Harry answers through gritted teeth. 

They all jeer. “She’s got you whipped, eh? I hope the pussy’s worth rooting for a pussy-ass team like–”

“I’d watch my fucking mouth, if I were you,” Harry says, his voice low and dangerous. He realizes, dimly, that he must look far less intimidating than he’d like, with his ridiculous hat and sunglasses and scarf covering much of his face. Oh, well. Looks can be deceiving. He’s just finished up with seven weeks of an intensive dueling refresher course with the Aurors. He reckons he could incapacitate all three of them before they even had a chance to pull their wands. 

“Oooh, would you?” they jeer. “What, do you reckon if you cheer loud enough, Weasley will hear you and come over to thank you after the match?”

“Could she thank me too, you reckon?” the Dudley one adds. 

Harry can hear his own heartbeat angrily pounding in his ears. They’re all disgusting pricks, not worth a moment of his time or his energy, but he’s not stupid, either. He’d been, at first, when Ginny had originally signed with the club, and he’d just started paying more attention to the news about the team and the undermining, sexist undertones in all of it. He’d been shocked to see the nasty objectifying comments, the aspersions at their talent, the insinuation that the team was a feminist gimmick, not to be taken seriously. 

Hermione had humbled him with a sharp, “No,” when he’d asked her if she was surprised by it, too. 

He’s not as naive anymore. He realizes these blokes are watching their own team get shellacked by an all-female side, watching as Ginny plays elite Quidditch with their own eyes, and still they’ve got nothing but bullshit to say. 

Helpfully, Ginny chooses that moment to score yet another goal, her seventh. When Harry claps, they all join in mockingly. 

“Weasleyyyyy,” they call, with mocking, lovesick expressions. “Ditch the Chosen One and choose meee!”

Harry turns to them, and asks in a flat tone. “Is that the reason you’ve been rooting for such a shit team, then? You’re hoping Wickford will come and give you a cuddle after?”

“Oi!” the dark-haired one says. “Hang on–”

“That’s the only reason you’d be a fan of the fucking Falcons, isn’t it? If Wickford will take you home?”

“Nah mate, reckon all poofs are Harpies fans, aren’t you?”

The toenail hex seems woefully tame, all the sudden. “Are all Falcons fans pricks or is it just you lot?”

“Oi, relax mate,” the blond one jeers. “We’re just wondering how it all works. How many times have you got to wear a Harpies kit before they let you pull a leg over?”

“Dunno, how many times have you got to wear that Falcons kit for them to win a match?”

“Is that the new Harpies recruitment strategy?” the Dudley-looking one continues. “They only sign slags to the team, so they can shag together a fanbase?”

Harry pulls his wand so fast that they jump back, startled. “Say that again,” he growls, holding his wand in the man’s face. “Say it.”

“Watch yourself,” the blond one says, holding his hands up and pointing to his mate threateningly. “This one’s about to be an Auror, you’re about a second away from–”

What surely deadly threat Harry is a second away from, he’ll never learn, because just then, with a loud groan from the crowd, the Harpies Seeker pulls out of a spectacular dive with the snitch clasped in her fist, thereby ending the match at an embarrassing score of 260-10. 

“YES!” Harry yells, his wand dropping to his side as his eyes seek out Ginny in the air. 

He can’t remember ever finding a win so satisfying, and Ginny quite so attractive as she streaks across the pitch to hug Gwenog Jones in a midair heap, her red hair streaming behind her in the wind. When she lets go, she scans the section she knows Harry is sitting in. Looking for him, like she always does after a match, only this time she’s looking for an idiot in a shit disguise. 

He turns back to the blokes, fury and disgust with them still radiating in his bloodstream, and a reckless desire that he’ll surely regret later overtakes him. Fuck it, he thinks, and he begins to pull off his scarf. 

“What was it you were saying before?” he goads, pulling their attention back to him before they move with the rushing crowd out of the stands. “One of you arseholes is going to be an Auror?”

“I am, and I’ll curse you into next week, if you like,” the Dudley looking-one taunts. “Maybe then Weasley will give you a pity ride, if that’s what you’re hoping for–”

“Interesting offer, but I’ll pass,” Harry says, as he pulls off his sunglasses. A look of vague recognition sweeps across the blond one’s face, though the others merely look a combination of angry and befuddled. 

Harry replaces his regular specs and looks to the pitch just in time to lock eyes with Ginny - she’s found him in the crowd. 

She’s halfway across the pitch, but Harry can tell by the tilt of her head that she’s wondering why he’s gone and taken off half the disguise they’d laughed so hard about earlier. He waves, and despite their earlier agreement to forgo their usual public post-match celebration, she seems to get the message and begins flying toward him. 

He turns back to the blokes and finally removes his hat, revealing the still famously recognizable scar on his forehead. All three of their expressions transform into varying degrees of horror as they recall every horrible thing they’d said over the last hour, and connect just who they said it to. “What the fuck–” one of them mutters. “What the fucking shit– is that– Harry Potter–”

Harry stares directly at the aspiring Auror, memorizing his stupid features as he reddens. “I–” he stammers.

“I wouldn’t count on the Auror thing,” Harry spits. “If you’ll pardon me, though, I’ve got to congratulate my girlfriend. Maybe thank her later, for giving me so much to cheer for.”

He turns just as Ginny arrives to hover in front of him, windswept and flushed with victory and so ruddy gorgeous he can’t think. “You were so fucking brilliant,” he tells her. 

“I know,” she says with that cheeky grin he loves so much, and then she kisses him so soundly that he quite forgets the pricks openly gaping at them from behind. 

For a moment.

He pulls back from the kiss and turns to find them making a hasty retreat from the scene, but not before he hears the telling sound of a camera pop.

The ensuing stories plastered all over the papers the next day - Harry, pictured in his ridiculous disguise entering the stadium, their victorious kiss in the stands - ensure that Harry’s never able to sneak surreptitiously into the crowd of an away match ever again. 

A trade worth making, though, when Harry gives an exclusive interview detailing every disgusting thing the three men identified in the background of the photograph had said, and when Ginny writes a cutting op-ed for the Prophet highlighting the ways in which the press had created the very narrative those three pricks had parroted. 

Of course, it doesn’t solve the problem overnight, nor did they expect that it would. But, it moves the needle, just a bit. When Ginny reads an excellent article detailing the Harpies’ unique formations without once mentioning Harry or questioning whether they might be more effective by signing male players, she smiles. 

The rejection of Winston Winthrop’s Auror application is just the frosting on the cake.

[nexadarling]

Watching tristamp: oh vash has mommy issues

Watching trigun 98: oh vash has MOMMY ISSUES

Reading Trimax: Actually Vash went through an extremely traumatising event at a young age and had to face the realities of humans. Rem was there, as the twins' mother figure, to represent the good. Reconciling humanity's differences is what made him how he is, and he projects that onto Rem. In this essay I will-

[whereserpentswalk]

Sure you're "body positive" but are you normal about people you don't find physically attractive?